#I love those in general like yes please tell me about the trials and tribulations of a worm what else could be more interesting

[asofterepilogue]

I cried more watching a documentary about an octopus and her (fake 😤) simp than I did reading or watching anything in all of 2023. 9.9999/10 would recommend.

[allygodot]

CALLOUT POST FOR KRISTAHLIA WEEK

I found this blog through a major blog popular for it’s Godot slander, so I really don’t know what I was expecting. Who would have thought that a blog known for it’s misandry would also promote victim blaming, homophobia, abuse apologism, and just general sinfulness? I guess it isn’t too surprising... but this post isn’t about that major blog. After all, I don’t discourse with minors. Rather, this post is about the heinous blog they were promoting: @kristahliaweek​.

Now, not everyone in this community has seen what I’ve seen, so I’m assuming many of my readers are too innocent to know what “Kristahlia” is. Well, my naive kitten, it is the “ship” (problematic term, I know, but I’m only describing it in their own words) of Kristoph Gavin and Dahlia Hawthorne. Yes, the serial killers. If that doesn’t immediately scream “yikes” I don’t know what does. When I said I wanted this community to acknowledge more heterosexual ships I didn’t mean this...

Your initial reaction might be that this is a prank. After all, the person who put this blog on the map is quite well-known for their unfunny “jokes,” such as their ruining of the Ace Attorney Twitter Awards and their constant anti-Godot propaganda. However, it does not really matter to me if this is a joke or not since the ideas being spread are so harmful.

Regardless, in my infinite mercy, I initially gave this blog a chance to repent. I thought that perhaps if I pointed out the danger of their actions, they would back down. Unfortunately, my grace was not accepted. 

Instead of apologizing or doing anything mature, they resorted to calling me a fr**t. I guess they didn’t read my bio and see that I’m straight... not to mention the complete disregard for the seriousness of invoking hell. I think it is quite obvious that these are fighting words.

Still need more proof this blog is actually homophobic? Do you need me to prove that this isn’t just some prank, but rather a serious hate crime? Well, Judge, take a look at this.

This makes it abundantly clear that this blog is not in fact run by the troll who initially promoted it. The moderator of that major account is (allegedly) a lesbian, and I’ve never known a single lesbian to laugh at the d slur. Only a true, blue homophobe would let this language go unpunished. This is ineffable proof that this blog is no laughing matter. Not that it was ever funny. 

Blessedly, I was not the only person who was disgusted by the behavior of this blog. Another anon made an attempt to destroy this blog with facts and reason, but unfortunately their heroism was not rewarded. 

If that isn’t victim blaming I don’t know what is! Not to mention how inherently predatory it is to humiliate an anon, who has no power on your own platform... the abuse apologism is just too obvious. 

Seeing that my anon allies were going nowhere, I decided to take this matter into my own capable hands. I sent a very polite anon where I gave the blog the benefit of the doubt despite the fact that they gave me no reason to do so, and do you reckon I got a mature response? Of course not!

They just completely dodge the question to focus on my last remark about salvation. I’ll have you know that I am actually a devout Christian, Kristoph (if that even if your real name), so I know the stench of a sinner when I smell one’s reek. Real Christians are not homophobic. Real straight people are not abusive! You are seriously giving my minorities a bad name, so for the love of God please, try praying a rosary if you can’t afford therapy. 

My apologies for using the Lord’s name in vain, but I got a little bit heated there. Much like the mods of this blog likely do every time they use slurs and swears. Are these one of those heated gamer moments your kind like to accuse Godot of?

This last image is what really inspired me to make this post. After I was denounced by this blog, another anon came to my defense, using Godot as an example of Dahlia’s unforgivable wrongs. (Before you ask, no. This anon was not me. You can tell by their irresponsible use of the f-bomb.)

I don’t care who you are or what you believe, but calling Godot a “sour old b*tch” is completely inexcusable. This is peak victim blaming. Do you seriously believe that an innocent man trying to bring a killer to justice deserved it just because you are a woman? Garbage like this is why I hate feminism. If you seriously think buzzwords like “misogyny” are going to save you from being called out on your actions, you are wrong. Seriously, this just supports my hypothesis that victim blamers, misandrists, abuse apologists, kinnies, serial killers, and Godot haters are all birds of a feather. 

Anyway, I’m sure that by the time I’m done typing this post this blog will have published some more pogchamp hot takes or whatever you fake social justice warriors are calling hate crimes these days. I find it quite fitting that I’ll once again be engaged in combat with Dahlia Hawthorne (or rather her pale imitation) after what happened in Trials and Tribulations... I’ve crawled out of the depths of hell to bring you to justice. (By the way, I’m not a kinnie even though I am speaking as Godot. Kinning is just a spiritual substitute for religion.)

See you in court. 

[wincestisasincest]

2000 Man (A beatle!reader story) - Part 4: If Love is a Drug

She is back! And better than ever.....

Not really, sorry it’s been radio silence/lurking, she’s had something of a depressive episode recently, but she’s getting back on her feet. So yea, I don’t want to promise anything, but I’ll try to post more.

And finally get a masterlist at some point with this series, for goodness’ sake.

So yea. 

When should I stop crediting @casafrass for this? I feel like it’s getting annoying, but it’s only fair. 

Description: It’s the year 2000, and y/n, the fifth member of the Beatles, is advertising her new book, Madam Beatle, in her first interview of the year. We see snapshots of her life, from when she joined the band, to the trials and tribulations, to the death of the band, and everything in between. Loosely inspired by Slumdog Millionaire.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4

Headcanons: Based off of this one, though like, not really, just the general vomit theme. 

Words: 3,951 (woop, she’s a long one, get ready for some TEA)

Pairings: Honestly, just let me know if you would like me to put some pairings in here, because most of all of the ones that I’ve written, you can read it either way, so please, just let me know! 

Warnings: Vomit, drugs, pills, violence, swearing

“So I understand that at one point you talk about a conversation that you had with Judy Garland.” 

“Yes, she and I met, actually I don’t remember where, but it was one of those random ‘high society’ parties, and we struck up a sort of conversation. I think we found each other’s stories interesting, because, as women in the entertainment industry, even across film and music, there were some startling similarities.” 

“Would you care to expand on those similarities a little?” 

“I mean, besides the fact that so much of the focus is on our bodies, which we’ve already discussed, the zeitgeist of the time seemed to be that women simply weren’t ready to handle all of the pressures that that sort of system put on us. Of course, this meant drugs, particularly amphetamines, which were quite vogue in the US at the time. Judy and I were both familiar with that sort of concept, however, the difference lied in that Judy chose to go on amphetamines, and I was given them.” 

“Given them by...?” 

“EMI, mostly, but everyone, including me, was complicit in a way. Though, it did slip more into self-regulation in the Beatles’ later years, and I even fully recovered by my solo career. But yea, especially in the earlier ones, during our massive concert tours, a lot of it was... very strong suggestions.”

“You were known for being very strong-willed, though.” 

“Yeah, but y’know, it’s my career. I guess at the time, even if EMI had let me go, I could’ve gone somewhere else on the name alone, but I was young, stupid, and scared of non-existent threats, so I really did put up with it for quite long.” 

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

“She hasn’t come out of that room since last night.” 

“It’s called sleeping, Rings.”

“It’s past noon! She came straight up here after dinner last night.” 

“And she locked the door.” 

“Very suspicious.” 

“You think we could get Mal to break it down?” 

“What if there’s a guy in there?”

“Then we’ve got to break it down.” 

“She’s an adult!” 

“What if she’s DEAD?” 

“Someone get Mal.” 

Your eyes fluttered open. With friends like these, who needs an alarm clock? 

Through blurry eyes, you could read the actual alarm clock: 3:17. 

Everything was alright for about 20 seconds, and then all of the crappy feelings had re-settled into your wakened state. Your legs felt like they were filled with cement, your nose was congested, your hands were clammy, you were extremely sweaty even though it was absolutely freezing, and you were stilled tired, even though you had gone to bed at 7:30 last night. 

You sauntered over to the door, pulling on a pair of sweat pants over your bare legs. 

You pressed your sweaty fingers down on the cool lock and pulled it open. 

“Do not! Call Mal! I am here.” Four blank faces gawked back at you, all far more spritely than you cared to admit that you weren’t. The suits were on as well. 

“Is that what you look like without makeup?” John quipped in mock-surprise. He knew damn well what you looked like without makeup, he just couldn’t give up a chance to be his sarcastic asshat self. You sighed.

“Not now, please, John.” The light in the main suite was too bright, so you pushed your head into the doorway and closed your eyes. You wanted to sit down again. 

“(y/n), love, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it is 3:30, and you’ve got to get your act together at some point.” You couldn’t see his face, but you knew that was Ringo.

“I know what time it is, I’m just... eurgh,” You didn’t bother opening your eyes, “This shit is exhausting.” 

“We can’t can-” 

“I know, I know,” you interrupted Paul, “I’ll be out in fifteen minutes.” 

- time skip brought to you by I am very tired - 

“(y/n), do you want me to carry that?” George appeared at your side, holding his hand out near yours, grabbing at the guitar case. 

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You chuckled weakly. 

“Your playing was off. You missed a few chords. You didn’t smile as much, and your voice was weaker. I can tell.” 

“Rough night is all. Remember, we can’t cancel even if I am sick. But I’m fine.” Your grip on the guitar case loosened unconsciously as your arm felt weaker. 

“Sure.” George swung his hand in and grasped at the handle of your case, before taking it in his own. You sighed, but still didn’t feel like answering. 

“What a gentleman you are, Georgie.” John ruffled his hair with his free hand. 

A pattering of very angered footsteps approached behind you, and you instantly knew who it was. Only one man could angrily footstep like that.

“What the hell was that, (y/n)?” Brian spun you around to look at him. Though you could tell that there was some softness in his eyes, and that he was perhaps worried just as much for you as for your reputation, he was still fuming. 

“Whaddya mean?” You fumbled out. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice. You were out of it tonight. Well? What was it? Weed? Cocaine? Alcohol? All of them?!”

“Scout’s honor, Brian, it was just a weird night.” Brian’s grip loosened on your shoulders, as he facepalmed. He looked back up at you sympathetically.

“You’re a little pale, (y/n), perhaps you should take an early night.” You peered over your shoulder, only to catch the lads instantly trying to pretend like they weren’t listening in on your conversation. You were going to go to a very fancy club tonight, and you had been looking for a chance to dress up. You looked back at Brian, who was almost sweating. Anything to ease his worry. 

“Alright, just this night. Even though I swear I’m fine.” 

“Right, right. Why don’t you head back with the equipment, and I’ll head out with the boys?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” You sighed and could feel your eyes droop. You trudged back to the black van and hauled yourself in the back, giving a small wave to Mal in the mirror. He nods understandingly. You shut the van doors. 

“Where’s she goin’?” You hear John bug Brian like a petulant child.

“Back to the hotel, I think.” 

“Killjoy.” Paul muttered.

George just watched the van leave over Ringo’s shoulder, whom he was deeply in conversation with. 

- time skip - 

It happened again. You had fucked up again. You’d missed some of your chords, your voice had cracked at one point, and not in the hot way, and your energy on stage was no longer a bubbly bounce, but a gentle, almost sleepy, swaying. 

Your fuck-up only really hit you after, though, as you had zoned out while you were on stage. 

You couldn’t go out to face the boys. You just couldn’t. You sat in your locked dressing room, head in your hands, as you stared at your knees trying not to pass out. Everything was blurry. 

You were awakened from your thoughts by a loud thumping. You could feel your stomach drop. It was an angry knock. Why did men always have to be so angry? 

“(Y/n), I know you’re in there.” It was John. Of course it was John. It was always John. He never knew when to stop. 

You leaned back in your chair, dazed, knowing full well that you didn’t have to let him in if you didn’t want to. You shakily pulled a cigarette out of a pack on the table and it it with your delicately engraved lighter while the pounding continued. He would die out there if he had to. 

“Whaddya want?” You blew a plume of smoke and coughed.

“Why are women always so dramatic? Just let me in, damnit!” 

“Not if you don’t stop acting like a petulant goddamn child!”

“Call me a child, will you? I’m not the one who can’t handle every goddamn concert. What? Are you too tired? Awww, I’m sorry. Do you need a nap?” 

You could feel your eyes brim with tears. You put out the cigarette, grabbed your bag, and opened the window. The wind blew in your face, and it was almost calming. Using the gymnastics skills that you had honed as a kid, you slunk out the window and onto the open street, your heels clacking on the pavement. You pulled a coat over your face and called a taxi, only offering cash but making sure to keep your looks relatively obscured. Back to the hotel, where you could sleep it all off.

- Time skip - 

You slept for 20 hours, and yet, you still woke up feeling all the worse. The clock read 4:00. You were about to be late for call. There was no shuffling outside, so you could assume that the lads had already left. Awesome. 

You fixed your hair, grabbed your guitar, called a limo, and added small touches of makeup on the ride there. You could barely feel anything anymore, and your body had gone completely numb. You chunked on foundation way more than usual as to hide the cold sweat and incredible paleness that your face had broken out in. Some of the powder drifted over your lips, and you felt a welling of stomach acid churn. 

You swallowed, took a deep breath, and your stomach calmed down once more. You were backstage. 

You thanked the cab driver before slipping through the back door, barely being able to make it open. The first thing you met was Brian having a panic attack, which actually made sense for once, as there was about 15 minutes until you were on stage. 

“(Y/n)! Where the bloody hell were you?!” The rest of the lads were behind him, speaking and looking at you like some high school girl’s clique. You shot them an angry, but weak, stare.

“No one woke me up.” 

“You look like death.” Paul piped up from the back.

“You’ll meet death very fuckin’ soon-” You had no time for any of the sass anymore, but a hand clamping on your shoulder cut you off. You looked up to your left, and were greeted by the face of Neil Aspinall. 

“That’s enough of that, (y/n), we have something to do.” He didn’t wait for your answer, but simply lead you backstage. You were far too dazed to resist, so you simply let him steer. 

“So, the company, not me, heard that you haven’t exactly been on your A-game lately, and they recommended something.” You nodded, still not listening.

“Apparently, a lot of rockstars use it, they heard about it from the manager of the Animals or something, so I thought we could give it a try. It’s supposed to help you get that burst of energy that you need.” He patted your shoulder joyfully.

“Now, this is all of the company’s doing, so, if you don’t want to take them, then I completely understand, and I’ll just tell them that you did, but I am supposed to mention them.” Neil’s voice drifted off. In front of you was a table with several small white pills and a glass of water. 

“No. I’ll take it. We gotta a show to do.” You were sure that Neil said something, but you didn’t hear, as you were too busy downing the pills and the water in one determined gulp. 

- Time skip - 

That night was the most energetic that you had been. Almost too energetic. Your eyes were shot and pink, though fortunately all of the audience was too far away to notice. Your playing was erratic and very harsh, though the screaming was too loud to hear. Your vocals, well, those would not be matched until some actual crackheads took the stage later. 

None of your actions felt deliberate, everything felt at the whim of the surges of energy jolting through your body, while your actual mind just felt more and more disconnected, and your stomach churned. The lights gave you a pulshing headache. 

Three-quaraters through the show, you began to come back to Earth again, though not because the drugs were wearing off, but because something else was beginning to emerge. You could feel it. The wave rising up in your stomach. You swallowed. You shouted the lyrics into the microphone. You put your all into the song, even though you no longer felt the energy. You were not going to mess up on stage again. 

Paul gave you some side-eye. Though the fans were absolutely eating up, he wasn’t buying your shtick. 

Finally, you made it to the last number. The crowd screamed. Your heart pounded in your chest. You were sweating like crazy, and your hair was sticking to your face. Your legs felt wobbly, but you thew a hand up and waved goodbye to the crowd, as well as to any sense of calm in your stomach. 

As you shambled off stage, Ringo scrambled up behind you and put an arm around your shoulder, steadying you. Oh god, even he knew and he couldn’t see your face. Your guitar was slung around your shoulder, but you forgot that it existed, and slammed it into a poor stagehand. 

With your last sense of control left, you removed our guitar the minute that you got off stage and handed it to said stagehand, who was highly confused, while you grabbed the nearest trashcan and heaved your entire stomach into it. Mind you, since you had slept for the last day, there were hardly contents to begin with, just raw stomach acid.

Your throat burned, you sweat, and your eyes wanted to do nothing but close. You could feel gentle hands pulling your hair back, while startled screams and yells rose up backstage. You didn’t care. You had fallen to your knees, taking the trashcan with you, still completely retching your stomach into anything that would take it. 

“What the hell did you do ta her?”

“It wasn’t me, it was that stuff that EMI sent over?” 

“What stuff?”

“I don’t know, pills, something!”

“You gave her pills? She’s clearly had the fucking flu, on top of dealing with your ridiculous schedule. 

“I just did what they told me to do!”

“Brian! I want you to end the contract with EMI right now.” 

“John, you don’t mean that, sit down.”

“I second.” 

“Paul, John, why don’t we all just-”

“No! If this is how they choose to treat people, to treat (y/n), then I don’t want anything to do with them. Look at what you’ve done to her!

