#because what if Jesus was to stop by we must have our home look so clean that we would be unashamed if jesus stopped

[im2tired4usernames]

I want their fuckin freedom they have no chores no responsibility they can go out with their friends when ever they want for however long they want they can sleep in there bed all day they eat drink drive vehicles use the phone have a home with no bills no expenses they can spend their money on stupid things that bring them joy with no worry of the gas they burned in someone else's vehicle or if there's dinner at home they have no worries about laundry no worries about dishes no worries about the messes they make because they know I'll clean it up always I want to be viewed by my family and by my friends as someone who is an actual person with limits and boundaries and who has goals and dreams they'd like to accomplish in the day besides laundry for 16 people and not a tireless cleaning machine. I want to be able to rest and have hobbies I want to be able to do things with my partner and my friends again I want to be able to fuckin daydream and make up stories again for Christ sake I want to feel like a person and not a corpse forced into playing "tradwife" I want the freedom they all have while I'm in the background doin they're dishes.

[icallhimjoey]

supreme leader, would you ever write a sequel to ‘ground rules’ where our baby with joe is here and it’s just a cutesy dad!joe moment? (also wouldn’t be opposed to some smutty times as well bc i just can’t go past gotta-be-quiet-cause-the-baby’s-sleeping-but-fuck-i-want-you-right-now-new-parent-smut) heart you, as always!!

we're switching gears, everyone! sorry for the whiplash! Wordcount: 3K

---

Only Have Eyes For You

(read Ground Rules here)

Joe has yet to stop staring at her.

It’s either eyes on her, or eyes on you, and even though you’re gorgeous and make his chest swell beyond what he thought his ribs could ever manage, looking at her is different.

New.

“Will you keep an eye on her?”

“Yea, of course I will. Go get some rest, please, baby.”

It’s been over an hour, and he still needs to raise a thumb up to wipe a tear from an inner corner about every thirty seconds. For several reasons, too.

It’s been five hours since you’ve given birth, and both sets of grandparents – grandparents, that sounds so fucking wild – have left evidence of their visit all over the room. There’s balloons, cards, flowers, bags with gifts in for you and for the newborn baby girl and Joe feels like they brought too much and too little. Were there for too long but left too soon. Should’ve been there right after instead of two hours later, but also maybe should’ve come to meet the baby tomorrow instead of today.

He wants to protect and hide this little girl from the world, but also needs everyone to see how gorgeous she is.

Five-hour old baby, fast asleep in her clear plastic bed that’s been placed right next to your hospital bed where you’re asleep even faster.   

He’s got no idea how much sleep he’s gotten over this weekend. Doesn’t care, either. Just knows that he’s staring at perfection no matter which way he turns, and that the small of his lower back aches because he’s been sitting in his chair weird, but this is the only way he can both touch you and see her little face.

Her perfect little face.

Joe’s got a hand around your ankle as you lie passed out in your hospital bed, finally in what seems to be a deeper sleep rather than just a quick nap, and he wishes you could stay like that for at least the next ten hours. He knows it doesn’t work like that with a newborn, and you’re obviously in a hospital which doesn’t help, but God, you deserve to sleep for a fucking lifetime.

Everything that surrounds you looks and sounds normal, so he guesses your blood pressure must be okay, but he keeps his ears pricked, just to be sure.

The birth was a long one. Almost everything you had tried preparing for hadn’t happened in the way you’d expected, which is what everyone kept telling you was going to happen, but it was still frustrating. It did however feel very fitting with how the two of you had even gotten together.

It was a good thing you managed to pull through most of the labour with humour.

Doctors and nurses had started making jokes of you becoming permanent residents when your dilation had halted at six centimeters for ages, and in return, you had started making jokes that they were going to have to start knocking before coming in, because you knew of a way to induce the labour that Joe would feel more comfortable about if he had some privacy.

“No, no, I do not–” Joe had immediately protested the first time you’d cracked the joke, and the lack of laughter coming from him plus your weird eyebrow wiggle had only made the nurses laugh louder.

“Sorry to inform you,” the doctor said in the middle of giving you another check. “But having sex will not cause labour to begin before your body is ready for delivery.”

“It won’t?” You’d acted all heartbroken. Made Joe mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath, because, you were six centimeters dilated for fuck’s sake. Of course he wasn’t going to have sex with you.

“We’re still not in labour, are we?” the doctor said, insinuating that he thought you had probably tried it at home already.

“Ask him how many times we’ve had sex...” you’d challenged immediately, making Joe groan from the corner of the room where he was sort of pacing around, facing the wall more than the room, because there was another man with fingers deep inside of your vagina, talking to you about sex.

“Can we please focus on—” Joe started, equally as embarrassed as he was humoured by you.

“Once.” You answered your own question and gestured at your stomach. “One time! All it took!”

It had become a running joke between the two of you that Joe didn’t think you were going to involve so many other people in. Joe had gotten you pregnant and then hadn’t touched you since.

Not true. There had been plenty of touching. But you were super pregnant when you’d gotten together and it never felt right for Joe to insert parts of himself into parts of you that felt like they belonged to a whole different person for the time being.

Which actually made a lot of sense to you.

It was just unfortunate that hormones had made you super horny for half the pregnancy.

Hence why it had become a running joke.

One that really annoyed Joe. You were lucky that he loved to hear you laugh and to see you smile so much.

When the two of you were left alone again, Joe scolded you through a smile and pressed kisses to your temple, because you were being funny and entertaining even though you’d just gotten bad news. Again.

Joe lovingly touched your stomach, and pressed his cheek to yours as he looked down at it and said, “You’ve made it too nice in there. She doesn’t want to come out.”

“Remember when we were like, let’s do this as friends...” you joked, but Joe could hardly focus on your light tone of voice when you grabbed hold of his bicep with a strong grip.

“Idiots.” Joe commented, finding your hand and covering it with his.

“I think we would’ve been able to do it, but—”

“You think so?”

“Yea. I was very determined. But, this is nicer.” You smiled and made eye-contact with Joe. He was quick with a tissue, to dab at your wet eyes. He’d learnt to be ready for every and any emotion over the past few days; everything and anything could bring you to tears.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” Joe said, smiling too. “I was already sort of head over heels if I’m honest. You were determined for two, I think.”

That had made you burst into actual sobs.

The last hour of giving birth, you’d cried non-stop. A weird silent steady leaking of water from your eyes as you struggled through the delivery. Joe guessed it was the pain – had to be, because, what the fuck was even going on? How the fuck had nature decided that this was meant to be normal? But then finally, when soft baby cries filled the room, one of the nurses said, “You’re there, you’re done. Relax, we’ll take it from here.” He’d realized then that it they were tears of exhaustion over anything else.

You’d been going for hours, and then your blood pressure did something funny after the placenta got removed, so now they wanted to keep you for a bit, which was scary. But going home with a newborn sounded even scarier, if he was honest... so he wasn’t going to complain about how uncomfortable his chair was.

Or how tired he felt.

He’d been going for hours too, but his tired was different from your tired. He could feel it in his bones, sure, but it was easy to keep his eyes open. Easy to keep staring at her. Easy to do jobs whenever someone asked him to do one.

“Mum’s done. Now, dad, come here. Pay attention.” 

And he has not been able to stop paying attention yet. He’s listening to your breathing, paying close attention to the rhythm because you’re the priority after all that’s happened. Yet he can’t keep his eyes off of his baby.

There’s a baby next to your bed.

The one he watched you gave birth to.

Your baby.

His baby.

He thumbs another tear from the corner of his eye before it leaves a wet trail down his face and uses his sleeve to dry both his eyes as he pushes his nose into his elbow for a second, not letting go of your ankle.

Life is ridiculous.

He still feels emotional over seeing you scream and cry, in pain and all sweaty. You’d performed a miracle, but it was no fun to witness how difficult the whole thing was on you. Had he not already convinced you to be with him, he would have started that quest today and would’ve likely never stopped.

When he blinks his eyes back into focus, it’s to you stirring in the white sheets of your hospital bed.

He freezes.

Maybe if he holds his breath and doesn’t make a single noise, you won’t wake up. He’s not sure how easy it’ll be to fall back asleep if you pull from your unconscious state completely. He wasn’t there when it happened – had gotten hauled off to help wash and dress his baby (the tiniest clothes he’d ever seen still too big on her, he was pouring tears as he tried to put the socks on and hated how you weren’t there to see it) – but he was informed that you lost a lot of blood and needed a lot of stitching.

After going through all of that, you’d needed stitching.

Your baby had been taken to get cleaned up, and you’d told Joe to go with her. To watch her. To stay with her and to not lose her out of his sight.

He’d listened.

Knew better than to tell you no.

But then you were left on your own, and you’d needed stitching.

You can’t move without wincing now, and Joe could probably jog home if he really wanted to. How is that fair?

Joe holds his breath, and watches you stretch your spine in your sleep before you relax again.

But then suddenly, your slow movements turn jumpy as you jolt awake with a gasp. It makes Joe jump almost just as much, and he narrowly avoids your knee to his face.

He watches you wince in pain, clearly uncomfortable, but then you immediately sink back into the mattress when your eyes find the clear plastic baby bed that holds your child, and you release a relieved breath.

“My God,” Joe whispers, already humoured by what just happened. “She’s still here, calm down.”

“Sorry,” you croak, curling a hand around the edge of the hard plastic and Joe watches your knuckles go white.

“You okay?” Joe’s already up on his feet, hand on your face to wipe your hair back.

With your eyes still closed and head slumped to the side, you softly answer, “Hmm. My vagina hurts.”

“Yea, of course.” Joe nods, unable to look at you without all the sympathy in the world displayed on his forehead. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

“I need to pee, but I don’t want to. It’s already burning.”

“I’ll go get someone.”

“Please.”

Joe gets a nurse in, and he helps you get out of the bed before you’re helped over to the toilet. Not before you tell Joe to watch her. Watch the baby.

“I’ll keep an eye,” Joe says, because he’s already found it’s his new favourite thing to do. To stare at her. “Go pee.”

The door to the bathroom is left open, and Joe listens to your conversation as he does as he’s told.

It’s a lot of, “Careful, mum. Careful. Slow movements.” coming from her, and a lot of hissing in between your teeth from you. A lot of, “Is this normal?” questions coming from you, and a lot of “If you feel this, it’s probably for this reason, which is totally normal.” answers from the nurse.

Joe gets the room and the fresh new little person all to himself for a second, and he leans all the way over your bed, feet still on the floor, his head resting in both hands as he slowly blinks at what you’ve created together.

He can’t get over how you’ve made this.

Two people have just gone and accidentally made a whole new person... it’s legitimately insane, Joe thinks.

The peeing takes longer than Joe thought it would take. He doesn’t blame you for taking your time, but he hopes that you figure out how to do it without being in pain or needing any help before you get to go home.

Joe hears a shocked gasp coming from you before you softly ask, “That’s a lot of blood. Is that a lot of blood?” followed by a toilet flushing and a reassuring, “Absolutely totally normal. Don’t worry.”

Baby is still asleep. Soundly and so peacefully, small tiny nose doing a perfect job at breathing, Joe’s already so proud of her it’s stupid.

“Well done, mum! First bathroom visit!” the nurse claps her hands together and laughs when you give a sarcastic yay in faux celebration.

You’re miserable, but Joe can hear your smile through everything and it makes his heart swell even more with pride. For you. For urinating. He’s proud because you peed, what the hell.

He shares his first secret smile with his daughter. “Mummy peed!”

You get helped back into your underwear and joggers, and Joe lets his view distract him enough that he almost doesn’t hear what you ask just before you step back into the room.

“Six weeks before sex, right?”

You’re joking, but Joe hears the serious confusion when the nurse asks, “Oh, have you not been talked through—”

“We have. Don’t listen to her.” Joe interrupts, and when he looks over his shoulder to see you shuffle back over to the bed, he catches the cheeky smile you’re trying to hide.

Before he can say anything else about how he’ll have you wait twelve weeks if you keep bringing it up, he catches your eyes flash in pain, just from your small shuffling steps, and he’s up in an instant. Pushes himself from your bed and turns to place both hands under your arms to make sure you’re safe and supported.

You hold onto him like a lifeline and pause in place for a moment.

God, the labour is done. Can you have a single second without any uncomfortable sharp pulling down there? Jesus.

You don’t see how Joe and the nurse share a look over your shoulder. The nurse is smiling at him, and Joe gives her a tired shake of his head as he rolls his eyes, quietly communicating that the girl he’s chosen to have a baby with is an actual menace.

