#I’m an atheist but Lord help us-

[under-loch-n-key]

Hi everyone. Obviously everyone has seen the news and read the polls and obviously you can tell that we’re likely cooked.

For some reason our country wants to elect the Mango Menace and his gaggle of orange stained goons once again.

I am terrified for myself, my loved ones, my country, our climate, and just everything.

However, I’d like to tell the LGBTQIA+ community these things because I know we are terrified right now.

What happened today, it’s devastating. It angers me too. Some of my closest family voted for that horrible man. I don’t think I can look at them the same way anymore. Especially, when they hold no guilt or remorse about it even after I explained his policies to them. What do I know, I guess.. 🤷🏻‍♂️🙄

However, as a queer, trans man in this little community, I want ALL of the LGBTQIA+ people who will see this post to know that things will be alright. We all have each other. We know we exist here in the states even if none of us have met. We EXIST.

Just because those orange stained dunderheads want to silence us doesn't change the fact that we exist. We do. We always will. Bigotry cannot fight facts and science. We'll always exist. The only time trans people won't exist is when the human race dies out. Even then, we have other animal species that are queer and trans. No matter what, we will always exist in nature. They cannot change that. They cannot take that from us. Do not lose hope. Even though it's really fucking hard not to.

Do not lose it. The fact that you and I exist is a beacon of hope to another trans and queer person. We exist. None of us want to be left here alone. So we must go on. We must continue to exist. Things WILL be okay. I'll always keep fighting and living for you and every one of my trans and queer brothers, sisters, and siblings.

You existing and simply being here is a beacon of hope to me. Someone who has understands how I'm feeling. Someone who is LIKE me but so different at the same time.

In the grand scheme of the universe, we are very small. However, even though it's small, the fact is that it EXISTS. It's so fucking small in this big void of the cosmos but we're here. We're made of similar components as stars, ones that had to die for us to exist.

I like to think of the sky as when humanity was truly equal. When we were just atoms in the big ol' void, ya know? We didn't fight. We didn't give a shit about all of this stuff. We were allll different types of stars and matter. We were all random as hell, but we just WERE. We coexisted peacefully together in the universe.

Now that those stars are dead as a door nail and some dumb fishy bastard decided to get curious and walk on land, we're all human. Humanity fucking sucks ass sometimes but it's also such a beautiful fucking thing. No matter what happens, a part of us will always exist.

Our existence is embedded in the universe. Nothing can change that. So, please keep living. Be safe, but keep living. Always keep fighting. We belong here just like anyone else.

You belong. You are loved. You are cherished. You are noticed by me and other people here. We all understand each other. So keep going. Again, one day we will all have a better tomorrow. I swear to fucking god or whatever the hell is out there, if anything, however it's unlikely, I will ALWAYS keep fighting for you and WITH you.

Every protest l attend. Every petition I sign. Every time I vote. Every time I go to pride. Every time l simply leave my home as I am. I am doing it for you and all of us. Our people WILL have our damn tomorrow. I'm sick of us not having it. I swear to you we will. So, again, please keep going. Keep fighting. Keep living. Exist. Your existence may be a threat to some bigoted fucker but your existence is precious to someone else. Please do not let them take your right to exist away from you. Keep going.

We’ll have a better tomorrow, the one that we deserve eventually, but we just need get through the hard, bumpy, dirty road first.

Again, we will be okay. Everything will be okay. We’ll get through it. Yes, unfortunately, we will likely see suicide rates and hate crime rates go up and that's disgusting and just all types of awful and depressing. It angers me beyond words.

However, we are strong.

We shouldn't have to be strong though.

What we should be and need to be is loved, accepted, warm, fed, have shelter, and are safe.

For now though, we remain strong. You will always have a place here.

You will live. You will not die, hun. I know the thought creeps in and believe me, I understand. Those thoughts creep in for me too, but we must learn to try to control them. If there's anything I know about us trans and queer folk it's that we're strong, feisty, kind, very sexy, and cheeky as hell. So, if we live, we live because it's our damn right and to be spiteful. We do not owe the people who want to harm us our lives. We just don't. We deserve healthcare. We deserve to love and get married.

We deserve to grow old.

You will grow old. You will be able to go on those trips you've always wanted. You will be able to have that cheesy romance you've always wanted, if you are someone who is wanting a relationship.

You'll be able to sit down and watch your favourite movie. Why? Because you stayed. You didn't give up. Ever. We will always exist.

We will ALWAYS live.

Being transgender has existed before humans even walked this earth and it will still exist when all of us book our holy bus tickets and the blessed holy tax collector comes to collect our debted souls. No matter what, we will live on. They can silence us all they want and erase whatever the fuck they want but that doesn't mean that it's the truth. We're HERE.

We've been here since forever ago. Those Cheeto dusted dunderheads cannot change that. Like I told another person here, other animals and even plants are trans and queer! We've always been here. That won't change, hun.

Everything WILL be okay. We'll always survive and live on. Look at how far we've come in these past years. Many of us thought that we'd be gone already but here we are, two trans people typing away in comment sections on an app where middle age men get off to octopus porn and neko ladies in Japanese school girl outfits because men. and welcome to the internet, I guess. Lmao.

Everything will work out on way or another. We'll have our tomorrow, hun. For now, we gotta buckle down because we're in for a bumpy ride but hey, thankfully on bumpy you have those moments where ya hit the bump just right and you're like

"WOAH, HELLO!- mister bump, you better watch yourself, you saucy boy~ You can't be doin' that. You better take me to dinner first." Lmao. Okay, on a more serious note, we just gotta buckle down together and get through this bumpy ass dirt road because after awhile you make it through that rocky dirt road in the woods and come out to feel smooth pavement again. It'll be alright. We just need to band together and make it through. We all are always stronger together. You're not alone, my friends.

You're talkin' to a guy who has the personality of a gay muppet with a big mouth. I'm shocked nothin’ has happened to me yet with my yappy ass screeching and getting over 80+ gay people to start baa-ing like sheep at a bigot at last year's pride event, but that's a wholeeeee different situation.

My point is, we'll be okay. We'll make it through.

You'll survive. You have me. You have everyoneeeee here and on other social forums. Sure, it's not the same as in-person interactions but it's somethin'. It’s better than nothing I guess. If we’ve gotta go stealth mode eventually and make secret groups for us trans and queer folk, then so be it.

Just do whatever you feel you need to do to keep yourselves safe.

We'll have a better tomorrow. We just need to keep pushing through this rough shit. We'll get out of the woods and onto smooth pavement with open skies eventually.

Continue to exist. Fight. Be safe, but live. Live for yourself, fellow trans people, and simply for spite.

Fuck bigots. Not actually though. Like DON'T fuck them. Who knows where they've been. But fuck them. They're not worth your life. Their bigotry is not worth your life. Live because it's your right.

Those guys are all so far up Donald Trump’s ass he fired his doctor and hired his supporters to give him a colonoscopy.

So, live long. Live for love and live for spite, my friends. We'll get through this.

It’s Trump 2: Electric Boogaloo. SPOILER: The first movie sucked too. They even tried to make a third one — Mango Menace Strikes Back! We didn’t want to come to the theatre to see the second one but it was a class field trip that most of America signed for us. So, we’ve allll got no choice but to go on the trip to the cinema.

