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[hamaylfabrics]

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[rabiulh99848860]

The Timeless Elegance of Women's Wedding Dresses: A Journey Through Styles and Trends

A wedding day is one of the most cherished and memorable occasions in a woman's life, and the wedding dress plays a central role in making this day truly special. From classic and traditional to modern and avant-garde, women's wedding dresses have evolved over the years, reflecting not only changing fashion trends but also cultural influences and individual preferences. In this article, we take a journey through the rich tapestry of women's wedding dresses, exploring the diverse styles and trends that have captured the hearts of brides around the world.

The Timeless Classics:

Classic wedding dresses have an enduring appeal that transcends generations. The ball gown, characterized by a full skirt and fitted bodice, is a timeless choice that exudes romance and grandeur. The A-line silhouette is another classic option, flattering a variety of body shapes with its fitted bodice that gradually flares out from the waist. These traditional styles often feature delicate lace, intricate beadwork, and elegant satin, creating a look that is both sophisticated and timeless.

Romantic Lace and Ethereal Tulle:

Lace has been a perennial favorite in wedding dress design, adding a touch of romance and femininity. From subtle, vintage-inspired lace detailing to bold, statement lace patterns, brides can choose from a wide range of options to suit their personal style. Tulle is another fabric that has become synonymous with romance in the world of bridal fashion. Often used in layering for skirts and veils, tulle creates a dreamy, ethereal effect that enhances the overall bridal aesthetic.

For any kind of bridal dresses, party dresses occasional dresses visit Mwish Store.

Modern Minimalism:

In recent years, there has been a noticeable shift towards modern and minimalist wedding dresses. Brides are increasingly drawn to clean lines, simple silhouettes, and sleek fabrics. Minimalist dresses often feature unique cuts, asymmetrical designs, and unexpected details, providing a contemporary twist to the traditional bridal look. This style is perfect for brides who appreciate understated elegance and want a dress that reflects their modern sensibilities.

Bohemian Chic:

Bohemian wedding dresses have gained popularity for brides seeking a free-spirited and laid-back vibe. Flowing fabrics, loose silhouettes, and floral embellishments define this style. Bohemian chic dresses are often characterized by their comfort and versatility, making them a popular choice for destination weddings or outdoor ceremonies. These dresses often incorporate elements such as fringe, crochet, and off-the-shoulder styles, creating a whimsical and bohemian aesthetic.

Bold Statements and Colored Dresses:

For the adventurous and unconventional bride, wedding dresses in non-traditional colors have become a trend in recent years. Blush pink, soft blue, and even black wedding dresses are making a statement, allowing brides to express their individuality and break away from tradition. Bold embellishments, dramatic trains, and unique detailing further contribute to creating a memorable and personalized bridal look.

Conclusion:

Women's wedding dresses continue to be a canvas for creativity, self-expression, and cultural influences. Whether brides opt for the timeless elegance of a classic ball gown, the romance of lace and tulle, the modern simplicity of minimalist designs, the free-spirited vibe of bohemian chic, or the bold statement of non-traditional colors, the world of bridal fashion offers a diverse array of options. Ultimately, a woman's wedding dress is a reflection of her personality, style, and the love story she is about to embark on, making it a symbol of the enduring beauty and individuality of each bride.

[zumaira]

Faiza Saqlain Nira Wedding Luxury Dresses 2023 For Women

[magazinepk]

Faiza Saqlain Nira Wedding Luxury Dresses 2023 For Women

[faisalabadfabricstoresblog]

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[useless-catalanfacts]

Hi, so as far as my family knows, our family name is Catalan, but we can't trace our family line before we moved to Cuba. So I was wondering if many Catalan people moved to Cuba when it became outlawed in Spain? Or in the times leading up to it being outlawed?

Thanks!

Hola!

Cuba is one of the countries with a largest Catalan diaspora. Catalan people were forbidden from going to the Americas (who were Castillian colonies) until the year 1778, and it still took a while for people to start going in large numbers.

