#of all the Christian girls i know who are looking for a faithful steady man in these trying times

[thebirdandhersong]

Granted. There are two problems

[jawritter]

The Arrangement

Part 1

Summery: You are a young girl that was raised in a small church in Dallas, TX. One of the only churches left in the state that still practices arranged marriages. When your betrothed ran off to California you thought you'd escape the fate you were trained for ever since a small child. Now upon the death your parents your fate seemed to be inescapable as he's returned, and is ready to take you as his bride.

Book Warnings: Arranged marriage, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex, angst, language, suicide attempt, battles with anxiety, struggles with mental illness, age gap (about 11 years), I think that’s it, chapters will have warnings of their own!

Chapter Warnings: Grief, dealing with the death of parents, talk of arranged marriage, some language probably? I think that’s it really.

Word Count: 1140

A/N: This book is a book about Christian and church based arranged marriages, I would like to take this moment to say that I DO NOT have ANYTHING against the Chirstian faith, and mean absolutely no harm to anyone! Especially Jensen’s family! This is a complete work of fiction, and should be treated as such!

Beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons who was awesome enough to do all this for me! It was a lot of work, and she deserves all the praise for it!!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

Looking around at the boxes and items that are stacked haphazardly around the room full of all your childhood memories, you can't help but take a deep breath to try and steady yourself, doing all you could to ward off all the memories that threaten to flood in and invade your emotions.

Like a damn on the brink of breaking, little sprinkles of water filled with memories drip down the concrete walls that you've built up in your mind, wetting the cement and changing its color to a much darker one. Each one leaves it's trail of pain as it goes down to join the pool waiting for it at the bottom of the dam.

At any given moment it could break, letting lose a flood that would surly overflow and destroy everything in its wake. 

That's where your mind was right now. 

Trying it's best to hold off all the memories, just long enough to do the task at hand.

It was threatening to devastate you, to overtake you, but you held it back.  It was working so far, but barely . You needed to get the job done.

Pulling the packing tape over the box that you had been filling with pictures and nick nacks  that once lined the living room walls, you placed it with the others. 

"Last one" you tell yourself, stacking it with the others that lined the wall.

Standing back, you take a look around the room. The carpet still showed indents of the furniture  that stood there for so many years, but were now gone.

If you looked hard enough you could see the square outlines where pictures, and a clock once hung on the wall, permanently marking their spot over the span of time that it was there.

Shaking back the ache in your chest, you walk room to room in your parents small little house, making sure there is nothing left to box up. Nothing remaining that would be left behind.

As you slip from room to room  the silence feels deafening. The atmosphere was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. 

You blink hard to hold back the tears that threaten to fall down your face. In your mind you know this was the last time you'd ever walk down this hall.  You thought back to the millions of trips you'd made as a child, and throughout your adult life.

You should have treasured it more. 

The sound of the TV playing Jeopardy in the living room, the smell of that morning's breakfast, or whatever meal was being prepared to be served; the sound of your mother singing to herself old gospel hymns as you got closer to the kitchen.

You would have stopped and just enjoyed the things that you once thought were mundane. The things you took for granted. 

Now they were the things you missed the most.

Walking into the kitchen, the table was no longer there, and the room stood empty of everything that wasn’t an appliance of some sort. 

It was once the life of this old house. Where your mother and her friends would gather with their coffee cups, and little cakes that your mother would bake, laughing and gossiping away.

It was just silence and emptiness now. 

Nothing. 

It was like this house itself had died along with your parents. There was a light gone from it that nothing could ever replace. Nothing could ever revive. It was permanent.

"Ms. Y/L/N?” Pastor Burton is waiting outside in the SUV. “Whenever you're ready to leave." said the young assistant pastor. Everyone jokingly called him Peewee  since he had such a striking resemblance to Peewee Herman.

"I'll be ready in just a moment Bro. Charles. Ask him to allow me to turn off everything, and lock it up for the movers tomorrow, and I'll meet the two of you there."

With that, he only nods and turns to go. 

This was such a difficult situation that no one really was wanting to push you, or make you feel like you were being rushed. That you were thankful for. This wasn't how all this was supposed to happen, but here you are. Now you just have to deal with it.

"Bro. Charles?" you call out, just as the young man's foot hits the landing leading to the front door of your childhood home. 

"Yes?"

"Is he here? In Dallas?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

All the emotions you had been holding back since you followed the black caskets of your mother and father out of your family church were threatening to spill over, the dam more than ready to break. Still you held them back.

"He's waiting at the church with his father. He said to take your time. He knows this is difficult for you."

You just nod your head, your heart in your throat. Charles leaves you to your thoughts as you begin to turn the remaining lights off in the house.

It was arranged long before you were born. When you were just a child, he married her. 

Now, just in time it seems, he's returned home and said he's ready to take his place as your husband; like was intended all those years ago, less than 24 hours after your mother and father passed away in a horrible car accident. 

Leaving you alone.

"It's the Lord's way of fixing things. He sent Jensen home for you just when he knew you'd need him." Pastor Burton had told you.

This isn't the way you'd pictured your wedding day. Not with this much grief and pain. It felt more like a funeral all over again. 

The death of your freedom. To be given completely over to a rich man that you didn't even know.A man that was meant to be your husband, but turned his back on you all those years ago. Now he was back to claim you as his own. 

There was nothing you could do to stop it, and honestly where the hell would you go? You had nothing and no one left. Just Jensen, the man that in less than two hours would be your husband, not only in the law of the state of Texas, but also in the eyes of God.

Closing the door to your childhood home, you lock it. Standing in the pouring Texas spring rain, you  press your forehead against the door of your childhood home one last time.

"Goodbye Mom, goodbye Dad." you whisper as you push yourself off the door, your heart tearing into two pieces. 

A part going with you, a part staying there on the doorstep.

You make your first steps toward the unknown, and the black SUV that waits for you just beyond your driveway.

"This is it. There's no turning back now."

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

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[whatdoesshedotothem]

Sunday 13 April 1834: SH:7/ML/E/17/0019

7 50

12 55

Fine morning F49 ½° at 8 50 about which hour breakfast – read yesterday’s papers till 11 1/4 then writing out journal – read the short prayers in 35 minutes to my aunt and Oddy at 11 55, and then sermon (or lecture) 3 Volume I Mr Knight in ¼ hour – at my desk at 1 ½ and finished writing our journal up to so far of today till 2 1/4  - Thomas brought a letter from Miss W-, 3 pages and 1st page crossed - Rather disappointed at my not going till Tuesday - if entirely on her account, will be ready by 2pm or before tomorrow - wants me to set off ½ hour earlier than the time proposed to see Dr Belcombe. Her cousin not  come I have not felt quite comme il faut without either much liking or being able to explain to him how I very charitably want you to bear the burden of doing it for me. Doesn’t suppose she will be prevented returning with me but Dr B- may will to try change of medicine and if I am detained a day not to let them be anxious about us here – not to expect us later at latest than ten. Poor girl I fear how it is and when she complained of enlargement this day week and uncomfortableness in walking it was that something coming on which I have unfortunately given her and which π- gave me in 1822 and which she would only laugh to think I had given poor Miss W- as she did on my giving it to Isabella  well this will indeed set me against π- I shall say nothing but never never go near her again indeed without this added bar between my faith to Miss W- would have been enough this punishment is come to qualify my happiness and I deserve it why had I anything to do with π- when another man’s wife  she had been bane enough to me. Writing the above till 2 ¼ pm and from then to 5 40 wrote 3 pages and ends to M- and 2 pages to Miss W- - ‘Shibden Hall Sunday evening 13 April 1834. Your letter, my dearest Mary, of Monday made as deep an impression upon me as I am sure you must have thought it would. I have read it again and again, and quite believe that I shall not slip too soon, and too entirely from the remembrance of our whole regard I have held so long - why should I ? Our respective duties, those which you have incurred before me and without me, and those which I have incurred more recently but more advisedly, demand no new sacrifices on either part. Let each of us do all that remains in our power towards the happiness of each other and let the world only have it to say, that friendship must be true which bears so well the test of heaped-up years and changeful circumstances. Mary! Since the past can’t be recalled, let us both try to make the best we can of the future - we have had experience enough – it is our own fault if we do not profit by it – we make our own fortune, Predestinarianism is absurd. Are we responsible agents? (What Christian dares deny it?) Then we are free ones; afor God can’t be unjust. Let us not lose ourselves in subtleties and sophistries, there is one straight forward path of right and it is only in swerving from it, to this side or that, we become entangled. Cheer up Mary! The prospect is brighter than you think – we were both unhappy while we were both uncertain. Do you not remember telling me that the 3 most unhappy people you know, were those (you know to whom I allude) who had every earthly reason to be most otherwise? At least one of the 3, naturally contended and cheerful, could have given some reason for the extraordinary fact you mentioned. I saw, while yet it was afar off, the little curl upon the wave that betokened the coming storm. I warned you from the 1st, yet every eye saw better than your own. I have often told you, your blindness was unconceivable - the trouble came and the end of it could only be what it is - the little bark that held my hopes was wrecked. But sigh nor for me -  the hand of Providence was by and I am safe – my only anxiety is for you. I have none for myself . Thank God! I know not that I have need of any - but I shall still watch over your happiness with more affectionate solicitude than you think – ‘the heart that has truly loved never forgets’ and you will always find me a friend, whose sincerity you may trust. Regret not the past. Be thankful, and be assured that heaven has ordered all things well. I hope you will find me a great and safe and lasting comfort. I am conscious of no feeling with which you on yours can find fault. I hope we shall all meet by and by and that the individual happiness of each will only add to the common stock. Mary! You may live to do a world of good to me and to us all. I will see you in the summer if I can, but I dare not count upon it for the state of my aunt’s health as well as other circumstances may put it out of my power.  Announcement to M- respecting Miss W-  

I can’t be quite so much under my own control, as formerly -  my days of solitude are surely drawing to a close. I am going to York on Tuesday – at any rate we shall be at  home on the latter  day to a late dinner. My father, aunt and sister are so well satisfied that all Shibden disagreeableness are smoothed away as much as possible. Marian has really taken me by surprise I had certainly no right to calculate upon her being half so kindly accommodating. My father’s life seems more and more uncertain and my aunt’s state of extreme suffering can’t be supported forever. But she rallies extraordinary every now and then. I suppose your friends are not yet on the other side of water. Heaven prospers all you schemes of heart and happiness and mental improvement. I am glad Miss Cholmly is in your neighbourhood, it was very good of her to beg to be remembered to me. Do pray give my remembrance in return. I saw her to get advantage last summer and thought of her more than once afterwards. Her being an old friend of yours was nothing against her. I often thought, I should like to see Emma Strickland again - I did not see much of Mrs Milne in York, but thought her looking thin, and anxious. I suppose Hamlyn was off on Monday, and that Mrs Milne would return with Charlotte to Langton. But no more - my own mind is not perhaps less than yours astray from chit chat.  God bless you my dearest Mary, you will find my regard affectionate and steady and especially yours. A. Lister.’

To Miss W- said grieved over having put off going till Tuesday - my first impulse was to go tomorrow, or, to do quite as I liked this evening, but after thinking about all the afternoon saw it would be better to keep to Tuesday now it had been fixed – she would understand all this on coming here or on seeing me. ‘But your account of yourself puzzles me. However not a word more just now’. Very impatient to see her - the time will seem an age – will see Dr Belcombe – he to be at Heworth Grange at one or 12 ½ - do not see what can prevent her returning with me ‘but we will be guided by Dr Belcombe. I can be patient, or wait, or do anything for your health’.......’I cannot tell what to think’.... ‘I shall not write much more. I am too impatient etc. I do not pretend to care nothing at all about you..... I should be off this evening if I did as I liked. Don’t go beyond the garden on Tuesday morning. Ever my dearest faithfully and affectionately yours. A. Lister’. Dinner at 6 – coffee in an hour – having Marian with me the whole time. From 7 5 to 7 ¾ wrote all but the first 4 lines of this page and sent off by Thomas my letter to ‘Miss Walker Heworth Grange York’ and my letter to ‘Mrs Lawton, Claremont House, Leamington, Warwickshire’. Musing over my letter till 8 ¾ then with my aunt till 10. Read papers – very fine day – F55° at 12 ¼ tonight

[wasalwaysagreatpickle]

Sunday 13 April 1834

7 50/..

12 55/..