Anyways, things will be okay. We’ll make it through. We’ll out get it figured out. We always do. We’ll take care of each other. Everything will be alright. 🤙🏼💛⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️✨

(Sorry for typos and repetitive speech- it’s 4:14 a.m. EST. 😭😭)

[under-loch-n-key]

Period though.

Trump 2: Electric Boogaloo and The Mango Menace Strikes Back! were not two movies I was expecting to come to theatres near me.

[rottmntsimp]

Donnie x (gn) reader, where the reader is feeling particularly self concious? feeling as tho they don't contribute enough to the team due to not having mystic powers or not knowing how to fight, maybe they feel as tho they get in the way a lot? I know donnie isn't always great with feelings but I feel like he would relate to this problem and would know how to solve it in his own special way?

Much needed reassurance

Donnie x Insecure!Reader

TW: A bit of cursing (projecting cuz it's just smth i do when feeling a strong emotion lmao), using the lord's name in vain ( bro im atheist idk if this is a tw?), uh light jealousy (APRIL MAH QUEEN <33), mentions of stitching up cuts ig, light angst with fluff end <3 Oh and a pretty rushed ending lmao. Plus some slight ADHD projecting?? [Yes I got this req in September. Shh-] Thanks to @sleepytime-fics for title inspiration <3 /p

Donnie

You wince, letting out a hiss, as your cut stung in pain. Peeking out from in between your fingers, you see Donnie’s frown, not processing any of the words he rambled on to you. He let go of your hand, putting down the bandages, before moving onto your face to disinfect the scrapes along the side of your face, making you flinch in pain, listening to him chastise you for how careless you were.

“-I thought I’d told you to stay in corners. They can’t sneak up on you, if your back is against a wall.”

Sinking deeper into the mattress of the bed, you sigh, running a finger over the bandaging on your forearm, only for Donnie to slap your hand away. Rolling your eyes, you let him patch up your face, avoiding eye contact, because you knew as soon as you did, shit would hit the fan.

After what seemed like hours of nonstop admonishing and multiple rolls of bandages (which in all reality was only a few minutes), Donnie finally packs up the first aid kit, having finished patching you up. You stretch a little, before reaching for your phone, which lay on the far end of the mattress. Just as you were about to pick it up, a metal arm suddenly swipes it off of the sheets, holding it up.

“Hey-”

As you go to reach for the phone again, he just brings the phone higher up, farther out of your reach.

“So…” the mutant started, busying himself with putting supplies back into the first aid kit. “Leo informed me you, uh…got jumped-”

“Please, don’t remind me-” you sighed, the memory of being unable to defend yourself flashing behind your closed eyelids. Not only had Leo been struggling to take care of his share of the ninjas, he had to make sure you weren’t getting hurt too.

 Opening your eyes once more, you frown at the floor, listening to Donnie go on.

“Scoff,” Donnie scoffs, voicing his actions, “Well, if you let me finish, you would've heard me say ‘-you got jumped, are you feeling ok?’ It’s unlike you to get taken advantage of like this in combat.”

“Stop it,” You mumble, not wanting to hear about how you were unable to help, frustration rising as Donnie went on, not having heard you.

“I mean, it was just a couple of foot ninjas, and statistically speaking, you’ve done better before-”

“Donnie-” You frown, speaking a bit louder, but your words went unheard as Donnie’s rambling went on.

“I’m just thankful Nardo was there for you, don’t tell him I said that though-”

“Donnie!”

He freezes, facing you as his rambing comes to an abrupt end. Seeing the frown on your face as you shifted in your seat, your head held down, Donnie was riddled with guilt. “Were you,” he clears his throat, “Were you about to say something…?”

Silence.

That’s all he got in return, before soft mumbles could be heard, “It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve told me, it just won’t get in my head alright? I’m not a ninja, I’ve never gotten training-,” you muttered, as Donnie stopped what he was doing, focusing on your words- “Hell, I don’t even have a proper weapon!” you scoff, gesturing to Donnie’s tech bo, which lay messily on his desk, piles of unorganized blueprints and tech scattered around it. “Even April has one! April!” 

“Well, that is an issue can easily be resolved by simply paying a visit to the local sports store-”

Donnie’s words were cut short by the glare you gave him, as you went on. “But that makes perfect sense, since she’s just…so perfect,” you chuckled dryly, jealousy creeping into your voice, or maybe it was just self-pity.

Running a hand through your hair, you pause to take a deep breath, knowing you’ve already said too much; but fuck it, if you were going to get reprimanded for something out of your control, might as well let out some of those pent up feelings…right?

The only noise that could be heard was the soft whirring of the vents filtering air, and the sound of you guys’ breathing. The silence was eating you up from the inside, uneasiness hanging in the air. After a whole two minutes of silent torture, Donnie lets out a sigh, biting his tongue so that he doesn’t say anything he might regret, before finally speaking again.

“Where…where are you going with this?”

“Fucking christ, Donnie-” you snap, your head in your hands, as you let out a strong exhale. Looking up at him, you took a deep breath, trying to stabilize your voice, as a lump formed in your throat.

You mumbled under your breath, trying not to break down as tears of frustration formed in the corners of your eyes, your vision slowly going blurry. Why? The hell if you knew, all you could process was the fact that you were practically useless, and if that wasn’t enough to make you break down…

“I’m not as strong as you guys and I sure as hell don’t have any mystic powers,” you say, as a tear finally falls. One turns to two, and two turns to four, and before you know it, tears streamed silently down your face, as you tried to stop; but you both knew it was pointless.

Panic flashed behind his eyes as he noticed you crying. What was it you do when people cry? Talk to them? No, no, he was pretty sure you give them space.

“I always need at least two people out with me when I join you guys for patrol, and I always get hurt, and end up being more of a burden than a help…” You clear your throat, cursing at yourself as your voice cracks.

Once again, silence.

Looking down at the floor, you sniffled, using the sleeve of your hoodie to wipe your tears away. White floods your vision, looking up, you see one of Donnie’s mechanical spider arms holding a tissue out in front of you, his eyes averted to the side.

Nodding your thanks, you blow your nose, as quiet ensued once more. You both sat there, your minds occupied by your own racing thoughts respectively.

After what seemed like hours, Donnie spoke up, his voice soft, but firm, as though he were deep in thought, “I…apologize, for not realizing how you felt earlier. I should have been more observant, I should have been able to notice how you felt about all of this much earlier on… I’m sorry for being a terrible partner-”

“Donnie-” You just sigh, the adrenaline from earlier wearing off, as a wave of exhaustion washed over you. “I’m not calling you a bad partner, I’m just saying that…maybe I shouldn’t go out on missions with you guys anymore. I’ll just hold you all back, and-” 

“Hold us back?-” Donnie interrupts, his face going from that of understanding and thoughtful to utterly flabbergasted. Standing up from his seat on the mattress, he has a robotic arm shoot out of his battle shell and yank a chair over, as he took a seat across from your place on the mattress. He faced you, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, renewed confusion apparent, “You believe that you’re…holding us back?”