Catalan people first migrated to Cuba in the 19th century, a few were rich people who went there for commerce (even involved in slave traffic! 😱) and soon more poor people started going, too, after their lives were turned upside-down by the phylloxera pest. Back then, in many parts of the Catalan Countries most people worked in the vineyard fields or related trades that had to do with winemaking, but in the mid-1800s the phylloxera (an insect from North America that destroys vineyards' roots) arrived to Europe and destroyed the fields. The effects of the phylloxera were absolutely devastating: thousands of people lost all their vineyards, whole areas lost their income, poverty reached the extreme. With the countryside ravaged, people desperately looked for new jobs, and many found that the only option was to emigrate. The vineyard-making rural areas suddenly lost population, who were going to the cities or abroad. Most of these Catalan farmers who went abroad went to Cuba, because it was seen as a land of opportunity where people could make a good living. Usually (and like many economical migrants nowadays), they had the idea that they would go, make money, and come back home, but (not unlike many economical migrants nowadays) most did not make that much money, and decided to stay in Cuba. Many Catalan immigrants in Cuba ran corner shops, they were so poor that they slept behind the shop's counter because they didn't have any other home than the shop. I have read that in 19th century Cuba, people even used the expression "to go to the Catalan on the corner" (el catalán de la esquina) or just "to go to the Catalan" (el catalán) to mean going to a corner shop (same as now many European countries say "to go to the Pakistani"). Besides these ones, a strong network of Catalan merchants also established itself in Cuba, trading with sugar and coffee.

Of course, the "corner Catalans" could not afford to come back, but the ones involved in slave trading or commerce with products grown by slaves often could. The poverty at home and the return of these rich people created the image of the "indiano" or "americano", meaning someone who had gone to Cuba (or, less commonly, Puerto Rico), had become rich, and had come back dressed in elegant fashionable clothes, the man smoking a thick cigar, and built a beautiful house in his hometown. The "indiano" became part of the collective imagination, and was a very prestigious person. These "indiano-style" buildings (they sent the command to start building the house from America, before coming back) and the presence of the "indianos" promoted the idea of Cuba as a place of opportunities even more. Still nowadays, in Catalan we have the expression "fer les Amèriques" ("to do the Americas") meaning to get very rich.

Examples of indiano houses in Begur and Cadaqués.

Examples of indiano houses in Sitges.

And the same happened the other way around a bit later: in Cuba, art nouveau was introduced in large part by Catalans, and the early houses built in this style were called "catalanadas" by Cubans.

In Sitges, there's even a pair of "giants" that represent these "indianos". "Giants" are a traditional element of Catalan folk culture, they're hollow figures that represent the mythical founders of a town or someone important from their local history or legends. In the case of Sitges (like in many more towns that used to be the border between Muslim and Christian kingdoms when they were founded), it's a pair of Muslim nobles and Christian nobles from the Middle Ages. But in the 1960s they decided to add another pair of smaller giants to represent the "indianos". This goes to show how the idea of the "indiano" almost as a mythical category has survived.

The "americanos" giants in Sitges.

For these reasons, there is a long list of famous Cubans of the Catalan diaspora, including the president of the first independent Cuban constitutional assembly (Asemblea de Guáimaro) Bartolomé Masó, Facund Bacardí (founder of the Bacardí rum company), the revolutionary and Cuban independence hero Leoncio Vidal, the musician and conductor Xavier Cugat, the poet José Martí, la reina del bolero Olga Guillot, the dancer Aurora Bosch, the anti-Fulgencio Batista intellectual Mario Llerena, the anarchist thinker Fernando Tarrida del Mármol and his uncle the Cuban independence general Donato Mármol, among others.

Besides Catalan-Cubans being involved in Cuban independence from the Spanish empire, they also were involved in the Catalan independence movement. For example, the flag of Catalan independence (estelada) was created in the early 1900s by a Catalan in Cuba, who used the triangle of the Cuban flag that means independence.

The Cuban flag and the Catalan independence flag.

The Catalan diaspora in Cuba also created the first "Casal Català" ("Catalan house") in 1840 in Habana. A Casal Català is a social centre where Catalan emigrants meet, for example to celebrate the Catalan holidays, and also open Catalan culture to other people, such as by offering Catalan classes. Nowadays, there are 128 Casals Catalans in all 5 continents.

Another way in which Cuba has had a deep mark in Catalan culture is the music genre havaneres, which are melancholic songs that fishermen, sailors and emigrants sang.

The other moment with a highest number of Catalan emigrants (refugees and exiles) was after the fascists' victory in the Spanish Civil War (1939), but few of them went to Cuba then. Most went to Mexico, Venezuela, and France, and some also to Chile, Argentina, Colombia, and to a lesser extent the UK and the USA.