“Maybe eight weeks?” Joe carefully jokes, hoping it’ll get you to laugh and forget about how sore you’re feeling for a second. Instead you just sigh and go, “Yea, maybe.”

You’re helped back into bed by four hands, shuffle slowly into position and leave enough room for Joe to join you.

You’re sore and tired and in a weird emotional state, and it’s simply much nicer to be all of those things squeezed tightly up against him. Joe knows to curl into you with his whole body and lays an arm over your pillow for you to place your head on. It gives the both of you the perfect view of your baby.

Your baby.

You feel a flash of want for her. To have her in your arms. Against your chest. To hold and hug and keep her close. But she’s asleep and you’re not quite sure what to do when she wakes up. What if she cries and you can’t get her to stop? This is safer.

You can both just watch her.

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” the nurse says after checking a file, and you ask, “To help me feed her?”

The nurse smiles, says, “Yea sure, that too.” and leaves.

You make a funny face, confused, and look at Joe like you think she was being rude.

“To check on you.” Joe softly says, and your face drops immediately.

“Oh. Yea. But I feel fine, now.” your focus is barely on yourself. There’s this whole other brand new human to be worried about.

“Hmm. Okay. Think you can sneak a little more sleep before she’s back?”

“Probably not.” you say, but Joe sees how you close your eyes anyway. Feels how you carefully move your hips back a little to feel more of Joe against your body. Feels how you grab onto his arm and firmly press it into your stomach that’s still big and round, but all soft and squishy now.

“Can you try?” Joe whispers, lips touching the shell of your ear.

“Will you watch her?” you’re already sinking away. Joe’s body heat is pulling you under quicker than he’d anticipated.

“Of course I will,” Joe says, but lies, and watches you for a moment instead. You’re his priority. Thinks it’s silly how you wouldn’t accept that if he told you. “I’ll watch her.” he confirms, not lying then, because he’s talking to his daughter as he says it.

Joe watches you until he feels you drop of the deep end. Feels you relax in a way he’s not felt you relax in ages.

After a while Joe repeats, “I’ll watch her.” in a barely-there whisper before he places a barely-there kiss against your cheek as you sleep.

His gaze moves back to the small baby girl in the room, and Joe’s eyes immediately well up again.

It’s stupid how even just the sight of her feels new and unexpected again. Like he’s seeing her for the first time once more.

And he simply finds that, once again, it’s so easy to stare.

Finds he can’t stop staring.

“Yea, I’ll keep an eye,” Joe whispers to himself. Thumbs another tear from his inner corner before it can run down his face and bother you.

“I’ll keep an eye.”

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

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@everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959

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@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[my-prompt-dump]

Wincest/Gencest/Weirdcest

I can't remember if Charlie met Jack but no one here is dead and everyone is sorta friends.

Also was supposed to be a Fem!Sam au but I can always make another post with that version if any of you want!

---------------------------------------------------

Someone screams in the bunker and keeps screaming. It Dean was already up at the first scream and was about to run to whoever was in trouble until the door to his room opened with a bang.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS???"

It was Charlie, holding a... copy of Vogue Magazine? Ugh, Dean is too tired for this. He flops back down to sit in his bed. He's exhausted as fuck but he knows he can't go back to sleep now.

"Jesus, Charlie. I thought someone was dying"

"I wish I was! Cos you just scarred me for life!"

Dean looks at his phone to see that it was still 8 in the morning. Okay, too early.

"Will you two please shut up?" A voice says behind Dean. There buried under their blanket and a mountain of pillows is Sam, birds nest hair and all.

"No! Just- Here! What the shit is this?!"

She shoves the magazine right up to Dean's face and he takes it to see it better.

"Holy shit!"

He feels Sam sit up and position himself to look over his brother's shoulder.

"Oh. They actually did it."

"Man, looks like they weren't full of shit after all. Hey, Sammy, you think we can still get royalties from this?"

Charlie makes an indignant noise. "Huh???"

Dean is still grinning proudly but at least Sam sends an apologetic look her way.

"We were broke." He says like that explains everything. Sam must have seen the doubt in her face because he repeats himself.

"That's literally the whole story, Charlie. We were broke. Chuck didn't include this in the books?"

"NO?? What's the story of this then? Please elaborate for my sanity."

"I would like to know too."

They all turn to the door and see Castiel there, Jack smiling shyly behind him.

Sam and Dean share a look, doing that soulmate annoying silent telephatic talking voodoo whatchumacallit with each other.

Dean stares at the picture again on the page. A picture that takes up the entire spread of the page, followed by an interview with the owners of a booming clothing line.

The picture is him and Sam in their younger years, in a position that will never make people guess they were brothers. They are hugging and wearing clothes too fancy for either of them to ever own. Dean's back is to the camera, but his head is facing right so that his eye is still trained to the lens of the camera; protective and possessive. He's standing in between Sam who was sitting on a table, legs wrapped around his older brother's waist. Sam's arms are around his shoulders, fingers almost clawing his back. His brother's eyes are looking directly at the front; dangerous and equally possessive as Dean's.

Not only that, they were wet and made to look sweaty as fuck so it looks like it's a during-sex kinda shot.

Jeez, how did they agree to that. Not a single thing about this shot was promoting the clothes, you can't even see them properly!

"Alright, but no talking or we're stopping."

They all nod and begin to listen intently.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Flashback to teen Sam (19) and Dean (23) being banned from every bar at an nth mile radius because of constant hustling and brawls but they're almost out of the allowance John gave them.

John told them it'd be enough til he comes back and that they need to leave as soon as he's back so "no need to get a job, Dean".

Dean should've gotten one anyway just in case because even if he went and got one now, they'd be starving before he gets his first paycheck.

Sam was walking home from school one day and spots an ad stapled to a pole.

'Urgent: Looking for models for our clothing line! Not a scam! Inquire at XXX-XXX'

He thinks it over and says fuck it, he is not having junkfood for dinner again.

Arriving home, he slams the poster at the table where Dean was cleaning their guns.

"Fuck!"

Sam pays him no mind and just points at the thing.

"Let's do it."

At first Dean was confused but he sees the ad and raises an eyebrow at his brother.

"One day of our photos being taken and we'll get money enough to last us a week. Come on."

"Don't know what you're thinkin but we are not models, Sammy."

"We're not ugly, Dean."

"Being not ugly doesn't mean we can model, dude."

Dean would marry himself if he could, that is how good looking his brother thinks he is. Sam was relying on Dean's vanity to get him on board but this. This wasn't what he was expecting.

Well.

Desperate times calls for desperate measures.

"What? Lady-killer Dean Winchester is too chicken to be rejected and find out he's not that handsome after all?"

Dean freezes and Sam already knows he won.

Dean's pride is so easy to mess with.

------------

It's a starting clothing business that hopes to be big one day. They didn't want to spend too much money but figured that investing in good quality will get them far.

So when two guys in secondhand clothes from Goodwill came for the modelling job, they were hesitant. But when they were cleaned up by the crew, they look like proper models. Handsome, beautiful, pretty, fit, TALL.

Brothers they say but there's an air around them that they can use to say otherwise.

They dressed them up, did their make up, gave them a wet look for the final set and they were done.

Their first promotional poster was born.

Sam and Dean went home with a month's worth of cash and the company was left breathless.

It took them a while to get an audience to see them but it was that photo that blew the growing internet up and put them in the spotlight.

They have it framed in the middle of their new big ass studio like a trophy.

Years later, when they were reached out to by Vogue (VOGUE!!) for an interview about their journey, they knew what photo to use as a centrepiece for their page.

[mrghostrat]

i was hoping to stream this afternoon but i woke with my shoulders hurting so bad that i have absolutely zero capacity for anything. to the point where i experienced my first autistic rumbles in the supermarket 🥸 but i have adhd meds now so maybe we can try tomorrow.

zita's suspected i'm on the spectrum for a little while now, but i've always been on the fence about it. there's a lot i don't relate to. but most of that is bc i have so much learned behaviour, and i mask really well. when i try to break down how i think for autism diagnostic quizzes, my gut reactions DO fit the bill, but they are so so so buried under 30 years of life experience that feels like it comes naturally.

but i am an introvert. an extreme introvert. even while living alone with my best friend, who i get on perfectly with and feel zero need to mask around, i still need to excuse myself and be left alone in my room from 10pm at LEAST.

so i only really unmask when i'm dead alone. even though i dont feel like i'm putting up any kind of front around of zita, i still do, automatically. the only time i see myself completely bare is when i'm alone and it's silent and there is absolutely nothing challenging my comfort.

sooooo hoooooo boy waking up in pain, with zero capacity to even finish a thought, still empty of ADHD medication because of the fuckin manufacturing shortage (thankfully today's trip into town was to finally pick some up! but that wasn't until noon), i got to see a side of myself i don't know if i've ever actually seen before? maybe as a kid but i can't remember specifically that far back?

i've been short tempered and overwhelmed and exposed to sensory nightmares whilst home alone before, but it's usually so quick bc i'm at HOME and i can adjust the situation and i never think much of it. i felt like a bluescreen at that supermarket today, popping in for less than 10 things across 3 aisles.

it was so busy. there were so many people. i felt dread just to walk through it, so aware of my own body and the space i had to inhabit. but par for the course so far. what was less par for the course was having to stop and look at my list every 3 steps, unable to put together a course of action in my head: chicken is on the far left, so we grab that first and get broccoli on our way to the soup aisle. but the broccoli is right there. do i grab that first, go get the chicken, but then double back from where i just came? i might get myself some bananas too, how do i fit that into my path—

i had to keep stopping and looking at my list because every item i thought of made me forget the previous one i just looked at. eventually got fed up with myself and went to the closest thing and started there, regardless of whether i'd have to double back or not. that's what trips me when i take these quizzes n shit. i can get over the hump and do the task in the end, so that must mean i'm totally allistic! no autism here.

i remember thinking "jesus christ this is bad" when i was on my way to get zita's soup (if you've read this far, thank you and kisses to you, pls send some loving vibes to zita by reading her fic i just reblogged, bc she's got a cold and is miserable today) so i was kinda aware i was having a bad sensory day. as expected: there were a lot of people there, and i was in pain. but i just short circuited looking at soup. zita gave me the brand name and soup type of 3 cans she wanted. and i went to the aisle i've been to a thousand times, found the brand, and just stared. it was all stew. all chunky brothy things with bits in. not a single creamy soup in sight, so, the soup must be somewhere else.

i came to that conclusion immediately but i couldn't. process it? or like, what to do with that information. the soup is somewhere else. OR IS IT? keep looking at this shelf to make sure, your eyes are tired, you might've missed it. there's like 20 different cans of campbells here, just keep reading them left to right until soup appears. still no soup? read them again, you might've missed it. maybe campbell's is out of soup? read every other brand here until you Don't see soup, then you can walk away and try somewhere else. but if you don't see any soup, read it again because you might've missed it.

thankfully it took all of 30 fuckin seconds for a store employee who was shelving next to me to see my glazed fuckin stare and ask if i needed a hand with anything. and i stammered through some "haha my silly eyes today!! haha thanks! sorry, thank you!" as she happily pointed like 3 metres down the aisle for me, while my internal monologue immediately raged like "wtf why would they put the soup that far away but also barely far away at all, what's the point, bad design 😡"

got soup. check list: packet of gravy. zita told me the gravy was in the same section as the soup. it was not. i walked up and down that aisle five times and there was no gravy. i just. i had completely forgotten how to problem solve. it was the strangest, most frustrating experience. like i was looking at an empty word document in my brain, with a little flashing cursor and everything, so i knew it hadn't frozen over. it was just empty.

i even had the thought "just walk up and down the aisles until you find gravy; you have to do this all the time" and even had ideas of which aisles to start with. but my brain said no. we're not going to walk around aimlessly, even if we have a neat little structure and path to follow. we were told (by myself, too) this would be a quick in out trip, pluck the known items off the shelf and beeline straight for the checkout. so meandering down aisles was for some reason non negotiable. i wasn't in a rush. i had nothing to do today. i barely even felt a rush to get out of there, as busy as it was. it just wasn't an option.

so rather than start solving that problem i just jumped to the next thing on the list. strepsils. text to ask what kind she wants, have a whine about my broken brain, ask if she knows where the gravy is. remember when i pass the hair brushes that i broke my hairbrush this morning and need a new one!! oh and i've been wanting new hairclips too. look at me picking a new hairbrush and poking through the hairclips for one that i know will feel comfortable against my scalp, i'm not autistic because i can change my plans and make decisions on the fly.

oops didn't mean for this post to be an entire play by play of my thoughts through this extremely bland grocery shop. i cannot believe how long i stood there choosing soup. the line at the self checkout was so long and i felt the dread kick up again. barely/silently whispered "oh god" to myself when i realised the line, but repeated it about 20 times to feel the tap of my tongue against the roof of my mouth before i realised i was doing it. stop that, don't mutter to yourself. but i'm standing still in a line and there's nothing left to (ineffectually) problem solve, so the second i stop i notice a weird little slice in the plastic around the trolley handle that i can't stop flicking my thumbnail against.

