#jesus h christ i’m holding on for a prayer right now

[frothingatthemaw]

me when i watch pretty man serve LOOKS after having a trainwreck of a day

[localartinstallation]

..…oh, God, hear the words from my mouth’ three times, then rinse”

happy sabbath everypony, this is elyse coming back at ya through the digital wave space via this digital surfboard i’m riding on! the long awaited ocd tumblr blog is here xD

much like matthew h. watson of “SUPERMEGA” fame i, too, have what one might call obsessively compulsive behaviors constricted/fueled by bedridden anxieties, religious upbringings, and a series of unfortunate events. this…thing (hereto i shall now start referring to as “ocd” for convenience) brought me closer to God, while simultaneously making that relationship a lot more circumstantial. which, if you didn’t know, is an *unhealthy relationship*. one of the most unhealthy aspects of this having ocd with religion, among other things, is the practice of prayer. totally personally, the way my brain processes the concept of prayer is as follows:

address your God.

use “thees and thous”, since that’s the most powerful language to use when talking to God…according to this book i found, as everyone has always spoken good king’s english, especially totally verifiable prophets.

repeat words or phrases that have been previously established within widely accepted prayers, which you have observed through life e.g. “no harm or accident will come to them”, and the like. because those are the sorts of prayers God has been proven to understand and grant, so failure for this part of the prayer is unlikely; even if God couldn’t accept the other parts of my prayer. at the very least “no harm accident will come to them” is a tried and true tactic. (as if prayer is a battlefield, and i strategize conversation with an all powerful; all loving being).

definitely-maybe try to have an actual conversation with your God, saying thank u & how much u love Them etc etc…but you’re probably not worthy of conversing with such a great thing—and so u put the actual possibility of a productive and truly nice prayer on hold since you might’ve opened your eyes or not knelt down properly—dropping your worthiness points with Heavenly Father :(

“In the Name of Jesus Christ, Amen!” (other variations of this prayer must include “Jesus Christ”, lest it return to sender).

sounds like a pretty fun time, right? also, JEHOVAH totally said that HE *really* wants u to go through this process about as many times a day as u can!

so…i may have felt quite guilty whenever i found myself not enjoying a prayer. and maybe just going to bed without thinking about my eternal existence for a night was alright, but that’s not a holy thought, so—what do i do?—i turn to prayer to make up for it…rinse and repeat for the rest of your life!

oh yeah…there is this other thing though, this ritual, that works 100% of the time in removing 100% of your sin. Jesus called it baptism, and we do the whole thing before you can get into any real trouble…

…oh, you dont remember that? huh…God really boinked us on this one didn’t They? 

…

holy shit, you remember that book i found!? Jesus actually says there’s an official way to pray. and this one is out of the mouth of JC Himself, too, saying…(Mathew 6:7-14) “When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. Pray then in this way: ‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And do not bring us to the time of trial, but rescue us from the evil one.’ For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” okay so…Jesus kinda knew what He was talking about…and there is sort of a word or phrase you can follow that guarantees 100% coverage of all possible scenarios your mind could ever conjure up; even the ones that you might have forgotten in some conversational prayer you might’ve had, leading some some sort of ocd…

of course, still pending the fact that you must forgive everybody or else God can’t forgive you, rendering the entire prayer invalid; nonetheless, 100% of this ocd stuff is covered by what might be the most valuable part of this scripture, to me, anyway……"for your Father knows what you need before you ask him”. i feel touched enough by how insane of an actual promise that is to actually believe it. and so, with the assumption that a God who must be all loving knows me pretty well, i tried it out. while i do not have a perfect memory, to the best of my current ability, i have made many amends and have forgiven all who wrong me. wherefore, i’m soooo worthy enough for this “Lord’s Prayer”.

its been about a month since i started frequently trying to memorize and attempt to use the lord’s prayer, and the results are interesting. perhaps this good feeling some might call “joy”, is due to being properly medicated for the first time, but isn’t that an act of God in its own way? in the end, whenever i feel like i need or should be praying, doing the lord’s prayer is a good starting point to actually remove enough of this ocd before considering if i actually need to do a big ol’ prayer. this has opened me up to have much more productive prayers, instead of praying, simply because of anxiety.

so what did we learn? ocd sucks so much ass, and religion rewards the absolute FUCK out of it. but doing the lord’s prayer has kind of helped a lot…so maybe try it out or find something like that for your own stupid lil’ head <3. super easy, right??

(maybe the weird rituals we learn are for the friends we find along the way)

anyway, let me eat u :3

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

Always Darkest

“And blessed (happy, to be envied) is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of the things that were spoken to her from the Lord.” Luke 1:45AMPC

Mary, a little girl, thirteen to fifteen years of age, had absolutely no idea what she walking into when she spoke those faith filled words of Luke 1:38AMPC “…Behold, I am the handmaiden of the Lord; let it be done to me according to what you have said…” She was one gutsy, full of faith girl. My mind doesn’t even wrap totally around her faith and submission. Does yours?

Here I am a grown woman who has a Bible to read. I know the end of this story— Jesus, Son of God, Son of woman, Lord over all. His birth put Him in the position of fulfilling every scripture prophecy ever written about Him; accomplishing the entire will of God the Father; becoming the first-born from the dead bringing many others with Him. There is N O T H I N G beyond His power, scope or reach—NOTHING! Knowing all this; is my faith as great as this teenager named Mary? Do I believe I have already received it by faith?

What promise has God made to each of us individually that we’re holding onto? Something we’re very close to letting slip away because the struggle has been so long and so hard?

This faith-struggle-promise I’m holding onto is twelve years of believing for it today, on Lou and I’s number 54 anniversary. Actually, part of the promise and struggle came before Lou’s condition— which has become primary. Those years of prayers and promises are for the fulfillment of healing and serving the Lord together will follow suit. With healing not manifesting in my natural eyesight is it because my faith in God is lacking? Romans 3:3-4BSB “What if some did not have faith? Will their lack of faith nullify God’s faithfulness? Certainly not! Let God be true and every man a liar. As it is written: “So that You may be proved right when You speak and victorious when You judge.” I believe it’s already mine. The rest is His part.

Many years ago now, I settled my beliefs. Like Mary believed she would receive the “fulfillment of the things that were spoken to her,” I believe. I came to a conscious choice back then, I’d turn to no other than Yahweh believing, because, “…Lord, to whom shall we go? You [alone] have the words of eternal life [You are our only hope]” John 6:68AMP.

There’s an old saying— ‘It’s always darkest before the dawn.’ There’s much truth to that saying. Everything I’ve ever received from God looked like it wasn’t coming, until it arrived. He is faithful Who made the promise. It’s here whether I see it today or tomorrow.

Can you wait? Hang on? Persevere? Even when it’s at the ‘always darkest’ point? It’s your choice. You choose.

LET’S PRAY: Holy God You are faithful and true. You never fail. Hold us as we hold onto You as we await Your promise, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2023 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Present from Mukami [PART 1]

ー The scene starts in Yui’s bedroom

Yui: Today’s Christmas Eve, huh...?

( When I was still living with Father, we were always extremely busy during this time of year with preparations for the Christmas Mass. )

( We would decorate the church for the Mass...or make tons of sweets to hand out to the children as gifts... )

( Somehow that feels like part of a distant past now... )

Haah...

ー Kou enters the room

Kou: Heya~! M-neko-chan~!

Yui: ...Kou-kun?

Kou: No need to act so surprised, right? What’s wrong? You seem kind of down?

Yui: Um, could you please knock on the door before entering? I’d really appreciate it...

Kou: Eh~~? Why bother going through the extra trouble?

Besides, I live here, remember? My house, my rules, no?

Yui: H-Hm...That might be the case, but...

( I have a feeling he won’t understand... )

So, why are you here? Is there anything you need from me...?

Kou: Hm~~? I only came to hang out because I was bored~

Yui: I see. Are you off from work today?

Kou: Exactly! Today’s my first free day in a long time!

Anyway, more importantly, M-neko-chan. You were talking about how it’s Christmas Eve today earlier...Right?

Yui: Yeah...I had a bit of an ‘oh, right!’ moment.

Kou: ‘Oh, right’...? You’re talking as if you only just noticed.

Yui: Yeah...But I really did recall only now. It totally slipped my mind...

Kou: To think you’d forget about such an important event! Is everything okay, M-neko-chan?

Yui: I mean, you guys don’t celebrate Christmas, do you?

Kou: Hmー Well, we’re Vampires after all. We obviously don’t feel like celebrating it, nor are we interested.

Yui: ...Figured as much. There aren’t any Christmas decorations inside the house either...

Besides, I haven’t gone out much as of late either...

Kou: Now that you mention it, you’ve just been going back and forth between here and school without making any additional stops, huh?

If you were to head out, you’d discover that the whole city is in a Christmas mood. 

There really is no way to look past it, whether you like it or not...

Yui: Yeah, but I haven’t gotten a chance to go look...So I completely forgot...

Kou: Hmー...

Ah, say, M-neko-chan? How have you spent your Christmas Eve in the past?

Yui: Eh...?

Kou: I mean, I don’t know how normal families celebrate the holidays.

Yui: Hm...Right. My personal experience might be a little different from the standard though.

Kou: Heeh? In what way?

Yui: You know that my Father works as a Priest, right?

Kou: Ahー I feel like I heard that somewhere before.

Yui: We hold a Mass at church on Christmas day, so we have to prepare for that the night before.

Kou: Prepare? Like the Christmas lights they put up in town?

Yui: Yeah. Ours weren’t quite as elaborate, of course.

On the day of the Mass, the visitors light a candle, take a seat and pray...

Then afterwards we read passages from the Bible.

At the very end, someone will play the orgle and everyone sings together.

It creates such a lovely medley of singing voices...I loved that part.

Kou: Hmm, I see...But is that actually fun?

Yui: Yeah, it is. It is an important day to me after all.

( It’s a day full of memories of the time I spent with Father as well, after all... )

Kou: Hmー So that’s how it is. I mean, I don’t really understand but...Oh, I know!

The other day, this one person at work told me that Christmas Eve is a special day you should spend with your lover. (1)

Have you ever spent Christmas Eve with a special someone before?

Yui: No...I was always helping out for the Mass at Church after all...

Kou: I see...

ー Ruki enters the room

Ruki: The two of you are making a ruckus. At least close the door when you’re talking.

Yui: Ah, Ruki-kun...Yuma-kun and Azusa-kun as well. What’s the matter?

Yuma: We just happened to run into each other in the hallway. Ya guys were talkin’ hella loud.

Yui: S-Sorry...

Azusa: Eve and Kou...The two of you seemed to be having a fun chat.

Kou: Really? It wasn’t anything special though.

Ruki: Anyway, Kou, come with me. Livestock, you stay in your room.

Yui: S-Sure...

Kou: Eh~~...? Oh well, whatever. I got to learn something new at least.

See you later, M-neko-chan~!

ー The four of them leave

Yui: They left...

( Somehow it suddenly got quiet. )

( ...Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded talking for a little longer... )

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Kou: ...Say, say, Ruki-kun. Why don’t the four of us throw a Christmas party?

Ruki: Haah...I was wondering what you would bring up all of a sudden.

Kou: I mean, M-neko-chan seemed kind of sad, you see~

She was raised at a Church, right?

So it seems like Christmas and such brings back a lot of memories for her.

Yuma: So that’s what the two of ya were talkin’ ‘bout earlier, huh?

Azusa: ...Say, what is...Christmas?

Kou: Ah, are you interested, Azusa-kun?

Christmas itself is on the 25th of December and the day before that is called ‘Christmas Eve’.

It’s the day on which they celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ~

Azusa: Heeh, then...Today is the 24th so it’s...Christmas Eve...right?

Kou: Exactlyー! So I was thinking we could hold a little celebration?

Ruki: Azusa, did you not celebrate Christmas back when you were still human?

Azusa: ...We did not have that kind of celebration...

Ruki: How about you, Yuma?

Yuma: Hmー... Now that ya mention it, I do feel as if the city was a lil’ more lively ‘round this time of year...I think...?

I might have celebrated it back when I was a child, but I forgot.

Kou: I’m pretty sure my answer should be obvious but...Ah, you must have celebrated it, right, Ruki-kun?

Ruki: Well, yes.

Kou: Makes sense. You are a rich boy after all~

Azusa: Say, Ruki? How exactly do you celebrate it...?

Ruki: You decorate the inside of the house, say your prayers to God and enjoy a meal with the whole family.

There’s special foods and snacks which are only enjoyed on that particular day of year...

Also, you would exchange presents...I suppose that about sums it up.

Azusa: ...Exchanging presents...I honestly don’t care about the exchanging part. I’d much rather just be on the receiving end of all the punches...

Kou: Ahaha...Putting your wishes aside for a second...

Don’t you want to try and hold a Christmas party?

We’ve never really done something like that with the whole family, right? Come on, why not?

Ruki: Family, huh...?

Yuma: That bein’ said, Vampires celebratin’ the birth of Christ is kinda fucked up, no?

Kou: Should we not? Do you think he’ll be upset with us?

Ruki: ...Well, while I doubt he will be thrilled about it, that man has connections to the Church of his own, so he might understand in a sense.

I doubt he will condemn us if we hold a small celebration at home.

Kou: Right~? In that case, let’s get this party rolling~!

Ruki: Yuma, Azusa. What do you two think?

Yuma: ...Ahー...

Azusa: ...

Yuma: Oi, Kou. The Sow’s havin’ a rough time, right?

Kou: Yeah, she is.

Azusa: I...personally don’t care much about the party itself but...I don’t want...Eve to be sad...

Yuma: Nnー Well, it’s not really for her sake, but I don’t see any harm in doin’ this sorta stuff for once?

Ruki: ...

Kou: Fufu~ In that case, we just need permission from Ruki-kun...~!

Ruki: Haah...You’ll all be helping out, including during the clean-up, understood?

Yuma: Oh! Which means...

Ruki: Exactly...I suppose it will make for a nice change of pace.

We haven’t really spent much time together as a family up until now after all.

Furthermore, pleasing Livestock is part of our duty as her masters.

Kou: Hooray~~!!

In that case, we need to get started with all of the preparations!

Azusa: ...

Ruki: Oi, Azusa. Where are you going?

Azusa: I figured I’d go...tell Eve that we’ve decided to hold a party...

Kou: Eh!? You’re going to tell her?

Yuma: Aah? Should we not?

Kou: Hmー Don’t you think this is a perfect chance to make it a surprise?

Yuma: Surprise...? The fuck’s that?

Ruki: It means to catch them by surprise. In other words, you keep it a secret until the very second they arrive at the party...

Kou: I’m sure she’ll be ten times happier than if she already knew about the party beforehand!

I’m an idol, remember?

So I’ve had people throw a surprise birthday party for me before. 

I felt so happy back then!

Yuma: Hm. Is that how it works? Well, fine by me.

Ruki: Azusa, you’ve heard us. You don’t need to go inform her.

Azusa: Mmh. Understood...

Kou: Hmー Holding a Christmas party is fine and all but...

Yuma: The problem’s how to prepare for it. We need to decorate the place, but I have no fuckin’ clue which decorations to pick.

Azusa: I wonder what kind of...dishes we should serve...?

Kou: Let’s leave that part to Ruki-kun.

Ruki: Right. Just leave the cooking up to me. Which leaves...

ー The scene shifts to Yui’s bedroom

Yui: ( Hm...It’s a little chilly in here... )

( I’m pretty sure quite some time has passed since the others left as well. I wonder what they’re up to...? )

( Right. I suppose I’ll check up on them while I go grab myself a hot beverage. )

ー The scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: ...

Kou: Let’s leave that part to Ruki-kun.

Ruki: Right. Just leave the cooking up to me. Which leaves...

Yui: ( Ah...Kou-kun and Ruki-kun’s voices... )

( I wonder what they’re talking about...? )

Excuse meーー

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Ruki: ...Oh...

Kou: Eh? M-neko-chan!?

Yuma: ...Ya sure have the worst timin’, huh...?

Yui: Eh!? I’m sorry. Should I not have come in...?

Azusa: No, it’s fine...We were just talking about throwing you a surprise Christmas party

Yui: Eh...?

Kou: Waiーー!! Azusa-kun! What are you saying!?

Azusa: I mean...It’s not like we can still cover it up at this point. If we try and hide it...We’ll only end up making her uncomfortable. ...Right?

Ruki: Yes, Azusa, you are absolutely right. We could have always sent her back to her room, but I’m sure she would have been worried about us secretly scheming something behind her back.

If we upset her, we’re basically rendering our intentions null.

Yuma: Haah, I mean, that’s true but...We could have at least tried to keep it a secret...

Kou: Haah...Guess there’s no point now...

ーー And with that being said, we shall now commence with the preparations of the Mukami family’s very own Christmas party~!

Yui: Eh...!? We’re holding a Christmas party together!?

Yuma: That’s what we said earlier, remember? Are yer ears still workin’?

Yui: No, they are but...I’m just shocked...

I’m just wondering if it’s okay for you all to celebrate Christmas even though you’re Vampires?

Ruki: You don’t need to worry about that.

Kou: Exactly! Don’t fret over the small details~!

Are you not happy? You get to celebrate with us!

Yui: Of course I am...! I’m just surprised, that’s all.

Kou: I don’t think there’s any time to be surprised though? We have to hurry up and  prepare or Christmas will be here before we know it!

Yui: Ah, right!

Kou: Okayー! Let’s get started with these preparations right away!

Azusa: Eve...We’ve never held a proper party before...Can you tell us what we should do...?

Kou: First off, it’d be a great help if you could give us some pointers on how to decorate the house.

Yui: Well, we have to make actual decorations first...

Ruki: I assume it would be much quicker to just head to the store rather than explaining it here first.

Yuma: Good point. I doubt I’ll understand from some explanation alone.

Azusa: ...Yeah...

Ruki: There you have it. We are heading out at once.

Yui: Sure!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the department store

Yui: ( I never thought I’d one day go shopping with all of the guys like this... )

( That alone counts as a Christmas miracle. )

Yuma: Whatcha been grinnin’ ‘bout this whole time?

Yui: Ah, right. I’m just so happy we’re all able to go shopping like this...

Yuma: Heh, you’re gonna find yerself lost ‘gain if ya keep yer head in the clouds like that. Wouldn’t be the first time after all.

Yui: I...I’ll be careful.

Kou: Fufufu, so you’re aware of it at least.

Yui: Y-Yeah...

( It’s not that I actually walk away by myself though... )

Ruki: The food’s next on the list, huh? Oi, is there anything in particular you’d like to eat?

Azusa: ...I’d like something doused in plenty of red chili powder...

Ruki: ...Azusa, let’s try and stick to Christmas food this time.

Azusa: ...Fine...

But what exactly is ‘Christmas food’...?

Ruki: Hm...

Yuma: ...We don’t know if our personal preferences fit the holiday spirit after all.

So shouldn’t we just leave that choice up to the Sow?

Kou: Exactly. That’s why we called her over, so the two of you should talk it over and make a quick decision.

Ruki: ...I suppose it cannot be helped. That seems like the most time-efficient solution. 