[pascalscoffin]

Bad Idea

Full Pedro Masterlist

No this is not inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s song

Warnings: Minors Go Away I Will Kick You In The Forehead. Smut: unprotected p in v sex (do what you want, heathens); oral (f receiving); biting; Dieter gives a pussy she/her pronouns; “choking”; Dieters a menace. Reader works at the hotel and just can’t follow literally one of the only rules DONT FUCK THEM

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You never really fawned over celebrities before, you never really understood the hype, they were just normal people that made it onto tv more often than most normal people. Anyway, that’s what you used to think, but being the concierge of a fancy ass hotel in England quickly taught you otherwise.

Sure, celebrities wanted you to think they were normal, just regular people milling through their day with an annoying boss- their bosses were in fact annoying- but these people were far from normal, most of them had absolutely insane views, or requested absolutely ridiculous things from you or the other hotel workers. And they never fucking tipped. Ever.

So, the ‘do not fuck them’ rule was never really a problem for you, sure your favorite celebrity would come in, you’d get the butterflies and the nervous feelings- and then they opened their mouth and they were just… horrible, and any infatuation you’d had for them would be gone immediately.

When you heard a whole slew of them would be bubbling in the hotel you worked at, you seriously considered completely resigning from the job altogether and finding a new one, you didn’t want to be stuck in a hotel with those people for three months! Filling their ridiculous requests and making them feel good about themselves when they inevitably crash, because they always do.

Ronjon, though, had somehow managed to convince you not to, and now here you were, standing at the front desk of the hotel as the actors got taken care of outside before coming in. It was the Cliffbeasts cast and crew, Cliffbeasts, while it was an okay movie, ultimately did… nothing for you because you really would rather just go watch Jurassic Park.

Not to mention the cast of the Cliffbeasts movies made you want to shoot yourself in the face. Sean Knox was a “wellness guru” though something felt fishy there to you, like maybe he didn’t believe in it or something, or maybe like it was a cult. Carol Cobb.. you weren’t sure why you didn’t like her, she was a decent actress.. well despite that half-Pakistani half-Israeli role she’d recently done but you couldn’t really blame her for that… could you? Lauren Van Champ… you really really didn’t like Lauren, her nasally cry thing was annoying, her Cliffbeasts accent was just… too harsh, and her all around… everything just made you not like her. Her husband Dustin Mulray was a class A fucking asshole, drunk and disorderlies, screaming at old ladies, he was even seen flipping off a seven year old one time.

Krystal Kris was a new face to the movies, a young girl famous on TikTok for her choreography.. if you can call swaying your ass back and forth choreography. Howie Frangopolous was a good actor with some truly comedic gold lines, though a bit hot headed according to tabloids.

And then there was Dieter Bravo. Dieter was probably the only one that didn’t put on a show for people, didn’t try to make his life seem more or less fabulous, he didn’t dress up for anything that wasn’t a tv interview or an award show, though you figured if he could dress like a hobo to those things he probably would.

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You’d heard Dieter was a man whore, giving himself over to any woman or guy that was willing to lay under or on top of him. So, you expected him to be.. less than appropriate. Maybe a scandalous comment here and there, or sultry looks, you didn’t know, but you were determined to stick your ground and not fall into any traps.

That proved difficult, though, because it seemed like every time you went to Dieter’s room to collect a service tray, or bring him food or clean towels, he wanted a serving platter once and hasn’t returned it yet, he was pretty much fucking naked, door flung all the way open with his arms stretched out, sometimes in a bathrobe, other times in a wool brown robe you often thought about feeling anywhere on your skin that wasn’t your fingertips. Always with a cheeky, sexual grin as he tried to coax you into his chamber of pleasure, you’d decline with a comment about him having a fist and internet before practically sprinting away from him.

You’d tried not to be around him too much if you didn’t have to go to his room, feeling your resolve crack each time he’d flash you that stupid fucking smile that made your heart palpitate. The stars were having dinner together tonight though so you wouldn’t be able to avoid him like you’d hoped.

You walked over to him and Carol when you noticed he didn’t have any water and motioned to his water class with the pitcher in your hand. “Would you like some more?” Dieter looked over at you quickly and grinned over the top of his sunglasses. “Yes. Please.” He reached for his water quickly and extended it out to you, gazing up at you with those big brown eyes.