“What I’ve done?! This is not just me, and you know it.”

“I never said give her fucking pills!” 

“You never say anything, you just yell!” 

“Mal, can you call an ambulance?”

“Already done, Georgie.” 

The vomit stopped, and you lifted your head up, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. Ringo’s hands gently fell from your hair. 

“No, no ambulance, I’m fine.” Your voice was so raspy, like your throat had been torn out. 

John, Paul, Brian, and Neil froze in the middle of their argument while George and Mal cocked their heads to look at you from the side. John only stayed quiet for a second.

“You’re not fine, you’re on fucking drugs!” He lurched forward, approaching you. You could feel your stomach quell again. You swallowed. 

“Any drug that I was on,” you breathed deeply, “is in there.” You pointed to the trashcan. 

“You’re being ridiculous, I-” 

“No! Fuck you! You don’t get to say shit!” that come out far louder than you expected. You stood at your full height, willing to handle the discomfort if it meant telling him off. You’d even surprised John/

“How the fuck can you pretend like I’m the one acting ridiculous right now considering all the shit that you said to me yesterday? How far does your fucking double standard go? Of all the sins you’ve committed, John Lennon, I never thought that hypocrisy would be one of them. Get a grip, goddamnit! This is just as much your fault as it is mine, and I know you know that, so look me in the eye and for a goddamn second confront the consequences of your actions!” You were breathing very heavily now, whether with anger or exhaustion, and you could feel a surge of energy come through you yet again, though this time you weren’t sure if it was the drug.

You lunged at John, aiming your fist at his face. Everyone suddenly shifted into action all of a sudden, with George and Ringo holding you back and Paul pulling John away, though you noted that Paul refused to look John in the eye. 

“Woah, woah, (y/n), take it easy. Calm down. It’s alright, it’s alright.” You could hear George softly try to calm you, though your heavy breathing continued, and at some point along the way, you ended up crying into his shoulder as Ringo patted your back. 

“Come on, you’ve done enough.” You heard footsteps shuffle away, followed shortly after by another pair, leaving you, George, Ringo, and a very awkward Mal.

You cried until there were no tears left to cry. Your legs got tired from standing at some point, so you simply sat down, with George and Ringo joining you as Mal left to explain to the ambulance that they wouldn’t be needing their services today. 

You swallowed, and you could feel the tears begin to stick to your cheeks.

“We should probably go back to the hotel.” You leaned against George’s shoulder pensively.

“If you’re up to it, Birdie.” 

“Yeah, I’m alright.” 

You stood up weakly as Ringo wrapped his jacket around you. The three of you returned to the hotel without another word.

- Time skip -

You, George, and Ringo, slowly creaked open the door to your shared massive suite. Paul sat in the middle of the room, a beam of moonlight illuminating his face, legs crossed, just as he was waiting for you. John was nowhere to be seen.

“There you are!” he said in a stage whisper, “I was worried sick!” He rose from his chair and approached your trio. 

Before you could even anticipate what he was doing and protest, he wrapped you in a very warm hug. He was always good at those. He held you like he was afraid to lose you, and you used what strength you had left to return it with all your might, as if you were afraid to lose him. The two of you stayed like that for a minute, without words, before he separated. 

“You best get some sleep. All of you.” His eyes traveled to George and Ringo, and it was clear that there was no more room for negotiation.

The three of you gently drifted into your rooms with Paul watching you all leave. The minute your face touched your pillow, you fell into a dreamless sleep. 

- Time skip -

God only knows how long you had slept, but the growling of your stomach woke you up next morning. You felt a lot better, at least, and the mothering of Paul, making sure that you ate and drank enough, and that you didn’t need anything, made sure that you were gradually on your way to some form of recovery. 

Paul, as you had learned, was originally the one who had postulated that you had some form of the flu, and the symptoms proved his predictions correct. Thankfully, he was well equipped to care for people with the flu, having done so for his family growing up, so he knew all of the common remedies. 

John was still nowhere to be found, but George and Ringo emerged from their rooms one by one, and the four of you lazed around, reading papers and watching the news, for the rest of the morning. 

When you finally asked where John was, Paul answered that he had gotten up early and gone for a walk. Pretty long walk, you guessed, but didn’t pry. 

At noon, there was a gentle knock on the door. Paul admitted a very sheepish looking Brian into the suite. He approached the table. 

“How are you feeling?” 

You took a long sip of water.

“I’m alright, better than yesterday.” 

“That’s good.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck. There were other things on his mind. 

“Um, I wanted to apologize, on behalf of me, and Neil, who is speaking to the company at this point, he’s trying to-” 

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, pausing to gather your thoughts, “No, really, it is. You didn’t know, and neither did I, and neither did Neil. And I’m alive. Now we just know not to do it again.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you shifted in our seat to grab the tea pot, though Brian shook his head, “No, no, I must be going, we’re traveling again today. But, enjoy your tea, and I’ll see you in a few.” 

You nodded sagely. Brian began to take his leave, but halfway through the door, he turned around to look at the solemn crowd.

“You know, you all really do mean a lot to me. I promise you that. Not as clients, but people. This will not happen again.” And with that, he left.

- Time skip (last one, we’re almost done folks) - 

“I’ll take that.” John grabbed the large box off your hands, and you squeaked with surprise. His face twisted into an unfamiliar expression of damaged concern almost instantly.

“Oh, sorry, I just didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Yeah, I was on a walk this morning.” He continued to struggle with the box. You’d finally had enough of it, and leaned in to help him haul it to the top of the shelf in the crate. 

The two of you stood there awkwardly, both refusing to look the other in the eye.

“I-”

“You-”

You both began speaking at the same time, interrupting eachother. 

“You go first. “ He offered.

“No, no, I’ve said enough.” You waved your hands defensively.

“So have I.” He chuckled. 

Another awkward silence. 

“I guess,” he began, “I’m sorry for saying that shit to you. I was stressed, angry, and I know that’s not an excuse, but then you got on the drugs, and I was so worried, and I guess I just never realized...” he trailed off, realizing that he was just on the verge of not making sense. He took a deep breath. 

“I guess, what I”m trying to say is that I would never, ever, want you to do what you had to do there. It wasn’t fair of me to put that kind of pressure on you, and everyone else. And, you didn’t hear it from me, but I’ll try to do better.” 

You chuckled lightly. 

“That sounds like a plan. And, I guess I’m sorry for not coming to you sooner.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Yes, I do. I just let you get worried about me, stupidly thinking that I could handle it all by myself, and I just totally forgot about everyone else. It’s kind of ironic that I, uh, snapped at you about how  your actions affect others, when I did the same exact thing. So, uh, I’ll work on that too.”

You swore you could see the smallest bit of a smile on his face. The first one in a while.

“Well then,” he thrust out his hand, “let’s make that a deal. Mutual forgiveness, and hopefully, mutual progress”

You took his warm hand in yours.

“You got it, John.”

[ukhtiemaryam]

I just watched the documentary on Netflix about the trending case of Chris Watts who murdered his wife and his children. I HAVE TWO POINTS HERE.

FIRST POINT

If not because of social medias I will not know yet before watching the documentary that the husband was the murderer and I would have hope that it wasn't him.

Why? Because before the revelation of the husband's confession, the documentary first showed videos of the wife telling to the world how HAPPY she is about her MARRIAGE, how BLESSED she is to have a great FAMILY, BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN, how proud she is to have her HUSBAND, a GOOD MAN, a GREAT HUSBAND and a GREAT FATHER. She seemed to have a PERFECT LIFE that most people wants to have.

They seemed so happy and blessed. She showed that to the world by posting pictures and videos and streaming every happy moment of her and her family and even successful businesses JUST LIKE WHAT MOST OF US is doing.

In ISLAM, we are ALWAYS REMINDED to not post pictures or videos of our achievements or success to AVOID EVIL EYE. Yes, it might be because of EVIL EYE. Wallaahu a'lam.

--

EVIL EYE is dangerous than black magic!

Prophet Muhammad peace and blessings be upon him said, "Most of those who die among my Ummah died because of the will and decree of Allaah, and then because of EVIL EYE."

May Allaah jalla wa 'alaa protect us.

--

Read these simple reminders (ctto) 👇🏻

1. Don't advertise your happy marriage on social media.

2. Do not advertise pregnancy on social media.

3. Don't advertise your kids achievements on social media.

4. Don't advertise your expensive buys on social media.

UNDERSTAND THIS ABOUT LIFE

1. Not everyone is going to be happy for you.

2. Most of the "nice" comments you get are just fake.

3. You just attracting the evil eye on you and your family.

4. You just attracting jealous people into your life.

5. You don't know who's saving your pictures & checking your updates.

6. You really need to stop this as because it may ruin your life, family, marriage and career.

BELIEVE ME - Social media sometimes is the devils eyes, ears and mouth, don't fall into the devils trap. Let a part of your life remain private.

--

SECOND POINT

At the end of the documentary, it is said in the video that "IN AMERICA THREE WOMEN ARE KILLED BY THEIR CURRENT OR EX PARTNERS EVERY DAY. PARENTS WHO MURDERED THEIR CHILDREN AND PARTNERS ARE MOSTLY MEN."

It is known to many that the main reason Chris killed his wife and children is because of his mistress.

This is the FITNAH of WOMEN to MEN. This is HOW FAR Men would go to FOLLOW their DESIRES.

That is why in Islam, POLYGAMY is allowed. Marrying 2 to 4 is allowed to make it HALAL. To avoid greater harm like in Chris' case. Because Men are WEAK when it comes to women. They easily fall on Shaytan's traps. Polygamy in Islam ofcourse have proper conditions that should be followed. A man can marry up to four women as long as he can be JUST to all his wives. (Long discussion)

And ofcourse MEN in Islam is ADVISED to avoid glancing at women especially mingling with Non-Mahram.

Please read this below (ctto)👇🏻👇🏻

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Question:

Assalamualaikum wrm.wbt.,

Is it true that women are the greatest fitnah for men?

Answer:

Waalaikumussalam wrm. wbt.,

Alhamdulillah, praise and thanks to Allah for the countless blessings He has blessed us all with. Blessings and salutations to the Prophet Muhammad PBUH, his wives, his family, companions and all those that follow his teachings to the day of judgement.

Allah SWT created every creation in pairs such as man and woman, day and night, the skies and the earth and others. However, Allah SWT has chosen humans as the most honoured of all creations for they are blessed with the ability to think.

Furthermore, among the purposes Allah SWT created mankind is to test them with trials and tribulations so that Allah SWT will determine who amongst them who has the best of deeds. At the same time, Allah SWT created women as a trial or fitnah for men. This is explained by Allah SWT in the Quran:

Allah SWT states:

زُيِّنَ لِلنَّاسِ حُبُّ الشَّهَوَاتِ مِنَ النِّسَاءِ

“Beautified for people is the love of that which they desire - of women…”

Surah Ali Imran (104)

According to the above question, there is a hadith which clearly states that woman is a fitnah for men. The hadith is narrated by Imam al-Bukhari, Muslim, Ahmad and many others:

From Usamah bin Zaid RA, the Prophet PBUH said:

مَا تَرَكْتُ بَعْدِي فِتْنَةً أَضَرَّ عَلَى الرِّجَالِ مِنَ النِّسَاءِ

“I have not left after me any (chance) of turmoil more injurious to men than the harm done to the men because of women.”

Sahih al-Bukhari (5096) Sahih Muslim (2740)

According to Syeikh Abdullah al-Talidi, this hadith means that after the death of the Prophet PBUH, the greatest fitnah left by the Messenger PBUH is the fitnah of women which means Allah SWT created women as a creation that incites the desires of men and they are easily seduced by them. Thus, the fitnah of women is the greatest fitnah for all of her is a source of fitnah, such as her voice, looks, actions and others.

Likewise, it is stated in a hadith from Abu Sa’id al-Khudri RA, the Prophet PBUH said:

فَاتَّقُوا الدُّنْيَا وَاتَّقُوا النِّسَاءَ فَإِنَّ أَوَّلَ فِتْنَةِ بَنِي إِسْرَائِيلَ كَانَتْ فِي النِّسَاءِ

“So, avoid the allurement of women: verily, the first trial for the people of Isra'il was caused by women.”

Sahih Muslim (2742)

The above hadith also stated that a Muslim should be conscientious around women which means he should be on his guard when he is socializing with a woman to avoid getting lured into fitnah.

Imam al-Nawawi Rahimahullah when commenting on this hadith said:

“Distance yourself from the fitnah of this world and women.” (See al-Minhaj Syarah Sahih Muslim, Al-Nawawi, 17/213)

The Honour of Women

When discussing the issue of the fitnah of women, it does not mean that women are viewed negatively according to syarak. Consequently, syarak honour and dignify the status of women. There are numerous advantages of women stated in sahih syarak evidences. Among them is a hadith narrated by Abdullah bin ‘Amr RA, where the Prophet PBUH said:

‏ الدُّنْيَا مَتَاعٌ وَخَيْرُ مَتَاعِ الدُّنْيَا الْمَرْأَةُ الصَّالِحَةُ

"The world is but a (quick passing) enjoyment; and the best enjoyment of the world is a pious and virtuous woman."

Sahih Muslim (715)

Imam al-Qurthubi when explaining the meaning of pious and virtuous woman stated in the above hadith as:

“She (woman) is someone who makes her husband happy when he sees her, when he instructed or ask for anything she would comply and when her husband is absent, she would protect (her husband’s dignity and honour) him and his property.”

This refers to the statement of the Prophet PBUH:

أَلاَ أُخْبِرُكَ بِخَيْرِ مَا يَكْنِزُ الْمَرْءُ الْمَرْأَةُ الصَّالِحَةُ إِذَا نَظَرَ إِلَيْهَا سَرَّتْهُ وَإِذَا أَمَرَهَا أَطَاعَتْهُ وَإِذَا غَابَ عَنْهَا حَفِظَتْهُ

“Let me inform you about the best a man hoards; it is a virtuous woman who pleases him when he looks at her, obeys him when he gives her a command, and guards his interests when he is away from her.”

Sunan Abu Daud (1664)

The same for a virtuous woman are those who are wives and also act as the main strength to their husbands. This is shown by Umm al-Mu’minin Khadijah binti Khuwailid R.Anha, when the Prophet PBUH is confused and scared after receiving the first revelation, Khadijah calmed the Prophet PBUH saying:

كَلاَّ وَاللَّهِ مَا يُخْزِيكَ اللَّهُ أَبَدًا، إِنَّكَ لَتَصِلُ الرَّحِمَ، وَتَحْمِلُ الْكَلَّ، وَتَكْسِبُ الْمَعْدُومَ، وَتَقْرِي الضَّيْفَ، وَتُعِينُ عَلَى نَوَائِبِ الْحَقِّ‏

"Never! By Allah, Allah will never disgrace you. You keep good relations with your kith and kin, help the poor and the destitute, serve your guests generously and assist the deserving calamity-afflicted ones."

Sahih al-Bukhari (3)

Conclusion

To conclude, every individual or human being is able to control his desires and saved from this fitnah. Hence, Islam has taught and placed guidelines for men when they are interacting with women and vice versa. Lastly, may Allah SWT protect us from fitnah of women and make our Muslim women as righteous and virtuous women. Amin.

Wallahua’lam

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May Allaah guide us all.

Please see photos in the end to learn DUA to avoid evil eye and have Allaah's protection from it.

#repost #evileye #americanmurderfamilynextdoor #americanmurder #chriswatts #watts #wattsfamily

[spyvstailor]

As A Thanks

So, since you all were generous in helping me with rent. THANKS FOR ALL YOU DID!

Here’s my end of the bargain. Chapter Three of Graveyard Dirt & Salt.

Don’t forget to follow me on my Ko-Fi and hey, just because we reached my goal, doesn’t mean you still can’t help a struggling author out by kicking a few funds her way over at my PayPal.

Chapter Three

There was a parable Father Jeffords told one Sunday in her childhood that she always remembered in times of doubt or worry.

It went like this.

A woman was beginning to worry that her husband didn't love her anymore. So she went to her church and confessed this to the priest.

'Does he still offer you support and encouragement in times of dire need?' The priest had asked.

'No,' she confessed.

'Does he hit you or make you believe that he in unfaithful?'

'No.'

'Does he sleep in another bed at night?'

'No.'

'Could you imagine your life without him?'

This question struck the woman. Could she? For a moment, she gave pause and thought about it.

'Yes.' She answered.

'Close your eyes,' the priest said. 'And imagine you're walking through a secluded wooded path. Are you alone?'

'No.' She admitted.

'Is it your husband at your side?'

'Yes.'

'So when you're alone, you feel him at your side?' The priest asked.

'Yes.'

'But you believe that this isn't love?'

'I want him at my side here and now,' she insisted. 'I don't want to have to imagine him in my head.'

'But I didn't tell you to imagine he was there, I just asked if you were alone. You put him there at your side, because he brings you comfort and companionship. Love isn't grand gestures and embraces, it's as natural as breathing. Close your eyes and allow yourself to just feel without thinking. Doubt comes with too much thought.'