Livestock, what did your family eat for Christmas?

Yui: Let’s see...I suppose Turkey or Roast Beef are both staples on any Christmas dinner table!

Ruki: You’re only naming meat...

Yui: Of course, we eat salad as well? Mixing in vegetables cut into cute shapes and such...

Yuma: The fuck does that mean? All veggies are the same, right?

Yui: You can use cutters to shape them like hearts or stars. I guess you’ll get an idea if we go to the deli counter...?

Yuma: Ready-made dishes?

Yui: Ah, I didn’t mean we have to buy anything, but I figured we could gather some inspiration.

Yuma: Geez, I thought ya were gonna take the easy way out. It’s a party after all.

So we’re obviously gonna make everythin’ at home from scratch, right?

Yui: Yeah! Of course.

Ruki: I suppose it’ll give us an idea of what we can make. Well then, let’s go buy the ingredients first.

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: I’m glad we got our hands on some delicious-looking meat!

Ruki: Yes. I’m looking forward to preparing it.

Yui: ( I managed to buy everything I need for the cake as well, so I’ll try my best at making it! )

( I hope they’ll like it... )

Kou: Say, let’s go pick out a tree next! The biggest one they have!

Yuma: Geez, are ya a lil’ kid or somethin’?

Yui: Fufu, you’re interested in decorating it, right?

Kou: I mean, it’s all sparkly and pretty, right? Just like me, no?

Azusa: Let’s buy lots of star-shaped decorations...

Kou: Come on, Azusa-kun. Don’t ignore me.

Azusa: Eh...? Ah, yeah...Sorry...

Yui: Do you like stars, Azusa-kun?

Azusa: Yeah...They’ve got these sharp and pointy ends...So I’m sure they’d hurt a lot...

Yui: S-So that’s why...

Ruki: Azusa, you better not think of tainting those stars with your blood.

Kou: Exactly! Today’s Christmas after all, a day you are meant to enjoy with your family!

Well then~ Which one to buy?

ー Kou runs off

Ruki: Oi, Kou. Don’t run off by yourself. 

I won’t allow for any extra purchases. We’ll only buy the necessities.

Kou: Eeeeeh~? Whaaat~? You cheapskate!

Ruki: I don’t mind being a cheapskate. This is important money we’ve received from that man.

I can’t be wasteful with it.

Kou: Well, I get where you’re coming from but...

Yui: ( Everyone seems to be having fun. )

( Like this, it almost seems like we’ve become an actual family... )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: Phew, we bought more than I anticipated.

Yuma: That’s ‘cause Kou kept on wantin’ to buy all this shit, right?

Kou: Eeh~? You’re blaming me? Fufu, I won’t deny it. However, we didn’t buy anything we didn’t need, right?

Yuma: I mean, we didn’t, I guess...

Ruki: Let’s go over everything one more time. Is this pretty much everything we need for the tree and decorations...?

Yui: Yeah! We’re all set!

Yuma: We’ve got the vegetables I grew at home as well, so this should do.

Kou: Aah~ We’re actually celebrating Christmas. I can’t wait!

Ruki: Kou, you’re being way too excited. Mind your manners.

Kou: Oh come on, let me be! I never got to experience this as a child after all!

Yuma: Well then, we’re gonna be busy once we get home~!

Yui: Speaking of which...Where did Azusa-kun...? Ah, there he is!

( I wonder why he’s just standing there? )

Azusa: Say, Ruki...

Ruki: ...? What’s the matter?

Azusa: I want this knife...

Yui: K-Knife...?

( Why is he holding a knife...? )

Kou: Hold up, Azusa-kun, where did you get that?

Azusa: ...Why not? I want this to give me pain... 

Yui: A-Azusa-kun! What are you saying...!?

Ruki: Azusa, go return it to the store.

Azusa: Please? ...The shape of this blade is so pretty, and it looks very sharp as well...

Ruki: No means no. Azusa, you have to put it back where you found it.

Azusa: No way....But I want it so badly...I can’t give up on it...

Yui: Azusa-kun...

Azusa: ...Come on, I want it, no matter what...

Kou: Azusa-kun! You don’t need a knife on a fun day like this!

Azusa: No...This is special...

Yui: ( What to do? Azusa-kun’s not giving in at all. )

Yuma: Oi, at this rate we’ll never make it back home.

Azusa: Then...Can we buy it?

Yuma: Just listen to Ruki for today. Ya can buy that crap whenever, right?

Azusa: ...

Yuma: God, listen up...

Ruki: Azusa.

Yui: ( O-Oh no...Ruki-kun started getting angry as well. )

U-Um, Azusa-kun...

Yuma: Ya stay out of this.

Yui: B-But...

Yuma: Geez, guess it can’t be helped. I’ll go bring it back with him.

Ruki: My bad, Yuma.

Yuma: Yeah. ...Come on, Azusa, let’s go.

Azusa: ...No.

*Rustle*

Yui: Ah! Yuma-kun! If you grab him by his collar like that, you’ll hurt him....

Azusa: Ah...It hurts...I can barely breathe...Haah...Amazing...Uu...

Yui: ( A-Azusa-kun is...happy? )

Ruki: Azusa, don’t cause Yuma too much trouble, okay?

Azusa: Yeah...

Yuma: Che! Ya say that but you’re already bein’ a pain in the ass! Come on, walk by yerself already!

Azusa: Nn, but...It’s suffocating...

Yuma: That’ll fix itself if ya just use yer own damn legs, no?

Azusa: It’d rather stay like this a little longer.

Yui: ( He’ll be okay, right? Yuma-kun’s with him after all... )

ー Yuma walks away with Azusa

Ruki: Let’s go. We’ll head back first and get everything ready.

ー Ruki starts walking away

Yui: Eh? Don’t we need to wait for them?

Kou: Yuma-kun may be with him, but knowing Azusa-kun...

Yui: ...?

Kou: Azusa-kun has a hard time letting go of things once they pique his interest.

Yui: I see...

( It might take a while until they get back... )

I hope it won’t turn into a fight.

Kou: Hmー I guess that’ll depend on Azusa-kun’s behavior?

Ruki: What are you two doing? Let’s go.

Kou: Roger~!

Yui: ( Yuma-kun’s actually quite good at looking after others, so we can leave this up to him, right...? )

*TIMESKIP*

 ー The scene shifts to the living room

Kou: Phew~ These were so heavyー

Ruki: Good grief, I’m exhausted...

Yui: ( We’ve got quite a lot of bags... )

Ruki: Well then, we’ve got no time to lose. Let’s start preparing.

If we procrastinate for too long, we’ll only waste time.

I’m heading towards the kitchen to get started on the food.

Kou: Gotcha~!

Guess I’ll get started with the decorations then.

Ruki: We’re counting on you.

Kou: Roger!

Yui: Ruki-kun, I’ll help out as well!

Ruki: Yeah, that would be great.

Kou: I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ll make for us!

Yui: Mmh! I’ll try my best to make something delicious, okay?

*THUD*

Yuma: Honestly, I went through fuckin’ hell and back!

I’m never cleanin’ up Azusa’s mess again!

Yui: S-Sounds like they’re back. He seems really upset though. I wonder what happened...?

Ruki: I assume Azusa threw one of his stubborn tantrums. Oi, Livestock.

Yui: Y-Yes!

Ruki: Go pass on this message to them. Please tell them they should get started with their own tasks.

Yui: Yeah, sure. I’ll go tell them.

ー The scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: Welcome back, you two.

Azusa: If I don’t get that knife, I’ll...I’ll...

Yuma: Aah, let it go already! What’s so damn nice ‘bout that knife anyway!?

Azusa: ...

Yui: ( Seems like they don’t even realize I’m here. )

( That being said, if I leave them be, they’ll run late with their preparations. )

Um, you guys! Welcome back!

Azusa: ...Wah...You startled me.

Yuma: Aah? The fuck, Sow? You’ve been standin’ there this whole time? 

Yui: Yeah...Um, Ruki-kun has already started preparing everything, so he’d like the two of you to help out as well. 

Azusa: But, the knifeーー

Yuma: Ya really don’t know when to give up, huh? We’re done talkin’ ‘bout that!

Azusa: ...You blockhead.

Yuma: Speak for yerself!!

Yui: ( O-Oh no... )

( I can’t leave things like this. I have to stop them somehow... )

U-Um!!

Azusa-kun, Kou-kun has started on the decorations, so can I rely on you to help him with that?

Azusa: ...

Yui: Both me and Yuma-kun understand very well just how badly you want that knife...

But we have to get on with the Christmas preparations now, so I’d really appreciate it if you could help out...

Azusa: ...What about you?

Yui: Eh?

Azusa: What will you do?

Yui: I’m going to make the Christmas cake.

Azusa: ...Okay. I want to try your cake, so I’ll forget about the knife...For a while, at least...

Yuma: ‘For a while’, my ass! Forget ‘bout that thing forever!

Yui: Shh, calm down, Yuma-kun.

Azusa: I’ll go help Kou then.

Yui: Yeah, good luck.

ー Azusa walks away

Yuma: Heh. You’re really startin’ to get the hang of how to handle that guy, huh?

Yui: Y-You think so...?

Yuma: Well, whatever. Anyway, Ruki’s already in the kitchen, ya said?

Yui: Yeah, I think he’s getting everything ready to start cooking.

Yuma: I’ll go get some veggies from the garden then.

Yui: Ah, Yuma-kun! Could you maybe let me have some fruit to use for the cake?

Yuma: Roger. I’ll make sure to grab a few, so ya get yer ass over to the kitchen ‘kay?

Yui: Yeah, thanks!

ー Yuma walks away as well

Yui: Well then...

( I’ll try my best to bake the best cake ever as well! )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) While the holidays are often associated with family in the West, Christmas and especially Christmas Eve are strongly linked to couples in Japan. 

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[ Part 2 ] →

[desperationandgin]

Strawberry Wine - Chapter 13

Title: Strawberry wine

Also Read On: AO3

Summary: Claire attempts to find Jamie while the war rages on and eventually ends.

A/N: Thank you so much for everyone’s patience while I finished this story! At one point I wasn’t going to, but I had an incredible support team that cheered me on. Without all of my betas, I would be nothing. The gorgeous mood board is by @veryfaintveryhuman​ and I am SO GRATEFUL. It’s beautiful, thank you!

Chapter 13: Like Leaves in the Fall

When the war ended and the fighting was over, I had no idea whether or not Jamie was alive.

What I did know, as I took stock on a train to Scotland, was that my uncle was dead, and I was alone.

Losing Lamb had been a blow to my heart, but I didn’t have the luxury of time to process the grief and sorrow while in the midst of saving lives. The telegram I’d received simply said he’d died in his sleep, and within the span of a single sentence, my last piece of family was gone. No more messy-but-organized flat to visit in the wake of my uncle’s retirement. No one to lean on as I recounted the horrors of war. When I woke from the nightmares, there would be no one to smooth my hair until I was calm. I had no one left in the world who loved me.

I had no one to help find the other half of me.

After losing contact with Jamie, each letter I’d sent to Lallybroch remained unanswered; nothing was ever returned. All of my letters were simply gone into the void—the same place prayers went to die when no deity bothered to listen.

Everything had gone to hell in July 1943. The night I left with a trio of Americans to help an understaffed unit five miles away.

I’d been sure the order from the commanding officer had been to leave in the morning at first light, but I was, of course, outranked by the soldiers escorting me. We’d left an hour after sunset and hadn’t been on the road more than eight minutes before there was an ambush, gunfire, and a fireball of explosion. I never could remember anything that happened after the initial blast. When I’d woken up, I was told I’d been in and out of consciousness for two days, and in that time, had been taken by truck to a field hospital twenty miles east of my own unit. Travel between the two camps had since become a blown-out, impassable mess, with no other way to get back. I wrote to Jamie as soon as I could, but with everything so chaotic, I felt before I knew that something was wrong.

I wrote each Sunday for a year to the last address I had for him, even if it was the final, bleary-eyed thing I did before collapsing that night. Some weeks it was only a sentence. Something simple.

I miss you.

Other weeks I poured my soul out to him, weeping over the paper until the ink was so blurred that even if he received it, he wouldn’t have been able to make out half the words. I began writing to Lallybroch, and my alarm ran deeper when there was no response from anyone at all. I had the phone number and attempted to call when I had the rare chance, but the operator could never connect. I felt helpless, and so I threw myself into helping others, trying to send as many boys and men home to their families as I could.

The last letter I’d sent was posted a month before the end of the war (though I hadn’t known it at the time) and was the first I’d written in a long, long while. I’d mailed it to Lallybroch, for no other reason than because I had no idea where else Jamie might be in the world.

I asked you to promise something impossible. I won’t ever believe you broke that vow to me, James Fraser. Not until I see proof with my own eyes.

You are not gone.

If you were, I couldn’t exist. So you must be out there, somewhere.

Now, the war was over. In the life we’d dreamed, we would have been settled with children by now. At least one or two. All of those nights dreaming felt like distant memories; plans two young lovers made before they’d ever stepped into the reality of the world.

How had we ever believed that our fantasies were untouchable?

I was going back to Lallybroch in the hope of discovering what happened to the Frasers. My heart ached for Jamie to walk out of the front door, healthy and whole, surprised to see me but eager to explain. Even knowing that wouldn’t be the case, I couldn’t have anticipated reaching his home only to find…nothing.

I knew something was wrong the moment I pulled into the drive. There was no smoke rising from the chimneys, there were no chickens roaming the yard. Getting out of the car (Lamb’s; now mine), I could see that the fields in the distance hadn’t been plowed, there were no animals grazing. I stumbled my way to the front door, recognizing the curling orange foreclosure notice for what it was before I could even make out the words.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ���”

It felt as if someone had wrapped their hands around my heart and squeezed. I touched the fading paper and realized it’d been there for some time, then turned to sink slowly onto the front steps. I couldn’t fathom what had happened to cause Brian Fraser to lose the home his ancestors built in the name of love, and my mind raced with possibilities. The main question was where everyone had gone, and I knew my answers wouldn’t be found by sitting still. I left the property and drove into Broch Mordha, parking on the street and walking until I found the quaint little bookshop Jamie and I had enjoyed ducking into once or twice.

“Hello?”

A creaky old voice responded, and the proprietor, Mr. Gowan, made his way around the corner. I remembered him, a retired solicitor with a love of literature, and the way he smiled at me seemed to indicate he recalled me as well.

“Miss Beauchamp, was it? Oh aye, to be sure,” he answered for himself. “I hardly thought I would see ye here again with the Frasers gone from the land.”

It seemed we were cutting right to the chase, and I was eager to avoid small talk. “What happened? I haven’t heard anything in...years.” It hurt to say it aloud, to acknowledge that all of the time I was supposed to have with Jamie was slipping by.

Ned Gowan’s eyes went the sort of soft that meant he was to be the bearer of bad news.

It was in that dusty little shop that I learned of Brian Fraser’s death. He’d been at the plow when he collapsed. A stroke rendered him unable to speak or make final arrangements before he died, and so Jenny had been left to find a way to stay afloat—during a war, no less—on her own. She’d done the best she could, letting go of the farmhands who couldn’t go to war, first, then selling off livestock. Eventually, the burden became too much, and she’d been forced to take what she could stuff in a trunk and leave the rest behind.

“Do you know where she went?” I asked, my voice thick with unshed tears.

Ned reached over, patting my hand softly. “That, I cannae be sure of. I ken she stayed with the MacNabs for a spell after her father died, though she isna there now.”

“Do you know what happened to Jamie? Did he come back?”

At my questions, Ned simply squeezed my hand and shook his head. “I’m sorry, my dear.”

For a moment, I simply held onto him, attempting to come to terms with the fact that Jamie had never returned home while my stomach tried to force its way up my throat.

The end of the day saw me no further than the start. The elderly Mrs. MacNab, while kind, hadn’t kept up with Jenny. With the mouths of children and grandchildren alike to feed and keep track of in a small, two-bedroom home, she’d lost the forwarding address. She assured me that when Jenny left she had at least seemed to have a plan, though she had no idea where Jamie’s sister might have gone.

In the days that followed, I spoke to various locals and realized that no one else knew, either.

I hit the final wall in trying to track down Jenny when I couldn’t locate her cousin, Jared. Leaving Paris had likely been the safest decision for him, but with everyone moving constantly during the war, nothing was familiar anymore. No one was where they were supposed to be.

I didn’t know where to go, and so, I went back to Lallybroch.

It was dark when I arrived, but the path to the river hadn’t faded from my memory. I knew, even in the faint moonlight, which branches to shove aside and could almost imagine Jamie ahead of me. As I broke into the clearing and the sound of water blended with the evening insects, I realized I’d been holding my breath with some sort of final hope that he would be there, reaching his hand out for me.

When I finally exhaled, it was on a sob as I sank to my knees.

He was truly gone.

Likely dead and buried somewhere I would never know. The war had chewed us all up and spat us back out in pieces, scattered and lost. I ached and cried, not only for Jamie, but for Jenny, Ian, and Brian, too. So much had been taken from us, and I wept for it all. I had no idea how long I laid there even after the tears stopped, curled in on myself in the mud. When I finally rose, I sat on the bank of the river, slightly damp, and watched the sky turn pink with the dawn of a new day.

I had to find a home on my own now.

Alone.

Over time, I slowly pieced together a life that was more or less what I’d told Jamie I wanted to do the first night we’d met. I took my skills as a nurse to places with little access to medical care, did what I could, and stayed as long as I felt necessary before moving on. My life hardly felt the way I’d thought it once would; I enjoyed helping others, and the call to take care of those in need was enough to motivate me each day. But I felt as if I were a spectator, watching the weeks, months, and years pass by in slow motion.

When my travels took me to North America, I eventually caught wind of a hospital in Boston looking to hire a dozen or so nurses. I’d thought about it for a long while, whether or not I should stop someplace and finally settle. I’d never longed for something permanent before, not until Jamie had put it into my head that we could have a life together, at Lallybroch.

Boston was about as far from the Scottish Highlands as anyplace else; an entire ocean stretched between what I yearned for and what I wound up with. I put all of my time and energy into the job, and even made a friend or two as I tried to put the war and life before it behind me.

But Jamie’s ghost wouldn’t go so easily.

He guided most of my decisions, the voice in my head that battled my doubts. When I debated whether or not to apply for a head nursing position, the voice in my head that whispered you’re just as capable as any other person at this hospital sounded suspiciously like Jamie, and I decided to try. He became my backbone when I stepped into an interview room full of men. When I was offered the job, I couldn’t deny my happiness at the accomplishment, and my colleagues at the hospital celebrated me in a way that was kind and genuine. But as I marked the time passing and settled into my career, I knew I had come to a point where I needed to let Jamie go.

Moving through life with a constant ache hurt too badly, and I’d never let myself accept that he was truly gone. If I was going to say goodbye to him, it needed to be done properly. That was why, five years after last receiving a letter from him, I took a trip to Scotland to leave a message in a bottle.

3rd of September, 1949. Come find me, Jamie.