Fine morning Fahrenheit 49 1/2˚ at 8 50/.. at which hour breakfast – read yesterday’s paper till 11 1/4 then writing out journal – Read the short prayers to my aunt and Oddy at 11 55/.., and then sermon (or lecture) 3 volume 1 Mr Knight in 1/4 hour – 

At my desk at 1 1/2 and finished writing out journal up to so far of today till 2 1/4 – Thomas brought letter from Miss Walker – 3 pages and 1st page crossed – Rather disappointed at my not going till Tuesday – if entirely on her account, will be ready by 2 p.m. or before tomorrow – wants me to set off 1/2 hour earlier than the time proposed to see Dr Belcombe 

Her cousin not come. I have not felt quite comme il faut without either much liking or being able to explain to him how I very charitably want you to bear the burden of doing it for me – 

Does not suppose she will be prevented returning with me but Dr Belcombe may wish to try change of medicine and if I am detained a day not to let them be anxious about us here – not to expect us later, at latest, than ten – 

Poor girl I fear how it is and when she complained of enlargement this day week and uncomfortableness in walking it was that something coming in which I have unfortunately given her and which [Pi- Mariana] gave me in 18 hundred and twenty two and which she would only laugh to think I had given poor Miss Walker, as she did on my giving it to Isabella. Well this will indeed set me against [Pi – Mariana] I shall say nothing but never never go near her again indeed without this added bar between my faith to Miss Walker would have been enough this punishment is come to qualify my happiness and I deserve it why had I anything to do with [Pi – Mariana] when another mans wife she has been bane enough to me – 

Writing the above till 2 1/4 p.m. and from then to 5 40/.. wrote 3 pages and ends to Mariana and 2 pages to Miss Walker, ‘Shibden Hall, Sunday evening 13 April 1834. ‘Your letter my dearest Mary, of Monday made as deep an impression upon me as I am sure you must have thought it would – I have read it again and again, and quite believe that I shall not slip too soon, and too entirely from the remembrance of one whose regard I have held so long – why should I? Our respective duties, those which you have incurred before me and without me, and those which I have incurred more recently but more advisedly, demand no new sacrifices on either part – Let each of us do all that remains in our power towards the happiness of each other, and let the world only have it to say, that friendship must be true which bears so well the test of heaped-up years, and changeful circumstance –

Mary! Since the past cannot be recalled, let us both try to make the best we can of the future – we have had experience enough – it is our own fault if we do not profit by it – we make our own fortune – Predestinarianism is absurd – Are we responsible agents? (what Christian dares deny it?) then we are free ones; for god cannot be unjust – Let us not lose ourselves in subtleties and sophistries – there is one straight forward path of right; and it is only in swerving from it, to this side or that, we become entangled – cheer up, Mary – The prospect is brighter than you think – we were both unhappy while we were both uncertain – Do you not remember telling me, the 3 most unhappy people you knew, were those (you know to whom I allude) who had every earthly reason to be most otherwise? at least one of the 3, naturally contented and cheerful, could have given some reason for the extraordinary fact you mentioned – 

I saw, while yet it was afar off, the little curl upon the wave that betokened the coming storm – I warned you from the 1st, yet every eye saw better than your own – I have often told you, your blindness was inconceivable – the trouble came; and the end of it could only be what it is – the little [basket] that held my hopes, was wrecked – But sigh not for me – The hand of Providence was by; and I am safe – my only anxiety is for you – I have none for myself – Thank God! I know not that I have need of any – but I shall still watch over your happiness with more affectionate solicitude than you think – ‘the heart that has truly loved never forgets’; and you will always find me a friend whose sincerity you may trust – 

Regret not the past – Be thankful, and be assured that heaven has ordered all things well – I hope you will find me a great, and safe, and lasting comfort – I am conscious of no feeling with which you or yours can find fault – I hope we shall all meet by and by, and that the individual happiness of each will only add to the common stock – Mary! you may live to do a world of good to me, and to us all – I will see you in the summer if I can; but I dare not count upon it; for the state of my aunt’s health, as well as other circumstances may put it out of my power – I cannot be quite so much under my own control as formerly – my days of solitude are surely drawing to a close – I am going to York Tuesday – at any rate, we shall be at home on the latter day to a late dinner – my father, and aunt, and sister, are so well satisfied, that all Shibden disagreeables are smoothed away as much as possible – Marian has really taken me by surprise – I had certainly no right to calculate upon her being half so kindly accommodating – my father’s life seems more and more uncertain; and my aunt’s state extreme suffering cannot be supported forever – But she rallies extraordinarily every now and then –

I suppose your friends are not yet on the other side of the water – Heaven prosper all your schemes of heart, and happiness, and mental improvement! I am glad Miss Cholmley is in your neighbourhood – It was very good of her to beg to be remembered to me – Do pray give my remembrance in return – I saw her to great advantage last summer, and thought of her more than once afterwards – Her being an old friend of yours, was nothing against her – I often thought, I should like to see Emma Strickland again – I did not see much of Mrs Milne in York, but thought her looking thin, and anxious – I suppose Hamlyn was off on Monday, and that Mrs Milne would return with Charlotte to Langton – But no more – my own mind is not perhaps less than theirs astray from chit chat – 

God bless you, my dearest Mary! You will find my regard affectionate and steady, and will still, I trust, live to acknowledge that, both for your happiness and my own, I have done right – Ever very especially yours AL’ 

To Miss Walker said I grieved over having put off going till Tuesday – my 1st impulse was to go tomorrow, or, to do quite as I liked this evening, but after thinking about all the afternoon, saw it would be better to keep to Tuesday now it had been fixed – she would understand all this on coming here, or on seeing me – ‘But your account of yourself puzzles me – However, not a word more just now’ – very impatient to see her – the time will seem an age – will see Dr Belcombe – he to be at Heworth Grange at one – or 12 1/2 – do not see what can prevent her returning with me ‘but we will be guided by Dr Belcombe – I can be patient, or wait, or do anything for your health’……’I cannot tell what to think’ … ‘I shall not write much more – I am too impatient etc. etc. etc. I do not pretend to care nothing at all about you….I should be off this evening if I did as I liked – Don’t go beyond the garden on Tuesday morning – Ever my dearest faithfully and affectionately yours AL’ 

Dinner at 6 and coffee in an hour having Marian with me all the while – from 7 5/.. to 7 3/4 wrote all but the 1st 4 lines of this page and sent off by Thomas my letter to ‘Miss Walker, Heworth Grange, York’ and my letter to ‘Mrs Lawton, Claremont House, Leamington, Warwickshire’ 

Musing over my letter till 8 3/4 – then with my aunt till 10 – read the paper, very fine day – Fahrenheit 55˚ at 12 1/4 tonight –

[bubblegumholland]

A Deal With The Devil (KOH! Tom Holland X Reader)

Praying to God wasn’t working

So I made a deal with the Devil

The heart monitor beeped to a steady rhythm. Y/N bat the tears from her eyelashes as she stared at the dying girl. Her darling sister was only eight, and at this rate she wouldn’t live to nine. Y/N clenched her eyes shut, failing at keeping the tears at bay. She knelt at the hospital bedside and clasped her hands together.

“Please, God, please… I’d do anything for her, please help her, heal her..” She repeated over and over. Y/N opened her eyes to see no difference in her sister’s condition. She bowed her head in frustration, “I knew it wouldn’t work…”

She bit her lip and looked down. She paused for a moment more.

“Help me… Please, I’ll do anything, I promise, anything.”

And suddenly her vision went black.

_____

“I heard you’d do anything, darling.” 

A dashingly handsome man laughed at the shocked girl. He stood about 5′8 with startling black iris’ and deep chocolate colored hair. 

“What’s the matter, darling? ‘ thought you wanted to make a deal with the devil.” Y/N stared at the gorgeous demon, she had a hard time believing this was real. 

“Where am I?” She looked around, the land was cold and bare, definitely not what she expected Hell to look like. 

“This isn’t Hell,” Satan stated, as if he could read her mind. Could he? She looked at him, “it isn’t?” 

The charming devil shook his head, “Welcome to Purgatory. We’re between the land of the living and death.” 

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Am I dead?” The devil laughed, “not yet you aren’t.” “So, I’m dying?” she stared at the attractive man with a British accent.

“Well, technically everyone’s dying,” he answered patiently. “But you want to save your sister and that comes with a price.”  Y/N bit her lip, “So, what’s the price?” 

Satan smiled, clearly delighted. “One of my favorite myths is The Legend of the Infinity Stones. There were six but that’s not important  But one was called the Soul Stone, the trade for it was a soul. A soul for a soul. And that is what I want from you. Agree to die and accompany me in Hell, and I will save your sister.”

She thought for a moment, she would accept the deal in a heartbeat normally, but this was Satan. “How can I trust you? If I’m offering my soul up for ultimate damnation I need to trust you.” He stepped closer to her. “Smart. But the only way for me to prove myself is for you to have faith in me. And with your dear sister’s condition I’m not sure you have a choice. Time is not on your side.”

She cursed quietly, he had a point. “What does giving you my soul entail? Do I just wake up in the fields of punishment?” She questioned. He thought for a moment, “Normally, yes. But, in this case I have something else in mind. I need a queen. Someone to balance out my decisions and help me rule. You would be living the most lavish life a woman can in Hell.”

“Why my? Don’t dozens of people offer their souls to you?”

He nodded, “You’re not wrong, darling, but out of the thousands who have done that no one has ever done it for a non-selfish reason. I like the way you think and you morals aren’t shit. Now, what do you say?” He produced a contract out of thin air. 

Your parents always tell you not to take candy from strangers and here she was standing here about to sell her soul to the devil. “Deal,” she grabbed the pen and scribbled her name on the dotted line. 

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

And her vision darkened once more. 

____

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open. She was in a dark-ish room with red hues. Ah, yes. This is more like the Hell she imagined. Her attention was drawn to the door being thrown open. In walked in her husband (?). His coffee colored hair slicked back to perfection. His body adorned in an all black suit. He looked pretty hot. Not that she’d admit that, She glanced down to see she was wearing red silk pj’s. A nightgown that was considerably scandalous but by her means, pretty cute. She awkwardly held the blanket over her to shield her mostly-exposed body from Satan’s wandering eyes. Y/N cleared her throat, gaining his attention.

 “Hi..?” she spoke softly. He smiled and sat on the end of the bed, “Good morning, darling. What’ d’ya think?” He gestured to the room. She nodded, “It’s uh... nice. Real homey.” He laughed a little, “Well, I would hope so. This is your home now, after all.”

“Didn’t sarcasm originate in Hell?” She deadpanned. 

Satan laughed heartily, “Fair point, love.” 

“So, are we like...married?” Y/N questioned delicately. 

The demon was silent for a moment, “I suppose so, you are in my bed after all.” She jumped to her feet, forgetting the duvet that covered her exposed skin. 

“Fair point,” she repeated his words. “Um.. can I get some clothes?” She gestured to her cleavage. He laughed once more, it was a surprisingly delightful sound, no where near as malicious and evil as one would expect. “Sure, darling, although I much prefer the cloth you are sporting now.” He snapped his pale fingers and a pile of clothes appeared on the bed. Y/N rummaged through it, carefully not bending over in front of her new beau. She pulled out black skinny jeans, and a red blouse. “Y’know red is my favorite color,” She stated as she pulled of her nightgown, being left in only a bra and panties. “Funny coincidence, Y/N, so is mine.” She rolled her eyes, “Never would’ve guessed.” As she pointed at everything in the room. He smirked at her response, “I like you,” she raised an eyebrow playfully and went up to touch his chest with both her hands. “Well, given that you offered me the position of wife instead of eternally damned soul, I figured.” He leaned in, almost like he was going to kiss her, but she stepped back with the following words. “How’s my sister?” He licked his bottom lip before answering, “part of deal is that you can’t talk to her... Or see her.” Your E/C eyes widened, “Why didn’t you tell me that!” she yelled at him storming across the room. “It was on the contract, darling. Not my fault if you didn’t read it.” 

Her breathing became heavy and labored. “Oh, my God...” 

“Who taught you to not read the contract when you make a deal with the devil?”

“I didn’t know that this was even real!” She didn’t even notice the tears on her face until she tasted them on her tongue. 

“Any regrets?” He asked. 

She shook her head in disbelief, “Can you at least tell me if she’s alive? And going to live?” 

“Fine, yes she is well. She will live to be 83 before she dies peacefully in her sleep. Happy?” His face was neutral, didn’t seem to care or not care. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

“Are you hungry?” He asked.

She shook her head, “No, I think I’m just gonna go back to bed..” 

He nodded, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Then let’s go to bed.”

_____

According to traditional Christian belief about witchcraft, the pact is between a person and Satan or a lesser demon. The person offers their soul in exchange for diabolical favors. Those favors vary by the tale, but tend to include youth, knowledge, wealth, fame, or power.

A/N Hey! First part “Deal with the Devil” is completed! This will be a 3 part series and I’m really excited. New chapter will hopefully be up this week but don’t hold your breath. DM me if you wanna be added to the taglist. 

TAGLIST 

@loxbbg  @saxgirl21  @peterbrokenparker 

[tremble-and-shake]

Ficlet for “Church girl” anon

Like I said previously, this is just a short lead-up, nothing fancy. It’s NSFW but not really smut.  That dear anon asked me enough times (and kindly) that eventually dialogue for this started to come together in my head and I found it really hot. Still, I acknowledge that this is super cheesy and unbelievable.  Not knocking Christians or Catholics of anything (I grew up going under Catholic pretenses, but it just wasn’t for me and I got the fuck out). The storyline is just a classic, cliché turn on.

I’m calling it The Tempest of Lustful Shades after the vortex in the Second Circle of Hell in Dante’s Inferno. That’s where people go for lustful sins, and that’s where I feel like I’m going to end up writing this shit lmao  Anyway, maybe some of you will be there with me for enjoying it. I hope so. Thanks @starchild0985 for taking a peek and offering feedback <333

The Tempest of Lustful Shades

You were finishing up your undergraduate degree in Art History at St. Mary’s in London. The uni had a partnership with Tate Modern, the art gallery collective that Jimmy had recently loaned tapestries to for their Edward Burne-Jones exhibition.  And now, somehow, you were sitting in Jimmy’s parlor, sipping tea and chatting with him about your undergraduate thesis on the intersection between medievalism and Victorian ideals of womanhood in the Pre-Raphaelite movement.

“Above all else, Pre-Raphaelitism espoused naturalism, even when this risked showing ugliness. But that’s the true irony of it, isn’t it?” You nodded along, beaming at his words. “Look at what beauty they were able to create by embracing the fidelity of human appearance.”