When Sister Evelyn Marie and the others didn't return the day they had gone to the farmer's market, when Sister Agnes and Mr. Carruthers their handyman didn't come back after they went out to fetch them, Philomena began to worry.

It just so happened that as she decided to set out on foot the next morning to find them, that one of the abominations had been right outside the gate waiting.

If it wasn't for that thing, she would have succumbed to the same fate as the others.

Philomena recalled just standing there, staring at the ugly thing as it gawped back at her hungrily, the gate between the two of them, she had stood there for hours looking at it in disbelief, before Sister Mary Agnes came out to find her.

Guilt weighed on her heavily for allowing Sister Agnes and Mr. Carruthers to go. She knew that she would never forgive herself for that.

That was the day doubt began to creep into her mind.

Try as she might. As hard as she could, she could not tamp down that feeling.

But it remained, and the more she tried, the bigger the doubt became.

When she began to duck out during Sunday mass to kill the abominations that came when the bell was rung, was when she knew her faith was faltering.

If this was the end, the rapture. If all good souls were to be removed to heaven, then why were they left behind? Was this a test? Was it just chaos? Where was God among the dead that walked around their walls?

To the others, she was still a staunch leader of faith. God was everywhere, if anyone asked her. They were simply in the midst of their hardest trials and tribulations and would be rewarded in heaven for their duty.

But with every day that passed, she began to worry. They needed their well water tested come spring, who would do that? They needed clean water to live on.

Were there more milk cows out there should anything happen to theirs?

How long could flour last before it succumbed to wheat midge and mildew?

What would happen if one of the nuns needed a doctor? Sister Mary Claire had medical training as a nurse, but that was the best they had.

What did she do? What did she do?

She prayed.

Every night she prayed until it was practically mad begging and pleading. God if you love us, you must raise us up and out of hell on earth. Please, send me a sign. Send me something.

When it seemed like God wasn't listening, she began praying to every saint she could think of.

Saint Jude, Patron of hopeless causes, please hear me?

Saint Agricola, Andrew, Adrian, she worked her way down the list, but nothing. Not a sign, not a burning bush in sight. Her people, her nuns were lost in the desert.

Every day it was hard work as usual and more doubt.

The dead still came and went, she still climbed onto the wall every Sunday in jeans and an old blouse, to strike down at the dead with her stick, to pierce their heads and put them down.

The stink, the horror, it stuck with her, it tainted her and changed her. Warped her until she felt she was no more than one of them. Shuffling around blindly. Eating and sleeping, only to wake and eat and sleep some more.

When that man appeared on the wall, living and smiling easily, she was horrified that the dead had finally come for them. And they were getting better and better looking.

But he proved he wasn't much of a threat.

She was still wary.

It was like, seeing a man, living and breathing and capable of speech, it flipped something inside her on. She was a nun again, a normal woman with a duty to her faith.

He had to go.

As handsome as he was, as pleasant as he seemed. She had nuns here, they were her charge.

And that was when she realized, if God had left them here, then her trial was to lead these women, to keep them safe and as happy as they could be.

Maybe for a moment in the millions of minutes of her life, she had a purpose.

But then he came back, at least she suspected it was him leaving those silly little things on the wall where he first appeared at the back of the convent grounds, right behind the cloister's kitchen door.

It alarmed her for some odd reason, to think of him still hanging around, bringing them things like a cat leaving dead birds on their doorstop.

But when he showed up again, coming out of the woods as she was putting down the abominations that came calling to the sound of the mass bell ringing, she had a change of heart.

He had cleaned up some, shaved that backwoods beard he had, washed the grime and mud off his face, looked more like a man than a monster.

She knew he was still dangerous though, not in a bodily harm sort of way, but she had seen how a few of the younger nuns looked at him. They were still hot blooded women, and no amount of praying could chase away the feelings God gave women whenever a handsome man smiled their way.

And he was handsome. She had two eyes that worked just fine and they didn't miss the fine details God put into the man. Sure he was tall, dark, well muscled, with rangy limbs and broad shoulders, but there was more to him than just that. His eyes wavered between grey and blue so easily, she wasn't certain from one day to the next which colour they'd be. His face was both somehow boyish, but also patrician and villainous in a sort of brooding way. When he smiled the world around him seemed to light up, when he was at rest his face was grim and stern, eyebrows dramatic and dark, mouth firm.

But Lucifer was beautiful too and just as dangerous.

“We can't just keep shoving food out the backdoor at him like he's some stray,” Sister Mary Agnes finally said as they were scrubbing the cloister clean one morning, standing on the front steps sweeping as Philomena scrubbed the railing with a good stiff brush.

The older nuns were gathered there, a few of them plucking weeds from the shadowy side of the wall beside the steps.

“It's not Christian,” Sister Mary Monica pointed out.

“And you propose we bring him inside the cloister?” Philomena asked. “Give him a bed in a room beside ours?”

“I wouldn't mind,” Sister Thomas Aquinas declared loudly from where she was washing the north side windows. “I've survived the temptation of men for a good fifty years, I think I'll survive this one.”

“And what of the younger nuns?” Philomena asked, stopping her vigorous scrubbing to look at the older woman. “Do you suppose they could resist such a temptation?”

“He is awfully tempting,” Mary Monica said with a bright smile. “I almost got a little dizzy when he smiled at me yesterday.”

“Nothing more dangerous than a snake in the garden of Eden,” Mary Patrick declared firmly from where she was watering the flowerbed.

“Oh, charity and kindness cost nothing more than a smile,” Mary Monica said.

“I think he should be welcome into our flock wholly and without judgment,” Mary Elizabeth said, popping up from where she had been rounding the corner from the garden, her arms full of clippings and weeds to dump over behind the infirmary where in the fall they would be burnt. “He's come to us and offered to protect us and has asked for nothing but company. It's cruel to keep him out of our way.”

“He could be here to rape and kill us all,” Mary Patrick stated, her mouth tightening into a firm line.

“We shouldn't get carried away by wild dogs, Mary Patrick,” Mary Agnes said. “As far as I'm concerned, he's welcome around me. I would even go so far as to say I feel comfortable around him. He's a hopeless flirt, but he's goodhearted and lonesome.”

“We'll take a vote at lunch,” Philomena said finally. “And then decide what to do with him.”

“We should have taken a vote in the first place,” Mary Patrick stated.

There was a sort of eerie stillness to the countryside.

Even in the small town the Lieutenant approached. Normally there were the sounds of cars rushing by, driving on the streets, sometimes the far off laughter of children, a dog barking, birds singing.

There was nothing now. It was like the moments after an explosion, when you got caught too close to the action, when your ears were ringing, when around you was chaos and calamity, but you were in a vacuum of sorts.

He had been to the town before, it was one of his regular stops for supplies in the early days, though at this point he avoided it as best he could. Anyone could be driving through, moving on through the Georgian countryside. And at this point, he wasn't certain those left behind were friendly. Everyone was of the 'us or them' mentality at this stage in the breakdown of civilization.

But he would have a better chance finding a vehicle that would still start up, the odds were better in the town, so he moved with caution through the streets, eyes on the windows for signs of movement, both alive or dead.

Every nerve was on alert for a sound, for a movement, for a sign to get the fuck out of Dodge.

Ducking into a dust mote filled garage, he figured he might find a car and keys to match it in there, better than anywhere else.

What he found were two shufflers standing beside an Oldsmobile. Granny bronze, Sunday ready.

One, missing the lower half of her face, wagged her tongue helplessly at him, the other with her guts trailing behind her, stumbled towards him, tripping on her own intestines.

It didn't take much to put them down, he bashed them with the butt of his rifle and stepped onward, deeper into the garage.

Sorting through shit on the desk of the garage's back office, he tried to think of where they would put the keys to vehicles they were working on, when a change in the sunlight in the main area caught his attention.

It was subtle, like the light caught something that changed it only just a little.

Taking up his rifle, he quietly made his way back into the main garage bay to find a man in what looked like an expensive suit treading over the uggies the Lieutenant had dispensed of earlier.

The man didn't look like much of a threat, he was short and dressed like one of those fancy men from the city, which despite the grime and wear and tear to the suit, still stuck out in the middle of the end of days.

Was he alone?

Wandering if he should run and hide or reveal himself, show that he meant no harm and then head out on his way, the Lieutenant waited in the doorway of the office.

“You do this?” The man asked without turning around, his back still to the Lieutenant.

Glancing around, the Lieutenant realized he was caught, but the short man still didn't even offer him a look, eyes on the corpses, before he looked up and over his shoulder at him in the office doorway.

“Fucking nightmare, huh?” The short man went on.

Knowing how dangerous a man could be when he felt cornered, the Lieutenant remained in his doorway, hands on his rifle, ready for a fight.

Turning to face him, the short man huffed a deep sigh. “Look, I'm not looking to cause shit, I was trying to find some goddamned food. Thought there'd be a vending machine or something in here I could tip over.”

Normally the Lieutenant was the chatty man, but he didn't know this short fellow and he damned sure didn't trust him.

Narrowing his eyes, the short man came toe to toe with the Lieutenant, not at all scared of him. He opened his mouth to say something, when he sensed movement to their side, near the open bay door of the garage and turned his head.

Standing there were five deepwoods looking rednecks, rifles, ball caps, camouflaged, dirty and mean looking.

“You're in our town,” the leader said in that slow Georgian drawl they were known for, speaking around what sounded like a bunch of marbles in his mouth that the Lieutenant suspected was chaw.

Compared to them, the short, pretty boy in the black skinny suit looked like royalty, but he stared hard at the Lieutenant for a moment, before deigning to address the rednecks, turning his head.

“What?” He asked coolly.

The Lieutenant began to sense he was caught in the middle of some kind of situation he wanted nothing to do with and began to look for a way out if things went wrong. There was what looked like a backdoor through the office he decided he'd use if he had to.

“I said you're trespassing in our town, we don't like it.” The redneck leader drawled.

“We got a fee for trespassing, you have to pay it,” another man supplied with a slimy grin.

“The fuck you say?” Shorty demanded. There was a hint of a northern accent in his tone, something like New York or Boston maybe? The Lieutenant wasn't great with Yankee accents.

“Guns or your lives,” another redneck stated.

Reaching down the short man pulled a wicked looking custom trailing point knife from a strap near his fancy boots and held it up.

“I don't have a gun, but I got this. You want it?” The short man asked.

“What about you soldier boy?” A redneck asked.

“Hey, hey!” Shorty broke in roughly. “Do I look like some ten dollar whore you can bend over and rail after chowing down on a two dollar hot dog buffet? You were talking to me not him! Show some respect!”

The Lieutenant side eyed the man beside him. The short, Yankee voiced man with the thick, wavy chestnut hair, seemed ready to square up against the four rednecks who stood before them.

Flipping his knife in his hand, the man chuckled, “I mean, come on, guys. I know the world's gone to shit, but let's have some manners.”

Feeling a sort of chill creep up the back of his neck, the Lieutenant turned his head enough to spy the man licking the side of the knife, before grinning.

It was unnecessarily homoerotic, but he had a feeling that was the intention, it seemed to throw a few of the rednecks and they gathered themselves with an inhale and a scowl.

“I'm going to stab this fucking knife into your eye,” the man pointed the knife at a nearby redneck. “Before castrating you with it--”

The redneck nearest the Lieutenant pulled his trigger and hit the short man, sending him spinning backwards against the Oldsmobile, the Lieutenant took that chance to dive for cover behind the car, as the five men backed away, firing their guns into the gas station.

For an instant, just a short blink in time, before he reacted and hid for cover behind the Oldsmobile, the gunshots flashing brought to mind bodies, people falling, pleading, begging to live.

But they had kept firing, hadn't they?

“You don't fucking shoot your fucking rusted assed pieces of shit at me!” The short man hollered from where he had crawled to cover beside the Lieutenant, a bullet graze to his head. “I refuse to die by a .22!”

The Lieutenant wished the man would keep his distance, he didn't need anyone thinking he was with the yippy pup.

“Fuck!”

Shifting his rifle from hand to hand for a moment, he deliberated what to do, before deciding he did have a duty to protect the yippy pup. After all, in this situation, the man was the innocent party.

Despite claiming he had no gun, the short man whipped out a Springfield XDM from inside his suit jacket, and waited with zen-like patience for a pause in the shots, to reach up and fire back at the rednecks.

The Lieutenant peered around the edge of the car where they had scrambled and caught a few of the men get hit and fall.

“Fucking get blood all over my last good suit, you fucking cunts!” Short pup shouted, leaping out from behind the car and walking towards the remaining two rednecks, still firing his pistol. “Fuck you!”

Shocked into silence, the Lieutenant stood up from behind the car as the crazy little man finished off the second last rednecks with his pistol, before picking up a wrench from the nearby workbench to approach the last redneck who was clearly out of bullets and out of time to think of another weapon.

He watched as the short man bashed the shit out of the last man's skull, before throwing his wrench weapon away and huffing, “fuck,” under his breath.

Easing towards the backdoor he had spied earlier, the Lieutenant paused when he spied the man grab at his head wound, beyond him uggies who had heard the gunshots were ambling from the town, coming out of the woodwork, it seemed.

A snap decision had him returning to grab hold of the back of the man's suit.

“We gotta go,” he said quickly, dragging the little man with him out the back way. The short fellow cursing and swearing a blue streak the entire way.

Knowing the nature of the uggies, they would be distracted by the fresh meat and stop for a snack, so the Lieutenant knew they'd have some time to book it out of the town and back towards the convent.

“Let me go, fuck! Get off me, you goddamned fuck!” The short man argued, as they tore out of the town into the woods.

The Lieutenant released the man and he staggered, but stayed upright, holding his head.

“Come on, I'll patch you up and then you can get on your way,” the Lieutenant said as they ran together deeper into the woods.

“I'm fine, probably'll get tetanus, but I'm fine.”

“You're lucky them good ol' boys didn't Ned Beatty you,” the Lieutenant teased as they hurried North. They would circle wide around back to the convent, just in case the uggies were still after them.

The short man staggered and this time fell to his knees.

Stopping short, the Lieutenant approached him. “You alright?”

“Dizzy,” the man murmured, before dropping face first into the leaves of the forest floor.

The nuns were in a flurry when he dragged the short man's carcass back to the convent, a few of them were in a tizzy because he looked 'dangerous'. Sleeve tattoos and a nice suit apparently meant the man was trouble (though the Lieutenant had his concerns about that too), the others were in a panic because Sister Mary Monica was the only one with some medical training and even then it wasn't enough if the head wound proved serious.

Mother Mena was more unimpressed than angry or worried, but Mary Agnes reminded her about the virtues of charity and the woman made herself scarce in order for the others to coddle the wounded man.

The Lieutenant didn't go far, he didn't want the man waking up and terrorizing the nuns, but he also wanted to learn more about the man. What the hell was a well dressed man doing in the middle of the end of the world in small town Georgia scrounging for food?

The more he studied the passed out man, the more he realized the man didn't fit in at all with the Georgian countryside.

He dressed like one of them slick Las Vegas gangsters you'd see in films. Skinny suit, patterned silk shirt unbuttoned about three buttons too many, no tie in sight, silver rings on his fingers and fancy ankle boots that had been well polished and loved at one point.

Searching his pockets for weapons, produced a nice pair of knuckle dusters, a switchblade, a trailing point knife strapped to each leg, his handgun, a pack of playing cards, a pack of cigarettes, a nice silver lighter engraved BM, some loose bullets for his Springfield and a moneyclip with enough cash in it to choke a horse.

What he didn't find was any water or food, so he assumed while the man seemed capable with a gun, survival wasn't really for him.

Reaching into his pack, he pulled out some bottled water and a bag of trail mix for the man, he left them on the table beside the infirmary bed, before ducking out to get some fresh air and sunshine before the sun went down.

He loitered by the infirmary door, making sure no one went in and no one came out who didn't belong, protecting his nuns from the man, but also ensuring the man didn't wake up and just slink off into the night.

Popping a squat, he dropped his pack and pulled out his whetstone and knife to sharpen it.

He must have stayed there in that position, grinding his knife to a nub, when Mother Mena found him. She settled at his side like a lady, legs together, on the balls of her feet, hands on her knees.

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he lied.

Gazing out at her well maintained convent grounds, Mena said, “I've only known you a few days, but I've never known you to be this quiet.”

“Aw, well, I just figured the nuns were getting sick of my jokes,” he said with a grin.

“Actually, it seems they like you a little too much. We voted ten to one, for you to join us for meals now.”

“In the cloister dining hall?” He asked.

“Yes.”

He smiled and leaned in to whisper, “were you the one vote against it?”

“I won't tell,” she said with a small grin. “But no. Not me.”

“I knew you liked me,” he teased.

She laughed softly. “I think you're good for us. But no more dragging back strays, please? We don't know this man.”

“I know,” he said. “I don't really trust him much, but I couldn't just leave him there.”

“The thing is,” she began cautiously, “with you and this new fellow, my Christian heart says be charitable, but my woman's intuition says be careful.”

“It's probably for the best if you listen to your intuition, there are dangerous sorts roaming wild these days.”

Mena was quiet, then said, “well, thank the Lord we have you. At the very least, my gut says you're a good sort.”