“...Well, yeah-”

“SCOFF! Never have I heard such malarkey- Oh Y/N, you are anything but deadweight!-”

You could only listen as he went on, giving up on trying to get your point across as he never gave you the chance to. Yet despite the affirmations, a nagging feeling stuck in the back of your mind, refusing to leave as he rambled on about your strengths, physically and intellectually.

His voice became nothing but a soft hum in the background, accompanying the buzz of the vents, as you spaced out. Why was he doing this? You aren’t worth the struggle, the effort… He’s always had to help you catch up, get up to speed on things. Homework, fights, hell- even simple things like staying on task, giving you something to do, to think about…

“-And just because you don't have mystic potential, doesn't mean you aren't a valuable asset to our group. There are plenty of other ways you make up for it..."

The nerve of this hypocrite; saying you’re useful while still in doubt of his own abilities.

"I mean," Donnie went on, putting a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to look at him, "It's not like you're the only human in our little posse. April's our friend too, and she's just as important as the rest of us-"

"She doesn't count-" You snap, your voice raising to a higher volume. Donnie flinched, his hand retracting in shock. Wincing, you mumble a quiet apology, feeling a wave of disappointment and regret wash over you before going on.

"April's been training with you guys since she’s met you, she doesn't count…" You mumbled, trying to keep control of how loud you spoke. “She’s been there since the beginning, basically on you guys’ level. She’s known you all since you were young, grew up with you guys, trained with you guys, fights with you guys…all while kicking ass and looking good…all I do is stand in the back and cheer you guys on…”

“Oh my sweet Y/N,” Donnie sighs, looking up at you again. “What will it take for you to understand that moral support is better than no support whatsoever?” The pleading look in his eyes, the desperation in his voice for you to understand just how valuable you are didn’t go overlooked by you, as you just sighed in response.

“I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, darling. You are as valuable to our bunch as any of us are. Learning to fight takes time, time which you never gave yourself, which I’m gladly willing to change.

“And as for getting hurt…” Donnie put a hand on yours, making you look at him as he let himself smile, “I guess we’ll just have to start training.”

Taglist [ask if you want to be added!]:

@lemme-be-cringe-damnit @sleepytime-fics @ray-of-midnight-storm @hamthepan @charismakat

[vosh-rakh]

madstone, chapter 5

“I suppose that is my name,” the former god said with a tilt of his head. “I considered changing it, but the priests advised I didn’t. Would confuse the people more than necessary, they said. I suppose they’re right.”

He put a delicate hand on Kassur’s shoulder, who suddenly felt very small and embarrassed for his outburst. “You say my name with a curious accent. Are you Velothi, by chance?”

Kassur nodded. He didn’t think his accent was that strong. Maybe Vivec was just good at picking up on it.

Without removing his hand, Vivec looked up at Ku-vastei. “What brings you to my city, Hortator?”

“Trouble with the Ahemmusa,” Ku-vastei said. She raised and jingled the Madstone in the air. “We’re helping this lad get it sorted.”

Vivec leaned his face in to examine the amulet. “Interesting design. Dwemeri, I take it.”

Ku-vastei took a closer look at the Madstone. “Is it?”

“May I?” Vivec asked, hand outstretched. Ku-vastei tentatively handed the Madstone to him. “Yes, but of very ancient make. Likely fashioned prior to a law that standardized their more utilitarian style. A law passed long before even our war with the Nords.” He smiles sadly, his eyes seeming to look beyond the amulet and into the distant past. “This really brings me back.”

Kassur managed to catch a glimpse of the amulet in the god’s hand, his first real look at it since they retrieved it. It had a round blue stone engraved with a radiant eye, cradled in an inverted crimson crescent that looked like horns. 

Vivec then casually flicked the Madstone with his finger; a loud, clear tone rang out from the stone. Kassur instinctively covered his ears, even though the sound wasn’t necessarily painful. 

“Before they became atheists,” Vivec began when the sound diminished, “the Dwemer feared the Daedra. They lacked their later, more complete understanding of metaphysical tonality, but still vaguely knew the importance of fundamental tones. They crafted devices such as this to ‘scare away’ the influence of the Daedra.”

“Seems the Ahemmusa somehow obtained one and used it to keep Sheogorath away for generations,” Ku-vastei filled in. 

“Interesting,” Vivec mumbled, scratching his chin. “I wonder how it came into their hands. No matter, I suppose.” He looked again at Kassur. “I suspect whatever issue your tribe faces, this device is instrumental to its salvation.”

“We think so, Lord Vivec,” offered Aryon when Kassur didn’t reply. 

“Oh, please,” said Vivec with a dainty wave of his golden hand. “I’m barely a ‘Lord’ anymore. Call me a saint still, if you want. But I’m more part of the common rabble these days.”

Kassur somehow doubted this. How could a god become a mortal so easily? This was, of course, assuming he was ever truly a god in the first place, something Kassur’s people readily questioned. Regardless, there seemed something insincere, or at least unbefitting, in his stated humility. 

Moving right along, Vivec said, “Well, I suppose I’ll be coming with you.”

Ku-vastei barely suppressed a hiss. “That won’t be necessary, Vivec.”

“Oh, please,” Vivec said again, clasping his hands and stretching his arms in front of him. “I’m bored out of my mind here. Endless bureaucracy. And there’s only so many ways you can say, ‘Get rid of that rock in the sky.’” 

He cast a glance upwards at Baar Dau, which Kassur only just now noticed. It was indeed a giant rock in the sky, crawling with miners like kwama, bits of excavated stone falling into the water by the Temple canton. 

“Won’t leaving the city put its stasis in jeopardy?” Ku-vastei asked. 

“No, I can handle it from afar well enough, especially seeing as it’s quite a bit lighter these days.”

Ku-vastei swished her tail and scratched her chin. Finally, she acquiesced. “Fine. You can come. But not like that.” She made a gesture with her metal hand, dividing her face into two halves.

“Of course,” Vivec replied. “I can be discrete.” In an instant the gold faded from his right side, leaving him fully grey, like any other Dunmer. “Completely inconspicuous.”

“Fine,” Ku-vastei grunted. “Just don’t make any kind of scene. This doesn’t have to be a big ordeal.”

“As you wish, Hortator,” Vivec answered. Kassur was amazed by how easily Ku-vastei commanded the (former) god, and how readily he submitted to her whims.

“Let’s be on our way then, shall we?” asked Aryon. “We’ve got the better part of the island to cross.”

Ku-vastei shrugged. “We’ll just teleport to Sadrith Mora, take the boat to Vos, then walk the rest of the way to Ald Daedroth. Not too complicated.”

- - -

And it wasn’t too complicated. The teleport to Sadrith Mora (which Kassur handled even better than the last three, getting quite used to it), the walk across town, and boat ride to Vos, were mostly uneventful. But it was far from boring, as you might imagine, being a trip with a powerful wizard, the leader of a nation, and a god. To Kassur it went by in a blur; either Aryon and Vivec were in heated debate about the Dwarves, which Ku-vastei moderated, or the three discussed political matters so far over Kassur’s head in their import that he simply tuned it out and focused on not getting seasick. Gals Arethi kept a baleful eye on Kassur, but apparently the esteemed company Kassur traveled with kept him safe from the shipmaster’s wrath.