It wasn’t too often you came across men who could carry on such a cerebral conversation on this topic while maintaining this level of passion.  It was even rarer to come across ones this attractive.  

“Let me refill your tea, love,” he said, placing his own cup down and taking the ceramic handle of the teapot.  Admiring the hand-painted Moroccan lattice, you wondered how lavish it must to have a home where everything within it, down to the teapot and silverware, was an authentic piece of history.

“So, what’s a young lady as brilliant, passionate, and beautiful as you are doing still single?”

Shifting your weight from one leg to the other, you stifled a timid laugh.

He sensed your uneasiness, offering a consolation in the soft lines that cradled his lips and eyes. “Too immersed in your studies at the moment, I presume.”

“That’s my priority, yes.” Engulfed in his warmth and this momentary comfort, you surprised yourself by opening to him. “But a lot of guys my age aren’t willing to, you know, wait for a Catholic girl.  Not even the ones at uni.”

Something flashed quickly in his eyes like a response to some subconscious trigger, and you realized what you had implied.

“No.  I didn’t mean, that’s not-” Your startled movements caused your tea to careen over the lip of the cup, sending you to your feet to escape the hot Darjeeling. “Ow, shit, that’s hot!”

He was on his feet beside you almost instantly, removing the cup and taking your hands inside his.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m so sorry. Jimmy, I got tea on the throw.”  You tried to pull away and daub the spill, but he wouldn’t let you.  

“Darling, don’t worry, it’s quite alright.  You’re not burned, are you?  How embarrassing to serve guests tea that’s scalding.”

“No, no, I’m fine.  It wasn’t that hot, it just startled me.”

“Let me get something to dry your blouse.”  

You cursed yourself for being so foolish, but silenced the self-berating in time for him to reenter the room, dinner napkin in hand.

“Here we are.” He began to blot along the hem your blouse, pulling the fabric off your skin. “May I?” You nodded, but it wasn't until you felt his fingers graze against your stomach that you realized what he was asking: to reach under your blouse in order absorb the stain from both sides of the fabric.

“Jimmy, I don’t know why I said that. TMI, I’m sorry.”  You're surprised by how soft his fingers feel against you. “But just so you know.. I’m- I’m not.”

“Not what, love?” He broke his focus from the stain.  When his eyes found yours, he seemed to genuinely be unsure of what you were saying.  

“A.. a virgin.” That look again: the calloused, wanton glazing of his eyes. But fleeting and nearly impossible to recall once it’s gone. “I mean, I’ve only done it once.  It was stupid, he was stupid.  But I've done my penance and have been forgiven.”

"Hmm, I think that should do it, yes?"

"W- well, yes," you proceeded shakily but found confidence through the verse. "As it says in the Bible, 'If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.'"

He took a step back and tugged down at the hem of your blouse. "I was talking about the Darjeeling, love. And you needn't offer an explanation, I'm not judging you in the least. Shall we go on?"

"I'm so embarrassed, I think maybe I better go. I talk too much when I'm nervous and I've already--"

"Don't be silly. My apologies if I've said or done anything to make you feel uncomfortable but it would be a shame for you to leave without seeing the artwork. Come," he motioned for you to follow him, his smile warm and inviting.

He lead you through the hall and into the study. You remained pace or two behind, trying to steady yourself in this whirlwind of lustful thoughts and conflicting emotions.

As you entered the room, you struggled to keep your focus on the awe-inspiring paintings. He saw this and  his dark brows became unsettled.

"It's just that I haven't felt this way before. Not even that first time,” your restless fingers searched for composure at the hem of your blouse. “I’ve never wanted someone so badly.”

His chin lifted and his gaze sharpened; he was eyeing you up as if assessing the honesty of your statement. “I see,” he lowered his chin slightly. “You’re here for academic research. I hardly think it’s appropriate. Do you?”

“Well, I guess not,” your gaze falls downward, disappointed.

“And what about your vow of abstinence? How do these thoughts make you feel?”

“Shameful,” you reply delicately. “Dirty.”

He smirked  “We haven’t even done anything dirty yet, love. Imagine how you’d feel afterward.”  Closing the space between you, he went on. “But it is the forbidden fruit that tastes the sweetest.”

“Let me taste it,” your tone was meek, but your hands spoke more strongly as they traipsed below his belt.

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” His fingers lifted your chin firmly, forcing you to surrender into his eyes. They were the seductive pinnacle on a face so seasoned and sophisticated.

“You may no longer be a virgin in the eyes of God, but as far as I’m concerned you might as well be. I'm going to have to go gently with you."

You swallowed sharply. Nervous, but overruled by the strong ache growing between your thighs. You'd never been so wet that your panties actually became damp like this.

"But I assure you that you're going to feel filthy all the same.  Is that really what you want?" His fingertips skimmed your lips, finding a place to come to rest.  "Show me.” He tugged gently at your lips and you knew what he wanted, so you welcomed them in and sucked gently.

“Good girl.”  His smile brought a dramatic softness to his face. And yet somehow it still commanded a subservience you were eager to give. “You know you’re going to have to go to mass tomorrow to confess this dirty secret.  Then you’ll pray on the rosary for hours before you find absolution.” You nodded and moaned for him, still caressing two of his long fingers with your tongue.

“I wonder, how many Our Fathers or Acts of Contrition will you have to say in reparation for sucking the cock of a man old enough to be your father, or grandfather even?  Don’t answer with your mouth full, love. It’s poor manners.”   He removed his fingers and gently pressed on your shoulders, encouraging you to your knees.  

“I suppose you could just tell me next week when you come here again, no use in supposition. But I do know one thing: anytime you kneel again, you’ll be thinking of us. In the church pew, besides your bed for nightly prayers, wherever. And you’ll be wet when you do.”

[svartalfhild]

Insidious

Rating: T Genre: Supernatural, Horror Words: 1,018 Summary: A teenaged girl commits arson and patricide and takes a bus to get away from it all. Warning(s): vague discussion of arson, murder, demons, and domestic violence A/N: This is part of the backstory of @tsunderin’s character, Olivia, from the Monsterhearts game she and I are in. - - - Olivia Bennett was a killer and she was fine with that.  Her life was never going anywhere good, but now she had taken control and made hell her comfort instead of her fear.  This was perhaps a more literal sentiment than one might expect.

You see, Olivia had murdered her father, a very religious and respected member of the community.  Edward Bennett was everything you would expect a staunchly Christian white man in a position of power to be.  He had been neither a good husband nor a good father, despite his preaching of family values.  In fact, he had driven his wife, Ye-Rin Na, to divorce and had abused their daughter emotionally and physically.  He was by no means a good man.

All her life, Olivia had had the fear of God beaten into her and been told that if she made one misstep, she’d go straight to Hell.  Well, Hell had finally come to answer her prayers when God had sat back and done nothing.  The demon lord Asmodeus himself had come to save her, whispering promises of salvation in her ear.  All he had asked for in return was her loyalty and her faith and she had given it without question, burning her past to the ground.

And now here Olivia was, free of her father and getting on a bus that would take her all the way to the airport in Chicago, where she would then get on a plane to California to live with her mother like she should have been all these years.  She was happy, well and truly happy, and she had Asmodeus to thank for that.

They had a bond now.  She could feel it, like an ever present seed of warmth in her chest, and it was comforting.  No matter where she was, she knew that she would always have him there with her, ready to have her back.  She smiled a little to herself as she rested her head against the window next to her on the bus and felt the heat of the sun beating down on her face through the glass.

“Is it alright if I have a seat with you, young miss?”  Olivia was pulled from her rumination by the voice of a heavyset woman of about 60 or so.  The lady wore a white and pink floral dress with a matching sunhat adorning her neatly composed dark grey curls.  It reminded Olivia of the old women she would see in church every Sunday.  Despite the unpleasantness that thought dredged up, her need to be polite won out.

“Of course,” she replied, almost too softly to hear in her nervousness.  The wild and paranoid part of her imagination wondered for a moment if this person was really an undercover cop come to bust her for her patricide, but those fears were quickly assuaged.

“Thank you, hun.”  The woman gave a big smile and sat down, placing her enormous handbag on her lap.  “I didn’t want to leave it up to chance that some crusty old man would sit down with you, especially being so young as you are.  You know how men be sometimes.”  The woman made a dismissive hand gesture that seemed to convey the notion that she had experienced a fair few gross men in her time and was completely done with the whole thing.

“Yeah...yeah, I do.”  Olivia absently rubbed her arm, where she could still feel the fading bruises of the last time her father had laid hands on her.  “That’s awfully kind of you, ma’am.”

“Oh well now, us ladies gotta look out for each other, don’t we?”

“Yeah.”  Olivia smiled a little again and much of her apprehension about this woman melted away, letting her get back to the warm feelings of leaving behind Trystenhollow and all the pain and misery it represented.  

The bus roared to life and began to roll out of the station and as it made its way out of town, Olivia felt a weight lift from her chest.  It was as if she was escaping any chance of being held accountable for what she’d done.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where you headed off to?”  Her neighbouring passenger interrupted her thoughts again and she took a few steadying breaths before answering.

“I’m going to live with my mom in San Francisco.”

“She a better parent than your dad, then?”

“I hope so.  I don’t know.  It’s been a long time.”  Oh god, what if her mom didn’t want her?  What if she turned out to be just as bad as her dad?  A wave of nausea came over Olivia with these thoughts that she was barely able to push back down.

“Off to live with a lady you ain’t really know, all by yourself on a long trip.  You a brave girl, hun.”  Olivia didn’t know what to say to that, to being hailed as brave when she was so unused to such compliments, so she tried to change the subject.

“What, uh, what about you?”

“Oh, I’m going to a friend’s wedding in Chicago.  Took her thirty years, but she finally found somebody who ain’t garbage.  Let’s hope it sticks this time, ‘cause if this one turns out to be just as much a tire fire as the last three, I’mma have some things to say...”

Olivia spent the entirety of her bus ride listening to this woman talk about the full history of her friend’s poorly navigated love life and how the Lord was testing her.  This was okay, though.  It meant that Olivia didn’t have to talk.  She could just listen and nod at appropriate moments.  She didn’t have to worry about being asked too many questions about herself.  She even forgot about her own situation for a little while until she finally got off the bus at the airport.

As Olivia popped up the handle of her suitcase and looked back at where she’d come from, she knew in her heart that she’d return some day, when Asmodeus had decided that she was ready to finish what they’d started.

[gapimnydiaries]

Diary Entry #24: My experience being queer Asian American with disability

Dear Diary,

It first started when I was a child. Family is traditional and strict. Such as comparing their children to others, expect them get good grades, earn high income, give money for parents to spend, get marry early, and produce children. This is what Asian families all want. Being raised in a Western world brings many cultural conflict. For me, I was raised in New York and adopt most Western culture. Hard to let Asians parents understand what is true love and what is the truth of life. My parents are uneducated and parenting is poor. They kept abusing and neglecting me since toddlerhood. This caused me have disabilities. Such as stutter, learning disability, anxiety, and low self-esteem. During all these years, I have trouble letting people understand my speech. Moreover, have social anxiety because few of talking to people.

When I was a child, some of my relatives often fool around with me. Once, my cousin wants to play game with me so we played fighting. Then, things got weird. Such as undressing me and touched me. That time, I didn’t know what this is. Next, nothing else happens. However, this happen multiple times. Having another cousin touch me body-to-body and some family members touching my private part. That time, my mind was fuzzy. Don’t know what happen until I know after growing up.

Years later, still have no loyal friends with me. Many just talk to me during school and play sports together. I just go to school and return home; then do my homework and sleep. This cycle repeatedly occur for years. However, I became very lonely because lack of true love from friends and family. Teachers lost trust on me for not doing well. They thought I’m Asian so should be smart but we are the same as others. In addition, I dislike many random students at the cafeteria kept coming to me asking how to solve their math problems. That time, my mind feel shame because I didn’t know the answer. This is stereotype for thinking every Asian knows math. To be honest, not every Asian is smart or talent. Probably, the Asians they saw on TV; were picked actors or famous people.

As my depression and anxiety gets worse, I have no ways to recover. Nobody would come near me. So I stay in front of computers every day. Watching shows and playing games to reduce down stress. One day, browsed a video with muscular male models. That time, my heart has a strong love beat. Those models entertained me. After keep searching, end up into a porn website. That time, watched those videos for hours losing conscious on time. This continue for months. Later on, mind became aware of my own body so I began touching myself. Understand the human body. For porn, watched many anime straight videos. Then, the male body attracted me the most.

Years later, the videos brought me into gay porn. During high school, bought some DVDs to store and watch. My dad also does this and he is straight. One day, my mom found the DVDs while cleaning my house. She was surprised. Then, she keeps asking me whether I’m “gay”. She said she will die if I am because she expects me date a girl to produce children with no HIV. My family was not educated so they are many things they didn’t know. Even I do tell them, they will not listen because they think their way is right. Kind of like spoiled parents. Next, I kept saying I’m “Straight”. After that, I throw away everything involves gay. This made me missed those stuff. From that time, I start to watch normal contents. Full of women and funny comedies.

During college, met a classmate at my Chinese class. He is gay and dating a Chinese man from China. We talked and go home together for months. He said “We could have been together if I was not dating someone.” This sounds he likes me. But I did not like him. Then, he kept following me by taking the bus with me. I felt annoyed and uncomfortable os him being by me. I said “stop” because the messages he sent to me is so sexual and controlling. Then, he got angered and act dramatic. He act like an actress from drama by avoiding her loved man. To be honest, I dislike dramatic people by getting too emotional and cause drama. My parents are dramatic so I dislike being with people like my parents. After that, he keeps avoiding me. I just focus on my own work and ignore him for harassing me.