God you had to get away from him, away from this room, before your resolve completely shattered and you were begging him to just take you right then and there. Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea. Repeated in your head like a mantra as you poured his water and then rushed away from him, feeling your face start to warm up under his heated gaze.

Dieter stared at you like that all night, like he knew something you didn’t know and it was driving you crazy. At the end of the dinner you rushed to help clean everything up as the actors started to file out of the room. Dieter, though, hung by the entry way, watching you as you scampered around the dining area.

When you made your way out you stopped in front of Dieter and put on your most professional smile. “What can I get for you, Dieter.” Dieter looked down at you and tilted his head a little.

“Do you wanna have sex with me?” Your eyes widened and you jerked your head behind you to make sure your coworkers hadn’t heard, opening and closing your mouth before looking at Dieter. “That’s unprofessional, Dieter.” You stuttered, trying to move past him.

He followed you, though, and continued. “That wasn’t a no.” He looked at you and you sighed, shaking your head. “It’s a bad idea.” “Again, that’s not a no.” You sighed harder this time and stopped, turning to face him. “Do you actually want to have sex with me or just sex with something?” Dieter opened and closed his mouth and you raised a brow. “Find me with an answer and I’ll give you mine.” “Yours?” Dieter perked up and his eyes fell to your crotch. You scoffed and slapped under his chin. “My answer.” You rolled your eyes. “Now go to your room and take a cold shower or something.”

“Cold showers don’t work.” Dieter grumbled as he slouched away, bath robe swinging side to side with a big pout on his face. You shook your head and went back to doing your work, rubbing your wrist against your forehead.

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Two days later Dieter was asking for chocolate strawberries and rosé to be brought to his room- by you specifically. When you got to his room you tapped your knuckles against it and hummed as you waited for him to open the door.

When he opened it, he actually had pants on this time, well not pants, more like those dress shorts you usually hated on men but… they looked good on Dieter. And of course, he had on that brown robe again. He looked godly, really.

“Hi. Come in.” Dieter stepped to the side quickly and you raised a brow before stepping into the room a when he motioned you in before closing the door. You looked at the door, and then Dieter.

“I thought about what you said.” He nodded and sat on the sofa, patting the cushion next to him. This is a bad idea. Echoed in your head as you slowly set the strawberries and rosé down, sitting down next to him even slower as you pressed your hands into your skirt. “Okay…”

You didn’t actually expect him to think about it. You thought maybe he’d give up the chase and try to find someone else in the hotel or maybe finally cave in and just fuck his god damn fist- no such luck, though.

“I thought about it a lot. Like a lot. I haven’t slept. Well I slept but only for like thirty minutes and then I dreamt about it.” You blinked and motioned for him to continue. “Okay…” he nodded. “I wanna have sex with you. Anybody else is just confident. Around.” He shrugged. “Besides… I’ve wanted to taste you since the second I walked into the hotel.”

You widened your eyes a little and let out a little scoff. “What?” “That’s why I keep asking people if they wanna have sex. I keep thinking about you. About how your pussy would taste. How she looks. Fuck I bet she’s pretty.” His eyes are glued to your skirt now, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as you looked anywhere but at him because you had one sliver of resolve left and you could already feel it starting to slip away right into Dieter’s thick fingers for him to just completely obliterate.

“Dieter you can’t-“ Dieter was in your personal space now, practically sitting on you but not necessarily in your face or anything. “Bet she glitters like fucking gold when she’s all wet and waiting for somebody’s cock.” And then his hand is sliding under your skirt and his lips are on your neck. “I bet she’s soft and warm and tight. I bet she’ll flutter like a fucking butterfly when I finally let her cum.” And that was it.

You whined and grabbed Dieter’s wrist to push his hand under your skirt, taking a deep breath when his large warm hand settled over your panties, already wet with your arousal. Dieter groaned low in his chest before slipping his hand into your panties and resuming his assault on your neck, getting more aggressive.

“Need you to say it.” He shifted so he was turned towards you better. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.” He nipped at your jawline lightly, causing you to shudder as your eyelids fluttered, moaning softly. “Dieter- need you to fuck me. Please.” You scratched his forearm lightly. “Please.”