When they arrived, Sedyni the Vos shipmaster was not there. The four travelers stepped off the boat and glanced around. The nearby tradehouse seemed unusually quiet. Gals shrugged and sailed off back to Sadrith Mora.

“Where is everyone?” Kassur asked. At this time of early evening, the village was usually buzzing with activity.

Vivec closed his eyes. “The chapel is empty.”

“How could you possibly know that?” asked Ku-vastei, planting a metal hand on her hip. Kassur wondered about that brass gauntlet she wore – it was incredibly ornate, and had an air of being impossibly ancient and powerful. But he had no idea how to ask politely.

“I can still feel it,” Vivec said, opening his eyes again. “Most people still revere me as a god, especially this far removed from the official temple in my city. So the Tribunal holy places are still attuned to me.” Kassur had no idea what he was talking about.

Aryon was oddly quiet. In the short time Kassur had known him, he’d never acted like this; he was the type of consequential mer to always have something to contribute to a conversation. It was barely perceptible, but Kassur could swear he saw a slight tremor in Aryon’s hands. But Kassur couldn’t tell if it was fear…or rage.

“Aryon?” asked Ku-vastei. “Are you alright?” She seemed to notice the same thing Kassur had.

“Check on the village,” Aryon said, his voice dry. “I go to the tower.” And so he did, flying off fast through the air, much faster than they had in Vivec. As Kassur watched him disappear into the sky, he saw a dark cloud in front of the setting sun. Or…was it a pillar of smoke?

“This bodes ill,” Vivec said, frowning. “Kassur, stay close. It’s quiet, but I suspect danger.”

Kassur felt a sudden pang of guilt. He realized he was more like a liability to these powerful beings, someone they had to keep close and protected because he was so weak and helpless. He could barely conjure a flame, and didn’t know how to use a weapon. In a fight, he was worthless. He began to wonder why they’d brought him along at all. A sneaking suspicion told him they thought he would be useful only as a bargaining chip, of sorts. A sort of intermediary to help them accomplish…whatever grim task they meant to do.

The thought escaped his lips just as he thought it. “Don’t kill them,” he blurted. “If it is the Ahemmusa. Please.”

“Kassur…” Ku-vastei began, turning to face him. “That might not be –”

“You have our word,” Vivec interrupted, placing a delicate hand on Kassur’s shoulder. “No excessive harm shall come to your people.”

Ku-vastei scoffed, snapping her head towards Vivec to glare at him, but after a moment sighed and shrugged. Kassur wasn't sure if he could trust the word of the false god – or if the Nerevarine had any interest in going along with him. 

They proceeded towards the town walls, which were actually the backs of the tightly-crowded huts of the village, no space left between their rounded stucco corners. There were no guards posted at the gate, the town’s single entrance, and beyond them was still silent. Down the single street they could see that many of the doors were half-to-wide open, but there were no obvious signs of a struggle.

“Vivec,” said Ku-vastei, “take Kassur to check the chapel. I’ll check on the houses.” Vivec nodded and gently directed Kassur towards the chapel as Ku-vastei began picking her way from hut to hut.

Vivec and Kassur passed under the chapel gate into the meager courtyard. The small alchemical garden the two priests maintained there was not overgrown or choked with weeds. “They haven’t been gone long,” Kassur observed out loud. 

Vivec noticed Kassur examining the garden and nodded. “Good,” he said, smiling at Kassur. “Let’s check inside.”

The door was closed, and unlocked. But the chapel never locked its doors, not even when the priests were both asleep. Vivec cautiously pushed through the threshold, Kassur following close behind. “Hello?” called out Vivec. “It’s alright. We’re here to help.” 

There was no answer. The chamber within was nearly pitch-dark, only faint light coming through the stained glass domed ceiling. Vivec cast a Light spell for them to see by as they entered.

It was a mess. The Tribunal tapestries on the walls were torn to shreds, and the murals defaced with what Kassur hoped was paint; candles and torches were snuffed out; the prayer-stools were upturned and thrown about; loose ripped-out pages of books were fluttering in the breeze visiting from outside; ash and bones from the circular Waiting Door on the floor were spread across the room haphazardly. Kassur held no great faith in these things, but it still pained him to see such desecration of a holy place. 

“Be on your guard,” said Vivec stiffly. “In this state I fear I could not trust my divinity to tell if we’re alone. There is little holiness left here.”

Kassur’s muscles tightened. He still didn’t understand how Vivec could know such things. But if he truly was anything close to what he claimed – an ancient mortal-made-god, a living deity – then it was difficult to doubt him.

They slowly circled the Waiting Door, more carefully inspecting the scene, but there was no more evidence of exactly what had happened. At least there’s no blood, Kassur thought. He remembered his teacher, Yakin Bael, and said, “There’s a bedroom downstairs. We should probably check there, too.”

Vivec nodded in agreement, and led the way down the steps, his orb of magical light guiding the way. The priests’ bedroom was not saved from the sacking: pots and urns of various alchemical and cooking ingredients were overturned and cracked open; broken glass from shattered bottles littered the rug underfoot (Kassur was for once glad for his shoes, and Vivec hovered an inch above the ground); the desk had its drawers yanked out, scattering torn papers and writing implements, and its stool and tall candlestick were toppled; the privacy screen was ripped open; and the beds were torn apart, sheets and blankets strewn and split.

Vivec stopped to inspect some of the loose pages of sermons and notes on the floor. Kassur went up the short ramp to the beds to look more closely. He knew the bed on the left was Yakin’s – they had a few lessons down here, when the upstairs chapel was too busy and loud. He picked up a pillow from the floor, gashed open and spitting up dried wickwheat stuffing, and gently laid it back on the head of the bed. He knelt down, and quickly realized that under the pillow was Yakin’s spectacles, broken and bent at the nose and lenses shattered. He gently took them in his hands, careful of the jagged edges of glass, and stared at them.

Just as he was getting used to his new life in Vos, now it seemed to be ripped from him again. Even the only real friend he had among the housemer, his teacher Yakin Bael, seemed to be in some unknown peril. And, useless as always, Kassur could do nothing but follow along with the real heroes, who actually had power to do anything about it.

“Here,” said Vivec, startling Kassur from his misery. A second orb of light appeared, floating near Kassur by the beds. 

“Thanks,” said Kassur. Vivec smiled and kept reading a document in his hand.

Kassur looked back down, and something immediately caught his eye. Just under the edge of the bed was a bright gleam, reflecting the magical light above. Kassur slowly reached for the shining object and pulled it out. 

It was a short sword, still in its sheath; its metallic hilt had been catching the light. He removed the sheath noiselessly and beheld the glistening steel blade, sharp as the day it was forged. “Vivec,” he called, “he had a sword. Yakin, that is. And he didn’t use it.”

Vivec dropped what he was reading and floated up the ramp to Kassur, looking down at him and the sword. “Hm,” he pondered, tucking his legs up under him as he floated and placing his hands on his crossed knees. “Doesn’t mean there wasn’t a struggle. Those spectacles are broken. No blood?”

Kassur looked around again. On a whim he grabbed the pillow he had adjusted earlier and turned it over; sure enough, a small bloodstain seeped through the cloth case.