Months after that classmate left, I was very stressed and depressed. I posted this on Facebook and then a random person messaged me. He is a member from my non-profit organization where we practice Buddhism. He is an inactive member. On the message, he wants to go to Spa with me. That time, I was curious why he ask go to spa with someone he doesn’t know well. That time, I accept because psychologist said I need to hang out with people. Finding supportive friends. When we went to spa, we have to strip down and go into sauna. It was my first time being naked in front of large crowd. Also, also time to spa. During spa, we went into the jacuzzi, steam room, and shower. The experience was exaggerating. While we are in jacuzzi, he wants to play game with me. Whoever couldn’t answer the question has to tickle each other. After answering few questions, we tickle each other because I answer all questions so he still wants to tickle. Then, he ask sexual question such as, “How often you masturbate?”. Later, he ask “Have you had sex with men?”. These made me wonder what is my sexual orientation.

After the game, he begins touching and squeezing my private part instead tickle. I felt uncomfortable. That time, I request to get dress and go upstairs to relax. Next, we got dress and walks upstairs to take a nap. Hours later, we went to a cozy and quiet room where people take their quiet naps. He sits close to me and touch my body. I was confounded because boys wants it but mind is uncomfortable. This is the same feeling when women were raped. From psychological research, body wants it but mind often says “no”. This made them feel unconcerned. For me, it was the same. I began touching him since he touched me. Then, I decide to tie my shorts tight so he won’t pull it down again. However, he still wants it. I just got out and try to recover my mind. During evening, we are going to leave. He goes to the restroom while I wait for him. Later, he wants me go in with him. He takes me inside a stall and pulls my pants down. Then, things got sexual. Almost had sex but I said “no”. Suddenly, people outside the stall saw us and laugh. I ran out and wash up. Later, ran downstairs; get dress and leave without him. It was the worse experience I had.

After that incident, I didn’t want to talk to him. However, he still contact me and harass me by acting he is the victim. I was too naive forgiving him by hanging out with him again. He invite me to his house and play board game. Then, said whoever lose has to strip down. Same moment, didn’t know what I’m doing. At the end, he touched me and said want to do something horny. Then, we took showers together. After shower, I said to leave because felt uncomfortable and he felt tricked. He kept acting like a victim. Weeks later, he invite me again so I give him 3rd chance; biggest mistake. We play the same same and same punishment. He lost so he was naked. At the end, he made me strip down and touch me. At time, he grab my private part and later made me come out. Body felt good but then mind is full of shame for letting him play with me. After that, I refused his other request on sex. I clean up and leave. I felt so shameful for letting him do this. Immediately, deleted his contact and off-contact him. He did this to a girl before which means he is a playboy; not looking for serious relationship.

During college, I met the same classmate last 2 years at my Chinese class. He still avoids me so I only focus on my own project. He was in my same class for 1 year. Even he does contact me to add him back, I didn’t respond. After what happen on 2016 and 2017; experience made me reject those wrong offers. I learnt my lesson from these two playboys. Same during the time at 2015, I went to a gay club. That time, family was dramatic and they argue very bad. In order to calm my stress down, I went to club and had hookup. My body wants it but mind is rejecting. Had met some guys and hookup with a guy which was a shocking experience. Fear I will get HIV. That time,I had lack of knowledge of how HIV is inject. Worries for 1 year. After testing, was so happy my result is HIV Negative.

After what happened, I took a year break. Same time, I hate those gay playboys. A year later, began to attend LGBT community to understand health and their struggles. While browsing, GAPIMNY came up. The place where gay Asians are safe to discuss their stories. After learning with them, mind gain more knowledge about Asian LGBT. Later, I attend APICHA; health centre for queer to discuss their social problems and health. After learning, I finally know how to keep myself safe and do safe sex without injecting any STDs. After so many lectures, I was ashamed for wasting my time worrying on getting HIV. Now, I would laugh at myself being so anxious.

After attending many meet ups, made new friends and safe environment to experience. Life has a fresh start. Met many kind queer friends. We hang out by attending holiday festivals. Depression and anxiety became less serious after attend many new non-profit organizations. Really thank them offering opportunity and safe space to discuss anything. Not only LGBT community; also religious community. The well-practiced religious community allows us to discuss queer topics. Furthermore, their faith is to love and bring peace. We cannot judge. There are many Christian communities who support the queer. Indeed, GAPIMNY, APICHA, and all other organizations have changed my life. Turn me from young & naive to steady person. From now on, I always observe before trusting any community or people. See if they are safe for us to be around. Many more advices received from psychologists.

Even my family is traditional, seeing me changed can let them see how good my life has become. Giving credits to the communities I’ve attend. Even today, I’m finding supportive friends because not many people want to be with me. Reasons are that I’m boring, direct, lack of knowledge on recent trends, bad memory, untalented, and not intelligent. Currently, I’m slowly learning new hobbies such as drawing, instruments, singing, dancing, and photographing. My goal is to stand up and speak out for the rights instead stay silent. This is how communities or countries kept themselves safe from someone standing up. Know what is right or wrong before speak up. For now, seeing those gay couples and muscular models; made me imagine a lovely bridge. Hope the ones who experienced similar situation as me; could find their bright side overcoming these hardships. There are a lot of stuff we have not learn. I’m also learning. After we know it, life becomes better. Not from online or opinions; from the truths.

Jason Lin

[uclaradio]

UCLA Radio’s Best of 2017 - Music and Genre Directors

This year, UCLA Radio’s music director and genre directors compiled a list of their favorite releases this past year. Take a peek and explore some of our favorite albums of this past year. 

Alison Chi - Music Director

1. SZA - Ctrl

I don’t know a single person who doesn’t like SZA’s sophomore album Ctrl. There are so few albums that can capture people’s attention these days - it’s all about the singles and never the album as a whole but something about Ctrl is cohesive from start to finish. The way each song weaves into each other is seamless and you’ll truly be rewarded if you sit down and listen to the album straight through. Is there even a single bad song on this album? 

2. Giraffage - Too Real 3. Slowdive - Slowdive 4. Turnover - Good Nature 5. Land of Talk - Life After Youth 6. Cigarettes After Sex - Cigarettes After Sex 7. Julien Baker - Turn Out the Lights 8. Valerie June - The Order of Time 9. Slow Dancer - In A Mood 10. Mount Eerie - A Crow Looked at Me

Megan Hullander - Rock Genre Director

1. King Gizzard & The Flying Wizard - Flying Microtonal Banana

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard’s Flying Microtonal Banana was the first in a series of five albums promised to be released in 2017 (one of which has still yet to come) including a concept album ridden with the drama of human and non-human emotions, a jazzy collaboration with Mild High Club, and an album given as a gift to fans - the rights of which are “owned” by all. Flying Microtonal Banana is unique in that the band customized their instruments in effort to find spaces between existing tones, or “microtones.” The album is named for one of these instruments which does, in fact, look quite similar to a banana. 

2. Thee Oh Sees - Orc 3. The Brian Jonestown Massacre - Open Minds Now Close 4. Alex Cameron - Forced Witness 5. Ron Gallo - Temporary Slave 6. Ariel Pink - Dedicated to Bobby Jameson 7. Ty Segall - Sentimental Goblin 8. ORB - Naturality 9. Kikagaku Moyo - Stone Garden 10. Courtney Barnett & Kurt Vile - Lotta Sea Lice

Gabe Cortina - Rock Genre Director

1. Limp Wrist - Facades

Featuring Martin from Los Crudos on vocals as well as members of Hail Mary, Devoid of Faith, By the Throat, and Kill the Man Who Questions, the versatility of Limp Wrist sound has never been more apparent. Identifying as queercore, the band has a fast hardcore sound and lyrical themes concerning gay identity politics. The mixing of album is something which also stood out to me, it’s able to polished without sounding over produced. Martin’s vocal style perfectly matches the killer riffs and speedy drums in both intensity and aggression. Halfway through this album, the band’s sound switches to a disco-ey almost dark-wave- techno sound which they pull of with perfection. This album is solid and I highly recommend it to both longtime fans of punk and people who are looking for an introduction to punk music alike.

2. Despise You / Coke Bust - Split LP 3. Gay Kiss - Rounded Down 4. Exit Unit - St 2017 5. Glue - S/T MLP 6. Lumpy and the Dumpers - Those Pickled Fuckers 7. Goolagoon / ACxDC - Split 8. Burnout - West Coast Tour 2017 CS 9. Sex Prisoner / Harm Done - Split 10. Meth Leppard - Discography 2015-2017

Gabe Punk Genre Director Top 10 Albums of 2017 from anon-10212970514769336 on 8tracks Radio

Alana Enriquez - Pop Genre Director

1. Beach House - B-Sides and Rarities

This compilation happened to be release on a day where I had only gotten around an hour of sleep the night before, and I cried within one minute of the first track. It’s Beach House at their most dreamy, their most blaring, their most haunting. Old tracks with new renditions and fresh ones meld into something spellbinding that doesn’t require the logistical unity of a formal album. B-Sides and Rarities has been on a weekly rotation for me for the entire second half of 2017, and probably for the entirety of 2018, unless they release something else for me to cry to during my morning routine. 

2. Florist - If Blue Could Be Happiness 3. High Bloom - Implied Sun 4. Alvvays - Antisocialites 5. The Drums - Abysmal Thoughts 6. Slowdive - Slowdive 7. Steve Lacy - Steve Lacy’s Demo 8. You’ll Never Get to Heaven - Images 9. Pedro Infante - Cien años... pensando en ti 10. Big Thief - Capacity

Alana Myers - Pop Genre Director

1. Wolf Alice - Visions Of A Life

Looking back at this past September, I remember sitting in my apartment late at night, counting down until midnight when Wolf Alice’s second record Visions of a Life would be released. I haven’t ever heard anything quite like Visions of a Life before, and I think the reason it resonates so much with me is the way it perfectly encompasses the feelings that come with the uncertainty of young adulthood, and the feelings of life in general - love, anger, sadness, extreme joy, and everything in between. The album digs itself into darkness, but at its core, lies a piece of work that is ambitious, honest, and a solid listen from start to finish.

2. MUNA - About U 3. Tei Shi - Crawl Space 4. Declan McKenna - What Do You Think About the Car? 5. Stormzy - Gang Signs & Prayer 6. Will Joseph Cook - Sweet Dreamer 7. HAIM - Something to Tell You 8. Lorde - Melodrama 9. Paramore - After Laughter 10. Circa Waves - Different Creatures

Alex Saakyan - Pop Genre Director

1. Lana Del Rey - Lust For Life

With an album cover that graces a smile, cheek to cheek of Lana Del Rey, it is no surprise as to why this record has been nicknamed as Del Rey’s first ‘happy album.’ Retiring from the ‘sad girl’ aesthetic of her previous records, Del Rey delivers an optimistic and authentic approach to her music. With tracks like ‘When the World Was at War’ and ‘God Bless America’ we see Del Rey take a more honest approach from her Americana aesthetic as she speaks of the hard times people in this country face. With tracks like ‘Get Free’ she delivers her mission statement: “Finally, I’m crossing the threshold/From the ordinary world/To the reveal of my heart,” She’s honest, she’s free, with a much optimism and a lust for life. 

2. Kendrick Lamar - DAMN. 3. Lorde - Melodrama 4. Kelela - Take Me Apart 5. Majid Jordan - The Space Between 6. Harry Styles - Harry Styles 7. Calvin Harris - Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 1 8. Tyler, the Creator - Flower Boy 9. Dua Lipa - Blow Your Mind 10. Kesha - Rainbow

Christian Wright - World Genre Director

1. Jay Som - Everybody Works

Melina Duterte’s sophomore album is a bedroom production jewel. Every song, incredibly cohesive as a whole, traverses the beautifully lush sonic worlds her mind seemingly conjures up. That’s not to say the ten tracks that span Everybody Works are simple happenstances that fall together nicely; they definitely sound like labors of love. Rather her voice, certain of itself, transmits to the listener so powerfully, making sense out of all the disorder that comes with self-doubt and personal struggle. “Won’t forget to climb,” she sings on E.W’s. final track, “For Light,” beautifully steering the qualms of trying to make it in this world.

2. Nikolas Escudero - Synthesis 3. Haley Heynderickx - Unpeeled (Live) 4. Fleet Foxes - Crack-Up 5. Bedouine - Beduoine 6. Japanese Breakfast - Soft Sounds from Another Planet 7. Lomelda - Thx 8. Hand Habits - Wildly Idle (Humble Before the void) 9. Kevin Morby - City Music 10. Wednesday Campanella - Superman

Ethan Lee - Jazz Genre Director

1. Nick Hakim - Green Twins

Nick Hakim blurs the line between psychedelic, soul, funk, rock, and jazz with his debut album, Green Twins. With lush melodies to command his songs and a spacey approach to recording production, Hakim creates his own unique sound and challenges the notions and implications of a music genre.  With a brand of sound that emulates Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Hakim's soundscape fills in colorful textures with his diverse instrumentation on top of steady, pulse-like rhythms.  From spacey, reflective post-R&B rock songs like "Bet She Looks Like You" to jazzy, rhythmic pulses in "Miss Chew" and slow, soulful ballads like "Needy Bees," Green Twins has just about everything you need in a debut album from an artist as complex as Nick Hakim.

