#just as an olive bears forth oil

[glass-expanse]

James 2

My brothers, do not show favoritism as you hold on to the faith in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ. For example, a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and dressed in fine clothes, and a poor man dressed in dirty clothes also comes in. If you look with favor on the man wearing the fine clothes and say, "Sit here in a good place," and yet you say to the poor man, "Stand over there," or, "Sit here on the floor by my footstool," haven't you discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?

Listen, my dear brothers: Didn't God choose the poor in this world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom that He has promised to those who love Him? Yet you dishonored that poor man. Don't the rich oppress you and drag you into courts> Don't they blaspheme the noble name that was pronounced over you at your baptism?

Indeed, if you keep the royal law prescribed in the Scripture, Love your neighbor as yourself, you are doing well. But if you show favoritism, you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors. For whoever keeps the entire law, yet fails in one point, is guilty of breaking it all. For He who said, Do not commit adultery, also said, Do not murder. So if you do not commit adultery, but you do murder, you are a lawbreaker.

Speak and act as those who will be judged by the law of freedom. For judgement is without mercy to the one who hasn't shown mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgement.

What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can his faith save him?

If a brother or sister is without clothes and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, "Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well," but then you don't give them what the body needs, what good is it? In the same way faith, if it doesn't have works, is dead by itself.

But someone will say, "You have faith, and I have works." Show me your faith without works, and I will show you faith from my works. You believe God is one; you do well. The demons also believe-- and they shudder.

Foolish man! Are you willing to learn that faith without works is useless? Wasn't Abraham our father justified by works when he offered Isaac his son on the altar? You see that faith was active together with his works, and by works, faith was perfected. SO the Scripture was fulfilled that says, Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him for righteousness, and he was called God's friend. You see that a man is justified by works and not by faith alone. And in the same way, wasn't Rahab the prostitute also justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out by a different route? For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead.

[mychlapci]

As a harvest festival approaches, the junior advisor finally hatches a plan to overthrow the king, with his next stop conveniently being the head cook. Being a chef for a craggy old king who complains about everything, it doesn't take much to convince him and the kitchen staff to conspire with the rest of the palatial servants to poison the snooty nobles and loyalist courtiers on the day the coup would be sprung. Just to sweeten the deal, the junior advisor gives the head cook a quick prostate massage with rosemary infused olive oil, eliminating the prostate inflammation once and for all, putting him in an extraordinarily good mood.

His last stop is the steward. Expecting a challenge, the small breasted undercover advisor dons his sluttiest leather garments before approaching the small dicked old man in his quarters. But much to his pleasant surprise, the steward is about as power hungry as one can get in that position. Having served the family for generations, he tires of being in a subservient role, and yearns for the throne himself, no longer wanting to spend the rest of his eternal octogenarianism in such a petty rank. One may think that sex with a permanently menstruating vampire would be messy and unpleasant, but considering our junior advisor's proclivities. Well, he's certainly dressed for the part that night.

The path to seducing the flat chested advisor is now open, at last. On the night before the coup was to happen, the junior advisor enters the advisor's chambers, bearing drink and treats. He wines and dines the foreign advisor, charming the somber flat chested man with ease. They fall into bed, eating each other out all night, and cuddled until the toll of the first bell the next day.

At the break of dawn, the junior advisor waits in a carriage, having brought the new advisor up to speed of what was to happen, and waits until the banquet began. Sounds of terror and carnage could be heard from within the castle, carried by the wind down the back exit from the cellars to the stables. Soon, the foreign advisor emerges triumphantly with the dethroned king, bound and led along by the chief knight. They bade farewell to the castle, with the king and in his inflamed prostate in tow (for the labyrinth, of course), and set forth to return to your kingdom at last.

+1 vassal state +1 royal prisoner

Gee I sure hope nothing bad happens to them on their journey back 🎲 https://g.co/kgs/Sh7UssS

wipes a tear from my eye... he really did it, he fucked all of them, servant by servant. what amazing subterfuge, i can't- huh. uh. the twenty sided die rolled a four. is that good.

[hiddentrails7]

The BG3 Pokémon teams, Halsin and Minthara edition! I'm still working on Jaheira and Minsc, since I want to get more info on them outside of BG3 to form their teams. Maybe I'll play BG2 and BG1, we'll see if I can afford to do it. But for now, here's two more teams I thought a lot about. :]

Halsin

(Oh the love I hold for him is,,, a lot. Both romantic and platonic is so sweet)

Ursaluna

“I believe it was Hisui’s swampy terrain that gave Ursaluna its burly physique and newfound capacity to manipulate peat at will.” (Pokémon Legends Arceus)

…big bear… bear father…

Venusaur

“There is a large flower on Venusaur's back. The flower is said to take on vivid colors if it gets plenty of nutrition and sunlight. The flower's aroma soothes the emotions of people.” (Pokémon Omega Ruby & Pokémon Alpha Sapphire)

It's a big flower monster that can help potientally avoid a fight with its rad ass smell. Amazing. Much Halsin.

Arboliva

“This calm Pokémon is very compassionate. It will share its delicious, nutrient-rich oil with weakened Pokémon.” (Pokémon Scarlet)

It's a very sweet Pokémon, and Halsin would absolutely let it give out its oil/olives to the tiefling refugees and random weak Pokémon he finds.

Ampharos

“It gives off so much light that it can be seen even from space. People in the old days used its light to send signals back and forth with others far away.”

Halsin isn't really one for technology and over advanced stuff. So he communicates with Ampharos instead.

(Call Lightning was also reaaalllyyyy useful and I've come to associate it with Halsin)

Kangaskhan

“To protect its young, it will never give up during battle, no matter how badly wounded it is.” (Pokémon SoulSilver)

Okay, so tell me why Halsin WOULDN'T want the protective powerhouse that is Kangaskhan.

Golduck

“GOLDUCK is the fastest swimmer among all POKéMON. It swims effortlessly, even in a rough, stormy sea. It sometimes rescues people from wrecked ships floundering in high seas.” (Pokémon Sapphire)

He likes ducks :],,, and I really think him having a Psyduck at some point would be so funny. Like.

“Kagha shut the fuck up Psyduck is sleeping.”

☆

Minthara

(Ms. Strap-On department herself. I've actually grown to really like her)

Araquanid

“It launches sticky water bubbles. Foes who lose consciousness while trapped inside these bubbles will get torn apart by Araquanid's gnashing jaws.” (Pokémon Violet)

I like to think Araquanid was her first, since she was raised in a household that worshipped the spider god. Fierce, but capable of being sweet. On rare occasions.

Samurott

“One swing of the sword incorporated in its armor can fell an opponent. A simple glare from one of them quiets everybody.” (Pokémon Black)

Samurott is a very paladin Pokémon.

I actually chose Unovan Samurott over Hisuian Samurott because I don't think she really needs the Dark type– they're actually both really stern in their Pokédex entries, and it just… feels better idk.

Grimmsnarl

“With the hair wrapped around its body helping to enhance its muscles, this Pokémon can overwhelm even Machamp.” (Pokémon Shield)

A morally grey-coded Pokémon that is also an absolute unit? Fuck yes. Absolutely Minthara coded.

Drapion

“Possessing a sturdy build, it takes pride in its strength, taking down foes without using toxins.”

Of course, the prideful Poison/Dark bug is going on Minthara’s team. It really works for her, especially if you stick with the Absolute stuff.

Scolipede

“Highly aggressive, it uses the claws near its neck to dig into its opponents and poison them.” (Pokémon White)

The Paladin needs her poisonous steed!! Her very aggressive steed that tolerates her and her alone!!

Banette

“BANETTE generates energy for laying strong curses by sticking pins into its own body. This POKéMON was originally a pitiful plush doll that was thrown away.” (Pokémon Ruby)

She's a Vengence Paladin that put parasites in her brain while under the Absolute for power. She and Banette get each other.

[sheepwithspecs]

30 Day NSFW Challenge: Day 1 + Day 2

|| PLvsAA || Rated M || (1 /29)

Ao3 Link

A NSFW collection based off the 30 Days OTP NSFW Challenge prompt list on Tumblr: all Barnham/Darklaw. Different ratings, universes, etc. but it's all varying levels of NSFW content.

Day 1 + Day 2: Cuddles & Kissing (Naked)

Eve never thought that she would enjoy someone sharing her bed. And there were times where she didn’t like it, and wished that she could sleep alone without hurting her partner’s feelings.

Sometimes it was midsummer, and the breeze was stagnant, and the lake was so thick with mosquitoes that the servants dared not open the windows even an inch. No expense was spared for comfort’s sake, and yet no amount of dehumidifiers or air conditioners or electric fans could stop the nightgown from sticking to every crevice of her body, nor prevent the sweat from dripping into her eyes. On those nights, her poor knight was banished to the outermost edges of the mattress in the hopes that his immense body heat wouldn’t be able to reach her. He took the isolation in stride, but sometimes she wondered if it was even worth the hassle. After all, she could still feel the heat radiating off his body, even with yards upon yards of cooling sheets and ice packs between them.

Sometimes she was collapsing into bed at the end of a stressful day, and even the thought of sheets brushing against her skin was too much to bear. The slightest noise grated on her eardrums as though it were magnified tenfold. Strands of loose hair felt like glass knives against her shoulders, but she did not dare tie it into a bun, knowing it would be somehow worse. No position was comfortable, and—though she would have loved being squeezed into a cube like a bunch of recycled cans—the thought of being held made her skin crawl with disgust. On those days, she could not stand the sound of her own breathing, much less anyone else. She was not sure where he went—to the tavern, perhaps, or the bakery, or even to a spare bedroom—but he knew to leave her alone… at least until she was ready to face the world.

But sometimes it was good, too.

Sometimes she woke up to find herself cradled in strong arms, her spine flush to his chest, solid and warm and comforting. Nimble, calloused fingers kneading her bare flesh beneath the blankets, massaging and prodding, testing her give the way she watched him test raw dough in the bakery. Sometimes, if he knew she was awake, his hand would find its way between her legs, teasing her to full attention. Sometimes her sleep-addled brain would try to make some sort of connection between slick thighs and olive oil and focaccia, but never enough to voice the thought aloud. He’d probably scold her for it, having inherited his boss’s opinions on the gravity of baked goods.

Sometimes, when she was really tired, she would simply lie still and let him play with her, for lack of a better term. He seemed to never tire of running his hands over her ribcage, squeezing her hips, tracing patterns over her skin with his fingertips, weighing her breasts in his palms. Soft lips kissing the crown of her head, her shoulder, the back of her neck, tasting and nibbling until she squirmed. Just roll me over and kiss me properly, she often thought to herself, but he never did. He was content to hold, to touch, gentle caresses just lazy enough that she often drifted back to sleep long before he was finished.  

And sometimes she was awake enough to tease him, to arch her back and grind until he was hard and needy, his breath a low grunt in his throat. Then there was the inevitable conversation that follows, barely audible, the please, now and condom first and I take pills, you know that and ‘tis for the mess that always ends up with him rummaging around in the darkness for the box in the bedside table. Her spine cold, her ears cringing from the crackle of foil, almost too loud after the back and forth of hushed whispers. But the wait is worth it, and the cold makes the warmth even warmer once he’s wrapped himself around her again, his fingers on the rise of her hip, his breath hot against her ear, and then—

Sometimes it’s nice, sharing a bed.

[ao3feed-narlie]

Your Touch Brought Forth an Incandescent Glow

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/FYTmhoS by kingdomfaraway When Charlie leaves Nick Nelson’s house, he smells like a weird mix of olive oil, and like Nick himself, he's somewhere lost in the dream of the last few hours. He’s also pretty sure he’s not going to tell anyone (Mr. Ajayi included) what’s been happening and what happened to him today. He’s aware he’s promised Nick, but just this little bit of giving himself up, of spilling secrets with Nick was more than enough to set his anxiety aflame. No, this is Charlie’s secret to burden, to bear, to covet and hold onto. This thing with Nick was a detour, small and quick and soon enough Nick will be just another face in the darkening crowd of people. But then Nick appears, yells his name, and then, of all things in the known world, kisses Charlie on the cheek. The single press of lips burns hotter than any branding could and leaves behind an invisible mark. He feels the blush run up his cheeks, his breath caught somewhere in his throat. He’s left in a daze, the world around him stops spinning and all that’s left is Nick Nelson, smiling at him. Words: 5525, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of My House of Stone, Your Ivy Grows Fandoms: Heartstopper (TV), Heartstopper (Webcomic) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Tao Xu, Victoria "Tori" Spring Relationships: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Bullying, Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper) Needs a Hug, Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper) has Anxiety, Sad Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Nicholas "Nick" Nelson Needs a Hug, Smitten Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Supportive Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Secrets, Emotional Hurt, Homophobic Language, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/FYTmhoS

[prju77]

I Will Provide! - Your Lion Bites Word For Today!

I am the LORD and I do not change. What I have done in the past I will do today. I am the God of miracles; I am the all-sufficient God, I am El Shaddai.

Let me bear the weight of your provision, for have I not said that I will supply all your needs? Trust me to already know what is required and trust that I can and will provide for you even in the most extreme circumstances. When it looks as if you are at your last and all is lost, I will provide.

Trust me. Regardless of the situation or circumstance, no matter how big, I am Jehovah Jireh and I can and will provide. I can create something from nothing, Am I not the Creator of Heaven and Earth? Believe Me for the bigger, expect Me for the greater.

