#isaac wicker

[zaacataac]

I want to change my url so something Jacob related so I could make a post like “Murder is bad but child sacrifice is worse” and someone can reblog and say “what an interesting post tumblr user jacobwickersdefenslawyer”

[junkfoodcinemas]

JUNKFOODCINEMAS PRESENTS SO BAD IT'S GOOD JUNK: PART 2

Catwoman (2004) dir. Pitof

Jason X (2001) dir. James Isaac

Halloween: Resurrection (2002) dir. Rick Rosenthal

New York Ninja (2021*) dir. John Liu, Kurtis M. Spieler

The Wicker Man (2006) dir. Neil LaBute

Undefeatable (1993) dir. Godfrey Hall

Hard Ticket to Hawaii (1987) dir. Andy Sidaris

Maximum Overdrive (1986) dir. Stephen King

Mortal Kombat: Annihilation (1997) dir. John R. Leonetti

Suburban Commando (1991) dir. Burt Kennedy

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🖤 Black History Month ❤️

💛 Queer Books by Black Authors 💚

[ List Under the Cut ]

🖤 Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender ❤️ Under the Udala Trees by Chinelo Okparanta 💛 Warrior of the Wind by Suyi Davies Okungbowa 💚 I'm a Wild Seed by Sharon Lee De La Cruz 🖤 Real Life by Brandon Taylor ❤️ Ruthless Pamela Jean by Carol Denise Mitchell 💛 The Unbroken by C.L. Clark 💚 Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Córdova 🖤 Skin Deep Magic by Craig Laurance Gidney ❤️ The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi 💛 That Could Be Enough by Alyssa Cole 💚Work for It by Talia Hibbert

🖤 All Boys Aren't Blue by George M. Johnson ❤️ The Deep by Rivers Solomon 💛 How to Be Remy Cameron by Julian Winters 💚 Running With Lions by Julian Winters 🖤 Right Where I Left You by Julian Winters ❤️ This Is Kind of an Epic Love Story by Kacen Callender 💛 The Weight of the Stars by K. Ancrum 💚 This Is What It Feels Like by Rebecca Barrow 🖤 Son of the Storm by Suyi Davies Okungbowa ❤️ Black Boy Joy by Kwame Mbalia 💛 Legendborn by Tracy Deonn 💚 The Wicker King by K. Ancrum

🖤 Pet by Akwaeke Emezi ❤️ You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson 💛 Once Ghosted, Twice Shy by Alyssa Cole 💚 Cinderella Is Dead by Kalynn Bayron 🖤 Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann ❤️ A Spectral Hue by Craig Laurance Gidney 💛 Power & Magic by Joamette Gil 💚 The Black Veins by Ashia Monet 🖤 Treasure by Rebekah Weatherspoon ❤️ The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow 💛 Black Leopard, Red Wolf by Marlon James 💚 Full Disclosure by Camryn Garrett

🖤 The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta ❤️ Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee 💛 A Phoenix First Must Burn (edited) by Patrice Caldwell 💚 Rise to the Sun by Leah Johnson 🖤 Things We Couldn't Say by Jay Coles ❤️ Black Boy Out of Time by Hari Ziyad 💛 Darling by K. Ancrum 💚 The Secrets of Eden by Brandon Goode 🖤 Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé ❤️ Off the Record by Camryn Garrett 💛 Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers 💚 Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé

🖤 How to Dispatch a Human by Stephanie Andrea Allen ❤️ Black Girl, Call Home by Jasmine Mans 💛 The Essential June Jordan (edited) by Jan Heller Levi and Christoph Keller 💚 A Master of Djinn by P. Djèlí Clark 🖤 A Blade So Black by L.L. McKinney ❤️ Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo 💛 Dread Nation by Justina Ireland 💚 Punch Me Up to the Gods by Brian Broome 🖤 Masquerade by Anne Shade ❤️ One of the Good Ones by Maika Moulite & Maritza Moulite 💛 Soulstar by C.L. Polk 💚 100 Boyfriends by Brontez Purnell

🖤 Hurricane Child by Kacen Callender ❤️ Quietly Hostile by Samantha Irby 💛 Coffee Will Make You Black by April Sinclair 💚 The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi 🖤 If It Makes You Happy by Claire Kann ❤️ Sweethand by N.G. Peltier 💛 This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron 💚 Better Off Red by Rebekah Weatherspoon 🖤 Friday I’m in Love by Camryn Garrett ❤️ Rainbow Milk by Paul Mendez 💛 Memorial by Bryan Washington 💚 Patsy by Nicole Y. Dennis-Benn

🖤 Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon ❤️ How to Find a Princess by Alyssa Cole 💛 Yesterday is History by Kosoko Jackosn 💚 Mouths of Rain (edited) by Briona Simone Jones 🖤 Dead Dead Girls by Nekesa Afia ❤️ Love's Divine by Ava Freeman 💛 The Prophets by Robert Jones Jr 💚 Odd One Out by Nic Stone 🖤 Symbiosis by Nicky Drayden ❤️ Thanks a Lot, Universe by Chad Lucas 💛 The Passing Playbook by Isaac Fitzsimons 💚 Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin

🖤 Little & Lion by Brandy Colbert ❤️ My Government Means to Kill Me by Rasheed Newson 💛 Pleasure and Spice by Fiona Zedde 💚 No Gods, No Monsters by Cadwell Turnbull 🖤 The Stars and the Blackness Between Them by Junauda Petrus ❤️ Filthy Animals by Brandon Taylor 💛 The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin 💚 Peaces by Helen Oyeyem 🖤 The Beauty That Remains by Ashley Woodfolk ❤️ Every Body Looking by Candice Iloh 💛 Bingo Love by Tee Franklin, Jenn St-Onge, Joy San 💚 The Heart Does Not Bend by Makeda Silvera

🖤 King and the Dragonflies by Kacen Callender ❤️ By Any Means Necessary by Candice Montgomery 💛 Busy Ain't the Half of It by Frederick Smith & Chaz Lamar Cruz 💚 Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo 🖤 Sin Against the Race by Gar McVey-Russell ❤️ Trumpet by Jackie Kay 💛 Remembrance by Rita Woods 💚 Daughters of Nri by Reni K. Amayo 🖤 You Know Me Well by Nina LaCour ❤️ The Summer of Everything by Julian Winters 💛 Butter Honey Pig Bread by Francesca Ekwuyasi 💚 Gingerbread by Helen Oyeyem

[oldsardens]

Isaac van Duynen - Grapes, peaches and plums in a 'wan-li kraak' porcelain dish and in a wicker basket, a pewter jug and a silver plate, all on a partially draped table in an interior

[lgbtqreads]

What are your five favorite MM YA books set in high school? By the way, you are amazing. Your ability to recommend is astounding. You’re doing great work for promoting reading. Keep up the good work!