“Punched in the face,” Kassur suggested. “Nose bled, maybe broken. No other signs of a struggle, that I can tell.”

“Fair analysis,” Vivec said. “I don’t think there’s any other clues here. Let’s go meet up with Ku-vastei.”

Ku-vastei had just come back from the end of the street to the chapel by the time Kassur and Vivec came out. She was alone.

“I see you didn’t find any survivors,” Vivec said, frowning. “Any dead?”

“No,” Ku-vastei said. “No sign of any struggle. Everyone is just gone. What of the chapel?”

“We found no one, but the chapel was desecrated. The homes were untouched?”

“That I could tell, yes. Some doors were left open, and the breeze disturbed some belongings, but that was it.”

“Hm,” Vivec said, stroking his solid grey chin. “Perhaps they’re sheltering at the tower?”

All three turned west towards Tel Vos. The pillar of smoke was rising higher, and blacker. Without a word they began at a quick pace towards it.

- - -

Aryon had put out most of the flames by the time they arrived, but the damage had been done. There was nothing left of the Telvanni fungal roots of the tower but ash, even Aryon’s personal pod at its peak. The tendrils which had so integrated themselves into the stonework of the Imperial fort no longer held it up, causing several portions to collapse into charred bricks.

Ku-vastei and Vivec readied their spears (Kassur hadn’t noticed the god had been carrying one until now) while Kassur cowered behind the two. But it made him feel like a coward, so he tried his best to straighten his back, puff out his chest bravely, and at least put his hand on the sheathed sword of Yakin Bael, even if he didn't have the nerve to actually draw it.

Aryon knelt in front of a smoldering pile of bodies. It was hard for Kassur to make out in the carnage, but it seemed like a mix of guards, tower servants, and Ahemmusa raiders. He might have recognized some of the latter, if they weren’t all so horrifically burned.

“Master Aryon?” asked Vivec. “Are you harmed?”

Aryon turned his head slowly. There was no evidence of weeping on his face, but he looked like a man completely exhausted. Kassur understood the feeling immediately. “No,” Aryon said. “They likely went north before I arrived.” He stood and wiped his hands on his robes. “To the old camp. What of Vos?”

He’s held together by a thread right now, thought Kassur. There was a haunted look in his eyes. He’d just lost everything. Kassur could relate – although he’d ran from his old life, instead of having it torn from him.

“There was no one there,” Ku-vastei said. “No sign of a struggle, except that the chapel was ransacked.” She took a cautious step forward towards Aryon. “Are you sure you’re –”

The wind changed suddenly, and Kassur caught a big whiff of the corpse-smoke. He gagged loudly, covered his mouth with the collar of his robes, and fled towards a nearby wall. He planted his free hand against the stone as he tried to calm his retching before it grew into something worse. He could feel three pairs of eyes on his back, and he resented it. He let go of the wall and looked at his hand; it was completely covered in soot. The wall now had a relatively clean handprint on it where he’d stolen the blackness. “I’m fine,” he shouted, although the act nearly made him gag again. “I’m –”

There was a loud crack somewhere above him. He only had time to look up at the top half of a tower rushing towards him, but not enough to move out of the way. He closed his eyes.

Something hit him hard, but not at the angle he was expecting. The collapse was deafening, its roar of crumbling stone erasing all other sounds. When the sound had settled, Kassur opened his eyes. Ku-vastei had him in her arms; he could feel the cold metal of her right hand pressing into his spine through his robes. 

Vivec and Aryon appeared in the air above them, their feet glowing with pink light. “Are you two alright?” Aryon asked.

Kassur felt a soothing energy enter his body from the gauntlet, and he felt less sore from the tackle. “Yes,” Ku-vastei said as she stood up, lifting Kassur with her. “I’m fine, and he will be.”

Kassur caught a glimpse of Aryon’s face, wrinkled with worry, before it relaxed into relief. Then he put on a new mask, a mask of cold wrath. A cascade of facades to make Mephala proud.

“Good,” Aryon asked. “We need to go to the old camp and see if they’ve taken the citizens there.”

Aryon turned, and with a mystical wave of his hand, buoyed up the rubble in mauve smoke and flung it aside. “Come,” he said once the crashing din faded. “We have work to do.”

Suddenly, Kassur was terrified of Aryon – and for the safety of his own people.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Ghosts

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )    

Human: *Walks into room* I think we need to move. Alien: We just moved in, why do we need to move? Human: I am 95% sure this place is haunted. Alien: What does that mean? Human: It means there’s something else in this home alongside us. Alien: Now I’m pissed. Human: Because we’re being haunted? Alien: No. Alien: Because they’re not helping with the mortgage. --------------

*Lights flicker on and off randomly* Human: This is getting scary. Alien: Really? Alien: Poor electrical wiring is scary? Alien: *Flips off lights and lights candles* Alien: Use these instead. Human: *Reaches out for lit candle when light is suddenly blown out* Alien: Okay, now I’m getting upset. -----------

Human: *Steps out of shower and wipes mist off mirror* *Horrible reflection looks back at him* Human: Hey sweetie get in here! Alien: *Walks in and sees horrible reflection* Human: What do you say about that?!?! Alien: *Causally leaves room and returns with hammer* *Smashes mirror into tiny pieces* Alien: You need more conditioner. ---------------

Human: *Walks into dining* *Sees furniture stacked in a pyramid formation* Human: *Looks up to see Alien partner sitting on top of it all sipping morning tea and reading paper* Human: How are you so okay with all of this? Alien: You know I don’t believe in your wild superstitions. *Suddenly chair floats above alien and slams against the back of their head, shattering into a million pieces and sending the alien tumbling to the floor* Human: How about now? Alien: I am *coughs up blood* starting to have my suspicions. --------------

*Doors open and exorcist walks in* Exorcist: You were wise to call me; I can sense the evil of this house already. Alien: Bit early to judge. Exorcist: My church has taught me well of such sensations. Alien: I bet it did. Exorcist: Pardon me? Alien: Does “Ratlines” mean anything to you? Exorcist: *Coughs into hand* Human: *Turns to Alien* I’ve seen you struggle to open a car door and yet somehow you are well versed in world war two histories. --------------------

Exorcist: *Walks around house* Exorcist: Where is the evil centered? Human: Basement. Exorcist: Then let’s go down there. Alien: We don’t go into the basement. Exorcist: Why? Human: They don’t like it when we go down there. Exorcist: *Holds up symbol of faith* have faith my child, for our lord shall protect us. Alien: I don’t have a lord so I doubt they’ll protect me. Human: Yeah, and I’m an atheist so- Exorcist: Wait, you’re an atheist? Human: Yeah, why? Exorcist: *Packs up things and leave* Good luck with your ghosts you heathen fuckers. *As they’re walking away another floating chair comes up behind them and smashes it against their head, sending them to the grassy lawn* Human: I’m not even mad at that one. -----------------------

*Several humans walk in* Lead human: We’re the ghost hunters and we’re here to help. Alien: Question. Lead Human: Shoot. Alien: How many ghosts have you actually slain? Lead Human: We don’t actually kill ghosts. Alien: Then why are you hunters? -----------------------

*After several cameras installed and night falls* Lead Human: If there is a spirit amongst us, we wish to speak with you. *House groans* Lead Human: Give us a sign if you are here. *Vase goes flying off the wall and hits them in the head* Alien: *Watching from van outside* Should have been more specific. --------------------------

Lead human: Why didn’t you tell me it threw things? Alien: We have been telling you this entire time. Lead Human: You said it only used chairs. Human: Chairs are just vases for humans. Alien: That’s a debate for another time.