When that fateful day finally arrived, I watched the sunrise from the front steps of Lallybroch for what I knew would be the last time. The sky was blue and birds were chirping, apathetic to my sorrow as I walked the property. I found the old, rusted truck that had taken us everywhere that summer, the back-half of it gone. We’d carved promises into one another in the bed of that truck, made love and held one another while we gazed at the stars. Looking down, I pressed my thumb against the faded scar before walking toward the front of the home. It still looked as sturdy as ever, but with no life within, the entire structure seemed dull, as if even the stones had given up.

I decided to make my way to the river through the woods knowing that if Jamie had found my note, that’s where he would think to look for me. I paused for a moment to gaze back at the house, finding his bedroom window. There was only broken glass now, and I closed my eyes, a quiet tear rolling down my cheek. I could still picture the first time I’d ever seen him perfectly: shirtless in a kilt, a bale of hay slung over his shoulder as easily as if it had been a bag of feathers. It wasn’t fair, that we’d only had a summer, that my soul had tangled itself with his in a way that was forever knotted. I would say goodbye today, but I couldn’t fathom finding another love like this in my lifetime.

To be frank, I didn’t know if I believed another love like his existed.

Looking up at the window again, I remembered that first night we made love, how warm it’d been. I’d stood in the window naked while we talked, welcoming the evening breeze as we’d made plans to escape to the water.

My only warning that the world was about to tilt on its axis was the soft crunch of gravel underfoot behind me. It was light enough that I didn’t bother to turn and see what made the sound. And then, suddenly, I felt as though I were in free fall.

“...Sassenach?”

The word (my name on his lips), unheard in years, made my heart skip before every ounce of air left my lungs. I turned my body slowly, but stared down for a moment before finally raising my head, afraid that I’d heard nothing at all.

He was there, standing straight and tall, staring at me in slack-jawed surprise.

Jamie was alive and whole, and it was the last thought I had before the world went black.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Deleted Scene: Gateway Drug

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.

.

.

"Monster In-Law" -- [1981]

My stomach is in uncomfortable knots as I rub foundation over my skin, nervously, trying not to shit myself with anxiety as the clock nears 7:00pm. 

I hope he's not late, but I also hope he doesn't even show. 

"I wonder if it's Luke Ginson." I hear my mother suggest to my father, the sound of clicking silverware lets me know they're setting the table, and I wrinkle my nose. 

"You think Vivian would be interested in the Preacher's son, Charlette?" My dad replies, doubt in his voice. 

"I hope so. He's a Godly young man, Johnny, that our Vivian would be lucky to go with." She replies and I have to hold back a scoff. 

Luke Ginson was our pastor's son but was just as debauched as Vince, Tommy and Nikki, only hiding behind the fact his dad was a preacher as a cover. I'd later find out my mom and Pastor Garret had planned on approaching me and Luke with the idea of going out. I wonder if she felt like an absolute idiot for thinking he was so much better for me than Nikki when Luke popped up in the obituary in 1988 after dying of a methadone overdose…

"Vivian would be lucky to go out with?" My dad questions her. "Any guy is lucky to even be breathing the same air as her, Charlette, don't act like our girl is so--"

"--I'm not." My mom insists. "She just needs a little push in the right direction."

"And Luke Ginson is the right direction?"

"Of course!" She says it as if she's offended he'd dare suggest otherwise, and I let out a heavy breath, my nerves only tensing up more. 

She thinks I'm bringing her Lord and Savior Luke Ginson to dinner...great. 

I'm ready just in time, hearing the door of Nikki's beat up car shut outside. 

I'm darting down the stairs, glad that my parents haven't noticed, and open the door before he can ring the doorbell. 

He's dressed as nice as he can be, jeans, a tshirt, and his leather jacket. 

"Hi." He says, smiling at me, looking me up and down. "You look hot." 

"Thank you." I reply, my eyes catching on the rosary around his neck. "Oh, no, she can't see that, we're Assembly of God, she's gonna think you're Catholic." I mumble as I quickly tuck it into his shirt as my mom says, "Vivian, is he here?" A little too excitedly. 

"Um, yes ma'am, coming!" I call, looking at Nikki.

"Relax, babe, I got this." He assures me deviously as we step inside and I lead him to the dining room, gulping when I meet my mother's eyes as she steps in with a pitcher of lemonade. 

She sets her sights on Nikki and drops the dish, causing the heavy glass to break and lemonade to slosh onto the floor, and I keep myself from squeezing my eyes closed to retreat to my mind. 

"Charlette, honey, be more care--" My dad stops talking when he walks in to see Nikki, "--ful." He finishes, immediately going into salvage mode. "H-Hey, hi," he smiles widely at Nikki, seeming to be amused with my choice of date, "I'm Johnny." My dad extends his hand. 

"Nikki." Nikki takes it. 

"Johnny, Vivian, a word, please." My mom says, obviously seething. 

"Oh, Charlette, we don't have time...the steaks will get cold." He tells her to save me, and she stomps into the kitchen before he looks at me. 

"Thank you." I mouth and he winks at me. 

"She was expecting someone else." My dad tells Nikki, putting an arm around his shoulder and patting him as we step to the table. 

Nikki finds this humorous and snorts a little, causing me to glare at him because it's not funny. 

"Would you like something to drink, Nikki?" I ask quietly as my dad wipes up the lemonade and gets what pieces of glass he can get off the floor. 

"I really don't think your parents have Jack, do they?" He mumbles and I shake my head a little, smiling sadly at him. "I'm in hell." He adds as I chuckle. "Whatever you guys have is fine with me." He says next and I nod, heading to the kitchen to grab him a soda from the fridge. 

My mom's angrily preparing to bring the plate of steaks to the table, her red lips in an almost snarl as she glances at me. 

"This is not what we do, Vivian." She states to me and I roll my eyes. 

"Mom--"

"--You know better than to get in with the likes of him." She keeps on.

"I know he's not Luke freaking Ginson, mom, but he's good to me and I really like him." 

"Oh, he's good to you?" She asks with a mocking laugh, turning to face me with her hands on her hips. 

"Yes, he is." I stand by what I said. 

"Your Aunt Lily is rolling in her grave at the sound of you giving props to the same type of man that completely wrecked her life, and eventually took it away from her altogether." She hisses, turning back around to grab the plate, while I'm struck speechless. "Grab the fries and string beans." She tells me, walking back out to the table. 

I push my tears back and grab the beans, sitting them next to the steaks as I hand Nikki his soda, next. 

"Looks good." He comments about the food. 

"Very good." Dad puts in next, sitting down. "Thank you, Charlette." He says next in reference to her helping with dinner. 

"Who would like to say prayer?" She ignores him, her eyes glassed with tears the longer she looks at Nikki and I next to each other.

"I will." Dad says, and I bow my head and close my eyes. "Father, in heaven, I pray. Forgive me of my sins, Lord. Thank you for continuing to bless us with new opportunities to meet and love on others. Thank you for your comforting hand, and not leaving one tear that's been shed recently over Lilian, unacknowledged. I pray that you continue to keep your hand over this family, protect us and those we love, but above all, I pray whatever your will is, let it be done. Thank you for this meal we are so fortunate to have, may it nourish and strengthen our bodies so our bodies may continue to be used unto your service. In Christ Jesus' name I pray. Amen." He finishes. 

"Amen." Mom and I echo, and Nikki looks at me, already chewing steak, letting me know he started eating during the blessing. 

My mother notices, too, her hand tightening around her fork.

My dad just shrugs it off before asking him, "So, Nikki, what is it you do for a living, or are you in school?" My dad asks him and my mom rudely scoffs as if it's impossible that Nikki's in college currently. 

"No, I'm kinda doing odd jobs. Right now I'm telemarketing." He explains. 

“Is that what the kids are calling drug dealing nowadays?” My mom remarks, snidely.

“Mom.” I say, shooting daggers her way and she raises her brows.

“What, I’m just asking a legitimate question, Vivian.” She tells me, raising her brows. “What, with the knotted, unnaturally black hair, eye liner and uncomfortably ripped pants that make him look like he got caught in a barbed wire fence while escaping a prison, I think it’s safe to assume he enjoys listening to the same sex, alcohol and drug endorsing music as--”

“--Charlette.” My dad sighs out, looking at her as if to say, “seriously?”

“And don’t even get me started on the rosary hiding under his shirt.” She promptly points out and he and I both tense up. “Not only did you bring home an imbecile, Vivian, but a Catholic imbecile.” She sarcastically congratulates me. “I’m sure God is so very pleased with you.” She adds and I wince as she abruptly corrects herself, looking at Nikki as she says, “or, as you Catholics believe, ‘Mother Mary.”

“Mom--”

“--Do you not feel ridiculous believing that you have to plead with dead disciples and Mary to talk to God on your behalf because simply going to God directly in prayer isn’t enough. Because I assure you, what, with the ‘Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of the womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death’, I promise you she’s looking down at your ignorance and telling you to just talk to Jesus or God yourself because she’s a woman, and men don’t listen--not even the divine.” She states, and my father has his face buried in his hands, and I can tell my expression is mortified as my mom just casually starts cutting her steak while Nikki just keeps his amused grin on his lips.

“No, my prayers are usually done in the dead of night in a discreet location in the hills, with the sacrificial offering of a virgin with the entirety of the Sunset Strip nightlife in attendance while Blackie Lawless sings 'I Fly Away’ backwards while wearing a goat carcass.” He tells her without skipping a beat. 

Her jaw clenches, her eye twitching as me and my dad are both sitting, paralyzed, and I feel the color draining from my face by the second. 

"Then you have no business associating yourself with my daughter." My mom quips, staring at him resentfully.

"Mmm, she's our latest sacrificial virgin." Nikki replies and my mother slams her fork onto her plate, throwing her napkin onto the table. 

"I need fresh air." She states in a hiss, going to the door and slamming it. 

We all just sit in silence for a moment, before Nikki looks at my dad. 

"I'm not really using her as a sacrificial virgin." He tells him, and my dad raises a brow. 

"I figured being that it wouldn't do much good." My dad mumbles. "Well, kids, moments like these I wish I wouldn't have stopped drinking." He sighs out next, standing. "I'm sorry for her mother's lack of manners and boundaries. She wasn't always like this." He assures Nikki. "And no matter your beliefs--it's not our business--as long as Vivian's comfortable…" he says next and Nikki nods as if he's thinking about it before my dad opens the door to go talk my mom down.

[dailyaudiobible]

02/19/2021 DAB Transcript

Leviticus 7:28-9:6, Mark 3:31-4:25, Psalms 37:12-29, Proverbs 10:5

Today is the 19th day of February welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian it’s great to be here with you today as we round the corner here. We’re at the end of another week just about and we’ve transitioned into two new books this week and we’re getting’ moved into those and enjoying that. So, let’s…let's continue…let's continue with the journey. We’re reading from the Common English Bible this week. Leviticus chapter 7 verse 28 through 9 verse 6.

Commentary:

Okay. Let's…well…let's talk about harvest today. Jesus talked about it. And, you know, harvest…harvest is definitely a scriptural…a scriptural term that Jesus talks about, being the Lord of the harvest or sending workers, the laborers are few to go into the harvest. So, this is definitely a scriptural term but it’s…it's an agricultural term as well. We understand that seedtime and harvest that's…that's how we get our food. And, so, if you are a farmer you want to seed to go into the soil, you want it to…to yield fully to its full potential, and we understand these things. So, Jesus is talking about different kinds of soil that the seed gets planted into and depending on the kind of soil really dictates the kind of harvest. So, the seed can be awesome seed but planted in not so awesome soil it's not gonna be an awesome harvest, but good seed planted in good soil does produce a great harvest. Jesus was teaching this in a story, in story form, in parable form, as He often did. And it's easy enough, and this is a popular…popular enough parable that we sort of understand the lay of the land. And Jesus was pretty explicit in giving an interpretation of the parable that He had given. We all want that 100-fold harvest, right? We all want a bountiful harvest in our lives. Maybe we need to start thinking about gardening. Maybe this is the point in our journey through the year and our journey in life that we need to turn inward and see our heart, see our hearts as a field of soil. What kind of soil is there? Because whatever kind of soil is there is going to dictate the harvest, no matter how good the seed is. So, God is nourishing us through His word every day here as we take this journey through the Bible. This is good seed we could say, but are we, are our hearts good soil for this good seed. So, if the seed falls and cannot take roots then it’s just gonna lay there on the surface and it's gonna get snatched away. If…if our hearts are hard and stony and difficult, then there's nowhere for the seed to take root. And if we’re just distracted and anxious and full of worry or we’re just distracted and chasing other things, other desires…well…then the soil of our heart is thorny and it's gonna choke the seed out. We can understand this. We can even…we should be able to visualize this. We’ve seen rocky ground we’ve seen thorny ground. Like, we should understand this and we can even visualize how difficult it would be for a bountiful harvest to grow under those conditions. If our hearts are in that condition than they are not going to yield the bountiful harvest, we are hoping for. In other words, God’s gonna do His part here, but we have some gardening to do. We have our part. Our role to play in. And maybe it's time to dig up the stony ground and do away with the thorn bushes and make ourselves fertile and ready for anything that God wants to bring in this adventure that we call life, this dance that we are in together with Him.

Prayer:

Jesus, thank You. Thank You for this wisdom. It's very clear. It's abundantly clear. We know the hard places in our lives. We know the thorny places in our lives. We know the shallow places in our lives. And we just need help. We need You to guide us and show us how to become good soil. So, come Holy Spirit as we contemplate this, as we consider, as we meditate upon this, show us the areas in our heart that need some gardening. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

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

Community Prayer and Praise:

H family it's Mica I haven't called for over a year. So much as has happened I could never catch you up in about a minute and 30 seconds; however, I…I did really need you guys help. You’re the closest thing I have to a family for a long long time. And I’ve spent a year homeless and been in a domestic violence shelter and lost all my stuff add my car and I was put in jail and you name it. Right now I'm out because of an injury from work and because there's some hold up and misunderstanding about the last time I was on unemployment. I am waiting for the determination so that I can get my workman's comp and things like that because I was injured back on January 7th. I haven't been working since. I've been borrowing money from people and leaning on people and I am just tired of it. I need I…need things to go right and I need __ things to stay away from me. Most of all I…I need to be right with God again and I need a family too. Please family help me __.

Hello Daily Audio Bible family this is Natalie. I'm calling because I just wanted to leave a quick prayer for… I've been listening to a lot of the prayers of the people and I just wanted to just do a little prayer for each and every person. I may not know the name or the…where you're from but I know we are all connected in God’s family and the spirit of God is with us and…and He can intercede on our behalf. So, heavenly Father I thank You Lord this day for each and every person who's called in who had a prayer or who had a concern Father. You tell us Lord Jesus that Lord we are connected as a family and we can come boldly before Your throne to ask for mercy in our times of need oh God. Father I pray for those that are sick Lord. There was one gentleman who said he had a heart attack, and he was struggling…they diagnosed him with bipolar Father and we…we…we come against that Father because we know Lord God that You are the author and finisher of our faith and we know that by Your stripes we are healed Father and I pray for healing on those people Father God. What man says is one thing but what God says the final authority. Father I pray for those people that are struggling with their jobs, with their families, those that are not saved Lord. I ask Lord God that You Father God Lord You said that we just need to plant the seed and You would do the growing Father. Father I pray over those people Lord Jesus that have…have…have been one Young lady said that her…her Father committed suicide in December of 2020. Father I pray for peace in that family Lord Jesus. Father You said that You would work all things together for the good of those that love You and are called according to Your purpose. And, so, I pray Father God that everything that we go through in our lives, everything that she is going through and her families going through that Lord You would…You would receive the glory from at all. You said what the enemy meant for evil You will turn it around...

Hello Daily Audio Bible family this is Ethan of Ashburnham MA in the USA. I have a prayer request that I've been meaning to ask for…for a long time. I have a friend his name is Chris he's going through some sort of crisis that I won't go into detail here. He…he's walked away from Christ and truth be told I am really scared for his future. I know I shouldn't be. I'm not responsible for his future but I am. I just…without Christ there's this void in him that he's trying to fill with everything money can buy, physical items, but as we all know those don't fill us up. And also, I'm starting to become concerned that this is becoming an unhealthy relationship for me. I feel like I have to be in his life to just try and bring him back to Christ but that's not my responsibility. I shouldn't be doing that and subjecting myself. Please pray for my friend Chris. God knows who I'm talking about. He's been my dear friend for over 15 years, and he was one of the few people I thought with absolute certainty would never abandon me during a time in middle school when I thought nobody liked me. He's been one of my closest friends for over 15 years and I'm heartbroken of the way that he's becoming but I choose to trust in Christ and His strength.

Hi guys this is Margaret from Southern California. I'm calling in for Tiffany and Tony of Cleveland. Tiffany had called again asking prayer for joy after the loss of her daughter Gianna. And I remember your original first call and my heart sank because I can relate to this loss of your precious daughter. I lost my baby girl 11 years ago. She was a full-term stillborn baby girl, 9-pound beautiful baby and I delivered her still. And I know she went to heaven when she was in my tummy but at the time, I couldn't see straight for anything and I absolutely lost all joy. And I just want to encourage you guys that God has brought me alone and my husband so far these past 11 years and we truly have joy. We feel that God has done everything for us and as far as healing and mending our hearts and giving us more children after that and…but mostly I think that He's giving us a perspective of knowing that she's in heaven and we're going to be with her again. And I want to encourage you guys. Gianna, you're going to be with her again. And one day down on earth is one day closer to heaven for eternity and perfection with Jesus and I just can't wait for that day. And I just want you guys so badly to be able to experience that. And you know what, it may not be tomorrow but just keep…keep on keeping on and have that faith that the Lord will deliver you from this despair. I love you friends.

Good morning DAB family today is the 16th day of February and I'm just sitting in my car. I just finished listening to Daily Audio Bible for the 15th. Again, Brian it's just amazing listening to you. So, this is Janet from…from the UK and I'm just calling to ask for prayer for my mom. It's been 2 weeks. She's been diagnosed with breast cancer. And even though she lives in America I live in the UK I do have a sister and brother that's in the US also but they're not really active in her life and she's literally at the house by herself, but thanks be to God we do have friends that are taking care, helping to take care of her. But I’m going to try to go over to the UK. So, I'm asking for prayers, journey mercies as I leave from the UK to go to America to help take care of my mom. And I also pray for my mom because she has like diabetes and all these other stuff that…other combabilities as they call it. But I'm asking for prayer because I know I have the best…I have the best family, the most prayerful family powerful in prayer. So, I'm asking family that you help me pray that God will see us through, that He would just give us one day at a time as He normally does and that we’ll appreciate it and that my mom would be OK. Thanks family. Thank you so much for your prayers. God bless.