2. Tyler the Creator - Flower Boy 3. Kamasi Washington - Harmony of Difference 4. Rex Orange County - Apricot Princess 5. Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah - Diaspora 6. Moses Sumney - Aromanticism 7. Steve Lacy - Steve Lacy’s Demo 8. Brockhampton - Saturation II 9. Smino - blkswn 10. Antonio Sanchez - Bad Hombre

Mark Edmonds - Electronic Genre Director

1. Moon Boots - First Landing

First Landing is Moon Boots' debut album. Moon Boots manages a deep overtone with techy-melodies. 'Never Get to You' is a standout track that will light up any dance floor or pool party. 

2. Rezz - Mass Manipulation 3. Oliver - Full Circle 4. Various Artists - Anjunadeep Vol. 9 5. Illenium - Awake 6. Giraffage - Too Real 7. Four Tet - New Energy 8. Odesza - A Moment Apart 9. Cosmic Gate - Materia Chapter.Two 10. Bicep - Bicep

Beliz Urkmez - Electronic Genre Director

1. Lorde - Melodrama

For me, Lorde's music means emotion in its purest, most honest form. Her sophomore album, Melodrama, captures her youth, her growth, her path to becoming a woman of her own and loving herself and all the ephemeral experiences in between. Mastering her craft, Lorde finds a cohesion between her atmospheric synths, harmonies, beats and the bittersweet wisdom in her lyrics. Especially in "Liability," a beautiful piano-ballad where she sings, "I understand, I'm a liability/ Get you wild, make you leave/ I'm a little much for everyone." Lorde is truly one of a kind and Melodrama proves she is one of the best artists today.

2. Gorillaz - Humanz 3. London Grammar - Truth Is a Beautiful Thing 4. HAIM - Something to Tell You 5. Alexandra Savior - Belladonna of Sadness 6. Temples - Volcano 7. Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds - Who Built the Moon? 8. Wolf Alice - Visions of a Life 9. Cigarettes After Sex - Cigarettes After Sex 10. Mura Masa - Mura Masa

Alex Ivanova - Folk/Singer-Songwriter Genre Director

1. Kiran Leonard - Derevaun Seraun

This is probably the most sonically beautiful album I’ve listened to in years. 22-year-old Kiran Leonard blends voice, piano, and string trio into an album with each movement representing a different piece of literature, seeing as the album was written to celebrate the re-opening of Manchester’s Central Library. The album is intensely personal, and raw, as Leonard’s voice is in the spotlight, accompanied by mournful accompaniment. I recommend this album endlessly.

2. The Spirit of the Beehive - pleasure suck 3. Jay Som - Everybody Works 4. Joan of Arc - He’s Got the Whole This Land Is Your Land in His Hands 5. Kindling - Hush 6. Синекдоха Монток - MMXVII (Parts 1 & 2) 7. Phoebe Bridgers - Stranger in the Alps 8. Sidney Gish - Ed Buys Houses 9. Tagubu & Klimperei - I Don't Remember The First Time  10. Nnamdi Ogbonnaya - DROOL

[miistical]

In God’s Parlor Room

The creak of the church door was a familiar sound—it was common, normal, entirely expected when one practically lived in the house of God as Father James did. And when the tapping came he saw no reason to turn, no reason to look upon this joiner; after all, he had heard the same many taps from the many heels the many mothers wore when they visited. But the taps did not stop at the first row of the pew. They did not stop at the midway point either, where Mrs. Davis sat, nor did the heels stop their rhythmic tapping when they reached the front. Father James even heard his coworker, Father Anthony, shuffle closer to himself and away from the tapping. Blinking, eyebrows furrowed at his colleague's behavior, the Father turned. At the bottom of the steps that lead to the speaker's podium stood a young woman. The last to notice her, Father James put down the bibles he had been organizing and walked the same path she had. He nodded to Mrs. Davis, her unknown thoughts filled with disdain - 'Such a fat girl shouldn't be wearing those clothes and neither should any decent woman!' - though she easily smiled back as though her eyes were not icy in disgust. He passed Joe, the other man's eyes big and round, who had fled to the confessional, his perverse thoughts leaving him red in shame. He passed darling Jasmyne, her dark eyes curious and her mind loud, both trained upon the woman at the front. And the woman, Father James noticed, was completely unfamiliar. Her feet were covered by the heels he had expected, but everything else was less so. The stranger was fit more for a club than a church but, while Father Anthony flew from her short dress and violently blue hair, Father James had made a point to never presume anything. He walked, slowly and heavily, hoping to give her time to relax, and took a position next to her. She did not speak, so he took the silence as an opportunity to look at her. Her dress ended at her thighs, the white fabric laid gently on her pale skin, while the black of the corset and lace sleeves somehow made her hair shine brighter. And, tucked away in her clenched hands, was a simple cross necklace. He didn't think for a second that it was her's.

"Hello," he said, his voice low. "Hello," she whispered back, her voice airy and high. She took a deep, shuddering breath and asked, "How do you do... this?" Father James watched as she raised her right hand, her rings catching the light from the many candles, and gestured at the church itself. Eyebrows raised, he wasn't too sure what she meant until she continued. "I'm just so lost." Her voice sounded as though it too were lost. Father James sighed, though there was a smile on his face. "Well then, you have come to the right place. I assume you've never prayed before?" Shrewd eyes poked at him from square frames and she laughed humorlessly. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess." "What do you mean?" Father James asked, befuddled. It was the woman's turn to sigh. "It's just been so long since I've last been here. In a church. And I just don't know what to do." "Why, you pray of course." "Yeah, but to what? To who? Do you guys just ask the big man for favors? I've never—!" She cut herself just as her voice began to rise. He laughed, unmeaning to but unable to get past her exasperation. It was as if God Himself had personally wronged her. "I do apologize, but it's not every day we get an atheist in church." She shifted, as if the mention of her belief shook her somehow, and her hands tightened their grip upon the necklace. "Yeah, well, I don't know what else to do at this point." Father James was hesitant to ask for clarification. Her voice was filled with a bitterness he had never dealt with; most people were saddened or angry or lost. 'Well,' Father James thought, 'I wouldn't say she's not angry.' Before he could get another word out, the unknown woman began again. "Look, I really don't believe in any of this - this nonsense. I don't understand how people can have faith in something that isn't proven to even exist in the first place. Don't get me wrong, science isn't perfect either, but that's something I can see—something I could study if I wanted." She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "A... a good friend of mine recently got into a car crash." Father James made a startled noise in the back of his throat. She laughed. It was an ugly thing. "God, saying it out loud doesn't really make me feel any better." "Sometimes things must get worse before they get better," Father James said. "Please, if you can, continue. You might find that it rests easily on your soul if you said it aloud." "My soul, huh?" She snorted, as if she did not believe in that either, and shrugged. "My - my friend is still in the hospital. She was driving just fine, the other driver was drunk and had crashed into her. If the asshole wasn't already in the hospital, I would've put him there." The woman ignored Father Anthony's disapproving glare at her language and looked Father James in the eye, daring him to tell her she was in the wrong. All the man did was shake his head in amusement, a smile playing around the corners of his lips. He motioned for her to go on. "...well, that was a week ago. The doctors all said she would have been just fine and that she was suppose to have woken up by now. They're not too sure why she hasn't, why she's not getting better. Her mom basically ordered them to give her any test they could think of - amazing woman, Ms. Skye is - but nothing's worked." She looked to the necklace in her hand and whispered to it, "She was Catholic, you know? Was wearing this when she got hit. And I thought, well, nothing was working. The doctors didn't know anything and all they could tell us was that we needed to wait. I don't want to wait." She looked up and made sure to look Father James in the eye. Her eyes were brown. "If science is gonna fail me, Father, then maybe Rosie was right to believe in God. But I don't know how to tell Him that." Father James was lost for words. Thankfully, he didn't have to say anything. "I can try to help, if you want." The two turned to Jasmyne. "I don't know if I can do much, but you never know." The stranger nodded and moved to walk to the other girl. Before she got too far, she turned back and said, "Thanks for listening, Father." "It was my pleasure," Father James replied. The next hour was filled with silence yet again. Joe and Mrs. Davis had left long ago and Father Anthony had hid himself in the back room. Father James had kept a steady eye on the two girls, their heads close together and hands intertwined. Father James knew the friend of the new prayer's story was most likely an intimate companion rather than someone platonic. It pained his heart to see a stranger try to lie about such a thing, but he knew many good people who had a bad reputation and couldn't be surprised. It felt as though only seconds had past when the woman stood back up. Jasmyne stayed seated and Father James knew she would be there for as long as he would allow it. The steady tapping of her heels followed her as made her way to the door. However, she did not immediately leave. Instead, she turned and walked over to Father James. "You know, I have to ask you something. Why were you so nice to me?" "Why wouldn't I be?" Father James asked in return. She opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. She huffed, a wry smile on her lips, and said, "'Cause I'm bi? 'Cause I look like this? 'Cause I literally cussed in church? Pick one." Father James' eyebrows rose and he blinked, not prepared for her to be so blunt. "Well, I wouldn't be a good Christian if I were rude to anyone different than me." "Damn," she said, the usually crude word soft, "the world would be a better place if more people like you were in it." "Why thank you." "Don't mention it. Seriously, I don't want anybody knowing I visited a church." The glimmer of humor in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. "Thanks for letting me stay in here, my friend—my girlfriend was right. God might actually know what He's doing." Father James laughed as she walked away, her hand lazily waving behind her. Before she made it to the door, she paused and looked back over her shoulder. She winked and said, "Oh, by the way, my name's Ryane." "It was nice to meet you, Ryane." Father James said, Jasmyne echoing him. She nodded. "It was nice to meet you too." The door, unlike her entrance, barely made a sound as she slipped out into the night. Weeks passed and she did not enter again. And if Father James saw her in his morning newspaper, the headline blaring a miraculous recovery for one Rosaline Summers, a young dark-skinned woman pictured with a blue-haired girl, well. He never said a word.

[jawritter]

The Arrangement

Part 4

Summery: You are a young girl that was raised in a small church in Dallas, TX. One of the only churches left in the state that still practices arranged marriages. When your betrothed ran off to California you thought you'd escape the fate you were trained for ever since a small child. Now upon the death your parents your fate seemed to be inescapable as he's returned, and is ready to take you as his bride.

Book Warnings: Arranged marriage, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex, angst, language, suicide attempt, battles with anxiety, struggles with mental illness, age gap (about 11 years), I think that’s it, chapters will have warnings of their own!

Chapter Warnings: Scared Reader, insecure reader, angest, pre smut, drinking, I think that’s it.

Word Count: 2626

A/N: This book is a book about Christian and church based arranged marriages, I would like to take this moment to say that I DO NOT have ANYTHING against the Chirstian faith, and mean absolutely no harm to anyone! Especially Jensen’s family! This is a complete work of fiction, and should be treated as such!

Beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons who was awesome enough to do all this for me! It was a lot of work, and she deserves all the praise for it!!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

The rain was pounding down on the windshield in sheets, and the traffic seemed to be moving impossibly slow due to the horrible weather. The only sound in the car is the sound of the windshield wipers dragging across the window, and the rain pounding down on top of the car. 

Jensen hadn't said a word to you, or looked at you even since pulling the car out onto the highway. You tried to tell yourself that it was just because he was trying to concentrate with all the bad weather and traffic. 

Your self-consciousness was screamed past your own reasoning.

'Look at him, he's freaking gorgeous! He's probably regretting this already, and you haven't even gotten to your hotel yet. He’ll probably return you to the church by morning, and not even try to consummate the marriage. Someone as attractive as him could never be attracted to someone like you.' your mind screamed at you.

You looked out the window, even though all you could see was pouring rain. Trying your hardest to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over onto your checks, you felt like he'd already rejected you. Your own thoughts quickly become your worst enemy.

You were so engrossed in your own thoughts that you nearly jumped out of your skin when he reached over and took your hand in his, and entwined your fingers together, your gaze snapping over to him.

"You okay?" he asked you, looking quickly over at you and then back to the road. You had to clear your throat to make your voice work clearly.

"Yeah, I'm okay."  You were once again having trouble thinking clearly, your mind on his thumb that was running little patterns on the back of your hand. His strong callous hand holding on tightly to your own. Your hands looked so small compared to his.

You looked up to notice that you seemed to be heading outside of town. You didn't know that you were leaving Dallas tonight. Where was he taking you? You could feel your heart racing in your chest. Was he going to bring you to California?

"Jensen...." you say tentatively, not wanting to test his authority as your husband and head of your house. Like the preacher said, like it or not, your body was no longer your own.

"What's wrong sweetheart? Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, looked nervously between yourself and the road.

"Yeah.. I'm fine, just wondering where we're going? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." you quickly looked away from him, and back out the side window, bracing yourself, not sure what his reaction would be to you questioning him. 

You'd only been married for fifteen minutes, and you already felt like you were screwing it up and making him want to get rid of you.

"Oh I'm sorry, I was concentrating on the traffic, this weather is something that I hadn't expected when I got here, and I forgot to tell you. I booked us an Airbnb to stay at for a few days while we get to know each other a little, and decide where to go from there. We're almost there, just about five more minutes." he said, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

You nodded your head, and decided you lucked out this time and he was more patient than you anticipated, still it was best not to push your luck.

"You know you don't have to be afraid of me." he said, looking over at you, his eyes meeting yours. He looked concerned, not angry, which surprised you. "I'd never do anything to hurt you. I feel like you're sitting over there terrified of me."

You mentally kicked yourself for sitting there acting like a child afraid of the monster in the closet. You were making your new husband feel like you were terrified of him, when really you didn't know what you were terrified of.