[watsittoyah]

Prayers From A Sinner- Dick Grayson x Blk Fem Reader

Warnings-Sexual content, and adult content. Toxic behavior, enemies to lovers? Oral sex, slight rough sex, drug use, violent behavior.

I do want to let everyone know that this story will have dark themes. It’ll be erratic at times and the main characters morals will be tested. There will be foul language and lots of descriptions of acts of violence and other uncomfortable subjects. If those themes aren’t for you, I won’t feel any way about it and you don’t have to continue. But for those who decides to stay and read, thank you, I’ll do my best making this story…interesting and entertaining.

Chapter 1 - Thou Shall Not Kill…

“Dear God, I know we haven’t spoken in ten years, but…I know you listen. Even to sinners like me. I know I won’t make it to those pearly gates but you please please save her. My mothers faith has never wavered, she always speak so highly of you. Just…don’t take away the one person who loves me.” You pray as you knees at the alter.

The sentiments were soon gone when you felt a shadow beside you. You open your eyes and turn to face him. “You shouldn’t be here.” The reverend says glaring at you. You kiss your fingertips and proceed to tell the good lord amen and then you look back at the Reverend.

“What? Can’t sinners come to church and pray too?” You ask in an innocent tone. “You know God won’t be listening to your prayers, you little demon.” He hisses at you which only gets a rise out of you. You rise from off of your knees and lean in.

“Tell me, reverend…do you still get those urges?” His glaring shakes a bit as he knows what you’re asking. “You need to leave, now Miss Price.” He tells you ignoring your question. “Oh but Rev, I was just asking do you still get those urges? Especially when you do communion? Do you get a stiff one when you have the men open their mouths when they eat that cracker?”

“I said get out!” He snaps causing you to laugh in his face. You wipe the tear from your eye and pat his arm. “Don’t worry, Reverend Jones. I was only teasing. But if you ever want to settle those urges you know where to come. I got the best boys that’ll satisfy you better than the misses. Just remember I won’t tell if you don’t.” You wink at him and motion for your three body guards to follow you outside of the church.

“Church people are so judgement.” You tell Nathan, your best guy. “That’s why I’m atheist.” You laugh and he helps you down the stairs while Marc gets the truck ready and Jake holds your umbrella.

You stop mid step and sigh. “Hold on, boys. I’ve got company.” You turn and right in the shadows you see him. “I’ll be back.” You pluck the umbrella from Marc and continue down the steps.

“But Miss Price-” You turn to Nathan and give him a look that makes him back down. “I’ll be fine, now don’t hover you know I hate when you do that.” You walk away from him and you walk down the alleyway, and stand in the slight moon light.

“You know you’re not your daddy, Richie Rich. Come out so I can see you.” You say with a slight smirk on your lips. Dick Grayson had stepped out of the shadows but he wasn’t wearing his stupid getup.

No he was dressed differently. Hell he stood differently, and he was more filled out than the last time you saw him. But things change in six years. “What are you doing here, Victoria? I thought it was clear that you were never to come back here in Gotham.”

You cock your head to the side at him. Clearly his attitude hasn’t changed.

“That’s rude, normally when you greet an old friend you ask them how they’ve been and what they’ve been up to.”

“We’d have to be friends for me to ask that.” He steps up close to you and you smile. “Awe, Richie Rich that hurt my feelings. Now kiss my lips and make the pain go away.” You say as you lean in.

But he moves back from you and leans against the wall. “Why are you here?” He asks again. “I have business to take care of here, since you’re so concerned. Now where is Batman? Is he still around?” You ask looking past him.

Dick looks at you and you see the sadness in his masked face. “I heard about your mother. I’m sorry-” You raise your hand and stop him. “Don’t be sorry, people die all the time. It just happens to be my moms name on the reapers list.” You say in a cold tone.

“You know that I can talk to some people. See if she can get better treatment.” You laugh in his face. “What you don’t think I haven’t done that? You don’t think I haven’t tried to buy more time for her? I have thrown enough money at these so called doctors, and all they’ve told me was she has no time! She is dying! And I can’t do a fucking thing for her! You and I both know she doesn’t deserve this, she’s one of the good ones in this dump of a city. And I have to watch her leave me!”

Dick walks over to you and he hugs you as you feel your shoulders shake. “I’m here for you, you know that right, Victoria?” Dick makes you look at him and you give a nod. “I know. I just-I hate crying. God damnit.” You wipe the tears and Dick kisses your head.

“You…you can’t stay here in Gotham. You have too many warrants and you’re a target.” You shake off his embrace and glare at him. “You think I give a fuck about that right now? You insensitive bastard!” You go to slap him but he catches your wrist and he sighs.

“Don’t take your anger out on me. I know you’re hurt. I know you want to lash out just to make yourself feel better. But I just want you to be safe. You know I care about you.” He tells you as you oddly become calm.

“If you want me to feel better then, make me feel better. This suit looks good on you. Makes your shoulders look more broad. And you smell good. I bet you still taste good.” You start to press up against him and you cup the front of him making him flustered a bit. “Victoria, I can’t. We can’t.”

“Are you scared of me, Dick? I promise I’ll be a good girl for you. I won’t leave bruises like last time. I’ll even let you leave some down my throat.” You press him against the wall and as you go to kiss him he stops you and he holds you still.

“No, I said no and I mean that.” Your eyes get low and you step off. “Fine, I won’t press my luck. I apologize.” You say in a monotoned voice. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you want to talk. Maybe we can-” You turn on your heel ignoring him and you feel him follow you. As he reaches out to you, you snatch your arm back and point to the siren noises.

“Superman ain’t here so get to it Robin.” You spit at him as you walk towards your truck. You don’t even look back as you step inside. You just toss the umbrella and glare out the window.

“Marc, take me to Spades. Miss Molly is getting a bit dull and I want to show her off.” You tell him as Nathan and Jake both sit quietly. “Sure thing boss.”

••••

“Watch the doors fellas.” You tell Marc and Nathan as you step into the strip club. You see ass and bare breasts all around. You see a great amount of men, all salivating at the women dancing for them and you yawn. You take off your fur and Jake takes it for you while you walk towards the vip section. You feel eyes on you and but no one catches your attention like he does.

There was something about Dick Grayson that made you get into this mood. You never let your emotions go like this, you were a pro at bottling them up, but old Richie Rich just knew how to break that bottle and make you pour.

You knew he could bring out the best side of you, he could help you with your attitude and you’d be an upright citizen. But why would you want that? You’ve left far too many dead bodies in your wake. And you didn’t want to scrape for pennies ever again.

You’ve made a name for yourself and you liked the fear it invoked in others.