“I try,” he said, with a small tilt of his head, “but we all have our demons, don't we?”

Beside him Mena was quiet, before reaching out and touching a comforting hand to his forearm and asking, “did you rifle through his pockets?”

“You bet I did.”

[thecuriouscrusader]

Untitled Destiel & Grandpa Henry Drabble

Characters: Dean, Henry, Castiel

Pairing: Dean X Castiel

Word Count: 1031

Tags: Established Destiel, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Supportive Castiel, Coming Out, Bi Dean, Bi Henry

A/N: I wrote this dumb lil’ drabble because I love Henry Winchester and I wish that he had spent more time with Sam and Dean, and of course that he had met Castiel!

I might expand this into a series of one shots about what might have happened if Henry hadn’t died but had remained stuck in the future. So, please do let me know what you think ^_^

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean replied as he danced around the kitchen preparing for Henry's visit.

"Are you nervous about telling your Grandfather about us?"

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. He looked up at Castiel who was staring at him with that trademark tilted head and perplexed frown.

"A little, yeah."

"Do you think he won't approve because I'm an angel?" Castiel asked.

"Oh no, he's real excited about the fact you're an angel" Dean said as he continued to stir the pot of stew he was cooking.

"Then why are you nervous?" Castiel pressed.

"Well, I've never come out to anyone expect for Sam before, and you're sort of...kind of...technically...a guy."

"Why would that offend him?"

"Henry was born in the 20s. His generation didn't tend to have a how-do-you-do approach towards people who were into the same-sex" Dean explained. "Or even those who were into both, in my case."

"That's a bit of a generalisation" Castiel stated.

"I hope so" Dean huffed. "Apart from Sam he's the only blood family I got now, so it means a lot that he's accepting of me. Obviously if he says a bad word about you his ass is being thrown out that door."

"Dean, he's still your Grandfather" Castiel said softly as he placed a hand on his boyfriend's back. "The two of you have been given an extremely rare opportunity to get to know each other. I don't see either of you just throwing that away. Since he got here Henry has tried to understand your way of life with hunting, I don't see how it will be any different with your relationships."

Dean turned around with a smiled. He wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist and pulled him closer.

"You always know what to say to keep me grounded" he said. "It's one of the many reasons I love you."

"Well, I say these things because I love you" Castiel stressed.

They shared a short but sweet kiss.

"Dean!" Sam suddenly called down to kitchen. "Henry's here."

Dean took a deep breath.

"Let's do this."

He and Castiel headed upstairs to the library where they found Henry and Sam discussing some of the swords on display.

"Dean" Henry beamed as he got up to hug his eldest grandson. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah, you too" Dean smiled. "This is Castiel" He said as he stepped back to introduce them.

"What an honour this is" Henry said as he took Castiel's hand in both of his and shook it heartily. "Sam and Dean have told me so much about you, Castiel. I hope you don't mind if I bombard you with questions?"

"Not at all" Castiel replied. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Winchester."

"Please, call me Henry. You're a fellow appreciator of suits I see!" He leaned in so that he could murmur to Castiel. "I don't think I'll ever grow accustomed to this garish plaid my grandsons have taken to wearing."

Castiel smiled amusedly.

"Sorry that we don't wanna look like lame investment bankers twenty-four-seven" Dean huffed.

"I'd still rather that than a lumberjack" Castiel replied.

"I'll go and check on the food" Sam offered before things got too off track; he also wanted to give them the space to have the conversation Dean had been dreading.

"There's actually something else about Cas that you should know" Dean said to his grandfather quietly. "Something about me and Cas."

"What's that?" Henry asked.

"We're...the thing is...we..." he trailed off and took a deep shaky breath.

Castiel frowned worriedly as he could see that Dean was struggling. He hoped that it would help as he took Dean's hand and entwined their fingers together tightly.

Dean looked over at him and smiled before turning back to his grandfather and speaking confidently:

"We're in love."

"Dean, that's wonderful" Henry said.

Dean was momentarily stunned into silence. "You...really think so?"

"Of course. You and Sam have faced so many awful trials and tribulations in your life time. It's wonderful that you have found someone as charming as Castiel to bring you much deserved happiness."  

"So it doesn't bother you that I like men and women?" Dean asked.

He was surprised when Henry chuckled.

"Dean, when I was a teenager I had two posters on my bedroom wall - Katherine Hepburn, and Cary Grant - and it wasn't just because I appreciated both of their acting abilities."

"Wait, are you saying that you're..?" Dean started.

"When I was fourteen your great-grandmother kicked me out of the house for a week because she caught me kissing the paper boy" Henry said with a fond smirk. "I've never felt a need to label it, so all I'm saying is that the heart wants what the heart wants...and that it does seem to run in the family."

Dean looked like he wanted to cry with joy as he threw himself at his grandfather and hugged him tightly.

"I have so many questions" he whispered.

Henry smiled fondly. "All in good time, but right now I would like to get to know your lovely partner."

"Yeah" Dean said as he cleared his throat awkwardly and stepped back. "Yeah, of course."

"I told you that you had nothing to worry about" Castiel soothed as he rubbed Dean's shoulder.

"He's wise too" Henry claimed. "Tell me, Castiel..." he said as he started to lead the Angel over to the table. "What are your intentions towards my dear grandson?"

"Grandpa" Dean said cautiously.

"Dean I'm just...joking? Is that how you would say it?" Henry teased.

"I intend to keep on caring for Dean in anyway that I can" Castiel answered.

"And does Dean treat you well in return?"

"Yes."

"Good. Even despite his inheritance of Winchester stubbornness?"

"Grandpa!"

"Of course" Castiel said. "If he gets aggravated I usually just buy him a pie. It sedates him for a while" he murmured to Henry.

Dean rolled his eyes as Cas and Henry sat down at the table together.

Sam reappeared and was pleased to see Castiel and Henry deep in conversation.

"So, I take that it went well?" He asked.

"Yeah" Dean smirked. "In fact, maybe a little too well."

[dfroza]

Love is eternal life.

and in Light our hearts belong to our heavenly Father, forever.

this is the most beautiful thought you can think, being illuminated by the Spirit in clear view of the Son.

and what we’re truly longing for in this world, is Heaven. because it is our True Home and it is pure Love. but we’re also here for a reason, for a time, which includes not only sharing this truth but conserving it as well.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 13th chapter of the Letter of First Corinthians where Paul writes about Love:

If I were to speak with eloquence in earth’s many languages, and in the heavenly tongues of angels, yet I didn’t express myself with love, my words would be reduced to the hollow sound of nothing more than a clanging cymbal.

And if I were to have the gift of prophecy with a profound understanding of God’s hidden secrets, and if I possessed unending supernatural knowledge, and if I had the greatest gift of faith that could move mountains, but have never learned to love, then I am nothing.

And if I were to be so generous as to give away everything I owned to feed the poor, and to offer my body to be burned as a martyr, without the pure motive of love, I would gain nothing of value.

Love is large and incredibly patient. Love is gentle and consistently kind to all. It refuses to be jealous when blessing comes to someone else. Love does not brag about one’s achievements nor inflate its own importance. Love does not traffic in shame and disrespect, nor selfishly seek its own honor. Love is not easily irritated or quick to take offense. Love joyfully celebrates honesty and finds no delight in what is wrong. Love is a safe place of shelter, for it never stops believing the best for others. Love never takes failure as defeat, for it never gives up.

Love never stops loving. It extends beyond the gift of prophecy, which eventually fades away. It is more enduring than tongues, which will one day fall silent. Love remains long after words of knowledge are forgotten. Our present knowledge and our prophecies are but partial, but when love’s perfection arrives, the partial will fade away. When I was a child, I spoke about childish matters, for I saw things like a child and reasoned like a child. But the day came when I matured, and I set aside my childish ways.

For now we see but a faint reflection of riddles and mysteries as though reflected in a mirror, but one day we will see face-to-face. My understanding is incomplete now, but one day I will understand everything, just as everything about me has been fully understood. Until then, there are three things that remain: faith, hope, and love—yet love surpasses them all. So above all else, let love be the beautiful prize for which you run.

The Letter of 1st Corinthians, Chapter 13 (The Passion Translation)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 48th chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah that points to the significance of adhering to truth:

“Listen carefully, O Jacob’s tribes,

you who are called by the name Israel

and come from the lineage of Judah,

who solemnly swear in the name of Yahweh

and claim to worship the God of Israel.

But there is no truth or righteousness in your confession!

Indeed, you name yourselves after the holy city

and say that you depend upon Israel’s God.

Yahweh, the Commander of Angel Armies, is his name.

“Long ago I prophesied things that would happen.

I issued decrees and made them known.

Then suddenly, I acted and made them happen.

I knew you were stubborn.

Your neck is like a rod of iron,

and you’re as hard-hearted as brass!

Long ago I told you these things.

Long before they happened

I proclaimed them

so you would never be able to say,

‘My idols did this;

my wood and metal idols decreed it!’

You have heard what I foretold and have seen it all unfold,

so admit that it happened and I was right!

From now on I will tell you about new things never seen before,

hidden things, well-guarded secrets you know nothing about.

They are created now, brand new today, not long ago!

You’ve never heard of them before now,

so you cannot say, ‘Oh, I already knew about that.’

You have never heard nor understood;

your ear had not been opened beforehand.

Though I knew that you would fight against me

as a rebel from birth,

yet, for the sake of my great name and for my glory,

I held back my anger and was patient with you

so I did not whittle you down to nothing.

See, I have purified you in the furnace of adversity,

but not like silver—I have refined you in the fire.

For my own sake alone I will do it,

so my name will not be dishonored.

I will not yield my glory to another.

“Listen to me, O Jacob,

Israel, whom I have called:

I am the One and Only,

the First and the Last.

With my mighty hand I laid the foundation of the earth;

with the span of my right hand I spread out the cosmos.

And when I speak to them, they both stand at attention.

Now, all of you gather around and listen.

Which of the gods has foretold these things?

I, Yahweh, love this man,

and he will carry out my purpose against Babylon.

He will be my “arm of might” against the Babylonians!

I am the one; yes, I am the one

who called him by name before he was born.

I have led him forward on a prosperous, successful path.

“Draw near to me and listen:

From the beginning, I have not spoken in secret.

From the beginning of time, I was there.”

And now Lord Yahweh has sent me, empowered by his Spirit!

This is what Yahweh, your Kinsman-Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel says:

“I am Yahweh, your God.

I am the One who teaches you how to succeed

and who leads you step by step in the way you should go.

If only you had listened to my commands,

then peace would have flowed like a river for you

and success would wash over you like waves of the sea.

Your children would have multiplied

to become like the sand of the seashore

and your descendants like grains of sand.

There would be no end of them,

and I would not cut them off.”

Go! Leave Babylon!

Flee from Chaldea!

Announce it with joyous singing!

Let everyone know!

Proclaim it to the ends of the earth!

Say it loud and clear:

“Yahweh has rescued his servant Jacob!”

The people weren’t thirsty

when he led them through barren, desolate deserts,

for he broke open the rock for water to flow for them.

The rock was split open, and rivers gushed out!

“There is never peace,” Yahweh says, “for the wicked.”

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 48 (The Passion Translation)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for monday, july 26 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about not giving in to fear:

Most of us understand that loving God is our essential obligation, the end or "goal" of all the other commandments, the very reason why God has spoken and why we exist. Yeshua plainly taught that this was the point of "the Torah and the prophets," the rest being commentary (Matt. 7:12, Matt. 22:36-40). However, while love is our greatest duty - the yoke of heaven - you might be surprised to learn that the most frequent commandment is simply al-tirah, "Be not afraid." Over and over again in the Scriptures we hear the LORD saying to those who trust in Him, al tira, "be not afraid" (Isa. 41:10).

This is a word for the exiles of every age: Be not afraid - al-tirah – not of man, nor of war, nor of tribulation, nor even of death itself (Rom. 8:35-39). If God be for us, who can be against us? Indeed, Yeshua came to die to destroy the power of death "and to release all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery" (Heb. 2:14-15). The resurrection of the Messiah is the focal point of history - not the "dust of death." Death does not have the final word. Indeed, because Yeshua is alive, we also shall live (John 14:19). Because of Yeshua's victory, we can now live without fear: al-tirah, "Be not afraid, it is I." "There is no fear in God’s perfect love," as the Apostle John wrote (1 John 4:18). If we love God because He first loved us (1 John 4:19), then we find courage because of the heart He imparts to us... God will uphold you – even in the trials of your faith.

Of course this doesn't mean that we should pretend that evil doesn't exist or that there's no real danger in this world. No, the Scriptures are clear that there are spiritual enemies in the world and we are engaged in a genuine spiritual war (1 Pet. 5:8-9; Eph. 6:10-18). Indeed every day the media attempts to frighten us by broadcasting lies and fearmongering propaganda. We must fight these messages of fear by remembering the truth and promises of God; we must never fear mere men but rather the LORD our God, who is our Maker, our King, and our Redeemer. We must train our minds to see beyond mere appearances, to ignore the messages of this dark world, and to look for God’s Presence in everything.

We must trust in the LORD and His care for our lives, which always comes “as we hope” in Him... May it please God to impart to each of us the courage that comes from Heaven itself. May He help us not to live in fear, but rather to walk in faith, full of confidence. So remember: al-tirah, "be not afraid!" Let us be strong and be strengthened in Yeshua our King!

Shabbat Shalom, chaverim, and thank you for praying for me this week; it truly helped me... [Hebrew for Christians]

7.23.21 • Facebook

and another about choosing our treasure:

Your faith must mean something to you if it is to mean anything to God, for “without faith it is impossible to please him” (Heb. 11:6). There must be agreement between your heart and what is real. The LORD must be your “ultimate concern,” the passion of your heart, your desperate treasure, or he will be as nothing to you (Matt. 13:12; Luke 8:18). God’s Name is Savior, Healer, Redeemer - the One who is everlastingly interested in your life (Heb. 4:13). As the late Abraham Heschel once remarked, "God is of no importance unless He is of supreme importance." Likewise King David said, echat sha'alti me'et Adonai, otah avakesh: "One thing I ask of the Lord; that is what I will seek" (Psalm 27:4). David asked for one thing – not many things. He did not come with a litany of requests. He was not double minded. He had focus. As Kierkegaard said, "purity of the heart is to will one thing." David sought the best he could find. He wanted the "pearl of great price."

The most important thing in life is to decide what is the most important thing in life - and then to act accordingly. Time is short for all of us, and it is more vital than ever to find healing for our woundedness. We have to quit pretending to be what we aren't and learn to be honest and vulnerable. Spirituality without honesty and humility is a sham. If you don't know how to begin, then begin there - by knowing your confusion, your need for the miracle of God's help and direction... For instance, if you don't know how to really love, then confess your heart's condition and pray for the miracle you need. It is a great mercy to be broken, in desperate need of heart, afflicted, tested, and in mourning. As it is written, "God has compassion for the lowly and broken, and saves the souls of the powerless" (Psalm 72:13).

When God said, "Let there be light, and there was light" (Gen. 1:3), He seemed to put on light as a robe of the Divine Majesty and Kingship: He wrapped Himself with radiance as a tallit gadol... Da lifnei mi attah omed (דַּע לִפְנֵי מִי אַתָּה עוֹמֵד) – "Know before whom you stand." The whole earth is lit up with God's glory, and every bush of the field is aflame before us -- if we have eyes to see (Isa. 6:3). May it please the LORD to open our spiritual eyes so that we can behold more of His glory and majesty in this hour... Amen. [Hebrew for Christians]

7.26.21 • Facebook

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

July 26, 2021

His Precious Blood

“But the LORD thundered with a great thunder on that day upon the Philistines, and discomfited them; and they were smitten before Israel. And the men of Israel went out of Mizpeh, and pursued the Philistines, and smote them….Then Samuel took a stone...and called the name of it Ebenezer, saying, Hitherto hath the LORD helped us.” (1 Samuel 7:10-12)

The Philistines had stolen the Ark of the Covenant, given to Israel by God. In a battle to take it back, the Lord miraculously intervened, routed the Philistines, and retrieved the Ark. Samuel, the spiritual leader of Israel, ordered the people to erect a lasting “stone of remembrance” called Ebenezer to commemorate God’s deliverance of them from their enemies, a scene reflected in the hymn “Come Thou Fount.”

Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by thy help I come;

And I hope by thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home.

Jesus sought me when a stranger, wandering from the fold of God;

He, to rescue me from danger, interposed His precious blood.

The great “Hall of Fame” of faith in Hebrews 11 extols many biblical heroes for their great works of faith and then mentions those who would overcome after Bible times, persevering through deadly trials. Some survived, some were killed, some wandered to find their dwelling place, but all needed rescue through the shed blood of God’s own Son. For you “know that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold….but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot” (1 Peter 1:18-19), “which he shed on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Savior” (Titus 3:6). Please come quickly, Thou Fount. JDM

[the-christian-walk]

HANG IN THERE

Can I pray for you in any way?

Send any prayer requests to Gods4all@aol.com In Christ, Mark

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

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

The scriptures. May God bless the reading of His holy word.