Aw, thank you! I try! And hmm, mm YA set in high school... it's funny how many of my fave mm YAs are not, now that I think about it! I wanna say Last Seen Leaving, which I read a long time ago but I'm like 80% sure is set in high school? And I so strongly associate Always the Almost with piano competitions that now I'm second-guessing whether that's set in high school, but I very much loved it!

Anyway, definitely The Wicker King by K. Ancrum, The Passing Playbook by Isaac Fitzsimons, and assuming you're not strictly looking for romance, 1000% Jack of Hearts (and other parts) by Lev Rosen. Aaaand maybe The Art of Starving by Sam J. Miller? Or Autoboyography by Christina Lauren? Or Openly Straight by Bill Konigsberg? I know, I know, I'm great at narrowing things down. (I am also very behind on new books, I am realizing, because I still have to read Robby Weber, Robbie Couch, and James Acker, among others!) Also I am not counting Page Powars The Borrow a Boyfriend Club, because it's not out for a few months, but it is very cute.

[sweetlullabyebye]

Ok so this makes no sense but here are characters from Teen Wolf as quotes from a french poetry book, because I have to know quotes from said french poetry book and none of them are sticking in my head. This whole thing makes no sense feel free to ignore.

Isaac:

L'homme fuit l'asphyxie. L'homme dont l'appétit hors de l'imagination se calfeutre sans finir de s'approvisionner, se délivrera par les mains. (L'Avant-Monde: Argument)

The man flees asphyxiation. The man whose appetite outside of the imagination seals itself off without finishing stocking up, will free himself by the hands. (The Foreworld: Argument)

Stiles:

J'ai rapporté du désespoir un panier si petit, mon amour, qu'on a pu le tresser en osier. (La Compagne du Vannier)

Tout à jamais prit fin. (Le Loriot)

I brought back from despair a basket so small, my love, that it could be woven with wicker. (The Basketmaker's Companion)

Everything ended forever. (The Oriole)

Theo:

Le décolleté diminue les ossements de ton exil, de ton escrime; Tu rends fraîche la servitude qui se dévore le dos; Risée de la nuit, arrête ce charroi lugubre

De voix vitreuses, de départs lapidés.

[...]

Je ne verrai pas tes flancs, ces essaims de faim, se dessécher, s'emplir de ronces; Je ne verrai pas l'empuse te succéder dans ta serre ; Je ne verrai pas l'approche des baladins inquiéter le jour renaissant; Je ne verrai pas la race de notre liberté servilement se suffire. Chimères, nous sommes montés au plateau. [...] L'intime dénouement de l'irréparable. [...] La Femme respire, l'Homme se tient debout. (Le Visage Nuptial)

The neckline diminishes the bones of your exile, of your fencing; You make fresh the servitude that devours its back; Laugh of the night, stop this bleak cartage

Of glassy voices, of stoned departures.

[...] I will not see your sides, these swarms of hunger, dry up, fill with thorns; I will not see the parasite succeed you in your greenhouse; I will not see the approach of the wanderers disturb the renewed day; I will not see the race of our freedom subserviently suffice itself. Chimeras, we went up to the plateau. [...] The intimate outcome of the irremediable. [...] The Woman breathes, the Man stands. (The Bridal Face)

Lydia:

X- Il convient que la poésie soit inséparable du prévisible, mais non encore formulé.

XIII- Fureur et mystère tour à tour le séduisirent et le consumèrent.

XXXII- Le poète ne s'irrite pas de l'extinction hideuse de la mort, mais confiant en son toucher particulier transforme toute chose en laines prolongées.

XLIX- À chaque effondrement des preuves le poète répond par une salve d'avenir.

(Partage Formel)

X- Poetry should be inseparable from the foreseeable, but not yet formulated.

XIII- Fury and mystery one after the other seduced and consumed him.

XXXII- The poet is not irritated by the hideous extinction of death, but confident that his particular touch transforms everything into prolonged wools.

XLIX- At each collapse of the evidence the poet responds with a burst of the future.

(Formal Sharing)

Liam:

40- Discipline, comme tu saignes!

48- Je n'ai pas peur. J'ai seulement le vertige. Il me faut réduire la distance entre l'ennemi et moi.

63- On ne se bat bien que pour les causes qu'on modèle soi-même et avec lesquelles on se brûle en l'identifiant.

92- Tout ce qui a le visage de la colère et n'élève pas la voix.

104- Les yeux seuls sont encore capables de pousser un cri.

219- Brusquement tu te souviens que tu as un visage. Les traits qui en formaient le modelé n'étaient pas tous les traits du chagrin, jadis.

(Les Feuillets d'Hypnos)

40- Discipline, how you bleed!

48- I am not afraid. I only have vertigo. I must close the distance between the enemy and me.

63- We only fight well for the causes that we model ourselves and with which we burn ourselves by identifying it.

92- Anything that has the face of anger and does not raise its voice.

104- Only the eyes are still capable of crying out.

219- Suddenly you remember that you have a face. The features that shaped it were not all the features of grief, before.

(Hypnos' notebooks)

Mason:

83- Le poète, conservateur des infinis visages du vivant. (Feuillets d'Hypnos)

83- The poet, keeper of the infinite faces of the living. (Hypnos' notebooks)

Hayden:

J'étais dans une de ces forêts où le soleil n'a pas accès mais où, la nuit, les étoiles pénètrent pour d'implacables hostilités. (Les Loyaux Adversaires: Pénombre)

I was in one of those forests where the sun does not have access but where, at night, the stars enter for relentless hostilities. (The Loyal Adversaries: Darkness)

Scott:

Glas d'un monde trop aimé, j'entends les monstres qui piétinent sur une terre sans sourire. (Poéme Pulvérisé: Donnerbach Mühle)

La souffrance connaît peu de mots. [...] Songe à la maison parfaite que tu ne verras jamais monter. (J'habite une douleur)

Partout essaime le nouveau mal tolérant. (Pulvérin)

Death knell of a world too loved, I hear the monsters that trample on a land devoid of smile. (Pulverized Poem: Donnerbach Mühle)