So that is why you needed a distraction, you didn’t want to think about him anymore. So you eyed the male dancers. One had a very large bulge as he moved his hips to the slow yet low base beat song. You two made eye contact and you take a crisp one hundred dollar bill out.

“You’re cute, what’s your name?” He gets on his knees and he crawls over to you. “Nicholas, but you can call me yours, pretty lady.” He accepts the money from you and you smile, looking at his pretty tan skin and his pretty white teeth.

“I think I’ll keep you. You wanna come home with me, Nicky?” His deep brown eyes seems to look a bit panicked and you gently place your well manicured nail under his chin. “Don’t be scared. Trust me, I’m all bark.” You flirt as you stare into his eyes.

His pupils dilate which causes you to smirk. But suddenly you feel someone behind you. “Now this looks like a party.” You smell cheap scotch and you turn, seeing Jake grab the strangers shoulder but you shake your head and he backs off.

“Nicky, go get us a room and wait there for me.” You pass him another one hundred and he gladly takes it and nods. “I’ll be waiting pretty lady.” He leaves off the stage and walks away, you look at his ass and you sigh.

“Come on, baby can’t I watch?” The cheap scotch drinker asks. With a swift move you take out your rose gold beretta that was secured to your thigh under your dress. You placed it under his chin and as soon as he heard the click, he sobered up quite quickly.

“Wa-” You shake your head at him. “I thought you said you wanted to watch? Well I don’t think you’ll want to watch that pretty boy eat my pussy out. I bet you’ll want to watch some girl on girl action? Well let me introduce you to miss Molly. Ain’t she pretty? She packs a mighty blow and I’m sure you’d want to watch that right?”

“N…no. Please don’t kill me.” You raise a brow at him. “I’m really a nice lady, now if I recall I asked you a question. Answer it. Isn’t Molly pretty?” The man stutters out a yes and you smile.

You pat his cheek and rub the barrel against his lips. “I think, everyone should meet Miss Molly. Now stand there and be quiet while I introduce her.” You move the gun from his lips and you shoot three shots in the air, scaring the hell out of all the patrons in the club.

The music comes to a holt and you blow the smoke from your gun. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I want to introduce my little friend named Molly, and I wanted to reintroduce myself. I am Vic Price. You may have heard of me, and if not then let me remind you who I am. First things first, I am not someone to fuck with. Okay? I will shoot you and then go out for ice cream because I feel like it. Secondly, I know a lot of you in here are my enemies main men, let your bosses know I don’t give a fuck about the targets. I’m out for blood and I’m ready to spill it. And lastly, does anyone know this guy?” You point to the scotch drinker and just about everyone in the place shakes their heads.

“Good, this is a lot easier for me.” Without hesitation you shoot the man in his face and his blood as well as brain matter splatters against the stage. You step up closer to his fallen body and you shoot him in his mouth as well. A few girls scream and a few people scramble to the door but they stop as they see Nathan and Marc.

“Here you go boss.” Jake hands you a handkerchief and you wipe your gun clean and place it back on your person. “Jake you’re the best, and because you are the best please explain to the lovely folks in the room, why I shot that man in his face and his jaw.”

“Miss Price here shot that sack of shit in the face, because she doesn’t want him to be recognized by the Gotham police. And she also shot him in his jaw just so he can’t be identified by his dental records. Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Price simply shot him because she was in the middle of a conversation with someone. I don’t know about you lot but I wouldn’t want to fuck with this lady.”

You clap as you laugh. “I love this guy! Now where is the owner of this fine establishment?” You scan the room and Jake points to the chubby man trying to run back stage. “Grab him.” You order.

He moves quickly and grabs the man. “Hey le…let me go!” Jake tosses him at your feet and the man looks up at you scared.

“I don’t want any problems. I respect your father and-” You bend down close to his ear and whisper something only he could hear.

“You know my old man? Please let him know his baby girl is back in town and she’s coming for what she’s owed. And if you don’t tell him, I will shoot your little pecker off and make you eat the rest. Do you understand?”

He nods quickly and you smile. “Good boy. You know what, I’m going to stay in Gotham for a while and I think I’m going to take this place off of your hands. You don’t mind right?”

“I can’t do that-” You stomp your stiletto down on his hand and he gives out a cry. “What was that?” You ask. “It’s yours! It’s yours Miss Price.” You remove your pointed heel and you look back at the crowd.

“Spades is under new management! Ladies and gentlemen all the tips tonight belongs to you. As for the rest of you that have came in to pay? Tip my people well, I’ll be making more change’s tomorrow! Jake, you make sure you keep these people from bothering me. I have a new pet to break in. Oh and one more thing, cut that cheap scotch drinking bastards hands off and drop them somewhere no one can find them.” He smiles wide and nods. “You got it boss.”

You walk down to the vip room and you lean against the door frame as you knock. Nicholas opens the door and he looks spooked. “Were those a gun shots?” He asks as he looks past you.

You place your hand on his toned chest and you move him back into the room. “Don’t worry about those loud noises, Nicky. I took care of that. Now come dance for me.” You say as you look into his brown eyes.

He gives a slight smile and he leads you to a chair. You sit down and he moves close to you and he places your hands on his abs, as well as his thighs.

“You wanna be my special friend, Nicky?” You ask as you move your hands from him and place them on the hem of your dress. “All depends…what are the benefits of being your special friend?” He asks as he eyes your body.

“You get access to me, you get spoiled. And I do love spoiling my friends. And most of all you get to have the best sex in your life. I’ll fuck you so good, you’ll see God and the devil at the same time. How’s that sound?” You ask as you raise your heel and he takes it, letting his soft hands rub down your calf. “That sounds amazing, but why me?” He asks as he unclasps your heel and he rubs your pretty black painted toes.

You let out a giggle. “Because I like that bulge you have in those skimpy little shorts, and because your eyes remind me of someone. They look…kind.” Nicholas smiles at that and he brings your foot to his lips.

“Can I?” He asks as he kisses the pads of your toes. “Go ahead, let me see you enjoy yourself Nicky.” He sucks your toes and he lets out a soft moan as he licks and suck’s your foot. You rest your head on your chin and you can visibly see he’s getting rock hard.

“That’s enough, Nicky.” You tell him. He gently places your foot down and you hike your dress up past your belly button. “I want to see what else you like sucking on.”

He kneels down and looks up at you. “I..I won’t get in trouble will I?” He asks as he looks down at your freshly waxed brown pussy. “Nah, the new manager here said she’ll let this slide. Come closer, I’m sure you’re hungry after dancing all night.” He leans in and as he grips your thighs he freezes and moves his hand back.

That movement makes you giggle. “Awe, what’s the matter? You don’t like guns?” You ask as you pat Molly. “I..um, I don’t have great experiences with them.”

You cup his chin and move in close as if you’re about to kiss him but you stop. “Well I won’t ever raise Molly to you as long as you don’t make me upset, if you do oh you won’t like that. Now Molly is staying right on my thigh. But you don’t need to be concerned about that. Just pay attention to what’s between my thighs. Now I have two things to tell you. After you give the correct answer we can have fun. Number one…I want you to know I have two main rules. One, you only get to fuck me. If you fuck someone else I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again. And two, I want you to treat me like I am your god. When I enter your presence, worship me. When I walk past you, hunger for me to come to you. Do you understand?” He nods but you grip his chin. “Answer me.”