He pulled the car into the driveway of a house, which isn't what you expected at all. It was quite a cute little house, almost like a little cabin on it's own piece of land. Not some big motel, with people wondering around everywhere. 

"We're here." he said, putting the car in park and looking over at you. "Is this okay? I thought it might be more private, you know than a hotel."

"No, this is perfect! I just didn't know what to expect. I've never stayed at anything like this before."

His eyes softened as he looked at you. The rain had let up significantly, and the sun was starting to go down behind the tree line, casting just enough light in the car for you to clearly see him. Each time you looked at him, you couldn't help but feel like he took your breath away from you. He was so painfully handsome, which only amplified your insecurities that you fought to push down with everything you had.

Shrugging himself out of his suit blazer he reached over, and threw it across your shoulders, the smell of his cologne surrounded you, and immediately calmed you. He jumped out of the car in the rain, and ran around to open the door for you, pulling you close to his side as you stepped out into the steady drizzle, before running to the small porch that was attached to the house.

Once safe out of the rain Jensen reached in his pocket, and pulled out a key and quickly unlocked the door.

You waited for him to either open it or move out of the way so that you could go inside, but he did neither. Instead he turned around, and pulled you close to him, looking at you in a way that made your knees week.

Slowly, gently so as to not scare you, he leaned down and placed a feather light kiss to your lips. Your body responds to him in an instant , even though it only took you a moment to kiss him back. Your lips moving in time together, like it was second nature. For some reason that was comforting to you. If kissing him was this easy, maybe everything else would be to.

Finally breaking the kiss, Jensen pulled away, leaning his forehead to yours for a moment before gently leaning down, and as if you weighed nothing at all, picked you up into his arms. Turning to the door you didn't even notice he’d opened, he walked you both into the small little cabin.

His lips found yours again as his foot kicked the door closed, and he gently placed you on the couch in the living room, hovering his weight off of yours. Breaking the kiss he backs away from you, stopping long enough to place a light kiss to the top of your forehead.

"I'm going to go and grab our bags from the car, then I'm going to order us some takeout."

You blinked at him. Your heart sinking in your chest.

'He really didn't want you.' your mind was screaming at you again. 'See you weren't good enough for him'.

Sensing your confusion he leaned down, and placed a small kiss on your check before kneeling down beside the couch where you were sitting, putting his hands on both sides of your hips. His thumbs running little patterns on your skin just under your shirt.

"I know what you were expecting, but we have all night to get to that. You've been through a lot today, I thought maybe you might want a little time to yourself before we..." he looked down at his knees, almost like he was shy. 

That surprised you. A man that looked like that.. Shy? You didn't feel like you were anywhere near his equal. Why would he be shy around you?

"I'll go draw you a warm bath, and I'll let you know when dinner gets here. Then I'll get myself cleaned up  and we're going to get this old house cold enough for penguins to habituate, curl up in the bed and just let this happen naturally. I don't want to force this." he said, playing with your bare left ring finger before kissing you on the top of the forehead, and walking toward what you assumed was the bathroom.

You were grateful that he wasn't being forceful, and you did like the idea of having a little time alone before you had to officially become his 'wife' in the biblical sense. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as you thought it was going to be.

Five minutes later you walked into a decent sized bathroom that had a very nice jacuzzi bath on the wall of the room. Jensen had obviously put a bath bomb in, and turned the jets on for you.

The room was filled with the smell of lavender, and he'd dimmed the lights down to make it more relaxing. Looking over the vanity that sat across the room on the opposite wall, Jensen had laid out a towel and washcloth for you. It made you smile that even though he was stranger to you really, he'd taken the time to try and make you feel better in an uncomfortable situation.

Sinking into the warm water, you let it relax you, pulling away some of the stress that had been hanging over you like a dark cloud over the last week. Everything had all happened so fast. You woke up one morning and your whole life changed all in one week. 

Your parents were gone, and now you are married.

Thinking about being married brought a whole new stress to mind. 

You'd never been with a man before, even though you were 29 years old. You'd never even been given the opportunity to court anyone. Your parents always hoped Jensen would come back and claim you "when he comes to his senses." as your father always said.

From the point you were very small, you were told what was expected out of you once Jensen had claimed you as his wife.

Cooking, cleaning, nursing him back to health when he was feeling ill, baring his children if he so chose to give you any, and then raising those children, making a comfortable and safe home for him to come home to at the end of the day.

None of that scared you.

It was the fact, as your pastor not so delicately put it. "Your body is no longer your own, it belongs to him."

You were always told never to deny your husband when he comes to you. It was against the law of God to deny him the pleasure that you owed him for providing for your family. You were to under no circumstance turn him down. Period.

You were also told by friends you had made in the church that were already claimed by their husbands, that the wedding night wasn't ever really pleasant. Usually the first time being with your new husband was painful.

Just thinking about it, your stomach twisted in knots, and your hands started to shake. You knew what was expected of you. You knew in order to be fully bound to this man the way God intended, and even the law intended you had to have sex with him.

As fear of pain and blood rampaged through your mind while you lay there in the bath that he'd so graciously drawn for you, a soft knock on the door nearly made you fly out of your skin and land on the ceiling like a cat.

"Baby, the food is here."

"Baby?" you thought to yourself as you climbed out of the warmth of the water, and wrapped the towel around you. "

Are pet names normal this early?"

"Okay." you yelled back toward the door, afraid if you didn't respond he'd come in. 

You listened as his footsteps made their way back toward the living room and kitchen area. You sighed in relief as you walked over to look through your overnight bag that you'd carried in the bathroom with you.

Dressing quickly in your favorite pair of Pajama pants, and black t-shirt you made your way into where you'd heard Jensen disappear to.

He'd already gotten the food out and plated for the two of you, and was pouring wine into two glasses. He smiled softly as he heard you enter the room.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah a little." you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen brought the two plates of food over to the coffee table, trying to keep the situation non formal and comfortable probably. 

"Sit down and eat sweetheart." he patted the spot on the couch next to where he'd placed his own plate, and retreated to grab the wine he'd poured for the two of you out of the kitchen.

You looked at the dark red liquid that he'd placed down in front of you as you slowly started to make your way through your food. You'd never drank any sort of alcohol before. Your father hadn't allowed it.

"I thought it might help.." Jensen said, watching you closely. "You know if you were a little more relaxed tonight."

So he thought getting you tipsy would make this easier for you. Great.

You said nothing, knowing better than to challenge his authority. 

You picked up the glass, and took a test sip of the substance it contained. It wasn't an unpleasant taste, though it was different. Satisfied that you were eating Jensen turned the TV on in front of you, and tucked into his own food. Watching the highlights of the local college football game.

The sound coming from the TV was oddly comforting. It was a sound that you remember hearing every Sunday after church. Your dad would come home and turn the TV on to catch the highlights of the game that he'd missed. That little piece of home, or the alcohol you'd started to consume relaxed you a great deal.

Once you both were about two glasses in of wine, and your plates cleaned, you gathered up everything and brought it to the dishwasher. Jensen had done more than you probably should have let him already. He didn't protest, just watched you closely as you loaded the dishwasher.

Coming up behind you, he put his arms around your waist, and turned you away from the sink that you were standing in front of to face him, looking into you (y/e/c) eyes for a moment before bringing his lips to yours, kissing you with a little more force than he had before you'd gone to take a bath earlier. It damn near knocked the breath right out of you.

Jensen slipped his tongue between your lips, slowly exploring your mouth, taking his time running his tongue over yours, kissing you like you'd always dreamed someone would. Memorizing everything about you as his hands traced the hem of your shirt lightly, sending chills down your spine.

Finally he pulled away, looking into your eyes with his head resting on your forehead, his thumb tracing lightly over your cheek bone.

"I'm going to go grab a really quick shower, you wanna wait for me there." he said, jerking his head toward what you knew was the bedroom was located that was attached to the master bathroom.

You said nothing. Taking a deep breath, you nodded your head, and he placed a feather light kiss on the side of your mouth before walking away into the bathroom.

You knew you couldn't put it off forever, but the fear that gripped you was unreal as you made your way into the master bedroom and pulled the covers back, climbing in the cold sheets to wait for your husband.

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[h-bailey]

Ravaged by opioids, a rural W. Va. community fears gutting of Medicaid

An ambulance responding to a call in Point Pleasant, W.V. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

POINT PLEASANT, W.V.— A few months ago, Dylan Handley and another paramedic were responding to a medical alert here in rural Mason County when he noticed one of the back tires of their ambulance had gone flat. When the call turned out to be a false alarm, they pulled the vehicle over and were getting ready to change the tire when a man drove up and offered to help.

One of his employees was a mechanic and could change the tire quickly, the man said. And as promised, the mechanic was soon on the scene, lifting up the ambulance with a forklift and removing the tire so quickly that, as Handley recalled, “It was like watching a NASCAR pit stop.”

After much gratitude, Handley and his colleague were soon back on their way, and just as they hit the road, a 911 call came from the other side of the county—a call they likely would have missed had they been stuck fixing the flat on their own. When they arrived, they found a situation that has become all too familiar here in Mason County in recent years: a young girl, her breath so faint that her skin had turned blue, passed out from an apparent drug overdose.

Mason County is the epicenter of an opioid epidemic that has overtaken much of West Virginia. So Handley did what he and his team at the Mason County EMS now do two or three times a day, on average. He administered oxygen and gave her a shot of Narcan, an opioid blocker. Within minutes, the girl was awake and talking, apologizing profusely for what she had done. She insisted she had been clean for months, but had slipped up—an excuse EMTs hear a lot on the job in Mason County. As she gave Handley her driver’s license so he could fill out paperwork, she thanked the paramedics profusely for saving her life. But like many overdose patients here, she declined to be taken to the hospital. She felt fine and didn’t want anybody else to know what had happened. She insisted she would be OK on her own, with no further treatment.

When he looked at the last name on the license, Handley suddenly froze. “Who is your dad?” he asked the girl. When she told him, he couldn’t believe it. Her father was the mechanic who had just fixed their flat tire. “I know she would have died had he not helped us fix that tire,” Handley recalled. “I told her that she didn’t have to thank us but that she’d better get on her knees and thank God and then go home and thank her dad because if it hadn’t been for him, we would have still been stuck there on the side of the road, and we wouldn’t have gotten to her in time.”

Roadside crosses in Mason County, W.V. , a region that has been hard hit by the opioid epidemic (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

When people ask Handley what it’s like being a paramedic in a county awash in opioids, where drug overdoses have become more prevalent than murders, car crashes and even heart attacks, he tells that story—a tale so unbelievable, he admits he probably wouldn’t believe it had he not been there to see it for himself.

But for Handley, who heads up the Mason County EMS and has worked as a medic in the region for 20 years, the story encapsulates everything about the drug epidemic that his overwhelmed his hometown: How it has touched everything and everybody in this small county of roughly 27,000 people and how he and his team, as first responders, are on the front lines everyday racing to keep people alive against a scourge that seems to have no end.

“People have this idea of what they think someone who abuses drugs is, that it’s some deadbeat. But everyday, we are treating people we know, people you see in church or that you went to high school with or are honor students from good families,” he said. “You’d look at them and never know. But nobody has been spared. …And the worst part is that you see them again and again. They get caught up in the grips of this thing, and it consumes them. They can’t get out.”

 In the past 12 months, Handley and his team have responded to more than 150 calls related to drug overdoses—roughly double the number of calls reported between June 2015 to June 2016, the agency’s reporting year. According to the West Virginia Health Statistics Center, which monitors the state’s vital records, 13 people died in Mason County from drug overdoses in the calendar year 2016. That was more than double the six fatalities reported in 2015 and one of the highest per capita drug death rates in the state of West Virginia, which reported 879 overdose deaths overall—one of the highest totals in the nation.

If there is an upside to what has happened to Mason County, and Handley is always desperately looking for one, it’s that more people haven’t died. But many here wonder how much longer than can last. As the crisis grows, the opioid war has taken a major financial toll on rural health care providers, including the local hospital and the Mason County EMS, which receives little public funding and has been barely making ends meet. It pays the bills largely through patient insurance—which in this mostly poor, rural area is Medicaid, a program that could see massive cuts under the health care bill championed by Senate Republicans anxious to deliver on their campaign promise of repealing the Affordable Care Act.

Dylan Handley, head of the Mason County EMS (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

Already on the financial brink because of reimbursement cuts, the Mason County EMS is also bracing for potential disaster on another front. In September, a state grant that has been reimbursing the service for its use of Narcan, the opioid-countering drug credited with saving scores of lives here, is set to expire with no prospect of renewal. Just $12 a vial two years ago, Narcan has quadrupled in price to nearly $50 a shot amid high demand. “Price gouging,” Handley called it. And with some addicts now switching from opioids to heroin laced with synthetic drugs, which is cheaper than prescription drugs and dangerously stronger, some overdose victims in Mason County are now requiring as many as five shots of Narcan to be revived. While Mason County hasn’t run out of the anti-overdose drug yet, other parts of the state have. That’s led to complaints that addicts are abusing the drug as a “get out of jail free card,” as local official here put it, continuing to use and assuming someone will always be there to Narcan them out of harm’s way.

 Between the Senate health care bill and the end of the Narcan grant, Handley frets about looming disaster for the Mason County EMS, one of the few rural ambulance services left in the region. In West Virginia, more than 40 ambulance services across the state’s 55 counties have shut down in recent years because of financial troubles, and Handley worries Mason County could be next. “If there are more Medicaid cuts, and no other help, this would be catastrophic for us,” he said last week. “I don’t know if we could survive. We are talking about a potential situation where people would call 911, and there would be no one to help, whether it’s an overdose or a heart attack or a car accident or a broken hip. There would be no one. Can you imagine?”