Increase your faith. I am the faithful God, trust in my faithfulness to provide for you in all situations no matter the need. Do not allow your circumstances to determine your outcome when I am the one who can shift things in an instant. No situation is too big, and no circumstance is too dire for me, for I am God! Know that even in the midst of seasons of drought, I will provide for you with all-sufficiency.

I am the God of multiplication. I am the one who gives seed to the Sower; I am a master at turning seeds into great and mighty things, and I can turn a little into abundance. Bring me your little and watch me multiply it. Come out of the grips of lack which slowly kills the body and depletes the soul and come into the promise of life by trusting Me.

Activation: God will always provide; however, we also have a part to play in partnering with his plans:

SEEK – Seek God first for His plan and His word on the matter. (Matthew 6:33) Ask Him for His instructions which include the steps that you are to take and when to take them.

OBEY – Once you have heard from the Lord and received his instructions, DO as you are instructed to do (Isa. 1:19)

TRUST – Trust in His faithfulness. If God said it, then He will do it (Num. 43:19). God’s word never returns to Him without accomplishing what He sent it to do (Isaiah 55:11). Each word is a seed with an assignment to produce and to bring forth God’s plan.

STAND - Don’t allow circumstances to shift you away from what God said, stand in unwavering faith, and BELIEVE HIM!

1 Kings 17:7-16 (NLT)"But after a while the brook dried up, for there was no rainfall anywhere in the land. Then the Lord said to Elijah, “Go and live in the village of Zarephath, near the city of Sidon. I have instructed a widow there to feed you.” So he went to Zarephath. As he arrived at the gates of the village, he saw a widow gathering sticks, and he asked her, “Would you please bring me a little water in a cup?” As she was going to get it, he called to her, “Bring me a bite of bread, too.” But she said, “I swear by the Lord your God that I don’t have a single piece of bread in the house. And I have only a handful of flour left in the jar and a little cooking oil in the bottom of the jug. I was just gathering a few sticks to cook this last meal, and then my son and I will die.” But Elijah said to her, “Don’t be afraid! Go ahead and do just what you’ve said but make a little bread for me first. Then use what’s left to prepare a meal for yourself and your son. For this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: There will always be flour and olive oil left in your containers until the time when the Lord sends rain and the crops grow again!” So she did as Elijah said, and she and Elijah and her family continued to eat for many days. There was always enough flour and olive oil left in the containers, just as the Lord had promised through Elijah!"

Luke 12:28-31 NLT"And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith? And don’t be concerned about what to eat and what to drink. Don’t worry about such things. These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers all over the world, but your Father already knows your needs. Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and he will give you everything you need!"

[miajolensdevotion]

February 23, 2021

Verse: Leviticus 24 Write/ Copy Gods words :

24 And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, 2 Command the children of Israel, that they bring unto thee pure oil olive beaten for the light, to cause the lamps to burn continually. 3 Without the vail of the testimony, in the tabernacle of the congregation, shall Aaron order it from the evening unto the morning before the Lord continually: it shall be a statute for ever in your generations. 4 He shall order the lamps upon the pure candlestick before the Lord continually. 5 And thou shalt take fine flour, and bake twelve cakes thereof: two tenth deals shall be in one cake. 6 And thou shalt set them in two rows, six on a row, upon the pure table before the Lord. 7 And thou shalt put pure frankincense upon each row, that it may be on the bread for a memorial, even an offering made by fire unto the Lord. 8 Every sabbath he shall set it in order before the Lord continually, being taken from the children of Israel by an everlasting covenant. 9 And it shall be Aaron's and his sons'; and they shall eat it in the holy place: for it is most holy unto him of the offerings of the Lord made by fire by a perpetual statute. 10 And the son of an Israelitish woman, whose father was an Egyptian, went out among the children of Israel: and this son of the Israelitish woman and a man of Israel strove together in the camp; 11 And the Israelitish woman's son blasphemed the name of the Lord, and cursed. And they brought him unto Moses: (and his mother's name was Shelomith, the daughter of Dibri, of the tribe of Dan:) 12 And they put him in ward, that the mind of the Lord might be shewed them. 13 And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, 14 Bring forth him that hath cursed without the camp; and let all that heard him lay their hands upon his head, and let all the congregation stone him. 15 And thou shalt speak unto the children of Israel, saying, Whosoever curseth his God shall bear his sin. 16 And he that blasphemeth the name of the Lord, he shall surely be put to death, and all the congregation shall certainly stone him: as well the stranger, as he that is born in the land, when he blasphemeth the name of the Lord, shall be put to death. 17 And he that killeth any man shall surely be put to death. 18 And he that killeth a beast shall make it good; beast for beast. 19 And if a man cause a blemish in his neighbour; as he hath done, so shall it be done to him; 20 Breach for breach, eye for eye, tooth for tooth: as he hath caused a blemish in a man, so shall it be done to him again. 21 And he that killeth a beast, he shall restore it: and he that killeth a man, he shall be put to death. 22 Ye shall have one manner of law, as well for the stranger, as for one of your own country: for I am the Lord your God. 23 And Moses spake to the children of Israel, that they should bring forth him that had cursed out of the camp, and stone him with stones. And the children of Israel did as the Lord commanded Moses.

What is your Favorite verse(s):

13 And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, 14 Bring forth him that hath cursed without the camp; and let all that heard him lay their hands upon his head, and let all the congregation stone him.

Explain in your own words what you just read.

The lamps in the tabernacle – standing on the solid gold lampstand (Exodus 25:31-40) – were the only source of light for the tabernacle. These lamps had to be constantly cared for, supplied with pure olive oil and their wicks trimmed. This care made the lamps burn continually.

Commitment / what will i do : I will let my light from the oil lamps shined continually

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible by J.R. Miller

The Baptism and Temptation of Jesus (Matthew 3:13 to Matthew 4:11)

The beginning of Christ’s ministry was marked by two important events His baptism and His temptation. These were thirty silent years, without any manifestation of Divine power, except the beautiful, sinless life which Jesus lived. We must think of those years, however, as part of the Incarnation. The Divine character was revealed not only in miracles and heavenly teachings but in sweet, beautiful living.

John said that he was not worthy to unloose the shoes of the Coming One. Now when he recognizes this glorious One waiting before him to be baptized, he shrinks from the performance of the rite. He would have refused. “I have need to be baptized of You, and do You come to me?” But Jesus insisted on receiving baptism from John. “Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.” The words are full of meaning. The event was of great importance in the life of Jesus.

For one thing, it was the identifying of Himself with humanity. He stood for us men and our redemption. He had no sin but His people were sinful and He died for them. It was also the acceptance by Jesus of His Messianic work. The years of preparation were ended, and the time had come for Him to begin His public ministry. The call came, bidding Him turn away from His quiet life and manifest Himself to His people. We can think of Him shutting up the carpenter’s shop and leaving it forever. Then He stood before the Baptist at the Jordan and was baptized. He had a glimpse that hour of all that lay before Him in His Messianic ministry. The shadow of the cross fell upon the green banks and on the flowing water, fell also upon the gentle and lowly soul of Jesus as He stood there. He knew for what He was being baptized the mission of redemption. We do not know to what we are devoting ourselves, what our consecration may mean when we stand up and give ourselves to God. In a certain sense we go forth in the dark. Yet we may trust God with the guidance of our lives and should devote ourselves to the will of God without question or condition.

John obeyed the wish of Jesus and baptized Him. The baptism of Jesus became the occasion of a Divine testimony to His Sonship. Luke tells us that as He was being baptized He prayed, and as He prayed the heavens were opened unto Him. Prayer brought down upon Jesus, the Holy Spirit. This was Heaven’s answer to Christ’s consecration. This was the Divine anointing for His public ministry. Instead of a horn of oil poured upon His head, the mere emblem of grace, He received all the fullness of the Spirit.

The Spirit came in the form of a dove. It is usual to think of the dove as in its nature, in some way a symbol of the character and disposition of the Spirit. Dr. Horton quotes an old commentator: “The dove is a lover of men and bears ills patiently; for, robbed of its young, it endures and lets the robbers approach it just the same; it is the purest of creatures and delights in sweet fragrances.” The first mention of the dove in the Bible is as a messenger of good news, bearing an olive leaf. An old legend relates that when Jesus was dying a dove sat on the cross above His head, and the legend has been interpreted to mean that even after the blood of the Lamb of God was given to redeem the world, it is needful that the Spirit shall come to soften men’s hearts and incline then to yield to God.

There was another manifestation at the baptism first, the open heavens, second, the descending of the Spirit, then a voice. The voice was the testimony of the Father to His Son. “This is My beloved Son, in who I am well pleased.” From Matthew’s account it would seem that the voice spoke to the people, declaring to them that Jesus was the Messiah. From Luke’s Gospel it would appear that the words were spoken to Jesus Himself, assuring Him of His mission and of the Father’s pleasure in Him. This was the real, the inner meaning of the baptism of Jesus. From this time, His consciousness of messianic authority was clear.

After this came the temptation. It was necessary that Christ should be tempted, before He offered Himself as the Redeemer of sinners. The first Adam was tried in Eden and failed. The second Adam must also be put to the test, before he could go forth as Lord of men. Several reasons may be suggested why He must be tempted. One was because He was human and must meet every human experience. His temptations were real He “ suffered being tempted.” Another reason was that until He had met and overcome the tempter, He was not ready to offer Himself to men as a strong and victorious Savior. The Holy Spirit is not the tempter but it is said expressly that Jesus was led by the Spirit, driven, Mark says, to be tempted. He must be tried, tested, proved before He went forth to His messianic work.

We know now that Christ is able to deliver us out of the hands of Satan, and to defend us against his fiercest assaults. But if He had not Himself been put to the test, in all points tempted like as we are yet without sins (Hebrews 4:15), we could not have had this perfect confidence. Another reason why Jesus was tempted, was that He might understand from personal experience, the nature and power of His people’s temptations, and thus be able to sympathize with them in their struggles. In the Epistle to the Hebrews we are told that because of His earthly experience of temptation, He can now in heaven be touched with the feelings of our infirmities .

There are very practical lessons we may learn from this narrative of our Lord’s temptation. One is that Satan times his temptations to our hours of weakness, or our period of special stress. He does not tempt us with something we do not want but with something that appeals to our cravings at the time. Jacob cold not have brought Esau’s birthright for a thousand bowls of pottage, if Esau had not been hungry that day. Satan watches, and when he finds us exhausted and weary he takes advantage of our condition. He comes to the boy when he is lonesome and homesick, tempting him to seek companions that will ruin him.

Jesus was hungry after His long praying and fasting and Satan tempted Him to use His Divine power to turn stones into bread. Many temptations come to people who are hungry. They are tempted to be dishonest, to take employment that is sinful, or in some other way to sell themselves to get bread. We need to be watchful against the tempter always but especially in the times of our weakness and craving.

Why would it have been wrong for Jesus to exert His Divine power to provide bread for His hunger? Is it wrong to feed one’s hunger? Jesus afterwards made bread by miracle, to feed the hunger of thousands. Why would it have been a sin for Him, to supply bread in this supernatural way for Himself when He was hungry? For one thing, it would have been receiving direction from the Evil One, instead of from His Father. Another reason was that He was in this world to live as men live. If He had used His Divine power to help Himself over the hard points of human experience, He would not have understood our life, for we cannot do this. Therefore, He never wrought a miracle for Himself. He met life just as we must meet it, enduring hunger, thirst, weariness, pain, wrong, without having recourse to supernatural power. Still further, it would have been distrusting His Father, for Him to make bread of the stones. He was under the Divine Care, and God had given Him no command to turn stones into bread. He must wait until His Father provided for His hunger.

The answer of Christ to Satan’s temptation, is very suggestive. He said that man shall not live by bread alone but by every Word of God. Our physical needs are not our only needs. Sometimes men excuse their sin by saying, “Well, I must live,” as if hunger excused theft or fraud. But it is not true that we must continue to live, or that living is in itself the best thing for us. It is true, however, that we must obey God’s commandments and do His Will. We would better any day starve than commit even the smallest sin to get food. Getting bread should not be our first object in living indeed, it is not our business at all. Life’s first duty is to obey every Word of God, and then God will provide for our needs.

The second temptation was to presumption. The tempter asked Christ to throw Himself down from the pinnacle of the temple, quoting words from an old Psalm (Psalms 91) to prove that he would not be hurt but that God would take care of Him. Thus, the tempter whispered, He would prove to the people that He was their Messiah. What would have been wrong in this? Jesus said it would have been tempting God. If the Father for any reason had commanded Him to leap from the pinnacle into the street, then He could have claimed the promise of protection. But if He had thus accepted the suggestion of the tempter, the promise would have been void. We cannot claim protection in danger which we enter without the Divine bidding. Only when God sends us and guides us do we have the Divine shelter about us.

The third temptation was the boldest of all. Christ had just entered upon His public ministry, and at the end of it He saw the cross. Satan suggested to Him the worldly way of honor and power instead of the lowly way of suffering, sacrifice and shameful death. This temptation Satan uses continually with men. He shows them visions of wealth, of worldly success, and says: “Now all this may be yours I will give it all to you. True, you must give up some of your old notions. You must get over some of you scruples. But throw these away and this door is open to you, and see where the path leads to all splendor and brilliance. You will be a millionaire. You will be highly esteemed. You will have all the pleasure you want.”

Too many people yield to this temptation. The old ways of prayer, obedience, simple honesty and faithfulness, seem dull in contrast with the flowery paths which the vision shows. Yes but we must look on to the end, beyond the glamour of the tempter’s vision before we can conclude that what Satan promises will be a good thing for us.

