#Find your identity and worth in Jesus

[traumacatholic]

If I may request a prayer, I keep encountering queerphobic bigotry online as I try to genuinely explore my faith in Christ. It hurts and feels so discouraging.

Of course! I'm so sorry that you've experienced this. I definitely do know a lot of online spaces can be very hostile and toxic. For what it's worth, I have generally found that offline spaces are a lot more welcoming. People seem to be a lot friendlier, and it's unfortunately such a contrast with how online spaces can be - especially when people feel that their identity is hidden and that they're untouchable.

Here is a prayer that is typically said while looking upon the Theotokos the Softener of Evil Hearts Icon:

Soften our evil hearts, O Theotokos, and quench the attacks of those who hate us and loose all the rigidity of our soul. For looking on thy holy image we are filled with compunction by thy suffering and loving-kindness for us, and we kiss thy wounds; we are filled with horror for the darts with which we wound thee. Let us not, O Mother of Compassion, because of the cruelty of our hearts, perish from the cruelty of heart of those near us. For thou art in truth the softener of evil hearts.

Here is a prayer for our enemies:

Lord Jesus Christ, Who didst command us to love our enemies, and those who defame and injure us, and to pray for them and forgive them; Who Thyself didst pray for Thine enemies who crucified Thee: Grant us, we pray, the spirit of Christian reconciliation and meekness, that we may heartily forgive every injury and be reconciled with our enemies. Grant us to overcome the malevolence and offences of people with Christian meekness and true love of our neighbor. We further beseech Thee, O Lord, to grant to our enemies true peace and forgiveness of sins; do not allow them to leave this life without true faith and sincere conversion. And help us repay evil with goodness, and to remain safe from the temptations of the devil and from all the perils which threaten us, in the form of visible and invisible enemies. Amen.

And here is a prayer for protection:

O Lord, our God, pre-existing before all ages and remaining forever; who are as great in compassion as you are in uncontainable power; who because of your ineffable mercy bowed the heavens, came down on earth and became man for the salvation of sinners; who put on and immortalized our nature and ascended with it to the place from which you descended; hear from heaven and become merciful to all those who cry out to you with a broken heart. You, O Master of all, lend you ear and hear us. We know your undefeatable love for your creation and your inexhaustible goodness. Hence, we throw ourselves into the ocean of your compassions and entreat you: turn not your face from us nor cast us away from your countenance neither hand us over to those who are so furiously attacking us. Look upon us with your compassionate eye. Show us how to rise above both the visible and invisible enemies. Place in us a power from on high; encompass us with your almighty right hand; keep us under the protection of your wings; fortify us with love for one another and grant us unshakable peace. But before all and above all, instill in us your fear and your love that your holy name may also be glorified in us. Upon you alone we look, on you alone we have placed our hopes, and to you we send up the glory, together with your Father, who is without beginning, and the life-creating Spirit, now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

And here is another prayer you might find comforting:

Almighty God, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, come to my help and deliver me from this difficulty that besets me. I believe Lord, that all trials of life are under Your care and that all things work for the good of those who love You. Take away from me fear, anxiety and distress. Help me to face and endure my difficulty with faith, courage and wisdom. Grant that this trial may bring me closer to You for You are my rock and refuge, my comfort and hope, my delight and joy. I trust in Your love and compassion. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

[grandpa-spooks]

After leaving a lifetime of Christianity a few months ago, I am only just now starting to feel human.

There’s a popular verse in the Bible that talks about denying yourself, picking up your cross, and dying daily for Jesus. It’s been used to encourage suppression of desires, critical thought, and even being myself by my parents and religious mentors for as long as I can remember. When everything had to be centered around religion, I never got to explore who I was. My identity was decided and my life was set in stone.

It has only been just now that I got to explore what life is really like when you have the ability to find joy in anything. And you know what? For the first time, I actually understand the blessing of being human. Humanity is often seen as a vice and a problem in Christianity. But now, I’m finding joy in language and culture and sexuality and relationships (romantic AND platonic) and history and spirituality and music and feeling. So many before me have stood on this very spot above Paris and felt like a thousand stars burned in their soul. So many before me have danced and sang and wept and screamed and experienced so much. We are resilient and vibrant and we live. Just being human leaves me with this legacy, and I have found it is more than enough.

I find the little things worth celebrating now. Yes, even the things that have nothing to do with Jesus. Yes, even the things Christianity hates (like my sexuality as an unmarried person). Life is beautiful and valued and mine. I am my own, and I share something sacred with those who came before me, Christian or not. When I die, I will be okay with it, for I have truly lived and felt the blessing that is being here.

And I never would have reached this place with Christianity. Honestly I find that thought scary, but I also consider it the greatest gift that I am free to experience life fully now.

[who-goes-there]

Is it weird to say that, under different circumstances, I think Fugo and Trish would be besties?

Aside from Bruno, I would probably say that Trish is the most levelheaded of the group (I would count Giorno too, but he has a track record of doing dumb shit the second he’s left to his own devices and just barely surviving). Fugo obviously has a huge ass temper, so it would definitely be a good mix considering Trish’s general ability to compartmentalize to hell and back (Jesus man, we only see her break down ONCE and that was with her having her mother just die, get handed around like a hot potato by weird mafia guys, before having to ride around in a goddamn turtle with a NEW group of weird mafia guys, all the while being chased and having attempts made on your life, AND while still not having met the elusive father who had abandoned you until now).

That said, despite being a generally calm person, Trish still doesn’t take shit from ANYONE. She knows her worth and she’ll be damned if you don’t know it too by the time she’s finished. So when Fugo does, inevitably, fly off the handle, she wouldn’t just sit there and take it.

They both also have a ‘dear god, when will this nightmare end’ type of vibe whenever the rest of the group does dumb shit that matches each other identically (and while Abba does too, he has an extra bit of jaded hatred for the world at large that they lack, because despite the many traumas they’ve both endured, Trish and Fugo are, in the end, scared, angry teenagers).

Plus, both Trish and Fugo have had a… rocky at best relationship with most of the adults they’ve encountered in their lives. Fugo’s backstory is heartbreaking and I don’t want to recount it, but it echoes the distinct lack of trust in authority figures that Trish develops as the story continues too. You might be thinking I’m insane for saying this, but just think about it. She has been thrown around from violent stranger to violent stranger until Bruno’s group gets her, and from there she experiences nothing but horrifying battles until she goes to meet her pops, when we see her break down and confess her fear of meeting her father and being rejected or hated or anything else. This is her letting down her guard and actively trusting Bruno, the first adult she HAS trusted since this began, and it is immediately followed by her getting snatched up by her dad and than waking up with her fuckin’ wrist zippered on, now on the run with everyone but Fugo.

Again, I would also go into why Fugo struggles to trust adults/authorities too, but his story bums me out too much and I don’t want to do that to myself needlessly lol.

This brings up another facet that they share, one that I find they both get a TON of hate for. Both Fugo and Trish have (comparatively) good instincts for self preservation, something that literally everyone else is in sore need of. People have called Trish a coward, or weak for not fighting much besides that one fight, but I would say that this is probably the smartest thing someone in her position could do. Trish discovers the fact that she even HAS a fucking stand DURING THE FIGHT. She barely knows how it works, she’s like fifteen, never had to fight a day in her life, and facing an enemy who could genuinely cause the apocalypse if it went undefeated. OFC she’s not gonna charge out there guns blazing!!!! She would DIE. So. Fast. Trish knows her limits. She knows her capabilities and she knows that if she tries passing them, than she’ll get fucking wrecked and everyone else’s sacrifices were for nothing!!!

Fugo is the same! I’ve seen him called a coward, or a heartless asshole for abandoning the gang after the whole thing with Trish meeting Diavolo, but this is just a healthy sense of self preservation, AGAIN. He barely knows this chick, and you expect him to embark on a journey that will almost certainly end with him pushing up daisies? I think the not. It’s not that he’s heartless, hell, his whole thing is about struggling to suppress his emotions! It’s not that he’s a coward. He’s been doing dangerous, dumb shit for years at this point! It’s that he literally just didn’t want to die for some bratty (in his mind) girl who had been nothing but rude and cold to him.

Anywaysssss. This has been my ted talk on why Trish and Fugo would get along like a house aflame if the circumstances were different… thanks for reading?

[commsroom]

I’ve been taking personality quizzes for podcast characters (long story) and I’ve completely forgotten if there’s anything in wolf 359 that’d indicate how eiffel would answer questions about religion? (And if not I’d still love to hear your thoughts of course)

okay! good question. short answer: ... with mild irreverence?

in memoria, minkowski is frustrated with eiffel over thanksgiving dinner because "we haven't even said grace yet" to which eiffel replies: "rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub. let's eat!"

in deep breaths, you get: "there’s other things happening asides from sanitized pagan rituals" and "i’ll be able to light my cigarette without lighting the air around me on fire. the way that baby jesus intended."

in the empty man cometh, when everyone's freaking out, you can hear eiffel say the lord's prayer, but, um. well, you can find that full clip here, and it's described as "what a panicked eiffel thinks the lord's prayer sounds like." i think it's probably worth noting that the lord's prayer is commonly said in movies, and he... well, he adds his own spin to it? either he doesn't know the words, or doesn't care. ... likely both?

my read is that eiffel has internalized some (pop) culturally christian influences without realizing it, as a secular american guy who was raised by television and surrounded by christian culture, but he wasn't raised religious and doesn't believe in god. he can be a little superstitious, though, even if he feels he should know better and is embarrassed by that, and he's not too proud to try praying if that's what it comes to. i think his family probably celebrated christmas, in the "secular" way, and he either got a combined birthday-christmas gift or he got one actual gift and one gift of socks.

more speculatively, i like to personally think eiffel had at least one set of jewish grandparents, whether or not he knew them. minkowski strikes me as being from an interfaith family, it aligns well with her personal conflicts about faith, culture, and assimilation, and i like when eiffel and minkowski have something in common, but with completely incompatible approaches. minkowski struggles with her sense of identity. eiffel's response is more or less a resounding shrug.

i don't think eiffel would make being an atheist a big part of his personality or anything, he's not exactly smug in the way that implies, but he does have a bit of that "oh, so we all have to do what you say because an invisible guy in the sky says so?" brand of atheism within him. eiffel thinks the flying spaghetti monster stuff is funny.