Dieter pulled away and was quickly tugging your blouse of your skirt and started yanking it over your head before kissing your chest, biting down on the flesh of your left breast. You yelped a little and looked down at him as he slid his tongue over the bite and grinned before lifting you up so he could unzip your skirt before tugging it down.

Once he had your clothes off and you were sitting there in your bra and panties, he stood up and put his hands on his hips, getting a good at you. “Fuck you look gorgeous.” He mumbled, licking his lips before leaning down and slamming his lips against yours.

You pushed into the kiss eagerly and let out a soft moan, grabbing his robe and pulling him down on top of you, pressing up against him. Dieter moaned happily and pressed his hips down into yours eagerly, letting out a shuttery breath.

“Gotta taste you. Fuck. I’ve been wanting to taste you.” He reached behind you to unhook your bra, nipping lightly at your nipples before trailing down your torso and to where he really wanted to be.

“She’s crying for me, baby. You shouldn’t deprive a lady of what she wants.” Dieter shook his head and pulled your panties down, groaning happily and closing his eyes before pressing his face deep into your pussy.

You gasped and looked down at him with wide eyes, moaning loudly and gripping the couch cushions tightly, trembling a little. “Dieter- fuck.” You pushed your hips up into his mouth and whined softly, looking down at him.

Dieter peered up at you through his lashes, humming happily and sucking on your clit like a pacifier. Your back arched as you gasped loudly, moaning as your eyelids fell shut, dropping your head back as you rocked your hips up into his mouth eagerly, your hands moving from the cushions to his hair when he slid his tongue into you and started fucking you with it.

You’d never really enjoyed oral before, most guys that tried were rushing so they could get to their prize, bury themselves in you and then never call you again. Dieter, though, Dieter ate pussy like his life absolutely depended on whether or not you came. His tongue massaged every inch eagerly but not too eager to the point where he was rushed and sloppy.

His movements were calculated, lips moving like he was having the most intense make out session, sloppy wet sounds mixing with his moans and groans, fingernails dug deep into your skin. He was actually enjoying it, his own hips pushing against the air as he looked up at you with those big brown eyes, whining and begging you to cum on his tongue.

It wasn’t long before your brows furrowed and your mouth fell open, her legs shaking and closing around his head as you came with a loud cry of his name, trembling a little and tangling your fingers tightly in the hair on the back of his head, keeping him in place even if he made no movements to pull away.

After a moment, though, he tapped your thigh and you felt your cheeks warm up more than they already. Your skin was practically on fire, already a little damp from the exertion. You slowly opened your legs and Dieter pulled up with a small gasp, panting softly as he grinned cheekily, face shiny with your juices.

You blinked rapidly as you looked at him and shifted a little. “Knew she tasted good. Taste.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours tightly, pulling you closer to him as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. You moaned happily and tangled your tongue with his. Dieter wasn’t really the type to wipe his face, instead opting for leaving your juices there, sliding his tongue wherever he could get it on his face before he was picking you up and carrying you over to his bed.

You yelped when he threw you down on it and laughed as you looked up at him. “Keep it on.” You said quickly when he went to take off the coat, raising a brow at you. “What?”

“I…” you huffed. “You come to the door naked in the coat constantly and you’re not gonna fuck me in it?” You pouted. “A little lack-luster if you ask me, Dieter.”

Dieter blinked and slowly let go of the coat with a grin, humming. “Alright.” He moved down to his shorts and undid them before pushing them down- commando- you expected nothing less from him.

“God I’ve been dreaming about this since I got here. Been wanting to bury myself in this warm pussy.” Dieter purred and kissed you deeply as he pushed your legs apart and slotted himself between them, grinding against you but not quite sliding in yet.

“Please, Dieter. Need you.” You begged, grabbing his shoulders under the jacket as you peered up at him, trying to tug him closer. “Can’t stop thinking about it. Please.”

Dieter grinned and chuckled a little as he started kissing your neck. “So impatient.” “Says the guys who’s been begging me to fuck him for three weeks.” Dieter laughed again and lifted up so he could watch as he grabbed the base of his dick and guided it into you slowly, groaning happily.