[skrltwtch]

Silverware

Prompt: on a first date and A is a werewolf and doesn’t know the cutlery is silver (Source in master list)

Word count: 4,897 words

Genre: Fluff, romance, supernatural

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I buried my nose in the bouquet of lilies and roses Jake had bought for me. It was the perfect emblem of summer with its warm, sunny hues and fresh, tangy scent — and the perfect segue to the next part of our date. The first part was a visit to the local farmers market, out of which we were now walking. Coming here had been his suggestion. It was something different from the usual first date stuff like coffee or a movie, and I liked it a lot, notwithstanding my initial reservations. I liked him a lot after what I’d seen of him at the market. I felt like the place helped bring out a certain spark between us. For one, there was constant talk about planning for date number two using what we’d seen and bought. If that wasn’t promising, I didn’t know what was!

‘Thank you, Jake. I love it,’ I said about the bouquet.

‘You’re most welcome,’ he said, a broad grin brightening up his face. ‘And thank you for the flavoured olive oil. Makes me kind of wish we didn’t have this dinner reservation …’ His grin turned sheepish in nature. ‘But that’s what’s making me look forward to our next date.’

See?

‘Do you want to call for a taxi or walk?’ he said.

‘What time’s our reservation?’

‘6:00 p.m. on the dot.’

My watch came alive with a flick of my wrist. ‘Let’s walk, then. I want to walk off all the cheese I sampled.’ I’d sampled a lot. In my defence, it was almost that time of the month — and that other time of the month. ‘Do you know the way?’

‘Google Maps can teach me.’

The route Google Maps recommended was scenic. London Bridge looked lovely at this time of day. Its appeal was heightened tenfold with Jake by my side. Could you believe we met on Tinder? It still felt unreal to me. Getting this match used up all my good luck for the year, and we were only at the halfway point. Well, if it meant burning the roof of my mouth most of the time I ate to be able to quit the dating scene for a reasonable amount of time (“once and for all” seemed a little ambitious, though that would be nice), who was I to whinge about the hand fate had dealt me?

The restaurant was located within the Four Seasons. We had been overdressed for the market. Now we were … dressed. I was flattered as fuck that he picked such a lavish place for dinner for a first date. I hadn’t the faintest clue what it was about my profile and our conversations that made him think of a high-end French restaurant helmed by a Michelin-starred chef in a five-star hotel. I did try to talk him out of it (gently). It wasn’t about the cost. Food was one of the things I was more than happy to splurge on. It was just … I never had anyone think this highly of me before, and I wondered if that’d change if … and when … he knew the truth about me.

The host led us into the main dining room and to our table. An amuse-bouche and warm bread came together with the menus. The prices were as expected of the type of establishment this was. Everything sounded good, though this was my first time coming across some of these words. Looking up what each one meant would add to the time something would take to reach our table, and my stomach would sooner eat itself out of desperation.

‘Please don’t hold back,’ said Jake, sensing my indecision. ‘The price is not an issue.’

I did have to hold back. The coincidental timing of this month’s full moon and crimson tide amplified every-fucking-thing I could possibly feel to a divinely hellish degree in the days leading up to them. As it was, I could easily polish off a five-course meal by myself. If Jake wanted this date to go in a less chaste direction after dinner, hell would freeze over before I’d even dream of talking him out of it, first date etiquette be damned. Was the fact that he was such a goddamn catch helping anything? Absolutely fucking not.

‘No, it’s not that. I can’t — I can’t decide what I want,’ I said. It was technically true. I was torn between the beef (never mind that it was £98) and veal … and both of them at once. ‘What are you having? Maybe I can get some inspiration from you.’

‘I was thinking the turbot … or the pigeon. Yeah, I can’t make up my mind either. I’m leaning toward the pigeon …? No, the turbot. Or the scallops …? Fuck. I need an adult.’

‘Let’s choose for each other.’

‘Promise not to hate each other’s choices — or each other?’

‘Pinky promise.’

We locked our pinkies together. I hoped touching him would never grow old.

Once our promise had been sanctified and we separated from each other, Jake signalled for the nearest available waitstaff. One came over almost instantly. The restaurant was bustling with activity, a far cry from however long it had been since we arrived. She took our order in a cordial fashion, not making a bigger deal of how we were ordering for each other than it should be. I chose the scallops for him; he chose the veal for me. I convinced him to start our evening with the langoustine; he sweet-talked me into ending it with the rhubarb. The waitstaff validated all our choices with a knowing smile.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask — and I hope I’m not stepping on your toes here,’ Jake started when our table was just the two of us again. ‘How did you get that scar on your arm?’

It was a matter of time. And bless him. I would never be offended by being asked about the memento of what’d changed my life forever. I would be offended by an adverse reaction to how exactly my life had been changed forever. I raised my arm, giving the scar in question its time in the limelight: brownish-pink, leathery circles arranged in the shape of a crescent, the ones at both ends abnormally large and ragged-looking.

‘My ex-boyfriend’s dog bit me,’ I said. More like my ex-boyfriend was the offending canine. ‘That’s not why he’s an ex, in case you were wondering.’ I’d wanted to be turned. He’d been more than happy to lend a helping set of fangs. Sadly, the idea of us being cute werewolves together was yet another one of those things that simply sounded nicer on paper. It wasn’t all sour between us. We’d sometimes meet for romps. It got lonely sometimes, and it wasn’t like there was an online forum for werewolves to socialise or whatever. I doubted he’d have known of one anyway: he was literally an American werewolf in London.

‘Did it hurt? It’s such a huge scar. Did anything happen to the dog afterward?’ He held up his hands. ‘Am I being nosy? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.’

I smiled in the hope that it’d soothe his worries. ‘You’re not being nosy. It was … okay for what it was.’ Euphoric. ‘The dog’s fine. It wouldn’t be fair to punish it for an instinct thing.’ Yup.

‘That’s good to hear. I think it’s a bad-ass scar. And I didn’t think it’s why he’s an ex.’

‘Thank you. Most people did. Yeesh. Give me some credit.’

‘I’m not most people … I hope.’ He smirked. The apples of his cheeks turned pink.

He really wasn’t. And I wanted so badly to tell him the truth there and then to see if that’d still hold true in the face of a bombshell like that. I had yet to tell anyone about my lycanthropy: if movies, television shows, books, etc., were anything to go by, I’d assume most people would react with fear or disgust, or both. Chris had been thoroughly flabbergasted when I reacted the way I did to learning why he always turned down my suggestions to go stargazing on nights with full moons. I got what I wanted … eventually.

Maybe I should tell Jake sooner than later. Separate the wheat from the chaff. Then I wouldn’t have wasted my time having pined for someone who thought I was some kind of freak of nature.

That conversation — or rather, thinking about that conversation would have to wait, as our starter, bearing a strong resemblance to a flower arrangement with colours befitting the season, had arrived. Food was always the perfect diversion. So would the inevitable back-and-forth about who could have the third and last langoustine. Splitting it was not an option, for one piece was as big as my thumb. I loved the portion sizes of frou-frou fancy food. So much bang for one’s buck.

‘Bon appétit,’ said Jake. ‘That’s one of … four French phrases I know. The other three are “bonjour”, “omelette du fromage”, and — I can’t say the last one in a public place.’

‘Is it by any chance … “voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir”?’ I made no effort whatsoever to lower my volume — or maintain a straight face. Brazenness blazed through my cheeks.

He put a hand on his chest, feigning surprise. ‘Well!’ He tittered. ‘Since you asked ever so nicely, and in French … This is why your choices tonight have been shellfish, isn’t it?’

‘You got me.’

‘Looking at their portion sizes, I don’t think your plan’s going to work very well. Not that I’d need the help of — shut up, Jake.’

‘Keep going, Jake’ was what I’d have said and wanted if my stomach hadn’t started getting on my case for letting good food get cold. (‘Rubbery lobster? Gross!’) There was something hot about someone like Jake — a posh, proper Englishman, the polar opposite of Chris … okay, no, stop bringing him up, stop thinking about him, goddammit — talking openly, confidently, about his prowess. Such words … coming out of his mouth … in that accent … I quickly pressed my legs together to quell any desires. Which hunger of mine was responsible for this?

Wanting to satiate the one appetite I could at this very moment without earning myself prison time for my troubles, I said, ‘Bon appétit, Jake’, and picked up my fork … which promptly fell onto my plate with the fucking loudest clang. The smell of burning flesh tickled my nostrils — my burning flesh. My fingers were sizzling where the fork touched them. Sizzling! I prayed it was only my nose that could pick up this delectable aroma.

I stared at the cutlery. Trust a high-end French restaurant helmed by a Michelin-starred chef in a five-star hotel to use real silverware, not that cheap silver-plated shit. I prodded the fork handle — and withdrew my finger immediately. Not one of my finer moments. Please don’t tell me Jake saw it.

‘Is everything okay?’ said Jake.

Ah, fuck.

‘Yeah,’ I said, examining my palm. Good news: the burn hadn’t healed and wasn’t healing as quickly as my wounds and injuries (not that I had many of them) did after I was turned, so that was one less question to dodge. I didn’t want to keep lying to Jake. I didn’t like that I had been. How would I explain the absence of a second-degree burn that existed mere seconds ago anyway? Bad news: was this never going to heal because of what caused it? I had been so careful with silver since I was turned. How would I explain a perpetual second-degree burn? Would it out me as a werewolf to people who knew what to look for? Was now really the time for Twenty Questions?

Noticing Jake had been waiting on me to provide some kind of elucidation on my well-being, I said, ‘I guess I have a silver allergy. Can you believe it? Who’s allergic to silver?’

He didn’t need to say, ‘What kind of allergy burns someone?’ for me to hear it in my head.

‘Can you eat, then?’ he said.

I shook my head. As far as I was concerned, silver was lethal. No ifs, no buts, no maybes. If a perpetual second-degree burn was the worst thing to come out of fleeting contact with the metal, so be it. I’d consider myself a lucky lycan indeed.

‘Pardon me,’ Jake said to the waitstaff who’d come with our entrées, ‘would you have any disposable cutlery perhaps? My lady’ — he did not — ‘is allergic to the silverware.’

The waitstaff did an excellent job of not acting like this very dashing gentleman had just dropped the barmiest string of words on her during her entire employment in this line of work. Even I didn’t quite believe it myself. ‘I’ll see what we have, sir, ma’am,’ she said, cool as a cucumber. After she finished setting down our food, she collected all the silverware on my side of the table and left.

‘I don’t think whatever she comes back with would help with your veal. I could cut it up for you?’ said Jake.

Oh, my God. Getting burnt by silver must be the universe’s way of course-correcting the unusual jackpot I’d hit with him. Good Tinder matches were a myth!

‘No, it’s fine. Thank you. I’ll manage … somehow,’ I said. The wooden cutlery the waitstaff had returned with didn’t inspire confidence in me to not fling a piece of meat or a utensil at someone while cutting into my food.

‘We could swap dishes. I’d be fine with the veal. It was in my top five earlier.’

I suffocated a sigh. His scallops looked more like an appetiser than a main. But what choice did I have? I could either eat the veal like the animal that put me in this position or go through the restaurant’s entire supply of wooden cutlery with nothing to show for the effort in my belly and possibly injure someone in the process. Neither option would do any favours for my image in the eyes of the guy I liked and whose bones I’d like to jump at some point, enhanced animal lust or not.

So, I agreed. I tried to draw out the meal for as long as I could. Between the teeny serving and the unwieldiness of the wooden cutlery, I was having a miserable time. Dinner had become a silent affair, a far cry from everything prior to this point. Contrary to the vibe I was putting out, the food had nothing to do with my dour mood. For the first time since I was turned, I wasn’t happy about what I was. Could I never truly lead a normal life? Did I have to lie to every potential suitor and fret about whether they’d accept that other side of me on top of all the intricacies of dating?

There ought to be a dating app for verified supernatural creatures.

‘How’s the veal?’ I said. I had to speak up: I wasn’t being fair to Jake by acting like a sullen teenager over something he had zero control over, and the silence was deafening.

‘It’s — I might’ve done you a favour. How about my — your scallops?’

‘As good as three bites can get. I can’t tell if it tastes funny because of the wooden fork.’

‘This has been a disaster, hasn’t it?’ He flashed a wry smile. ‘Can I be honest? I have no idea what possessed me to pick a place like this for a first date.’

‘It’s a nice place. And it hasn’t been a disaster.’ If anything, I was the disaster. As always.

‘How was the market?’

‘The market was great. I had an amazing time.’

‘Thank God. I’ll take one out of two.’

I reached across the table and placed my hand on top of his. He made things extra saucy by interlocking his fingers with mine. ‘Jake, it’s fine. Today has been wonderful. I should be sorry for making things awkward with my … allergy.’ Nope, that still sounded silly.

‘What? No, don’t be. It’s not your fault.’

It … kind of was.

‘How about ice cream after this? My treat. I’m certain the rhubarb will be so very pretty and so very … nothing.’

He hit the nail on the head. The food we had would do wonders for my Instagram feed while having done nothing for my diet. I appreciated his offer, though I was afraid it would take more than ice cream to fill me up properly … Then again, that was a problem that rested solely in my dominion, not his, and it was one I intended to solve by trawling the likes of Deliveroo and Uber Eats in the comfort of my underthings at home — the one true way to enjoy food.

I asked for the bill the second dessert arrived. I wanted to leave here as soon as possible. I had quite enough of the wooden cutlery. I felt like a child using them. And like I told Jake earlier, I was on the fence about whether to attribute the food’s slightly off taste to them or my unrefined taste buds. Even the rhubarb wasn’t spared. Dessert was supposed to be my safe space, dammit!