[talenlee]

How To Be: Baiken (in 4e D&D)

In How To Be we’re going to look at a variety of characters from Not D&D and conceptualise how you might go about making a version of that character in the form of D&D that matters on this blog, D&D 4th Edition. Our guidelines are as follows:

This is going to be a brief rundown of ways to make a character that ‘feels’ like the source character

This isn’t meant to be comprehensive or authoritative but as a creative exercise

While not every character can work immediately out of the box, the aim is to make sure they have a character ‘feel’ as soon as possible

The character has to have the ‘feeling’ of the character by at least midway through Heroic

When building characters in 4th Edition it’s worth remembering that there are a lot of different ways to do the same basic thing. This isn’t going to be comprehensive, or even particularly fleshed out, and instead give you some places to start when you want to make something.

Another thing to remember is that 4e characters tend to be more about collected interactions of groups of things – it’s not that you get a build with specific rules about what you have to take, and when, and why, like you’re lockpicking your way through a design in the hopes of getting an overlap eventually. Character building is about packages, not programs, and we’ll talk about some packages and reference them going forwards.

The random Arc Systems Works round start text generator I use for these characters has broken, perhaps a victim of link rot, or some change in pastebin structure. For whatever reason, goodnight sweet prince, THE FRIDGE IS EMPTY, round the FIRST, eat SHIT!

Examining Baiken

I love Guilty Gear characters. Their lore is both extremely simple and straightforwards (Baiken is a disabled samurai who dedicated her life to pursuing the man who maimed her and burned her home) and also completely unhinged (she’s a samurai who was born in 2187 on the Japanese Human Containment Reserve, and the man she’s dedicated herself to hunt is one of two men, and one of them is Jesus from the 90s that invented magic).

What’s more, this breadth of narrative and aesthetic space feels like it should result in incoherent characters inventing new powers as the story demands. When you have a magical girl podcaster and a sentient bed side by side in a narrative, one of those is probably going to be producing effects the other thinks is impossible, and eventually, something has to give. Pleasantly, though, Guilty Gear characters have a consistent and coherent mechanical identity across the decades the franchise has existed.

Baiken’s concept space, her lore, is ridiculous, but every time we’ve seen her, she’s been a Samurai lady with one arm, a big sword, and a chain. She’s tough, so some kind of a tank, she is defensive, she has the option of using a shield or not, she has a dash, she has punishment, and she has a big scary melee hit if you leave her alone. Baiken controls the air in front of her and she has reach.

Here’s a place where the limitations of Dungeons & Dragons and non-Dungeons & Dragons conversations kick in, because it’s not clear if Baiken is strong. I couldn’t find any records of her deadlifting things, or pushing heavy objects, but she does also walk around with a bag of metal chains as a toy to fling at people. That means it’s unclear how her melee combat works – I assume she’s ‘Strong’ but that doesn’t mean she has to have a good ‘Strength’ score.

There is a bit of a problem with her defense. Baiken is not wearing what is obviously armour, but she is covering up a lot of metal (in the form of all those chains). You could use this to justify heavy armour (and I do).

The Basics

Hey, first up, let’s talk about playing a character with a disability!

If you follow this series (?!), this is a restating of material first presented in How To Be: Amaya from Dragon Prince, where I said:

Disability is not transactional. You do not get bonuses for limiting your character in a particular way and you do not need mechanics to assert that limitation. The game rules indicate that a character can move through a space, navigate daily life and cope entirely with the space around them in a standardised way, and that any given character you play is capable of doing those things. This means if your character lacks a major sensory capacity or has a mobility limitation, even with that incorporated they can navigate life at the same standard as other characters. If your character has a base movement of 6, then that character in a wheelchair still has a base movement of 6. How? I don’t know, ask them, they’re clearly really good at using that wheelchair to get around!

Remember that your characters can already be taller or shorter or harder of hearing or shortsighted or longsighted and the game rules do not impose limitations on you because you have ‘more or less’ of a physical capacity. The game rules are for handling the function of game entities within a fictionalised space, and the fiction is an explanation for how those functions work. If your character has deafness, then that is part of the fiction, and it is merely a little bit less than a character who is hard of hearing. Use the fiction to tell the story, and look to the rules to resolve disputes, not to create that fiction.

With that in mind: Baiken has one arm. But I’m going to talk about her wielding two-handed weapons or wielding a weapon and shield (more on the shield later). In D&D games, a character has two ring slots, and two hand slots, and they can wield a weapon in one hand or two hands. That they have this is, however, not contingent on them having two actual hands. The game has no mechanical way to represent losing an arm.

What’s more, since people disabilities adjust their lives and relationships to their bodies to compensate, it seems a simple concession to accept that while it may not make sense for Baiken to be able to hold an orange in each hand, there’s nothing in the game rules that suggest she shouldn’t be able to hold two oranges somehow.

Glossary Note: Conventionally, the term used in D&D for this mechanical package is race. This is the typical term, and in most conversations about this game system, the term you’re going to wind up using is race. For backwards compatibility and searchability, I am including this passage here. The term I use for this player option is heritage.

As far as heritage and stats go, since her stat choices are functionally free, you can pick any heritage that gives you stats to meet the needs of your class. More on those in each entry.

Baiken uses a big tatami mat as a ‘block’ – she can make an attack that throws a mat up from the ground in front of her, by stomping on it. This is sick as hell but it also serves as an example of a defensive shield she can move around with, and she even uses it to control an area. To that end, each of these builds is going to work with the assumption that they need to work for a big two hander like a greatsword or a sword and shield build. A third option is a kusari-gama, which costs a feat, but adds reach and defensiveness to the character, which does feel appropriate.

If you want to focus on the chain element of the character, that reach becomes more meaningful. If you want to focus on the single target punishment, then you want your main hits to be very strong, which means, big two hander. If you want to be able to do tatami mat style blocking, you want to focus on sword-and-board. Easy enough choice to make.

Build 1 – Just A God Damn Fighter

The Fighter build is the easiest of all of these to work with because the fighter is the class that is already built around punishing mark violation. It’s the toughest tank, it’s the tank with the least nonsense around what it can do, and it’s the tank with the best access to cool weapon-based malarkey.

What Baiken struggles with if she’s a fighter is a breadth of abilities. You might want that; to you, the samurai element of her may be an aesthetic. On the other hand, if you like the idea of Baiken as this kind of renaissance woman with a variety of cultural insights, you may want to multiclass bard to pick up the feat Jack of All Trades, to diminish the lack of ability she has in educated fields.

Good heritages are Muls, Dwarves (ick) and Humans.

Build 2 – Swords and Shields Of LIght

I like the weapon-based, strength-focused Paladin a lot for punishment stacking builds. Punishment stacking is something that Paladins are especially good at, so in short, it’s finding ways to make it so multiple different things trigger when your opponents violate your mark. It’s a form of control, and it’s best done with minimal effort.

Consider, if you take the power Ardent Strike, and you hit an enemy with it, they are subject to your Divine Sanction. If you also Combat Challenge them, they are subject to that, too. Therefore, if they violate that by attacking someone else, you get to retaliate at them for Sanction damage (3+Charisma damage) and Divine Challenge damage (3+Charisma damage). What’s more you can also add in the Guardian theme, so now that violating that mark gets you a basic attack as well.

To make punishment stacking work, though, you then need to make it so attacking you is useless; you need to have a high armour class, so your enemy can feel like they’re wasting their time. There are a lot of routes to this, but my favourite is what I call the Virtue Sponge build. You take the utility power Virtue, and the neck item Amulet of Life. This lets you start fights with a huge block of temporary hit points, at the cost of 2 surges, and when you have that many temp hit points, it’s very easy for enemies to feel they need to leave you alone until everyone can focus you down. They want you to suffer from AMFAD (wait how have I never written an article about All My Friends Are Dead), basically.

Good heritages: Dwarf (ick), Half-Orcs, and Humans.

Build 3 – Strike As Golden Claws!

Where the Paladin fails to deliver the Baiken vibes is mobility. If you want to move forward so fast people don’t see you cross the intervening space, then you need the teleporting goodness that is the lightning-rush swinging time-warping action economy punishment monster, The Battlemind.

Hey here’s a fun argument to start with your DM (which you should only do if it’s a fun thing and you’re okay with having the conversation once). If you Lightning Rush an enemy who’s making a ranged attack, you teleport next to them, then you become the target of the attack. That means that someone just made a ranged attack against you while you threaten them. Do you get an attack of opportunity on them?

(Probably not, but if your DM allows it, recognise that they are probably erring in your favour and don’t be a big asshole about it if they later realise it’s a problem and want to take it away.)

The Battlemind is tough and wants to have its secondary stat choices for wisdom, or charisma. Mind Spike isn’t the most amazing punishment available leading up to when you can take Lightning Rush but once you can take lightning rush, it’s very good. In fact, you can also grab Forceful Reversal to play full Baiken version – someone hits your ally, you teleport next to them and kick them in the face. Someone hits you? You kick them in the face so hard they can’t get up for six seconds. The worst thing about this is that you wind up with a build that wants to lock in two of its three At-Will attacks at level 9, which can make later game powers a problem. Of course, humans and half-elves get to cheat that.