“Look at how hungry she is.” He mumbled softly, sliding his thumb over your clit slowly. “Swallowing me up so good. Didn’t even need to stretch her out.” He ran his hands over you slowly, pulling out and then sliding back in, groaning. “God it looks so pretty. Fuck. Got me all soaked already.” He dropped his head back as he bottomed out, eyelids fluttering as he closed them.

“Dieter~” you whimpered, you were honestly surprised you hadn’t needed any stretching, Dieter was definitely the biggest guy you’d been with, not in just one aspect but individually you’ve been with men that compared either girth wise or length wise. But you’d never been with someone as long and as girthy as Dieter, your legs shook as you hooked them around his waist, sliding under the coat as you whined.

“Fuck you feel so good.” Dieter groaned into your neck, starting to bite and suck on your neck. “Harder- Dieter, harder. Please.” You begged him, tugging him closer and leaning up to kiss him eagerly as he started fucking into you harder, huffing softly.

“Listen to you, baby. You sound so fucking pretty- fuck- gonna have to keep you around huh?” He kissed your jaw lightly, nudging his nose against your cheek lightly. “Would you like that? You can come live with me in Sherman Oaks, have your own room- fuck- your own house if you want one. Never have to work again just be my little play thing- fuuuck.” Dieter whimpered when your nails dug into his shoulders, a gasp falling from your lips when he brushed your gspot.

“Dieter-“ “aww I know, sweet girl.” Dieter purred, kissing your cheek gently. “Feels good, huh?” He angled his hips to hit your gspot with each thrust, groaning with the way you were fluttering around him, shuddering as you nodded your head rapidly. “Yes. Fuck it feels so good, Dieter.” You whined, rocking your hips with his before gasping when he shoved your hips down into the mattress.

“Stay still, sweet girl. You just sit there, look pretty, and feel good.” Dieter hummed, nipping lightly at your jawline as you nodded eagerly, not even sure what you were agreeing to as you felt his thumb press into your clit, the rest of his hand splayed over your mons pubis, his fingertips grazing your midriff as your head fell back, the pressure of his hand pressing down caused everything to feel ten times stronger than it already did.

You looked up at Dieter and saw him watching his hand with an astonished look on his face. “W-why are you making that face?” You whimpered softly as Dieter chuckled. “Can feel my dick through your stomach, gorgeous.” He licked his lips. “Fuck. Let me keep you, baby. Please.” He begged, looking from your stomach to your eyes.

“Wanna be able to fuck this pretty pussy whenever I want to. God.” He dropped his head back for a second and snapped his hips harder into you. “Gonna let me? Please, please, please.” He moaned and pressed his hand harder against your stomach, making you whimper and scream his name as that coil in your stomach snapped and heat spread across your body, legs tightening around Dieter to pull him closer.

“Fuck- yes, Dieter. Don’t ever wanna stop doing this.” You whined and arched your back. Dieter gasped softly and moaned before leaning down and kissing you eagerly, moaning and pushing his tongue into your mouth as he came, pushing deep inside you as his muscles shook.

You slid your arms through the jacket and wrapped them tightly around Dieter’s middle to keep him close, nudging his nose against your cheek before covering you in kisses and little licks like he was a kitten.

You laid like that for a while, Dieter keeping himself hovered over you as he smothered you in kisses. Slowly, he moved off of you and laid next to you, laying on his side so he can look at you, a dopey smile on his face.

You felt a little awkward under his stare, slowly starting to fold your arms over your chest until he stopped you, grabbing your arms and pulling you close to him, kissing your knuckles. “Did you mean it?” He asked curiously and you looked at him, furrowing your brows. “About moving to Sherman Oaks with me.” He lifted on his elbow, looking down at you a little giddy as his fingertips drew patterns on your stomach, trailing up your chest and to your neck before grabbing it lightly at the sides.

“Want you to move in with me. Be my little housewife.” He bit his lip as he ran his eyes over your face, he looked a little nervous. You swallowed thickly, opening and closing your mouth before you nodded slowly.

“Okay.” You said softly. The idea of living with Dieter did seem nice, especially if this was something that was going to happen on any kind of basis, day to day or otherwise. “I wanna live with you.”

He perked up and grinned widely. “Yeah?” He shifted so he was sitting up now, his hand pressed down against your collarbone as you laughed softly and nodded, cheeks warm. “Yeah.”