I footed the bill in its entirety despite his objections. It helped that the waitstaff presented it to me because I’d been the one who asked, and that I was quick with my card. Sisters watching out for each other, everyone. The plan was then to go about the rest of the evening as if it had slipped my mind to ask him for his half or even bring it up in the first place. It was the least I could do for putting a wee damper on dinner with my … me-ness. He was going to treat me to ice cream anyway. There. We were even now.

The best-laid plans of mice and men often went awry: Jake snatched the bill folder and, taking out his phone, said, ‘Do you have Paym, Pingit, or PayPal? Why am I only noticing now that they all start with P?’

I admitted defeat: ‘Paym.’ It might be harder for him — or anyone — to believe I had none of those apps than that I was a werewolf. Did I want to put that to the test? No.

My phone buzzed with the confirmation that my plan had been a dud. ‘Thank you. Now let’s blow this popsicle stand and head to a real one.’

We left and worked on our next destination outside the restaurant. The staff had to want us out of there as much as we wanted ourselves out of there. The time of day meant we had limited options: ice cream parlours in London seemed to think people would lose the mood for sweet treats the moment the sky turned dark and the air cooled. Inanity. We had to return to where our date started for the one place that was open at this hour. It was just as well: I needed the walk this time to clear my head after what happened at dinner. It hadn’t seemed to dull the shine of his opinion of me, at least. He was as chipper as ever. Unless he was a good actor and paid up as soon as he did so he could ghost me after this and find himself a date that didn’t have some bogus allergy to silver …

Me? Over-thinking things? Never.

‘Do you want to do takeout or eat in?’ I said when we found ourselves less than fifty metres away from the parlour tasked with plying us with ice cream for tonight without a say in the matter.

‘Let’s do takeout and walk back to Borough Station. Full circle.’

The place was crowded: the most logical outcome for the only ice cream parlour open at this time near a tourist hotspot in the middle of summer. Customer turnover was quick, however, and we left with our orders within fifteen minutes. As tempting as their sundaes and waffles — towering, decadent creations of sugary indulgence — looked, we went back to the basics after our overly sophisticated dinner. Unlike before, what we wanted came to us in a snap: for myself, a speculoos gelato; for Jake, a gelato, too, but make it salted caramel.

And this time, we could help ourselves to each other’s food. With permission, of course.

‘A fraction of the price, but infinitely better,’ I said.

‘I hope the same can be said of our second date.’

‘And what would that be?’

‘Dinner at Chez Walker. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?’

‘I do think so.’

‘It would have to be the weekend after next, though.’

‘Why? Got another date next Saturday?’ I had a firm enough grip on reality to recognise and accept that a guy like him had to be neck deep in matches.

‘No … next weekend’s the full moon. I thought you’d know.’

I stopped dead in my tracks. ‘Why would I?’ I buried my stammer under a bemused scoff. Like, why would anyone — any not-werewolf, which, as far as Jake was concerned, was what I was — care to know when the full moon was?

He, too, stopped walking and looked me dead in the eye. ‘Imogen, I know what you are.’

I wiped my palms on the front of my dress. They were suddenly so sweaty. So sweaty. Why were they so sweaty? Could he see that they were so sweaty? I tried to defuse the situation the best — and maybe only — way I knew how: ‘Are we quoting Twilight? I’ll have you know that I liked the book when I first read it in 2007. And I thought the movie wasn’t too bad either.’ This was true, and I wasn’t ashamed of it. Any female millennial who said they had felt nothing for Edward Cullen was a filthy liar.

‘I’m not ashamed either to say I read the book and watched the movie. But I’m serious.’

‘Okay … say it, then. Go on.’ Was that how the line went? I wasn’t going to look it up now. On a list of things that mattered in this moment, accurate movie quotes was nowhere near the top twenty.

‘You’re a werewolf. And I know how this sounds, so don’t humour me or —’ His tone had taken on a jittery lilt, uncharacteristic of someone who ought to be humoured, ridiculed (what his next word had to be), or — my worst-case scenario — feared.

‘How did you know?’

His mien changed in a manner that suggested that wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. Fuck it. Chris had trusted me enough to tell me the truth after a handful of dates, and he did it because he liked me a lot and he wanted to get it out of the way as soon as possible so that we could move on in some way. (Me asking him to turn me was the real curveball of that conversation.) The least I could do, really, was to extend that same courtesy to Jake. I liked him. I liked him a lot. If he had a problem with what I was, it was better that I found out now that he did than many months down the road. There was no element of compromise to my … condition.

‘You mean I’m —?’

‘Right? Not crazy?’ I showed him my palm. The burn had taken about an hour to reach the healing stage normal people would reach in a week or so. ‘Yeah.’

‘Damn …’ He cleared his throat. ‘How did I know? I was brought up on a steady diet of horror movies and read way too many young adult supernatural books in the day, more than I’d care to admit. That, and my ex-girlfriend’s second uncle was killed by a werewolf.’

‘Shit.’

‘I’m kidding — about the last part. The first two are true. My ex-girlfriend was a vampire, and one of her uncles — I can’t remember which one; it could’ve really been her second — was with a werewolf when we were together. Vampires and werewolves get along quite well, actually.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

‘How the tables have turned … I’m not.’ He went through his phone with his free hand and, upon finding what he’d been looking for, passed it to me. ‘Look.’

On the screen was a photo of him with his arm around a hazy figure in clothes that were otherwise in focus.

‘Drove me quite mad at first, thinking something was wrong with my phone. Then she went a little … overboard once, and the rest was history. She shared everything about her world — your world — with me. And I’m also in several online paranormal communities, so there’s that. It’s not all as hush-hush as one might think. It just takes an open mind.’

I returned his phone to him. ‘How did you figure me out?’

‘Your “allergy”. I had my suspicions about your scar. Your reaction to the silverware confirmed them. Allergies … don’t do this.’ He took my hand and stroked my palm. The sensation of his fingers on the raw skin was … electric. ‘I’m sorry I put you in an awkward position and you weren’t ready to tell me. What I said … just slipped out. I understand. It has to be fucking terrifying. It’s okay if you don’t want to see me again after this. But I want you to know that what you are doesn’t change a thing about how I feel about you. How you were turned is none of my business. The whole thing is, really. I did an arse thing. I’m an arse. First with the goddamn restaurant, now this. Way to fucking go, Walker,’ he said to himself quietly.

I flung my empty gelato container into the nearest bin, and then my arms around him. I helped throw away his for him, too. ‘You’re not an arse, Jake. This doesn’t change anything about how I feel about you, too. I like you a lot.’ His cheeks flushed deeply under the moonlight. ‘I was freaking out about this whole thing during dinner because I like you a lot. I am so relieved that we’ve gotten to lay our cards on the table.’ I fanned myself with my hand. Don’t cry, Imogen! ‘And because I don’t want there to be any more lies between us, it was my ex-boyfriend who turned me, and he did it because I wanted it.’

‘Oh. Yeah, it still doesn’t change a thing.’ His lips landed on my forehead in a peck. ‘Okay, I never imagined the topic of our exes would come up so often during our first date. Oh, well. Guess they had more of an impact on us than we’d like to think.’

‘Yeah’ — I chuckled, ‘let’s keep walking.’

I peeled myself off him. Our hands remained intertwined. Like dinner, the remaining walk — as short as it was — to the station was a quiet one. Unlike dinner, it was more so that we were simply basking, revelling, in the afterglow of our attraction to each other and each other’s presence. The world felt right again, just as it did at the farmers market.

The next time we spoke was on the train platform. ‘Thank you for the lovely time,’ I said, ‘and for being such a sweetheart.’ I waved my bouquet at him. It still looked pristine despite all the walking we did. ‘For everything.’

‘Thank you, too. I had an amazing time with you today. I can assure you that Chez Walker will serve larger portions than what we had earlier.’

‘I’m looking forward to it.’

‘The weekend after next, then?’

‘Yes,’ I said, grinning. ‘I’d be down for any time before the weekend, too, if Chez Walker is open then.’

‘I’ll speak with the chef.’

He moved in for a goodbye kiss, which I seized wholeheartedly. His smell and the sound of his heartbeat flooded my senses. I could feel his heart beating against his chest under my touch, thumping, thumping away for every second our lips lingered on each other’s. I had to contain myself and keep things G-rated and light, as such kisses were wont to be, though my instincts were screaming, baying, at me to get to satisfying at least one craving tonight. I was the one to break off the kiss for fear of going too far.

‘Just in time,’ said Jake, his eyes doing that thing they did whenever he smiled. ‘My train’s here. I’ll see you next week?’

‘I thought you said you’ll speak with the chef about next week.’

‘I realised I don’t care what the chef thinks. He’ll be fine with it anyhow: he doesn’t have to bust out the good silverware.’

‘Goodbye, Jake.’

‘See you, Imogen. Message me when you get home?’

‘I will.’

We waved at each other, right before the train doors swallowed him up. My train came soon after, too. I spent the entire ride home wondering not what to fill the void that was my stomach with, but what fresh hell the universe had in store for me in return for scoring me a guy like Jake.

[livvibee]

Let it Simmer

Pairing: Starker

Rating: Explicit (E)

Notes: This fic fulfills my “edging” square for @starkercestevent​ 2020  bingo.

Length: 5.5k~

Warnings: underage, Uncle/Nephew incest, oral sex, edging

Read here or on AO3.

Peter was brimming with excitement as he packed his overnight bag. He’d gotten his birthday wish, a weekend visiting his Uncle Tony. “Just us guys,” Peter thought to himself happily. Even though they lived in the same city, his uncle was so busy running Stark Industries that visits were few and far between. Peter missed the one-on-one time with the only male role model in his life. 

“Peter! Tony’s here! It’s time to go!” His Aunt May’s voice carried up the stairs to his room. Peter hustled to grab everything he needed and hurriedly zipped the bag after shoving in his clothes. He took the stairs down two a time in his eagerness. 

“Uncle Tony!” Peter cried out as he barreled into his uncle’s arms. 

“There’s my favorite nephew!” Tony said, wrapping his arms around Peter. “You ready to go kiddo, got everything you need?”

“Yup! I’m ready!” Peter chirped, looking up at Tony, searching his familiar face for warmth and comfort.

Peter reluctantly peeled himself out of Tony’s grip to say goodbye to his aunt. After a thoroughly embarrassing session of hair smoothing and cheek kissing he was released to slide into the passenger seat of his uncle’s Audi.  

“So, what are we getting into this weekend?” Peter looked across at his uncle’s defined jawline as he spoke. 

“Well, I thought I’d teach you your grandma’s pasta sauce recipe. She taught me for the first time when I was about your age. I know Mom would have loved the chance to pass it down to you herself.” 

When they got back to Tony’s penthouse at the top of Stark Tower, they ordered a pizza for dinner and settled into the couch. Peter naturally gravitated into Tony’s side, cuddling up with a full belly with a thick blanket draped over them. As the movie played on Peter relaxed, breathing in the scent of his uncle’s cologne and drifting off to sleep. 

Peter was torn from his dreams of confident hands and kind brown eyes on Saturday morning by a gentle rapping at the door. 

“Petey? You up, hun? It’s almost ten already.” Tony’s voice called from the hallway. 

He blinked up in confusion, realizing he was in his usual guest room in Tony’s penthouse, and not still on the couch. He peeked under the blankets only to find himself in his underwear and shirt from the day before, with a problem. A hard, sticky, pushing-against-his-briefs type of problem. 

“Oh, no,” Peter said with dismay, before calling out, “Just a minute, Uncle Tony!”

He’d only been waking up with a boner in the morning for a few months, and it had to happen here and now of all places?

Peter screwed his eyes shut and tried to think of the least sexy things he could. Old Mr. Jenkins down the hall in his 70s workout shorts, stoichiometry, Mrs. Whitehead’s too thin dresses in the front of the classroom, showing the line of her granny panties every time she faced the board… Ugh nothing was working! Another tap on the door spurred Peter into action. He rolled out of the bed and grabbed for the thick, plush robe that lived on the back of the guest room door, wrapping and tying it securely around his slim frame. 

“Coming!” He called out, before he opened the door and drank in the sight of his uncle, still pajama clad this late in the morning, soft plaid pants wrapped tight around the thickness of his thighs, henley shirt rucked up where Tony scratched idly at his abs with one hand. “H- hi!” Peter squeaked out, suddenly feeling shy. 

Tony thankfully ignored his flaming face. “Good morning, kiddo! You should get ready, I’m going to get breakfast started. How do pancakes sound to you?”

“That sounds great!” Peter enthused. “Let me just change and I’ll be right out.”

“Okay Pete, but don’t take too long.” Tony directed fondly, before turning and walking down the hallway toward the kitchen. 

Peter practically slammed the door and ran into the ensuite bathroom, eager to rid himself of his little problem. As it turned out, it really didn’t take him long at all. 

Later that day, Tony declared it was time to teach Peter the secret family recipe.  Peter watched with wide eyes as Tony’s calloused hands gracefully minced the onion and garlic. Why was he suddenly blushing? Were those butterflies flying around in his stomach?

“W- Wow, Uncle Tony,” Peter stammered, “you’re so good at chopping!” 

“Thanks, Kiddo,” Tony said slowly, searching Peter’s reddened face as he spoke, “it comes from practice. You’ll be able to do this one day. Here, come over and let me show you.”

Tony pulled Peter over to stand in front of him at the counter and bracketed the boy in with his arms, leaning over him to show him the best way to handle a knife. Peter felt like he was melting, feeling his uncle’s beard brushing on the side of his cheek. 