“James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes scattered among the nations:

Greetings.”

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.

James 1:1-4, 12

This ends today’s reading from God's holy word. Thanks be to God.

My writings from the gospels have brought me to Gethsemane’s garden and so I plan on pausing for a short period of time and pick back up with Jesus’ journey to the cross on March 21st with the message titled “Remain Watchful”.

So what will I write about until then?

Well, I’ve decided to bring you a series of messages from the Epistle of James and I have chosen this for two reasons.

First, you have to go way back to 2007, yes 14 years ago, to see where this writing ministry began. Then, I happened to be in 1 Peter doing personal Bible study when the Lord called me to begin writing as I worked my way through the scriptures. Since then, the journey has taken me through the end of the New Testament and all the way through the Old before starting the beginning of the New with the gospels, where I am presently. The goal is to work all the way back to where I began, and thus writing messages from every single word in the Bible. It has not only been a calling but the legacy I leave behind when my life here is over and I go to be with God and Jesus forever. I want these messages, granted to me by the Lord Himself, to continue ministering to generation after generation to come until that day when Jesus returns.

The second reason I chose James is that the author is none other than Jesus’ half brother, and as we see, he has a lot of blessed wisdom to share as well. We start looking at this wisdom in today’s first passage from James, chapter 1, verses 1-4, a passage that holds a timely message for us in the midst of our current world and national circumstances. Look again at these words here:

“James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes scattered among the nations: Greetings.”

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” James 1:1-4

Who was James?

Well, note that he doesn’t hang his hat on his genealogy. Rather, He makes it clear he was a servant, a servant of God and his half-brother, Jesus.

What do servants do?

Well, they serve of course and so James did just that through his willingness to share the words in this letter which was sent to the “twelve tribes scattered among the nations”. As we study through his writing, we will also see him provide guidance and direction in regard to serving as he was but as we see in today’s passage, the focus is solely on the matter of perseverance.

You see, the human condition hasn’t varied at all since the dawn of mankind. From the scriptures, Old Testament through New, we find people going through trials in life. If you haven’t faced on in your life, just wait because it’s inevitable they will come. Maybe you can relate all too well to this truth.

Yes, we all go through trials and I think I can honestly say that I haven’t ever heard anyone invite them to come.

Have you?

No, we tend to want life to be trouble free, right? We pray for difficulties to stay away from ourselves and others we care about because we see the hardships as negative events.

But as we see in our verses for today, James has another slant on the matter. For he writes that we should see joy in our trials, a proposition that is completely counterintuitive because no one would normally look at their sufferings as a good reason to be happy. The world would say that there’s little reason to enjoy tribulations.

Obviously, the Lord has a different view of things than the world and here we find Him sending us all a message through James:

We’re to consider it pure joy when we face many kinds of trials in life.

Why in the world would we do that, you might ask?

The word of God gives us the answer.

Because life’s dilemmas test our faith and then work to refine it as we wait for the Lord to work things out. This waiting teaches us trust but it also develops perseverance but this amazing work the Lord is trying to do within us can’t finish unless we allow it to. In other words, we only learn to persevere if we have patience, which is one of the fruits of the Spirit because we don’t have the strength on our own to persevere. We need the power of the Holy Spirit to help us do what we can’t do for ourselves.

Okay. So we are to consider it pure joy when we are afflicted by life’s trials because those trials help us grow in faith as we persevere and trust the Lord will work things out in His perfect time. The word of God is instructing us to do so. But note that there are additional rewards for being obedient to what God is telling us to do here.

For when we allow perseverance to finish its work, we reap the blessings of greater spiritual maturity and wisdom. We feel more complete in life because we maintained faith in the only One who can make us so. And we learn that we have all we could ever ask for in our Lord who can do all things, including helping us through our troubles in life.

Friends, we serve a Lord who is good, a Lord who loves us, a Lord who is always interested in working things out for the good of those who love Him in accordance with His purposes for them (Romans 8:28).

And so as we open our study of James, we find ourselves challenged immediately with a series of questions to self reflect on.

Do we consider it pure joy in the midst of our trials of many kinds in life?

Do we embrace our faith being tested and the ensuing perseverance that develops through that faith?

How well do we allow perseverance to run its course and finish so we might reach greater levels of spiritual maturity and completeness in our Lord?

Three main questions and even if self reflection exercise unveils weaknesses in one or more of these actions the Lord is calling us to, the good news is that we can improve and get better so when the next trial comes, and trust me it will, we’ll be better equipped to handle it because God’s word has helped us to that end.

As we open up in our study of this epistle, the Lord sends us clear messages.

Troubles will come but hang in there and allow Me to do a great work in and around you. I am with you, I am for you, I love you, and there is nothing I can’t do to help you.

Just trust Me.

Amen.

In Christ,

Mark

PS: Feel free to leave a comment and please share this with anyone you feel might be blessed by it. Send any prayer requests to Gods4all@aol.com

[wxnnabe]

May I please have some proposal/wedding/honeymoon hcs for Fugo with a female s/o. Thank you lovely.

Of course you may! I hope you enjoy~

-It takes time to get close to Fugo, and even more so for him to consider sharing a lifetime with an s/o. Though if he is truly committed to them, and they have overcome trial after tribulation together time and time again, he might even start to dream of a life with them without even realising it himself.

-It’ll be Bruno or Narancia that helps him realise that they should “just get married already”. While he almost had Narancia’s head for exclaiming it as loudly as he did, surprising both Fugo and his s/o, Bruno gave him a look that told him it wasn’t an unpopular sentiment within the group, and he started to think it over, giving the jewellers in the city more thought than he previously had and browses the stores with Bruno and occasionally Trish. He won’t buy anything straight away, he needs time to entertain the thought while he seriously thinks it over.

-It’s not until a good few months after that Fugo actually believes that he could have a life with them, that he wants to have a life with them, for sticking by him; for giving him interesting conversations that last all through the afternoon and night, for calming him when he’s to angry to think straight and for not being afraid of his almost firecracker nature, and for giving him stability, someone to fall back on, somebody to trust and love and care for, and know that they will do the same. He’ll start acting a little off…but it’s nothing that would upset them. His s/o will merely think that he is a bit more loving with the way he stares at them with a soft, serene smile on his face. They wonder what he must be thinking about, and whether or not they’ll bother wearing their underwear to bed tonight.

-When he finally finds the ring, it’s one that has taken a long six months of deliberating, declining and waiting for a better style, a better colour, better shaped ring; Trish mentions with an annoyed tone that it the ring was one of the first ones he’d looked at with her, but he waved her off as he made the purchase. It is simple, yet holds an elegance to it that makes it hard to take his eyes off it. Once he’s brought it, he’ll spend the night “strategising” the next mission: which is just him sitting in their bed and staring at the ring with mixed emotions, part of him was happy, and the other part of him was anxious beyond belief.

-He’ll wonder whether an elaborate proposal was in order, only to clear the thought from his mind as soon as it popped up. Thinking about planning the wedding was something that he was dreading; he didn’t need make himself go through any more, and it would be embarrassing if they were to say no. They had talked occasionally about they’re future, and while they seemed happy with the idea of it, the thought of proposing still scared him to the core. He wasn’t used to putting his heart on the line; then again, his s/o had done so countless times when opening him up, and given him a warmth and comfort that he had not felt before. He wanted to be with them, as did they, but there was a voice of doubt that had trickled into his mind everytime he reached for his suit pocket, and he found himself unable to ask the question he so desperately wanted to say.

-It’s only when that voice of doubt gets silenced on a cool autumn evening when he actually proposes. He knew what he was going to say, but it wasn’t scripted or planned. His mind would rehearse the proposal over and over as he tried to make it sound perfect on the way to a mission, or waiting for Narancia to solve an equation he would check, or simply in his quarters, away from everyone else. His s/o and him are in a peaceful and comforting embrace, and they whisper softly how they love him, and how they look at him, and even with their eyes glazed with sleep, they still look at him with a gaze that makes his heart soar; it’s the sort of gaze that holds pure love and content, and he knows that if he had any doubts, they don’t mean anything to him now. Just as softly, he tells them as he kisses their head and pulls the ring from his pocket,

“Marry me,”

-It’ll surprise them, (and wake them from their tired reverie no doubt) but as they say yes he feels an almost giddy feeling take over himself as he slides the ring on their finger. Speech be damned, Fugo would trust himself and give them a rare smile that reflected his excitement and thanked them. If they ask him why, he’ll laugh and respond that he hasn’t felt this happy in a long time, if ever, and that he’ll treasure the memory forever. They give him a warm grin and tell him they’ll be holding him to that.

-He’s not that much different than he was before the ring was on their finger to how he acts with them now that it’s there, but he does have moments where he realises just how real this all is and will smile to himself. If anyone’s around, they won’t bother him because they haven’t seen him this happy for such a long time before. When he does tell the gang, it comes with mixed feelings, but they generally all wish him well. Bruno is overjoyed, and will offer him a bright smile and a congratulations. Narancia and Mista are gaping at the words and it takes a bit for them to realise, but will be excited for him, with Narancia letting out a cheer and Mista pulling him in and interrogating him on just how and where he proposed (Did he remember to dim the lights? Did try to organise some special outing with his s/o then give it to them then?) Abbachio will sip his wine before telling him not to let all this get to his head and screw up their next mission, but the small upturn of his frown suggests he’s truly happy for his friend. Giorno, too, gives his congratulations with a warm smile. As busy as he is, he’s offered his hand in helping with the wedding, and his smile widens when Fugo comments he’d better start collecting pebbles for him if they’re to have enough flowers for the reception. Trish has sent her congratulations to the couple and insisted they wait until she has returned from her Europe tour to organise their hair, makeup and outfits for the big day. 

-Fugo is stubborn about a few small details like the flowers and making sure the colour scheme compliments both their tastes nicely, but he also understands that there are things that they should do together. While he would prefer a smaller gathering with close friends and their s/o’s family (he doubted his family would even return the rsvp, and if they did, it certainly wouldn’t make the night pleasant for Fugo), but if his s/o really wants a big wedding, he’ll relent. It’s a big job, with decorating and catering and organising gifts, and his s/o will have to be patient if it gets too overwhelming for him and be the one to clear the table and let him have a break. Once it’s finished, though, all those late nights spent double-checking the number of chairs, tables and cutlery at the reception and whether it’s all within their pricing range will pay off.

-Fugo will be overwhelmed by emotions when he’s waiting at the altar. He is happy and nervous at the same time, and he tries desperately to quell his nerves. Narancia, who stood by his side, would be rocking on his toes in anticipation, and he listened to the soft sound of his shoes tapping at the ground to steady his breathing. When he hears his best man let out a gasp of “whoa!” he comes back to where he is and turns to see his s/o, only for them to take his breath away. They’re beautiful, they always are, but seeing them dressed to marry him, of all people, puts a smile on his face. A few tears threaten to fall as they walk up to the altar to meet him, and can’t help but let out a happy chuckle when they return his smile with their own. He may manage to hold in his tears at the start, but his emotions will get the best of him when he reads out his speech, and Narancia (bless him) will come to his rescue, pulling some tissues from a box (Fugo doesn't bother to question how he fit the box into his suit, or why he has it in the first place, and thanks him quickly before continuing.) If his s/o starts to cry he isn’t worried that they’ll run out of tissues, at least. (although at the rate Narancia and Mista are dabbing at their own eyes…)

-The reception is joyful, big or small, and the guests will have to fight for the bride and grooms attention, because Fugo won’t be able to take his eyes of his s/o for the rest of the night. Once the meals are served, he wouldn’t mind getting up and dancing. He’d enjoy it even more if his s/o joined in, and after Mista and Narancia pulled him up for a couple of songs he’d give them a smile that had them getting out of their seat and joining them. If they were worried about their dancing skills, they definitely wouldn’t with the mood and the way everyone was smiling and cheering them on even though their moves are clumsy. No-one would ever live it down if Fugo’s s/o managed to “out-dance” him, especially not Narancia.

-Their honeymoon would be somewhere in countryside Italy. It’s a small town; one that Mista mentioned visiting while in his homeless youth following the simple life with fondness. After some investigation, Fugo found a lovely cottage villa in the outskirts of the little town, with a nice view of the endless green fields and a small forest that lies next to it. It’s a quiet little town, and the people there are friendly and pleasant to them. They would spend their time exploring the town, maybe doing some hiking or horseback riding through the forests and fields, or visiting a farm and picking some fresh (and quite delicious) fruits and vegetables to cook together later that evening. They do clean up the villa a bit themselves; and though he wouldn’t say it, he is jealous that normal couples get to do such mundane chores with each other daily. It’s such a break from the fast-paced gang life he is used to, and he wishes for a time where they can move to a town like this and wake up late everyday, come home and cook dinner and talk about their days, to wash dishes and laugh at his s/o who managed to get some soapy water on their nose, and to hold them in his arms as he reads them both to sleep. It’s a very relaxing honeymoon, but it holds sweet and warm memories that will be treasured for a lifetime.

[conifertwins]

Armed and Ready - 3/?

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] "And that's how I earned my red belt," Marco beamed.

"My goodness! And these belts determine your rank at... at that hand dancing fighting form." Eclipsa mimed a poor imitation of a fighting stance.

"Karate."

"Right, karate." Eclipsa took Marco's hand. "You really are an amazing person, Marco."

"Well, I don't think I'd be the person I am now, if it weren't for Star," Marco shrugged. "She... she's really brought out the best in me."

Eclipsa squeezed his hand gently. "Us Butterfly women tend to do that in those for whom we care deeply."

"So...," Marco said, trying to avoid her gaze, "is that because of your magical abilities or something?"

She laughed, letting go of Marco in the process. Although she'd only held onto him for a moment, he suddenly felt adrift. He looked at her hands, thinking of grabbing hers for a moment for... comfort? Security? Control? He could feel himself getting upset, but he wasn't sure why. He was just having a pleasant conversation with... with Eclipsa. Nothing to see here. Just two people talking in the rose garden at night.

"Marco?" Eclispa was no longer laughing.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I was just...."

"Your arm, dear."

Marco looked down. His arm had turned purple, his fingers covered in suckers. "Oh no."

Eclipsa grabbed both of his hands. "Quick, Marco. Look in my eyes. Tell me what you're feeling."

Marco leaned back, trying to pull his hands away in the process. Eclipsa's grip was firm and surprisingly strong.

"Marco, tell me."

He closed his eyes and exhaled, feeling himself slump forward in the process. "I... I feel lost. I don't know why you want to talk to me or what we're doing here."

"Why, we're having a lovely conversation," she blinked, surprised.

"No, no... you're not listening. I don't know what we're doing here. What I'm doing here. I don't know why we're talking. Look, I'm really grateful that you did... whatever it was you did in the infirmary. I'm glad that you're so... so gracious and not some power-hungry villain...."

"Villainess," she gently corrected.

"Right. And I'm glad that you seem interested in me and Earth and all of that, but... look... ever since I came back, Star's reaction, River's reaction, the guards, everyone... I... I don't think I belong here. Maybe Tad was right. Maybe I just came here to make myself miserable."

Eclipsa sat back and crossed her legs, placing her hands primly on her knee. "How did you get here, Marco?"

"I just... you know... cut a portal and came to Mewni."

"But how did you cut a portal?"

"Oh, I have a pair of dimensional scissors."

"And how did you get those?"

"They're mine. I got them from Heckapoo."

"You... got them... from Heckapoo," she mused. "You say that like you went to the market for milk and eggs. Heckapoo has never been the type to just give anyone anything."

"Well, I earned them. It took... um, in her dimension, it took me sixteen years to get my own pair. Of course, when I came back, I was in my fourteen-year-old body again."

She uncrossed her legs and leaned in toward Marco, looking at him as though she were expecting him to sprout wings at any moment. "Let’s go over that for a second. You... a boy from Earth... won a pair of dimensional scissors from Heckapoo of the Magical High Commission by enduring sixteen years of trials and tribulations at her hand."

"I... guess?"

"Without the aid of magic?"

"Well, we don't really have magic on Earth."

"And you doubt your right to be here on Mewni?"

"It's just... it's just that...."

"Things haven't gone as you expected? You don't feel appreciated by those you love, by those with whom you felt you had a special bond?"

Marco looked into her eyes. She wasn't trying to pry or scheme or manipulate... at least, not that he could tell. He saw only concern, only care... the first real concern and care for his wellbeing that he'd encountered in his time back on Mewni. He tried to nod, but started to sob instead. Eclipsa pulled him close.

"Shhh, my dear. No need to cry." She ran her gloved fingers through his hair as he cried into her shoulder. "You are more special than you know. In fact, few Mewmans have ever won a pair of scissors from Heckapoo. Most scissors are passed down through families, generation after generation. Songs are sung about the ancestors who won them. It is... it is not a trivial feat. You are, by all accounts, exceptional."

"Sorry," he said, moving back. "I... really, I should be grateful."

"And why should you be grateful, exactly?"

"Well, Star did decide to let me stay, and she did say I could be her squire."