Suffering knows few words. [...] Think of the perfect house that you will never see built. (I live in a pain)

The new tolerant evil swarms everywhere. (Pulverized)

Allison:

Rivière trop tôt partie, d'une traite, sans compagnon, Donne aux enfants de mon pays le visage de ta passion. [...] Rivière souvent punie, rivière à l'abandon. [...] Rivière au cœur jamais détruit dans ce monde fou de prison, garde-nous violent et ami des abeilles de l'horizon. (La Fontaine narrative: La Sorgue)

River gone too soon, in one go, without a companion, Give the children of my country the face of your passion. [...] River often punished, river abandoned. [...] River with a heart never destroyed in this crazy world of prison, keep us violent and friend of the bees of the horizon. (The narrative fountain: The Sorgue)

Derek:

Assez creusé, assez miné sa part prochaine. Le pire est dans chacun, en chasseur, dans son flanc. Vous qui n'êtes qu'une pelle que le temps soulève, retournez-vous sur ce que j'aime, qui sanglote à côté de moi, et fracassez-nous, je vous prie, que je meure une bonne fois. (Assez creusé)

Enough dug, enough mined the next part. The worse is in everyone, as a hunter, in their flank. You who are only a shovel lifted by time, turn around on what I love, who sobs beside me, and smash us, I beg you, that I die once and for all. (Enough dug)

Corey:

Dans les rues de la ville il y a mon amour. Peu importe où il va dans le temps divisé. Il n'est plus mon amour, chacun peut lui parler. Il ne se souvient plus; qui au juste l'aima? (Allégeance)

In the streets of the city there is my love. It doesn't matter where he goes in the split time. He is no longer my love, everyone can talk to him. He no longer remembers; who exactly loved him? (Allegiance)

All the quotes are from 'Fureur et Mystère' by René Char btw.

[tinyshe]

Here's week 3 of this year's Healing Retreat! You can find the suggested talks below and all the talks at the bottom of this email :)  We hope they're helpful for you and that they bring you closer to the Lord and His healing love. If you're following along at our recommended pace, these are the presentations for this week... We are praying for you every day. Week Three: Prayer is a Part of Healing with Jake Khym Healing in the Sacraments with Nell O'Leary Being United to God in Redemptive Suffering with Isaac Wicker A Guided Meditation: Praying with the Scriptures with Danielle Bean PLEASE SHARE THIS RETREAT! 

[dailyaudiobible]

11/4/2023 DAB Transcript pt4

So, we have to first acknowledge that a lot of things happen between Abraham and King David writing Psalms. Right, so, Abraham has Isaac. Isaac then sires Jacob and Esau. Jacob's name changes to Israel. He has kids they become the children of Israel. They are enslaved in Egypt, they’re freed from Egypt. They wander in the wilderness, the come into the promised land that is the conquest. We go through generation after generation after generation of Judges and then kingship is introduced into the culture with King Saul, and then comes David. So, a lot happens between the two times Melchizedek is named in the Old Testament. And even though a lot has happened, a lot of ground has been covered in a lot of years have passed, Melchizedek doesn't disappear from their thoughts. Even though he’s only mentioned two times in the Old Testament far apart in history, he’s still being referred to. Why would that be? Why would this obscure event in Abraham's life that refers to an ancient Canaanite king who happen to the be a priest of the most high God, continue forward in the culture extra biblically throughout all the generations all the way down to King David writing a song. So there could be all kinds of explanations but from a scholarship perspective, I think this is what holds the most water. Melchizedek is the first priest named in the Bible and he is a priest of the most high God, King of Salem. In David's time, priests could only come from the tribe of Levi as mandated by the Mosaic law. And yet, Melchizedek was most certainly not a Levite, because Levi hadn't been born yet in Abraham's time, when this incident happened. So, in Abraham's time, there is no Mosaic law because Moses hasn't been born and there are no Levites, because Levi hasn't been born. And yet, Melchizedek is a priest of the most high God. But most definitely not a Levite. But the Bible makes it clear that he’s a king. So, Melchizedek is a priest of the most high God, who is also a king. So, when David writes, Psalm 110 and he pens this song and writes these lyrics under the inspiration of God. A statement is being made. David is to be a priestly king in the order of Melchizedek. So, like Melchizedek was. And it so happens that David is king in Jerusalem, the same city. So, David is a king who is aligned with the priesthood. So, maybe not occupying the office and the function of the Levitical priesthood but nevertheless, the priesthood before God. And this is a bit of a big deal from a theological and from a cultural perspective in David's time because they do have the Torah, they have the Mosaic law and it's the underpinning of their entire society, and priests can only be Levites. And yet, David is to be a priestly king and the way that this can work is that David is being set aside by God, like Melchizedek, in the order of Melchizedek to serve in that role, even though he's from the tribe of Judah and not the tribe of Levi. Okay, so I have to take a small bunny trail that applies directly to this. So, probably the most compelling theological understanding would place us back in the life of Moses. So, we know the story of Moses and you know, his childhood and him being placed in the river in a wicker basket and being raised by Pharaoh's daughter and ending up killing an Egyptian and having to flee for his life and all of this. And the next thing you know, Moses is before a burning bush and God is calling him to set his people free from slavery in Egypt. God is telling him to go, and Moses is resisting.

[hhbridgertonau]

18 - Newfound Delights

Not the chapter you're looking for? Check the Masterlist!

My dearest Dancel,

I shall not apologize for the absence of news. My life in Edengrove has been quite eventful. Everything is new, but there is a strange sense of familiarity. It is as if I have not left our summerhouse in Somersetshire, and yet strained as our marital circumstances have been, I am content, and found purpose in my duties as duchess and wife.

Gabriel is ever the tender gentleman, and in many ways, he reminds me of you and Ergon. Lady Nightbloom has taken her fair share of liberal expressions of Gabriel's character, but who he truly is is a secret and a privilege only I am able to witness. And what joy it is to be married to such a delightful, chaste character. Of course, his usual stoicism and judgmental attitude are ever present in the business, which he holds quite frequently during the day - but when there is nothing left to judge, he is gentile and passionate, as much as he wishes to hide the latter.

I do so wish to tell you more, but I fear a letter will be too short an opportunity. Which is why I invite you and the Stewart family to visit us post haste, by Friday at the latest. I know it has not been long since I left, but I hope you will come.