 “You’re gonna hold the knife like this, and make sure to tuck your fingers under where you’re holding the onion. Now we’re just rocking the knife back and forth. Good boy, that’s exactly right.” Tony’s voice was low and intimate as he gently guided Peter through chopping the rest of the onion. 

Peter was weak in the knees as he whispered, “Th- thanks, Uncle Tony.” 

Tony took a step back and moved beside Peter, who was still standing frozen at the counter. He took the cutting board from Peter, scraping the contents into the pot to sizzle away merrily in the heated olive oil.

“Now,” Tony said, “we let this cook down, and then we’ll add the spices before the tomatoes.” 

Peter could barely hear him over his own internal panicking. He was hard. He was so hard. Peter had no idea why or what to do or say. He was almost near tears and started to sniffle a bit.

Tony reached over to ruffle Peter’s hair. “Did the onions get you buddy? No shame in that, I tear up myself when cutting up a big batch. Here, why don’t you add the spices?”

Peter numbly reached for the spices they’d measured out earlier, careful to keep himself angled away from his uncle, and dumped them into the pot. 

“Good boy!” Tony praised again.

Peter’s breath caught in his throat, and he coughed out his thanks, feeling his uncle’s shrewd eyes drilling into the side of his head. 

“Peter…” Tony’s voice trailed off. “Come a little closer, I really want you to see what this looks like, so you’ll know when it’s time to add the tomatoes.” Tony reached his arm around Peter’s shoulders and pulled him close to his side. Peter had to suppress a whimper of fear and pleasure as they leaned over the pot together. “You see how the onions are getting transparent? That means they’re almost done. Now, give this a good whiff.”

The sharp smell of the onions and garlic had transformed into something rounder and delicious as they cooked, and Peter could smell the spices they’d added in the scent. “It smells amazing, Uncle Tony. Do we add the tomatoes now?”

“That’s right!” Tony sounded proud. “You’re catching on so quickly, Pete.”

Peter felt his blush deepen at his uncle’s words, and watched as he added the crushed tomatoes and stirred them in. “When will it be ready?”

“Well, it’s going to take at least a few hours of simmering first.” Tony paused and considered his next words. “We have to let the flavors come together. Sometimes Pete... Waiting makes things all the better. We’ll have it for dinner tonight.”

Peter was anxious to get some space to calm down. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom,” he announced. 

“Okay, kiddo, you know where it is.” 

Peter hustled his way into the bathroom, hoping against hope that his uncle couldn’t see how hard he was inside his jeans. He was so anxious to get away that he didn’t notice how Tony watched him go, with a calculating look on his face. Peter collapsed onto the lid of the toilet and took a deep breath, trying to soothe his nerves. What was wrong with him? It almost felt like the crush he’d had on the older girl down the hall last year, but he’d never gotten hard just by being around her. Peter paled at the realization. 

“Oh my God, I have a monster crush on my uncle…” He whispered to himself. “I’m disgusting…”

Peter let the words settle in the room, sitting motionless on the toilet with his head in his hands, trying to cry as silently as possible. He tried to slow down his tears and breathing, but the reality of being a total pervert kept popping into his head, causing the tears to flood from his eyes again. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Tony’s inquiry came with a gentle knock on the door. 

Hearing his uncle’s concern only made him cry harder. 

“Shit,” Tony said from outside the bathroom. “Peter, I’m coming in, okay?” The door opened and Tony rushed to Peter’s side. He slid down onto his knees next to Peter. “Hey, Kiddo,” he said while brushing tears away from Peter’s cheeks, “what’s wrong?”

“You’re gonna hate me!” Peter sobbed. 

“Oh bambino,” Tony soothed, “whatever it is, I could never hate you.” 

Peter shook his head stubbornly as Tony pulled him into a bear hug. 

“C’mon kid, talk to me,” Tony coaxed. 

“Uncle Tony,” Peter cried out, “I- I- I can’t say it!” 

Tony rocked Peter back and forth. “Shhh, baby, it’s okay… Is this about what happened in the kitchen?”

Peter’s head popped up in shock as he sobbed out, humiliation burning inside him. “You know? You know how I got... “ He continued in a small voice. “You know how I got… hard?”

“Oh, Petey. When I was your age a stiff breeze got me hard.” Tony laughed a little. “You can’t help it, any more than you can help needing to breathe. Is this all you’re upset about?”

“No, it was you!” Peter’s confession burst out of his chest. “It was because of you I got hard, and you’re going to hate me now that you know.”

Tony only hugged him tighter. “Shhh, it’s okay, bambino. Look at me, do I look like I’m mad or that I hate you?”

Peter looked in his uncle’s warm brown eyes. All he could find was love and concern beaming out in his direction. “N- no,” Peter sniffled, “you look like you love me.”

“That’s right, I love you so much. I could never ever hate you. Never never never.” Tony kept rocking Peter back and forth as he spoke, and running his fingers through Peter’s soft wavy hair. He waited until Peter’s sobbing stopped to continue. “Can you keep a secret, Pete? Just between us guys?”

“Y- yes.” Peter hiccoughed slightly as he answered. 

“Sometimes Peter…” Tony confessed slowly, still carding his hand through Peter’s hair. “Sometimes you make me hard too.”

“I do?!” Peter blurted out in shock.

“You’re a very attractive young man, Peter…” Tony sounded a little jealous as he said, “I’m sure in a few years you’ll be fending people off with a stick.”

Peter was still processing that he could make a man like his uncle hard, or be attractive with his shrimpy little body. 

“You can always come to me with anything, Pete,” Tony soothed, “even this.” 

“Even this?” Peter was shocked. “You mean… I can come to you for help… For help if you make me hard?”

Tony chuckled. “That’s right, for anything, even if I make you hard, and you want me to help. All you have to do is ask.”

Peter was dazzled by the images that flooded into his head. Those competent hands wrapped around him, holding him close, maybe even kissing him. As the ideas came to him, suddenly his boner was back in full force. Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

Tony’s genius perception quickly picked up on Peter’s squirming. “That offer is good now,” he offered with a smirk.

Peter gathered up all his courage to ask, “Uncle Tony, will you help me?”

“I’d be happy to, Pete!” Tony smiled proudly at his nephew. 

 Like a switch flicked, suddenly the mood in the bathroom changed from melancholy disbelief to sultry heat. Tony stood and hauled Peter up from his seat, making him squawk in surprise and instinctually wrap his legs around his uncle’s waist. 

“There you go kiddo, just hang on.” Tony sounded perfectly normal, not even out of breath as he walked out of the bathroom with Peter held up in his arms. “This is hardly the place for the kind of help I’m going to give you.”

Peter’s head was spinning as he was carried through the penthouse toward his uncle’s bedroom. His hard-on was trapped against the solid wall of Tony’s abs and it took all his self control not to rut against him like a puppy. Peter leaned his head against Tony’s neck and nuzzled into him, smelling his woodsy musky cologne and underneath a delicious scent that was all Tony. 

Tony shouldered the bedroom door open and quickly made his way across to the huge, custom made bed in the center of the room. He gently set Peter down on the bed, and crawled up on the bed himself before tugging Peter into his arms. 

“Let’s talk for a sec, kiddo. Tell me what you want to happen here. Remember, all you have to do is ask me, and I’ll give it to you.”

If Peter wasn’t blushing already, he was now. “Will you kiss me? And touch me?”

Tony smiled and leaned in. “Of course. Let’s start with that kiss.”

Peter tilted his chin up hopefully and was rewarded by the gentle touch of his uncle’s lips. Peter moaned a little at how good it felt, and Tony responded by deepening the kiss, tracing his tongue across Peter’s lips and slipping it inside. Peter felt dizzy, he’d never been kissed at all before and the rush of desire he felt was intoxicating.

Tony licked at the inside of Peter’s mouth before drawing away to ask, “Doing okay, kiddo?” 

Peter blinked in confusion, trying to clear his spinning head. “‘M good,” he said dopily. 

“Good, good,” Tony cooed, “how do you feel about taking off our shirts?”

“It’s okay, sounds good to me,” Peter replied tentatively.

Tony helped Peter sit up on the edge of the bed, then pulled off both of their shirts. Peter gasped as he took in his uncle’s cut figure, reaching out with tentative hands to trace the hard muscles at his core, and gently stroke across his chest. 

“Wow, Uncle Tony… Do you work out?” 

Tony laughed. “I sure do, kiddo, I have a very well paid personal trainer who keeps me in shape.” 

Peter looked down at his own soft and slim form. “Is it okay that I’m not like you?” 

Tony reached out and caressed Peter’s arms and shoulders. “You’re perfect just the way you are, Pete.”

Peter gasped at the skin on skin contact as Tony gathered him onto his lap, brought their hips together, and kissed him deeply again. Peter grew bolder as the kiss went on, and twirled his tongue around Tony’s, participating eagerly. Unconsciously Peter’s hips started rocking back and forth, rubbing against his uncle’s answering hardness. Tony lowered his hands from Peter’s waist to grab at his perfectly round bubble butt, rocking him back and forth in a slow rhythm. Peter felt like the kiss went on for hours and lost himself in the grinding of their hips together. He could feel Tony’s hard on rubbing against his own, and moaned into the kiss as his dick leaked and twitched inside his jeans, rutting his hips more erratically against Tony’s.

Tony used his grip on Peter’s ass to slow their grinding down. “Hey there, champ, you getting close to the finish line already?”

Peter blushed and hid his face in Tony’s neck. “Sorry, Uncle Tony.”

“Oh baby, you don’t need to be sorry.” Tony kissed the top of Peter’s head. “It’s just that sometimes,” Tony purred,  “it’s better to let it simmer.”

The butterflies in Peter’s stomach were back and flying around like crazy. “L- like the sauce?”

“That’s right.” Tony grinned wide. “Want me to show you?”

Peter whimpered, “Yes!” He wanted anything and everything Uncle Tony had to show him. 

Tony moved them on the bed, making Peter sit on the edge while Tony knelt on the floor in front of him. 

“Put your hands behind your back, Peter.” Tony’s voice was smooth and confident as he coaxed Peter into position. 

The boy blinked owlishly before reaching his hands behind his back and locking one wrist in a tentative grip. “Like this?” Peter asked tentatively, leaning back naturally and displaying the tent in his jeans. 

“Exactly right, that’s a good boy.” Tony cooed, just to watch his adorable nephew’s eyelashes flutter at the praise. “Now, tell me Petey, do you ever touch yourself? Maybe in the shower, or at night when you’re all alone in your room?”

Peter blushed scarlet thinking of how he touched himself this morning, and ducked his head. “Yes- yes, sometimes I do.”

“Good, good. I’m gonna touch you just like that, but you have to promise to tell me when you get close to finishing, okay?” 

The promise sounded simple enough to Peter, so he nodded in agreement, still looking down at his lap nervously. Peter startled as Tony’s hand gently tipped up his chin, forcing him to make eye contact. 

“Hey, kiddo, are you sure you want to do this?” Tony’s voice was gentle as he checked in with his nephew. “We can stop any time you want.”

“No!” Peter blurted out. “I want to keep going, I promise!” 

Tony smiled and ruffled Peter’s hair. “Okay then, bambino, let’s get this show on the road.”

Tony rubbed both hands soothingly on Peter’s denim clad thighs, starting out light then increasing the pressure. Peter gasped as tingles trailed in the wake of his uncle’s hands. 

“That feels nice,” Peter confessed. 

Tony laughed. “I’m about to make you feel even nicer. Lift up a little for me.”

Peter obediently braced to lift his hips, letting Tony unbutton and slide the boy’s jeans down gently, leaving them in a puddle by the side of the bed. His throbbing cock slapped against the softness of his stomach, petite, flushed a delicate pink, and leaking at the tip.

“Um…” Peter started to curl in on himself before remembering to keep his hands behind his back. 

“Doing okay, kiddo?” Tony asked.

Peter could feel his blush traveling from his face down his chest. “I just… I’ve never been naked like this with someone before.”

Tony gently stroked Peter’s cheek with one reverent hand, letting it trail down to his hairless chest. “You’re beautiful. Look how soft and pretty you are.”

“Th- thank you, Uncle Tony,” Peter squeaked out. 

Tony reached out with his other hand and spanned across Peter’s chest, rubbing his hard nipples with practiced thumbs. Peter squirmed as he felt heat building in his stomach, tension already starting to coil behind where his dick stood proudly from between the apex of his thighs. His head fell back and his lips opened as a steady stream of gasps and moans fell out of his mouth. Tony tweaked Peter’s nipples, gently at first, then increased the pressure until Peter cried out.  

“Does that feel good baby?” Tony cooed over Peter’s cries. 

“Ah- ah- yes, yes it feels good.” Peter bit out, tension in his face as he processed the combination of pleasure and pain. 

Tony released his grip on Peter’s pebbled nipples and flicked them back and forth a few times before running his hands greedily down Peter’s slim chest, gently exploring his nephew’s developing form. He skimmed the sparse patch of hair above Peter’s already needy dick, then traced over the sensitive patches of skin above his hips. Peter wiggled at the tickle-pleasure-giggle feeling as Tony moved back to Peter’s thighs, carefully bypassing his straining prick. 

Peter’s patience was quickly running out. “Uncle Tony,” he panted, “aren’t you gonna touch me there?”

Tony laughed lightly. “Touch you where, bambino?” He slid his hands down to Peter’s delicate ankles and held them firmly grasped in his hands. “Here?”