Hi family this is Melissa from Albertville Alabama. Brian, Jill, and Ezekiel bless you for all that you do for the body of Christ. I have a���a…a couple of prayer requests. And my sisters pastor his name is Darrell Davis his son was shot and he's not doing well, and he's developed Covid. Please pray for that family. And my nephew Elijah, I've called in several times. He has alopecia and he’s suffering from mental illness. He has left home and said he didn't want to anything to do with our family or God. He’s somewhere in California. We have no idea where he is. Please pray for him. Kingdom Seeker Daniel, Lord your call. I'm praying for you brother. I'm praying. God is so able. My sister who has metastatic breast cancer I didn't catch your name. God knows who you are. You said you had a compression fracture, I think. I'm praying for you. Jeremy Neph, please call if you can let us know how you're doing. So many calls have been so heavy on my heart. Just y'all just keep praying. Don't stop praying. God has us. I'm going through some health issues right now. I can't even go to church. But God is good. I love you family. You all keep us prayed up. Bye-bye.

[multifandom--imagine]

(@bisarcastic ❤)

Pairing: Sweeney x male!reader

(English is not my mother language, so sorry for any grammatical errors)

If you had to describe your life in one word, you could call it normal. You are a boy of good family, you study at an excellent college and your grades are absolutely excellent, you have a loving girl and many friends. Yes, luck has always turned on your side, even the most skeptical people became a little superstitious when they listened to your story.

But even if all your friends constantly ask you what your secret of success is, you never had the courage to reveal it. They would have taken you for a fool. It was obvious that part of your work was not your bag of flour, but every so often in your life who doesn’t need a hand?

Your mom has always told you since you were little some legends about leprechauns and how they brought good luck if their believers repaid them with some bread and some warm milk. And it seems quite absurd but you blindly believed in these fables, but above all you had the concrete proofs of their existence, because the food you left in your window was eaten by someone every night! Your mother justified this by saying that the food was eaten by the neighbor’s cat, but you never got discouraged.

Everything changed when one day the hot milk and the bread you left in your window were not eaten by anyone. You would have lied if you felt your heart crack slightly. But your courage didn’t stop fighting, you left that food again and again on the window, until at the end of that week and with the same result, you decided to give up. No leprechaun had come to see you and leave you some of his luck…What if your mother was right? If it was all fruit of your imagination?

And so you would have remained to regret if it hadn’t been for your group of trusted friends who invited you to a neighborhood pub, to drink a beer all together, between laughter and jokes. You accepted even if reluctantly, probably an evening of fun would have turned you away from negative thoughts and sad. So after having dressed quickly with a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, you went out to the meeting place.

The evening seemed to pass so slowly, that you would have given the gold of the world in order to be able to have fun as your companions could do, luckily your girlfriend had not come, she would have started to ask too many questions, to which you could not have given no answer … You just wanted to know why that “magic” had suddenly ceased, had you done something wrong? Were you crazy and just? Why was it so difficult to understand? By letting out a heavy sigh you walked away from your group of friends to approach the bar to order yet another glass of coca-cola, you didn’t love drinking very much and you were not ashamed to admit it. The barman was so busy that he didn’t even realize your raised hand, which was begging for his drink … ah that night was really unlucky.

“A glass of whiskey for me and a coca-cola flat for the brat next to me” said a husky masculine voice beside you. A tall, muscular man sat to your left, leaning his elbows heavily on the counter. Your eyes studied him with astonishment, while with as much astonishment you realized that the barman had begun to prepare your drinks. The man turned his gaze on yours and frowned, giving you a bold smile. For a moment you felt a sensation of goose bumps all over your body. “Oh come on (y/n) don’t look at me with that mistreated child’s look, I know exactly what you like” said the red-haired man, taking his glass of whiskey in his hand, drinking it all at once.

“H-How do you know my name?” You asked stammering, and if he was a…stalker?

“Ah…little petulant human, I know all about you, ever since you were tall like this” the man replied with a slight laugh as he indicated the height of his calves.

“You…You are crazy, you have a second attempt to explain to me how you know me before I call the police!” You exclaimed defensively. The red-haired man snorted bored, rolling his eyes.

“Oh fuck please don’t even call them the cops, I went out by miracle from the fucking police station…” he commented with a tired and nervous tone “I remembered you more kindly” he admitted, snapping his tongue on the palate.

Without hesitating another second you got up from your stool and with a firm step you started out of the pub, looking for any signal to be able to call the police or 911. You were about to activate the call, when suddenly a wide hand and strong, he tore your cell phone out of your hands, throwing it to the ground and breaking it into a thousand pieces. “Really (y/n)? Is that how you became, a hysterical pussy ready to ask for help and squawk like a fucking chicken?” said the red-haired man with an angry tone. "You know? I thought I’d come looking for you tonight, to apologize for my absence, for not having eaten the good food you had prepared me with so much affection the previous evenings, for not having supported you with my luck. But do you know what it is? fuck you, fuck you, your fucking prayers and your fucking hot milk and bread”

Did the words of that stranger leave you blown away, luck? Bread and milk? It was not possible… “You are…a leprechaun?” He asked in a whisper for fear of having misunderstood everything, there was probably some strange drug in that coca-cola. “Fuck! Bingo we have Mr intelligence!” the leprechaun replied bitterly “You also want a kiss and hug, so you feel more special?” “You know what? after all I don’t mind at all that you disappeared, I don’t even want luck from an asshole like you!" you screamed at the man with contempt, blinded by nervousness, while turning heels you went to your house.

Sweeney clenched his hands in two fists, to see you walk away from him was something that gripped him, his worst nightmare. How could he tell you that he had lost his lucky coin? And that without it he couldn’t have given you everything you needed? Well, what could he do …? In the end you were tied to him just for something selfish, you just wanted some luck and success, and what would the poor leprechaun hold in his hands if he lost both his powers and you?

As soon as you got home you locked the door, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake your parents. You sat on the bed and bringing your hands in your hair, you were immersed in your thoughts. Your emotions were a mix of adrenaline and anxiety, happiness and anger. Was it all true then? Did leprechauns exist, like so many other supernatural creatures ?!

"The last time I saw you like this was because you were afraid of thunderstorms as a child, (y/n)” you suddenly looked up at the imposing figure of Sweeney, who leaned his back against the wall.

“Jesus Christ! How did you get in?” you asked awkwardly.

"Nah, I’m better than that hippie” Sweeney commented, licking his lips. “It’s no use hiding it, I know you want to know why I’ve been missing for weeks…but I doubt you’ll like the answer, brat” he added suddenly serious, catching your attention.

“Then talk..”

“I fucked up (y / n), I lowered my guard in a fight with an idiot named Shadow Moon and now my source of luck is in the hands of his bitchy-wife…” the leprechaun said, getting closer towards you, to then kneel beside the bed so as to stand on your same height.

“Without my luck, I can’t fulfill your desires…I can’t protect you and without my lucky coin the people around me die like flies…if I lose you…I will never forgive myself” he admitted sighing heavily. “I can’t lose you too, I don’t want to be the cause of your death, rather I prefer to let you go, but aware that your life will not become a disaster”

There is a moment of silence, and while you stand still on the reflections you hear, Sweeney took the opportunity to stand up and walk away from you. How to think about how to deal with future suffering? How to think that the small gestures they make for him every day from your thirst for luck?

“Even if your delicacy of a bison, I feel that you are not a danger to me…”

“Sure? But come on (y/n)…There is no future with me…" the man said, scratching his head and biting his lip as he looked at you” In my centuries-old existence few people have entered my heart and the I lost…all of them…you are part of my heart (y/n)“ those words made you roll your eyes "And I love you and it scares the hell out of me" he admitted with a small smile with his fragile voice.

"What do you?” You asked incredulously.

“Ah (y/n) don’t lie to me, you asked me for a girlfriend so you won’t be fooled by your friends. Do you think I don’t know about your bisexuality, brat?”Sweeney said with an amused laugh.

It was really incredible…that leprechaer knew everything and everything about you even your most intimate and secret secrets.

“I know you would never be able to feel any feelings for a being like me anyway, so now that I told you the fuck you like, I take the trouble off” Sweeney concluded as he walked to the window.

No, you didn’t want him to leave, not now that your heart was beating mad, he had abandoned you once and you didn’t want it to happen again. Your arms wrapped around your chest as your face sank into his muscular back.

“Please…stay with me” you whispered timidly as your heart took control of your mind. You could feel that even the heart of the red-haired man had started beating quickly “I promise to cook you the warm milk and the best bread in the world” you add almost to corrupt him and in fact Sweeney let slip yet another sly laugh.

So without thinking about it much, he broke the embrace and turned to you with a smirk he said “Well if you tell me this way, I could do a little thought of it” he said, amused and without further delay, took your face in his hands, approaching the tips of your noses, which gently rubbed, to then make room for a soft kiss on the lips.

At that point you had ascertained that your heart was completely deceased, those chapped and hungry lips had sent your brain out of tune and the only thing you wanted at that moment was to go deeper into that kiss so sinful.

Sweeney seemed to read your mind and in fact he opened his lips, tapping the tip of his tongue against your mouth, searching for more contact. You gave him permission to move forward immediately and so you both enjoyed that supernatural and special kiss.

You walk away a few millimeters after an interminable time, to catch your breath and with a small smile you whispered, giggling “It is incredible how much I’m in love with a leprechaun, who is so stupid that he hasn’t told me his name yet”

“Sweeney, my name is Mad Sweeney”

#08

– Taiga 🐯

[discoveringthebible]

Written Easter 2020 Sermon: Luke 24:13-35

Easter 2020 Sermon Luke 24:13-35

Before I get started today, I wanted to pray for all of us. And I want to reassure those who are unsure, that God does hear our prayers and that God is grieved with what is happening in the world right now.

         Lord, God, Elohim, we thank you for this day and for the resurrection of your Son, Jesus Christ. We thank you for the opportunity for salvation and for the love that you have for each one of us. Heal this world, Father God. Take this disease that has ravaged communities all around the world and make it disappear. Heal the wounds of those who have lost loved ones, and heal those who are fighting everyday to save many more. The Bible tells us that when we don’t have the words to pray, that your Holy Spirit interprets for us. Interpret the hurt that we are experiencing as humanity. Hold us all close to You. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.

Imagine this: your Boss, one whom you had only known for about three years, but you worked, traveled and spent most of that time with, had been on the radar of some very jealous, older and feared elders in the business. Your Boss is working hard toward revolutionizing the career, with your help and the help of your eleven coworkers. Your Boss wants to redeem and restore the good reputation of the occupation.

         The elders, however, did everything they could to sabotage the work that you, your coworkers and your Boss are trying to do.

         The jealousy became so bad that they began spreading lies to the government about you, so the Government put all of you on their “watch list”.

         All of your clients had nothing but praises for your Boss, you and your coworkers and your honest and trustworthy work. However, a few elders paid off some of your clients to say bad things about you and to give you terrible reviews.

         What’s worse was that some of those elders also offered a large sum of money to you and to anyone willing to turn your Boss in. No way! You say, but one of your coworkers takes the bribe and sets your Boss up. And the set up comes when you least expected it—in the middle of the night. Your Boss knew it, but didn’t run away from it.

         The government police came to arrest your Boss, you and your coworkers who were still with you. In a panic, you and your coworkers scatter and run into the darkness, leaving your Boss behind, and as a result He is arrested.

         You go back into town early in the morning to find out what has happened to Him—feeling guilty about leaving Him behind the night before. Fighting to see through the crowds that have appeared, you realize He was beaten and mocked. He was still wearing his blood-stained clothes, which now looked like rags, barely hanging on Him.

         The Governor, who presides over the population where you live and work doesn’t want to persecute your Boss—he doesn’t deem it necessary, but the elders do. They persuade the crowd at the Governor’s house that your Boss deserves the highest form of punishment that can be carried out by the government—death. You couldn’t believe it. Even the Governor couldn’t understand it. He heard testimony from several people and found the entire thing ridiculous.

         Once a year, the government released a criminal back to the public. In an attempt to set your Boss free, the Governor presents a choice to the crowd: Your Boss, or a murderer. As you begin shouting your Boss’ name, the elders begin chanting the murderer’s name and motions the crowd to do the same. As hard as you try, hardly anyone is chanting your Boss’ name.

         Dismayed, the Governor lets the murderer go. He then addresses the crowd, wanting to know what punishment he should carry out. The elders begin chanting “Crucify Him!” And the crowd follows and does the same. Bound by the law and afraid that this matter will go above his head, the Governor does what the crowd commands. Jesus is taken away, only to reemerge hours later, with more bruises and covered in more blood. He was beaten again, so severely, He could barely walk. Then He was paraded through the streets, forced to carry the cross He will die on.

         You watch in horror as they drive nails into His body—first with his right hand, then his left. Then they place one foot over the other and drive an even larger nail through both feet, into the wooden cross, currently laying on the ground. And each time He screams in pain. Another crowd has gathered, some are horrified, some are overjoyed and others don’t know what to make of the situation. Government officials stand the cross up and put it into the hole they dug so it would stand up. Your Boss cried out in pain again. And slowly, H begins to suffocate along with two other criminals who were already hanging on their crosses.

         After He dies, He is buried. And then it’s the hard reality of What are we going to do now? Between you and your ten coworkers. Some of them go back to what they did before they were recruited by your Boss: fishing. As this was how they knew they could earn income. As for the one who betrayed your Boss, He was filled with so much remorse and regret that He killed himself.

         As you prepare to head back to your hometown of Emmaus, some women, who also worked with you had this remarkable story a couple of days later. They went to go mourn him, but His body was gone! It vanished! What could it mean? You wondered…

This story just happened to the two men we see in Luke 24:13-35. Their world had turned upside town and they were just trying to pick up the pieces.

The Gospel of Luke gives us a unique account of these two on their way to Emmaus. This story takes place after Mary, Jesus’ mother, Mary Magdalene, and Peter saw Jesus’ empty tomb first hand.

Verse 13: That same day two of Jesus’ followers were walking to the village of Emmaus, seven miles from Jerusalem. 14: As they walked along, they were talking about everything that had happened. 15: As they talked and discussed these things, Jesus himself suddenly came and began walking with them.

16: But God kept them from recognizing him.

17: He asked them, “What are you discussing so intently as you walk along?” They stopped short; sadness written across their faces.

18: Then one of them, Cleopas, replied, “You must be the only person in Jerusalem who hasn’t heard about all the things that have happened there in the last few days.”

19: “What things?”

Let’s stop here a minute and let this sink in. These two guys must have thought that this traveler came from under a rock. Jesus’ death had occurred during Passover Week.

Passover has been celebrated from the time when the Jewish people were enslaved in Egypt. Moses was trying to free the Jewish people, who were slaves, from Ramses II. But Pharaoh’s heart was hardened, which was why God sent the Ten Plagues to cover the entire land of Egypt. And the last one was a doozy: It claimed the firstborn male of every Egyptian household.

The Jewish Community was spared because they spread lamb or goat blood across their door frames to keep the death angel from taking their firstborn males. The death angel passed over them.

This Passover Celebration was the reason why Jews from all over the Empire (no, I’m not making a Star Wars pun), the Roman Empire were there in Jerusalem. Everyone knew what had happened to Jesus—all it seemed except for this unknown traveler. Plus, all of this was fresh on Christ’s mind—having gone through all the torture, suffering, death and resurrection.

Back to verse 19:

19: “What things?” Jesus asked. “The things that happened to Jesus, the man from Nazareth,” they replied. “He was a prophet who did powerful miracles, and he was a mighty teacher in the eyes of God and all the people. 20: But our leading priests and other religious leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and they crucified him. 21: We had hoped he was the Messiah who had come to rescue Israel. All this happened three days ago.”

Another pause here.

The Jewish community was under Roman government control and they were persecuted because they were Jewish. They had high taxes, and they were treated terribly. Many people thought that the Messiah was going to free them from the Roman government and become their King, like they had in the Old Testament—a King, like David or Solomon. However, they misunderstood the purpose of the Messiah and didn’t realize that Jesus came and His purpose was much bigger than just freeing them from the Romans. He had come to save their souls.

Verse 22: Then some women from our group of his followers were all at the tomb early this morning, and they came back with an amazing report. 23: They said his body was missing, and they had seen angels who told them Jesus is alive!

24: Some of our men ran out to see and sure enough, his body was gone, just as the women had said.”

25: Then Jesus said to them, “You foolish people! You find it so hard to believe all that the prophets wrote in the Scriptures. 26: Wasn’t it clearly predicted that the Messiah would have to suffer all these things before entering his glory?”

During this time, every man had a basic religious education—they grew up reading, memorizing and saying Scripture aloud. (Imagine for a moment, if we did this as a society. What would our neighborhoods, schools, jobs and lives look like if we actually studied the Scriptures on a daily basis?)

As Jesus points out, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that He was killed. His death was fulfilled in Scripture that was written several hundred years before Jesus was even born. (If you want to check out some of those passages, take a look at Daniel 9:24-27; Haggai 2:6-9; Isaiah 7:14; 8:14; 53:3-6; Jeremiah 31:15; Psalm 22; and Zechariah 9:9.) I will also post this list in the comments of this video. Psalm 22 is a great example. Christ even quoted part of the first verse while hanging on the cross! “My God, my God. Why have you abandoned me?” To those who heard Him, they would have known the entire psalm, including verses 16-18:

16: My enemies surround me like a pack of dogs, an evil gang closes in on me. They have pierced my hands and feet. 17: I can count all of my bones. My enemies stare at me and gloat. 18: They divide my garments among themselves and throw dice for my clothing.

Another great example is Isaiah 53:3-6: 3: He was despised and rejected—a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. We turned our backs on him and looked the other way. He was despised, and we did not care. 4: Yet it was our weakness he carried, it was our sorrows that weighed him down. And we thought his troubles were a punishment from God, a punishment from his own sins! 5: But he was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins. He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped so we could be healed. 6: All of us, like sheep, have strayed away. We have left God’s paths to follow our own. Yet the Lord laid on him the sins of us all.

Let this sink in for a moment.

“Yet the Lord laid on him the sins of us all.”

Isaiah lived approximately 700 years before Christ. Isaiah didn’t write these words about himself. This was the prophecy.

It was all laid out, but many people in Jesus’ time, had missed the true purpose of His coming. And even the ones who knew Jesus was the Messiah, they had misunderstood His real purpose, which was to set people free from their sins—not to restore Israel as a powerful military nation, as it was believed He would.

Back to Luke 24 Verse 27: Then Jesus took them through the writing of Moses and all the prophets, explaining the things concerning himself.

28: By this time, they were nearing Emmaus and the end of their journey. Jesus acted as if he were going on, 29: but they begged him, “Stay the night with us, since it is getting late.” So he went home with them.

30: As they sat down to eat, he took the bread and blessed it. Then it broke it and gave it to them. 31: Suddenly, their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. At that moment he disappeared!

32: They said to each other, “Did our hearts not burn within us as he talked with us?”

33: And within the hour they were on their way back to Jerusalem. There they found the eleven disciples and the others who had gathered with them, 34: who said, “The Lord has really risen! He appeared to Peter!”

35: Then the two from Emmaus told their story of how Jesus had appeared to them as they were walking along the road, and how they had recognized him as he was breaking bread.

This is a pretty incredible story.

Growing up, I had never paid much attention to the Resurrection story in Luke’s gospel. The small Southern Baptist church I was raised in tended to preach the Resurrection story from Matthew, Mark and John.