Ever your starling,

Daleon Driscol

The entirety of Esther Hall was in a delighted uproar in the anticipation of their guests. All throughout the house, footsteps thundered to and fro, carrying materials, decorations, and construction supplies for the upcoming celebration. It was a much different atmosphere compared to when Daleon first arrived, and her worry for being returned to London after her marriage was well past her then. Daleon wondered why she ever feared it at all. Gab had not pushed her away, and they quickly grew accustomed to sharing the same quarters, and living together in general. In response, she became bolder in her advances. She kissed his cheek every morning upon waking or seeing him if he was awake before her. He was understandably apprehensive of them at first, even in private, but she could see how he slowly began to recoil less, and lean more towards her.

And it was in that gradual acceptance of her affection, and the slow reciprocation of it, that she found herself in an unexpected predicament of simultaneous content and discontent. The content came from being able to express her affection once a day; the discontent stemmed from wanting more.

Heaven forbid she started thinking her marriage was beginning to dull so soon (it was not). But lately, on the occasion she closed her eyes, she pictured Gab - beautiful, stunning, and gentle as he was with his affections, doing more than the minimalist reciprocations of her affections. Where could those lips and hands touch? What wonders of their united souls could be uncovered if they were a little more engaging?

But such vulgar thoughts had no place in the mind of a duchess.

The ball served as a good distraction from her wandering implicit thoughts, and the staff shared the sentiment.

"A ball requested by the king is one thing, but his grace has not allowed visitors since his parents’ passing," said Mrs. Warrick. She and Daleon were in the large banquet hall that was to be used for the evening soiree. The flowers had yet to be delivered, but Daleon wanted a head start on the other decorations and party favors.*

"That is only to be expected, Mrs. Warrick," said Daleon proudly. "If I do not take action, Gabriel will only be brooding in his study for the rest of his days. A man of his youth should be enjoying his time with family and acquaintance." They tied lavender ribbons to small wicker baskets woven by some of the craftsmen. "Did the former duchess not hold gatherings?"

"Only a few, your grace," Mrs. Warrick admitted. "There was only a handful before Lady Emily's condition worsened."

"What was her ailment? If I may ask?"

"A sickness in the lungs. There was no cure. Lord Isaac tried everything he could afford." There was a flash of pained nostalgia on the headmistress' face. "It robbed our mistress of her joyful youth, and it was hard for the young master to watch his mother so sick. It hardened him into adulthood so quickly." She passed a few of the finished baskets to a maid before continuing. "I've told him time and time again in the absence of his parents that they would not wish their bright and clever boy to be cooped up in this place in solitude."

Then she turned to Daleon and smiled. "You remind us very much of our late Lady Emily. And we are only so happy to see the young master cared for."

Daleon could only smile modestly, not uttering a word.

"Oh goodness, look at me. My apologies, your grace. I spoke out of turn."

"Nonsense, Mrs. Warrick. I doubt Gabriel would ever confess to me of his past. I am honored."

Speaking of Gab, he marched in, a scowl on his face. "Daleon, why have you purchased multiple large canopy tents? I believed we were only having the soiree in the evening."

"Dear, do try not to frown so much," she said while smoothing the creases between his brows with her fingers. He relaxed under her touch. "You'll age faster. And why can't we have an outside canopy? We'll never know if our guests will arrive early, and they'd have much more fun outside than in. I've purchased pall mall equipment too. Besides, it will establish your reputation for the better by being a welcoming host."

"You mean our reputation," he picked up a basket and inspected it mindlessly. "Which is all well." He sighed, still reluctant at the idea of having guests.

She hung her head to hide her flushed face. "Our earlier guests should be arriving soon," she said.

"Ah, yes. More people to parade on my quiet recluse."

"They're our family."

"I'm not against them coming,"

"Except for Fauta, I presume."

"He knows no tact and is sure to try and make advances on the maids, if not you. It has happened before."

She tried to play coy. Though in truth, she was elated at Gabriel's words. "Well, in that case, I shall gladly glue myself to your side."

"I do not believe that will improve things, but I would want you to stay close to me as much as possible."

Now, she could no longer hide the smile on her face. It grew on her more and more until she was smiling silly and she wanted to let out a squeal of glee.

"To protect you from Fauta," Gab reasoned against the evident redness of his own face. "Stop smiling."

She pressed the back of her hand to her lips to hide it, but it was too late. She did not think in her lifetime that a man several years her age could be so darling, and her heart swelled at the notion that he was her husband.

"Leave us," he suddenly commanded. Mrs. Warrick clapped her hands, stopping the servants from their decorating, and quickly fled the ballroom, closing the doors on their way out. Gab bit his lip, clearly displeased.

Daleon's smile disappeared. "I'm sorry," she said. "I did not mean to embarrass you."

"Be that as it may. I meant what I said. I don't want him near you." He reached out his hand, brushed his knuckles over her cheek, and held it there.

She swallowed, trying to control her breathing and rapidly beating heart. "I shall be on my guard."

A knock came at the doors. It opened, and in popped the head of a maid. The couple pulled away instantly, discreetly straightening their clothes. "Your grace, there is a carriage outside."

A dark and brooding carriage rolled up on the front steps of Esther Hall. Dancel and Peggy stepped down, and Daleon ran to embrace them both. "Where is Ergon?" she asked.

'"He does not wish to be disturbed," Dancel replied. "He has informed me of where he is, but has instructed me not to tell you or anyone else. He wishes you well."

To think Ergon would ever deny himself the opportunity to see her. "For all our time together as siblings, this may be the first where I am unable to decipher his intentions." She stopped herself from shedding a tear. "Has my marriage to Gabriel truly made him so distraught?"

"He has always hoped that you would stay with him forever."

"I know that," she said, rubbing her hands to keep herself from worrying. "I only wish I could solace him now and make him understand. We don't have to be apart just because I'm married. We are still—"

"I assure you starling, he is safe." Dancel took her hands and held them. "He will return when he is ready to face you. Give him time."

She nodded, squeezed his hands in return, and thought to change the subject. "But what of you now?"

Dancel smiled. "I am not alone. Zaheer has always been great company, as is Peggy when he is not hiding in his home and writing his book. And Roush calls on me almost every day."

Over his shoulder, Daleon saw Roush emerge from the carriage, smiling and tipping his hat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Peggy frown.