“No!” Peter burst out before his voice lowered in embarrassment. “My- my dick. Aren’t you gonna touch my dick?”

“Hmm… You’re a greedy boy aren’t you?” Tony smiled a sharp grin. “Why don’t you try asking me nicely, Pete?”

“Oh!” Peter said, catching onto the rules of a game he’d never played before. “P- please, Uncle Tony, please touch my dick.”

“So polite,” Tony crooned, running his hands back up Peter’s sparsely furred legs toward his hardness. 

Tony wrapped one hand around Peter’s erection, holding it firmly in his grasp. Peter’s hips bucked up into his uncle’s grip, chasing the friction and heat. 

“Ah, hang on, kiddo,” Tony gently scolded, “let me do the work here. You just have to sit there and enjoy it. You remember the rule right?”

Peter nodded. “I hafta tell you when I’m close.”

“Good boy, that’s exactly right.” Tony practically purred.

Peter flushed again under the praise and shifted his hips restlessly where his length was still firmly wrapped in his uncle’s hand. Tony pumped his hand slowly, spreading the leaking precum down the boy’s shaft. 

Peter gasped at the feeling of tight friction around his dick. Having someone else touch him felt so different from his own hand, like electricity pinging around his nerves. Peter’s stomach tensed and quivered as that coiling feeling built back up, up, up after only a few firm strokes. 

“‘M close,” Peter slurred from his open mouth.

Tony chuckled. “Already, pretty boy? Hold off for me, for just one more minute.”

His uncle continued stroking firmly, watching Peter’s face tense and his jaw clench as he tried to be good and hold back from the edge. 

“Unc’l Tony,” Peter whined, “I’m gonna, I’m gonna!”

Tony pulled his hand away from Peter’s prick at the last second, soaking up his whines and moans, watching his hardness twitch fruitlessly in the air. 

Peter was already close to tears as his orgasm was cut off so suddenly. 

“Shhh bambino, it’s okay. Just calm down a little for me, remember? We’re letting it simmer.”

Peter’s eyes were still screwed shut. He startled as Tony leaned forward and kissed him deeply, wrapping a hand around his throat and another in his hair, tilting Peter’s head to the perfect angle to ravish his mouth. 

“Such a good boy,” Tony murmured against Peter’s lips, “you’re being so good for me. You just sit right here with your eyes closed and stay good.”

Peter could feel the air currents stir as Tony got up from his seat beside the bed and walked away. He was only gone a moment, and quickly returned to his seat. Peter heard an unfamiliar click then yelped as he felt cold liquid being dripped onto his throbbing dick. 

Tony carded his fingers through Peter’s hair as he spoke. “There we go, we’re gonna make this even better for you, baby boy.” 

“What- what was that?” gasped Peter, still reeling from the coldness against where he was running so hot. 

“Just a lil slick, to make this easier on your pretty little pecker.” Tony punctuated his words by sliding a single finger around the sensitive head of Peter’s little cock, circling around over and over till Peter thought he might scream. “That feel good, Petey?”

“Yes,” Peter hissed, “it feels good!” 

Tony smiled. “So responsive… I love that about you.”

Peter was on fire as his uncle lightly teased the tip of his leaking, needy dick. Tony was gently and inexorably drawing Peter back to the edge of ecstasy. His balls were drawing up already, hips shifting, trying not to buck up to get more contact. 

“Uncle Tony, I’m- I’m close.”

Tony pulled his hand back and rubbed soothingly on Peter’s bare thighs. “That’s a good boy, thank you for telling me.”

Peter whimpered as the praise went straight to his head, his prick leaked more precum and twitched in the air untouched. He was crying for real now, tears of frustration leaking down his face. 

Tony waited until the movements of Peter’s hips stopped and his core unclenched before reaching for the boy’s hairless balls and rolling them around gently in his sack. Peter gasped, he’d never paid much attention to this area when jerking off, and was unprepared for how sensitive they could be. He spread his legs a little wider to give Tony better access, and was rewarded by fingers pressing firmly against the sensitive skin below his balls. 

“F- fuck! I’m gonna cum!” Peter cried out, the pressure coiling in his gut suddenly springing tighter, dick slapping untouched against his stomach as his hips bucked uncontrollably. 

“Tssk, listen to that foul mouth,” Tony chided playfully, gently tugging Peter’s balls down from where they were rising up. 

“Sorry, Uncle Tony,” Peter panted, “it just feels so good."

Tony kept the pressure on that sensitive patch of skin and rolled the palm of his hand around the weeping head of Peter’s cock. He slowly moved his hand to grip around Peter’s shaft before pumping slowly. 

Peter was on fire, sweat prickling under his arms and behind his knees. He’d never waited so long to cum before and the tension was swirling through his body again, coiling in his gut, coalescing in a pool of heat attached to his throbbing cock. Peter’s head was thrown back, mouth wide open as he fought against moving his hips up into Tony’s grasp. He was entirely unprepared for the feeling of a hot tongue lapping at the slit of his dick. 

“Ah! Close, close!” Peter sobbed. 

Tony drew back and laughed. “You taste so good, Petey. I think I’ll have some more.” 

Peter’s toes curled as his uncle suddenly swallowed Peter’s slim length down to the root, surrounding him in scorching liquid heat. He could feel Tony’s tongue pressing his dick against the roof of his mouth, bobbing his head and sucking hard. 

“Fuck, fuck!” Peter screamed out. “Uncle Tony, stop, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

Peter looked down desperately at his uncle who didn’t seem to be stopping. Like Tony could feel his gaze, he peered up at Peter through long dark lashes, and winked, while still bobbing his head on Peter’s prick. His self control broke. Peter’s hands flew from behind his back and gripped at Tony’s hair in a futile attempt to ground himself against the waves of pleasure shooting through his young body. Tony let out a groan of surprise that vibrated around Peter’s dick, ratcheting the tension in Peter’s core to new heights. 

Peter howled to the ceiling as a wave of lightning overtook his slim form, curling forward around Tony’s head as his hips moved up repeatedly into Tony’s hot mouth. White blanked out his vision and his body stiffened as he began to shoot spurts of hot cum into his uncle’s welcoming mouth. Tony swallowed down everything Peter had to offer, and kept sucking on Peter’s hardness even after his orgasm was complete, until Peter was flinching and sobbing and trying to get away from his mouth. Tony pulled off Peter’s dick with a wet pop, rubbing soothingly against Peter’s thighs and pressing sweet kisses to all the skin he could reach.

“Shh, that’s a good boy,” Tony cooed, “You’re so good for me, baby. You wanna keep being good?”

Peter was laid flat on the bed, knees still spread over the edge, panting in the aftermath with a spinning head. He raised back on his elbows to look at his uncle. Tony stood up as he spoke, and there was a huge, intimidating bulge right at eye level.

Peter gulped in nervous apprehension. “What- What do you want me to do.”

Tony dropped back down to his knees, caressing Peter’s legs. “Oh, baby, no, we don’t have to do anything else. You’re just so sexy, and you made me so hard. I can’t help but want you.”

Peter squirmed a little on the bed. “Well, it’s only fair, right?” He asked his uncle.

Tony grinned a little. “You’re right, it would be fair for you to help me.”

Peter gathered his courage and smiled back. “Will you help me?”

“Remember, Petey? I’ll always help you.”

Suddenly Peter felt silly for being so worried just moments before. “Okay, Uncle Tony, I want to help you too.”

“There’s my good boy.” Tony smiled up at Peter proudly. “You just have let me use your hands, just like you’d use them when you touch yourself.”

Tony unbuttoned his pants and slid them down his thighs. Peter gasped at the sight of his uncle’s cock. It was so much bigger than his, flushed a ruddy red, and springing from a nest of close cropped dark curls at the base. His balls were hanging heavily below the shaft, which poked straight up in the air. The tip glistened slightly with precum, and Peter felt his mouth fill with saliva at the sight. 

Peter leaned forward and offered his hands to his uncle. Tony gently grasped them in his own and wrapped them around his hardness. Peter marveled at the feel of silk over steel, tightening his grip involuntarily as he felt the desperate throbbing in his uncle’s cock.

“Yes-” Tony hissed out, “that’s a good boy, Peter, you’re doing exactly right.” 

Peter pumped his hands curiously, observing the heat on Tony’s face, listening to him moan low in his throat. 

“Can you go a little faster, baby boy?”

Peter nodded eagerly and moved his hands up and down in a rapid rhythm. Tony was cursing under his breath as his hips bucked into Peter’s grip.

“Fuck kid,” he swore, “your little hands feel so good wrapped around me.”

Tony looked up at him, desperation all over his face. “Peter… Do you want to taste me like I tasted you?” 

Peter mulled over the question in his mind, recalling how he felt somehow hungry at the first glimpse of his uncle’s cock. He quickly nodded, too shy to voice the words, and stopped his pumping to offer a hand. 

Tony didn’t need the help. He quickly stood, pants still hanging around his thighs and pulled Peter forward on the bed in one smooth motion. 

Peter stared at the cock pointing directly toward his mouth. He grabbed it with one hand, and flicked his tongue out to experimentally lick the flared head. Peter mused at the flavor of musk and slightly bitter precum before swirling his tongue around it, just like Uncle Tony had swirled his finger around Peter. Tony gasped, and his dick twitched up in Peter’s grasp. Peter smiled to himself and kept licking eagerly, loving the idea of returning pleasure to his uncle. 

“Shit, shit, you’re such a good boy Petey. You’re doing such a good job licking. Can you put it in your mouth and suck? That’s all you have to do.”

Peter nodded around Tony’s straining cock, tasting more precum flowing from the tip as he did. He carefully wrapped his lips over his teeth, and popped the head of Tony’s dick in his mouth, feeling like the flared tip was taking up all the available space. Peter sucked cautiously around the intrusion before becoming more comfortable, and sucking harder. Tony reached down and started jerking his shaft roughly and with the ease of long practice, grunting deeply with every stroke. 

“Oh fuck, here it comes. Fuck baby, you’re being so good.” Tony let out a long moan and pulled his cock out of Peter’s mouth with a low pop. “Just- just- shut your eyes and stay- right- there-”

Peter did as he was told, and could feel long, hot stripes of cum splashing across his face. He cautiously opened his eyes when they stopped, and saw his Uncle standing in front of him with flushed cheeks and a slowly softening cock. 

“Aw, kiddo I got you so dirty, but you look so pretty.” Tony reached forward and traced the edge of one of the lines of cum with his thumb. “It’s a shame, but let’s get you cleaned up.”

Tony reached down and scooped Peter up for the second time that day to carry him into the bathroom. Tony set his nephew on the bathroom counter and dampened a soft cloth to erase the evidence of their help.

“You are so good bambino, you did such a good job for me.”

Peter squirmed under the gentle touches and wrinkled his nose as his uncle gently cleaned his face. “Uncle Tony…” 

Tony lifted the cloth to look Peter in the eyes. “What is it Petey? Everything okay?”

“Can- Can we keep this a secret, just between us guys?”

Tony laughed and wrapped his arms around Peter, kissing the top of his mussed curls before he spoke. “Of course baby boy, what happens at Uncle Tony’s should stay at Uncle Tony’s.” Tony finished wiping Peter’s face and pressed a series of kisses across his clean skin. “There we go champ. Now, we have just enough time for a movie before we have to go get the pasta ready. What would you like to watch?”

[wisdomrays]

TAFAKKUR: Part 367

TRANSGENIC TECHNOLOGY AND RELIGION: Part 2

FURTHER DIMENSIONS OF SCIENCE IN THE QUR'AN

'In the wise Qur'an there are many apparently insignificant events behind each of which is hidden a universal principle, and which are presented as the tip of a general law. For example, the verse (He) taught Adam the names of all of them. (al-Baqara, 2.32) mentions that Adam was taught 'the names' as a miracle to demonstrate his superiority over the angels in being favoured with God's vicegerency on the earth—the rule of the earth in the name of God. This is, in appearance, a small and particular event but it constitutes the tip of a universal principle which is as follows: On account of his comprehensive nature, man was taught (or given the potential to obtain) lots of information, and many sciences concerning all aspects of the universe, and extensive knowledge about the Creator's Attributes and acts, which gave him superiority over not only the angels but also the heavens and earth and mountains in bearing the Supreme Trust, and made him the ruler of the earth in the name of God.

Likewise, the prostration of the angels before Adam by contrast with Satan's rejection is a small, particular event in the Unseen. However, it is the tip of a most comprehensive, universally observed principle, and suggests a most extensive truth which is as follows: By mentioning the angels' obedience and submission before the person of Adam and Satan's haughty refusal, the Qur'an makes understood that most of the material beings in the universe and their spiritual representatives are subjugated to man and are ever-ready to satisfy all the needs and desires of all of his faculties. In addition, the Qur'an warns man against the evil beings and their immaterial representatives and the devilish inhabitants of the earth, who corrupt his potential for perfection and seduce him into wrong paths, and it reminds him what terrible enemies and great obstacles in the path of his progress toward perfection they are. Thus, while narrating a particular matter pertaining to a single individual—Adam, upon him be peace—the Qur'an of miraculous expression holds an elevated discourse with the whole creation and all mankind.