And if it wasn’t for Emmaus Church Community, a Nazarene church I started attending when I was seventeen, I still might not be paying that much attention to it. The other three gospels do not even mention Emmaus. One of the lessons that, as a Christian, I take away from this story is that sometimes, I miss it. And that isn’t always a great feeling—I don’t like to think of the things that I’ve goofed up, or things that I have missed or even messed up, but without that reflection, we don’t strive to be better. I don’t strive to be better.

Most who know me know I have felt a call into ministry—Deaf ministry to be exact. I was called back in August of 2002 when I was just thirteen years old. And this was during a time when a devastating life experience caused me to walk away from God. What I was taught about God didn’t match up with what I had witnessed and experienced and I couldn’t understand why, so out of extreme frustration, I took a break from God. There actually was no intention of returning to God, but I am grateful that God never left me. And about a year and a half later, I recommitted my life to Christ.

On August 9th 2002, I heard God’s voice. He said to me, “Cody, I want you to minister to those who cannot hear.”

I told my youth pastor about it. He was excited for the God encounter I had, probably because I needed it, but a part of him was excited because he was sitting next to me when it happened. After we returned from our week at summer camp, with all the other kids in youth group, my youth pastor thought it would be a great idea to share this call into ministry with the elders in the church. After explaining what had happened, they suggested that I look for ways to become a missionary. (At the time, I didn’t understand the difference between ‘minister’ and ‘missionary.’ Plus, in that church’s denomination, they do not believe women should preach from the pulpit.)

Over the course of the next ten years, and changing churches, every time I tried to sign up for a missionary trip, whether near or abroad, there would always be something that prevented me from going. And I had started to become frustrated. After much reflection and council, and a group trip with the college concert band I was a part of, God pointed out I had missed the mark.

I had misunderstood His call.

That’s a pretty big thing to miss.

God had called me to be a minister.

The dictionary defines ‘minister’ as “a person authorized to conduct religious worship, a member of the clergy, pastor.” It defines ‘missionary’ as “a person sent by a church into an area to carry on evangelism or other activities, as education or hospital work.”

Don’t get me wrong, both are wonderful calls from God, and quite frankly, we need more people to accept God’s calls, whether that is being a missionary, pastor, or something else.

Some of you might think I missed the mark because I was led to believe a different call. At first, I thought so too—but I don’t think so anymore. This call was mine. It didn’t belong to the church elders. A part of me thought that this call might include preaching, which was something I was against. I disliked public speaking. I despised it. Nope. I hate it. Part of it had to do with a speech impediment I had as a child. (And yet, somehow, I now hold a Bachelor’s Degree in Communication Science, and I took Advanced Public Speaking voluntarily.)

I couldn’t pronounce two letters of the alphabet: L’s and R’s.

But, do you know what the problem really was? Why I didn’t really own my call?

I was full of excuses. Just like Moses in Exodus 3 and 4.

However, I want to tell you that this passage in Luke 24 is about forgiveness of our shortcomings. It’s about love. It’s about a God who loved us so much that He would send His Son to suffer and die on a cross for us—including our excuses and reasons why we didn’t and sometimes just don’t get it. For the times that we missed the mark. Asking God to forgive us for our shortcomings and for the times we missed it is important. It’s also about forgiving ourselves and forgiving others. God’s forgiveness of our sin isn’t a direct result of us forgiving others, but it is about us realizing what forgiveness means.

Ephesians 4:32 says, 32: “Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.” As Christians, we are forgiven by God when we ask for it.

But what about those who don’t consider themselves Christian?

Right now, we are living in a pretty scary time, with a lot of uncertainty ahead. As we watch or read the news, we are reminded of our mortality as humanity when we see people succumbing to COVID-19.

I am here to tell you that through this difficult time: God loves you. God sent Jesus to live as human, to die on the cross for our sins and to be raised again.

John 3:16-17 says, 16: For this is how God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. 17: God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through him.

I encourage you to make peace with God. Salvation is a process, while the commitment is immediate, salvation is a lifelong process which includes a relationship with Jesus Christ, as well as a church family in which you can continue to learn and grow from. If you want to become a Christian, the first step is to pray. Ask God for forgiveness. Ask Him to forgive you for your shortcomings and sins. (This is a process that will continue also as a Christian, or at least, it should.) Ask Jesus to become your Savior and make a commitment to follow in Jesus’ footsteps. And then thank God for His Saving Grace.

Romans 10:13 says, 13: “For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Also see Joel 2:32).

If you prayed this prayer for the first time, or if you are recommitting yourself to God, please let me know in the comments below, or in a private message. I want to celebrate with you and help you find a Bible preaching church in which you can continue in this journey.

If you are not ready, that is okay too. If you have questions, or would like more information, also, please feel free to comment below, or to message me. I am willing to help you.

For my Christian brothers and sisters, we need to remember to pray for those who are not yet Christian. We need to be reaching out to those who are especially lost and confused as this Coronavirus ravages the world.

I want everyone to know that you are loved. You are valued. You matter.

Let’s pray:

Father God, we thank you for this message of grace and salvation. Open the hearts and ears of those who need this message, Lord. Let us remember, that You love us unconditionally. And that Your death on the cross and Your resurrection was for us. You did that, so that we wouldn’t have to die a sinner’s death. We love you Lord. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

I wanted to leave you all with a benediction, or blessing. It comes from 1 Corinthians.

“My love to all of you in Christ Jesus. Amen.” (1 Corinthians 16:24)

[wiggly-blue-shite]

Chapter 7 From The Top!

(Prof H X Ted)

Ted led Henry down the hallway of the apartment building.

"Here we are," Ted unlocked the door," Appartment 369!"

Henry chuckled to himself a little. That's right he just fucking laughed at 69. Jesus Christ he has a doctorate.

They walked into the apartment. It was way tidier than Henry was expecting it to be. It was also bigger than the exterior of the building led on. One of the first things that was apparent was the fucking bar just sitting in the middle of the living room. What kind of Sex in the City bullshit is this?

"Why is there a bar in your apartment?" Henry was perplexed, "if you have a bar in your house why would you suggest we got to a bar?"

"Well bars have other people. There's also of an atmosphere that a bar has that this place doesn't."

"What, an atmosphere of people drinking there problems away?" Henry chuckled. Ted smiled.

"The bar in your old place was pretty fucking cool. So I decided next place I would live in, if I survived would have a full bar." Ted patted the counter of the bar.

"This really is a full bar. You even have fucking maraschino cherries." Henry picked up a little Tupperware of cherries while inspecting the bar.

"Oh yeah those" Ted smiled, "just paying homage to Bill. I miss the lightweight sometimes."

"Ah yes Bill. Poor fellow. How exactly do cherries relate to Bill? I didn't really know him."

"Oh he just said that your bar wasn't a full bar because it didn't have cherries. The dork wanted to get waisted on Shirley Temples." Ted laughed a little.

Henry started getting to work on making two Shirley Temples. Ted seemed a little zoned out.

"Two Shirley Temples," Henry set down one of the drinks and held the other, "to the less lucky victims of the hatchetfeild 'incident'."

"Cheers" the two men tried to down it like it was a shot or something. That was maybe not the best way to drink that.

"Fucking PEIP calling it an incident. Like it wasn't a devastating catastrophe. Like it wasn't almost the end of humanity." Henry fiddled with a cherry stem.

"Fuck PEIP. I still fucking cant believe they almost had us change our names. Like what the fuck difference would that make!" Ted poured himself a shot. Henry did the same. There was a moment of silence as they downed the shots.

"I miss hatchetfeild." Ted sighed.

"Ditto. the moment PEIP lets people live there again, I'm moving back." Henry poured another shot for himself.

"I don't think I can go back" Ted stole Henry's shot, Henry poured himself a replacement, "I feel like I'd just spend every waking hour missing Charlotte, Bill, Melissa, and Mr. Davidson, That fucking psycho. You get what I'm saying?"

It's like how Henry could never set foot on that campus again. Not after what happened to them. It's just all the moments he spent with them are there. The football field, the diner, the old dorm building, the library. Their memory lives there now.

"That's logical," Henry was stared at the cherry stem.

"You good man?" Ted put his hand of Henry's shoulder. He was warm.

"Yes I'm perfectly fine."

Ted looked less than convinced.

"Why do you want to go back, anyway?"

"I miss my house." Henry realized that was probably not a great reason.

"It was a pretty baller house."

The two men downed another shot. There was a moment of stillness.

"How are you holding up." Henry patted Ted on the shoulder.

"Ehhh. Survivors guilt, you know how it is. Charlotte and Bill were much better people then me. They deserved to survive." Ted didn't look up from his drink.

"Ah yes survivors guilt, my dear old friend." Henry stared down at his drink.

"Old friend?" Ted looked a little concerned.

"Eh just something that happened in my college days." Henry, didn't really want to talk about what happened back then.

"College days." Ted looked quizzically, he's an accountant he can probably put two and two together. Henry just wanted the alcohol to kick in. Damn this cursed alcohol tolerance.

"So a date?" Henry took a swig of his drink. He hoped this would throw Ted off. It did not.

"Is that a problem for you?" Ted smirked and leaned towards Henry. This backfired very quickly.

Then as if dead god answered his prayers, the alcohol kicked in. Henry started giggling.

"Oh that's no problem." Henry smirked and leaned in as well. He could see Ted looking at his lips. Ted pulled away.

"You're drunk."

"So are you" Henry giggled.

"Do you need me to call you a cab."

"Boo I don't wanna go home. I could just stay here." Henry winked and giggled some more.

"You can stay here if you don't want to go out at this time of night." Ted started cleaning their glasses.

"I'll stay here." Henry inches closer to Ted.

"You can sleep in my room. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Aww what a gentleman."

"Jesus Christ your like a small child."

God he sounded like Stu, such a buzz kill. He's allowed to have his fun! Memories started to flood into his brain. Memories of the dorm room and the records and the library. Don't cry Henry. Don't fucking do it. God damnit.

"Holy shit are you ok I didn't mean it like that." Ted rushes over to Henry.

Henry was just blubbering. He could only manage short words in between sobs.

"They're... go-o-one..."

"Henry?"

"M-m-m-my ... fa-au-lt"

Ted pulled Henry into a hug. Henry just gripped onto Ted's shirt. Warm. So warm.