Good heritages: Dwarf (ick!), Humans, Mul, Tieflings.

Junk Drawer

Any class that can rely on weapon attacks and interrupt attacks has something of the Baiken vibe that can transfer over. While not every weapon class has an interrupt attack like that, there are still a few. The Ranger gets Disruptive Strike (level 3). The Swordmage gets Frost Backlast (level 1, but a daily). There’s even the Escaped Slave theme that can, if you really want, pick up the power Turn the Tables (level 5, daily), though I wouldn’t, because it’s not very strong compared to other forms of punishment available.

There’s also the Ardent, benefitting from provoking attacks of opportunity with the Mantle of Recklessness, which can have some of the same feeling of baiting people into attacking you, and the Infernal Wrath ability of the Tiefling opens up some stacking punishments with the right feat support. None of these are in my opinion the best option, but between punishment and a single large weapon, they can all be made to feel Baiken-y.

One other place you can look is the Cavalier and Knight, which are both Essentials classes with some very robust, standardised basic attack patterns. This has the character of Baiken as a standard, modest attacker who has a big punishment effect. On the other hand, they’re also, never my first choices for a character unless there’s something very specific I need to make the concept work (like the werebear).

Conclusion

Baiken is a perfect character for this kind of project. The main way you know anything about her is watching her fight, and watching her fight means you have a clear idea of how she does something. With that in mind, the fantasy of her combat style can extend into every aspect of her character. The actual choreography of combat is exciting and interesting, but it’s also hard to explain to people without a clear visual in your own mind.

Watching how she fights gives you a blank canvas into which you can project all sorts of inner life, a way of being that she thinks that this way of presenting herself is the right way to do it. Maybe she’s intuitive and fluid; maybe she’s infinitely calculating. Maybe there’s a part of her that thinks and moves like a chaotic predator, and maybe she’s struggling with multiple conflicting wants for her presentation and her behaviour. When the time comes to draw your sword, all the things you may want to do are pared down to what you must, real quick.

Also, boobs honkers jugs jubblies rack tits.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[queerprayers]

Hello! I'm a genderfluid Christian and I'm currently trying to discern whether going on HRT would be a good idea, both in terms of whether it would be worth the inconvenience and whether it would be glorifying to God. Do you have any recommendations?

(For a long time, I was comfortable in my gender without it, but a few months ago something shifted and now I can't stop thinking about it. I would ask a pastor, but I'm between churches at the moment; the Baptist church I went to for many years, despite its many good qualities, is not at all affirming, and I'm still in the process of finding a better spiritual home, which is further complicated by the fact that I am nocturnal.)

Thank you for running this blog, by the way. It means a lot to me.

Hello, beloved! I will do my best and I'm so glad you're here.

I hope you've heard this quote from Daniel M. Lavery, but just in case you haven't: "As my friend Julian puts it, only half winkingly: 'God blessed me by making me transsexual for the same reason God made wheat but not bread and fruit but not wine, so that humanity might share in the act of creation.'"

Another quote from that book (Something That May Shock and Discredit You, which I highly recommend) that comes to mind is “Trying not to transition was the hardest work in the world. The nicest thing about transition was letting go.” I believe you that you're unsure, and I'm not trying to make your decision for you, but on the off chance that any of your discerning has taken the form of trying to convince yourself not to transition in this way, or downplaying your current discomfort, or not trusting yourself out of fear, I'd say that being trans in this world is hard enough without being on your own side.

Ultimately, you know yourself and your experience, and I'd hazard a guess that you've already decided more than you think. Often by the time I'm reaching out about a life change, I'm asking permission more than advice. If that rings true, here's your permission (not that you need it from me).

I hope you don't mind, but I checked in with my partner (a certified Transgender) while answering this, and I'll paraphrase what they had to say about HRT and inconvenience: Is the travel time to see a loved one worth the inconvenience? Ultimately, you are worth dealing with inconvenience. The happiness you could have is worth the inconvenience. Being trans is hard with or without medical transition. But sharing in the act of creation is worth it. We are all worth doing hard things for, and for some that includes fighting to get on HRT and being visibly trans in public.

You can't know until you begin a journey if it will be "worth it"—but I would imagine answering this for yourself, giving this instinct inside you a chance, would be worth it even if it's not forever. There are people who start HRT and decide it's not for them—and their lives aren't ruined. Their lives are fuller for honoring what they wanted at that point in time. Obviously regret happens—but we cannot refrain from living because of that. Your gender identity and your relationship with your body may change and grow, and all parts of that change are worth of honoring.

As to whether this would glorify God—are you honoring the person God created? If (to paraphrase St. Teresa of Ávila) Christ has no body now on earth but yours, if yours are the hands with which he blesses all the world, the feet with which he walks to do good, the eyes with which he looks compassion on this world —what body are you moving through this world with, and how will you care for it? What will enable you to live out Christ? Jesus calls us to meet every stranger as himself—what would happen if you met yourself as such, too? If everything we do to another is what we do to Christ—feed, clothe, honor—why would you be any less? Why would your body not be worthy of existence, of shelter?

If our bodies are temples to God, are they not places of worship? Of course my journey with accepting my body has shown me that we can be faithful Christians before accepting ourselves, and as we learn to care for ourselves. I don't mean to imply we cannot. But our peaceful existence in these places of worship takes work, and just as we work to make our churches more accessible and accepting, so must we work to care for our bodies and fully inhabit them as prayer. My work of love to my body was accepting it as it is, welcoming its change and faults, and also taking psychiatric medication so that I could function better. It was prayer for me, the journey to find a medication that worked and paying attention to how it was changing me, how it enabled me to better serve as a child of God.

Every trans person I know has been more fully able to love when they live as themselves—when they've had access to transition care, when they've been respected and affirmed. These were not selfish choices, they were self-honoring choices which have shone outward ever since. We can look to the Bible to see name changes at moments of God-glorifying change, and we can also see physical change—the shining face of Moses, the woman who only seeks to grasp the hem of Jesus's clothing to be healed, Paul going temporarily blind, Jesus himself at his transfiguration. We cannot serve God and stay the same.

Romans 12 tells us to offer our bodies as a living sacrifice—living. Yes, we are called to be willing to die for love, but also to live for it. Preventing your flourishing because it would be scary, or inconvenient, or misunderstood, or because it may not be where your flourishing lies forever, is not a sacrifice for love. Transition, the way I've seen it in the people around me, is.

I also want to point out that you've done the work—you introduced yourself as a genderfluid Christian. I don't know your story, but I know the years of reconciling saying those words can take. You have the language for yourself. You know who you are. HRT can be a huge first step for some, but it can also be just the next part of that work. It doesn't have to be huge. For some it is simply bringing things more in line with the self they've known all along. Make it a big deal if that feels true (and it is a big deal in terms of bravery and access), but it may become just one of many ways you care for yourself. You don't have to cater to those who see it as drastic or an emergency, those who fearmonger or want you to prove you need it. You've done the work, so trust that you are capable of making this decision.

It is your God-given right to make decisions about your body. As Christians, we believe we are called to serve God with those decisions. But God gave us the reins. God gave us all different skills and stories and paths. It is not easy or obvious and sometimes we circle back or regret or repent. God gave us the capacity for those kinds of stories, too. Be human with God—our God who entered into time and space, who participated in our having-a-body-ness, who reconciled the ways his body held him back and the ways he could serve with it. Jesus's relationship with his gender/body/health is not something we're privy to but from other parts of his life we can assume it was a participation in his time and place—a 1st century Jewish man. In the communities you're a part of, with the resources you have, with the identities you have welcomed, how will you be human with him?

I don't know what healthcare is available to you where you are, but a good doctor can tell you the side effects, refer you to counseling as you make choices, give you dose and timeline options. Even if you don't end up going on HRT, seeking out trans-inclusive healthcare and community is a good choice, and I would recommend learning your options. If you can't stop thinking about this, trust that it's worth taking seriously.

I wish you all the best in finding a church/community—there are people equipped to love all of you, and you deserve to find them. I relate with the nocturnal bit—I know Catholics usually have a Saturday night service, and every so often another kind of church will. Online community can fill gaps and give us other ways of connection as we look for physical communion. I wish I could promise affirming religious spaces in every place, but I can only pray and work for that to someday be the case.

So, to answer my lover's question, the travel time to see a loved one is worth it. The journey to the you more full of love is worth it, and the journey to find a spiritual home is worth it. If we are pilgrims on this earth, may the things in our control be done with love, may our journeys be faithful, may our bodies be Christ's body, trusting in the Love greater than anything we can do. How you will be a steward of God's creation is not something I can answer for you, but I believe in your ability to sow the seeds within you. HRT may be the next part of your creation—you can give yourself some time, talk to some people, sit with the idea, consider how you would handle regret, and don't let me tell you what to do, but ultimately there is only one way to know, and waiting until we're sure is stagnation if it is not an active waiting.

To quote my Easter/TDOV post: Come to life, beloved. God sees you. The first steps out of the tomb may be stumbling, the dawn too bright, but we will meet you in the garden, where you were first created. Bring with you whatever is still bleeding—Jesus believes in you, touches the ache in your ribs. Mistake him for a gardener; let him plant you anew. Look to the wound in his side, see how it births the Church, and continues to until there is room for you. Look through the holes in his hands and see the world you were redeemed for, the self that you have already found or may only imagine. God made the grapes, and Christ stands in the winepress with you. Trample out your wine.

And lastly, to turn the patron saint of receiving sacraments presenting as God calls, even unto death, Joan of Arc's affirmation into a command (and purposely quoting an angel in the process): Be not afraid. You were born to do this.