The Qur'an states that everything, wet or dry, is found in it. Is that really so? Yes, everything is found in it, but everyone cannot see that everything therein, as the things are found at different levels. The Qur'an contains all things, either in the form of seeds, or of nuclei, or of summaries, or principles, or signs, and they are found either explicitly or implicitly, or allusively, or vaguely, or suggestively. One or other of these forms is preferred according to occasion, in a way fitting for the purposes of the Qur'an and in connection with the requirements of the context. For example: As the result of man's progress in science and industry, some scientific and technological wonders such as aeroplanes, electricity, motor vehicles, and means of radio and telecommunication have come into existence and taken the most prominent position in the material life of mankind. As it addresses the whole of mankind [at all times], the wise Qur'an certainly does not ignore these. Indeed, it has not ignored them and points to them in two ways: The first is by way of the miracles of the Prophets. The second is in connection with certain historical events, for example: Down with the makers of the trench of the fuel-fed fire! When they sat by it, and were themselves the witnesses of, what they did to the believers. They ill-treated them for no other reason than that they believed in God, the Mighty, the All-Praised One. (al-Buruj, 85.4-8) Likewise, …in the loaded fleet. And We have created for them the like thereof whereon they ride. (Ya Sin, 36.41-2) Verses like these point to trains, while the following verse, besides having many other meanings and connotations, alludes to electricity: God is the light of the heavens and the earth. The parable of His light is as a niche where in is a lamp, the lamp is in a glass. The glass is as it were a shining star. Kindled from a blessed tree, an olive, neither of the East or of the West, whose oil would almost glow forth (of itself) though no fire touched it: Light upon light. God guides to His Light whom He wills. (al-Nur, 24.35)

As God Almighty sent the Prophets to human communities as leaders and vanguards in respect of spiritual and moral progress, so also He endowed them with certain wonders and miracles and made them the masters and forerunners with respect to man's material progress. He commands men to follow them absolutely. Thus, just as by speaking of the spiritual and moral perfections of the Prophets, the Qur'an encourages people to benefit from them, so too in presenting their miracles it intends that people should try to achieve the like of them in scientific way. It may even be said that like spiritual and moral attainments, material attainments and wonders were also first given to mankind as a gift through Prophetic miracles. The Prophet Noah, upon him be peace, was the first to build ships, and Joseph, upon him be peace, the clock. Therefore, the ship and clock were first given to mankind as Prophetic miracles. It is a meaningful indication to this reality that so many craft guilds take a Prophet as the 'patron' or originator of their craft. For example, seamen take Noah, watchmakers take Joseph, tailors take Enoch, upon them be peace, and so on. Since truth-seeking scholars and the science of eloquence have agreed that each of the Qur'an's verses contains guidance and instruction, then the verses concerning the miracles of the Prophets, the most brilliant among the Qur'an's verses, should not be taken as historical events; rather they comprise numerous meanings of guidance. Truly, by mentioning the miracles of the Prophets, the Qur'an shows the ultimate goal of scientific and technological developments, and specifies their final aims. It urges man forward toward those aims. Just as the past is the field for the seeds of the future and mirror to its potential, so too the future is the time to reap the harvest of the past life and mirror to the actual situation.

Now out of many examples, I shall point out only a few: The verse, And to Solomon (We subjugated) the wind: its morning stride was a month's journey and the evening stride was a month's journey. (al-Saba', 34.12) which expresses the subjugation of the wind to Solomon as one of his miracles, says: “The Prophet Solomon covered the distance of two months walk in two strides by flying through the air.” By this it suggests that the road is open for mankind to cover the same distance in the air. “So,O mankind! Since the road is open to you, attain this level and do so!” Almighty God also means by this verse: “O man! A servant of mine did not obey his carnal desires, and I mounted him on the air. If you give up laziness and benefit properly from certain of My laws in nature, you too can mount it.”

The verse, When Moses asked for water for his people, We said: 'Strike the rock with your staff.' Then gushed forth there from twelve springs (so that) each tribe knew their drinking place' (al-Baqara, 2.60) indicates that it is quite possible to benefit with simple tools from the treasuries of Mercy under the earth. In places hard as rock even, the water for life may be drawn with so simple a device as a staff. Thus, through this meaning, the verse says to man, “You can find the finest blessing of Mercy, the water for life, with a staff-like device. Therefore, come on, work and find it!” Through this verse, God Almighty suggests: “O man! Since I gave to a servant of Mine who relied on Me such a staff that he draws with it the water for life from wherever he wishes, you too can obtain a device resembling it provided you rely on My laws of Mercy. So, come and do so!” One of the important results of scientific developments which mankind have achieved is the invention of devices with which water is caused to well up from most of the places where they are applied. The verse points to further goals and limits beyond that, just as the previous one specified further attainments far ahead of today's aeroplanes.

The verse, I heal him who was born blind, and the leper, and I raise the dead by God's leave. (Al 'lmran, 3.49) concerning a miracle of Jesus, upon him be peace, alludes to and encourages the highest level of healing with which the Lord endowed him. It suggests: “it is possible to find cures for even the most chronic ailments. Therefore, O man! O calamity-stricken sons of Adam! Do not despair! Whatever the ailment, its cure is possible. Search for it and you will find it. It is even possible to give a temporary tinge of life to death.” By the verse God Almighty means: “O man! To a servant of Mine who renounced the world for My sake, I gave two gifts, one the remedy for spiritual ailments, the other the cure for physical sicknesses. Dead hearts were quickened through the light of guidance, and ill people who were as though dead found health through his breath and cure. You too may find the cure for all illnesses in My 'pharmacy' in nature where I attached to each thing many important purposes. Work and find it! You will certainly find if you seek it!” Thus, this verse marks the final point of medical developments, a point far ahead of the present level, and urges man towards it. In view of the explanations of Said Nursi, we can say that genetics will realize further successes than cloning. The Qur'an tells us that God created the human race from a single 'soul'— human nature, according to some interpreters, It is narrated from the Prophet Muhammad, upon him be peace and blessings, that Eve was created from Adam's rib. Also, we read in the Qur'an that Adam was created from 'clay'. Whatever is meant by 'clay', it is clear that Adam was created without a father and mother. Again, Jesus, upon him be peace, was created without a father—Virgin Mary gave birth to him—and the Prophets Isaac and John were gave born by old, sterile women. These are examples marking further points of developments in genetics. Besides the Qur'an, we find also in the sayings of the Prophet Muhammad, upon him be peace and blessings, indications to further steps of genetics. For example, as recorded in reliable sources of Tradition such as Sahih al-Muslim (Fitan, 110) and Sunan al-Tirmidhi (Fitan, 59), the Prophet predicted that one day would come when a single pomegranate would suffice for as many as twenty people, with its rind providing shade for them. He also prophesied that the wheat produced in so small an area as a house balcony would be enough for the annual consumption of a family.

[dc41896]

While Mom’s Away...

Hey guys😊👋🏾! So we all know the video of Chris telling Dodger “bed time” and he grabs his lion like usual until he gets a new one and has an adorable internal conflict right? Well I was thinking what if instead of Dodger it was his kid and thus here we are! Just a heads up it’s probably gonna be really short.

Pairing: Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: None all fluff💕!

Hubs🥰: I know you’re still a little emotional about being away, so I thought you’d get a kick out of our daughter having her first big dilemma today 😂

Clicking on the frozen still, the video begins to play showing Chris’ point of view as he walks into your one year old daughter, Aida’s, room. Sitting on the cream colored carpeted floor in her Sesame Street pajamas, she turns the pages of her “My First 100 Words” picture book more so concerned with how the pages looked moving versus what was on them.

“Alright princess it’s bedtime,” he announced making her look up with doe like brown eyes. “You want to grab your sleepy pal to bring with you?”

Quietly babbling to herself, she totters over to her toy chest making Chris smile at how precious she looked still getting the hang of walking. Since she was about nine months old, Aida couldn’t go to bed unless her smiling panda bear stuffed animal, or sleepy pal from the name on the tag, was beside her. So like every night before, she grabbed her toy ready to go to bed.

However seeing the new golden teddy bear you gave her before you left, Aida stopped in her tracks as she intently looked between the two.

“What’s wrong love?”

Now holding a bear in each hand, she walks up to Chris’ leg holding up her arms to show him her issue.

“Dada,” she spoke before babbling some more.

“Uh oh, trying to decide which one? I don’t know either bub, which do you like more?”

Looking back and forth between her hands again, she takes turns holding up each one and looking up at her father after as if saying “what about this one?”

“Okay how about you bring both with you?,” he chuckles watching her hold up both bears again slightly tilting her head. “Yea lets bring both.”

Bending down to pick her up with his free arm, she giggles holding her toys close to her body and lying her head on his shoulder.

“You are definitely your mother’s child,” he laughs kissing the top of her head as he walks out into the hall.

“Gee! Gee!”

“Yea tell Dodger to come on it’s time for bed.”

Following behind, Dodger pads across the floor with his lion in his mouth and tail wagging seemingly ready for sleep. Switching the camera so you could see his face, he smiles lightly bouncing Aida who looks as if she’ll be out any second.

“Aida look at the phone, say night mama!”

“Mama,” she repeats curiously looking at the phone and wondering where he could’ve seen you since all she saw was herself and her father.

“Can you blow a kiss? Say love you.” Doing as she’s told, she lifts her tiny hand to her mouth with a “ma” before sleepily giggling as she lies her head back down.

“Love you babe, good luck on your presentation tomorrow! We miss you and can’t wait till you get back,” he smiles bringing the phone close to his lips to kiss the screen before the video ended.

Softly giggling, you sniffle as you wipe away your stray tears that fell while you were watching now wishing more than ever that you could be home with your family.

You knew being away from them, even if only for a couple days would be hard, but you didn’t think you’d be ready to quit your job if it meant being able to catch an early flight back. Knowing that you couldn’t though, you lie your head on the white pillows behind you mentally counting down the hours until you could hold your loves again.

Y/N: Whoever’s in the room next to me is probably so confused because I’m laughing and sobbing 😂. Love and miss you guys too❤️❤️

Y/N: And don’t think I didn’t catch that slight dig, it’s not our fault we can’t decide 🤣

Taglist: @crushed-pink-petals-writes @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @renfrewscorner @secretmysteriousperson @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @itshinothey

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

[sleekervae]

Suck It And See [0.1]

Masterlist

"Attention all passengers, next stop is:"

"Sheffied Station,"

There was a notable shiver that ran through the air as the soft, feminine introduction was cut short by the blunt, robotic voice that muffled out the train's next destination. The pit of jitterbugging nerves in Jade's stomach reached a new boiling point as she felt the mobile car gradually begin to slow. She pulled her earbuds out and grabbed her luggage case, yanking it through the tight aisle with all the might she had in her tiny body. The conductor was kind enough to hold the sliding door open for her as she came into the pass and hopped out of the side door. The smell of burning coal and engine oil wafted into her nose and made her shiver in disgust.

The station was teaming with people, all of them buzzing back and forth in order to catch their departing train or eager to head home for the day. Jade reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper; it was a portrait of the family that was supposed to be taking care of her. Her mum's sister, Aunt Joy, as well as her Uncle Cosmo, and her cousins, Oliver, Noah, Charlie, Alfie, and Flora; relatives whom she hardly knew growing up as they lived roughly three hours away by train.

They're faces in the photo were off to her, perhaps it was the fact that nobody was smiling? Perhaps it was that the photo was about five years old and the faces were younger? Regardless, Jade's eyes scanned the crowd until she was able to just make out the familiar face of an older, but gorgeous, well-dressed woman standing by the turnstiles; looking absolutely appalled to be standing so close to the mechanisms. Meanwhile, her teenage daughter was sitting on a bench as she flipped through some random fashion magazine.

Pulling her luggage behind her, Jade tentatively approached the older woman. Once her eyes landed on the teenage brunette, her face lit up.

"Oh, my stars! Jade!?" she exclaimed, seemingly enthusiastic to see her. Jade nodded slowly and cracked a shy smile.

"A-Aunty Joy?" she stammered back.

The older woman wrapped Jade into a tight hug, engulfing her in her pungent, suffocating rose-scented perfume. The teenager -- Flora, she presumed -- was reluctant to put away her magazine and stand up, but she did anyhow and forced a smile onto her face. Flora was wearing tight, ripped jeans and velvet sweater with a black tank top underneath. Her long, honey blonde hair was tied into a tight ponytail atop her head with pom-pom elastics keeping it in place. She had shimmery, silver eyeshadow dusting her eyelids and shiny pink lipgloss smeared over her lips. To Jade, she looked like a washed up circus performer.

Aunt Joy meanwhile held herself with pride. She was dressed in a fine black pantsuit and three-inch pumps. Her voluminous, mousy brown hair was loose and curly, brushing over her shoulders, and every inch of her face was covered in fine, sophisticated makeup. Needless to say, this woman stood out like an onion in a bean dip within the station.

Aunt Joy released Jade from her bone-crushing hug and held her face in her hands, seemingly studying her. Her semi-wrinkled hands were surprisingly soft against Jade's skin, "Aw, you look just like your mother," she gushed, but the soft, kind expression in her eyes suddenly shifted to something more... indifferent, "We'll have that fixed before you leave, dear,"

Jade wasn't sure how to respond to that, besides an awkward "okay,". She turned and looked at Flora, who still had her nose buried in the magazine. Aunt Joy snapped at her.

"Flora!" her posh accent boomed at her, "Put that trashy thing away and say hi to your cousin," she requested -- no, demanded.

Flora rolled her eyes and stood, then she wrapped her weak little bird arms around Jade. Flora wasn't much younger than Jade, only by a few months. Regardless, she was short enough to be confused for a twelve-year-old.

"You've grown up," Jade forced herself to say, hoping that Flora might take her as genuine. Instead, she quickly dropped her arms from the hug and stood back. She glared down at Jade's chunky, dirt stained, white converse sneakers and snared at her.

"Why are your eyebrows so big?" she asked.