Lord Ainsworth and Fauta arrived a few minutes later, just in time for tea. They arranged for a table under the canopy of one of the newly purchased tents. Sandwiches and biscuits, scones with clotted cream, petit fours and Victoria sponges were stacked neatly on tiered trays accompanied by citrus tea brewing in pots. The scent put everyone at ease as they gathered around. Fall was almost upon them, and the leaves in the trees began to change their hue.

"Never in a million years did I imagine both of our families to share a table," said Ainsworth with a laugh. He began to look worse for wear, and it should have been with the news of Jellie being sent to Lairvania to meet with Prince Lakas, and as much as Ainsworth wished to be with his precious granddaughter, his weary bones would not last the trip, and Mika therefore was absent from their gathering in Ainsworth's place.

"It is all very exciting, isn't it?" he continued. "But surely you did not invite us here simply to have tea.” He shifted in his seat, turning towards Daleon.

“Does the lady of the house have something to say?"

She did not know whether to praise the older gentleman for his keenness, but the looks from the other men at the table were oddly expectant of her. Perhaps because she was the only lady at the table, but she had not an inkling of what they wished to hear from her.

"Well, I suppose I shall tell you," she said, oblivious to their expectations. "The king has requested a ball to be held in his honor. I invited all of you here a little early, to settle in ahead of the other guests we had planned."

She reached her hand out to Gab's. He took it instantly. "And I know it has only been a short window of time, but I wanted Gab and I to see our families again.”

A cacophony of sighs escaped their guests; some relieved, some disappointed. Daleon pretended not to notice.

Fauta raised his cup, gazing at the couple. "In other words, you have not consummated your marriage, have you?"

Gab nearly choked on his tea, spurting some before a fit of violent coughing. Tea spilled from his cup, and Daleon quickly wiped it with a napkin. A maid came to assist.

When things were sorted, Gab sat down and glared at the viscount. "I have only been married a little over a week," he pointed out. Daleon tried to calm him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Gabriel,”

"And even if we had, did it not once cross your mind that she- we would not be expecting such a thing?"

"A week is too long if you ask me,” said Fauta. “You have the diamond of your season as your wife."

"By circumstance!" Gab glanced at her, eyes flickering as he realized what his words may have implied. "Pleasant circumstance. That does not concern you."

The other guests glared at him with disdain. Dancel and Ainsworth especially. Their icy glares almost matched.

"Indeed, it doesn't." Fauta slunk slightly into his seat, sipping the rest of his tea in silence.

"My married life will remain private, and that is all I will say on the matter." Gab was inconsolable at this stage. He clicked his tongue. "Keith,"

The valet approached the table.

"Have the archery range set up. I need to clear my head."

Gab set his tea down with a loud clack, stood up and marched in the direction of the courtyard, west of Esther Hall.

Daleon glared at Fauta, baffled by his audacity, however she was still rather confused by what had transpired. Their marriage was an imperfect subject to discuss, that much was certain. Had she been wrong to believe that it was? No. Gab was more important. Shaking her head, she thought to go after Gab, but Ainsworth stopped her.

"Your grace, might I ask if you would take me further into the gardens?" he said. "There is someone I wish to see."

She looked at him, puzzled. “Who?”

Ainsworth offered Daleon his arm, and together they ventured a little ways ahead from their party. He picked a few daisies along the many rows of blooms, gathering them into a small bouquet.

“I should assume his grace has shown you around?”

“Not the full extent of the gardens, my lord,” she confessed. “But even from the windows upstairs, I can very well see their splendor.”

“Well, I pray my memory is not too faulty, but there is something of significance just by that willow tree.”

Daleon had seen the tree, but she always found its placement odd. From the higher floors, one could see how it stood askew from the rest of the garden. The garden centered around the tree, and the decorative flora stemmed from it as if it were the core of its beauty. Its massive boughs, ominous yet serene, beckoned them closer. Its long tendrils of leaves were perfectly parted, like an entryway into another world. When they neared, Daleon saw stone piercing through the root - a gravestone, and engraved upon it were the names Emily Stewart Driscol and Isaac Driscol.

Despite his wearying age, Ainsworth knelt, and offered the daisies, simply letting them stand on the moss-covered stone. He offered a quick prayer, crossed himself, and stood.

“You must forgive Gabriel for his outburst, and Fauta too for his…spontaneity.”

Daleon approached the stone, gingerly running her fingers along the curves. She thought to send for a servant to clean it. “On the contrary, I think it shows how close they are.”

“Most of my nieces and nephews bore singletons. We agreed it best to bring them all together so they could view each other as brothers and sisters. But Gabriel always preferred his own company, or rather, he preferred the company of adults.” He smiled fondly in memory. “He always used to say we had more interesting conversations, but Emily always said he never understood a word.”

She thought it sad to hear stories about Gab from other people. It was certainly not a crime or something to find flaw in. However; “I do so wish he would be a little more open with me. I want to know what he thinks of me, if I am making him happy…”

Another thought crossed her mind.

“My lord, I find it incredibly ludicrous to ask you something, despite our very brief connections,”

“My child, you may ask me anything.”

“I suppose these words may not fully be credible considering they’re Fauta’s but, what did he mean by ‘consummating a marriage’?”

Ainsworth did not react, though his gaze showed him pondering how to respond.

“Marriage is the physical and spiritual binding between man and woman,” he said. “When you married in church, that completed the spiritual binding. Consummating the marriage is the physical part of it.” His eyes twitched a little, and Daleon did not know if he was unnerved or mortified.

“It is not as easy as I make it sound. Some consummate their marriage on the night of their wedding, but others take their time. Do not doubt Gabriel’s love for you. It is there. It has only chosen to manifest itself differently.”

She worried her bottom lip. “And what if we do not consummate our marriage?’

“That,” he gave her a knowing smile. “Is something you must ask your husband.”

As Daleon tried to fathom what any of it meant, she wondered: had Fauta presented her with an opportunity or a conundrum that could threaten her marriage?