<3 Johanna

[thejordiverse-fics]

daddys girl, jake kiszka

fluffy dad!jake fic

warnings : fluff, language

word count

i want to preface this, in this fic, there will be a part when it talks about smoking weed at the age of 18. in the time frame, the legal smoking age was 18 not 21.

As soon as Harper was born, you knew she and her father were going to be attached at the hip. 

Her third birthday, he got her a mini piano, identical to Uncle Sammy’s. You would've thought the Gods above had crafted this gift with their higher power. She would not stop playing that piano.

Her thirteenth birthday, a phone. If you two had it your way, she wouldn't have a phone until she moved out. But “Mamma, all of my friends have phones! Why can't I get one too? I want one! Why do you guys have to be so mean!” Meanwhile, all you told her was she could get one for her birthday, which had been a month away.

Her first breakup. Jake had come home after being in the studio from nine in the morning to six at night. He had a plate of takeout chinese and a cold beer on the table. He looked for his girls, but all he heard was loud sobs and your calming voice. “He wasn't worth it, love. He was a douchebag, his car had a vanity plate, baby.” He heard his baby girl crying and his wife's soothing comments. “I know you loved him, but he was an asshole who only wanted one thing.”

Jake walked upstairs to his daughters bedroom and spoke softly. “If it makes you feel better, I really didn't like him.”

Both girls looked up and Harper got off her bed and ran immediately into her fathers arms, “Daddy!”

“Hi, my sweet girl.” He cradled her head and let her sob into his chest. He looked at you and saw you wiping tears off your face.

The new baby. “Mom! How could you not tell me you were pregnant!” She was elated to find out you were pregnant, let alone with her little brother. 

Once Hendrix came along, she had gotten a little more independent. You and Jake had caught her sneaking out and coming home at four in the morning quite a few times. After school one day, you both sat her down while Hendrix was asleep. “You know, we don't appreciate being lied to. We’ve heard you come home, every morning at four. This needs to stop, we don't know where you go or who you are with and you smell like weed, which is not good for your brother. We are very disappointed in you, Harper Kelly.” 

She looked teary eyed as Jake scolded her. Jake stood up and pointed to the direction of her room and he walked away to your shared bedroom. No sooner did he leave, she broke down. 

“I didn't mean to make you guys upset. I just wanted to be like everyone else.”

You grabbed her face and told her, “You don't need to be like everyone else. You're Harper Kelly Kiszka. Not Michaela, not Janie, not Rob, you're Harper.” You kissed her forehead and directed her to her bedroom. 

She went upstairs sulking, while you went to check on Jake. You leaned on the door frame and crossed your arms. “Why would she need to leave at one in the morning to go smoke. Doesn't she know that we do and once she turned of legal age we would've done it with her if she wanted to?”

You laughed and said, “I don't know, I never smoked with my parents and they were hippies, my brother's name is Street. And the first time I ever smoked was with you, at Whites Bar, on your 18th birthday.” 

“Was it really?” 

You nodded and moved next to him on the bed. “Jake, she needed a wake up call. She's failing all her classes and she has no desire to do anything.”

“Jesus, she's just like me in high school, sneaking out to make out with girls and smoke weed.”

“I was the only girl you were dating in high school, Jake.”

“Exactly. I can only imagine what prom is gonna be like.”

He spoke too soon. Prom night was tonight and you couldn't console Jake. You had been upstairs, teaching her how to use rollers for her hair while she did her makeup. Dress shopping had been a nightmare. You almost fought some broad at Windsor for the dress Harper wanted.

Once her girlfriend showed up, she came downstairs with her makeup all done with her corsage. Jake had been standing with Julie at the end of the stairs, hand on Julie's shoulder, tears welling in his eyes. Being the cliche mom you were, you had your phone recording the entire thing. 

She had fully made her way down the stairs and had given a small kiss to Julie. Jake pulled Harper into his arms and cradled her head, the same way he had done years prior. “Make smart choices, both of you. Julie, dont keep her out all night, okay? Before you ask, yes, you can stay the night.”

They had gone on their way and you and Jake saw them off, waving while Julie drove away. “I really hope no one brings alcohol,” he said, laughing.

“Remember what we did on prom night?”

“Yeah, snuck out and left to go to Waffle House with Josh and Ronnie. Ended up staying there until two in the morning. Karen was not happy.” 

“Yeah I bet, because my mom had my ass too.”

“I always wonder what would've happened if we never ran into each other, literally.” 

You were late for school, as per usual. You peeled out of the driveway and flew to the high school. You pulled into your parking space to see another car pulling into the space in front of you. You were going a little too fast around the corner and didn't see the tan minivan.

“Oh fuckin A! Dude, don't know where you're going, pay attention!” You screamed at him from the inside of your car. He looked at you and put his hand over his mouth. You grabbed your backpack and you both got out of your respected cars. “I am so sorry! I totally didn't see you. Let me call my mom.”

“I don't care about your mom, I'm late.”

“That car accident was totally my fault.”

“Yeah it was, baby. But we won't talk about it.”

[scarlet-traveler]

Got a little impatient, so here's my next KRBK Fluff Week 2025 fic for day 6: matching/sharing clothes. Enjoy! <3

~

“THEY’RE HERE!”

The shout coupled with the apartment door slamming against the wall as it was kicked open startled Katsuki and Queenie out of what had been a peaceful afternoon of reading and dozing, respectively, on the living room couch. 

Their poor cat was nothing more than a black blur as she scurried off to some hidden corner of the apartment, while Katsuki righted himself from his frightened flail and swiped up his fallen book as he shot a glare strong enough to melt steel at the giddy dumbass he called a boyfriend standing in the genkan, cardboard box in hand. “Jesus fuck, are you trying to make me need another heart surgery?” It was racing so fast he could barely make out the individual beats.

Eijirou’s excitement didn’t dim in the slightest, but he at least had the decency to look apologetic, smile turning sheepish. “Sorry babe, but look!” Door closed at a more acceptable volume and shoes kicked off, Eijirou hurried over and dropped the box into Katsuki’s lap where he was now sitting up on the couch.

Frowning, Katsuki read the shipping label, before his eyes widened and he looked back up at Eijirou. “No way.”

Eijirou nodded, sharp teeth biting on his bottom lip as he vibrated, he was so excited. “Yes way!” He held up a hand, wiggling his slightly hardened fingers. “What do you say we bust out these bad boys?”

“I say, why the hell didn’t you open it sooner??” Katsuki grabbed Eijirou’s hand to slice through the packing tape, hardened skin handling it with ease. Packing paper tossed aside (likely to be claimed by Queenie as her toy of the day), he was met with the back of a neatly-folded letterman-style jacket wrapped in a plastic bag, with Dynamight stitched into the fabric with orange, green, and white thread in a dynamic font, set above the graphic of a red gear merged with an explosion.

Katsuki gingerly took the jacket out of the box and removed the plastic, a smile growing as he ran his fingers over the graphic. They’ve been working on getting these jackets for months. Between he and Eijirou figuring out the design, to hiring somebody to properly draw it out, to working with Katsuki’s parents to find a good manufacturer, to going through proof after proof, it was a long journey to get the final product in their hands.

But it had all been worth it. The graphic—now the logo of their agency—came out perfectly, not a single stitch out of place. The entire jacket looked pristine as Katsuki unfolded it all the way and held it up, the weight perfect, the buttons on the front shiny and new, and even the little logo over the left breast looked perfect.

“Holy shit,” Eijirou breathed, and Katsuki lowered his jacket to see his boyfriend staring down at his own—Katsuki hadn’t even noticed him take the box from him. Eijirou’s jacket was identical aside from the Red Riot stitched onto the back in red, black, and white, the font exploding out like a rock being smashed to pieces, embodying Eijirou’s quirk where Katsuki’s embodied his own.

Eijirou’s eyes were wide and glassy as he stared at it, one hand trailing over his hero name while the other was cupped over his mouth. Clearly on the verge of tears.

Katsuki nudged him in the side, meeting those glassy eyes with a proud grin. “You deserve it, Ei.”

The hand lowered from his mouth to reveal a wobbly smile, even as a couple tears finally slipped down his cheeks. Katsuki reached over to swipe away the moisture with his thumb, then tugged him closer to kiss his forehead. “Try it on, yeah?”

Eijirou sniffed and nodded, wiping away the rest of his tears as his smile grew. “You gotta try yours on, too.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

They were a perfect fit, not too loose or snug, and Katsuki couldn’t help posting a selfie of the two of them wearing them, not so subtly bragging that they were the only ones in existence and ignoring the whines from fans for more.

(Maybe they could get more made. Later. He’d bask in the exclusivity for now.)

~

It was another off day, Eijirou eating breakfast in their kitchen alone, Katsuki having gotten up earlier to go run errands—even when he didn’t work the guy didn’t know how to rest—when Eijirou’s phone started pinging. A lot.

He blinked mid-bite of bacon at the device vibrating and pinging away on the table next to him. It looked like social media mentions, on every platform Red Riot had an official account, with seemingly dozens—maybe even hundreds of people—tagging him in something.

Katsuki was right, he really did need to turn off his social media notifications. This was ridiculous.

His text chime filtered through then, a message from Kaminari above the mess of whatever was happening on his socials.

Eijirou swiped that open first, eyebrows immediately furrowing at the message: dude Blasty looks like he’s gonna fist fight all of your fans 😂🫡

What? Eijirou swiped down and hit the first notification his thumb landed on, and it opened to a post with a picture of Katsuki, posted only a handful of minutes ago.