"Hm.” Eclipsa paused. Her face seemed relaxed, at ease, but Marco felt he could see a fire behind her eyes, growing with each moment. After what felt like minutes, she blinked, her lips spreading into a wide smile. “You know, I think your destiny calls for you to become more than a mere squire. Would you like that," she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Marco slid down to the far end of the bench. "I... I'm not... look, could you just take care of my arm again? I need to get back to my room."

"I would, but it appears you've already taken care of it yourself."

Marco held his arm up. It was normal again. No purple, no suckers... just fingers and a thumb at the end of his ordinary, unremarkable arm.

Eclipsa stood up and took his still-elevated hand in hers. "Marco, my dear, thank you for the lovely conversation. I trust you'll come see me again sometime soon." She began to walk along the path to her tower.

"Uh, sure."

She paused to turn to him. "If you do decide to visit me again, I'm out here every night at the same time. Only next time, be sure to wear some shoes. They might help with the thorns," she said with a lilt in her voice.

Marco sat for a while, looking into the sky. For a moment, he felt like he was the only still point in the universe, with everything moving around him, swirling away from his vantage point.

"What just happened," he asked, hoping he would prompt himself to answer. He waited in silence until he felt the chill of the night through his clothes. “I guess there’s only going to be one way to find out,” he grumbled, as he made his way back to the infirmary, carefully avoiding both the shadows and the thorns.

==== ====

Yvgeny sat up in surprise at the pounding on the door. His surprise turned to irritation, the moment he heard the familiar voice of his Mewman friend yelling at him.

"Buff Frog! C'mon, I need you to get up," Star yelled, stamping her feet in the swamp outside of the Bulgolyubov residence. "Don't make me use my wand," she threatened, before immediately transitioning into, "Rising Sunshine Door Destruc...."

"Stop!" Yvgeny opened the door, towering over Star in his bath robe. "No need for spell. No need to cause any more ruckus. You will wake my poor babies if you keep this up." He rubbed at his temples as he composed himself. "Why are you here at this time of night, Star Butterfly?"

"Monster magic." Star spat the words, as though they'd have some sort of effect on Buff Frog.

"Monster magic?"

"Yes! Monster magic! You know, the magic that monsters use." Star pantomimed a horned monster projecting magic from its face. "That kind of stuff."

"Why are you even asking about this sort of thing, and at this hour," he asked, incredulous at her audacity.

Star looked down into the mud that made up the floor. She stared at the swirls that seemed to slowly spin as the waters of the swamp ebbed and flowed outside.

"Marco... Marco's sick. And it's my fault. I... I think I gave him a virus. A magical virus. And there's nothing in any of the Mewman archives that can cure something of this nature. I wouldn't even be bothering you with my mess if it wasn't serious. I'm... I'm sorry for waking you up. It's just... time is of the essence, and I can't afford to lose him again." She bit her lip to regain her composure before looking up to Yvgeny. "Please, Buff Frog. I'm desperate."

Yvgeny sighed. "Monsters... don't use magic. It is not for monsters to use."

"Well, duh," Star shrugged. "Not now. But before. Before the Mewmans came. Even I've heard about the wild, dangerous, scary magic from the olden times. And I know we only have, like, one side of the story. There's gotta be, like, some secret monster history where you tell tales of brave monster warriors who dared to use forbidden magic."

Yvgeny rubbed the back of his head. "There are... there are old children's stories, but nothing else. Magic is always very bad, though, even in those. It is always used to punish other monsters, in direct emulation of evil Mewman queens."

"As a magical princess, I'm choosing to ignore that last part," Star asserted. "But you have stories, then? Do you have, like, any books about this, or do you monsters just sort of draw them on your walls or...."

"Star!"

"What? I've just... never seen any books in any monster homes."

"That is very offensive. Of course we have books." Yvegny walked to a wall in his living room, scraping away a layer of mud to reveal a large bookcase. "We keep books safe behind walks like these. Many books. Monsters are very literate. You know, monsters invented the alphabet that Mewmans...."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Do you have a book of these stories or not?" Star, bouncing with excitement, didn't notice the irritation crossing Yvgeny's face.

He grabbed a bright red hardbound book, covered in gilt flourishes and old Mewman lettering. "This is Stories of the First People. This was a gift from my grandmama," he said, looking toward the sky. "If I give you book to borrow... borrow!... you will babysit for me three weekends, yes?"

"Three weekends at any point over the next... year or so?"

"Three consecutive weekends. Next month."

Star sighed. Marco needed her. She'd really screwed up... again... and he was in danger. She had to make it right. She had to be the one to make it right. And, besides, the tadpoles were really cute. "Okay. You have a deal."

Yvgeny handed her the book. "Thank you, Star. I am sorry to hear about Karate Boy's illness. I understand your desire to protect someone you love."

Star stumbled backward. "What? Love? I mean, Marco is... is a good friend. And I want to help him. That's all."

Yvgeny rolled his eyes. "Yes, I always seek out dangerous magic to help inconvenienced friend and troubled acquaintance. Anyhow, best of luck to you." He led Star to the front door, graciously guiding her out. "Oh! Before you go, let me tell you story of magic lady who sought to help 'good friend' with magic spell."

"Okay."

"Once upon a time, magic lady sought to help friend with magic spell. Spell went bad. They both died. The end."

"That's not a very good story."

"What do you mean? It's one of the first stories in that book," he said, pointing to the book he had just handed Star. "Is very good story. Good cautionary tale. Good night," he said, closing the door.

Star narrowed her eyes. "Well, I hope the sequel is better."

[metawitches]

But First, A Brief, Non-Exhaustive Tour Through My Favorite Romantic Vampire Media

Though I have been writing reviews on this blog for more than three years, I have been keeping a dark secret from you, dear readers. I haven’t really been keeping the secret on purpose, but a lie of omission is still a lie, so please, try to forgive me. I don’t think this reveal will come as much of a shock to my regular readers.

The truth is, I have a deep, lifelong love of vampire romance. I’m open minded, and can consider other supernatural romances as well, but werewolves are so packminded that I question their devotion to their beloved. Ghosts seem so thin and superficial. Zombies are interested in brains, but I want more than just a relationship of the mind. Angels and demons both have to leave their beloveds in the lurch when they get called into service by the higher- and lower- powers they serve. A shapeshifter is an inconstant lover in so many ways, how could we ever develop trust?

There are exceptions: Oz from Buffy. The medieval ghosts of Lynn Kurland’s paranormal romance novels. The sentient zombies of In the Flesh. The married angel-demon couple from Midnight, Texas, another Charlaine Harris story. And no one is more trustworthy than True Blood’s own shapeshifter, Sam Merlotte.

As a general rule, witches and wizards are the only other supernatural beings I truly find exciting, with their wide range of abilities to charm or bewitch the pants off a girl, depending on the mood.

Since I’m a witch myself, and wizards are a dime a dozen, can you blame me for looking for a little more variety in my fantasy life?

Bring on the dark, brooding vampires, who are the epitome of devoted, romantic lovers, are immortal, manageably dangerous and adventurous, definitely where they’re supposed to be during the day, gorgeous and who can share their blood. Blood which, if used in small quantities, will heal without turning a human into a vampire, but which can also make the user immortal if desired, so they can share everlasting love with their vampire lover.

What could go wrong? Don’t answer that, we all need to discover some things for ourselves.

I admit, this is a hereditary issue for me. My mother and older sister sat me down in front of the Gothic soap opera Dark Shadows in 1966, when I was 5 years old, to watch the trials and tribulations of vampire Barnabas Collins, of the supernatural Collins family of Collinsport, Maine. Collinsport was a mysterious town on the cold, rocky shores of northern Maine, just like the small towns in coastal northern Maine my mother’s family had lived in for 300 years, until my parents moved us to upstate NY.

With the amount of inbreeding that went on in the small early populations of northern New England, I wouldn’t be surprised if I share some relatives in common with Barnabas Collins. 😉 I certainly share the vampire’s love of night and inability to handle strong light.

(Yes, I live in New Mexico, why do you ask? This is why hats, tinted glasses and long summers with warm nights were invented. True Blood is a Southern Gothic for a reason. The Twilight vampires can keep their rain soaked, cold climates.)

I still have a copy with this original cover.

Dark Shadows ran for 6 seasons, through 1971. Then I moved on to films and book series, most notably Anne Rice. I received 2 copies of her book Interview with the Vampire for my 16th birthday, in 1977, because my friends and family knew me well, and I haven’t looked back since. Though the author clearly favors the character Lestat, tenderhearted Louis will always be my favorite of her vampires. He is, after all, the vampire who was interviewed.

There were other favorites through the years, such as the film The Lost Boys in 1987 and the Dark Shadows revival in 1991. There were viral vampires, such as The Strain and The Passage, descendants of Nosferatu rather than Dracula. Viral vampires are better not mentioned if you prefer your vampires to be romantic. There was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, film and series. Who could resist Angel? He was so irresistible that David Boreanaz has starred in one TV series or another continuously ever since. I definitely resisted Spike, though I know others didn’t.

There was The Vampire Diaries on The CW, which ran for 8 seasons (2009-17) and spawned 2 spin off series, The Originals (2013-18) and Legacies (2018- ). The first 4 seasons of The Vampire Diaries were as good as any vampire media I’ve seen anywhere. I lost interest when the storylines were watered down by splitting the cast to create spin offs and some of my favorite actors left the franchise, but those vampires are obviously still doing it for others.

Over the years, Ann Rice has written more than a dozen books on vampires, plus other series on other supernaturals, some with her son, Christopher Rice. She managed to make a mummy sexy. Her original vampire trilogy was turned into two mediocre films. I also had a fling with Katie MacAlister’s Dark Ones book series in the 00s, a fun vampire soulmate series. Now I notice she’s added a few installments since I last checked in with it about 10 years ago so, yay! Something else to read over the winter.

The big vampire story of the 00s was Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight book series, which my kids and I shared the way I’d shared Dark Shadows with my family as a child. The Twilight films were terrible, terrible things. I recommend skipping them. But as with so much that’s perceived to be originally aimed at teenage girls, the Twilight books have been unfairly maligned. They are full of universal themes and vivid characters.

Bella is a great character for anyone to follow and she has a romance to die for. She does so much more than have a boyfriend and a baby in her books, but even if that’s all she did, it would be enough. Navigating personal relationships is a huge part of life, and for someone from a background of abuse and neglect, like Bella, learning how to have healthy relationships when you are older is a long term challenge.

If it takes a vampire family to show you what real love, care, equal relationships and decent parenting look like, there’s nothing wrong with that. There are very good reasons why Bella’s romance is in love not just with Edward, but with his entire clan. Because of her childhood experiences, she’s in love with the idea of transforming from a human who has difficulty defending herself against the human monsters in her world, who include her parents, into a vampire who can protect herself and her entire devoted vampire family from even the fiercest of supernatural monsters. After a youth full of struggle, she finds her own power and uses it on her own terms to win a war, in addition to conducting an epic vampire romance.

There was a last, forgotten, one and done vampire TV series of the 00s, Moonlight, on CBS, starring Alex O’Loughlin, who quickly went on to become better known as Steve McGarrett in the Hawaii Five-0 revival, and Jason Dohring of Veronica Mars. Moonlight aired during the 2007-08 season, so it was affected by the infamous, endless writers’ strike which killed more than 1 show that year. It was just hitting its stride when the season was cut short.

As a vampire romance noir which explored multiple historical time periods plus the present day, it was sadly ahead of its time for broadcast TV. Plus, though the show had already been completely recast after early sample filming (except for Alex O’Loughlin), the writing still focused too much on the relationship between O’Loughlin’s main vampire character, Mick St John, and the lead ingenue human female, Beth (Sophia Myles), rather than the much more interesting and complex relationship between Mick and his ancient vampire, on again-off again wife and maker, Coraline (Shannyn Sossamon).

The show was course correcting in that direction when it ended after 16 episodes, an unusually short season in those days. I would be thrilled with a reboot of Moonlight that was done right. (It’s currently streaming on cwseed.com.)

Alas, the media deities rarely listen to my brilliant ideas, so we are subject to the slings and arrows and fangs of outrageous fortune. But just 4 short months after Moonlight went off the air, a new vampire romance rolled into town, and it wasn’t shy about telling us what it wanted. True Blood was the answer to all my vampire romance prayers.

Let’s Finally Review True Blood Season 1

True Blood aired on HBO for 7 seasons, for a total of 80 episodes, from the fall of 2008 to the summer of 2014. It’s based on the 13-14 book series The Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charlaine Harris. The TV series was created by Alan Ball, who was handpicked by Charlaine Harris because she felt he understood what she was trying to do with the books. He stayed on as showrunner for the first 5 seasons, which were all critically acclaimed.

The TV series stars Anna Paquin as Sookie Stackhouse, a telepathic waitress who lives in Bon Temps, a small town in rural Louisiana. Sookie sees her telepathy as a disability because she has a hard time turning it off, which makes it difficult to concentrate on anything else or to have normal human relationships. As a result, she’s socially isolated, other than a few close friends and her family- the warm, generous grandmother she lives with, Adele, known as Gran (Lois Smith), and her charming but selfish, promiscuous brother, Jason (Ryan Kwanten).

Sookie works at her friend Sam Merlotte’s bar and restaurant (Sam Trammell), where she’s also friends with much married fellow waitress Arlene (Carrie Preston) and fabulous short-order cook and hustler, Lafayette (Nelsan Ellis). Her best friend and Lafayette’s cousin, Tara (Rutina Wesley), begins working at Merlotte’s as a bartender at the beginning of the series. Most of the town passes through Merlotte’s at one time or another, since it’s a popular local hangout.

Sookie’s parents died in a flash flood when she was a child, but other than that and her telepathy, her life has been normal, even humdrum. Until vampires came out of the coffin a few years ago, as far as she knew there was nothing extraordinary about the world. She still has no idea why she’s psychic.

A synthetic blood which can sustain vampires, known by the brand name Tru Blood, has encouraged vampires to take the controversial step of revealing themselves as a species to humans. Amongst both vampires and humans, some have embraced this revelation and some fear what it will mean for the future. Sookie makes her very first vampire acquaintance, with the vampire Bill Compton (Stephen Moyer), when he stops by Merlotte’s to try a Tru Blood. Bill is attempting to mainstream, meaning he’s trying to blend in with humans as much as possible, rather than living the full vampire lifestyle, which naturally disregards human manners and customs. Normal vampire ways tend to alienate normal humans fairly quickly. They can even be deadly for humans.

Vampire blood can be used as a recreational drug, so there are dealers who capture vampires, drain their blood, then sell it. Sometimes they kill the vampire in the process. In the first episode, an unethical couple lure Bill into the parking lot to drain him, which Sookie overhears using her telepathic ability. Sookie is surprised to discover how easily some silver and the promise of a tasty snack can disarm a vampire. She rescues Bill and their relationship is born.

Due to the images her telepathy puts in her head, Sookie has never been able to date human men, so Bill is her first boyfriend. His main attraction is that she’s unable to read his mind. Perhaps because they are technically dead, vampire minds are a blank to her. For a telepath who’s always “on”, this is soothing.

True Blood season 1 is a Southern Gothic, paranormal, horror, mystery, romance, urban fantasy, much the same as the book it’s based on, Charlaine Harris’ Dead Until Dark. Though the subject matter is intense, the writing is relatively fast-paced and there’s a dark comedy element to it that keeps the horror aspect from becoming overwhelming. The show isn’t as light and breezy as the books; in addition to the book’s humor it uses visuals and a heightened reality to emphasize the outrageous nature of Sookie’s world. The characters frequently comment on that outrageousness and on the ironies taking place around them.

In season 1, there’s a serial killer on the loose who provides the season long mystery arc. The killer is after young women who’ve been with both vampires and human men. Since Sookie has a vampire boyfriend and is frequently around other men, she eventually becomes one of the targets.

The show’s theme song, Bad Things, by Jace Everett, perfectly encapsulates the mood of True Blood. It’s an upbeat country song that promises an out of control romance, which plays over the opening credit sequence of each episode. Humans and animals experiencing intense situations flash by, while names are superimposed over them. The activities in the visuals aren’t necessarily even immoral, they’re just filmed in a way that makes them feel creepy, until you aren’t sure anymore what’s actually bad and what’s just making you feel bad.

Like an insidious vampire who wants to have his way with us, the opening credits act to lower our boundaries and confuse us, so that we’re disoriented and easily taken out of our normal lives. Whether we’re being glamoured, romanced, drugged or conned, the first step is to convince us to leave our previous concept of normal behind.

The first year I watched True Blood, I thought the opening sequence was the grossest, most horrible opening credits sequence ever made. Now I love it and think it’s one of the best. Is that a good development or a bad one? *shrug* I still can’t watch the maggots though. The vampires haven’t completely taken me over.

True Blood continues to lower our defenses and push our boundaries once the opening credits end. Vampires and shapeshifters are welcomed into normal society. They take part in panels on CNN, discussing legal changes which have been proposed to help or hinder their assimilation. They stop at the 7-11 to pick up a 6 pack on their way home. They have difficulty getting a contractor to come out to their rural home and need a referral from a friend. They are business owners, employers and employees.  They worry about getting blood stains out of their laundry. Possibly a little more often than most of us, but still.