[kheelcenter]

"Triangle Factory Owners found Not Guilty" -- #OnThisDay December 27, 1911 after a 23-day trial, Isaac Harris and Max Blanck, "Shirtwaist Kings", who owned the Triangle Factory, are found not guilty of Murder in the death of 146 workers. The task of the jurors had been to determine whether the owners knew that the doors were locked at the time of the fire. Customarily, the only way out for workers at quitting time was through an opening on the Green Street side, where all pocketbooks were inspected to prevent stealing. Worker after worker testified to their inability to open the doors to their only viable escape route, the stairs to the Washington Place exit, because the Greene Street side stairs were completely engulfed by fire. More testimony supported this fact. Yet the brilliant defense attorney Max Steuer planted enough doubt in the jurors' minds to win a not-guilty verdict. Grieving families and much of the public felt that justice had not been done. "Justice!" they cried. "Where is justice?" Twenty-three individual civil suits were brought against the owners of the Asch building. On March 11, 1914, three years after the fire, Harris and Blanck settled. They paid 75 dollars per life lost. In August of 1913, Max Blanck was charged with locking one of the doors of his factory during working hours. Brought to court, he was fined twenty dollars, and the judge apologized to him for the imposition. In December of 1913, the interior of his factory was found to be littered with rubbish piled six feet high, with scraps kept in non-regulation, flammable wicker baskets. This time, instead of a court appearance and a fine, he was served a stern warning. The Triangle Waist Company was to cease operations in 1918, but the owners maintained throughout that their factory was a "model of cleanliness and sanitary conditions," and that it was "second to none in the country." Pictured: Max Blanck and Isaac Harris, Triangle Waist Company owners in a group portrait, possibly with Triangle factory workers and visitors. #5780P #ILGWU #Whoisguilty #TriangleFire #LaborHistory #CornellUniversity #ILR #CornellRAD #KheelCenter

[miidnighters]

Isaac lets out a bit of a laugh, at that. "A bit of both. I was in the city for college, and I go back every so often for stuff to do with the business that I can't do from here. But also I'm just really proficient in tree knowledge. I minored in agronomy." If she doesn't know what that is, he's not worried. Most people don't. He just considers it more interesting than the major in business.

They get to the porch, and he gestures to the wicker seats. "Make yourself comfortable - I'll grab the drinks and be right back." Assuming that she will, he ducks inside and grabs one of the bottles of cider they'd sealed and a pair of glasses before making his way back outside.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I actually caught your name."

IT'S UNDENIABLY CUTE, THE WAY THAT HE LOOKS AT THE WORLD. Kennedy often feels like she knows it all, has seen it all. It must be nice to find something new every day.

She follows him through the gate, up to the house. She gets the feeling that she's in a painting.

"Do you get out to the city much, then? Or are you just—" How to put this...."Really proficient in tree knowledge?"

[goldenboywrites]

don’t let the lion sleep

He slouched back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, wishing he was anywhere but here. Well, not anywhere. He knew where he wanted to be. He wanted to be in Isaac’s dorm where Milo was. Lounging around and hanging out with his boyfriend. It was embarrassing that he was jealous of a fucking kitten. But that kitten was with Isaac and Apollo was...here. 

Here was his family’s manor. Maddox manor as cold as ever. It didn’t feel like home to him. It never had been home. Home was with Isaac. His home was warm, filled with plants, a sleeping cat, and soft music playing in the background. And he hated that he was away from it. He hated that he was away from Isaac and forced to sit here with her. 

Her nails tapped on the table and Apollo closed his eyes with a soft sigh. It had been rather different to explain the abruptness of him leaving university to Isaac. So he didn’t. Apollo panicked and just dropped the kitten off while Isaac was at class and then he left the campus. He couldn’t very well explain that his father was requesting him to come home for a few days to discuss wedding plans. Apollo was actually surprised for once that he was included. So far neither family requested his sour presence for this sort of thing. They were planning the whole fucking thing without him. Which was what he preferred honestly.. 

“Do you think you’ll ever be happy with me? That one day you might love me?” 

Apollo was taken back by the question but kept his face neutral. He turned and looked at her. Her hair was brown, long, and straight. Completely different from Isaac’s brown curls. He tried to imagine himself running his fingers through her hair and it didn’t give him the thrill he usually got when he did it to Isaac. Their eyes met. Her pale blue eyes didn’t have the warmth in them as Isaac's hazel ones did. She didn’t look at him with love and maybe that was his fault for never giving her a chance but her gaze didn’t excite him the way Isaac’s did. His gaze shifted down to her hands, small and fragile, and nothing compared to Isaac’s strong grip or his long, thin fingers as they practiced spellwork. It wasn’t fair to compare the two. She would never stand a chance against Isaac. It wasn’t possible. Maybe he could develop a fondness for her but he would never love her. He would never be happy with her. Maybe his mistake all along was not telling her the truth. He had always assumed she knew or guessed but it was completely possible that she truly didn’t know. 

“I’m gay.” 

It felt funny coming out of his mouth and Apollo realized that it was the first time he had ever admitted that outloud. It felt good to say it. To own it. But then he looked at her face and saw her expression. Confusion. Anger. Sadness. And then back to the cold, neutral expression he was used to. Apollo inhaled deeply and watched as she ran her hand over the magic scar on her forearm. He found himself mirroring his actions. A reminder of the unbreakable promise. And it was then that he realized how selfish he had been. Her life was on the line too. It wasn’t just him. He couldn’t love her. He didn’t want to be with her. It was their death sentence. Not just his. 

“I’ve been pretending my whole life.” He finally broke the silence between them and she shook her head slowly. “To be someone I’m not. Someone that my father is proud of. For a while it was worth it. I thought I could bury who I was and be who he wanted me to be.” She was looking down at her lap and he heard a tiny sniffle. “And maybe if things were different I could have continued on with the charade. I think if things had been different I would have been fond of you. Maybe even love you but I would never be fully happy and I could never be in love with you.” 

He inhaled slowly and felt a heaviness in his chest. He didn’t know her that well but he knew that what he was saying was devastating to her. He knew what was coming next and he felt guilty for putting her through this. For so long he made her the enemy in this story. Her and his father. But her life was on the line too. Her future was being decided along with his. They weren’t enemies...they should have been a team. 

“You should know there’s someone. Someone at University that I’m in love with. I’m planning on spending the rest of my life with him until the vow comes for me. I hope you can understand that I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of pretending. I can’t do it anymore.” He reached for her hand and at first she pulled away but then placed her small hand in his. He squeezed it and she looked up at him. “You should find someone who can really love you and give you the life you deserve while you can. Just fuck off and live however you want to while you’ve got the chance.” 