He was facing away from the camera, grocery bags in from one hand while the other flipped off the photographer over his shoulder as he sent them a glare. Definitely a perfect storm of a PR nightmare, but that wasn’t what made Eijirou’s face progressively get hotter the longer he stared at the image.

No, the culprit was the jacket Katsuki was wearing. The jacket with their agency logo, and Eijirou’s hero name on the back.

And there were even more photos of Katsuki in his jacket, all taken by people that had spotted him while he was running errands and posted online with both of them tagged. Pics of Katsuki walking down the sidewalk, browsing the aisles of the grocery store, even sneaky shots behind corners or produce bins as he looked for the perfect vegetables for dinner that night. All making sure to include his unmistakable blond hair and Eijirou’s jacket.

He dropped his phone to the table and darted to the bedroom, yanking open the closet door; sure enough, the sole jacket hanging on the rack had Dynamight stitched across the back.

Eijirou ran back to grab his phone—it was still blowing up, what the hell—and navigated to Katsuki’s contact, sending him the post.

Dude?????

The reply was instantaneous: Yours is comfier than mine

Two seconds later: These extras are fucking relentless, be proud I haven’t blown any of them up

Eijirou sighed, dropping his phone to the table, then his forehead.

Looks like they’d have to add them being open about their relationship to the PR meeting docket.

~

Also on AO3, lemme know what you think!

[sirxlla]

Request for raylan…

We all know he was married to Winona… what if the night before he left for Miami him and his childhood best friend have one drunken hook up after confession to each other how they always had feelings for each other .. resulting in a pregnancy where she doesn’t find out until after he’s gone.. now that his back she tries to find there child (either boy or girl you can pick) eventually he finds out and then goes and talks to her After spending time with both of them he reveals that he not stopped having feelings for her

Just Like Him

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

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Prompt: above ^^^

Notes: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts. Duck is the reader's nickname from Raylan. THANK YOU FOR FINALLY SOME JUSTIFIED PROMPTS

-With that said it's all under the cut-

Raylan's your best friend, he has lived next door since he was a kid. Of course, the walk over to his place is rather a bitch and a half, but he's worth it. The two of you lay in the back of his shitty truck, looking up at the sky.

"I really can't handle his bullshit anymore, Duck. Arlo's driving me up the damn wall. I don't know how Aunt Helen doesn't ring his neck. I gotta get out of here before I do something that would make my Mama roll in her grave."

You played with his hair and just listened to him vent about the mines and Arlo and how 'Kentucky's a shithole and a graveyard mixed into one.'

"You've been sayin' that for years, Ray." You tell him as you run your fingers through his hair gently. You liked him, and he liked you, but it felt more like a situationship even though you two deeply cared for each other cause 'Why date when Raylan was always gonna leave?'

"I say it 'cause I mean every damn word, I'm gettin' the hell out of Kentucky." He said as his dark brown eyes gazed into yours.

"Promise me, you won't forget me." You asked him this promise all the time; you didn't want him to leave, but you'd never ask him to stay; you weren't selfish enough to make him stay here. He was too damn scared to ask you to leave with him because it would mean this relationship was real, and that scared him more than anything.

He sits up and gently brushes hair out of your face as he gazes into your eyes. Raylan leans in and kisses you gently pulling you into his lap, undoing your shirt as you did his. By the next morning, you were lying in his bed, and he was gone probably halfway to Flordia.

Well, that was damn near twenty years ago when you slept with nineteen-year-old Raylan Givens. Once Raylan left you didnt bother him at all and he didnt bother you. Maybe if he'd've called he'd know that right now his son Austin looked just like him, a spitting image.

Austin was always angry, much like his father. Austin's anger seemed to stem from the fact he always thought his dad didn't stay around, which you told him wasn't the case, but kids will believe whatever the fuck they want regardless of what you tell 'em.

Besides you heard Raylan got married to some lawyer or some shit in Flordia and you didnt wanna pull him back into the shithole that is Kentucky. You didnt wanna ruin his life, you're content with your life and fucking up Raylans just seemed wrong, you loved him all these years later.

Unbeknownst to you Raylan was called back to Kentucky to help the Marshals handle the Crowder family that was lined with racism and a fetish for explosives. Raylan showed up at your door unannounced, and out of the blue, Austin answered the door. As soon as they saw each other, they just stared at one another without a word.

"Jesus, it's like looking into a mirror." He says under his breath before speaking up. "Hey, Your mom home?" Raylan asks after he breaks the gaze of the young man that looks identical to him when he left Kentucky.

"Who the hell are you to think you can come strolling back in here like you own the place?! You leave my Mama all alone to raise me while you fuck off to Timbuktu or wherever?!" Austin's pissed that his father, which he can so easily tell is his father, just showed up out of seemingly nowhere.

"Austin, Hey." You gently put your hand on your son's shoulder. "I told you, Raylan didn't know."

"This is Raylan? You know you'd think he shits rainbows with how you talk about-"

"Enough, Austin! Go up to your room. I did not teach you to talk to me that way!" You scold your son; he's allowed to curse, and you had no issue with him doing so until it's pointed at you. Austin very quickly vanishes up the stairs and to his room.

"Seems like you did a fine job without me. Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Raylan grabs your arm gently and pulls you into the other room. "If you'd've told me-"

You cut him off as you look into his dark brown eyes; the only thing Austin didn't somehow have was those dark brown eyes.

"-You'd've come back here and resented me and he cause you hate it here, or you'd've taken me out to Flordia, Raylan. You wouldn't've been free to do whatever you wanted, and that's all I wanted for you was to finally be free from here 'cause that's all you ever talked about."

"Duck, You don't know what I would've done 'cause you never told me about him." He gently grabs your hips and pulls you closer as he just looks at you for a few minutes. You were definitely older but just as beautiful, and before he knew it, he was leaning in for a kiss like almost twenty years hadn't passed. You fall immediately back into loving him, gently holding his face as you kiss him with love and anguish from all these years alone.

"Why are you- Um....what brings you back here?" You ask as you both back away from the kiss and look at each other the same way you both used to like the world only existed in each other's eyes.

"Well, it wasn't out of want or a need to be back in Kentucky. I was transferred here."

"Austin, come help set the table!" You shout as you were preparing dinner before Raylan showed up. Austin doesn't seem to come out of his room, so you head upstairs and knock on his door. When you don't hear a sound, Raylan follows you up there. You open your son's door and see he's snuck out again. You let out a huff and a groan.

"How the hell did he grow up to be exactly like you without being around you?" You ask Raylan with annoyance. "He does this all the time; I don't know where he is, who he is with, and when he'll be home."

"Just give him time to cool off, Duck. He's probably feeling a lot seeing me. I know I'd feel the same way if I were him." Raylan gently massages the back of your neck, causing you to lean back on him; it feels like everything falls back into place.

"How is it you walk back into my life and it seems like you never left? Like my life always holds space for you no matter what I do. I mean, Raylan- I-" You start to tear up. "You don't know how many nights I've wanted to call you and tell you or how many nights I just wanted to forget you entirely, but regardless of what it was, I could never do it."

"Duck, I've always felt like a piece of something was missing in my life and it seems now it was you."

"I thought you got married and everything?"

"Yeah, well, it turns out she wasn't the right one, she cheated on me with a realtor, or so I found out."

"A fuckin realtor? Talk about a downgrade." You laugh as you turn around and just look at him again, afraid he'll vanish at midnight or something.

That next morning, Raylan catches Austin sneaking in; he was up all night waiting. You waited with Raylan but fell asleep on the couch.

"You know, I don't think your mother would care that you leave whenever you want but she might wanna know where you are just in case something happens. Especially here in Harlan." Raylan tells Austin from a chair in the dark kitchen as Austin tries to sneakily make his way upstairs.

"I'm an adult, I can do whatever I want." Austin says with a clear sign of annoyance in his tone. "Besides what do you care? You left Mom years ago and never checked on her? You and her were best friends."

"You know, I'm happy your mom kept you from all the bullshit she and I had to go through, but it tells me you don't know shit about being an adult or wanting to move on with your life. I love her, and I never stopped, but the second I would've started thinking back, I'd've found myself right back here...You know it's a good thing I left 'cause you might have just ended up like me, and I would've ended up like Arlo."

"Arlo's your dad?" Austin asks with a bit of sympathy. Of course, he'd heard of Arlo; his mom had told him stories about Arlo and why we don't go over there or on his property.

"Unfortunately." Raylan responds to the young man, it's clear it's not something he's fond of.

"Oh, I...Yeah, I get that. I'm sorry...Mom always said you left because you had to and you didn't know about me. I'm sorry for assuming, Sir." There was finally some mutual understanding between the two of them and the tension settled in the house. Austin said good night before heading upstairs to get some sleep after being out all night.

Masterlist

Send me prompts if you'd like

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

For future reference: this fandom absolutely DOES prompts!! Some people more than others, but we even have whole blogs dedicated to giving out prompts! ;) (shout-out to @jilymicrofics and @jilychallenge) Prompt lists are great too, of course!

Anyways, a lot of good prompts here but of course it jumped out at me:

"I love you."

"You couldn't have picked a worse time for a confession."

(Tied-up back-to-back Order!Jily go! Or whatever you want to do with it, really, but that's how I pictured it. 😁)

❤

ah this is brilliant information!! thank you!

from this prompt list

It was supposed to be a calm, quick, easy mission.

“Give it to the kids,” Moody had said, waving his hand dismissively as if it wasn’t worth his time to care or follow-up with which ‘kids’ ended up taking on the mission.

That was the only reason James and Lily had ended up doing it together anyway, because Mad-Eye’s universal distaste for romance and relationships and, well, happiness usually keeps the couple separate.