The rest of a night was kind of a blur to Henry.

~~~~

Did you catch my starship reference?

Of course you did, I'm just being dumb

[bee-kathony]

McTavish & Beauchamp | Ch. 19 “Wild Ride” 

a/n: Hello! I hope you enjoy this chapter and a bit of a wee flashback to the old days. And as always, thank you @jules-fraser for the cute lil moodboard! Thank you as always for reading <3

Masterlist here

Present Day - Scotland, January 1747

It had been nearly one year since the battle of Culloden. One year since thousands of highlanders and British soldiers died on that bloody moor. I was only thankful that Jamie wasn’t among them, and that we hadn’t got caught up in a battle that was destined to be lost.

Lallybroch had gone mostly untouched, save for the random passing by of redcoats. I still saw Jamie tense up every time they came to ask for food or shelter. It wasn’t an easy time to be a scot in Scotland.

Because of the effects of the Jacobites losing the battle, the highlander way of life was all but fading away. I saw how some of the families of Broch Mordha appeared defeated, their culture being stripped away from them. It wasn’t until I thought back on my brief time here, that I found I considered myself a Scot and a Brit no longer.

Crossing my arms, I looked out the front window, watching as the most recent redcoats left, their bags full of potatoes and what little food we had to spare. I was thankful, for our own sake, that I had told Jenny to plant potatoes on the farm in preparation for the famine that was spreading through the land.

I sighed softly when I felt Jamie’s presence behind me, and leaned back against him. “We have many more years of this, I’m afraid.”

“Aye, as ye said, the British will cover this land in search of remaining supporters of the Jacobites?” He wrapped both his arms around me, slightly swaying as we faced the window to the world beyond.

“Yes, but soon, if my memory is correct, all supporters will either be imprisoned or sent to the colonies.” I turned in his arms, looking up into my husband’s face. “It won’t be too long before life will start to feel normal again.”

“I can’t help but feel a sadness when I think about the battle,” Jamie said, his eyes cast down staring but not really looking. “Dougal will have died I expect. The man wouldna have gone down wi’out a fight though,” he chuckled softly at the thought of his stubborn, bull headed uncle.

“No,” I smiled. “He wouldn’t have, but Jamie,” I lifted his chin, staring into his eyes and his tense posture softened instantly in my arms. “Who knows what would have happened had you gone to fight. We could be separated right now or worse, you could be dead!”

Jamie cupped my face with both his hands, and kissed me firmly. “I’m no dead and we are together, Sassenach. Ye ken that I willna be parted from ye, not for a day, not for twenty years. You… and the bairns are my home.”

“Even a home that is overrun by British soldiers,” I smiled weakly.

“Sassenachs… all of them,” Jamie smirked, and I laughed, leaning into his embrace.

I heard the sound of horses outside and feared that the redcoats had come back, but when I turned to look, it was only Ian, bringing out Donas to wash. Watching that wild horse brought back many memories, one in particular made me blush and bury my face into Jamie’s chest.

“Why are ye hidin’ away?” Jamie said, fingers lightly stroking my hair.

“I was just remembering something, from before we were married,” I blushed even deeper, looking up at him.

“Are ye goin’ to tell me or do I have to guess?”

“Well,” I smiled, clasping my hands at the base of his spine. “It involves Donas, a dark night and your wandering hands.”

Laughing, Jamie tilted his head back, the tips of his ears turning pink. “If ye are thinkin’ of the night when ye couldna behave yerself, then aye… I see why yer cheeks are rosy.”

I swatted at his chest, “Excuse me, James Fraser. It wasn’t I who was misbehaving, if I recall properly, it was you Mr. McTavish who couldn’t wait a second longer until we found somewhere private.”

Jamie’s hands slid down over my backside and he pushed me against him, “We spent many nights ridin’ on a horse, Sassenach. Dark nights…” he kissed me slowly, “Yer body wedged between my thighs.”

“If you start talking like that, you might just find your wife pregnant again,” I smirked, rubbing the tip of my nose against his.

“Oh aye… I ken exactly what my wife likes to hear,” Jamie inhaled a deep breath before tightening his grip on me, unexpectedly picking me up in his arms, as he started walking upstairs. “Now, mo nighean donn, remind me of that night in the dark woods.”

3 years ago

I rode next to Jamie on my horse Brimstone, stealing glances at him riding every chance I could. The journey to collect rents had been long and I was looking forward to the end of it. We were both eager to find time alone, preferably with a bed so that we could finally sleep together. It’d been weeks since our first time together at Leoch and I promised him that once we found a quiet place… we could do it again.

There’s something about being on a horse that makes you aroused. I don’t know if its the constant bouncing or the thought of riding something else, but I couldn’t stop imagining what Jamie would feel like inside of me when we could have sex properly.

Just as I was about to lean over to him and ask him a question, something dashed out in front of us, scaring Brimstone. She rose up on her back legs and I slid off to the ground with a thud, landing in the dirt. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” I muttered and sat on my knees, looking around — Brimstone was nowhere to be seen… run off into the woods.

“What the hell?” Dougal stopped our party and slid off, followed quickly by Jamie who was at my side, helping me stand.

“I think it was an animal that spooked her, I can’t be sure.” I huffed and wiped a bit of dirt from my sleeves.

“I’m sure the filly willna have gone too far,” Jamie said, his hand on my lower back.

Dougal appeared angry, as if it was my doing that spooked the horse. “Weel, we dinna have time to go and look for the beast. Claire,” he turned to me. “Ye’ll ride wi’ young Jamie until we find yer horse again.”

I nodded and that was that. The rest of the men waited until Dougal was back on his horse near the front of our party before trotting in line behind him. Jamie turned to me, and pulled me in close for a hug. Even though we needed to be careful of anyone seeing us act so intimately, his embrace was very welcome.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?” He brushed his fingers over my cheek.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I smiled. “I hope Brimstone is okay, poor thing.”

Jamie chuckled, and then helped me to climb onto his own horse, Donas. “We’ll find her or she’ll find us more likely.” I held out my arm and he climbed up, sitting behind me with both his thighs surrounding me.

“Mmm, I could get used to riding like this,” I sighed. “It reminds me of when we first met, and we rode all that night together.”

“Aye,” Jamie placed a quick kiss on the back of my head before pulling on the reigns and following the rest of our group. “To be honest wi’ ye, Mistress Beauchamp… I had a terrible cockstand that night and I fear ye’ll give me another here soon.”

I laughed, leaning back against his chest, feeling comfortable in his arms. “It’s not my fault!”

Jamie slid one of his hands around my hip, squeezing my arse through the thick wool fabric, “Oh aye, tis. That sweet round arse wedged between my thighs. How could I no?”

“You better behave yourself, Mr. McTavish or someone will see us,” I turned my head to look at him, smirking.

“We’ll be riding well into the night, Sassenach…” he looked down at me, his eyes dark blue, the same look I had seen our first night together. “No one will be able to see if my hand slides under all yer wee layers.”

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” I moaned and prayed that night would come quickly.

++++++

I was granted my prayer three hours later, and we were consumed with the dark of the night. We hadn’t seen any sign of Brimstone on the road and while I loved my horse, I was perfectly fine to ride like this with Jamie everyday until we returned to Leoch.

With Jamie’s strong body behind me, holding me on the horse, I had found myself drifting off to sleep several times while we rode. Now, I was waking slowly to the sound of Jamie whispering something in my ear.

“Hmmm?”

“I said, are ye awake, Mistress Beauchamp?” He chuckled softly.

I nodded and then remembered it was almost pitch black, save the dim glow of the moon, “Yes. I’m awake now, no thanks to you!”

Jamie laughed again, and I wondered how far ahead the other men were, but that thought and all others quickly left my mind when I felt one of Jamie’s large hands slid across my stomach and rest just under my breasts.

“I didn’t think you were serious, Jamie!” I said in a hushed tone.

“Aye, I take my word verra seriously, Sassenach. And I mean to please ye best I can.” Jamie kissed my temple and his hand squeezed against my chest. I was glad he was holding me so tightly because if not then I would have surely fallen off.

“I can’t wait until we find an inn or tavern with a bed, Christ,” I bit my lip as Jamie’s hand moved to grasp my left breast, my nipples hardened instantly. “Jamie,” I sighed.

“Ye best keep quiet, Sassenach,” Jamie whispered into my ear. “I slowed down a bit so the men are a ways in front of us, but I dinna think ye want yer wee noises reachin’ their ears?”

“Mum’s the word,” I giggled and settled myself back against Jamie, ready for whatever he promised to do to me. With one hand on the reigns, he was having some difficulty pulling at my bodice and stays to properly fondle my breasts. “Here,” I reached for the reigns, “I’ll take them for a bit.”

He gladly handed them over and then both his hands were on my chest, tugging the material and pulling it down. I shivered as I felt the cold night air across my breasts, my nipples hardening even more, if that were possible. His hands covered my breasts, simply cupping them and then he pressed his face against my neck. “Sassenach… every time I touch ye, I dinna think I can stop.”

“Don’t stop, Jamie.” I said softly, tightening my grip on the reigns. I needed to be careful or else we would both fall off Donas or worse… go trotting past the rest of the men ahead of us with Jamie’s hands up my dress.

One hand cupped my breasts, his calloused palm felt rough on the soft skin. I had to bite my lip to keep from making sound as he started to flick my nipple with his thumb. I nearly bit my tongue when I felt his other hand touch my ankle and begin its ascent to my thigh.

“Ye sure ye’ve got the reigns, Mistress Beauchamp?”

“Yes,” I sighed. “I’ve got them, please, Jamie.”

“I’ve got ye, Sassenach.” Jamie whispered and then his hand was on my thigh, slowly moving inwards and I flinched when I felt his fingers trace up and down. He didn’t have a lot of room to move through all of the thick layers of my dress and the close proximity to the saddle — but he made a way.

“Uhhhm,” I moaned, shutting my eyes as he touched the lips of my slit. My limbs were already beginning to melt, and I felt Jamie pull me to him, shifting my hips so that he had more access to me. With a grunt and a few Gaelic expletives, he finally pushed his middle finger inside of me. “Oh God.”

“Shhh,” he chuckled. Jamie kept his finger in me, barely moving it, and then he started to move his thumb on my clit and I nearly lost my grip on the reigns. Squeezing them tight, I tucked my head under Jamie’s chin, breathing heavily. “Yer so wet, Sassenach.”

“Fuck,” I moaned as he moved his finger slowly, my thighs twitched and I very badly wanted to jump off the horse and ride Jamie instead.

He continued to flick and pull at my nipple as his other fingers worked their way inside of me, stretching me best they could. It wasn’t anything compared to having his cock in me though.

It wasn’t just about the sex, or the way he made me feel physically. Jamie made me feel things I had never felt in my life. He made me feel loved, desired and whole. I had only known him a short time, but I knew that if I ever made it to the stones… I wouldn’t be able to leave him behind.

[kaitlynskpop]

“where all is holy”

??? x reader [prologue]

2.5k words

                              seven deadly sins! au

    There was no light streaming in through the stained glass picture of Mary, and that’s how you knew you were in trouble.

    The church floorboards creak, and you sit on your haunches from your spot kneeling before the altar. A sudden chill fills the air, and you pull your jacket tighter around your form before bravely turning around to catch the culprit of the noise in the air.

    “Father Bang?” you whisper, your eyes scanning the pews. However, the burly man was nowhere to be found. You were alone in the room. Swallowing, you turn back to the altar, when a chorus of beautiful laughter fills the room. You watch as the candles you had lit blew in a sudden wind that swept through the room, so harsh that your jacket rises away from your body and flies off of you. You try to reach out at the catch the fabric, only for it to violently slam against a desk in the corner of the room, causing a piece of paper, which caught the breeze shaking the room, to fly through the air.

    The paper floats down in front of you, landing on the table which you had set up the candles on. You gasp as the piece of paper begins to burn at the corner, quickly rising to grasp the paper and blow on it to stop the firing from spreading. The paper, burnt in the corner, appeared old. It was yellow, and the writing on it was light gray instead of the dark black that was associated with newly written pieces. Gnawing on your lip, you skim over the paper.

    Unfortunately, you didn’t recognize the prayer.

    O Lord Jesus Christ, pattern of humility, who emptied yourself of your glory, and took upon the form of a servant: root out of us all pride and conceit of heart, that, owing ourselves miserable and guilty sinners, we may willingly bear contempt and reproaches for your sake, and glorying in nothing but you, may esteem ourselves lowly in your sight. Not unto us, O Lord, but to your name be the praise, for your loving mercy and for your truth’s sake.

Amen.

    “Do you think she’ll get the hint now?” comes a new voice, quiet while swimming through your ears. It was deep, but seemed far away -- almost like people were talking while you were dozing.

    You look up and yet again find no one.

    Your hands tremble as they clutch the paper. Something was so wrong and you didn’t know what was going on. You swear you could hear voices as if they were in the room.

    “Should we make ourselves visible to her?” It came from your far right, near the back of the sanctuary. The voice was deep and made you shiver. It held anything but good intentions, sensual in its delivering.

    “I’m sure the poor thing would be frightened,” came a third voice, kind and upbeat. However, you knew better than to trust someone just because they seemed nice. This voice is perhaps the closest to you, so close you swear you hear breath against your ear.

    “Maybe I should help her relax,” comes a purr from the second voice again.

    “Maybe you should shut up,” comes a fourth voice, teasingly.

    “And my handsome face is too much for this kid right now,” comes a fifth voice.

    “I think she’s having trouble seeing us because she doesn’t want to believe this is happening, not because we’re necessarily blocking ourselves.” This is the sixth voice, seeming to come from the second pew down. Your head snaps in the direction. There was a certain intellectualism about the voice, like someone who knew what they were talking about.

    “Aw, look at how she reaction to Greed’s voice,” coos a seventh voice. “Not fair! I want to have fun with her too!” You picture a young man pouting as he utters these words.

    “Well, he is the leader,” comes a dry response from the first voice, the one that seemed like you were listening from underwater. Perhaps it was the lazy, biting drawl of it that made it vibrate within your ears.

    “But Pride’s been doing this the longest out of all of us, and she didn’t react nearly as much as she did to Greed!” argues the seventh voice, a high-pitched whine.

    “That’s because Pride only talks about his handsome face,” comes the same dry response.

    “What else is there to talk about?” This interruption between the first and seventh voice comes from, who you assume is Pride. “My face is the reason girls like her fall for me.”

    “Yeah, I’m sure they do,” comes the sarcastic response from the first voice.

    “Geez,” barks the third voice with laughter rumbling throughout the church. “Sloth’s on a roll today.” This was the voice that had come from right next to you, and you could feel the warmth of a body next to you.

    You gather your wits just enough to stammer out, “H-hello?”

    Silence fills the sanctuary and you knew in that moment you were going crazy.

    “Let’s show her us,” begs the second voice. There was a begging tone within his words. “God, I can’t wait to be inside of her. She’s so pure.”

    “You’re fucking gross,” comes the fourth voice. “God, you’re stinking up this hellhole with your fucking horniness, Lust.”

    “You’re the one that’s gross, Wrath,” retorts Lust. “We all know you’re just as eager to be inside that tight little body.”

    There was a grunt of disgust as a reply. You can picture someone curling their lip in response to Lust’s words.

    “Fine,” comes Greed, the one who seemed to have all the answers. “Let’s show her us.”

    You feel your breath catch in your throat, and you close your eyes, shaking your head. “You’re all not real,” you cry out, placing your hands over your ears. “Oh my god, I need to get home.” Too bad you didn’t recognize your mistake.

    “Who did you just say, little girl?” This was the originally happy seventh voice. This time, his voice was laced with darkness and a metallic taste that could only be associated with blood fills your mouth. “Did you really just say his name in front of us? You should know better, just from listening to us. We’re going to have to punish you, now.”

    Murmurs and shouts and grunts of agreement rise from the faceless group. You fall to the ground, holding your head and rocking back and forth. You remember a time when you were punished by God through visions of what could only be a past life, and you feared the worst: that you were once again going to be punished with visions and voices. That’s the only logical reasoning behind the voices you hear within the church.

    “Please, please, please pleasepleaseplease,” you beg. “God, don’t do this to me again. I’m begging you, Lord. I-I don’t know what I did wrong! I’ll pray every day for hours again!” At this point you’re rambling. “Not again, just please, not again, I’ve tried so so hard to please you so that they don’t pop up again-”

    “Oi, this is really pissing me off,” comes the first voice. Sloth? “She keeps mentioning Him.”

    Several footsteps ring in your eyes, and there was the creaking of the sanctuary’s wooden floor. You tremble, knowing that divine punishment was about to be delivered to you.

    “Open your eyes, girl,” purrs Lust.

    And when you do, you jump at seeing seven young men in front of you. What was more surprising was how beautiful each of them were.

    Each of them had their own unique characteristics which made it very clear that although they could raise hell together, they were more than capable of doing so by themselves.

    “I am Lust,” purrs a handsome man, oozing strength and sensuality. You noticed the slightest of all scars on his cheek. If anything, it contributed to his beauty.

    “I’m Gluttony,” comes the distinct seventh voice, the one which rings like a bell. His soft cheeks made it appear as if he was constantly smiling -- which he was doing right now.

    “Greed,” says another man. You once again shudder at his deep voice and peer at who it was. He was the tallest of the men around you, with silver hair.

    “Wrath.” A man joins the introductions. His gorgeous blonde hair was taken back by a tie, his bangs sweeping the corners of his face. He had soft, round lips.

    “Pride.” This man was perhaps the most otherworldly beautiful of them all, tall and thin as idealized by the world. He had pitch black hair, and appeared the oldest out of everyone. You remember vaguely, as you were enraptured by his beauty, that pride was the original sin, and the most serious. Another shudder runs through your body at the information your mind supplied.

    “I’m Envy.” Following the voice, you encountered an ethereal man with blonde hair. He had the most round face out of all the members, his cheeks soft and almost -- if you were not being serious -- squishy. It reminded you of a child, and you would have guessed that he was the youngest if you had not first met Lust.

    The quiet voice, the one which echoes as if underwater, finally speaks up. “Sloth,” he says, eyes flickering to you and away from you just as quick, as if he couldn’t bare to give anyone the time out of his day. There was a lazy quality about him, from his apathetic face to his crimped hair that made it appear as if he had just gotten out of bed.

    You have slowly been piecing together all of the introduction. Oh, God. You felt like you were going to be sick. You hoped desperately that this was all a joke by God above. There was no way the Seven Sins themselves could appear before you.

    “Yes, we are the Seven Sins,” Greed says, as if reading your mind. You startle, slowly crawling backwards until your back hit the altar. They edge closer to you, their red eyes sharp and all-seeing. You swear you hear Sloth snarl in annoyance, as if saying, This puny human made me move.

    You still immediately, but you could feel your body shaking against the cold church ground. You were sure you were hallucinating, or that the visions were back again.

    “You’re ours now,” says Lust, a smirk edging at the corner of his perfect lips. You’re an entranced as you are terrified by the motion.

    “W-what do you mean?”

    “(F/n) (L/n), you have been born to absolve the Seven Deadly Sins, the most serious of all sins, of their wrongdoings,” says Wrath unusually solemnly.

    “You’re wrong!” you cry out, bringing your trembling hands to your face.

    “Oh?” The temperature drops as much as Wrath’s voice. You are no longer quivering out of fear. No, it was if any hint of warmth had been completely ripped out of you in a single moment. You could feel your body beginning to freeze over, and you gasp. The air was so still, any dust in the air freezing in its place. The church is still, all at Wrath’s power. Your eyes frantically check the man’s face, and yet he seems calm. That had to be the most terrifying expression you had ever seen, not just because of his actions, but because of how little he cares about it. “Should we light this entire town on fire then? Would you like that? Maybe we can start with this little church you’ve been attending since before you were born.”

    Fear, icy and cold, runs through your veins. You can physically feel the sweat collecting at the top of your head, under your bangs. You don’t think you’d ever been this terrified in your entire life.

    “I’m sorry.” The words coming out of your mouth. “You-you just have to understand, this is hard to believe. That it’s happening.”

    “We don’t have to understand shit,” sneers Envy, his unusually friendly face tight with disgust. His pouty lips were pursed in disgust. His hooded eyes are wide, red irises boring down into your very soul. You gasp as you see a vision: Envy ripping your heart from your body, holding the bloody organ in his hand as a cackle rings through your head. You shudder in fear, your bottom lip trembling and tears prickling into your eyes.

    “Oh my --”

    “Don’t you dare finish that!” snaps Gluttony, brow furrowing. “You really don’t want to piss me off, little girl.”

    A murmur of agreement arises from the men. No, not men. Demons. Beings of higher power. Sins.

    “So, what will be your choice?” This time it is Greed, perhaps the most collected and calculating of the bunch. “Will you help us or shall we kill you now?”

    “I vote we kill her now,” muses Wrath. “She holds no use for me. Like this measly human could help me.”

    Gluttony hums to acknowledge Wrath’s words, before turning back to give you a once-over. “I don’t know. She’s pretty cute when she’s petrified.” A wicked grin crosses his affable face.

    “Oh, believe me, I know she’s cute,” says Lust. His honeyed tongue causes goosebumps to arise on your arms. “I’ve been enraptured with her beauty since we arrive. I wonder how humans feel when they’re under you.” The terrifying part was you couldn’t tell if he was talking about fucking you or slaughtering you, or doing both.

    “Can we please get this over with?” snaps Sloth. “I don’t want to be here any longer than we have to be.”

    “I agree,” says Pride. He turns his ethereal face towards you, his plump lips frowning. “So? What about it, human?”

    You chew your lip, before blurting out, “What are my options? Help you and live, or refuse and die?”

    “Look who’s finally catching on,” Sloth responds drily.

    “Those aren’t options!”

    “Yes, they are,” argues Envy. “So cast your vote!”

    You grab on to the wall behind you and stand slowly, like an antelope arising in front of a lion. “I…”

    “Any day now,” Sloth sighs.

    “...will help.”

    “Great!” cheers Gluttony, clasping his hands together to make a singular clap. “I knew you were smart!”

    “I’m glad you agreed,” interrupts Greed. “Now tell me, which one would you like to absolve first?”

    Knowing there was no way out of this, and that this was too long to be a hallucination or vision, you bite down on your lip before opening your mouth. You didn’t know the enormous impact your words would have on your life. Oh, if only you could stay this oblivious forever. “I think I’ll begin with --”

[christianmenatwork]

Lay Hold-Selah50-CMAW141

S

Before I get into Something that's on my heart today, I want to share something with you.