OK. we need to stim. heard, chef. just click your piercing ffs. your mouth might look weird when you do it but at least everyone can see you're just clicking your teeth against your piercing, rather than talking to yourself or damaging public property.

something made a noise, can't even remember if it was a child or a trolley or what, some loud sharp single high pitched screech a few metres away, and i jolted so hard i thought i felt like i was going to throw up. finally think, fucking hell i'm autistic today. my back hurts. which is making my head hurt. i want to go home and take my vyvanse.

[storiesaplenty]

Bridgerton: Christmas 2024

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: none. Just fluff

WC: 904

©️ storiesaplenty 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

"You are the most annoying man I have ever met Benedict Bridgerton." I said to him as I walked past him after I slammed the door closed behind me.

"That isn't very lady like, now is?" He leaned against the wall, smirking as he watched me take off my winter jacket.

"Because of you, we missed the final carriage to church, and now there is too much snow for us to walk in."

"Are you seriously that upset about us missing church? They do the same play every year." Benedict said, as he sat down in my favourite chair.

"Yes, because Penelope's son was playing the baby Jesus, and I told her I would be there. But because you insisted we talk just as we were to leave, the last carriage went off without us."

"How was I supposed to know that they wouldn't wait?" He asked me as I sat down across from him.

"What did you need anyways?" I asked him.

Benedict and I have never gotten along. Even as children, when I first met him after my cousins moved in across him and his family.

For some reason, he has always got on my nerves.

"And us being alone together, with no chaperone is going to deter any potential suitors." I didn't see the way how his jaw ticked at that.

"I won't tell anyone that we were left alone together. I will leave once I tell you why I came."

I looked outside as I heard the wind pick up and saw that there was even more snow.

"Even though you live across the way, I can not allow you to leave. It is much to dangerous. The snow was almost up to my waist. You can wait it out."

"Thank you. To answer your first question, I came here to put aside our differences for the holiday season."

"Did your mother put you up to this?" I knew how Violet was.

"That is besides the point. We are both adults, it is time we start acting like it." Benedict said, his voice sounding tense.

"Fine, I will agree to this truce. Maybe this will give me a chance to find myself a husband."

I grabbed a shawl and put it around my shoulders, as I am feeling a bit cold.

The wind was blowing furiously outside, and the fire was warm, but the cold seemed to be getting in.

"I have never stopped you from finding a husband." Benedict said, looking away.

"Really? I saw you at the Berring Ball. Any eligible man who signed my dance card, somehow ended up not being available. I was humiliated." I refused to cry in front of him as I stood up and walked to the window.

The room was silent as I watched the snow come down.

I could barely make out thr Bridgerton home across the way.

Maybe I should ask him to leave. See if he actually makes it home or hear about if he froze to death or not.

I heard his footsteps until he was beside me. Benedict was facing me as I continued to stare outside.

"You are right."

"Did the Benedict Bridgerton actually admit I was right?" My snapped at him as he huffed and cleared his throat.

"Before we kill one another, I must confess that I have always liked you."

"You must be joking?" I asked him as I turned to face him, and at that moment I realized how close he was standing to me.

"Why would I joke about this?" He seemed hurt, which tugged at my heart.

"From the day I met you, you have been nothing but rude to me. All I did was visit my cousins, and Penelope was so excited to introduce me to Eloise, but then you tripped me."

"That was by accident. " He defended.

"You could of helped me up, but you just stared at me."

"I didn't help you because I was enthralled by your beauty. That night, I drew you."

"Some way of showing you liked me Benedict. You picked on me each and every time I came here."

"I didn't know how to show you my feelings. I still don't, so I tell those men that you have been spoken for, because to me, you are."

"While you trope all over the ton, women and men falling over themselves. I am left alone, getting older each season until I will be considered no longer eligible." I am now poking his chest with my finger. The pokes getting harder and harder each time.

"Then marry me!" He exclaimed.

"Pardon me?" I looked him up and down.

"Marry me. I truly came over here, wanting to properly ask you to court."

"But Benedict, all we do is fight."

"We fight because we hide our true feelings for one another."

"I would like for us to properly court. No need for another fast wedding between our two families." I said.

"I agree. Now, may I please kiss you?"

I could only nod before he cupped my face and gently kissed my lips.

My first kiss with the man who has driven me insane since we were children.

The same man who I knew I loved, but always pushed my feelings aside, not wanting to be hurt by him.

As he and I kissed, the snow storm started to let up, only soft, fluffy snowflakes falling.

Lord Alfred Debling

[avaetin]

This has taken over my life---

@haiseiscute333

“Welcome to the Oscars, live from the red carpet from the Dolby Theater in Los Angeles! I'm your host, Kayla Knowles, and for the next hour, we're going to be talking to the many nominees and presenters of this show-...”

“-....As we prepare to welcome our first guest, remember to breathe it all in, because tonight, we are part of something truly special. Tonight, we gather to celebrate the magic of the silver screen and the small screen, where dreams come true and where Hollywood truly shines.

So, without further ado, let the Oscars begin!”

…

…

…

“- Let’s just take you down the red carpet. As you can see, we have America’s all-time male sweetheart, Percy Jackson, in his black tux, looking good. You can see people yelling, trying to make eye contact with him. With him is America's sweetheart, Annabeth Chase, looking absolutely beautiful in her sparkling silver Gucci gown!”

—-

Comment section from the live video:

Perc4beth4evr: OMG! My parents are finally here! They look so gorgeous together! The perfect golden couple! ❤️❤️❤️ THEDaughter: Took them long enough to come out as a couple! We all knew he was dating her for two years now. ImOfficial: ❤️❤️❤️ BitterDingy: ❤️❤️❤️ HonesToxic: You're all delulus. They don't even look in love. I'm pretty sure he was with someone else. Perc4beth4vr: YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

—-

…

…

“Thank you, Alabaster. Hope you have a wonderful time inside as well-! Ah! Over there! It's the industry's charming darling, Nico di Angelo! Oh, he certainly lives up to his name - he looks so dashing and adorable in his white designer tuxedo!”

—-

Comment section from the live video: NDAPS: IM JUST A BABY— 😍😍😍 NicosAngel: NICOOOOOO! BABY BOY ASDFGHJKL Cat-astrophe: I HAVE LEGAL ADOPTION PAPERS PLS COME HOME WIV ME NOW Shituation: Everyday, I wake up just to see his gorgeous face 😫

—-

“Wait. Is that… Did Nico di Angelo bring a partner with him this year?”

—-

Comment section from the live video: NDAPS: HOLD UP. WAITWAITWAIT OUR MEOW MEOW BRING A WHAT NOW??? NicoApologist: Our baby grew up so fast 😭 NicosAngel: NOOOOOOOO!!! WHO DARES CORRUPT MY ANGEL?!?!

—-

“Oh my! Nico di Angelo did bring a partner to this year's event, and-! No. Nonononono. This can't be real. Who has the right to look THAT gorgeous? The press is going crazy over them, look at all those flashing lights! They're clearly wearing matching tuxedos as well! Is this Nico's mystery partner?”

—-

Comment section from the live video: NDAPS: HOLY JESUS CHRIST ON A MOTORBIKE! I MUST HAVE ASCENDED TO HEAVEN! IM SEEING AN ANGEL AND A GOD AT THE SAME TIME— Perc4beth4vr: Doesn't that guy look like Percy? Sorrynotsorry: Not everything's about Jackson. Clearly that guy looks way better. NicosAngel: I apologize for what I said. Please corrupt my angel, Mr. Greek God. For you, I'll make an exception. MY ANGEL IS SMILING SO MUCH RIGHT NOW I HAVEN'T SEEN HIM THIS HAPPY 😭😭😭 THEY LOOK LIKE THE PERFECT COUPLE, I DEMAND WEDDING INVITATIONS ASAP 🤧🤧🤧 excuseyou: Did Percy stop at the end of the carpet or was it just me who noticed? troll.on.a.roll: Kayla is us right now. She's fangirling over Nico just as hard as everyone else lol

—-

Kayla: Nico! Wow, you look drop-dead gorgeous! How are you feeling this evening? (hugs him)

Nico: Kayla! You look stunning as well. (hugs her back) I'm doing great! The best, actually.

Kayla: Oh, is it because of your mystery partner? (smiling playfully before turning towards the other male) Are we going to know his name tonight, or are the netizens going to have to do their thorough investigations?

Nico: (laughs) As fun as that is… Let me introduce to everyone, Aeon Oceanus. My fiance. (lifts one of his hands to show off a silver diamond-studded ring)

—-

Comment section from the live video: … … … … NDAPS: Did he say fiance? narrowcrepe: !!! NicosAngel: YUUUUUUS! I CALLED IT! I DEMAND AN INVITATION! FRONT ROW! ILL EVEN BE THE CARPET YOU WALK DOWN ON JUST SO I CAN SEE YOU GET MARRIED- excuseyou: Percy looks constipated hmm… Sorrynotsorry: NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT THAT TALENTLESS NEWBIE 🙄 Dundundun: But for real! I sense drama. Like, this guy really looks a lot like Jackson. I won't be surprised if they're related.

—-

Kayla: M-Marriage? Wow! That's amazing! No wonder you're glowing tonight. It must be love.

Nico: Ah, well, it's also my first time bringing a partner to an awarding ceremony. It feels amazing, knowing that from today onwards, I have no need to hide my relationship with my partner.

—- Comment section from the live video: excuseyou: Definitely constipated. Sorrynotsorry: Someone kick this Percy-stan out. —-

Kayla: And how about you… Mr. Oceanus?

Aeon: Aeon’s fine.

Kayla: How are you feeling tonight?

Aeon: I feel like I’m on cloud nine (smiles warmly). Having the love of my life acknowledge our relationship publicly, and having the public know that I am his as much as he’s mine… (pulls Nico close to press a kiss to his forehead) Perfect. Everything’s perfect.

—-

Comment section from the live video: NDAPS: HE SAID THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE OMG!!! EAT THAT PERCABETH SHIPPERS, YOU CAN HAVE YOUR GOLDEN COUPLE, WE HAVE OUR PLATINUM COUPLE! NicosAngel: 😭🥳😭🥳😭🥳😭 Perc4beth4evr: !!! Shituation: The way Nico closed his eyes, and his lips curling to the softest of smiles when Aeon pulled him close and kissed his forehead--- Dear God, I have a new reason to wake up everyday

—-

Kayla: That’s wonderful! All right, I won’t keep you guys any longer. I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening. And Nico, all the best for the awarding!

Kayla: (whispers, but microphone catches it) And all the best for your wedding.

Nico: (laughs) Thanks, Kayla. (walks into the event with Aeon, hand-in-hand)

[steddio]

steddie vegas au part 2

part 1

--

Eddie throws open the delightfully ridiculous double doors separating his hotel suite’s foyer from the main living area. “Honey, I’m home!” he hollers, cackling when he hears Chrissy scream. 

She storms out of her bedroom, scowling at him. “Jesus, Eddie you scared me! I thought you were napping, where did you go?” He can’t help but feel a little guilty at that, hearing the worry underneath her anger. As his manager, and his best friend, worrying is kind of her job. And Eddie doesn’t exactly make it easy. He grabs her by the waist, spins her about the room, ignoring her protests until they turn into laughter.

“I was just down in the lobby,” he tells her a little sheepishly. “I wanted to stretch my legs, look around our new digs.” He can see her eyebrows raise, and adds, “And no, before you say anything, I did not go near the bar.” 

Before Chrissy can feel guilty about her unspoken assumption, he barrels on, “the concierge gave me this list of AA meetings.” He brandishes the paper at her proudly.

“Is this one tonight,” she asks, smiling softly at him. “The highlighted one?”

He grins. “Yep. Steve highlighted it for me.”