Now, though—Lily’s starting to wonder if maybe the old man had a point, because nothing as elementary as Incarcerous has ever managed to ensnare her when she was on a mission with Mary or Remus or Sirius or anyone other than the idiot currently tied behind her.

“So,” he drawls, “do you think they’ll come back soon or…”

“Shut up, Potter.”

She can feel him shrug casually against her. “I’m just wondering.”

“Do something more useful,” she hisses, struggling against the ropes again.

“I dunno why you’re so upset,” James quips. “This is quality time, Evans. Sure, I usually prefer to be able to actually look at you on our dates, and yeah, I guess the blood stain in that corner over there is a bit of a mood-killer, but, oh, I don’t know. It all has a certain charm to it. Don’t you think it’s all a little sexy?”

“If we ever get out of here,” she says through gritted teeth, “I’m going to kill you.”

The Death Eaters had confiscated both of their wands, but—given James and Lily’s concealed identities—had hesitated to do any more than that. It’s a disturbing advantage, revealing the level of bureaucracy even within their enemy's ranks, that they have to check with their esteemed Dark Lord, or whoever, before proceeding with torture.

So, here Lily and James sit, bound together, their backs pressed against each other in an unidentified room within an unspecified house. The opulence of the marble floors and the imposing darkness of the towering ceilings hinted at its owner's aristocratic (Pureblood) pedigree.

“Should we play a game to pass the time?” James chirps.

“I need to concentrate.”

“Good idea. I love that game!”

“Wh—”

“This is the game of concentration, no repeats or hesitation, I go first, you go second, category is—”

“Jesus Christ, James!” she shouts, shrilly. “How can you sing at a time like this?”

He shifts, his back pressing more firmly into hers, and immediately she knows he's heard what she's been trying so hard to keep concealed. His physical presence succeeds in grounding her, as it always does. “Evans.”

Lily feels awful for snapping at him. None of this is his fault, obviously. He’s been nothing short of wonderful from the beginning. She takes a shaky breath and shuts her eyes. “Yeah?”

“You all right?”

She leans back into him. “No,” she whispers hoarsely, “I don’t think so.”

The ropes shift against her skin as James moves again. She feels his arm bumping along hers and then, out of the corner of her eyes, she sees his hand, moving toward hers. How he’s contorting himself to manage it, she doesn’t know, but she moves her own hand to clasp his without thinking.

He squeezes her hand. “We’re gonna be okay,” he says. “Moody’ll have gotten our Patronus by now. Any minute now—”

“But what if they—”

“It’s not gonna happen,” he says, his voice firm, instilling a sense of confidence in her. “We’ll be out of here before they even find out who we are.”

“I—” Her voice breaks.

“Not gonna happen, Evans. I’ve got your back.” He chuckles a bit pathetically. “Incidentally, right now, I actually do.”

Her head drops, a pitiful snort escaping her at the miserable irony of all this. “Tell me something good,” she murmurs.

“Well, obviously—”

“Something other than your new cat, James.”

“Okay, fine,” he says, a little grumpily. She smiles, clearly imagining the pout on his lips. “How about…oh! My mum is baking a cake for Padfoot’s birthday this weekend. And I don’t know if you’ve had a Euphemia Potter cake before, but—” He pauses for dramatic effect. “You’ll never have something more disgusting in your life.”

“James!”

“No, I’m being so serious, Evans. It’s like…Merlin, it’s like she sweeps the back-streets of London and dumps the contents of her dustbin into a pan with some eggs and just bakes it. We stick a candle in it and sing and fuck, it’s literally so bad.”

“You’re terrible.”

“No, Lily,” he says, seriously. “The cake is terrible. You’ll see.” He hums to himself. “But I see the humorous tragedy of my mum’s cake isn’t going to do it for you, so I’ll move on to another topic. Let’s see, let’s see.”

“I didn’t know it would be so much trouble to think of something good for your girlfriend to—”

“Oh, you’re playing dirty now, Evans. Pulling the girlfriend card, like you don’t know what that does to me, every single time.”

She grins, even though he can’t see her. “What if—”

“Hang on, I’ve got something,” he interrupts her. “Something good.”

“Alright, let’s hear it,” she says, waiting. “I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“Actually, your arse is firmly planted against mine, a fact I have not stopped thinking about since we were thrown in here, but seeing as it’s not an appropriate time to do something about that—”

She bumps the back of her head lightly against his. “Oh my God, Potter, get on with it!”

“I love you.”

Lily freezes, her back going rigid against James’s. “You—” She feels him squeeze her hand again. “You couldn’t have picked a worse time for a confession,” she murmurs numbly.

He doesn’t say anything at first, but before Lily can give a proper response, she feels him shaking against her.

“James?” She shifts to try and get any sort of vantage point to see him. “James, what are—” He’s laughing. Absolutely, hysterically laughing! “Was that a joke?” she demands sharply, trying to withdraw her hand from his. “You’re a terrible person, James Potter! I don’t—”

“No,” he manages, through peals of laughter, trapping her hand back between his. She can feel his head shake back and forth. “No, I was being…completely…serious.”

Jesus, she wishes she could see his face right now. Not that it’s ever aided her in being able to understand this mad man before, but…

“I don’t know why I said it,” he continues, still snorting in laughter. “I mean, I do. Obviously, I…I love you beyond reason, Lily. But—Merlin’s beard, I can’t believe I just—”

“You…love me?” she asks, quietly.

His hand turns over, palm meeting palm, so he can properly intertwine their fingers. “Of course I do,” he says.

“But—”

“I love you.”

She feels a surge of emotion. “I love you, too,” she manages. “So much. A pathetic amount, really. And—”

“I swear to Merlin the second we’re out of here, Evans, I’m going to kiss you so good.”

“So good?” she repeats, giggling at the absurdity of it. He’s ridiculous. She loves him so much.

“Yeah, I’d—” He dissolves into laughter again.

“What now?” she cries.

“It’s just—” He snorts loudly, his head bumping against hers. “Well, see, I’d kiss you now, but I’m…” A loud peal of laughter echoes through the dark room. “I’m a bit…tied up…at the moment.”

[sunkissedliterarylightofchrist]

so do you remember the idea I had that I'm kinda scared to write (now I'm less scared and doing some planning) if not totally fine (here's a link to the post ) I was wonder if you thought these

struggles would fit with my message of side characters are struggling with their sense of identity and the main character helps them find it so basically do you think these struggles match up with struggling with your sense of identity I hope this makes sense

Yes, I think all of these work really well with the concept of identity!

The definition of identity is the fact of being who or what a person or thing is, right? And that can be composed of both little and big things.

If someone asked me, 'What defines you?' or 'What's your identity?' or 'What do you find worth in?' or something along those lines, my gut-response reaction would to say Jesus and that I'm a Christian. Because that's who I am, that's where my worth comes from, that statement sums up almost everything you need to know about me as a person.

That's the 'big thing'. The 'main one'. And the most important one. My identity is found in Christ.

(Not every story has to be 'Christian' or only have Christan characters/main characters. A lot of incredible Christian authors don't have any 'Christian characters' in their stories. I'm just using this as an example. [also sidenote but while I think Christian authors don't have to have the main focus of their works to be religion, they should use their craft to reflect Christian morals. You don't expressly have to say Jesus' name in order to point to him with the good, beautiful, and true that you write.])

But also a bunch of smaller, less-important things define me. (Although I don't stake much of my identity on them per say, because that's then idolatry. If the thing/concept/whatever was taken from me tommorow I would still be me, just without that smaller thing that might make up me.) If someone asked me to name 5 things that made up my identity I would say Christ, my family, my life circumstances/experiences, my ambitious pursuits in academia and wanting to make the world a better place, and my creativity. And those are umbrella categories that a lot could fit under, I could get far more specific.

If a total stranger who I have never known in my life saw this post and read those five things, they would have a pretty good idea of who I am, even if those things I listed don't make up the 'whole' of me. Because we as humans are complex creatures.

The same thing can be done with characters. Since your story is about identity, you should take each character and give them one Big Thing that defines them. And you can use that as a base to branch out into a bunch of smaller things that also make up who they are. (Again, doesn't have to be Christ if your story isn't about religion- and with where the story starts it can be a terrible thing that defines them.)

And then make them struggle with it. All those things you listed are great ways to make someone question their identity. And then you can do two things with that- A) Have their identity and who they are change. B) Have them struggle and shift away from their identity, realize their mistake, and return back to it, even stronger than before.

Lemme play this out for you.

Let's say I have a character named Robbie. At the start of the story, Robbie is defined by his need to be successful at baseball. His entire life is built around it. He's being doing it since he was old enough to pick up a bat and wear a glove. Throughout all of elementary and middle school, he's been the best of the team and has worked really hard to get good. He wants to get into the MLB! Pretty awesome dream, right? And Robbie has done everything he was supposed to and more to do it.

But then in high school he's having a big game where there will be scouts to try and recruit to teams, and he gets injured. Suddenly, his identity is shattered. His legs are broken, he'll be in a wheelchair for months, so how is he supposed to get into the MLB? He's heartbroken as his dream shatters and his identity turns out not to be so strong after all. Who is he without his dream?

But then while he's injured, while he can't play baseball and his struggling with who is is without it, he realizes something. It wasn't being successful or making his parents and teachers proud of him that made him happy. That was nice, but maybe that wasn't the point of baseball. It was helping teach his classmates and the kids younger than him baseball. It was helping them succeed and getting good at the sport that brought purpose to the game.