I seriously considered these past 2 weeks changing this podcast to one that you need to pay for to listen to, through Patreon or Glow which partners with Libsyn the media host I use. 

I've been praying for a while now that God would confirm with me that I should continue doing the podcast and that he would also show me a way I could continue to produce it in a way that it would pay for itself as well as pay me something for the time I put into it.  I'm trying to be a good steward of my personal resources and make sure that the time I put into the podcast is worth, because there's an opportunity cost with every choice we make.  I have a full-time job but outside that job I spend on average 10 hours per episode, or 40 hours every month, which of course takes from time I could be spending with my family and other things at home.  I have very low operating expenses for this podcast, about $500 per year, for 3 reasons.  The first reason is I do everything.  I don't do any outsourcing of the steps needed to plan, produce, edit and release episodes.  The second reason my operating expenses are low is that I don't pay myself and never have.  The third reason is that I don't spend any money on promotion or really anything other than producing episodes.  I'm not complaining, I love doing this podcast, but I've come to a point where I need to find a way to produce some revenue.

This past week was, I believe an answer to prayer.  I received an order from a man named Jeremy for my book Jesus is at Work - Having Joy and Purpose at Your Current Job.  As some of you know, I wrote and published this book through Tate Publishing.  I had to pay $5,000 to Tate for their publishing and for the initial purchase of books.  They didn't do really anything to sell the book and then the company went bankrupt and the leaders were arrested for fraud.  You can Google this to confirm what I'm saying.  The result is that I have a bunch of copies of my book sitting in my closet which aren't doing anyone any good and I'd love to sell them.

If you appreciate the content on this podcast and have been blessed by it and want to support what I'm doing, please buy my book Jesus is at Work.  Look it up on Amazon.com and you'll see it on sale for $15 from Spirit Led Men.  That's me a 3rd party seller.  If you buy it, I'll mail it to you and I'll get paid.  In the future, I'll have some other ways you can support this podcast, but for now if you could do that it would help me and you will be blessed by the book as well.

  Lay Hold!

 Phil 3:12-14 "Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. 13 Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, 14 I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."

Strongs G2638 katalambano "

to lay hold of so as to make one's own, to obtain, attain to, to make one's own, to take into one's self, appropriate

to seize upon, take possession of"

Last night watched Season 2 Episode 6 of "The Chosen" where Mary Magdalene did what Baptists would call back sliding.  She was redeemed by Jesus but felt unworthy and went back to her old life of sin and wickedness before being sought out by 2 disciples and brought back to Jesus.

  It reminded me of something I learned this past year that salvation has 3 parts 1) Redemption 2) Sanctification 3) Glorification.  Redemption occurs when we're born again.  Glorification won't occur until our bodies are made perfect after we die or Jesus returns.  Sanctification is what you might call "the messy middle".

  It also reminds me of another great passage from Philippians, chapter 2:11-13 where Paul says "12 Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; 13 for it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure."

  So in this messy middle we call the life of a Christian, or more specifically for our podcast the life of a Christian man in the workplace, we are to work out our salvation with fear and trembling, which for me means that we should take this very seriously and realize how incredibly important it is.  God's will is NOT for us to sit back with confidence that our ticket to heaven has been bought and we should just live our life as we choose knowing we'll eventually be with Jesus in Heaven. 

  Verse 14 says " Do all things without [d]complaining and disputing,[e] 15 that you may become blameless and [f]harmless, children of God without fault in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world,"

  Blameless does not mean perfect but rather that we are pursuing perfect obedience to God.

  In John 17:3 Jesus says "And this is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent."

  Sanctification is the adventure of a lifetime, not a holding pattern until we die.  It IS eternal life, knowing God now, here, while we are on earth.

  Both the Phillipians passages I've ready illustrate so well the mysterious way that God is actively involved in our lives, in our sanctification, while still expecting that we play a role in the process as well.  We are to lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of us.  We are to work out our salvation because God works in us both to will and to do for our good pleasure.  Do I fully comprehend that, no.  Am I blown away by how cool it is, YES.  We don't do good to be saved.  We do good because we are saved.  And remember salvation is redemption, sanctification, and glorification.

  Now I'd like to read to you the First Light devotion I got from Pastor Brian Biggers this morning that inspired me to talk about this topic for this Selah Episode.  By the way, if you haven't signed up for his devotion I recommend you do it right away.  For one thing, he just sent out an email last week indicating the church he's pastor of, Lambs Chapel, is seeking a new senior pastor because he's retiring, so go to tlcalive.com, go to the bottom where it says connect, and click on "First Light"

  "I press on that I may lay hold of that for which Christ has laid hold of me."

    How I love this verse and the truth that it conveys! The words "lay hold" are "arrested" in our modern vernacular. I have been arrested a few times (none recently) and I assure you it can be a rather forceful event! The Bible states here that Jesus "arrested" those of us that follow Him. Just as a policeman pursues a criminal to arrest him Jesus pursued us relentlessly to make us His. "Arresters" don't ask, and they don't take no for an answer. How thankful I am that He pursued me and "arrested" me for Himself! But, notice the rest. This verse states that He "arrested" me for something, and I am to "arrest" that which He "arrested" me for. What is it that He "arrested" me for? Heaven? Absolutely! But what about now? His Word reveals the treasury of what He has promised when I am in His family. Holy Spirit power to live, love, be at peace, have hope in my heart, live joyously regardless of circumstances among other great gifts. He promises a life of adventure as I experience His activity in me and around me. He has promised great relationships that He has planned for me. The catalog of faith benefits is almost endless! Obvious question? If He has promised all this great stuff as a result of my "arrest" by Him, where is it? I am willing to be blessed, but I don't see the goods! Go back and read the rest of the verse. You will see that His promised blessings are not automatic, nor do they fall like ripe cherries on me as a believer. What does it say? I must "press on" and "lay hold" of what my heart longs for. A passive religious attitude will leave you blessingless! (it’s a word) I hear aggression in this great Word! I hear a man saying, "if Christ died to bless me then I will go after it until I get it". I may not know how but He don't lie, and I am not going to give up on what He has promised. Do not settle (hate that word) for a less that abundant life when He died to give you something much better! Have you resigned to "getting by"? May I appeal to you from scripture? Do you not think that He who created everything beautiful from the sunset to the coastal plain to the bluebird to the smile of a newborn cannot create a beautiful life? Quit wishing and go fishing! Quit existing and start dreaming again! Decide to "lay hold" of what He died to purchase for you!

      Father, forgive me for living so “little” after you planned so big. I want everything I was “arrested” for! Lead me as I press on to lay hold of your promises. Every single one of them!

E

  L

He who tills his land will have plenty of bread, But he who follows frivolity will have poverty enough!

Proverbs 28:19 - https://www.biblegateway.com/passage?search=Proverbs%2028:19&version=NKJV

    A

Ben LaCorte

Paul in Athens started with what they believed, and then pointed out the hole in their beliefs and filled it in with the true Gospel

  H

John Shirey

Tips - it's like gardening and weeding, do a little bit often rather than putting it off

Check out this episode!

[imagineclaireandjamie]

The Last All-Clear: (7)

Notes from Mod Bonnie

This story is a series following the premise: “Imagine if Jamie travelled through the stones, but instead of finding Claire in Boston he found himself having arrived years too early, when the War was still happening and Claire had yet to meet him… What would he do?”

Formatting note: Bolding in Jamie’s letters = underlining

Previously:

(Part 1) September 17, 1942: A Rusty Nail 

(Part 2) December 3, 1942: Comb and Glove 

(Part 3) 1943: Blood and Whisky | (Part 4) 1943-1944: Gifts and Ends

(Part 5) June, 1944: The Road | (Part 6) June, 1944: The Ditch  

(7) Samhain, 1946: Inverness

“Did you have many scots in your charge during the war?” Frank asked quite suddenly. I was more happy to change the subject from his kilted spectre, which, while surely utter nonsense, had given me chills.

“Yes, there were quite a few! There was one in particular,” I added, unable to stop the grin from blooming across my face at the memory. “He was a piper in the third seaforths. He couldn't stand being stuck with a needle. He was—” 

I stopped, the implication suddenly settling over my shoulders like cold, creeping damp. Not a non-sequitur, then?  

His expression did nothing to suggest otherwise, nor his flat, “Right,” as he averted his gaze. 

Why, you bloody bastard! 

“What is it, exactly, ah...” Carefully. Oh-so-carefully. “...that you're asking me, Frank?”

He didn’t even miss a beat. “When I saw that chap staring up at you, I thought he might be someone you'd nursed. Someone who might be looking for you now. To reconnect.”

“To ‘reconnect?’” My breath shortened and for one wild moment, I felt the hands of panic around my throat. How could he have known? was the unbidden thought. 

“It wouldn't be unusual,” he was saying, quite gently. “It wouldn't be surprising if you'd sought some comfort, or—” The anxiety vanished as my senses returned, along with my absolutely righteous indignation. “Are you asking me— If I've been unfaithful?” 

It was hardly the worst fight we’d ever had, but it was the worst we’d had in a long time, made still worse by occurring during the ‘honeymoon’ we had both wished to perpetrate. Yes, it was tense and volatile, but at least it moved rapidly, through the near-accusations, the retractions, tender reassurances and, inevitably, to sex—the Randall fix-all. Or, rather, the Randalls-mutually-agree-to-pretend-that-it fixes-all. 

Long after Frank was asleep, though, satiated and carefree, I lay awake, privately seething. That he would have the audacity to even suggest such a thing when I’d never so much as kissed another man since I married Frank, let alone— 

Still, something still caught in my mind: ‘If you’d sought some comfort...’ 

It was only a harmless flirtation, I reassured myself, before scoffing, because that made it sound cheap, and wasn’t at all what it had been, in any case! But what had it been? We’d never touched in any way that wasn’t perfectly chaste. He’d never found his way to my bed in the secrecy of lonely nights, as so many others did in camp. I didn’t even know his full name or fully what his face looked like, for Christ’s sake. 

And yet, Danton had been very important to me, for that brief period during our time together: we had been friends. I had sought comfort in his company, many times, and he had given it, with his words and his good drink, his attention and encouragement. Hell, I doubt I would have stayed in France through the end of the war, without his friendship and the gentle support he unendingly gave; without the solace he brought to my lonely, doubting heart in those days. 

I stared at the ceiling, wondering—not for the first time—what ever became of him. There was that terrible fight between the tents, when he’d said those things and I’d stormed off in a rage that became a sobbing breakdown in the privacy of my tent. As much as he hurt me—deeply, viciously, even with so few words—I did regret, later, that I hadn’t sought him again and tried to talk things through. That cold, cruel disdain had seemed so out of character, even at the time. Surely, if I’d gotten in his face, forced him to speak to me with the sort of candor that was integral to our friendship, we might have reached some sort of rapprochement. But I’d only ever seen him again in faint glimpses across camp. After that, he was gone. People said he just up and left, one day, never to be heard from again. 

‘Someone who might be looking for you now. To reconnect.’

Well, and if there WERE someone come looking for me, Frank, I silently spat as I rolled onto my side away from him, he bloody well wouldn’t have been a Scot. 

2 0 2 4   

Passing strange, it was, to arrive back in Inverness this afternoon. Odd on the one hand, of course, to compare it with the Inverness of old; but stranger still to traverse its streets with money in my pocket and proper clothes on my back, my steps certain. You’ll have read by now of my wretched experiences here of seven years ago, not one of which I should ever wish to repeat (though I give you leave to tease and laugh about them for as many years to come, as ye wish).

Suffice it to say, I found myself murmuring a prayer of heartfelt gratitude for being able to stride boldly up to the innkeeper’s desk to give them my custom; for the money to hire a room (and by no means the cheapest in the place); for knowing precisely how to operate the hot water geyser and how I might go about seeing to my supp /

/     Forgive my artless interruption, but I must immediately explain that I had been writing the above while sitting at the desk in my second-floor chamber. Some whimsical soul had thought to situate it at the window, overlooking the square and the fountain beneath. A pretty aspect, to be sure, though the night is foul and thundering, at present, and hardly anything to be seen at all. 

On that point, I couldna have been more wrong, for there ye were, Claire, right before me in the window of the inn across the street, brushing your hair. 

Christ, the joy that coursed through me was so immediate, so complete, I couldna rightly say if I was crying or laughing. It’s likely to have been some of both, but as I say, I wasna paying much heed to anything save you, glowing in the lamplight as ye wrestled and tussled with that brush. How I’ve missed that sight, mo nighean donn: you and your great curly wig, both! I ken well that I laughed, the sound loud and full and bursting, when ye suddenly brandished the brush in a fit of pique when it caught in a tangle. I didna need one bit to peer at the reflection of your lips to ken precisely what it is ye said. Jesus H—RRROOSEVELT Christ! with that pursed, growling R that makes ye sound like a wee, angry bulldog, and at which I can never help but chuckle in delight. I leaned elbows on the desk and sat my face in both hands like a schoolboy, half-covering my mouth as I grinned like one, too; as I watched my sweetheart across the way. 

It shouldna have been altogether a shock, I suppose. I kent you were in town, for I’d come to Inverness to see you, or rather, to see ye safely gone through the stones tomorrow; and yet I canna express what the gift of that unexpected sighting did to fill my heart. It was more than two years since the last time I’d laid eyes on ye, and that memory marred by blood and fear. So, to see ye suddenly there before my eyes, all alight ? I shall cherish that image, always.    

Ye might think it a strange thing to mention, Sassenach (I wonder if I ought to scratch it through, altogether), but to my own shock, I found myself feeling a trifle sad on behalf of Frank Randall, of all people. For, while I hold no great fondness for the man, he is a man, after all, a man who loves you; and how many years has he, too, waited through wartime and separation for a peaceful life with his wife? with the very woman in that window?  Ye chose me, I remind myself, with no little relief and satisfaction: with a free choice between us, I was the one you wanted. Still, I found that I pitied him your loss; that you’d be gone from him forever, first in body and later in your heart, after tonight. 

That is to say, I pitied him right up until the moment I saw the selfsame bastard coming up the street in the storm, at which time all soft, generous consideration was replaced with purest loathing for everything from his hat to his umbrella to the manner of his gait. 

The electricity cut off suddenly enough to be startling, and from the corner of my eye I saw your own light vanish as well. The work of the storm, I should expect. I fumbled for a candle in the desk drawer (when did I become so blind and helpless in the dark, I find myself wondering), and by the time I’d gotten it lit, I could see that you were about the same business, slowly illuminating your room with candle after candle. It was even more breathtaking, to see ye by candlelight again, silk and curl alike sparkling with gold as ye moved about.  

You should know that the moment I saw the door behind ye open, I stood and closed the curtain. The both of ye deserved privacy, this last night. Besides, my jealous imagination would more than manage on its own, I’m afraid, without newsreel footage of the event.

Besides, my brown-haired lass, I shall see ye again on the morrow. 

2 0 2 5   

I have seen ye this day, Sassenach, though not entirely under the circumstances I expected. 

You’d told me, once, that you’d gone to the stones with Frank at sunrise of that morn, and had returned on your own to Craigh na Dun later in the afternoon to gather your wee plants. Hoping to occupy my time until after midday, when I would drive out to the vicinity of the hill to lay in wait, I put on my coat and scarf (your Christmas gift, remember?) and passed the time out on the moors. 

There was naught I cared to hunt, but I hadn’t the mind for it, in any case. I just wandered, unsure if my thoughts would ever settle. There was no task to be done on your behalf, this time, as much as I might prefer otherwise, nothing to be done at all, save wait. I only wanted to see your last moments before ye touched the stones, so I’d ken for certain. Hour after hour, I walked, trying to enjoy the gusting winds and sounds of the animals and trees, but finding little comfort therein. 

Only, just after noon, when I was nearly back to the outskirts of town, I heard the sound of a Car approaching, coming in my direction, and then there ye were, driving fast around the bend in the road. At once, I felt the gripping of horror, for it was so much earlier in the day than I’d anticipated, and I kent I should never be able to get to my own vehicle in enough time to reach the stones before you. 

As I beheld you in all your glory, though, driving that automobile at terrifying speed, and looking absolutely thrilled for it, the fear vanished and peace settled at last. It was alright. That was the way I wished to remember ye these next years in which you’ll be truly gone, mo chridhe; not you vanishing before my eyes, perhaps screaming—as I did— when the stones pull you into their terrible embrace. No, not that: only you, dressed in white, your hair flying free in the wind and your face glowing with inner joy as ye drove off toward our life together. For today, mo chridhe, is the day we met. 

April 16, 1948 

2,557 days

His breath was white against the dark of the wee hours, coming in gasps of exertion as he made his way up the frost-covered faerie hill, heavy-laden in more ways than one. 

He hadn’t often been able to bring himself to write in the diary, since he had left Inverness. It wasn’t that it was a bleak or unhappy time, on the whole. Much like the two years prior, he had both his employment and his personal projects to keep him well-occupied; and even in the quiet moments, there were countless books to read, rides to take, long walks to be had, and prayers to say. 

But as the months wore on, as the days on the calendar began ticking closer and closer to this day, his waking thoughts were plagued by dark thoughts more and more, those that had tormented him so unrelentingly in the earliest days since coming through the stones: that he himself had been sent to a year misaligned with Claire’s own life, and that she might well do the same. In the end, he’d been meant to go to 1941, to be there in that ditch with her and see her rescued. It was a comfort, to be sure, that his steps had been ordained, but that was the very thing: what if she and the bairn were likewise meant, somehow, for some purpose unknown, to be elsewhere? He had given her up with no doubt in his heart that a better life awaited her on the other side of the stones, but who was to say that such a place and time should be—

Let it be with me, Lord, he prayed for the millionth time as he emerged from the wood empty-handed and took up a place of waiting before the terrible stones. That her better life would be now, here, with me. Let it be 1948. 

Dawn broke, in golds and pinks across the horizon. The birds in the nearby wood began their twittering chorus, joyously heralding the start of the new day. Back in 1746, it would be sunrise, as well—the redcoats would be arriving—she would be running up the hill—

Minutes passed. 

And passed. 

An hour. 

Grant her to me again, he begged, his back and his heart aching with the pain of every passing second as he waited, give me once more this rare woman, and I will love her still better than before. I swear it by all that I am. 

Eight o’clock. 

Please.... Please....

Ten o’clock

He was in the grass on his knees in the center of the circle, palms upturned 

Let her place be with me.

Noon

Tell me what I must do to make it so; what I must give in return.

Tell me.

Just tell me and I’ll do it. 

Three o’clock. 

Give me strength, he prayed unendingly as the evil whisperings of doubt crowded around his heart.  Give me the strength to wait beyond the time of hope. Guide my steps to her as you did before. Give me the strength to find her. 

Sunset.

“Lord, that she might be safe,” he wept aloud over shaking hands, despair he hadn’t known since 1746 rending him apart, “wherever she is. Wherever she has gone, she and the—”

A crack like the sting of a whip rent though the world. 

His legs hadn’t even fully straightened before he caught her. 

[iwriteficsnottragediesladies]

Girl can SING (Part 4 of ?)

A/N FULL DISCLOSURE: I am a virgin and a lesbian, so I know literally nothing about sex, especially not one with a penis involved. This is my first attempt at writing smut. BUT, I got a request from an Anon asking for virginity smut, and a request from @rindulacre to continue the story, so I combined them. Again, I have no idea what the fuck I’m talking about, but I hope it lives up to your expectations! Idk if you still want to be tagged, @multifandom-slytherin so I did anyways lol.

Tonight was the night: your first concert as an official member of Panic! at the Disco. It was a medium sized venue and just a casual gig, not on tour.

You’re nervous, but you feel confident. Maybe it’s because you were kind of baptized by fire when Brendon randomly pulled you onstage to sing last time. You feel like having that “first time” experience out of the way takes a load off.

Worst case scenario is you really fuck up a song. Would that be the end of the world? No. Everything was going to be okay. With Brendon by your side, you can conquer anything and performing is no exception.

“Are you nervous?” Brendon asked quietly backstage with a sweet smile.

“Little bit,” You nod honestly.

“I love you so much,” He said.

“I love you too,” You reply with a sweet smile.

The whole show ends up being more than you could ever dreamed it to be. It was so easy to perform with Brendon and the boys. Nothing had ever felt so natural in your life. The excitement from the crowd was contagious. They cheered and held handmade signs, some of them dedicated exclusively to you.

We love you Y/n! Welcome to the sinners Y/n! Beebo and Y/n/n forever!

You were really into it, dancing like crazy, especially during Miss Jackson. You and Brendon totally lose your minds during that song. Sometimes you would go to the edge of the stage and touch some of the audience’s hands and everyone was so excited, just to touch you. It was insane.

Occasionally Brendon would kiss you and the whole venue would just erupt into screams and cheers. Even when he would just walk towards you they would cheer. You pretended to pout when Brendon practically eats Dallon’s face during Sins. Brendon then pointed the mic to the audience like he always does for the rest of that verse and kissed you. Hard. Dear god.

You’re so happy that your first performance was a success and Brendon was so proud of you. When you get home, something comes over you. It’s one of those moods only Brendon could put you in.

You take Brendon by surprise when you knock him onto the bed and kiss him. He scoots up so you can both lay completely. He releases your lips and looks at you, pleasantly surprised.

”Well,” He laughed, “Hello there.”

”Hi,” You respond slyly, raising your eyebrows. You straddle his hips. He smiles at you and you dive back in. Your kisses are sloppy, open mouthed and hungry. Brendon is immediately turned on and breaks the kiss for a moment to rip his shirt off.

An onlooker would probably mistake you for a vampire, the way you are nibbling at his neck.