“I don’t care that you’re gay.” Her words were soft and fragile. She glanced up at him and tried to smile. She really was kind and it was in that moment that he wished they had been friends. “I guess I always had a feeling. You were always so angry and upset about the arrangement and now thinking back to our time at Hogwarts you were never with anyone. I just wish it hadn’t come to this. We made an unbreakable vow, Apollo. If you had told me sooner I could have helped you. But I don’t want to die. And if you love someone the way you say you do then I know you don’t want to either. Can’t we just...get married and you can live your life and I can live mine? We put on a show for our parents. There isn’t one option for us. We can work together. You should have trusted me with this a long time ago.” 

His eyes widened and he leaned back in his chair. Apollo was blown away at her response. He had been so wrapped up in his own quiet rebellion that he didn’t ever think she would want to help him or even be willing to. But she was. Maybe...maybe this could work. Maybe there was an alternative route that didn’t result in him dying from breaking the vow.

Maybe…

But…

His gaze fell to his lap and he twisted his fingers nervously. Isaac didn’t know about her, about the vow. They had been together for almost half a year at his point and he had never said anything to him. It was too late now. If he told Isaac about his engagement he would view it as a betrayal. Apollo would lose him and a life without Isaac wasn’t a life he could handle. 

“You haven’t told him?” It came out like a question but he knew it wasn’t. It was all over his face. The guilt of what he had done to himself, to her, but mostly to Isaac. 

Apollo tugged his top lip between his teeth and chewed on it nervously. When he really thought about what he had done he felt like a piece of shit. How could he sleep next to Isaac every fucking night knowing that he was engaged...had been engaged the entire time and never told Isaac? 

“You have to tell him, Apollo!” She leaned over and smacked his arm. “If you love him as much as you say you do, you have to tell him.”

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed out loud. “I know, I know.” He was scared but he didn’t want to admit that. Terrified actually. He didn’t think he could survive without Isaac. Not anymore. 

“I’ll help you. If you promise to trust me. I’ll do what I can if you promise me that you’ll work with me. You’re not alone so stop acting like it. We can get through this alive and we can still have the lives we deserve so stop fighting this war alone. If you want to go back to university go ahead. I’ll cover for you with your parents but for Merlin’s sake tell your fucking boyfriend about this so we’re all on the same page. We’ll have to be if we’re going against both of our parents…”

She was right and he hated that. He felt nauseous and sick at the thought of going back to Isaac and telling him his secret. He didn’t think that his boyfriend would forgive him but he knew it was the right thing to do. 

He stood up and leaned over, kissing her lightly on the top of her head.

“Thank you.” Another set of words that felt funny coming off of his lips.

“I want to meet him. After you tell him and he’s not upset. I’d like to get to know you too. Friends?” Her hand slid in his and he squeezed her fingers.

“Friends.”

He straightened up and walked around his bedroom, collecting the things he needed in order to return to University. When he had his bag in his hand, Apollo walked to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder. 

“Apollo?” He turned around in the fireplace and looked at her. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

He opened his mouth to thank her but out of the corner of his eye he saw his father standing behind his bedroom door. The door was a few inches opened. His eyes were filled with anger the same anger they were the first time he caught Apollo with a boy in his bed. His heart sped up. Nothing is wrong with you. Nothing is wrong with you. He couldn’t control his breathing. He heard us. He knows. And just when he thought he was one step ahead, Apollo realized he was actually fifteen steps back. He whispered his location, the word coming out muffled and shaky. He didn’t know what his father would do to her. Maybe if he hadn’t been a coward he would have stayed to help her but he didn’t. 

The green flames engulfed his body and he blinked once and found himself standing in the fireplace of Isaac’s dorm. Pale and shaky, eyes wide with fear. He didn’t say anything. What could he say? He fucked up. He fucked up. He fucked up. He stumbled out of the fireplace, gasping for air. He couldn’t focus and he couldn’t stop. His chest felt like it was tightening and he clutched at it. Apollo fell to his knees and he heard Isaac in the background rush to him but he sounded far away and everything started looking fuzzy. His forehead was sweaty and his throat felt thick. Part of him expected his father to follow him through the floo but he knew it was impossible due to the wards he set on both of their dorms when Isaac had been in class. 

How much had he heard? How long had he been standing there? He knew. He knew everything Apollo had said. He knew that she was going to help him. He knew about Isaac. He was going to come for him...for them. He fucked up. He fucked up. He fucked up. He was going to lose everything because he had trusted someone else to help him. His father always won. When would Apollo finally accept that?

His heart was racing and as much as he tried to calm down he couldn’t. The ice cold fear that gripped his entire body and mind had too much of a hold on him. Isaac was kneeling next to him, trying to calm him but Apollo couldn’t stop. He reached for his bag, just out of his grip. “B-b-b-bag,” He muttered out through heavy puffs of air. Isaac brought the bag within his grip and he fumbled with the zipper before he just ripped it fucking opened. He grabbed around for Cass’ potion. He didn’t care that Isaac could see it. Apollo didn’t stop to think. He remembered Cass’ warning. Only two drops. Maybe three when you build up a tolerance to it. He couldn’t...handle this right now. He couldn’t stop gasping for breath and Apollo wanted it all to stop for awhile. With trembling fingers, he popped the cork off. Half a vial left. He didn’t think, he just took it. It fell from his hand and with a click everything went into slow motion.

Apollo’s breathing turned slow and steady. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or not but when he reached up, his fingertips grazed his long lashes and he blinked rapidly before laughing. He rolled onto his back and his eyes found the ceiling. Colors and crystals were growing out of it. The plants were talking to him. Whispering words in another language. Isaac was there at his side. He was grabbing his face and shaking him. Apollo laughed and tried to catch Isaac’s fingers with his mouth. He didn’t feel anything yet he felt everything. And he didn’t care. He was happy. He was happy and free for the time being. What had he been so sad about before? He couldn’t remember. The plants told him not to remember…

He was somewhere where his father couldn’t find him. 

He laughed and laughed and laughed. And hoped he felt his way forever.

[accio-rpg]

Twenty-Five ★ Slytherin ★ Halfblood

“Oh, who can take tomorrow, dip it in a dream, separate the sorrow and collect up all the cream, the candy man.”

Gender: Cisgender Male Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Pansexual / Demisexual

This character is 1/8 veela and will require additional expertise to play.

Character Features:

Calls the Golden Coast home. Whipping up chocolate morsels late into the night. Recipes tweaked when asked. Proper dressing to impress. Skillful in the mastering of sugar work. Tongue as slick as the devil himself, or so he’s been told. Tightly bound sexual energy, used more so to his advantage than not. Messy hook-ups in the kitchen. Laughing at inappropriate times and places. Mermaid scale delights are a trademark piece. Coffee brewing eases the mind and soul. Heavily influenced by Malodora and muggle sugar workers. Surfing to chill the mind and keep the body. Gentle curls on the brow no matter how hard he tries to keep them tamed.