“Steve?” Chrissy looks confused. “Oh! Is that the hot concierge you were staring at when we checked in? Is that why you went down to the lobby alone? Jesus, Eddie, you can’t hit on the hotel staff while they’re working.”  

He grabs the paper back from her. “I didn’t!” At her raised eyebrows he concedes, “Okay, I did flirt a little. But only a little! He was really sweet though, he offered to walk me to the meeting.” 

Chrissy just rolls her eyes and hands him the paper. He takes his time folding it, putting it in the back pocket of his jeans, feeling her eyes on him. Eddie knows what her weighted gaze means. She looks at him like she’s constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s why they’re in Vegas. Because that shoe did drop, two months ago. But he’s turning over a new leaf. This is going to be his year! 

He must have gotten lost in thought because he startles when Chrissy touches his arm. “I’m glad you’re going to meetings again, Didi,” she tells him. The old nickname tugs at his heart, and he’s so overwhelmingly grateful for her. He pulls her into a hug, burying his face in her hair. 

“Me, too,” he tells her. They stand like that for a long moment before she pulls away, wiping at her eyes. “Enough of that mushy stuff,” she says brusquely. “We’re scheduled for a venue tour at 5:30 and then I want to try that noodle place.”

–

The venue is… a venue. Eddie can’t complain, because it’s a good gig, even if a residency at Caesars Palace isn’t exactly metal. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s looking forward to the stability. To having a routine. Performing on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Meeting with his therapist Sharon on the days in between. Attending daily AA meetings. Hanging out with Chrissy and playing D&D with the guys. Catching up on all the movies and TV he missed over years of non-stop touring. Being on the road lost its appeal after their last tour and the fallout, his wanderlust having transformed into a sort of homesickness, sunk deep into his ribs.

He steals one of Chrissy’s dumplings, and shovels it whole in his mouth, shrugging when she glares at him. The food is delicious, a major point in Vegas’s favor. But he can barely enjoy it. His heart is thrumming in anticipation for tonight. Not for the meeting; once you’ve been to one you’ve been to them all, and Eddie has been a regular fixture at AA for the last decade. But to see Steve again. 

Eddie knows it’s reckless of him to succumb to that part of himself that just won’t leave things alone. That has to push and push and push to see who or what will break first. But he wants to get inside Steve’s skin, to further crack that professional facade and see what’s underneath. The glimpses he’d gotten–when Steve was on the phone, and when he’d blushed oh so prettily at just the slightest bit of flirting–left him intrigued, edging what he started as harmless flirting into the possibility for something… more. Something real. Something different from nameless groupies and wannabe-influencers. 

Steve hadn’t even recognized him! Eddie can’t remember the last time someone had asked him his name. And sure, he knows it’s bad form to flirt with people at work, but he technically works at the hotel too. Hell, he needs something to occupy his time for the next six months or he’s going to go stir crazy. And he’s a sucker for All-American-looking men who he could absolutely ruin. Or let ruin him, he’s flexible.

He and Chrissy wrap up their meal in the comfortable silence of old friends. Eddie is beyond grateful for this modicum of domesticity within his very non-traditional lifestyle. He flags the waiter down for the bill, signing it to his room with a flourish. Gets up and takes Chrissy’s hand, kissing the back of it with a bow and a wink, and saunters back to the lobby. 

–

Steve is hiding behind the concierge desk, crouched down near the floor so nobody can see him almost losing it over pictures of his baby girl all grown up and going to homecoming. Nancy had sent him the photos, most of which depict a disgruntled Max and an overjoyed Lucas, but there’s one that’s blurry and candid that catches Max looking over her shoulder as she follows Lucas out the front door, hand raised in a wave, grinning on the cusp of laughter. It sends a pang through Steve’s heart, equal parts fondness and regret that he’s so far away. He knows it’s better this way, that he needed to leave Indiana and its small-mindedness, the ugly rumors that just wouldn’t stop circulating. But he misses her. Misses them both.

He’s startled back into reality by the godforsaken bell on his desk, which someone is pummeling like an Xbox controller. He smooths his hair back and does his best to stand gracefully and not at all like someone who was hiding on the floor. 

“Hello, how can I - oh. It’s you.” Mr. Munson, no, Eddie, is leaning on the counter twirling a strand of hair in his fingers looking absolutely delighted to have caught Steve off guard. 

Steve recovers quickly. “Hello, sir, are you ready to go?” His stomach swoops at that, and he tries to ignore it. Calling men sir is perfectly innocuous, it’s his job. 

Eddie’s grin turns almost predatory. “Sure thing, Steve-o. Lead the way.”

Steve grabs his keys and pulls his jacket on, puts the “Be right back” sign on the concierge desk, and steps out next to Eddie. They walk together to the front entrance, Steve pausing to fist bump Argyle the doorman, who not-so-subtly waggles his eyebrows at Steve and Eddie together. Steve pointedly glances at the retreating figure of the bellhop Jonathan and Steve knows he’s won this silent battle of wills as Argyle blushes and nods. He gives him a thumbs up and then steps out into the brisk evening air. 

Leaving the air-conditioned and perfumed artificiality of the casino lobby is Steve’s favorite part of the day. The Las Vegas Strip may be smoggy and congested and honestly kind of gross, but outside is always better than inside in Steve’s opinion. He takes a deep breath before walking down the sidewalk. It takes a moment before he realizes that Eddie is not, in fact, walking beside him, but has stopped several paces back and is staring, brow furrowed, at a huge billboard outside the casino.

Steve walks back toward him until he can see what has Eddie looking so disgruntled. There, filling up almost the entire billboard, is an enormous photo of Eddie. Wearing eyeliner and leather and gripping a microphone with ringed fingers, eyes half-lidded and mouth parted. He looks larger than life, dripping sex appeal. Above him in bold letters reads, “Corroded Coffin, with Eddie Munson, October 1 - April 30, Caesars Palace.” 

Steve feels his jaw drop. “Holy shit. Is that you?”

Eddie looks almost sad for a moment, before he runs a hand through his hair and puts on his signature smirk. “Sure is, sugar. Your resident musical guest for the next six months, at your service.” He accompanies this last part with a mocking bow. 

Steve does what he always does when he’s out of his element: falls back into professionalism. “My deepest apologies, Mr. Munson, I should have recognized you earlier.” He feels doubly awkward now for his over-familiarity in offering to walk Eddie to the AA meeting. Surely a rockstar doesn’t need some dorky dad hovering over him all evening.

Eddie frowns at the formality. “Please, it’s just Eddie.” Strangely serious, he adds, “shall we continue? I don’t want to be late.” He strides away, and Steve has no choice but to hurry after him.

Once he catches up, Steve feels somewhat chastised for his moment of panic. After all, if Eddie is in residency through April, they might end up seeing a lot of each other, and it’s in both of their best interests to be on good terms. 

“So, welcome to Vegas, then,” Steve offers with a small smile, which Eddie returns, mood immediately lifting. 

“Thanks, man. I mean, I’ve been here before, what self-respecting musician hasn’t, but this is the first time I’ll be playing in one place for so long. It was Chrissy’s idea, Chrissy’s my manager, but I think she was onto something because this hotel is super cool and I’ve heard Vegas has a good vibe, and honestly I’m kind of excited to not be on tour for a while, and oh fuck. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Steve is torn between genuine interest and amusement. He feels like he could listen to Eddie talk for hours, watching him gesture wildly, face expressive. 

“Vegas does have a good vibe,” Steve admits. “If you can get past the whole Vegas-ness of it.” 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Vegas-ness?”

Steve tries to explain. “Well, when most people think of Vegas they think of the strip. But there’s a lot more here. There’s great food, an arts scene, and really great hiking and mountain biking.”

Eddie’s nose scrunches at hiking. “I knew you’d be the outdoorsy type, Steve-o, with shoulders like that.” 

Steve tries and fails not to blush, instead motioning that they should turn at the end of the block. They walk a few more blocks in silence before Eddie reaches out and grabs his arm. Steve turns to him, and waits patiently while Eddie seems to struggle for words.

“Thank you,” he says softly. “For walking with me. But, I’d appreciate it if, well…” He trails off.

Steve does his best to reassure him. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me, sir. Concierge, remember? We value our guests’ privacy.” This seems to land wrong, and Steve can’t quite figure out what he said, but Eddie nods quickly, and keeps walking. 

They make it to the church and pause on the sidewalk for a moment. Steve breaks the silence first. “Will you be able to find your way back?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “I think I’ll manage.” Steve wants so badly to reach out and touch Eddie’s arm, to tell him that he would keep Eddie’s secret even if it wasn’t his job, that he feels honored by the trust, but he holds back, unsure of whether that would make the new awkwardness between them better or worse. 

Eddie salutes him with a wink and disappears into the church. Steve walks back to Caesars slowly, pondering everything he’s learned. He feels like he’s been put through the tumble dryer, thrown right and left and up and down by Eddie’s mercurial moods. He tries to shake it off, to finish his shift, but as he drives home after work he finds himself replaying their conversations, and as he lays in bed trying to fall asleep, he can’t stop thinking about Eddie calling him sugar. 

–

The AA meeting runs like any other. Eddie is distracted, but he participates when it’s his turn, drinks the shitty coffee, shakes the hand of a few guys who recognize him. He makes his way back to the hotel where Chrissy is waiting up for him, curled in an armchair reading. 

“How did it go?” she asks. And he knows she’s not just asking him about the meeting, but about all of it. Being in a new place, his flirting with Steve.

“I saw the billboard,” he tells her. “So did Steve.”

“Eddie, we talked about this, the casino is in charge of marketing. What did you expect?” 

He can tell she’s exasperated, but he’s spiraling slightly. “I just–. He didn’t recognize me, Chrissy! Do you know how rare that is? He asked me what my name was.” Chrissy already has that patented sympathetic look on her face, but he keeps going. “For a grand total of four hours, I was just another hotel guest. I was Eddie, even. But now I’m back to Mr. Munson, to sir,” he sneers, “and not even in the fun way!” 

Chrissy is biting back a smile, but she gets up and wraps him in a hug. “You’re still Eddie,” she hushes. “Give it time to settle, people are always a little starstruck at first. Plus this is what happens when you flirt with people at work. They’re, you know, working.”

Eddie pulls away and snaps his fingers. “That’s it!” He’s already formulating a plan. A campaign, if you will. “I just have to change his mindset. Get him to think of me as a coworker and not a guest.” 

Chrissy opens her mouth as if to respond, but Eddie puts his index finger over her lips to shush her. “It will work,” he grins. “This will be fun. Chrissy, you saw how cute he is! Let me have this.” 

And suddenly it’s serious between them. “I think I need this.” 

She grabs his wrist gently, pulls his hand away from her mouth and pats the back of it, an unspoken agreement. God, he really needs this.

--

continue to part 3.

read on ao3.

--

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[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 9/28+9/29

What am I feeling today?

Tired and overwhelmed. My laptop stopped working yesterday and I wasn’t able to get any work done at all and also I came home past 1 am this morning and I’m just so burnt out. Also disappointed in myself, as I stated earlier, I can feel myself slipping in regards to getting to attached to the guy I like. I spent some time in prayer over it this morning and then when I checked my phone I had gotten a notification from him (we rarely communicate outside of church) so now I’m like dang is Satan really trying to get me or do I see it as something will probably happen. I’m lost and I don’t want him on my mind so often when my number 1 priority needs to be God!

So tired. Our washer kinda flooded and we stayed up till midnight trying to get all the water out and cleaning. I’m also just feeling down, I just don’t want to leave my house but I know that I should go to church. I just need to spend some time with God.

Bible Study: Idols of the Heart

We have seen that idolatry is a heart issue. People abandon God’s ways and do things their way as they become wise in their own eyes. Look at Adam and Eve. Eve did not want to go to God for wisdom and knowledge. She wanted it independent of God, the fount of all wisdom. Eve desired the fruit more than God.

Idols of the heart are very deceptive because we can sometimes justify our actions by weaponizing scripture. Example: When we sin, we can minimize our behaviour by saying, "God is loving, He is forgiving, He is gracious. He does not condemn. He wants the best for me." We take scripture out of context and its overarching principles to suit our ends.

At the root of idolatry is a lack of trust in God’s goodness and that He will always give us good things, even when the wait is long.

Religion, too, can be an idol when we seek the gifts, ministry, position, more than Jesus.