So Robbie's character arc goes from I Need To Be Successful At Baseball To Have Purpose -> I Need To Teach Others How To Play Baseball Rather Than Try To Only Focus On Myself. His identity shifts because what he started out with wasn't strong in the first place. He wasn't being selfish really, Robbie is actually a pretty humble guy, but that's all he cared about. Every desicion that he made was based off of 'Will this make me successful at baseball?' But now he's focused on helping others even when it costs him, and that's a whole lot more important. And that would be the defining theme of my story.

See what I did there? I took one thing and expanded it. I could keep expanding Robbie's story here with other characters, plot points, what's influencing him, other smaller things that define him that either shift in the story too or get even stronger. Robbie's story here isn't perfect, not yet. There are a lot of gaps and quite a few things that don't make much sense yet. But it's a place to start. You've gotta have a basis of what a character's identity is and what it means and if it's good or not before you can change it.

That's how I would do it.

[ficandkaboodle]

“Please be seated,” Papa requested. On cue, the sanctuary was filled with sounds of creaking pews, rustling fabrics, and feet kicking against kneelers. The response was Pavlovian to you, as was the boredom threatening to creep in.

However, as this was your first Christmas (or was it better called Yuletide?) with the Church of Ghost, and curiosity begged you for a bit of effort on your own part.

Your catholic upbringing’s Christmas vigils were repetitive and drab — you couldn’t even remember how old you were when you finally realized Jesus was described as having siblings, even though every Christmas Eve mass was punctuated with his family tree.

But as far as you were concerned, there was no family tree for The Other Guy. At least, not one that had been captured by any teachings you'd acquired in your year of residency.

He was just created, he rebelled, and he surrounded himself with his followers once he fell. So unless the homily was to redirect into a discussion on found family (fitting, if a twinge bizarre), you were truly clueless.

Not helping was the fact that your new partner, the antipope himself, wouldn’t divulge to you what he planned on saying.

“We must keep our newcomer on their toes,” he would lightly tease.

To your cynical mind, it probably meant he had no fucking clue what he was going to talk about. But as he made his way to the lectern, the black sheen of his robes swishing, he looked confident. Sexy. It was his job, after all.

“Good evening, my children,” his booming voice rippled. You and the rest of the congregation returned the greeting dutifully. Pleased, he continued:

“Christmas — or Yule — can be a very…polarizing time of year for many. If you forgive my pun.” Good grief.

“For some, regardless of their walk of life, it is a time to cultivate joy and extending kindness to those in need. But for others, it is a cold, dark era that weighs down on them. Memories become more vivid, ice crystallizes from within. Depression. The feeling of being lost. How lucky we are, then, that we still manage to find ourselves here, together. We are guided by a beacon of sorts…”

He trails off, not out of distraction but purely for dramatic effect. You can tell it by the way his heterochromatic eyes scan the congregation, making sure everyone is paying attention. When they finally land on you, you can see the barely hidden twitch of his lips forming a smile. You can feel yourself blushing and force yourself to look back at your hands fidgeting in your lap. This was no time for flirtations after all.

"Now, forgive me for such a poor segue. Your Papa's wordsmithing is in his songs," he jokes with light humility. "But given the season, I am sure there is another sort of beacon many of you are familiar with. I will give you a hint: He has a song dedicated to him; he can fly; and he has a red nose."

Your eyes flew up from your lap and back up to your Papa. The blush had drained from your face and left your expression one of confusion. Papa, however, no longer had his sights trained on you. His gloves gripped the slanted wood of the podium, affirming his stance.

“For you see: Rudolph’s nose was a gift," he carried on. "He was a beacon for the outcasts, the misfits, the…Misfit Toys, to be more clear. So they would know where to look whence they realized their worth to the Christian Santa was only as compliant as they were to conformity."

"Unfortunately…Rudolph’s desire for acceptance flooded his identity — he wrapped himself up in the idea of being useful. Of being loved. As a consequence, though, he turned his light away from the others and left them behind…”

That. Wasn’t how it went in Rankin-Bass! Your lips parted, gobsmacked. Sure, you'd heard some zany comparisons of the most absurd things. But . . . Was this guy seriously twisting an old Christmas movie? More importantly, was he suggesting Rudolph's nose was the result of Satan's interference?! It would've been laughable, if not abso-fucking-lutely jarring!!

You glanced around at the other parishioners. For a split second, you were stunned that anyone was lapping this up. Some might've even been lightly nodding along. But then again, you knew your Papa: The humility he pretended to display regarding his "wordsmithing" was made of crap, he knew exactly the sway he could pull with words alone. He had the sort of presence and conviction that could convince anyone of anything with the right amount of umph in his words.

A dangerous power to wield, of course, but it could be trusted with your beloved. Even though he sounded absolutely insane to you.

By now, your intrigue was one of morbidity. You clung to every word, dissecting it, trying to peer into the insides.

"I will cut to the chase here. I know we don't want to be here long: Lots of cuddling and fucking and whatnot to get to." He wagged a painted brow and you could barely silence your scoff of amusement.

"I suppose what I would like to say is: Do not be a Rudolph. It is important that us 'giocattoli disadattati' stick together. If we fall together, then we can also rise together. Do you understand that?" He pauses for a beat just long enough to mentally insert a chorus of agreement. To let the words truly sink in.

"When the Dark One gives you a gift to alert to others that you are there, you must use it. We must be a beacon for one another in these dark times. Not only so we know where and whom to go to, but also so that we know that we are safe. Capisce?"

At this, the attendees responded in turn, all agreeing that yes, they understood. You, however, were a twinge too dumbstruck to do so in time.

How, in the span of minutes, did this man manage to make a meaning out of a satanic interpretation of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer exactly? You felt those eyes back on you. This time, he didn't even try to hide the smirk on his face.

***

“That was…some homily you had going on there," you offered. It was just the two of you in the sacristy. Being the partner of a Papa (and potential Prime Mover), some clearance to be back here had been offered to you previously. Normally, you turned the offer down, reasoning that your station as a Sibling of Sin (and a newcomer, no less) made for an awkward fit. But tonight was different. You needed either answers or at least to say something while the vibes were fresh.

Despite how weakly you spoke, your amore looked quite proud as he watched you from the mirror. Pulling the paint-stained towel away from his mouth, he thanked you. "Grazie, amore mio. I will admit, though, I perhaps could've done more with the messaging. But like I said, Papa and the poetry of words -- ehhh, we do not always dance together so gracefully."

"Oh, no, the messaging was beautiful, actually," you admitted. "It's just . . . That interpretation of Rudolph. I won't lie, that caught me off guard there."

At this, you watched his shoulders shake with a slight chuckle. He finally turned to face you, his face now bare of paint but wearing an expression of amusement.

"No worries. It’s quite commonplace in dark Sunday school. It makes sense that you don’t quite get it." His smile only grew as he watched your expression become an increasing mixture of confused and concerned.

"Wait . . . Y'all teach that Rudolph's nose was a gift from the devil and that his decision to seek conformity was -- wait, you know what? That kind of almost makes sense. Kind of."

At this, the older man couldn't help but finally let go of a laugh.

"It's okay, tesoro mio," he cooed before pressing a kiss to your temple. "We have all night to school you. How's about this: We head back to my quarters, we make some spiced cocoa, and I do you some learning? I can tell you how Frosty the Snowman symbolizes how we must cherish every moment and make a party out of all that we can. Sound good?"

[ambitionsource]

If magical madness, character development, and quirky questing is the game, then Arcana & Ambitions is the name. Welcome to a new fantastical alternate universe inspired by Dungeons & Dragons, where our favorite ensemble cast is preparing to face challenges -- and capers -- unlike anything they've confronted before. This story world has everything: hard-fought found family, themes and motifs, Charlie-centric religious allegory (I'm not saying he's A&A's Jesus / Moses / etc., but... I'm not not saying that?), tragic nuanced but hopeful RL backstory, magic as a metaphor for queer identity...

Also, Mr. Puff is a 12-foot tall dragon. Did I mention that part?

So much lore to unravel, epic legends to share... and this is just the beginning. Prepare your satchel and grab your lute, friends and vagabonds alike, because the adventure starts now. Welcome to the world of A&A, created for Meg as part of AMBITION Secret Snowflake 2024.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

CREATOR NOTE: Happiest new year, Meg! So... um... here's the thing. As you know, I have been all over the place these past few months. Life crazy, brain melty. So I told myself upfront I wasn't going to write something this year. But then, after a helpful and very fun brainstorm conversation with Lena (@dunsbar I owe you several life debts), I got this idea. I figured I'd make some notes, make these little trading cards, boom done. Cute idea, incorporates the blorbos and their complex dynamics (platonic, romantic, and otherwise), features fantasy and D&D which you love, so slam dunk. Only then... I got inspired. And then I got very inspired. And suddenly I had buckets worth of lore and several campaign ideas and a whole overarching plot for the entire "series" of A&A and there was just absolutely zero way for me to comprehensively complete all of that in, you know, a month or so. To say I overwhelmed myself would be an understatement.But this AU was also always intended to be a living document of sorts, in the spirit of D&D, where we could grow and play in the narrative together. So despite the fact that my proofs aren't completed and I've written like 5K words of scraps here and there nowhere near a coherent reading experience (though rest assured, I will share them with you), please accept this gift as a long-term investment. This is a promise, from me to you, that I will continue to sketch out this story world and play in the story sandbox with you -- and the rest of AAAGC, of course -- for many moons to come. This is my destiny, and hopefully yours, if you'll join me as a recruit. Thank you for opening your heart to the world of AMBITION, to my silly, story-weaving (sometimes out of control) brain, and gracing me with your friendship. Here is to many more campaigns to come. 💜🐉 Love, Maggie (And maybe someday I'll finally learn how to actually DM. This is a good starting point, right? AMBITION truly solves everything).

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Like any good D&D-type universe, there will be several quests to embark upon, but every journey has to start somewhere. For A&A, that's OBLIVION.