Dieter grinned and leaned in to kiss you deeply, you yelped a little and giggled as you kissed him back, closing his eyes and laying your hands on his cheeks. “Good.” He laid beside you again, pulling you tight against his side as he nuzzled your neck, slinging his other arm around you and hugging you tightly.

You didn’t peg him for the cuddling type, though now that you were wrapped up in the octopus-like limbs of Dieter Bravo, it made sense he would cling to you like this, physical touch seemed to be a big thing for him, something he was always craving.

On some sort of sub-level you understood, being an only child with parents that would rather work and drop you with nannies you knew all about not getting the love and affection children craved and required.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Maybe you and Dieter could be good for eachother.

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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

[papirouge]

I have an unpopular christian opinion but idk if it’s really that unpopular but here it goes - fundamental christians aren’t christ like and I suspect many don’t really have a solid relationship with god. I’m from USA and when I say fundie I mean the Duggar types. If anyone isn’t familiar with duggars, they are a very strict family of christians but usually these types of families like to ignore actual issues in the family for the sake of appearances. In this case, it was sexual abuse by the older brother towards his own sisters. The oldest brother was caught by the fbi for having one of, if not, the WORST child p0rn ever produced on his laptop. Even the investigators were so disturbed by it they needed a break. The brother felt no remorse and expected forgiveness despite being a literal pedophile. He was sentenced and jailed, and yet I’ve seen radical christians online (like that Lori Alexander for example)call for his release and lessen his crimes as being “foolish” but “Christ forgives all” but will continue to say how children need to be protected. but I guess when the predator is one of their own, they want to ignore that. His own wife is standing by him despite having children… to forgo your own children’s safety for the sake of keeping a rotten marriage to a pedophile that got pleasure from seeing babies be tortured is not christ-like or even biblical. What the fuck is wrong with them

I've said it and I'll say it again : US Christians are the weakest link of the body of Christ.

It's crazy how worldwide Christiandom will collectively agree on things (such as refusing violence) but somehow US evangelicals act like snowflakes that can't be reasoned while pretending they are the ones to get it right.

I've watched countless of videos/testimony of Christians across the world. Sometimes, they came from places where Christianity was illegal. They had to deal with the most awful treatment, and sometimes torture or death. And what always struck is that while they NEVER retaliated with violence (because they were authentically saved) crazy/supernatural things happened to them to protect them from their oppressor.

I'm thinking about that new convert from middle east that was sequestered & chained by his own father, and when his father decided to finally kill him there's been a blinding light, his chains were gone and he could escape (it reminded me of Paul & Silas in prison).

Or that (indian or Pakistani) new convert girl who was arrested with her (illegal) church by the Islamic authorities, they killed a bunch of them (martyrs) and that she heard an angel tell her how to escape.

Or that Nigerian man screaming "the blood of Jesus" while being hunted by militias with guns, that managed to escape thanks to some divine intervention.

Or a woman in Africa who was being sexually assaulted and by the testimony one of the men who tried to assault her (and later repented), her dress turned "metal like"(???) and they were unable to undress her, saving her from rape.

And I heard of countless of stories like that..

BECAUSE God PROTECTS His children.

And if God decides to let you die by the hand of the unrighteous that's ALSO His will and we have to humbly accept it. A question that so many pro gun/pro violent retaliation Christians NEVER managed to answer is : Stephen and John the Baptist died as martyr without defending themselves. Countless of Christians of the early church died at the hand of roman authorities oppressing/torturing/killing them for their faith. They still didn't violently resist. WHAT MAKES YOU BELIEVE YOU'RE SPECIAL AND THAT *YOU* SHOULD DEFEND YOURSELF? It's always cricket after that.

Or their hypocrisy of seething against this fallen world while being willing to disobey God to keep.... living down there?? Real Christian grasp that death is actually a deliverance. Why do you think Paul longed for death?

I think that's what so many USAmericans have such a hard time to understand : they come from such a barbaric dominative culture that constantly overpowered others with its violence they cannot accept the vulnerability that Christianity encompasses.

Yes, we may die by the sword of our ennemies. That's what God expects from us. Trying to argue over it shows that not only they do NOT understand the message of Christ, but also that they are not as fearful of God as they pretend because you do NOT argue the orders of someone you fear.