AREAS OF IDOLATRY

Let us look at some broad categories of idols of the heart. Here is one:

PLEASURE /FEEL GOOD

We live in a feeling-driven world. If it feels good, it must be right. The feel-good idol wants a life of pleasure at all costs. This person is feeling driven and does not walk led by the Spirit. Their lives are ruled by wrong and undisciplined feelings that dictate to them in ways you cannot imagine, and they call it freedom! Freedom is not permission to do your own thing; rather, it is freedom from inner compulsions.

The feel-good idol will also make you do anything to numb the pain and seek pleasure. You can’t always feel good, yet you want to show that you are in this constant state of happiness. Just take a look at people’s Instagram posts and reels if you think this is not true. The need to project that all is well all the time causes you to live in deception and creates a false impression.

This idol also says, “Do not disturb my life, my doctrine, my comfort level."

REFLECTIONS

Have you ever wrongly used scripture to justify your behaviour or choices?

I’d assume in the past I must have but I can’t think of anything from the present when I have done that.

Do you identify with the above broad categories of idols of the heart?

I can. I don’t think I go after it at all costs (I used to) but I’ve learned a lot more and I’ve grown more to try and set limits for myself. However, I can still very easily be swayed by my emotions and desires and I wish (and pray for) a lot more self control🙏🏼

Is there anyone you can talk to about them?

Yes! My discipler. She’s been very helpful and although she says I’ve been doing a good job, that she’ll seek advice to see if there’s anything else that I can be doing to guard my heart. I can also talk to some of my other girl friends from church, I know some of them struggle with the same thing as me but it’s always great to have multiple advisors.

‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭17‬:‭9‬-‭10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it? “I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind, to reward each person according to their conduct, according to what their deeds deserve.””

Our emotions do not dictate the truth that is God. The way we react isn’t the truth. Our hearts can feel so many different ways at different times. I know there have definitely been instances where my heart has deceived me. Now, I’m not saying that emotions are a bad thing or you shouldn’t feel, but just be mindful of what they are and where they’re coming from because you don’t want to be ruled by it. You want your life to be ruled by God.

Second, God searches our hearts and examines our minds, He knows us completely. We may be able to fool and deceive people, but God knows. So what’s the point of hiding certain things if they’ll come to light before Him? He knows what we deserve and He’ll be sure to give it to us.

‭‭James‬ ‭1‬:‭13‬-‭15‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.”

That part! God cannot tempt you! Temptation does not come from God!

Instead we’re tempted by our own evil desire. I know that I can desire things that at this time in my life, I shouldn’t. Sometimes, my mind goes to intimacy and although that’s not a sin in the confines of marriage, I’m not a married woman, and therefore have no business thinking such thoughts. Again, desire gives birth to sin and sin leads to death!

TITUS 2:11-14 NIV

“For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.”

The grace of God, salvation, teaches us to say “no”! We must say no to ungodliness and worldly passions! God wants us to have self control, to be upright and godly! We should be eager to do what is right!

Practical: This will be difficult for me to deny myself but I should keep practicing self control. I’m not going to seek out the guy I like. If we do speak, I should make sure we aren’t alone. Also, that we’re not spending too much time with each other. I just need to keep these feelings and desires at bay because I don’t want it to reach a point where it overtakes me🙏🏼

[slashingdisneypasta]

Jim Bickerman (?) x Fem!Reader (Feat. Wayne Jackson) || Drabble

Question mark is there because Jim is not actually present. Wayne is very much present, though.

Plot: Imagine being kidnapped by your problematic boyfriend's psychotic gangster cousins and also his identical twin.

Warnings: Kidnapping, use of chloroform, restraining, Lyle, etc.

Tagging: @marinerainbow , @masqueradeball and @slxsherwriter . Hope you guys like this one! This one's kinda fun XD

You had not stepped 5 feet into your own home until someone grabbed you from behind, muffling your gasp and shriek with their hand. Cotton from his fingerless glove rubs against your face when you struggle, wriggling and attempting to throw him off- but he's too strong, and besides, as soon as you see Lyle--

You know there's no point, anyway.

Breathless, you watch him come out of your kitchen with a cup of coffee still steaming (One of your favourite mugs. You're going to have to chuck it, now that he's touched it.). A terrible glower rolls over your features and you grit your teeth, managing to wrench the hand off of your mouth. " -What do you want??"

... Lyle just takes a sip of his hot coffee, leaving you hanging like he can't be bothered to speak to you. You want so badly to kick him-

Norman and Wayne come out next, and your glare just worsens. Fuck. With a turn of your head, you get a visual of Dale being the one holding you still, see him avoid your eye, and think about biting his hand.

"Sorry about this, Y/N. Honestly, this isn't about you." Norman really does look like he might feel a little bit guilty, but just because he has half a conscience doesn't mean much when he still does anything his fucking brother tells him to. Fucking brothers in this family; jesus christ.

"What. Do. You. Want?" You repeat, zeroing in on Norman. Answer or so help me-

"She's firey." Lyle chuckles into his coffee, dead-eyes laving over you like he has every right to. "I like that in a woman."

Wayne gives a short, clipped chuckle looking down at his feet, and you actually feel a traiterous twinge of betrayal. He has never been on your side; just because he looks like Jim doesn't mean he's anything like him. You know that.

Norman sighs. "We just need some help from our cousin."

Your gaze flickers sharply to Wayne again, thinking. You know they don't mean him... But Jim has never done anything for them- he doesn't want to. It's not really for the sake of any moral code... more because unlike fucking Wayne, he doesn't quite love the idea of taking orders from his younger cousins. Or anyone for that matter. He barely listens to you; mostly you have to bribe him.

So- there's only one reason they'd be here, with you.

Is there a jar poking out of Wayne's pocket?

You look to Norman again. "You're not serious."

"I- "

"Bait!?"

Norman looks tired; hair greasy, eyes dark, and skin pasty. "Y/N, come on, we're probably not gonna hurt y- "

"Oh that's very reassuring." You hiss, wrenching your body once and elbowing Dale in the gut. The bastard still doesn't let go. Shit-

Lyle rolls his eyes, bored, and shifts his weight slightly Wayne's way. "Do it now, I wanna get on the road." While Wayne finally looks from Lyle to you, the bastard takes another slow leisurely sip of his- your- coffee.

You focus your attention on Jim's spineless twin, though now- because he's coming towards you and pulling a cloth of out of his other pocket, and he looks grimm, and you're now realising really quick what must be in that jar in his pocket. Chloroform.

Fuck.

"No- " You start struggling again, and kick out at him.

"Get a hold of her." He barks, glaring at Dale who huffs out an 'I'm trying', while struggling to hold you still. Eventually he manages to stomp his foot down hard on both of yours at once, and he's so strong you can't escape. "Was that so hard?" Wayne mutters under his breath, coming the rest of the way towards you again. Stopping directly in front of you and pulling out the jar of chloroform. You dig your fingernails into Dale's wrist, his arm around your front holding your arms down so you didn't hurt anyone.

You watch Wayne wet the cloth carefully, but not too carefully as he spills some on your carpet. Lyle shakes his head, still just drinking coffee. When he's ready you turn your head away, seal your lips and eyes closed and hold your breath.

Wayne's hand curl around the back of your neck, fingers embedding in your hair and holding you still. "Come on now,.. this won't hurt one bit." The familiar (familiar, but not exact.) voice assures, almost comforting except for the fact you know who it's coming from. And you wouldn't trust it one bit, even he wasn't armed with a gun and a cloth drenched in chloroform. You don't respond at all.

Carefully, almost gently, Wayne pulls your hair at the roots- causing you to gasp at the prickling pain. The cloth immediately presses firmly over your mouth and nose, and when the chemical smell touches your taste buds your eyes flash open wide.

You already feel dizzy, Wayne's features so close looking fuzzy around the edges but not yet blurry. You try to remain mad at him, to hold onto your consciousness, but your body's starting to feel heavy. His eyes almost lull you into a false sense of safety in your drugged state, looking so much like Jim. Exactly like Jim. At least, if he wasn't so pale. Still you find yourself lolling towards him, eyelids falling heavy. "There ya go... " You hope your eyes say screw you, back.

Dale holds you up when the muscles in your legs give out and your head falls forward, eyes slipping closed.

Norman takes a quick picture of the scene just before Wayne takes the cloth away from your face. With a tired and holy unimpressed huff, Lyle puts down his mug. "Great. Send that to Jim, get the girl in the backseat and let's get on the damn road. Need some real coffee."

[scribeforchrist-blog]

Beware of the Need for More

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ James 5:13 Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray. Is anyone cheerful? Let him sing praise.

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VERSE OF THE DAY

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+ Luke 12:15  And he said unto them, Take heed, and beware of covetousness: for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth.

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM CONTENT

I AM BARING FRUIT

I AM NOT COVETING

I AM STRONG

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READ TIME: 7 Minutes & 56 Seconds

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THOUGHTS:

=======================

     We accumulate tons of things in our rooms, in our homes, and in our cabinets. We don’t even use some of this stuff, but we have it, and we don’t want to throw it away because we feel it's ours. No matter how much stuff we know we have, it doesn’t stop us from getting more stuff; some of us have so much that we forget most of the stuff we do have. But would we stop using it even if we got a warning about it? Would we stop collecting unnecessary things? Probably not; the bible verse today tells us to BEWARE of covetousness; our life isn’t about the abundance of things we have, how many times have we looked at someone else stuff. And say I want this because this person has it or I want this because this other person has that, the word tells us not to covet what other people have.

  I can remember I got everything I wanted when I was younger, in my early twenties. I got it. I didn’t care about how much I already had or what it was; if I wanted it, I got it. I didn’t even care if I could use it because I just needed to have it, and in my mind, it was a need, and it wasn’t a need; it was more of a want. I was coveting other people's things; a lot of times, during any sin, we don’t see it as a sin or as wrong because we are too busy trying to get more.

   Psalm 119:36-37 Incline my heart to your testimonies, not to selfish gain! Turn my eyes off worthless things, and give me life in your ways.

     I didn’t know what I was doing at the time; I just knew it was something I WANTED, and I got it. I didn’t ever use it, but for a day, maybe two days, and I was done with it; it was just the point of having it in my hands, see covetousness it can take over; every sin makes us do this. It’s the part no one wants to discuss about allowing ourselves to get so focused on whatever it is that we don’t see the harm until it's too late.

     Hebrews 13:5 Keep your life free from the love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.

 Jesus wants us to stop and notice the things around us. He wants us to notice what we shouldn’t do and immediately take it to him. The enemy will have you thinking what you're doing is fine, and the world will tell you it is fine, but it is not , it’s a sin, no matter how you look at it. When we stop normalizing sin and making it okay and saying it’s alright, we can quickly kill the sin, but what happens is we talk to friends and family instead of God, and they tell us it’s okay to do it this way, or it’s okay to be that way.

  Also, in this verse, the lord says to be content, but it’s hard to be content when our wants outweigh our sense of reasoning; that’s why we must go back to God and have him recalibrate our minds and hearts. Sometimes, we lose focus of what we are supposed to be doing because our mind is on the wrong things; see, the enemy wants our mind to stay on the wrong things, people of God; he wants us where we are so distracted we don’t call upon the name of the lord but friends we must start calling on him because our sins are going to overcome us if we don’t try to let go of them, our sins will turn into something worse if we aren’t careful.

  The word of God today is saying BEWARE, and that’s a sign of caution; that’s a sign of warning; we can take heed of it or ignore God's warning of any sin. Don’t allow money and things to distract you from the love of God or your relationship with him

  1 Timothy 6:6-8 Yet true godliness with contentment is itself great wealth. After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it. So, if we have enough food and clothing, let us be content

  When we are content having wealth, we didn’t come into this world with anything, and we will leave just the same way, so to accumulate so much stuff isn’t going to get us closer to heaven; the word says if we have enough food, and we have enough clothing that’s all we should want and be content. Are you content? Are you satisfied? God can make us so content in our lives if we allow him to. Some of us are happy with wanting so much that we are blinded by it, but God's word says to be content; we must find a healthy balance in our life, and we can’t do that if we aren’t ready to. Are you ready to find it??

Luke 8:14 And as for what fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way, they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature.

  Some of us are these kinds of seeds; we hear the word, but we are chocked by the cares and riches of this life; we look for pleasure rather than to please God, and the fruits that we are supposed to be baring don’t mature because it can’t because we don’t allow God to nurture them. We are too busy nurturing our pockets and sinful ways. God wants to take care of every facet of our lives, not just the good parts but the sinful parts too, but we must be ready to let go and allow him to do this.