It’s hard to ignore the politics at play. Mason County was unquestionably Donald Trump country, a remote area where residents strongly identified with his populist message and appeal to Americans who had been left behind by economic progress. But the Republican effort to gut Medicaid may be stirring the first real signs of disaffection with Trump among those supporters most responsible for his unlikely path to the White House.

Mason County is located on the far western side of West Virginia, about an hour north of Huntington. It is nestled deep in a winding, hilly landscape that runs along the Ohio River in purest Appalachia. It used to be a place teeming with industry like farming, steel and coal mines and even a flourishing lumber industry that, among other things, used to be the primary supplier of timber for wooden ships long before the arrival of steel vessels and barges. It is an area that remains deeply entrenched in Christian faith, with countless roadside crosses and tributes to Jesus Christ, including signs with words from Biblical scripture—including ones admonishing people to “Love Thy Neighbor.”

Dylan Handley, head of the Mason County EMS, holds a vial of Naloxone, better known as Narcan, which is administered to stop the effects of a drug overdose (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

During World War II, the area was home to military facilities that manufactured and stored TNT—ordinance that was kept in concrete igloos that still dot the landscape outside Point Pleasant. When the facility was closed in 1945, the “TNT area,” as it is known, became the subject of local legend and later popular culture when residents reported seeing what they described as a large, winged figure haunting the woods. The red-eyed birdman was soon christened “The Mothman,” a celebrated figure in local folklore that later was the subject of a book and a 2002 film starring Richard Gere that attracted tourists to the area curious about the supernatural. According to local lore, the figure is only seen when things are about to get really bad, and after a decades long absence, sightings of the Mothman have suddenly started up again, beginning last November. Some local believers openly wonder if it was a foreshadowing for the rocky few months to come.

The area has been in steady decline for a few decades. Hard hit by factory and plant closures that have plagued other Rust Belt states, the unemployment rate in Mason County has been steady at around 12 percent for years—though many here believe its much higher since many residents long ago gave up looking for jobs, a depression that many blame for the rise in drug abuse.

One of the biggest blows came in 2015 when the Philip Sporn Power Plant, located in the northern part of the county in New Haven, closed. The coal-fired plant had struggled for years amid the rise of natural gas, reducing its workforce from a high of 350 in the 1970s to just 70 workers. Two years ago, the owner, Appalachian Power, announced it would close the plant because it did not comply with new clean-air rules passed by the Obama administration, a decision that did not win the president many fans.

So when Trump came along, campaigning on a message of dialing back Obama-era regulations on the coal industry, creating jobs and helping what he called “the forgotten people” in America who had not enjoyed the economic resurgence experienced by other parts of the country, people here strongly latched on to his message. Add to that his promises of doing more to stave off the opioid crisis, and Mason County was firmly Trump country. Though most voters in the county are registered Democrats, Republican presidential candidates have tended to triumph here, winning with a little over half the vote. But last November, Trump won 75 percent of the vote—one of the highest percentages in a state that strongly supported his unlikely candidacy—and people here have been anxious to see him deliver on the promises he made to the region.

A church advertises a "Day of Sobriety" in Point Pleasant, W.V. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

These days support for Trump here is somewhat muted compared to even a few months ago. Driving around the county on a recent Friday, nobody wanted to own up to backing Trump last November. In the parking lot of the local Dairy Queen in Point Pleasant, a woman who had a “Make America Great Again” bumper sticker on her car demurred when asked about the president. Why didn’t she want to talk? The day before Senate Republicans had unveiled their version of health care reform, which like the House bill passed in the spring, detailed massive cuts to Medicaid. “I like Trump, but I guess I am disappointed,” the woman, who declined to give her name, said. “I don’t think Obamacare is perfect, but I don’t think throwing the whole thing out is smart either. That hurts us here. What are people going to do?”

It’s a question that has vexed elected officials, including the state’s junior senator, Shelley Moore Capito. The centrist Republican backed Trump last year and has been critical of Obamacare but has been cagey about Republican efforts to repeal the ACA because of how it would impact her constituents in a state that has strongly benefitted from the law.

According to U.S. Census Bureau numbers cited by Politifact, the number of uninsured individuals between the ages of 18 and 64 went from an average 21 percent between 2008 and 2013 to 9 percent in 2015 in West Virginia after the ACA—one of the biggest declines in the country.

West Virginia was among the 31 states took advantage of a provision in the ACA that allowed states to expand Medicaid to grant coverage to millions of low-income adults who could not otherwise afford health care. But the Senate bill would gut Medicaid—cuts that could be potentially devastating to West Virginia and especially its efforts to combat the opioid crisis.

Not only are rural health care providers heavily dependent on Medicaid, many of those covered by Medicaid are the ones being treated for drug abuse. According to the West Virginia Department of Health and Human Resources, roughly 50,000 of those who are covered through the Medicaid expansion were treated for substance abuse last year—a number many state officials expect to increase amid a drug crisis that only appears to be getting worse by the day.

After Senate leaders delayed a vote on the bill, Capito announced she was against the current legislation as it is written. But she continues to be seen as a pivotal figure in the debate, a swing vote who has been lobbied intensely by people on both sides of the issue.

Point Pleasant, W.V. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

Among those who have lobbied her—or tried—has been Handley, who says he has called Capito and others in the West Virginia congressional delegation repeatedly to warn the EMS could be forced to close if the proposed cuts to Medicaid are approved. “It feels like it falls on a deaf ear,” he said. “They all like to get on MSNBC and Fox and talk about how they’re there to help their constituency, but I think when you get down to the brass tacks of it, if they would look at their constituency, they’re not doing a very good job.”

The Mason County EMS’s offices are located just outside Point Pleasant, on a patch of land next to a mobile home park not far from the banks of the Ohio River. In one building is the county’s emergency operations center—a building built after 9/11 that is constructed to withstand bombs and severe weather. But it’s the silent creep of drugs that has proven to be the more terrorizing element here, the one that threatens to break the back of health care.

As head of the EMS, Handley has an alert on his phone for every 911 call that comes in to the dispatch center. Though he’s consumed with budgets and trying to find ways to pay the bills, including the $80,000 a month payroll he has for his small team of paramedics, Handley still often goes out on calls—determined to see for himself what his staff is coming up against.

Positioned right along the Ohio border, Mason County is believed by some to be the major transportation point into West Virginia for drug dealers bringing their product into the state. And Handley can often tell when they arrive, as overdose calls begin to dot the map along the key highways around the county—up north towards New Haven and down south towards Huntington and Charleston.

The service has four ambulances available at any given time, each staffed by two paramedics, which would seem to be enough for a small area like Mason County. But with the uptick in overdoses, Handley worries constantly about the nightmare scenario where they can’t respond in time. In recent months, they have come close to being overwhelmed. In April, a bad batch of heroin prompted 14 overdose calls in less than five hours, prompting Handley to call on help from neighboring counties. Miraculously, nobody died, thanks in large part to Narcan and quick thinking from the county’s emergency operations center which posted a message on Facebook warning people about the bad drugs—a social message that appeared to work since the overdose calls suddenly stopped.

Just last week, Handley and his team responded to six overdoses in a few hours in a single day—prompting worries that another bad outbreak was happening. But the calls soon slowed down, and no one died. “My biggest fear is not getting to someone,” he said. “Can you imagine having six people die or 14 people die in a single day? In a small community like ours? Can you imagine how catastrophic that would have been? …That’s what we would define as a mass casualty incident. I can’t imagine what kind of toll that would take locally.”

A dispatcher in Mason County's 911 center. On many days, most calls are for drug overdoses (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

While health statistics suggest that more people than ever in West Virginia are seeking help for substance addiction, one of the problems in a place like Mason County is that treatment facilities and counseling have not kept up with the number of addicted, and many have wait lists that are months long. And in Handley’s experience, many of those he’s helped save from an overdose are too embarrassed to seek help and are falsely convinced they can kick the habit on their own.

Unlike Ohio, where overdosing on drugs is against the law and can result in arrest or forced treatment, there is no such law in West Virginia. And many times, when the Mason County EMS treats someone, the patient declines to be transported to the hospital. “And we see them, again and again,” Handley said. “It’s terrible.”

A few weeks ago, he responded to a 911 call about a young girl passed out in a car. He recognized her as an honor student, the daughter of parents he often saw at church, and now here she was, being “Narcanned” and respirated back to life, on some dead end street. “Why are you doing this to yourself,” he asked her. She told him she, at the encouragement of friends, had tried heroin at a party a few weeks earlier and now couldn’t get enough. She refused to go to the hospital. “It’s just so sad,” he said, shaking his head. “Someone who had such a promising path, and now her life is probably derailed.”

Driving around Mason County, you would never know it was the center of an opioid crisis. Unlike other states, like Montana and Kentucky, where anti-drug billboards dot the landscape, there is almost no sign anywhere of the drug crisis, save for a sign advertising a “Day of Sobriety” in front of a local church on the main stretch through Point Pleasant.

Roadside signage in Mason County, W.V. , a region that has been hard hit by the opioid epidemic (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

But look a little harder and you can see how the issue preoccupies this community. The debate over drugs rages on social media including Facebook, where people often post messages on the Mason County EMS’s page—and sometimes even on Handley’s personal page—arging about the ambulance service’s financial crisis and pinning it entirely on drug abusers—which is part, but not all of the problem.

“People often say, “Why are we wasting money buying Narcan for these losers? Why are we spending money trying to save them?’” Handley said. “I think people don’t realize that what is happening is happening to people they know.”

He often thinks about the girl and her father who fixed his ambulance’s flat tire and replays in his mind what would have happened had he not reached her. Many months later, he has no idea if the daughter ever told her father what happened, how his small act of kindness paid it forward in a remarkable way.

“I haven’t seen her again,” he said. “And I pray that’s a good thing.”

_____

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Photos: Demonstrations over reinstatement of President Trump’s travel ban

[claraduffy]

on abundance

On these 6 months: the words have been lost to me for some time now. I sure want to find them, or to look for them in an uninhibited sort of way. I’ve done myself some harm, I think, by hesitating to look for them; by sitting blithely in the sunshine without praising it when night-time comes. It sure is a spacious place out here - more spacious than I ever knew or could have known. There are marvels and then there is orange construction fencing around a broken up street; there is pure honey goodness and later there is cheap ice cream and stomach cramps and hurt feelings. This life is paradoxical! 

Some of the very lovely and holy things I want to explain are the true welcome of my team and people I’ve met in Mexico. I want to explain the devastating beauty of Aquiles Serdán - its people so weathered and strong, so hurt and yet reaching out for more. I want to laud the hungry and restless children, their fingers curled around the iron gates, waiting for 5 o’ clock, screaming “ya son las cinco!” I want to stop and remind you that I and my words (my words!) are completely inadequate to really take you there, down Calle Alamo, over the topes and past Lupita’s carnicería, past Antony and Eva sitting under the magnolia tree, to the red gate of the mission where Miguel is sitting on his five gallon bucket. I can’t take you there, but I will try and explain what it has meant to me. 

If there’s one true thing I know it’s that God gives us each other. He gives us to each other and it doesn’t always make sense to me why and how and who and when, but in these six months he’s given me people and given me to people, and through these beloveds God, sometimes gently and other times quickly, is pulling me out of my-comfortable-self, into a place where I am helpless and vulnerable and afraid, doomed except for His hand pulling me along. There are almost no earthly reasons anymore, just this hearty, blind sort of trust in His purpose. 

Let me be more clear: what I mean is that he didn’t have to let me in on the glory of his work in Mexico. I am not Mexican. I am here with a 6 month visa and a short term commitment to serve in a mission. I have no right to be here. But I am helpless when I turn to look at his face of Love and Mercy. He let me come, anyway. 

One thing that I keep coming back to is the hands: holding hands, shaking hands, hi-fives and secret handshakes; the hands of my grandfather, so wrinkled and scarred; the hands of my grandmother, softened by years and always laden with jewelry, memorable in the way they touch - pure tenderness. Hands mean something, and have meant something here because almost every day I have looked down and found my own hands dirty - paint, clay, mud, dust, mulberry juice, soil, mango, markers, glue, chile or masa. And it is delightful to work in this way, with my hands, and to have people working alongside of me, getting their hands dirty, too. 

The other thing is realizing what this picture - me with dirty hands each day - can teach me about my heart and the way I walk toward the throne. I am forever looking in the mirror. I am forever pushing to the front of the line. I am approaching others thinking about what they can give me or do for me. I am climbing up to the top of the jungle gym, perching there and thinking ugly things about my friends playing tag on the ground. I am thoughtless and lazy and sometimes bulldozing through the day like it’s mine to tear down and use for my own purposes. I’m filthy! Todd (Leon) Bridges sings in his song, River, “There’s blood on my hands, and my lips are unclean.” One grace is realizing this: as I get my hands dirty working and playing every day, my hands are also dirty in the way I sometimes walk selfishly and destructively, not caring for others or listening to God’s voice. My hands are dirty when I believe I can do it alone and forget how much I need Him, and I run toward those desires of my heart that are deeply selfish and, really, evil. My hands are dirty in this way, too. 