[aarizaan]

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[septembersghost]

It was a last-minute impulse purchase. Two hours before showtime, I watched resale prices finally begin to fall for the extremely sold-out opening night of Taylor Swift's six-night "residency" at Los Angeles' SoFi stadium. Even as a non-Swiftie, it has been impossible not to follow the feverish local coverage of international pilgrimages, friendship bracelet-making, and traffic warnings. But that split-second pop culture purchase was, for me, pure irrationalism.

With no fringe or Eras-themed ensembles in my closet, I rushed to my single seat through a sea of sequined, screaming squads with trepidation and a dull white button-down. Would I, a fortysomething South Asian man with passing knowledge of Swfitism be identified as an unwelcome interloper? Instead, my very gracious neighbor schooled me on how to wear my allotted LED bracelet, and soon I was alight in the same neon pink as the sea of humanity around us, Swift finally emerging out of parallel technicolor hues. The big tent revival swept away any fears, differences, doubts.

For three and a half hours, I too was part of the zeitgeist – a final chapter in a summer of spectacular pop culture revival led by three women at the peak of their powers.

Greta Gerwig, Beyoncé Knowles-Carter, and Taylor Swift have been the bona fide superstars of this American summer, transcending their own previous triumphs to reach unprecedented new heights.

#HotGirlSummer is now more specifically #BillionGirlSummer, with Barbie already the first woman-directed film to gross more than a billion dollars and Beyoncé and Swift's dual stadium tours estimated to gross similarly dizzying amounts, each pumping even more into fledgling local economies around the country.

In a city without a center and isolating car culture, for one week Taylor Swift transformed LA's stadium into a cathedral – an in-person congregation for hundreds of thousands. Soon Beyoncé will bring her roving "Renaissance" to the same stadium for three nights. Across Los Angeles, cinemas are still packed with squads of women and let's not deny it, many men – dressed in 50 shades of pink laughing and crying alongside Barbie's quest to become whole again.

[...]

It's been impossible to avoid the incessant social media coverage of this trinity of pink extravaganzas. Even my Pakistani immigrant father is texting me about how to join the Verified fans waitlist for Taylor's next dates. Despite the exorbitant prices for concert tickets, travel and even local movie theater outings – not to mention endless product tie-ins for all manner of merchandise — is this feverish demand simply consumer madness? Is it the cumulative decline of seriousness and taste that pretentious critics lament?

The answer is a resounding no. The hype surrounding Barbie, Beyoncé's Renaissance, and Taylor's Eras tour is commensurate with the sheer amount of resources, time and attention so many Americans of all races, genders and ages are devoting to being part of this moment. Critical acclaim has followed each of these works, layers of meaning are being made. They are an undeniable triumph of women's creativity and ownership. Nobody I know of is asking for refunds.

At a deeper level, the roaring return of big tent monoculture follows the ennui of lockdowns. It is pop at its collective and connective best – the very opposite of the culture that has defined the recent past – a splintered, atomized state of streaming individualism that seemed to be a permanent new state of affairs. The promise of streaming allowed for a kind of hyper-specificity that ensured incessant algorithm based devotion to the platform of delivery. Insularity, it turns out, has its limits. With at-home viewing no longer the only medium for entertainment, I'm certainly not alone in craving the very opposite.

[...] In the communal ecstasy of sold-out Barbie screenings and stadium séance of Beyhives and Swifties – the mood is strategic and intentional inclusion.

What Gerwig, Swift and Carter-Knowles have created in each of their new masterworks are gated dreamworlds. Swift in her moss-covered cottage of Americana folklore turns stadiums into fireside chats for any romantic, Beyoncé's House of Chrome is a black queer club as a spaceship of alien superstars soaring above the fray – and Barbieland is a pastry inversion of the real-world's patriarchy.

There are serious political undercurrents to all this, but the mood at the experiential level is buoyant, escapist and even comedic. Hovering on the distant horizon are Presidential elections and reminders of climate catastrophe but here is a ticketed invitation to get dressed, join the festivities and for the duration, release the wiggle, to quote the "Renaissance."

The closing note of each of these spectacles is a kind of transfer of energy, exuberance and American optimism that has been absent from public and cultural life for years.

Winter is of course coming. But in the interim, there has been a remarkable sense of sunshine this summer. Even those not in attendance have felt the afterglow of the women at its center. Not a cruel, but a communal, collective, and yes, glorious summer.

[mushq-official]

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