  ***Today, we talked about being content and accumulating so much stuff. It’s easy to do, but do we think it’s unnecessary? Do we see what God says about this, or do we just agree because we think that’s what he wants us to do? God wants us to understand why he says this about our lives because he wants us to see truly, and if we don’t, we need to ask; some of us want to understand the heart of God, and some of us don’t, but whatever we are having a problem with we must take it to God, today we learned we must be content not just with life but also with what we have, we need our heart regulated by God, because he’s the only one that can fix us he’s the only one that can show us the way, without him we can’t bare good fruits nor be content.

©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

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PRAYER

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Heavenly Father, thank you for today, lord; help us be content and satisfied in what you're doing in our life, and lord, change us; please show us the way today, Father; we pray that you stir a revival through this country for people to seek you earnestly and who want to be closer to you more and more. Lord, give them a fire to read their word and to pray; lord, we ask right now that you forgive us of our sins; in Jesus' Name, Amen

========================

REFERENCES

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+ Psalm 37:16 Better is the little that the righteous has than the abundance of many wicked

 

+2 Peter 2:3 And in their greed, they will exploit you with false words. Their condemnation from long ago is not idle, and their destruction is not asleep.

 

+ Habakkuk 2:9 Woe to him who gets evil gain for his house, to set his nest on high, to be safe from the reach of harm!

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FURTHER READINGS

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 Proverbs 19

Leviticus 19

2 King 10

Genesis 3

=========================

[remedyxtragedy]

Important conversation to be had up ahead--

There are plenty of absurd things in this world I've long since stopping caring about because it is my understanding that there is only so much that can come from fretting over things that are beyond our control, however still I must reiterate that there are equally as many absurd things even I absolutely have to recognize and address because too often do they just fly under the radar. Such things including the romanticization of murderers, serial killers, and literally any disgusting degenerate who we should unconditionally deplore and reject.

Why, why in good God's name is this even an issue? Why must people like this further taint my perceptions of humanity? Frequently, I try to remind myself that this world is still worth living in, that out there exists a vast sea of good, benevolent people who make the experience all the more tolerable and that I shouldn't let a few bad eggs ruin the joyride of life, but then...when I go on the internet and stumble upon yet another case of some fatherless disgrace sympathizing with, simping for, and sometimes even flat out idolizing a serial killer, whether they're real or fictional, instantly I want to leap out the nearest window because I just cannot fathom for the life of me how these people are even real and how on a daily basis, I am coexisting with them.

I don't know why some people think that just because they're folding over a fictional serial killer it's trivial next to the fans of real life shit stains on the cloth of humanity, but I will gladly take them by the hand, sit their ignorant asses down, and explain in vivid detail why that is an abhorrently unsound mindset. I can't help but glare at my own sister in disgust every time she goes on about how she like's Ghost Face; my scorn is not exclusive to people outside my family--I either hate or love everyone, no one is spared.

There's a stark contrast between admiring how these characters are written and incorporating them into your work innocuously, as I too can resonate with, and just straight up finding them attractive regardless of the profoundly disgusting things they've done. I don't know what the psychology behind this looks like, I'm obviously in so such way educated in that regard, but maybe It's really easy for me to not fall head over heels for legit menaces to law and order because in my time I've read a good few encyclopedias on these kinds of people and am now cursed with the knowledge of how life can, has, and always will be horrifically desecrated by these monsters. It's just one of the few things I just cannot stomach.

Confidently, I can declare that we as a species are regressing, and it's evident in the good-for-nothings who spew nothing but parochial, myopic bullshit and are ever so sneakily infiltrating the public scene. As I'm a Christian, I trust in Jesus's return and the rapture, but as an individually intuitive girl with a wild imagination and dark thoughts that ceaselessly loom over me no matter how badly I want them to go away, a funny thought I quite like entertaining is that every effort humans make to consolidate our presence here on Earth only brings us closer to our inevitable demise, at some point we will outstay our welcome in this world, try and bush barriers we were not mean to, and the outcome is gonna be ugly. It all starts with little oddities here and there, little creases and cracks being formed in our design, and those things amass into a bigger formidable issue composed of all the fissures we've failed to patch, and that happens over and over all gain until it balloons far out of our control into a permanent fracture that we're just gonna have to learn how to mold around and coexist with. Perhaps one day, and one day soon, they become too much for the scaffolds of our civilizations to bear, which at that point causes the creeds and views we've founded our homes, hospitals, economy, society, and government upon to come toppling over until finally we find ourselves descending into a downward incline towards total catastrophe. Let it be known, that Idiosyncratic is founded upon this random notion I threw together during a more darker period in my life. I never would've thought such misanthropic thinking would culminate into the best premise I've ever come up with, obviously in my personal person.

Imma be working on a series of artworks showcasing what the Whitman propaganda in my book is gonna look like, and an idea I have for one of them is a visual displaying the human evolution chart except after the Homo Sapien stage we start regressing all the way back to whatever the hell the first stage is, until again they continue to evolve but iat the end of this series instead of there being a human it's Whitman himself, who is by the by no way shape or form human. It's like, we rose, we fell, then rose again--but no longer are we what we were before. I probably sound mad right now, but I promise it'll make a lot more sense once I actually make it.

Anyways, that's all I got to say right now, but just as a final comment--why is it that people are so adamant that it's either science or religion? Why can't everything be perfectly and meticulously intertwined? The way I see it, faith is not founded upon having absolute definitive proof of a a higher omnipotent being, it's believing in them and trusting in them unconditionally and wholeheartedly, you needn't know that they're there to know that they're there, if that makes sense. For me, it was never a matter of whether or not God is real--that much is practically innate to my being--it was always, why does he work in such esoteric ways? When I was younger, the answer was far beyond me, but now I know better--and I am endlessly astounded by God's work. That's my take, though.

[quicktimeeventfull]

Marrow: Lawlight Succession AU

1.7K words Read here or on AO3 Light has some concerns and some capitulations regarding his marriage to L, one of the incomprehensibly rich children of the media mogul who employs him. or A Tom-coded Light and a Shiv-coded L have a very one-sided conversation about how Light ought to earn his keep. Content notes: Unevenly toxic relationships, generally horrific family dynamics, L wears a black turtleneck. There are no major spoilers for Succession and I feel this will probably (?) make sense without having watched it.

So it’s 10:15 on a Wednesday. L has pulled me into a frigid conference room in the head office of his father’s company, where I work and he interlopes, and I am once again coming to the realization that I have married an insane person who has my absolute worst interests at heart.

Or, well. I should qualify that. L is batshit, but in a good way, a way that whets us both. L is brilliant and scintillating and incredibly hot if you’re into exotic marsupials, which clearly I am. The problem with marrying L, however, is you also marry into the entire Wammy clan, who treat each other the way grizzly bears treat those balls of meat zookeepers toss into their cages for enrichment.

L on his own is the love of my life. My heartbeat, my soul. L combined with his family is a gangrenous wound and right now he’s jabbing me back against the drywall with two knuckles, talking so fast I can barely understand him. I don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. The knuckles against my sternum, I mean, although frankly I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t know about the talking either. He is wearing a black turtleneck to indicate that he isn’t stuffy and constrained like his siblings, and also possibly because it’s about fifty degrees in here; if I exercise mindful meditation and listen below my husband’s lunatic ramblings I can hear the rush of the air conditioner merging with the click-click-click of our ergonomically diffused fluorescents.

He’s better than this. But I understand. Bone-deep, I do.

“Beyond knows exactly what he’s fucking doing,” he’s saying. “He’s whispering to Quillsh behind my back. I know he is.” Calling his father by his first name is L’s new thing. It is, I think, meant to convey a sense of disaffection. It does not. “I — we — you and I — need to get some leverage, and this would work. It’s the right move. Sakura TV is where the power is, and you know Quillsh. He’ll follow the scent of that anywhere it goes.”

My skull is pressed right up against the dove-grey drywall. It hurts if I think about it, so I don’t. He’s looking at me, technically, but not really. I could be anyone right now. His eyes are fixed on mine, black and endless, but I know they aren’t seeing anything at all. He is for some reason wearing my cologne, which is Hermés H24 — cary sage, narcissus and rosewood. I have no idea why he’s done that, but either way he’s wreathed in my scent, which is eerie now, the echo of me as chosen by him. He must have left home not too long ago because it still smells close to how it does straight from the bottle.

“L,” I tell him, trying to restore some normality to the situation, “I am not going to fuck Demegawa.”

Knuckle still pressed into my bone, he looks at me like I’ve lost it. “I never said you should fuck Demegawa.”

“You did,” I tell him. “L. You said, ‘I think Demegawa is interested in you, and it would be nice if you showed him a good time.’”

“Well, that doesn’t mean you should fuck him,” L says, although it clearly does. He does, at least, stop poking me in the ribs, although he unfolds his fingers and presses his palm flat against my chest instead so I’m still pressed against the wall, a situation I might find arousing if he weren’t trying to convince me to have sex with the morally repulsive head of the morally repulsive Sakura TV so he can fuck over his morally repulsive twin brother. “Jesus, Light.”

He’s probably right about Beyond trying to destroy him, actually. The Wammy siblings always have about six concurrent games of full-contact chess going at any given moment. This does not mean I’m going to let him whore me out to rectify the matter.

“What else could it possibly mean?” I say.

“Well, just a good time. You’re attractive. You’re tall.” We are the same height. “You’ve got nice hair. I’m not taking about sex, Light. God. I was just suggesting — you could take him out for dinner, let him look at you, maybe —“ He takes his hand away from me so he can make what is clearly a handjob motion.

“L. Jesus. I’m not going to jerk Demegawa off for you.”

He has the gall to look indignant. “I didn’t say you should!” His fingers are still wrapped around an invisible cock.

I make the same shape with my own hand. “What is this, then, L? What do you want me to do? You want me to, what, take him out to Coney Island and get him a corn dog? Buy tickets to an idol concert and shake one of those sticks around?” I jerk my hand up and down, like he’d been doing.

He stares at me, then takes a step back and throws his hands up, eyes still fixed on the space I occupy.

“God! Can’t you just — this isn’t for me, you know. It’s for both of us. It’s for you more than me, actually.” This is a ludicrous statement, but I don’t get a chance to question it because he’s already pacing, flinging his hand towards the door. “And Beyond isn’t even the worst of it, you know. Near is closing in, too — he’s got some sort of deal with that awful man Quillsh is seeing, and Mello’s been quiet for way too long. If we don’t get a handle on this, Light, I’m fucked. He’ll cut me out and then where will we be?”

We will, I think, continue to be millionaires with a penthouse in Tribeca but I do take his point.

He is nothing but his father’s wealth, his father’s empire, everything he owns inherited and unearned. Chip away at that and you cut right into his skin. Whereas I simply have a realistic understanding of money, which is to say: it opens every door in the world, and I would like as much of it as possible.

He is walking the room, not waiting for an answer. He is looking at the tasteful grey walls because he already knows what I’m going to say. This is what money does, for him and for me. It buys you nice clothes and Michelin food but more importantly it makes you untouchable. It makes you safe, forever and always. You never need to worry about what other people think because at the end of the day they’ll dance for whatever scraps you throw. I am aware of this but he is not. He is so careless with his power. He knows, I think, that he is my single weakness, the one person who can take this all away, but he knows this the way a master knows his dog must be leashed.

I don’t mind this because I adore him and I don’t intend to leave. All the same, I read the prenup and I was not favoured.

Listen: that’s true love, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. An engagement ring is all well and good but I didn’t feel like I was his until we sat down with a lawyer each to squabble about how much flesh we’d carve off each other’s ribs if the whole thing went slantwise. Love, real love, love between adults, that’s all about deciding on the conditions you can impose and the conditions you can bear.

And don’t you want to know? In your heart of hearts, you know there are rules of engagement. Isn’t it better to understand the exact parameters, the consequences for wandering too far out of line? Each morning I look at my husband, who does not care for me — I know this — who has become bored of me, who keeps me around the way adults keep stuffed animals from their childhoods to pull out when they’re unwell, this ragged familiar thing that can’t ever leave, and I ask myself if it’s worth it. I can smell the bodies of other men on him, hotel soap on his skin when he promised he was out for business, and I know that once he wakes he will ask me to preform for him a million humiliating acts then expect me to thank him for the privilege of his attention and the lips he shares with strangers. God, he was sick for me once but now he gives me so little. It’s love because that’s what the contract said but it’s a thin sort of love. I look at his hair spread out on the sheets and his eyes tremoring in his sleep and I decide whether or not I can stand what my life has become.