In Ezekiel, God is addressing Jerusalem, employing the image of a bride whom he loves and who is cheating on him. 24-26: “For I will take you out of the nations; I will gather you from all the countries and bring you back into your own land. I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”

Every day I get my hands dirty, literally, and at night I get to wash them and take a cold shower and rest, knowing that in the morning his mercy will be new. I get to apologize and ask my friends for forgiveness, and their mercy toward me flows from Him, too. I get to stand, sort of stripped and helpless, in this devastating and beautiful city and accept a little more every day this heart of flesh that is going to be inconvenient and inefficient for the rest of my life. He doesn’t get tired of sprinkling clean water on me. He knows I will get my hands dirty again. 

Isaiah 55 is the name of the mission, and that chapter of the Bible paints a picture of abundance that is ringing in my ears. 1-3: “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and you will delight in the richest of fare. Give ear and come to me; listen, that you may live. I will make an everlasting covenant with you, my faithful love promised to David.” 

I am standing here and I have nothing of true value to offer Him - I am thirsty, I am always needing something. He sees me and sees that I cannot pay for it, but he asks me to come! Because I can see myself this way, I can see others who cannot pay for it either, and I can point to my loving father and say, I know you cannot pay for it but please, come! 

Later in the chapter it says something of the nature of Christian mission, of inviting others (and others you know not!) into this unbelievable grace. 5: “Surely you will summon nations you know not, and nations you do not know will come running to you, because of the Lord your God, the Holy one of Israel, for he has endowed you with splendor.” He gives me the tools and the courage to talk to people in my second language, to ask them about their pain and their joy and sometimes share where my hope comes from. Some days the girls from the community center literally run toward us when they see us from a distance opening the black iron gate. Out of breath, Daniela hugs me with her long, bony arms, pulls a caramelo out of her pocket for me, and asks me to braid her hair. 

The end of the 55th chapter of Isaiah goes like this. 12: “You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. Instead of the thorn-bush will grow the juniper, and instead of briers the myrtle will grow. This will be for the Lord’s renown, for an everlasting sign, that will endure forever.” 

I have gone out in great, dizzying joy and known unexplainable peace in these six months. There have been moments of bursting into song, and creation around me has declared his glory. I want to laud and praise Him for all of it: 

living on Calle Nogal with Kimi, a wise and kind mother-sister-friend, sitting at our little table eating grapes with the sunlight pouring in the window; the kittens born behind our washing machine and the giant bougainvillea plant coming out of the ground a little more each day; the dear friends who flew and drove and dug out their passports to visit me here; to Kate who gave me books to read that I am still rambling about to anyone who will listen; to Keila Alemán with whom I sat in the park with a box of pizza and who listened so well and who walks so kindly and with eyes so wide open (to Keila who has taught me so much by being a friend and caring for others as I watch in awe!); to Mario whose humility and joy and attention to others are rare and precious; to Keila Xoca who is brave and steady and weepy and true; to Jacki and Ashley and Grecia and Jenny and all the girls who answer my endless questions and learned the table beat thing and poured chamoy over their apples; to to initial thrill of driving alone in Reynosa and to the rose man and the men who clean my windshield as I laugh and ask them not to; to Azalia sewing red thread through my ripped jeans and Adalia walking me through the centro; to the giant nemo piñata and cake in my nose and ears after the mordida; to the warm rain falling after sweltering days painting; to baseball and soccer with boys who called me Cristiana Reynaldo; to crying on the back porch of the mission and to staff meetings passing biscuits around; to picking mulberries with Beto then climbing on top of the backhoe to reach more berries; to the crazy Dr. Simi costumed men dancing in the street as the sky explodes in shades of pink and orange and I drive home (this is my home?!) singing in Spanish, ready to kiss the dry, rocky ground littered with broken bottles because all of this is holy and undeserved and pure, 100-proof grace. 

I could go on and on (and I have) but I will stop now. I just want to say that I’m thankful and that I believe this Grace is waiting on you, too. That the God of Mercy wants to sprinkle clean water on your dirty hands and give you good gifts. That there is more room, more grace, that there is abundance, and freedom in this knowledge: Romans 8:15 “The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father!”

[sweensteennsfw]

You think you really wanna know how I feel ?

I’m going to try something that may be too  far. even for me.   

   I’ve been steadily chipping away at any brain/mouth filter I may have.  If you have to think about something before you say it, you’re changing the truth  of the message. This is not me   glamorizing and laughing about my poor life choices.filter /off  here we go

Friends/family  have made this much more bearable Please, Don’t take any venom I’m  spitting as being directed towards you.

                          ‘How Are You?”

“How are you doing ?” everyone asks,I’m not trying to make light  of  any genuine concern. It means a lot. I promise. If anyone really wants to know the answer to that question. they’re reading....

“I’m doing alright,   *considering.”, and  ‘ hanging on’ are  the responses  my instinct blurt out before I think. They’re not lies.  .  

“*considering =i’m not a blubbering wreck, slamming dope in my veins, or looking for the nearest “self exit” method.

Hanging on= just barely. 

frankly, i  don’t think I’ve felt worse . 

It’s roughly 8AM, The steady throb of a migraine syncs perfectly with the ‘tic, tic, tic” of an obnoxious wall clock.  I’m alone in the room with my mother, who is currently  fading in and out of  a place beyond suffering. I’m so very tired, but I can’t rest. She wants me here, The cold hard truth is my “goal” for the day is to watch my mother die. I’ve prepared for years, but it’s not any fucking easier. 

What do I want ?

1, I wish I’d invested in a healthy relationship. I need a woman to hold my head on her lap and stroke my hair while telling me with 100% certainty that “everything will be okay..”

2. ’d club bout 15 baby seals for a fucking joint, man 

3 .most of all, I don’t want my momma to die. Let alone  have see it .

 I’ve managed to keep things under control thus far. I just had toplay the Bowie album. I’m listening to the ‘legacy collection’ Things are going just fine ,I keep my cool from “space oddity “ to “heroes”  and then “Under Pressure” starts  playing. It’s a powerful song anyway. I make it through until the last section “ cause love's such an old fashioned word “ and now i’m sobbing so hard I’m almost heaving . 

Cancer already  robbed me  of one hero, whom I never met . And now you’re stealing the first hero I ever had, My Mom?! 

Fuck you , cancer. 

My night has  been one long  candle-less vigil. 

The journey outside.

]At some point, I rode along with Mom’s friend, Dena  to the nearest service station

“Will we make it back in time? before,, you know..” I asked Dena  

“Oh yes, honey.”She reassured me..

I feigned relief, truly I hoped I would  miss my mom’s death.I don’t think that’s abnormal:

I Leave for a minute, come back, and It’s done. I’ve watched her slowly die long enough, Must I bear the weight of the final stretch alone? Yes, People have things they must do. And I hold no ill will for that.I just feel more alone than anything, 

Once we arrived at the station  I approached the door and noticed a young couple en route to the same door as me . As the guy rushed out  he nearly let the door  slam in my face;thankfully, his lovely  His girlfriend swooped in and held the door open. For a fraction of a second, we locked eyes, and I said ‘thank you.’

No sooner had the last syllable left my lips,  her guy suddenly reappeared , threw his arm around her waist, hustling her away. We locked eyes, His said “Easy there crippled guy- she’s mine!”

I didn’t interact with her long, but I know a pity look when I see one. Her look didn’t read “pity” She was doing the equivalent of window shopping broken goods. Reallu, redneck guy? If she’s eyeballing me, then I can’t imagine what you’re not offering her. I’m low  on life, I’ve gotta claim victories, no matter how insignificant. 

Having ladies open doors for me was one of the strangest post-stroke emotions. Most men would take it as an insult to their masculinity; but it means the world sometimes. I’ve gotta find the positives where I can 

So I’m crippled. Boo-fucking-hoo 

Think of any benefits..

Not only do women pay more attention to me; they’re opening doors and giving me hugs . It’s nothing sexual(maybe) If they aren’t friends, girls hug better. 

That’s not enough for me. no! I’ve got to  instigate a fight by having someones girlfriend open a door for me. Let them say something, My mouth can write  checks all day.. You’re the one dumb enough to take my bad checks 

As long as I can remember I’ve been a pacifist. Not from any snoble sense. I’m a pacifist out of spite. A big mouth is all the weapon I need. My ammunition are those  words my target won’t even know the meaning of.

A word about Christians

I appreciate wholeheartedly, any offers of prayers, or even spiritual discussion from the best christianity has to offer. 

Much to my delight/disgust, once I  hobbled my way back to this very sad  room, I had a message from someone I’d not spoken to in a long time. All the message said was “something God’s love and Grace”

 Not only have you ignored everything  I’ve been through  in the past fucking decade. You don’t even have the courtesy to ask how anyone is doing. You wanna talk about God all of a sudden. Fuck you, an fuck your grace. You wait until my mother is on her literal death bed, swoop in like a vulture, and as we’re in the most vulnerable of positions, not only do you Ignore any sort of Jesus-like compassion., You go straight to the bullshit. “don’t be sad..you’ll be together forever in never-neverlands “  Mom’s  made her peace with God. I don’t have e any. IN fact, What’s that unforgivable  sin? denying the holy spirit, I think?

Thanks to that terrible show of faith, I think I’ll do that as much as I can. Not only did you fail in whatever  ‘ mission’ you were on.. You’ve damned this guy to eternal damnation. 

Who the fuck wants to live forever? Have you put much thought into this ? I don’t. 33 years has been rough. Yeah, I know the sales pitch: paradise, eternal life , yada, yada.. “but in heaven, you won’t have to suffer the pain of losing someone to hell, cuz you won’t remember them “ Fuck that. I’ll take eternal damnation and  at least having my memories intact. . 

I’m fine though, cuz II know it’s bullshit. what's so scary? Not being able to selfishly cling onto your petty existence for eternity? that’s terrifying. 

That morals are only enforced because of fear of eternal damnation?  ONly if you’jre a twisted fuck. I  have morals because I respect my fellow humans. The idea of this being our only ‘for sure’ existence only makes it more valuable..  

so much of me wants to go chemically numb myself through this. But I won’t As crazy as they may be, I have plans, and a future too.

see you there!

[tashkandi]

Three Little Words

“Like golden apples in silver settings are words spoken at the proper time.” (Proverbs 25:11)

Words have a power to help us connect at a deeper level as married couples.

There are a few simple phrases, ones that if honestly spoken and acted upon will help to move your marriage a step further, from simply loving the other, to nurturing the soul of the one you love. And since I am the wife in our marriage of 35 years, I speak from the perspective of a woman. I’ll leave it to Dennis to write about a man’s perspective in a future blog.

So heads up to the men out there! These phrases do wonders for a woman to hear from the man who is her life’s partner:

“How are you?”

No, I don’t mean the “how ya doin?” that we use so informally to begin conversations with acquaintances. I mean for Dennis to sit near to me, take me by the shoulders, look deeply into my eyes and to say, “Really…How are you?”

The pressures of raising a family in this chaotic world can sometimes keep meaningful conversations to a minimum, as you begin to depend on the other to “do their part” to keep the household running. As a wife and mother, it has been easy at times for me to throw myself into taking care of my children and fulfilling the responsibilities of my job outside the home. And if there are additional life issues that you are both dealing with, there can be a tendency to simply become absorbed in day to day functions in order to cope.

But there is something within me, as a woman, that wants to be known to Dennis – that needs to be known. All the time spent on responsibilities can leave me feeling frazzled and alone. At those times, our marriage is only surviving, and not really thriving.

The wise husband will see this and understand the “relational” aspect of his wife’s soul and speak these three simple words to her, assuring her of his steady concern for how she is really doing.

“You look beautiful.”

During the dating relationship, I spent a lot of time trying to look nice for Dennis. Even though we were poor college students, we would celebrate one another’s birthday with a special meal at a nice restaurant. I am sure at those times Dennis told me that I looked beautiful, but it does not hold as special a place as another memory.

Nine months pregnant with our first daughter, I was having trouble sleeping comfortably, only able to turn from one side or another in order to get comfortable. We visited my mother in Rochester to celebrate our fourth wedding anniversary, and slept on the rock-hard sofa-bed in her spare room. The next day, my mother took a picture of us that I will always treasure, because at that moment…just weeks before our first little girl was born, I felt more beautiful than I have ever felt.

Oh, it wasn’t a magazine picture to be sure! To me, I look like I have not slept well (I hadn’t), am wearing BIG glasses (it’s 1985 for heaven’s sake!), and have a big round tummy under my maternity sweater.

But next to me is my wonderful husband. He has his arms around me, and the look on his face is so proud that whether he said the words or not, I knew that I was beautiful to him right at that moment.

“Beautiful” is a package deal. The heart of a woman wants to know…am I beautiful to you? Don’t wait another moment…tell her.

“This will pass.”

Life can take a lot of twists and turns. The longer you live, the more likely there will come some form of suffering. Deaths of parents or loved ones, estranged friendships or relatives, illness, choices of adult children…these difficulties can threaten to steal the joy that is meant to be ours in our marriage and Christian life. How we deal with suffering can make or break a holy marriage.

To hear “this will pass” reminds me that although life can be unpredictable, our faith and our love for each other will see us through any crisis. It does not take away or diminish the pain, perhaps, but it reminds me that I journey with one I love, and to lift my eyes to the future.

These are just a few examples of three simple words that can make a big impact. It is not meant to be an exhaustive list, for there are other three word phrases that I love to hear. Some of my favorites include, “Let’s eat out” and “Yes, my Queen.” Oh, and probably the best one – “Love you forever!”

from For Your Marriage http://ift.tt/2ilFXOz http://ift.tt/1NctfYb