☀ Diplomatic ☀ Audacious ☀ Charismatic

☁ Tempestuous ☁  Hard ☁ Cavalier

Character Aesthetic:

Sugar crystals ⚬ Leather bound ledger ⚬ Quill behind the ear ⚬ Late, late nights ⚬ French press coffee ⚬ Half smoked cigarettes ⚬ Molding chocolate ⚬  Whiskey neat ⚬ Typography ⚬ Silk ⚬ Vegemite toast ⚬ Quirked brow

♜ Wand: Pliant 12″ cherry with veela hair core. ♜ Patronus: Blackbird ♜ Boggart: Teeth falling out of a giant mouth. ♜ Amortentia: Coffee, Mint Leaf, Cherry Tart, Charred Wood

Studying: Majoring in high charms with a minor in business management.

Common Locations: Aerie Peak Lounge, Slytherin Dorms, Great Skate, Hogsmeade Post Office, Magic Neep

Faceclaim: Hale Appleman

[ellestra]

New lives

Kady is Sam Cunningham, the detective

Margo is Janet Pluchinsky, the fashion editor

Josh is Isaac Karamov, the driver

Penny is DJ Hansel

Julia is Kimber D’Antoni, the new Brakebills student

Quentin is Brian, the professor

And Eliot used to be Nigel, bastard son of a British lord, before The Monster wore him

[the-fiction-witch]

Grown up Halloween day 2 sexy pizza rat

Media irl

Character Isaac Hempstead Wright

Couple Isaac X Reader

Rating sexy ish?

Halloween day 2

"Isaac!" I heard y/n call from the living room

"Yes my love?" I called back finishing the washing up

"Can I borrow you?"

"Will I be returned?"

"Yes"

"In the same condition I was borrowed in?"

"Yes"

"Are you willing to pay a security deposit?"

"Get your butt in here Isaac before I shove a pencil in your penis"

"Coming my love" I chuckled drying my hand and going into the living room where she sat on her laptop so I sat down beside her giving her a big kiss "what am I required for? You forgot your Amazon password again?"

"No, I wanted your help with something very important"

"Oh?"

"I need to pick a costume for the Halloween party at Lizzie's"

"Ohhhh right so what do you need me for?"

"I can't decide"

"Oh? Well I'm happy to help my cute girl pick her Halloween costume" I smiled giving her a cuddle "give me some options then"

"sexy Police officer?"

"Oooh… I think you'll be a bit cold" 

"Sexy Nurse"

"Again. Cold. And… that's a lot of leg for a nurse. Feel like you'd give people heart attacks you walked into a hospital like that"

"Sexy devil"

"I like that, cool cape if your cold you could wrap yourself up in your cape plus you could do like alot of cool make up for that I think" 

"Sexy fairy"

"Ohh that is… busy"

"I thought that"

"That's a no from me"

"Okay sexy maid"

"That is a sex outfit. Like they sell that in Anne summers"

"Ohh grow up Isaac, sexy school girl"

"So your a sexy twelve year old"

"Point taken sexy girl scout"

"Sexy seven year old"

"Sexy teacher"

"That's a porn star. One hundred percent I have seen porn where that was the outfit"

"Have you now Isaac"

"Don't judge me you where on holiday"

"Sexy firefighter"

"Ohh god that looks so cold." 

"Sexy lumberjack"

"That's just fireman without the hat"

"Sexy corn on the cob"

"That would only work of you wore yellow tights and carried popcorn around to throw at people"

"Sexy dragon"

"This seems offensive. Chinese dragons are beautiful that's just a lady in hot pants again"

"Sexy goldfish"

"That's hilarious but only for the pure obserdity" I laughed "but again pants needed"

"Sexy watermelon"

"That's just a defective watermelon dress that they had cuts in and redid to look like a bite"

"Sexy racoon"

"Why is she wearing thigh highs with fishnets"

"That's your question?"

"I'm not addressing the rest of this"

"Sexy fortune cookie"

"Again that feels offensive"

"Sexy hacker"

"That's just one of those long hoodies"

"Sexy cheerleader"

"Again sexy sixteen year old and…. Does that say daddy as the team name?"

"It does"

"I may throw up"

"Sexy french fries"

"That's funny but the arm bands are weird"

"Sexy carrot"

"The that's so cheap. You could do carrots really well just not with a cheap dress"

"Sexy etcha sketch"

"Does it work?"

"No"

"That's not fun"

"Sexy bubblegum"

"Really?"

"Sexy bear"

"Ohh no I'm getting wicker Man flash backs"

"Sexy cat in the hat"

"Nope"

"Sexy Chinese take out container?"

"Again that feels offensive"

"It's not as bad as some of them"

"Like what?"

"Sexy native American"

"Ohh that's so cheap and offensive"

"Sexy tequila girl"

"Again very offensive"

"Sexy geisha"

"Oh. Oh no. No. They didn't? You just made and tiny kimono. That's so very offensive geishas work so hard they are a beautiful art form."

"Your mad at sexy geisha"

"Very!" 

"Sexy pizza rat?"

"Okay that's amazing, it's so dumb I love it. And you have those pizza leggings! If you don't go as pizza rat I will"

"Ooohh sexy voodoo doll"

"Admittedly that's cool"

"I'm going for voodoo doll"

"Fine, then I may steal your leggings and be a pizza rat" 

[tinyshe]

It's been a week since The Pray More Healing Retreat was released and we wanted to check in with links to the retreat materials (scroll down) and the suggested talks for this week. If you're following along at our recommended pace, these are the presentations for this week... We hope they're helpful for you and that they bring you closer to the Lord and His healing love. We are praying for you every day. Week Two: The Healing Jesus Desires for You with Nell O'Leary How to Heal and Restore Our Identity with Jake Khym How God Sees You with Isaac Wicker Finding Rest in Prayer with Danielle Bean

PLEASE SHARE THIS RETREAT! 

+++

[Week One: How to Hear God's Voice in Prayer with Nell O'Leary Rediscovering the Father through Jesus with Jake Khym He Has a Plan: The Lord is Trustworthy with Danielle Bean Encountering God's Healing Love with Isaac Wicker]