And yes, obviously. I can. I’m still here. I’ve weighed the options, clear-eyed, and here I am. He makes me nauseous and he makes me insane but I still love every single piece of gristle on his bones.

“Look,” I tell him. “I have a meeting.” I don’t. “I would really, really love to stay and discuss why I should give Demegawa a handjob because Beyond made you said, but I absolutely have to go. You should eat something, okay? Maybe drink some water? Pull together some chairs and take a nap?” He’s opening his mouth to argue, so I’m backing out of the room as I talk; I’m opening the door with one hand and stepping out. “I’ll call you later, alright? Or we can meet back at the apartment. I’m thinking of ordering Thai. Okay. Bye, L. Great talk. Let me know if you think of anyone else for me to suck off.”

I shut the door before he can protest, then stalk off back to my office. I will, I think, call my assistant when I’m there; I’ll need her to research the sorts of places Demegawa likes to go for dinner. I’m not going to touch him, but yeah, sure, I can let him look. I am L’s. I am L’s, always. He feeds me and he buys me beautiful things and I belong only and forever to him. So, sure, I’ll do this, why not. I’m not ashamed of my worth.

[canirove]

The Princess & the Football Player | Chapter 34

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Masterlist

"Wow, Ellie. Your face looks so red... Did I catch you shagging Declan?"

"Shagging?" I laugh.

"Yes, shagging. You know what it means, right?"

"I do, Sophie."

"And?"

"And what."

"Did I interrupt anything?"

"No, you didn't."

"Yet!" Declan says as he walks into the bathroom. 

"Ignore him" I reply, rolling my eyes. 

"Then why are you so red?" Sophie asks.

"I joined him and the boys at the gym and then when they were done training we played a little football game."

"Wait, they know?"

"Yep, he told them yesterday. I was starting to bore myself to death because I couldn't leave the apartment or do anything when they were here."

"And how did they react?"

"The new players freaked out a bit, they didn't know what to do or what to say."

"The usual around you, then" Sophie chuckles.

"Yeah... But the ones who were already playing for West Ham when Dec and I were together, were really happy to see me again."

"Because they also know you are meant to be" she smiles. "Have you talked about when you are coming back home? How long do you plan on living there?"

"I don't know. We've decided to spend the new year with Mason and Roberta because I haven't seen her in ages, but nothing else."

"I'm sure she'll love that. But then you could come over. Both of you. We all miss you, and you owe mum, dad and grandmama a chat."

"I know I do" I sigh. "Them, and Charles too. Do you know anything about him? David told me he left for Monaco."

"No, nothing. But he looked so gutted that night… Ellie, he loves you."

"I know he does. But I couldn't keep lying to him or myself. You know it better than anyone."

"I do, yes" Sophie sighs. "Anyway, I better go. Our beloved cousins have invited me to have tea with them and share gossip."

"Enjoy" I chuckle.

"Yeah, enjoy" she says, rolling her eyes. "Once we hang up you'll leave to go shag Declan, while I'll have to listen to Eugene talk for hours about her dog having problems going to the bathroom or how she's fallen in love with a new guy she's met twice."

"You'll be fine, Sophie. You can do it."

"I can, but I don't want to" she complains. "So you better enjoy your shagging, make one of us happy."

"Sophie, we aren't..." 

"Bye, sis. Love you!" she says with a big grin before hanging up.

"So... Are we shagging or not?" Declan says behind me.

"Jesus Christ, you scared me."

"Sorry. But are we shagging or not?"

"Can you all please stop saying that... word" I say as a turn around to look at him. He's leaning on the bathroom's door only wearing his boxers, his hair a perfect mess after training, his arms crossed over his chest and making his biceps pop. And all that while giving me that smile that he knows makes my insides melt. "We are shagging. We definitely are. But one thing" I say as I get up from the sofa. "Please stop using the word shagging."

"I promise, your Royal Highness" he smirks before lifting me in the air and throwing me over his shoulder, walking towards our room while I giggle like an idiot.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I'm so glad you could come, bro" Mason says, hugging Declan. "It must have been crazy these past days."

"It has, yeah. And it still is" he sighs.

"How long are you gonna be staying at Rush Green?" Roberta asks him. 

"I'm not sure. Eleanor has an event in a couple of weeks and they are planning on letting the press ask her questions so she can explain everything and stop all the bullshit, but she also wants to talk to Charles first."

"I wish she had come. I miss her so much..."

As Roberta says those words, someone rings the bell at Mason's house. 

"I'll get that" he says.

"Is anyone else joining us?" Declan asks.

"I don't think so. Mason asked around and everyone is either staying with their families or going to a party."

"Who could it be, then?"

"I... Eleanor!" Roberta yells, running towards her friend and hugging her.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Eleanor!" Roberta yells, running to hug me. "Oh, Ellie, I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you too" I say, hugging her back. 

"Aren't they cute?" Mason smiles.

"Very" Declan replies.

"But what are you doing here?" Roberta asks. "Declan said you were staying with your family!"

"That was a little lie, we wanted to surprise you" I say, breaking our embrace. "Oh, shit. I think my hair has got tangled on something."

"Let me... There."

"What are you wearing on that hand?" I ask while scratching my head. "That actually hurt."

"Oh... I just... Umm... We got engaged!" she yells again, showing me the huge diamond on her hand.

"You what?" Declan and I say at the same time.

"Surprise!" Mason says with a shy smile.

"When did that happen?" I ask.

"And why didn't you tell me? I'm your best friend, Mase!" Declan says.

"I know, I know. We just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while, you know? And since you had enough on your plate already with what happened over Christmas..." he shrugs.

"But you could have told me you were planning on doing it! Ask me for advice when you went to buy the ring, about how to do it… I don't know!"

"I'm sorry, Dec. Please don't get mad."

"I'm not mad, I'm just... You are engaged!" Declan says, hugging his friend.

"I'm so happy for you, guys. But now I want all the details" I tell Roberta.

"Why don't we tell you everything while we have dinner? I don't want the risotto to get cold" she says, linking her arm with mine and starting to walk towards the kitchen. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Three, two, one... Happy new year!" we all scream, fireworks being heard all around us, the sky full of different shapes and colours. 

"I love you, future husband" Roberta says to Mason.

"I love you too, future wife" he replies before kissing her.

"Can I get a new year kiss too?" I ask Declan.

"Just one?" he says with a cheeky smile.

"I mean, making out with you to start the new year sounds perfect" I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. "And it is a bit cold here in the garden, it will definitely help me warm up. But doing it in front of Roberta and Mason..."

"They are too busy with each other, they won't care."

"Yeah, they won't" I chuckle.

"Making out session to start the year, then?" he says, gently brushing his nose against mine. 

"Making out session to start the year" I giggle. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Are you guys naked?" Roberta asks after knocking on the door.

"What?" I mumble. 

"What time is it?" Declan yawns.

"Guys, I need an answer. Are you naked or not?"

"Yes, but you can't see anything."

"Oh, great" Roberta says, storming into the room. "Because I don't want to see your dick first thing in the morning, Declan. That's not how you start the new year."

"That's how I've started the new year" I smirk.

"And you definitely enjoyed it. Have you always been that loud?"

"I… guess? But maybe you heard us because you aren't loud enough anymore. The boring married life has started" I tease her.

"Whatever" she says, rolling her eyes. "Breakfast is ready, so if you want to join us, you know where to find us."

"Thank you, Roberta" Declan says.

"And happy new year!" I laugh, lifting the duvet on his side and leaving him stark naked in front of her.

"Oh my God!" she screams before running away.

"Eleanor Victoria Alexandra!" 

"Yes?" I say, giving Declan my most innocent smile.

"I'm gonna have to do something with you. That behaviour isn't appropriate for the future Queen of England."

"Something like what?" 

"Remember that time you tied my hands with my belt?"

"I do. It is a very fond memory" I smirk.

"Well, it's time I get my revenge" he says, leaving the bed.

"It's been years, Declan! Time to move on!" I laugh. "What are you doing in the bathroom?"

"I needed this" he says, showing me the bathrobe's belt.

"And what are you going to do with that?" I ask, biting my lip in anticipation.

"Lay down. Hands over your head."

"Yes, sir." 

"That's perfect" he says after tying my wrists together. "Are you comfortable there or is it too tight?"

"I'm good."

"Great. Now open your legs. Wide" he orders me again.

"And now?"

"Now I'm gonna eat you out, and then fuck you until neither of us can't keep going. And you can't put your hands down. If you do, I'll stop or go so slow you'll start begging."

"That won't happen" I smirk.

"We shall see" Declan replies with a similar smile before disappearing between my legs.

[wolint]

STUMBLING BLOCKS!

STUMBLING BLOCKS

Isaiah 57:13-15

 

Not all roads lead to God. There is a stumbling block that keeps man from reaching God: the stumbling block of sin.

In the Bible, the Greek word skándalon means a ‘trap-stick’ or a ‘stumbling block’ and is used figuratively to mean either something that causes people to sin, or something that causes them to lose their faith in Jesus and their way in life. A stumbling stone or tripwire is anything that makes someone trip and fall.

For something to qualify as scandalous, it must be evil or give the appearance of evil. To do a good act or an indifferent act, even knowing that it will inspire others to sin, can be a stumbling block as stated in Leviticus 19:14.

Yet so many are stumbling about out of confusion and lack of direction. But God has provided a map—the Bible—and a guide who knows the way and can give us directions—Jesus Christ. The world is littered with people and things that may and do cause us to stumble in life, detrimentally in the spiritual walk. Our text admonishes us to remove or go past every stumbling block in life.

The enemy knows the desires of our heart as much as God does and he uses it against us. He goads us into moving full steam ahead into situations that end up harmful, unhealthy, or just not the direction God has planned. Satan mimics God’s voice and signs so that we think we are hearing from the Lord, when in fact, the enemy is setting up a snare. He’s very clever like that.

When you feel like you are stumbling and at a roadblock, Psalm 25:4-5 is a good place to look to: “Show me the right path, O LORD; point out the road for me to follow. Lead me by your truth and teach me, for you are the God who saves me. All day long I put my hope in you.”

So many are right now stumbling over so many things in life: physical roadblocks, mental, emotional, material, and especially spiritual stumbling blocks. Some people have themselves become stumbling blocks to others against the instructions of 1 Corinthians 10:32-33: “So don’t be a stumbling block to anyone, whether they are Jews or Gentiles or Christians. That is the plan I follow, too. I try to please everyone in everything I do, not doing what I like or what is best for me but what is best for them, so that they may be saved.”

“Remove every stumbling block,” declares the Lord! Whatever will cause us to stumble in life must be dealt with swiftly and cleanly. When we determine to walk by the Spirit and not by the flesh, we will not stumble because of fleshy desires according to Galatians 5:16. These desires, having taken hold of one’s mind, heart, and life, will become a roadblock to healthy and victorious living while at the same time causing one to stumble in their spiritual race.

What has caused or is causing you to stumble in your walk with God? Whatever it is, it doesn’t really matter, as the Lord has given us instructions to help us navigate such roadblocks in Jeremiah 31:21: “Set up signs and mark the road; find again the way by which you left. Come back, people of Israel, come home to the towns you left.”

Yes, come back to the Lord, come back to faith, come back to the service of the Lord, those who have allowed the stumbling blocks of life to take them away from the path of righteousness. Why are we stumbling in the dark, groping to find a way out of the pit life’s put us in when the Lord, the great shepherd, is beckoning to us to follow the well-lit path according to Psalm 119:105?

Iniquities and sins create a barrier between God and his people, says Isaiah 59:2. Be sure to not allow stumbling blocks to stop you from being and doing all that the Lord has ordained for you.

PRAYER: Oh, Lord, help me not to be a stumbling block or allow anyone or anything to cause me to stumble in life. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT’L PRAYER MIN.

[keelt9]

Chapter 10

Pecan

Masterlist

“Cheers!” Jill screams before everybody take a shot; we been playing and drink for at least 3 hours and the alcohol is starting to make struggles in our bodies, my head feel dizzy, and my coordination, brain-body isn’t in the best moment, but somehow, we enjoy another 45 minutes before we decide to stop.

“Nah, no, no, no.” Penny along with Steve, her mid time helping boy, stops us in the main door. 