“Shit, Y/n,” Brendon says lowly as you hit that spot he likes, underneath his jaw. He thinks it’s so fucking hot when you take the lead, pushing aside his dominant personality.

You can feel his erection growing beneath you so you take your top off and release your bra. Brendon can’t keep his hands from grabbing your breasts, running his thumbs over your nipples. You close your eyes and sigh at the sensation.

Brendon releases his hands and begins to tug on your shorts. You lift yourself up so he can slide them down your legs, and you take the liberty of sliding his pants off as well. You press yourself back down on top of him, laying your bare chest against his. You roll your hips harsh and fast and you both moan, the friction between your underwear and his boxers just too good.

You soaked through your panties a long time ago, and now you’re leaving Brendon’s boxers all wet too. You roll your hips again and he can’t help but push back, desperate to prolong the feeling. In his excitement, he rolled you over hastily, your lips still attached in hot, practically pornographic kisses. He slipped his fingers underneath the sides of you panties and stroked your hips bones. He pulled his lips off of yours.

“God, Y/n,” He sighed breathlessly, “You are so fucking hot.”

You have a mischievous glint in your eyes and then buck your hips firmly into his. The fabric was so slick at that point you glide perfectly against his cock, earning exactly the response you wanted

“Fuck,” Brendon strained. Jesus Christ, he was worried he would cum right in his boxers if you kept that behavior up. He gripped your panties and tore them down your legs. He moves further down your body, allowing his hands access to you dripping core. He begins to rub your clit and heat rains down your body.

“F-fuck Brendon,” the words pour from your mouth and you move your hips aimlessly, immersed in the sensation.

Usually this is how things would go: he would finger/lick you till you finished and then you would return the favor, or visa versa. You hadn’t had sex with him yet.

You had told him you weren’t ready yet, and he never even flinched, telling you that he would do as much or as little as you wanted. He’s probably quite experienced, so it’s kind of adorable that he’s willing to put all of that on hold to make you feel comfortable. You’ve done everything in between with each other and it has never been anything but amazing.

What you didn’t tell him was that you had never had sex before--at all. But you undoubtedly knew: you want to lose your virginity to Brendon. Now.

Brendon goes to slip his fingers inside you and your hand flies down to grab his wrist, stopping him. It took all of your willpower.

“Stop,” you say, barely getting the word out. All you want him to do is keep going, but you had bigger plans.

He immediately withdrew his hands and sat up, giving you plenty of space.

“Baby?” He asked quickly, completely mortified, searching your eyes with concern. He wondered, did you not want this? Did he make you do something you didn’t want to do?

You slip your hand under the pillow next to you and pulled out the prop you had planted earlier, knowing you would probably execute your plan tonight. You held it out to him.

A condom.

He raised his eyebrows. This is not what he was expecting. He looked at you like you were crazy or something.

“Are you sure?” He asked you.

“Yes,” you replied, beginning to smile, waving the condom a bit.

“We don’t have to, Y/n,” He started, “You--”

You literally threw the condom at him and cut him off.

“Brendon Urie,” You say darkly, “I swear to god, if you do not fuck me right now...”

“Okay,” He squeaked, rushing to throw off his boxers. You, of all people, have the ability to turn Brendon Urie into a sexual mess. You love it. You giggled a bit at his desperation, looking at him. He looked down and saw the look on your face, and he felt almost a little embarrassed.

“You are evil,” he growled, leaning down to kiss you. He sat back up and opened the condom, rolling it onto himself. He can’t help but shiver a bit at the sensation with you looking at him like that. He positioned himself at you entrance, a bit lost in his enthusiasm. Suddenly he looks up, breaking from his frenzy momentarily.

“Are you sure?” He asks you, one last time, looking down at you with those big puppy eyes.

“Brendon,” You return his eye contact confidently, “I am so. fucking. sure.”

You smile at him with that mischievous look entering you eye, knowing one word would push him over the edge: “Please,” You whisper longingly.

And that’s all he needs. He slides into you, every inch, until his hips are flush against yours. It burns. Some girls can’t really get off without some clit or oral, and you suddenly think maybe you are one of them. You bite the inside of your cheek and press your eyes shut.

“Are you okay?” You hear a concerned voice above you. You don’t open your eyes.

“Yes, yes, please keep going,” you tell him, trying to play it off as pleasure and not pain. He obeys and begins to slide back and push forward again, so slowly. One more of those slow thrusts and you finally feel comfortable.

“Oh god,” Brendon sighs in pleasure, “You are so fucking tight.”

Yeah, cause you’re a fucking virgin and decided not tell him, you idiot.

“Please,” you murmured in exasperation, wanting to feel him move inside you.

He begins thrusting again, a bit faster. Your prayers were answered as the pain turned to hot pleasure. He picked up the pace, gripping onto your hips as he placed his head in the crook of your neck, licking you right where you like it.

“Oh-h,” Your breath hitched and you tangled a hand in his hair, “Brendon, yes,” you encourage him quietly.

With every thrust he goes all in, the base of him hitting your clit in just the right way. You tug on his hair just enough.

“Fuck,” Brendon breathed at the combination of sensations. He pumped a little faster. Heat pooled in the bottom of your stomach.

“Oh sh-shit,” you inhaled sharply, meeting his movements with your own hips, wanting him even deeper inside you. You claw at his back.

“You feel so fucking good,” Brendon growled, “So fucking good on my cock.” Just the dirty talk alone made you want explode.

“Please, god, fuck me,” slipped out of your mouth involuntarily.

“Yeah?” Brendon asked in that filthy tone you loved, “Is that what you want? Tell me what you want.”

He started to slow down, just to tease you. Your hand flew down to grab his hip, urging him to keep moving.

“Fuck me,” you replied loudly, “Fuck me harder.” You didn’t even know this side of yourself existed. Dear god, you are happy you’ve discovered it.

Brendon began to slam into you hard and fast, your skin slapping together with each thrust. You wrap your legs around hips, unable to keep yourself from the sensation. He starts hitting something inside you in just the right way and you can’t help but cry out.

“YES, fuck, right there.”

Brendon’s begins to moan, so turned on by the way you writhe underneath him like that.

“F-fuck,” Brendon stutters.

Your legs tense up around him.

“I’m so close,” you wince, trying to hold it together.

“Then cum for me, baby,” Brendon replied simply through gritted teeth.

And just like that, you unravel. Flashes of heat erupt from deep within your stomach and you lose control of the words coming from your mouth, your speech dissolving into a string of obscenities laced with Brendon’s name.

Brendon cums hard just from the sound of you and the way your pussy tightened around him. He slows down, jamming deep inside you as you uncoordinatedly grind your hips up to his, savoring every moment of your orgasm.

He pulls out and collapses next to you, showering you with kisses and praise. You are a shaky mess, basking in the glow radiating from your core.

Wow, you are most definitely not one of those girl who needs oral/clit to cum. Good to know.

You both catch your breath.

“Goddamn, Y/n” Brendon exclaims. “That was...”

“Amazing,” you sighed, finished for him. You both laughed. It was probably the most cliche thing in the universe.

He looked at you, the laughter in his eyes falling to seriousness.

“It was okay, though?” He asked again, needing feedback on your comfort level and his performance.

“Brendon Urie.” You state. “It was fantastic.”

“I love you, Y/n,” He said honestly.

“I love you too Bren,” you reply with a smile. You both look up at the ceiling, still entangled in Brendon’s arms. You feel a little guilty. “Hey Bren?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being my first.” You said. His head whipped to the side to look at you. You slowly rolled over to look at him. He saw it in your eyes.

“You mean your very first?” He asks in shock.

You nod.

“Oh my god, Y/n!” He exclaimed with a worried look, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?“

“No Bren,” you laugh lightly, “And I’m more than okay.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked sweetly, “I would have been more gentle.”

“What if,” you started slowly, “What if I didn’t want you to be gentle?” You raised an eyebrow and bit your lip.

Brendon’s mouth dropped open.

“Goddamn,” He said kind of impressed. “You are too much,” Brendon glared at you with that low tone taking over his voice again, chuckling.

You kiss the smirk off his face and cuddle up some more in his arms. You relax and smile to yourself.

You lost your virginity. To Brendon fucking Urie. Fuck yeah.

A/N: Thanks for reading, hope it came out okay. Like/reblog if you’re feelin’ it! I do have plans for another chapter that would have, you guessed it, more smut, based on an anon’s separate request. If you have other ideas, please let me know!

[hardblazesong]

Noir Nocturne Part 1 Chapter 9 Hullooooo Rhea B.

Dougal was the first to awaken when the guard returned a few hours later. He felt disorientated but not anxious. It still felt more like a dream than anything else. He was a practical man however and understood this was his new reality. Whatever it took to survive this well, he would do. Perhaps he would get back to Scotland sooner rather than later but it wasn’t uppermost on his mind. Claire was.

He was highly curious about the time and place they found themselves in. How did the people here make do? He decided to put off his questions of the past for another day. She would know what had happened. He wanted her help with the present now though. He’d have to wake her, whether Jamie liked it or no.

He noted when the guard went back up the steps that it was still dark outside but dawning. Time to be about it then. He quietly made his way to her side and shook her shoulder. “Claire, time to wake lass. Will ye help wi the dressing? The Nun didna tell us anything ye ken? She just picked it and handed it over.”

Dougal was not happy to see her cozied up to Jamie’s side. He tried not to think about the fact that he had arranged this marriage or that they seemed to be drawing closer because of it. He knew, now, and probably even then, she was too good for the likes of this boy. She deserved a man such as himself. He would just have to arrange for her to see it as well. He could make himself the more needed man, of that he was sure.

“Dougal for heaven’s sake, it’s just a pair of breeks, a shirt and a jacket, with a belt and a tie. Oh, alright maybe you might need help with the tie and the purpose of the undergarments, but did you have to wake me up for it?” Claire groused as she sat up.

Dougal noted her shift as the blanket fell away and smiled at her as he took in her tousled appearance. “Well now, and how long does it take ye to tame those curls of a morning? I dinna think I e’re noticed just how much hair ye have lass. Tis bonny.”

“Dougal just what in the hell do ye think yer doin man?” Jamie, who had taken his dirk from beneath his head,when he heard the guard come down the stairs, said as he sat up next to Claire. “If my wife is sleeping it’s no yer place to be waking her with compliments.” He frowned, pointing his dirk at Dougal’s face whilst covering Claire up to her nose in blanket with his other hand.

Claire laughed and pushed the dirk back down, along with the cover and stood up slowly. “Dougal head to the sink and wash up with this and then I will see to your attire and everyone else’s” she said, collecting a towel and the soap from the kit bag. “We can’t be walking the streets looking like dirty ragamuffins you fool. Get the worst of the dirt off your face, neck and hands and I’ll be right there.”

He gave her a long look in the lightening room, appreciating her unembarrassed form. “Well, just so then.” He said, turning on his heel and calling to the other men. “Wake up lads, Claire wants us presentable.” He deliberately did not say “Mrs. Fraser”. He wouldn’t give Jamie the satisfaction. Presumptuous pup. Thinking he needed reminding, did he?

He spent a moment flipping the light switch before he got down to the business at hand. Amazing really. He didn’t care about privacy, so he didn’t shut the door behind him. Thinking himself a fine figure of a man who hadn’t lost his own form, he had no issues with letting anyone see what he was about. He took his time cleaning up and then selected the attire she said from his own pile and waited for her.

“You don’t tuck the breeks into your boots. There should be an undershirt there to use before the shirt. These are underwear, called boxers, put them on before the pants. Stop looking at me like that Angus! They are necessary. This is the jacket to match and this tie will do.” Claire said, heading to Murtagh’s pile next and selecting his garments then Angus’s before heading back to Jamie’s. “We will need to get you all shoes as well as haircuts today. Men only wear their boots for working now and hair is kept short. Most men won’t have beards either. We shouldn’t draw too much notice. Let me use the washroom next please, so I can help with the ties after I get dressed. Also, there is food in this pack from the Priest, be sure to eat something before we head out. I don’t know if the guard has a vehicle and we may have another long walk ahead.”

Claire was back to her healer tone Dougal noted. He admired that as well. He would never tell her that though. Wouldn’t want her thinking he liked or wanted a woman telling him what to do. With much harrumphing and grumbling, the men dressed and took their turns after Claire in the washroom. He watched as she had Jamie hold up a blanket so she could dress behind it.

“Jesus Claire! You aren’a wearing that!” he heard Jamie say furiously after a few minutes. The he let out a string of profanity in the Ghalidgh that she couldn’t possibly understand. Curious to see her and what the fuss was about, Dougal made his way back to them. Claire had on what looked to be a belted, flowered shift and she was showing her fine legs! They seemed to shine and her shoes were heeled and red, not the slipper kind he was used to seeing. She was pushing her hair up into a hat that looked to be made of straw and flopped down on one side. It had a large red ribbon behind the brim.

Dougal laughed loudly. “Tis a bit like the shift Murtagh found you in, I like it.” Jamie dropped all pretense at sense after hearing this and shoved him. He shoved him back, twice as hard. “If you do that again, I’ll put you on your arse you idiot.” He said while holding a hand out to Claire.  “Let’s head up and see what this day is bringing…”

He didn’t see the punch coming because he was too focused on her. It took him square in the jaw and swung his head to the far right. He tasted blood and spun back to Jamie, reaching for his throat. He felt Angus and Murtagh rushing in from behind to join what promised to be a fine brawl.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt CHRIST! That will be just about enough of that! You didn’t clean up just to roll around in the dirt. Scotsmen! Hard headed, ridiculous, childlike, overgrown boys!  I am not going to referee while you all beat the snot out of each other. I won’t. I will leave and take the maps and money with me, just watch me.” Claire, clearly losing her own temper, said before she picked up her bag and a smaller leather looking one and crossed to the steps.

“I will give you five minutes to collect your things and come upstairs before I wash my hands of the lot of you and find my own way without you.”

The men all watched as she stomped up the stairs, still muttering under her breath.

“Nah, never happen. I know she wilna leave us. Try not to look so crestfallen Jamie. She’s just talking, like women do, ya ken?” Murtagh said while heading to his items and bundling them all back up.

Angus spit in Jamie’s general direction and winked at Dougal. “You reckon they all dress like that now?”

“I hope so lad, I most assuredly hope so.” Dougal went back to his own items and found the hat. Placing it on his head, he picked up his bundle and followed Claire. He had no doubt she would gladly leave them all behind.

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

Murtagh did not mind the clothes so much but was distinctly unhappy when Claire told them to hide all their weapons. “I willna.”

“You will unless you want to be arrested for menacing. Now come here and let me tie your tie.” She frowned at him and rearranged the collar and tiny buttons at the top of his shirt. “I’ll teach you how to do this yourself later. The guard should be back any moment. Tuck your hair up into your hat. Yes, like that.”

The sun was high enough for them to get a good look at their surroundings while they waited. It wasn’t long though before they saw him coming back to fetch them. Murtagh noticed Jamie rolling his sword into one of the bundles and handed his over, but he put his dirk back behind on his belt, under his jacket. “Just in case eh lad?”

“Right. I moved my dagger to my sock, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her or us.” Jamie said grinning at him.

Murtagh thought he still looked a bit sour, but knew that he would collect himself shortly into his normal demeanor. Jamie could be counted on in any number of ways, but what he admired most about his godson was his ability to hide what was going on in his mind and just get on with it. It took skill, that. It made him proud that he was so competent, so young, a fine braw lad.

“it will be a bit of a squeeze getting you all into the car, but I’ll think we’ll manage it.” The guard said pleasantly. “Mrs. Barnett’s BH is it? Father McDaniel sure knows how to pick ‘em, I’ll give him that.” He shook his head and started up the risers. “Come on, days a wasting and I have to get home to the Mrs. before she sends out a search party.”

Murtagh looked to Claire and raised a brow “Car?” he mouthed.

“I’m Claire Fraser. Thank you so much for helping us out Mr.?” she said while walking just behind the guard. She looked back at the men and placed a finger to her lips while shaking her head no.

“Oh, Tommy Flanigan, at your service, Ma’am. I’d do anything for the Priest, he’s that good a man.” He said as he tipped his hat to her. Murtagh liked that touch. He’d have to remember it.

They reached the top of the bowl and were walking back to the road when Claire said “what a lovely automobile Mr. Flanigan. What model is it?”

“It’s a Ford Model A. I’m right proud of it. You climb in the back with two of the fellas and I’ll make shift to get the other two up front with me. Plenty of room in the well for your bundles.”

Murtagh climbed in beside her while Jamie took the other side. Angus sat next to Tommy with Dougal half sideways trying to figure out how to shut the door again.  He wondered if the others felt as queasy as he did. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer for protection, before studying Claire again to see what her reaction was to this car thing.

She was unfazed, of course. He had to admit to himself a growing attachment to her ever since the wedding. She had seemed strange to him more often than not, but now she seemed solid enough. He had made her Fae Folk in his own mind, or a Gypsy enchantress come to ensorcell them all. He knew she wasn’t, but some of that lingered. Now, Jamie was completely captured by her. With disgust, Murtagh realized the lad’s adoration was bleeding into his own veins. Only time would tell if they were all fools about who and what she was.

He would just have to wait it out. His job, as he saw it, was to protect Jamie. If she were to prove untrue or dangerous to his godson, he would do what needed to be done. There was no grey moral area for him about it. He didn’t think like that.

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

Claire was happy to have the time in the car to collect her thoughts and watch all their reactions as they took in the sights and sounds of this new world. She thought they were doing well, all things considered. They were maintaining their quiet, calm demeanors, even though they must be near to bursting with questions.

“Mr. Flanigan, we aren’t from here, as you have likely surmised. We are newly arrived from Scotland and don’t know much about this town, other than what we have seen in films and newsreels, could you tell us a bit about it as you drive us to the boarding house?” she asked from the back seat, while shifting her backside onto Jamie’s lap. Five minutes into the ride she knew she was going to be squashed half to death. Much more pleasant to feel his arms around her and rest back into his chest.

She had been surprised by her own reaction to seeing him in modern clothing. She would have thought she preferred him in Highlander garb. Not so. His long, lean, but well-muscled, frame was beautifully displayed in the navy-blue suit. It made him look older and somehow even more dangerous. The hat, a black felt fedora, was resting low on his forehead and his stunning blue eyes took on another hue because of it.

It shook her a bit. She had been attracted to him and his boyish charm, long before she married him, but even after she became familiar with the pleasures his nearness and flesh could bring, she had still thought him too young. Too unsettled. Too disposable if she had to be honest with herself. The only thing he seemed to have in common with Frank was an underlying note of well-hidden menace. Now, he did not seem immature, reckless or worth setting aside. How and when had that happened?

Was it possible that she was going to have to forget about Frank? Just let him go entirely? He was here, in this world, albeit younger, but why had she lost her ring in the transition this time? Did it mean she had somehow altered time? If she were to contact him, what could she possibly say? “Oh, sorry darling, been doing a bit of time traveling, you haven’t met me yet, but further down the road we will marry? Then I will leave you mysteriously?” It was ridiculous. Better to make a life here and now surely.

“Well, Hollywood is basically a company town Ma’am, part of greater Los Angeles of course. We have a little bit of everything here and we are proud of it. Just look at these buildings…” Tommy had been talking the whole time she had been thinking about her situation with Jamie and Frank. He was pointing to things outside the window and rambling on. The men seemed fascinated with everything he was saying and they were seeing. Her woolgathering hadn’t made a difference.

“Here we are, Mrs. Bartlett’s, you folks let Father McDaniel know I brought you right to the door mind.” He said as he pulled into the curb moments later, in front of a very large house. Victorian, painted a light blue with green and white trim, three stories tall above ground, with many architectural oddities, including a turret and a porthole window overlooking a small balcony. It looked like something out of a fairy tale, designed by the Brothers Grimm.

Jamie gave Claire a tight squeeze before he let her climb off and out of the car. “That certainly was an interesting ride and sensation Sassenach” he whispered in her ear as he let her go. She saw him give her a small lopsided grin and that slow blink of his that was supposed to mimic a wink before she turned to the driver and held out her hand to shake his. “Thank you ever so much. Do let us know if there is anything we can do for you to repay your kindness.”

“Ah, well, convince Mrs. Bartlett to have me over for supper one of these days. That will do the trick!” He waited as they collected their belongings and made their way up the front steps and across the large wraparound porch. “Be seeing ya!” he shouted and honked the horn twice before taking off in what she assumed was a hurry to get back to the wife.

The door opened almost immediately and a stout short woman, who reminded Claire of Mrs. Fitz oddly enough, came out. She was wearing a garishly flowered cotton house dress covered with a massive apron and curlers in her hair. She also had black socks on rolled down to her what appeared to be house slippers two sizes too big.

“Rhea Bartlett, pleased to meet you all. Follow me, but stomp the dust off your feet first! Just swept the rugs. Father McDaniel said you would be needing three rooms, and luckily, I have them. You two are married yes? Well you’ll have to push two singles together; the double isn’t available.  Two of you men are in the attic room and a single is next to the couple’s room. You’ll be responsible for keeping your own rooms clean and doing your own laundry. I only feed you at suppertime, 5:30 pm and I will not tolerate lateness. Nor will there be any special food orders. You’ll eat what I provide and like it. You may only smoke in the den or outside. I will also not tolerate drunken foolishness or late comings and goings at all hours of the night. You will pay your rent on time, or you will leave, posthaste. The bathroom you will all share is on the third floor as well and don’t be overflowing the tub. If Father McDaniel hadn’t vouched for you, you wouldn’t be here. I rarely take in strangers or actors. Don’t make me regret it.”

“No, Mrs. Bartlett, we wouldn’t think of it, I assure you.” Claire said giving her a most generous smile and nodding her head in agreement. She was having trouble not laughing at that torrent, and felt a bad case of the giggles coming on. Have mercy on us poor strangers in a strange land and Saints preserve us she thought as they arrived at her and Jamie’s room, controlling herself, but only just.

TO BE CONTINUED.