They sleep underground in the graveyard when they can’t make it home before dawn. It’s sort of like crashing at a friend’s house. Okay, that one is pushing the boundaries of normal human culture. There is an entire vampire culture that exists outside of human sight, but we only touch the surface of it in season 1.

Sookie is drawn into this world as she seeks to solve the murder mystery and enlists Bill’s help. She visits a vampire bar run by the ancient vampire sheriff, Eric Northman (Alexander Skarsgård) and his vampire progeny, Pam (Kristin Bauer van Straten). They learn of her telepathy and seek to use her talents to solve their own mysteries.

Shenanigans ensue for 7 unparalleled seasons.

True Blood Season 1 vs The Southern Vampire Mysteries Book 1 (Dead Until Dark)

True Blood season 1 follows Dead Until Dark, the first book in the series, closely, using the same serial killer plot as the main mystery storyline and Sookie’s romance with Bill as the supernatural focus. The book was originally published in 2001 and my 2008 paperback copy is a quick 292 page read.

Neither the TV season nor the book are my favorite of their respective series, mainly because I am emphatically not a fan of Bill Compton and eventually I start to gag over the way Sookie continuously drools over him. But they are both entertaining and introduce the world of Sookie and Bon Temps with enough suspense, heart and humor to draw you into the next book and season.

In season 1, the TV series faithfully recreates Charlaine Harris’ version of Sookie’s world, from Gran’s old but well-loved farmhouse to Eric Northman’s vampire tourist bar, Fangtasia. The series also included mainly the same characters and subplots as the book, with a few alterations. The main difference is that the TV show expanded on plotlines that were only briefly mentioned in the book, such as recreational V(ampire blood) consumption by humans, Lafayette’s off hours activities and the vampires’ struggle for equal rights.

Many of the supporting characters and their backstories are much more developed in True Blood season 1 than they are in book 1. This is an unusual difference between a book and a movie, but it’s not as surprising when you realize that the Sookie Stackhouse novels are narrated in the first person by Sookie herself. Expanding on other characters isn’t a priority for her, even though it could be aided by her telepathy. She’s basically obsessed with Vampire Bill and the murders in this book, whereas she’s known the other characters her whole life. It’s natural for her to have little interest in providing extra details, so she tells us enough, but we don’t get a full biography.

Two characters who go on to appear in multiple books are left out of the TV series, Bubba and JB du Rone. Bubba is based on a very famous real life singer, so they probably figured he’d be distracting, as he typically is in the books. JB du Rone is a sweet man-child who shares some similarities with Lafayette and eventually becomes close to Tara. I suspect the Lafayette we see on screen is actually meant to be a composite character, with many tweaks and Lafayette’s brains.

The biggest change from Dead Until Dark is the addition of Tara Thornton to the cast. In the books she doesn’t appear until the 2nd installment, Living Dead in Dallas. Several major season 1 subplots revolve around Tara, including the set up for the main storyline for season 2, and she’s heavily involved in other characters’ plot arcs as well. Rutina Wesley is such a vibrant presence that it’s hard to imagine Bon Temps without her version of Tara, so this was certainly a welcome change. With Tara comes her alcoholic mother, Lettie Mae, played by one of my favorite actresses, Adina Porter.

Another notable change is the expansion of the storyline for book character Amy Burley, played by Lizzy Caplan. She and Jason become involved with a vampire played the Man in the High Castle himself, Stephen Root, with disastrous consequences, but it’s fun while it lasts. The Amy-Jason-V subplot is particularly effective, with its psychedelic visuals, sometimes subtle violence and obsessive relationships.

The actors and the visuals drive home the multiple abuse aspects of this plotline in a way that would be much more difficult using only words. The genius of True Blood is that the writing, acting, music and visuals come together to make an entertaining, memorable show while showing the dark side of society and how that dark underbelly can bring pain and pleasure. But True Blood wouldn’t exist if Charlaine Harris’ genius hadn’t already given us the snarky, bold, scandalous world they are elaborating on.

True Blood is streaming on HBO’s websites and Amazon Prime. Charlaine Harris has a new book in her current Gunnie Rose series, A Longer Fall, coming out in January 2020. Until then, I’m amusing myself by revisiting Sookie Stackhouse.

Images belong to those who created them.

Book vs Screen Review: True Blood Season 1 vs Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris-But First, A Brief, Non-Exhaustive Tour Through My Favorite Romantic Vampire Media-Bring on the dark, brooding vampires. #TrueBlood #CharlaineHarris But First, A Brief, Non-Exhaustive Tour Through My Favorite Romantic Vampire Media Though I have been writing reviews on this blog for more than three years, I have been keeping a dark secret from you, dear readers.

[discoveringthebible]

Looking for Hope

This morning my church during worship played the song “Cornerstone” by Hillsong United. The song has had me thinking all day about it and hope and what it actually means to live Hope out. 

For those that do not know it, here are the lyrics: 

V1: My hope is built on nothing less

Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness

I dare not trust the sweetest frame

But wholly trust in Jesus’ name.

(repeat)

Chorus: Christ alone, Cornerstone

Weak made strong in the Savior’s love

Through the storm

He is Lord

Lord of all

V2: When darkness seems to hide His face

I rest on His unchanging grace

In every high and stormy gale

My anchor holds within the veil

My anchor holds within the veil

(Repeat Chorus 3 times)

V3: When He shall come with trumpet sound

Oh, may I then in Him be found

Dressed in His righteousness alone

Faultless to stand before the throne

Bridge: Cornerstone

Oh, yeah, in the Savior love

He is Lord

Lord of All

(Repeat Chorus)

We are living in a society that is quickly losing hope, and trying to desperately seek it wherever we can try and find it; whether that is through material things, or through relationships. But no amount of anything replaces that void people experience in their lives, because God is actually the only Being big enough to fill it.

As a Christian, I see a lot of hopelessness. I see a lot of brokenness, and this doesn’t just include those who do not profess to be a Christian, I see it in Christians too. 

In North American society, especially that of the United States, there is a great focus on individualism, which has also crept into the Church. The focus has gone away from communal, to individual, meaning that a lot of people are taking the stance, “I’m a Christian. I’m going to go to heaven. I’m safe.” 

Well, that actually isn’t Christianity at all, that is a perversion of Christianity. People think it’s Christian, but it actually isn’t. It’s not biblical either. There is nothing individualistic about Scripture, Old Testament or New Testament. 

According to dictionary.com, hope is defined as, “to look forward to with desire and reasonable confidence” it also says, “to believe, desire, or trust.” 

For many people, the future is a scary place. There is not only political unrest across the world, but there are also wars happening: countries are bombing other countries. There is also a lot of religious persecution. Not just Christians are being killed for their faith either. Even in the US, people are being killed for their religious beliefs, or their perception of people’s religious beliefs. 

In the state of California, the Attorney General’s office actually does an annual report of hate crimes that occurred during a calendar year. (This is police reported data, this does not include matters that were not reported.) According to the report, in 2018, there were 201 separate events regarding religious hate crimes against individuals or groups. Of that, 126 of those crimes were committed against Jews. 10 against Catholics. 1 against Protestants. And 28 against Muslims. There were also 30 attacks of religious hate against other religions (that are not Christian or Islamic).  

While we have come a long way from the first century, where Christianity began, Christians still face a great deal of persecution, especially that of other places around the world. According to Open Doors, in 2018, 4,305 Christians were murdered for their faith. 11 die on average every day.  

Some ask, “So then, what do we have to be hopeful for? We’re gonna eventually die anyway, so we might as well do what we want.” (Or use the slang term, “YOLO!”) 

However, there is so much more to living a life than just the material things around us. We are not only human bodies, but we also have souls and our souls continue, even after we die. 

Isaiah 38:18 says, “For the dead cannot praise you [God]; they cannot raise their voices in praise. Those who go down to the grave can no longer hope in your faithfulness.” 

Isaiah 51:5-6 says, “My [God’s] mercy and justice are coming soon. My salvation is on the way. My strong arm will bring justice to the nations. All distant lands will look to me and wait in hope for my powerful arm. Look up to the skies above, and gaze down on the earth below. For the skies will disappear like smoke, and the earth will wear out like a piece of clothing. The people of the earth will die like flies, but my salvation lasts. My righteous rule will never end!” 

God’s salvation through Christ lasts forever! 

Romans 5:6-11, says, “When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners. Now, most people would not be willing to die for an upright person, so someone might perhaps be willing do die for a person who is especially good. But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners. And since we have been made right in God’s sight by the blood of Christ, he will certainly save us from God’s condemnation. For since our friendship with God was restored by the death of his Son while we were still his enemies, we will certainly be saved through the life of his Son. So now we rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with God because our Lord Jesus Christ has made us friends of God.

When we as Christians really believe this, our whole perspective on life should change. We were sentenced to death because of our sin, but through God’s own son we are saved! 

This Good News should permeate in our hearts and in our lives that we should tell others about it, and live our lives like it actually matters. 

Mark 16:15-19 says, “And then he [Jesus] told them, ‘Go into all the world and preach the Good News to everyone. Anyone who believes and is baptized will be saved. But anyone who refuses to believe will be condemned. These miraculous signs will accompany those who believe: They will cast out demons in my name, and they will speak in new languages. They will be able to handle snakes with safety, and if they drink anything poisonous, it won’t hurt them. They will be able to place their hands on the sick, and they will be healed.’ When the Lord Jesus had finished talking with them [the Christians], he was taken up into heaven and sat down in the place of honor at God’s right hand.”

All Christians are called to preach the Good News. ALL Christians. We should be so filled with God’s love, hope for restoration and filled with the Holy Spirit to be able to stand bold and preach to anyone who is willing to listen. And there are a lot of people willing to listen. 

When we become Christians, we therefore are at peace with God as our sin is accounted for, because of Jesus Christ. 

Romans 5:1-5 says, “Then, being justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, by Whom, through faith, we also have access into this grace wherein we stand and rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we also rejoice in tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings forth patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope; and hope does not humiliate. Because the holy Ghost [Holy Spirit], Who is given to us, drenches our hearts with the love of God.

Drenched with the love of God. Imagine if we took this to heart and we actually lived this way! This is how the first Christians lived. This is how the disciples lived when the Holy Spirit came upon them! (See Acts 2)  

Are you a Christian? How is your faith? 

Are you searching?  

Have you once accepted Christ, but are now unsure of what it all meant? 

God is waiting for you! 

God loves you.

God wants to have a relationship with you.  

Romans 5:17-19 says, “For the sin of this one man, Adam, caused death to rule over many. But even greater is God’s wonderful grace and his gift of righteousness, for all who receive it will live in triumph over sin and death through this one man, Jesus Christ. Yes, Adam’s one sin brings condemnation for everyone, but Christ’s one act of righteousness brings a right relationship with God and new life for everyone. Because one person disobeyed God, many became sinners. But because one other person obeyed God, many will be made righteous.” 

John 3:16-17: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.”

Want to explore more? 

Still unsure?

Message me. :) 

Want to learn how to become a Christian?

First thing to do is to believe that Jesus’ sacrifice for you. (See Matthew 26-28). Jesus was beaten, murdered on the cross, and that he died for you and your sins. And three days later rose again, bringing new life, paying off your debt to God. 

Next, repent of your sins and commit to turning your life to God and following Jesus’ example of how to live. (See 1 John 1:5-2:17). 

Once you have repented, then the next step is to confess those sins. (See James 5:7-20) 

After Confession, find a church family and to become baptized. (See Acts 2:38-39). 

And after that, I would highly recommend finding a mentor. Someone to come alongside you in your new journey of faith. To teach you how to live like Christ, as well as to help build on hope. I am not going to suggest this road will be easy. There is no such thing as easy Christianity. However, through all of life’s hardships, trials, tribulations, persecutions, etc., God will be there for you. :)

And because Jesus is God’s Son, God also knows what it’s like to be human. He knows what it’s like to hurt, to have pain, to live this life. Be comforted in that. (John 11:35)

And if you have decided to accept Christ. Rejoice and message me. I’d love to be able to share in that with you. :)

If you are still thinking about it, or continuing to search, please message me and I will answer your questions, and if I cannot answer a question, I can point you to someone who can. 

May God’s peace, hope, love and blessings overshadow you

Cody Marie. 

[duaneodavila]

Highly Agile Team Training: It’s A Jungle Out There

As much as I bemoan the inevitable spring arrival of our fresh-faced consultants (shameless plug: check out “Baby-Birds: A Care and Feeding Guide for In-House Counsel”), I can usually find a way to insulate myself from their never-ending fountain of theoretical opportunities for efficiency. What I can’t seem to duck is the quasi-mandatory trainings with outside consultants. You know the ones I’m talking about, the perky Stepford types who come armed with their seasoned smiles, personality quizzes, and pop-psychology theories that are targeted at making you a better version of your corporate self.

Since my company apparently signed up for one of those “consultants of the month” clubs and hasn’t figured out to how to quit yet, I’ve been subjected to quite a few of these. To date, I’m a blue INTJ eagle with reformer and Ravenclaw tendencies who is best suited to being a lawyer, reality television producer, or honey badger patronus. Thank goodness, I paid attention on career day in high school. I just don’t have the stomach for 90 Day Fiancé.

These days, I apparently also don’t have much of a stomach for consultants peddling what I can only describe as the “it’s so obvious, I can’t believe we’re paying good money for this” method.

Enter Highly Agile Team training. Allow me to summarize the three tenets of this method which will purportedly make you better suited to be a part of such a team.

Point one: Show up on time to meetings. End the damned things on time.

Point two: Set an agenda for said meetings. Send out the damned thing in advance of meeting so people have time to read it.

Point three: Be honest, open, and truthful (or, to use one of my new favorite, not at all an HR issue, acronyms — H.O.T. Yeah, that’s right. Go forth and be H.O.T.)

There, I just saved you half a million dollars in consulting fees.

Here’s the jaw-dropping part (okay, I grant you that the price tag is pretty jaw dropping in itself, but wait, there’s more): the business lapped this up like they’d never heard of such radical, outlandish behavior. Imagine, being punctual and prepared for a meeting, and saying what you mean instead of saying one thing at the meeting and dissecting it like an episode of Thrones the minute the meeting is over. What novelty! We could change the world! Or as I like to think of it, we could all be attorneys!

Seriously, I sat there watching my internal team members scribbling notes in their H.O.T.-branded notepads and gazing up at the consultants like they’d just cracked the code for calorie-free pizza. I started to wonder if maybe I’d grown too hard, too cynical, too unwilling to appreciate fresh perspective when it was offered.

And then the consultant wrote asses on the white board instead of assesses. So, no then.

I will say this for Arthur, consultant extraordinaire and purveyor of Highly Agile Team training and all things H.O.T., he could read the crowd well enough to know there were more than a few doubtful faces (thank you Quality and Safety VP). It didn’t take him long, but Arthur eventually narrowed his consultant’s gaze on me, taking on his most professorial tone.

“You read skeptical to me,” he says. “Crossed arms and closed off posture are body language symptoms indicating I don’t have your full buy-in.”

Instead of pointing out that body language symptoms make it sound like I have the fever and chills and in dire need of a decongestant, I offer Arthur a broad smile. “Oh no,” I say breezily, “I’m really enjoying this session. I just should have brought a cardigan with me.”

He eyes me, debating whether to move on and let it go or try and use me as some sort of shame-based teaching moment. He goes for the latter.

“So, Kay,” he says, squinting at my name placard, “how would you assess your H.O.T. behaviors? On a scale of one to 10.”

“I’m a solid eight, Arthur.” I know, I know. I’m a total 10 and so are you, dear reader. At least when compared with my seatmate, Andy from Sales, who I’m pretty sure hasn’t been able to find an open and honest conversation with two hands and a flashlight since the Reagan administration. But I don’t want to invite Arthur to pick on me further. We’re paying this guy by the hour.

“Pretty confident in your assessment, Kay.”

“She’s definitely an eight,” pipes up Randy from R&D. Thanks, buddy. I’ve never been so thankful to be described as an eight in my life.

“She’s the lawyer,” Jim from Finance adds.

Sensing a fellow bullshit artist, Arthur withdraws and declines to make eye contact with me for the remainder of the morning session. Smart move, Art. Smart move.

Once we’ve all had a turn assessing our H.O.T. behaviors (and that’s assess, friends, not asses), we move on to the part of training that everyone loathes — role playing. I brace myself as Arthur dutifully proceeds to move small teams through conflict-resolution role scenarios that are frankly as pleasurable as a root canal when the anesthesia has worn off.

Still, I learn a few things from watching my fellow business partners struggle. This is tough stuff for them. They don’t want to be blunt. They don’t want to have the difficult conversations. They don’t want to be perceived as anything other than amiable team players. And that’s where we add value. We’re not afraid of conflict — conflict and resolution is what we do best. We know that when two parties are motivated enough, there’s always a path forward, even if it means cutting our way through a jungle of barbs and ankle-turning twists to find it.