“The runaway drink tour, it’s canceled.” We complain but our stubbornness is at its lowest, then when the air hits my face everything becomes blurry. I remember my team in a taxi waving their hands, me in a car, and then my mom serving a cup of coffee, my bed and closing my eyes.

The next morning the looks my parents gave to me confirm I came home in not a good state, but they omit any kind of comment.

In the base Cyclone is already waiting for me in his office. “Long night, I guess.” I just press my lips together. “Straight to the point.” We sat in his office. 

“The Greyhound team has an important mission in 3 weeks, we’re going to notify them next week, however we decide to inform you first because you are going with them, also this time you fly by yourself, not a second man on board.” The question is already forming in my mind, he answers. “It is not a punishment, we like the way you work alone in the exercises, and we want to take a hit on it.” Actually, I prefer that too. 

“Still, you have to fight again for the leader position with Shooter.” He says, making me laugh. “Like the old times.”

The rest of the week I put in a lot of flight hours even if I came back with my team, they need to know I’m trustworthy and I’m sure what I am doing. 

With the beginning of the next week the team was informed about the mission, recommencement and air support in an uncertain zone, no allies near, so we must be careful and back with nice information if it’s possible.

“Are you sure you can keep the rhythm with us?” Mike asked me when the meeting finished. “I mean we can take easy on you for a couple of days.” He is pissing me off, I already know that. 

In the exercise of the afternoon I proved to him I’m still damn good at what I do. Jill and I made a great team while they lost the focus chasing me, by chance they put the eye on Jill and Barry who were exposed for a perfect shot but didn't expect I was exactly waiting for that, having them in my sight. “That’s a down.” Jill says and I smile. 

“I think I can follow the rhythm, Shooter.” He just marks the way to go back. 

The dagger team didn’t come back until the end of the week. Like I wasn’t a member of their team, no one received information about the result, not even Jake, and when I heard early in the morning, they came back I decided to play a little game with them. Jill and Barry just came down from the training and the rest were already in the locker room when the dagger team started searching for answers. Phoenix and Jake found them in the hangar taking off their helmets. 

“There you are! Jesus, we've been looking for you since we arrived.” I was hiding behind some airplanes, desperate looks on their faces. 

“What happened?” Jill and Barry put sad faces and look at each other followed by down their eyes to their helmets. 

“Jill?” Phoenix asks and Jake closes his eyes and throws his head to the back. 

“Damn, how can she not pass? She is like a dream in the air.” Phoenix put her hands on her waist, but Jake denied. “No, there must be a hidden reason, it’s impossible.”

“Some of th….” Bradley enters running to the scene and observes the faces of Phoenix and Hangman.  “No.” He grabs his neck and makes the butterflies in my stomach wake up with such a simple action.

“That’s the point.” Barry says with his face stuck in the ground, I see Jill fight for holding back the laughter and that makes me giggle, all seeing Barry. “She always makes the impossible.” That was my cue.

I walk where they are and act like I don’t know what’s happening. “Is everything ok?” Nat breath but didn’t process the fact I was in my suit. 

“You didn’t…” She screams right away. 

“I didn’t what?” Jake smirks as he’s pulling me to lift me from the ground and hug me. 

“You did it.” I laugh and see Nat punch Jill and Barry in the shoulders. 

“Of course, I passed.” He let me go and Nat hugged me leaving me breathless. 

“I really want to punch you but agh! I’m so happy right now.” I hug her and I see Rooster with a huge smile on his face, but he doesn't have the chance to say something if that’s what he plans because Hondo calls the dagger team, Cyclone is looking for them.

“We are not over.” Nat points to me before leaving.

I felt Jill’s eyes scanning me. “What?” I ask her to avoid her green eyes, Barry clear his throat and look at me. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I say take off my gloves. 

“Curiosity.” Barry says before walking. “You’re blushing, that’s all.” 

I feel my face burning and immediately touch it causing a little laugh from Jill. 

By the end of the day, I need a proper rest. The training was tiring but we know we need to be prepared for anything up there, more if the uncertainty is the only thing we have for sure, I put my cap on when I just get down the stairs when I hear someone call me.

“I get you.” Rooster says breathless and I smile at him. “I…I just want to congratulate you for passing the exercises.” It's weird, looking at him still makes me get a little bit down my cap, I’m feeling shy.

“Thanks.” I don’t know what else to say. “I’m glad that all of you came back.” He smiles and nods. 

“Yeah, it was a hard one, but we made it back here.” He bumped his fist with his own hand taking a couple of seconds to talk again.“Listen Y/N if you’re not…” 

Maverick announces his presence with his motorcycle. “Sky, are you still here?” Mave asks me when he gets down off it, but I see something strange in his face, like an uneasiness. 

“I’m leaving actually.” He smiles at me but speaks to Rooster. 

“Shall we?” He looks to the stairs, and I guess something private is developing at that moment. 

“Oh, I’m leaving.” I wave my hands and Rooster waves me back. 

It wasn’t a secret that Bradley and Pete have issues before and during the training for the uranium mission but Maverick never told me the reason of that and I never dare to ask, and right now they seem to have a thing for way the look each other  after I left them alone, those few seconds were enough for wake up my curiosity and if I’m lucky I could get answers. 

At home my dad isn’t there so I tell my mom I will go for a while with Penny, not for having drinks just for a chat and I’ll be back before midnight, with the answers I need.

“Look what the air brings.” Penny says and I walk to the counter where Amalia seems really deep in her homework. 

“Math uh?” Amalia smiled at me but hit her face with her palm. 

“The pain of my life must be said.” I laugh but she closes her notebook. 

“Mom, I'm going home.” She says packing her bag. 

“Careful.” She nods and gives me a hug. 

“All yours Sky.” I smile, her eyes screaming the need of fresh air.

“So, what brings you here so early?” Penny asks, sitting next to me. “Dagger team will come tomorrow, Pete said they have a little trouble.” I scoff. 

“Actually, it is more about him.” Penny raises her eyebrow. 

“Pete?” I nod and she gets comfortable. 

“What happened between Maverick and Rooster?” 

-

Dad always says if Maverick could live in an airplane, he would do it without asking. When he bought and transformed an old hangar in his home, dad just moved side to side, but from time to time, we used to come and have dinner with him, it was strange but lovely at the same time.

“Uncle Mav?” I see a light coming out under the aircraft. 

“Oh, Y/N, what are you doing here?” He asks me to roll out and with some tool in his hands, so I raise the bag I keep behind me. 

“Are you in the mood for Mexican Food?” He sits and smiles at me.

“So, why don't you have dinner with your parents?” He asks me after eating another bite from his taco 

“They are on a date, and I’m old enough for don’t go on dates with my parents.” He giggles but he knows I have another intention. 

“And…” I clean my hands and cross my legs, we are having dinner on an improvised table in the ground. 

“Well…I’m gonna be honest, I tried to find answers with Penny, but she didn’t say anything more than I should ask you directly.” He is watching very carefully and let me continue.

“What happened between you and Bradley Bradshaw?” He takes a sip of his water and gets down his sight. “You don’t have to answer me, it’s…” He stands and goes where he put all his tools when he comes back, he has a picture on his hands.

He gave it to me and saw young Pete Michell and a blond guy with a mustache holding him by the shoulders grabbing his helmet. “Months after the dead or Riley, do you remember I told you I lost my best friend in an exercise in my trainee period in Top Gun?” I assent and he points to the blond guy in the photo. “He was Goose, Nick Bradshaw, he left a family, a lovely wife Carol and his son Bradley.”

Fuck. “Bradley Bradshaw.”

The rest is a story I knew, my dad and Maverick many years ago were discussing about he pull out the papers of one of his best friends sons, dad practically beg him thinking well if it was the right decision but Maverick told him it was a promise he made to his mother before she die, with some doubts dad don’t talk about it anymore, but that doesn’t mean I keep my mouth shut.

“I think you did the right thing.” Uncle Mav and I are sitting in the backyard watching the stars. 

“You heard, huh?” I omit that question because it was too obvious.

“If she already lost the man she loves up there, why make her suffer knowing she could lose his son too.” 

He put his hand in my head. “Cold head, like your father, even not sharing the same opinion.” He smiles at him. 

“Let’s be honest, if you and mom didn’t support me, dad will do the same with my papers.” He scoffs, hugging me.

“While we prepare the mission for the uranium plant, we work to fix our relationship. I never tell him, his mother asked me to pull out his paper and I don't have any intention of telling him.” He shows me another photo, Bradley, and his parents. “He forgives but we still have a long way to go.” I see love in his eyes, and I understand how much Rooster means to him and that clears the doubts about the face he put when he saw us together. 

“I guess he doesn't know who exactly I am.” He presses his lips together and sees me. 

“No, he didn’t.” That puts things in a difficult situation. 

“And he also didn’t know I knew and supported you pulling out his papers.” He denies. 

“I’m sorry Y/N, I…I didn’t know you met or that you are fr…” I cut him. 

“We don’t.” I see Uncle Mav suffer when the young boy he sees like a son turn apart from him, I see the fight inside of him when he took the decision and the happiness back to his expression when the things start to fix, what will happen if Bradley know I’m Tom Kazansky daughter and one of the people support Maverick when no one did years ago?

What if something messes up with them because he hides that from him? What if he slips away from Maverick’s life?

“I just met him a year ago when I came for the trial of Riley, and we’ve talked a couple of times during the test but well, we are not friends.” Maverick looks straight to my eyes but he nods.

I can’t forgive myself if Maverick lost Rooster one more time.

[unitedbydevils]

Match Review: Bayern München 4-3 Manchester United

Lets be honest, reds. Defeat was almost certainly on the cards and a 1-goal deficit is perhaps a best case scenario.

In classic Ten Hag Era fashion, United started off looking competitive. We were more patient than against Brighton and spent good spells in Bayern's half, but that... didn't last [see below]

Beleaguered goalkeeper Andre Onana conceded what can only be described as a howler - on the back of a stream of constant criticism since the start of the season. An easy shot going in? Why does that seem familiar? Oh yeah, De Gea.

Kudos to Onana though. He actively requested to speak to the press post-match to apologise for his mistake, citing a good team performance and his failure as the reason for a missed result. I think he's wrong on that count - it was a team failing - but the humility to apologise and be accountable is an admirable trait.

Just four minutes later came Bayern's second goal; a well worked play around our box that was SO similar to goals scored by Brighton and Arsenal that either Lindelof/Casemiro aren't doing their jobs OR the coaching staff need to fix something in training because that was predictable and basic.

Despite limited service, Rasmus Hojlund was one of two (maybe three) bright sparks in United's performance. The Champions League debutant (we don't count an Atalanta qualifier) scored from a rare Marcus Rashford pass to bring the score back to 2-1.

Optimism suddenly. Energy. Vitality. Desire. United woke up! And then the Christian Eriksen/Casemiro pivot was bypassed yet again, Munich put it on United, and Eriksen conceded a silly but unfortunate handball - which led to a Harry Kane penalty and a 3-1 lead.

United never looked like the better team after the first 10 minutes, nor competitive after the first 20, but credit to the likes of Reguilon (who put in a big shift) and Pellistri (perhaps his first United start? away at Bayern?) for their determination and work rate through the match. Basic things, but if others aren't doing it it's remiss not to credit them.

Manchester United hung on in but freshly deflated didn't look like a renewed threat. Despite this, we some how scored the most scuffed goal from Casemiro. 3-2, game back on, right?

Wrong. Bayern push again and bang in a tidy 4th. Depression. But wait, then United run up the other end, final minute, and Bruno puts in a peach of a free kick for Casemiro to head home. 4-3, with 10 seconds of play left.

To the neutral, this was an interesting game, but it wasn't a good match. Had Bayern been in any semblance of form they could have snotted United 6 or 7 nil. That said, had United not had so many injuries and also been in form... I reckon we could have won. Were both teams in form then it would really have been a classic ECL clash. This is the nature of football. Shit happens, teams adapt.

There were few positives for United to draw from that match, but there were things confirmed: Eriksen cannot do it in the big games anymore. Casemiro needs a rest. Martinez/Lindelof needs work. Dalot is lucky AWB is out injured. Rashford needs to stop sulking and pass more. McTominay needs a special 1 on 1 coach to teach him movement and positioning because the man is allergic to receiving a pass.

The good news is that Mount, Varane, Amrabat and Mainoo are all close to a return. Will any be back for Burnley? We'll see, but that's the new focus and a must-win - potentially even a relegation six-pointer based on current form... jesus christ.