(And of course, there's music. Follow the playlist on Spotify!)

Synopsis and general description proceeds under the cut.

In this whirlwind first campaign, we follow Charlemagne "Charlie" Gardner, a human from the humble, pious fishing town of Haverfort. He'll be quick to tell you he's a very normal guy, fully content to live out the rest of his days as a quiet monk in the order of Charles Magnes studying the ancient texts. At least, that was the plan, until one little detail derails everything -- he has sorcerer blood in his veins, and thus magic at his fingertips, which chooses to present itself at the most inopportune time. In a community where use of magic is seen as sinful and strictly frowned upon, Charlie finds himself exiled before he can blink, even despite his insistence that he has no intent to use this new power. As far as he's concerned, it doesn't exist.

Charlie can problem solve though, so he crafts a new plan as his ostracism begins. He'll travel across the continent of Yew Nork in search of his older sister, Bridgit, who mysteriously also disappeared from home around her 20th orbit. If he can find her and bring her home, he figures, maybe they'll both be allowed to rejoin their town. Only one problem: the world out there beyond Haverfort is big, and full of curiosities and dangers Charlie has never even thought of facing before.

Not to mention it's lonely wandering on your own. Very, very lonely.

Lucky for him, it won't be long before he encounters new recruits to join his campaign. First there's Schippy, the seemingly average wild mutt-like critter whom Charlie elects to share some food with and immediately earns his devotion in response. Then he meets Dylan Orlando, a lively half-elf bard from Green Witch Village who is happy to partake in a little adventure (and more than eager to make a new friend). A trip through the vast canopy of the Brook Lynne Forest introduces Asher, a (reluctant) young tiefling druid who perpetually wears a pair of goggles he tinkered together himself, who only agrees to go along with them to Grand Central East marketplace to run an errand for his pixie friend, Jade Green. Once that's done, they'll go their separate ways again...

But things are only about to get wilder, with several compilations arising once they get to market. For one, Charlie's powers keep acting up the more he tries to suppress them, basically giving himself shock therapy on accident; Asher doesn't seem much better about his own tiefling abilities, which he's so scared of he also avoids using his druid powers (like being able to turn into a phoenix -- Bird Bones -- which is pretty damn cool if he'd actually use it). They're being tailed by this shadowy figure apparently known as Snapback, who seems intent to murder Charlie once he's done having a little fun with him (which hex knows why, but perhaps the ghostly shade woman who helps them out of a sticky situation in Tekkie Hollow can shed some light despite being surrounded by the darkness...)

There's the fact that Charlie has been having strange dreams, corresponding with a beautiful (who said that), bold figure compelling him to embrace his abilities who, oh yeah, apparently turns out to be a patron deity, AKA a literal god. Or what about the looming threat of Hell's Cauldron in the distant west, where the daemons of the dark world lurk and are certainly putting their mischievous fingers on the scale in what started as a small hike for a reunion that has now spiraled into a matter of gods and gravity far beyond Charlie's comprehension? Don't forget the worried whispers of The Oblivion, a monstrous force that has been terrorizing the continent in the west for well over a year and leaves utter ruin in its wake?

But like any epic saga with themes and motifs, the truth is never as simple as it seems... and we're about to start peeling back the layers in Ambition & Arcana Part 1: OBLIVION.

[infjpisces]

A Day in the Life of God’s Princess 👑✨

As daughters of the King, we’re all God’s princesses—loved, valued, and called for a divine purpose. But what does it really look like to live as God’s princess in our daily lives? Here’s a reimagined royal routine to inspire your walk with Christ.

🌅 Morning: Rise and Shine for the King

“This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24)

• Begin the day with gratitude, acknowledging your royal status as a child of God.

• Spend time in prayer and scripture, setting your heart on His promises and guidance.

• Remind yourself of your worth—your crown is not earned, but freely given through Christ.

✨ Midday: Walking in Purpose

“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works.” (Ephesians 2:10)

• God’s princess isn’t idle; she pursues her calling with confidence and humility.

• Whether it’s school, work, or caring for loved ones, approach each task with excellence as a reflection of your identity in Him.

• Look for ways to serve others with kindness and compassion, spreading the light of the Kingdom wherever you go.

🌸 Afternoon: Kingdom Connections

“Therefore encourage one another and build each other up.” (1 Thessalonians 5:11)

• Spend time connecting with others—whether it’s friends, family, or strangers.

• Offer encouragement and love, knowing that your words and actions reflect the King you serve.

• God’s princess strengthens relationships and uplifts her fellow daughters of the King.

🌙 Evening: Rest in Royal Peace

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

• After a full day, find time to rest in God’s presence, surrendering your worries and cares to Him.

• Reflect on His faithfulness, remembering that your identity isn’t tied to what you did today, but to who you are in Him.

• Renew your spirit through worship, quiet time, or journaling your prayers and gratitude.

💖 Being God’s Princess Means:

• Walking in confidence, knowing you are loved and cherished.

• Serving with humility, reflecting the heart of your King.

• Seeking His guidance in every decision, big or small.

• Living a life of joy, peace, and purpose, anchored in His truth.

[thatgentlewife]

The Lord hasn’t “taken your individuality”, He’s given you a new identity in Him.

I just saw a post reacting to the “the devil can scrap / but the Lord has won” trend, and I’d like to offer a different perspective, not out of judgment, but love.

The idea that surrendering your old self to follow Christ means “giving up your identity” isn’t a tragedy. It’s the entire point of the Gospel.

“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” Matthew 16:24–25

Jesus didn’t come to affirm who we already were. He came to transform us completely, to rescue us from sin, not make us more comfortable in it.

That doesn’t mean He wants you to be boring or lifeless. It means He wants to give you a new heart and a new spirit (Ezekiel 36:26). Yes, even your style, your sexuality, your preferences, and your self-expression, they all come under His Lordship. Not because He wants to strip you of joy, but because He wants to rebuild you in truth.

The truth is: not everything we feel or express is holy. Sometimes we attach to identities or aesthetics or communities that are rooted in rebellion, escapism, or brokenness, not in God. He doesn’t affirm every part of us, He redeems us. That’s deeper. That’s better. That’s real love.

So when someone posts a “before” photo of themselves immersed in a lifestyle of sin, and then an “after” where they’re living in freedom and obedience to God, that’s not “losing themselves.” That’s finding themselves in Christ.

“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” Galatians 2:20

You are still you when you follow Jesus. But you become the truest version of you, the one He designed, not the one twisted by the world, by sin, or by your past.

Jesus did hang out with outcasts, but not to validate their lifestyles. He called them to repentance and offered them new life.

If you’re wrestling with this, if you feel like following Jesus means laying something down that feels precious to you, I want to encourage you:

Lay it down.

Whatever you lose, He will replace with something better. He’s worth it. He’s not stealing your light. He is the Light.

<3 thatgentlewife

[redbecomesher]

GRACE UPON GRACE E:18

Faith in film: Finding God In Unexpected Stories

Hi y’all, sorry that I haven’t posted in 8 days!! I’m back and with an interesting subject which is about finding faith in films which we wouldn’t expect it to be in:) The reason is because the films we watch for fun, comfort, or escape — He can use those too. I’m going to 1. Name of the movie 2. Lesson 3. Christian takeaway from it <3

Movie #1: Encanto

Lesson: Your worth is not in your gift—It’s in who you are.

Christian takeaway: Like Mirabel, we often feel like the one left out. But God created us intentionally. God gives us our hobbies and talents and He wants us to use it in a way that honours Him! As a Christian in today’s world, we can feel lonely because we might be surrounded by sin and unbelievers so we feel down because these people and things don’t put our faith up but down! Remember God is always with you do you’re not alone but also try getting in experiences where you will find believers like you:)

Movie #2: Frozen

Lesson: Letting go of what’s safe to follow your calling.

Christian takeaway: Sometimes God calls us to get out of comfort to trust Him deeper. He doesn’t want us to hear His calling to move to another country etc. and just ignore Him and stay! He wants us to get out of our comfort zone and trust Him because He knows what He is saying and doing better then we do:) The lesson also shows us when we become true followers of Christ, God takes away the desire of worldly sinful things like drugs, and lustful actions e.g.

“Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” - MATTHEW 14:27

Movie #3: Barbie (2023)

Lesson: Identity crisis and purpose.

Christian takeaway: The world might label you, but God defines you. The world doesn’t know you, it just doesn’t, but Gods knows you and your heart so well because He created it carefully and slowly:) God knows who you are even if you don’t know yet! God loves you and knows your soul that is made new when you excepted Him:)

“You are fearfully and wonderfully made.” - PSALM 139:14

Movie #4: Inside Out

Lesson: All emotions matter—even sadness.

Christian takeaway: God made our feelings, and He’s near to the brokenhearted. God always choose those who never get chosen by the world. God doesn’t teach to brush over sadness or anger but to sit in it and bring it to Him so He can take it from you. Jesus Christ understands your emotions so well, give it to Him and just explain what’s on your mind and what’s going on, Jesus IS listening<3

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” - PSALM 34:18

Thank you y’all for reading this episode today:) I hope y’all learnt something new or interesting today to think about! Read your Bible, worship Him, and Pray today, God is waiting!! God bless and remember God loves you so much<3333

ROMANS 1:20

“For since the creation of the world, God's invisible qualities, such as his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly revealed through the things he has made, leaving people without excuse.”

PROVERBS 25:2

“It is the glory of God to conceal a thing, but the glory of kings is to search out a matter.”

PHILIPPIANS 4:8

“Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable-if there is any moral excellence and if there is any praise-dwell on these things.”

1 CORINTHIANS 10:31

“So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.”