Jade, once again, wasn't sure how to respond. She subconsciously ran her fingers over her right eyebrow, feeling at the little hairs that brushed against her skin. They were only a bit longer than  Flora's smaller, nearly bleached blonde eyebrows.

"Whatcha' mean?" she could only reply.

Aunt Joy glared at her daughter before she turned on her heels, "Flora, there is nothing wrong with Jade's eyebrows. If wants bushy eyebrows, that's her prerogative,"

Jade wasn't sure whether she should thank her Aunt for standing up for her, or shudder at the sly insult.

Nevertheless, Aunt Joy lead the two girls out of the station and into the parkade. There they all walked towards a silver, classy Mercedes Benz. Aunt Joy popped the trunk and rounded to the driver's side door, while Flora went for the shotgun. Neither of them helped Jade as she struggled to pick up her luggage and put it into the car's small trunk. Once she slammed the door shut, she jumped into the backseat just as the engine roared to life.

The car ride was mostly silent, the only exception being when Joy would asked Jade about her mother. Ruth Carswell was sick, too sick for a few doctor's visits here and there and drug store prescriptions for a quick-fix. Jade didn't like to talk about it much; hence why she chose to come to Sheffield to continue her school. With the medical bills piling up, as well as some bills left over from her parents' divorce, Aunt Joy and Uncle Cosmo were kind enough to take Jade into their home and pay for her school, right up until she would graduate.

"She needs a stable home environment!" Uncle Cosmo would say over the phone. Ruth Carswell was gracious to her sister for taking in her only daughter, while Jade's father, Peter, wasn't as ecstatic to have his fifteen-year-old daughter living three hours away from home.

Jade continued to stare out the window, glaring at the passing dull brick buildings and wet streets. Few people were out; cycling, smoking, sitting on benches and not doing much of anything for entertainment. At least in Newcastle, there was some life that was always breathing its way into the city; this town seemed half-dead.

As they passed a large sign that read Rotherham in white, cursive lettering, the dark, boring brick buildings soon emerged into flatter plains and larger townhouses. They were regal, conservative, and clean, as though just built and painted in a fresh coat. But just as before, nobody was on the streets. It was eery to Jade.

Aunt Joy turned into a cul-de-sac and pulled into a driveway just as the end of the ring. Before them was a beautiful, victorian-style dark green and red house. Its colours matched in tandem with the bushy coniferous trees and bustling flower gardens. The curtains were all drawn open and the grass was a gorgeous, rich green, still damp. On the porch was a darling little bench swing built in rustic, varnished wood. It appeared as a happy home, to Jade and the rest of the world, at least.

Aunt Joy marched up the small staircase while Flora hopped behind her; again, neither of them bothering to help Jade. Luckily for her, Uncle Cosmo opened the door, puffing on his pipe with a big, joyous smile on his face.

"There she is!" he awed. He swept passed his wife and daughter and went right up to Jade, wrapping her in a bear hug. Unlike Aunt Joy, Uncle Cosmo's hug was comfortable, familiar to Jade. His expensive, subtle cologne mixed with his pipe smoke, delicious and bubbly as the scent wafted up Jade's nose. Despite how little she did get to see Uncle Cosmo, she enjoyed spending time with him. He was a kind man with a heart of gold and a hand that was constantly open.

It made Jade wonder why on Earth he would've married Aunt Joy.

"Yeh're growing faster than a weed, darlin'!" he exclaimed, "Last I saw yeh, yeh was just knee-'igh to a grass'opper,"

Jade finally felt herself relax in Uncle Cosmo's embrace, "It's been a while, hasn't it?" she replied.

Uncle Cosmo took the luggage from her and hauled it up the stairs with ease with Jade following. Flora had long disappeared inside her home with Aunt Joy stood off to the side of the door, watching her husband with a derivative of adoration. Her gaze followed them inside before she slammed the door shut, making Jade wince at the sudden cacophonous calamity. Aunty Joy and Uncle Cosmo gave Jade a brief tour of the large house, the sitting room, the kitchen, the basement, rooms she could and could not enter due to 'privacy reasons'.

Her uncle excused himself to his office soon after, his pager had gone off. That left Jade alone with her Aunt. She struggled to pull her luggage up the two flights of stairs Aunt Joy was leading her. They descended down a brightly lit hallway with gorgeous, crisp white panelled doors. One of them was covered in Hot Wheel and Transformers stickers, no doubt that room belonged to her youngest cousin, Alfie.

"The boys are just out at their lacrosse practice, dear. They should be back by dinner time and you can all get reacquainted," Aunt Joy said to her. The older woman turned the corner in the hallway and came to another white door, seemingly decayed and left abandoned by the the passing of time. She wrenched the knob and turned it with a loud creak and pushed it open.

"And here we are. Home, sweet home," Aunt Joy seemingly sang. Jade followed her in, and she found herself standing in a small bedroom. It was perched in the back roost of the house, with dull, beige walls, stained and scratched floorboards, and a single window that overlooked the backyard. The bed was turned down with plump, freshly cleaned sheets and linens, and in the corner was a small desk, chair, and lamp. In the opposing corner was a four-foot long clothing rack. To put bluntly, the room lacked any personality whatsoever.

Jade looked around the room, finding disturbing patterns on the floor. They were boxy in shape and a few shades lighter than the rest of the floorboards. The room smelled of mothballs and lemon pledge, as well as something stuffy. Perhaps it would have been better once she had opened a window?

Jade didn't dare ask her aunt, but she had a creeping suspicion that she had placed her in what was once the attic.

"Now then," Aunt Joy stood by the door as Jade looked around, "House rules: no running down the halls, no loud noises, and if you're going to have friends over, you must approve with myself first. Oh, and no smoking in the house,"

Jade felt her nerves fizzle as she turned around, seemingly dumbfounded, "I'm sorry?" she quipped.

The older woman simply giggled as though she had told a silly joke, "Oh please, dear. I know nicotine when I smell it. You get that awful habit from your mum," she said, "Nevertheless, I'll let you get yourself settled. Dinner's at seven-thirty, I expect you to be downstairs by seven-fifteen. You need to use the bathroom, it's just down the hall. Just be sure you knock first; Flora likes to experiment with her makeup in there," she said.

"Alright," Jade replied tentatively, "Erm -- is there somewhere for me to plug in me phone?" she asked, noting that there were no outlets in the walls. Perhaps, since this was really the attic, the family figured they wouldn't need any electrical outlets.

"Oh," Aunt Joy brought a hand to her face as she looked around in thought, "Well -- I'm sure Cosmo has one in the office you can use. He shouldn't mind too much," she said.

Jade only nodded in reply. Aunt Joy left the shut the door behind her, giving her time to get herself settled. Jade looked tirelessly around the joyless room, figuring out ways in which she could liven it up. Perhaps with some old movie posters or art pieces? Jade placed her luggage at the foot of the rickety-looking clothing rack, pulled off her jacket and let it fall to the floor, and she took a seat on the bed. Despite the plush linens, the bed was hard, creaky, and uncomfortable. Cold and uncomfortable -- just like the rest of the house.

She let out a heavy sigh and laid back on the bed, immediately her eyes landed on a crack in the angled ceiling. Maybe by luck, a poisonous spider would come down from said crack, bite her, and take her out of this wretched situation? Because the Lord only knew how badly she wanted to be at home, with her own loving, but broken family.

[celestianstars]

What type of lover is Henry?

I think Henry is the type of lover to be all about seeing you succeed and having a back and forth of encouragement about your goals as well as his

He seems like he’s the type to enjoy just being at home with you snuggled up with Kal and some good wine

He’s realistic about things, he doesn’t sugarcoat reality or tell you what you want to hear all the time, he’s honest with you, tells you like it is in a gentle way

Big time cuddler, I just feel it lol like he’s a teddy bear and just wants to hold you!

He’s not always an open book so sometimes you really have to stop and ask how he’s doing

Henry is the type to always be trying to convince you to let him take you on a motorcycle ride even if you’re scared

Also he loves seeing you in Superman gear of any kind, especially if it’s one of his clothing items, always makes him smile

He loves taking you on vacations with him and when both your schedules allow it, having you come with him while he’s filming a movie

He gets excited off your interest in his work and he always tried to reciprocate that support and attention

He’s just amazing and kind and a sweetheart even when there’s ups and downs 💕

@themyscxiras @dc41896 @crushed-pink-petals @lady-olive-oil @bibicarson @laketaj24 @lavitabella87 @thorohdamnson @captainsamwlsn @valkyriesnymph @angry-student-student @breddiefrooks @amelatonin

[docholligay]

Theoretical food question: we just watched an episode of Iron Chef America and they used potato chips as the secret ingredient. I immediately thought of you and wondered what 5 dishes you would make if you were on that show and had full use of their pantry. Would it be any different if you made those dishes at home?

I don’t necessarily think i am in any way good enough for Iron Chef, so I don’t know that this answer will be very good! Potato chips are a tough ingredient, because they’re basically gimmicky. It’s not like you can highlight the freshness of the ingredient or anything. I would be FRUSTRATE. 

But into each life, a little rain must fall, and so I would bear this struggle with great strength and dignity. I haven’t watched Iron Chef from either shore in a very long time, but as I recall they would attempt to do a sort of coursing in their presentation, and so I will do the same. 

First I would present a potato chip soup with shrimp as a garnish. I’d use the potato chips as a soup base in the same way you would use an instant potato flake to build a soup base, if one had to, but I would be able to offset it with cream and white wine in a way not generally available when one is using the instant potatoes from the food bank box to make soup. I would then garnish it with shrimp that are rolled in a crushed potato chip and quick fried, also with some green onion as I feel is legally obligated to be on every potato soup. I would put forth some utter horseshit about being inspired by the prawn chips on had on vacation in London and how it reminded me of all the wonderful times I had there. (I do, to this day, love prawn chips) 

Second, if I’m going to fly into this vein of “potato chip flavors I have tried” as the basis for my menu, which I guess is what I’m doing right now, I would go directly into sour cream and onion, which would be a really easy skate. I would make a potato chip topped mini pie, with fresh herbs and sour cream or creme fraiche if I want to be fancy as the base. My only honest concern here would be some similarity to the soup, but I think with a real handle on seasoning and a good crust, you could get around that. I dunno if I would try blind baking the bottom crust at all? Would I be brave enough to actually make the whole crust out of potato chips? Mysteries all. 

The third one I’m not sure if I even think it works, but WHAT IF, you basically liquified salt and vinegar chips with some….olive oil, maybe, and made a pasta sauce, and then garnished it with crushed salt and vinegar chips? You’d have to make sure you had a good balance of oil and laid off the parmesan because of the salt content, but I think it COULD do something, and more importantly I think it would be ever so slightly INTERESTING compared to the other stuff I’m making, which I think is fairly obvious in idea. 

For my next trick, I’m going to do a fried chicken with barbecue chip crusting on it. Doc, you’re going to burn the chips LONG before you cook the chicken and POSSIBLY, but if a smart person par-cooked the chicken in a pressure cooker with beer and then did a quick fry at the end, not only do I think it would give superior flavor, but I think I could avoid the problem of burning the chips. I would serve it with a mashed potato chip puree and I’m gonna be honest here: I have doubts. I don’t know if I think there’s actually a way to make this work, maybe by blending it with real potato? I mean, I can hear the criticism now, and it’s not UNFAIR, but. 

For dessert, I’m going to do a flight! First, a rich vanilla ice cream with a potato chip-caramel ribbon, again, I’m not sure how well this would work but I really want to try. I would put that with a chocolate chip potato chip cookie (have made, does work), and a simple ruffled potato chip dipped in dark couverture

[ketomaxscience]

Keto Max Science How to Use, Benefits and Where to Buy?

Keto Max Science

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Concerning admission recurrence, allude into the bearings found on the enhancement's bundle mark. Except if told in any case by any unfriendly wellbeing proficient, feel free to take portion suggested by maker. Consequently, you might want to consolidate food sources like nuts and beans, oats, olives and so forth, in your every day diet. Having said that, the significant is discover them in it's a decent. Try not to go over the edge together. One more basic thing is limit your utilization of sugars. Abundance inside express profound gratitude to bring about more significant Levels of insulin and this is considered be the chemical which is behind fat cell work in build. Depending of your sex, your body does are around 55% t0 60% water supply. Suppose you work out a great deal in the warming of hotter. This makes one perspiration superb arrangement. In the event that measure of water that the genuine is losing isn't supplanted in extent, could become we gotten dry. You have shed pounds, really. Your body has lost a significant measure of water, yet this could be unsafe into a wellbeing. Many Weight Loss Pills close to the market today are designed for this very thing. They are just water pills that an individual to oust abundance levels of water that thus, decline your own weight while holding the muscle versus fat. Popular not weight end.

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Does it convey what it claims? Can be one sound things feel about prior to purchasing weight reduction supplements. While that caralluma is a useful weight reduction supplement, however there are organizations who are not genuine with respect to assembling experts. Quest the web for declarations of genuine individuals who have utilized explicit brands of products. You must be certain you are having what you paid intended for. You should consistently be secure and safe when purchasing supplements for weight decreasing. At the point when you are without a brand conveys that professes to do, at that point purchase with full certainty and guarantee that you do prescribe it to others. Thusly, both you and individuals who notice your suggestion can appreciate the advantages with this characteristic framework. Drink a lot of water. Healthy keep your framework hydrated due to this working essentially. In any event, when you are not working out, the base measure of liquids you will require take was six to eight glasses a second. In the event that you are working out, you should drink more than that.

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