Hours later and sick to death of role playing, we reach the pinnacle of our H.O.T.ness. We use our newly acquired skills to look inward and decide … what animal would I be in the corporate jungle? Seriously, I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment, since as you regular readers know, I love to wax poetic in these columns as to my trials and tribulations in the in-house jungle.

My business partners pick solid, if predictable picks: Lions (courageous leaders), cheetahs (fast and agile), and monkeys (fun and clever). Bless the Quality and Safety VP who deadpans that he’s the baboon from The Lion King, a little wild-haired and crazy, but generally in the right.

Warily, Arthur turns to me. “What about you, Kay?”

“I’m an African honey bee,” I say sweetly.

“A honey bee?” He doesn’t want to ask, but he just can’t help himself. “Please elaborate.”

“I’m a hard-working team player with just a bit of a sting when needed.” Actually, what I really want to do is have my watershed Network moment here and tell him I’m the one-eyed crocodile you never see coming, rising from the murk to rid the corporate watering hole of the weak all in the name of keeping the company herd strong. I don’t say this, mind you, because I like my job and it’s easier to do my job if my business people think I’m a nice person. Or at least a useful person who can help them navigate their way out of the jungle to yes.

I do get at least one other unexpected joy out of this particular training. I get to decide what jungle animal Arthur (and others of his ilk) would be. After much deliberation, I settle on the majestic capybara. Not because I have any idea what their function is in the jungle, but because they are the largest of the rodent species.

Kay Thrace (not her real name) is a harried in-house counsel at a well-known company that everyone loves to hate. When not scuffing dirt on the sacrosanct line between business and the law, Kay enjoys pub trivia domination and eradicating incorrect usage of the Oxford comma. You can contact her by email at KayThraceATL@gmail.com or follow her on Twitter @KayThrace.

Highly Agile Team Training: It’s A Jungle Out There republished via Above the Law

[theawkwardgiraffeslife-blog]

Hobbies: Reading

Probably one of the simplest and most self-explanatory of hobbies, but yet probably one of the most overlooked. While the rest of the world speeds by with online social media, books are often left forgotten. People trade in the books for the ‘movie adaptations’ readily and forget to enjoy the written literature right in front of them. For those of us that are book worms, books hold a special place in our hearts. But for some people who don’t read very often, this can be a very relaxing hobby to try out. 

If you’re not really into reading but would like to be, here are a few ways to get started and a few personal recommendations of my own at the end. 

Book Clubs

This one is fairly standard, but book clubs are a great way to get more into reading while also being a little social doing so. So instead of hiding in a bedroom-like-cave like I do when I read, you meet up with a group of people and discuss a book that you’ve read. If you really don’t know what you’d like to read and need a little guidance, most clubs will have a predesignated book chosen for the group to read. There are other clubs out there that advise you to just read whatever you want and then get together to have a mixed discussion over what everyone’s read, but those tend to be a little harder to find I’ve noticed. 

If you don’t know where to look for a book club, for example if you’re new to the area and don’t really know anyone, try MeetUp. It’s an website/app where you can find different groups based on what interests you have, such as reading. There are usually a large variety of book clubs on there, depending on what area you live in/around, so it’s more of choosing what kinds of books the group reads or what kinds of topics they like to cover. 

Book Challenges 

If you’re more of a solo act reader, you can always try and challenge yourself. Make a sort of competition out of reading so that you feel like there’s a goal to obtain. For some, it can push them to read more so that they can reach their goals. 

I’d recommend GoodReads as you can join the “[Insert Year Here] Reading Challenge” which tells you to pick a certain amount of books you’d like to read, and you can keep track of your progress. You can also get others inputs on there, as you can also link it with Facebook and find some of your own friends from Facebook and see what they’re reading too.  

Themed Book Lists

If you’re really just in the mood to read certain types of books, you can look up some themed book lists to get you started. And not just the generic ‘here’s a list of some fantasy books you might think is okay’, but themed in the sense of ‘here’s something you can read if you want to feel more inspired’ or ‘here’s a few books you might want to check out if you just want to laugh your butt off’. Below are a few links to a few such lists that hopefully can help get you started. 

53 Books You Won’t Be Able to Put Down - Buzzfeed

43 Life-Changing Books You Need To Read - Buzzfeed 

15 Best Books of 2017 (so far) - Esquire

Popular Youtuber Books - Goodreads (I’m personally obsessed with some of the Youtubers on this list and love their books - and also yes I know you looked at the list and saw John Green on there and thought whoever made that list was full of crap, but rest assured, John Green is indeed also a YouTuber on top of being a writer) 

101 Best Selling Books of All Time - ListChallenges 

Personal Recommendations

In my opinion, there is no right way of reading or wrong way. It’s just getting invested into a story/plot and diving head first. But I do have a few personal recommendations that might help you enjoy reading just a little bit more: 

Take reading outside. Just pack up whatever book you want to read and go outside. Whether you’re going to the beach, out to the pool, out in the woods, or just out on your back patio. Take a book with you and relax into your surroundings.

Bubble bath it up. Yeah yeah go ahead and judge, but nothing relaxes me more than a bubble bath and a good book. The combination of sweet smells, a good story, and warm water always lull me into my own personal paradise unparalleled by anything else.  

Sip away! Something else that can always make reading more enjoyable is having something to drink. Depending on your tastes, it can be a warm cup of tea, a hot cup of coffee, an iced latte, or a glass of wine. Whatever makes you feel most at home and happy will work. 

Turn up the tunes. Now a lot of people can’t focus when there’s a lot of music, but I’m the exact opposite. I absolutely love listening to music when I’m reading. It makes me feel like I’m creating my own little soundtrack to the story playing in my head as I read. If the top hits on your ITunes list doesn’t do it for you, try finding more calming sounds off of other apps such as the sound of rain or a thunder storm. Relaxing sounds will help set the mood as well. 

Find somewhere comfy. If it’s not outside, find somewhere inside to cuddle into. It can be a little reading nook, your bed, a couch, a special chair, a beanbag, whatever. As long as you’re comfy, that’s what matters. 

Start your own book club. If you were interested in joining a book club but just couldn’t find any that you really wanted to get into, try starting your own. Get a group of willing friends and set up your own personal book club. Make it even more fun by making it a Sip and Read kind of book club, where you pour everyone a glass of wine at the start of it and get the party started. 

There’s just a few books that I’d personally recommend, primarily just because they’re books I’ve thoroughly enjoyed. 

“I Hate Myselfie” by Shane Dawson. On the YouTuber list I recommended from above, I can’t tell you how much I loved this book. I laughed until I cried, I cried until I started laughing. His unique sense of humor just keeps you turning pages until you at the end and sobbing on the floor about where the rest of it is (fret not, he has another book out now too).

“Let's Pretend This Never Happened: A Mostly True Memoir” by Jenny Lawson. Another book that had me doubled over in laughter, even at topics you would never imagine could ever be funny. But if you’re the same kind of introverted and awkward individual that I am, you will definitely appreciate Lawson’s humor and relate to her struggles. 

“The House of God” by Samuel Shen. A misleading title I know, but this book has nothing to do with religion. It’s actually the tale of a young man who has finished medical school and going through internship (the stage of being a doctor just before being a resident). A stark sense of humor, it chronicles the main character’s trials and tribulations of what becoming a doctor is really like (or at least when this book was set back in the 70s or so). What you gain from it and what you lose from it. 

“Night“ by Ellie Wiezel. If you haven’t already heard of this book, it’s an autobiography of Ellie Wiezel’s ordeal in a Nazi death camp during World War II. Honestly this book made me cry like a big baby. I honest to god sobbed while reading this, as it is that powerful an emotional. For some this fact might turn some people off, but I still recommend it because it’s probably one of my top ten favorite books of all time and deserves to be read by everyone.  

“Eat Pray Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert. This is one I’m actually currently reading, but has been on my ‘to read’ list for forever just because I’d heard so much praise for it. And now I see why,as it doesn’t just take you through an amazing story, but a journey. A journey about self discovery, independence, and self love. 

Hopefully this was helpful to you guys on getting started, please let me know if you guys have any favorite books or any recommendations that you have as well! Follow me on Twitter @lizcgiraffe :)

[dailyaudiobible]

10/05/2018 DAB Transcript

Jeremiah 4:19-6:14, Colossians 1:21-2:7, Psalms 77:1-20, Proverbs 24:23-25

Today is October 5th. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I'm Brian. It's great to be here with you today from the lovely rolling hill of Tennessee. And I hope it's a lovely day in the rolling hills of wherever you are or the mountains or the planes or the valleys or the desserts or the coastland of wherever you are. I’m excited that wherever we are we have a place that we can all go around the global campfire as we allow God's word to come washing into our lives for today. So, we’re reading from the Common English Bible this week and we’ll continue our journey in Jeremiah today. Chapter 4 verse 19 through 6:15.

Commentary:

Okay. So, in our reading from Psalm 77 today we saw, in poetic fashion, Asaph who was the author, in great distress as he cried out to God for comfort and for some resolution to what was going on his life. And this Psalm is pertinent to us because, I mean, because we’ve all likely walked through those same kinds of emotional seasons in our lives and in this Psalm six questions were asked. Will my Lord reject me forever? Will He never be pleased again? Has His faithful love come to a complete end? Is His promise over for future generations? Has God forgotten how to be gracious? Has He angrily stopped up His compassion? Okay. So, once again we see the Bible saying out loud the things that we sometimes feel inside, but do not give voice because it will seem ungrateful. But these questions, whether we speak them out loud or whether we just like stuff them deep inside, they find their way into our lives. And it usually happens when we’re feeling the discomfort of crisis, right? Or we’re going through hardship or we’re suffering from loss or from pain or whatever is coming against us. We never ask those kinds of questions, right? Those six questions. We never ask them when things have turned out, right? When things turn out the way you wanted them to turn out, when we think things are going well for us. But when we’re suffering, Asaph’s conclusions often do become our own. His conclusion was, this is…this is my misfortune. It's my misfortune that the strong hand of the most high seems different now. Seems like He's…God's turned against me. So, if this is sounding eerily familiar, then the Bibles speaking. What are we to do when we feel downcast and bewildered like this. The psalmist suggests something that might seem counterintuitive or even unproductive but it's essential. We must stop and remember. In Asaph’s words, I will remember the Lord's deeds. Yes, I will remember Your wondrous acts from times long past. I will meditate on all Your works. I will ponder Your deeds. So, Asaph is suggesting that focusing our energy on remembering God's faithfulness will bring back context, right? Will give us our balance back. And this is not unlike what the apostle said about the peace that passes all understanding. Right? When we closed the letter to the Philippians a couple days ago. Asaph used the remainder of the Psalm to bring his emotions into balance by worshiping God and remembering His faithfulness. So the next time one of those six questions or all of those six questions start filtering into our life experience, go back to your old journals you’ve kept or just sit quietly, still yourself, and remember times when God undoubtedly carried you through a difficult time because He's doing that right now. It’s just hard to see when you're in the thick of it, but it's much easier to see in hindsight. Surely, I thought I was going down but surely I'm still standing here today because God was faithful and brought me through. He will never leave us. We will not be forsaken. The Bible tells us over and over and over and over, His faithful love endures forever. So, that's either true or it's not true. It is true however. And it's true whether we believe it or not. So, we can embrace this, His faithful love endures forever or we can deny it but it's still true. When we deny it in thought, word, or deed we’re simply not participating, we’re not partaking of the gift that is available to us.

Prayer:

Father, we definitely confess that we've had these postures of heart that we read from Asaph in the psalms. We definitely felt this way before. And we take the counsel to stop and remember, slow it down and remember that You have been faithful that You have carried us through difficulties before and You are continuing to carry us now. And in the future we’ll be able to look back on this time and see that You were faithful because Your faithful love endures forever. Come Holy Spirit, bring Your comfort into our lives today. We ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, it's home base, it's where you find out what’s going on around here.

We were just talking about remembering and journaling and that’s something that we’re big on around here. So, we make our way through the Bible, the Bible speaks an awful lot of things into our lives. And it's important that we remember them. But we don't. I mean, we think we’ll never forget but then we forget 10 minutes later. And, so, when we take a few moments out of our day, write down some thoughts, some of the things that stuck out in the Scriptures, some of the interesting things that happened in our lives, we’re creating the story of our lives, we’re telling it as it happens. And we can look at previous chapters, right? We can look back at other seasons exactly like Asaph is suggesting and remember God's faithfulness to us. So, we have the Daily Audio Bible Journal and some great writing utensils in the shop for exactly this, to take this journey through the year and to write down what God speaks to us so that we don't forget and so that we can remember. So, you can check that out in the Daily Audio Bible shop.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There is a link. It’s on the homepage. Thank you, thank you for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And as always, if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253 is the number to dial.

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

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello everybody in the DAB, I‘m Steve from Toulouse in France. I’ve called in in the past and it’s been a wonderful answer to prayer for my daughter who was sick at that time. And I know that you’re praying community has very powerfully praying into the lives of individually…individuals around the world. But my request today is not so much for individuals but for a small community church that we have here in Toulouse. I’d like to pray for my little church, church 31, which is a new church that’s come out of mom’s and tot’s group here in Toulouse. So, please pray for our small community of believers who started this new English-speaking church reaching the international community here in France. This church sprang out of mop’s group around four years ago. Currently we need to __ an old railway station somebody donated at no cost to us by the local town’s mayor man in __ in Toulouse. We would like to ask for the DAB community to pray for us as we seek to move to weekly services that are to serve our community in the near future. In this respect, the two additional services we are looking to offer __ needs to be a cafe church format as there are no pastor. We run our weekly services with volunteers many of whom have full-time day jobs. We have a challenge with practical resources. Please pray for God’s leading and direction as we seek to grow and become a weekly meeting church, for the church to be praying church as we move forward in anticipation of the great things to come, for the church to have His holy anointing. Please pray for volunteers to come forward to help. Please pray for the building to be available each week we will need it. Please pray for…

Hi there this is Tony from Germany and I really wanted to just primarily address Max…Mark Streets prayer request. And Mark, I just wanted to tell you that you are such an inspiration to me when you’re doing your prayers for us, when you confess your sins, whatever it is, when you become vulnerable to us. You are an inspiration to me and I’m very certain you’re an inspiration to many many people here in this group and elsewhere. So, when I think of these persistent temptations that we have, I also think of Paul when he spoke about the thorn in his side. What was it that he had such a hard time getting rid of and the Lord let him, I mean, He let that thorn persist. The Lord allowed it to persist because sometimes in our trials and tribulations and frequently that is where our personal growth comes, that is where we come closer to the Lord, that’s where we become more humble, when we lean on the Lord more. So, I thank you for being open to us with your vulnerability. It encourages others to do the same, to come to this group, to ask for prayers. Yesterday I asked for prayers on DAB friends and woo, just so much of my tribulation was lifted. So, that’s the power of this group. God bless you and everybody else here. I’m also thinking of a lien from Victoria. Where are you? I remember you and prayers. Bye-bye everyone.

Hi family this is his little Sharif from Canada with another creative way to pray from the banqueting table of prayer. I’m excited about this one. Halloween is coming up at the end of this month. So, here’s a unique way to pray to pray for the trick-or-treaters who may come to your door. And there’s lots of ways to do that but how about as well as giving them some candy, giving them a prayer blessing to. This is how I did it last year. I gave each child a handful of candy, but I also had a bowl ready full of little notes that I’d made with a simple blessing on it. Actually, I had two bowls, one for young children and one for older kids. And on the notes, I’d written a word or phrase like courage or wisdom or you are strong, you are awesome, you are creative. And for the young kids I tried to make it really simple, just a word. For the older kids I used more mature language, more phrases. But I tried to make each note true without sounding religious and then I decorated them with doodles and words like I do. And, of course, I prayed over them as I made them, asking God to get the right note to the right kid and to speak to them by His Spirit through these simple prayer notes. Well, I wasn’t sure how my prayer blessings would go over but when the kids came to my door and I gave them some candy I asked, would you like a prayer blessing too? And every one of them seemed happy to choose a note and the parents seemed grateful too. So, I had so much fun. And maybe some of you want to try that this year with the trick-or-treaters that come to your door. So, Halloween notes. Another creative way to pray from the banqueting table of prayer. Thank you, family. Bye for now.

Hello DABalonians. This is Kevin in California. It’s been a while, but I heard Jay from Nashville and New Jersey and I was inspired to pray. So, Jay, I‘m a in the same boat as you. I am estranged from my three precious sons, Levi, Moses and Toccoa. And I’m gonna to pray for you. I’m gonna ask that you pray for me because I greatly desire relationship with my sons and I want reconciliation. I don’t know how that will happen but I have faith that it will and I want to pray for you that God would guide you and direct you on your search to find your ex-wife and your child and. And, so, heavenly Father, heavenly Son, heavenly Spirit, I just lift up Jay in his search for You father and I pray that you’d to help him to find his child Lord. Help him to provide for his child like he wants to do and I ask that you bless this godly desire God and I ask for reconciliation even God with peace between his ex-wife and a renewed relationship with this child. God I ask that You would just be more than he would imagine and I pray the same for myself God. I thank you God that Your angels are watching over the children and I just pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

[divinefishingtips]

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