“Y…yes pretty lady.” You let go and you place your hand on top of his head and move his face between your legs. “Now answer this for me as well. Do you have full understanding on how to eat pussy?” You hear him inhale the scent of your sex and he lets out a moan. “Yes, yes I do pretty lady.”

“Call me Vic, and I’m so happy to hear that. Now take that delicious looking clit of mine, move the hood back and lick it with just the tip of your tongue.” He does what he’s told and you lean your head back as you feel him lick circles around your clit.

“Such a good boy you are. You’re going to be my favorite. Now go ahead and suck.” You push his head deeper between your legs and you let out a soft moan as he sucks your clit hungrily.

Even though you know it’s Nicholas between your legs, your mind still wonders to Dick. In your mind he was the one licking you out and making you wet on the seat.

“It’s so good to be home…”

Next

[queer-reader-07]

Making a Home in the Liminal Space

I grew up catholic. I was born into it, baptized as an infant, first communion in second grade, roughly 8 years in catholic school, and all of it culminated in getting confirmed at age 14. Catholicism was my life, in many ways it was my only constant in life. Schools changed, people came and went, but church was always there. Every Sunday with my family and every Wednesday with my classmates I found myself either in the pews ready to pray or in the choir area ready to play the hand chimes throughout Mass. I went to catechism every Wednesday night for years in elementary school. I attended youth group with my friends. There are still parts of the Bible that I know like the back of my hand.

But then I grew up. I grew up and I realized that I thought girls were pretty in a way that gave me butterflies in my stomach and that I didn’t quite feel like a girl anymore. I grew up and I went through changing labels before I found words like ‘queer’ and ‘trans’ and ‘asexual’ that made me feel at home. And while that home is comforting in so many ways it is also not a home that is compatible with the religion that held me for so long. Catholicism was my life, I was in Church at least twice a week for years of my life. But Catholicism doesn’t leave room for queerness, it doesn’t embrace and hold close what I am. Who I am.

A friend asked me recently if I still I identify as catholic. If I, someone who is now staunchly leftist and proudly and openly queer, aligned with a religion that is so notoriously bigoted and conservative. Easy answer, right? Just say no? How could someone like me ever call themselves a catholic? And good god, I wish it were that simple.

Because, the thing is, I tried to just say no. I tried to say “eh not really,” but it felt so deeply disingenuous. It felt wrong. How do I denounce a faith that was my life for 15 years with a simple “no”? How do I go from staunch catholic to atheist in the blink of an eye? I can’t.

To be honest, I’m not sure where I fall on the spectrum of spirituality and religiosity. It feels like a lie to say I believe in God, but it doesn’t feel anymore honest to say that I don’t believe in God.

I know I believe in love. I believe in the power we as people have to do wonderful and amazing things. I believe in hope’s ability to help one through the darkest of times. I believe in humanity, in the human story. But none of that is mutually exclusive from religion, from Catholicism.

I think, right now, I exist in the liminal space between catholic and atheist. I can’t bring myself to align myself with an institution that doesn’t believe in my right to exist. But I also can’t bring myself to fully denounce the faith that held me for so many years. I can’t bring myself to denounce the faith that was my only real constant for all those years. I haven’t been to Church on my own volition in ages, yet I refuse to take down the rosary adorned crucifix above my bed. I don’t pray all that often anymore and yet I could recite the Our Father without a second thought. I don’t go around professing any faith in God and yet the phrases “good lord” and “for the love of all that is holy” seem to leave my mouth daily. These are the things that make up the liminal space. The not quite prayer, the familiar comfort of a crucifix and rosaries about my bed, the acceptance that I’ll never have a secular vocabulary. It’s weird, it’s contradictory, and yet here I am existing in it.

There is still so much beauty I find in the world that feels like it must be more than mere coincidence. I think a lot about hope. About how it feels so unique to the human condition and I can’t help but wonder why. Did someone, something, endow us with hope? So that we could never cease in our endeavors of discovery and creativity? So that we would not lose sight of a better future? Or, did we just get lucky?

But I don’t think that’s God, necessarily. I don’t know that it’s one being, but I’m not confident it’s no being.

Existing in the liminal space is difficult. Because to be here is to know you can’t ever go back while still grappling with where you’re meant to go now. I hope that one day I find a new home, a home that isn’t built on guilt and shame for merely daring to exist. But for now, I am making a home in the liminal space. I am letting this liminal space hold me in any way it can while I work to figure out what I am outside of the church. And I hope that wherever I go next— whatever space becomes my home after I outgrow the liminal space— I hope it welcomes me with open arms and a warm embrace.

[mydarlingdahlia]

Warning : a rant about religion/religious stuff below, read with that in mind.

I’m tired of seeing people on TikTok (or any other social media platform, really) put down or berate others for their opinions or beliefs.

For example…

I saw an innocent video of a girl reading some scripture from her Bible and just talking about a dream she had. Not harming anyone, right? Apparently not…

I can’t tell you how many comments I saw of people from other religions putting her down and just flat out making fun of her belief. As a Christian, it did hurt seeing my faith being treated the way it was in that comment section.

But, here’s another example…

I saw another video of this girl showing off some of her crystals and tapestries that she had gotten, and I thought they looked neat! I liked the video, and went to leave a comment about where she got them, when I saw some other messages.

Basically to sum up what they were saying is that if she kept doing the blasphemous things she was doing she’d go to hell, and other hateful things.

It also hurt seeing her being put down/being for her opinions/beliefs, when she wasn’t even doing anything wrong or hurtful to another religion!

DONT 👏 PUT 👏 OTHERS 👏 DOWN 👏 FOR 👏 THEIR 👏 OPINIONS 👏 OR 👏 BELIEFS👏 OR 👏 RELIGION👏

STOP IT.

It’s rude. And you aren’t “saving” anyone by doing it either.

The same things goes for people who flat out just make videos hurtfully ridiculing a comment or person for their own religion. (Not just Christians or Satanists.)

Also…

STOP 👏 SPREADING 👏 MISINFORMATION 👏 ABOUT 👏 OTHER 👏 RELIGIONS 👏 OR👏 WAYS 👏 OF 👏 LIFE👏

Being a Satanist or an Atheist doesn’t make someone a devil worshipper. If someone is a Satanist, it doesn’t mean they’re in a cult. It simply means they worship mainly themselves or act as their own god. (Which isn’t right in my opinion, but who am I to tell them what to do?)

If someone is an Atheist, that doesn’t make them anymore wayward than the rest of us. They may not worship the Lord, but that doesn’t mean we should treat them like dirt or anything less than a human being.

Same thing goes for any other religion.

I have friends that come for other religions, and they’re some of the nicest/awesome people I’ve met! Sure, we don’t see eye to eye on a few things, but that’s okay! It doesn’t mean I should end a relationship over a little disagreement.

Also, I’ve also seen some controversial takes on people of the LGBTQIA+ community, and as a Christian, it intrigues me to listen to them, as I am a member of that community.

I’ve heard some people say that all who are apart of or even support the LGBTQIA+ community should go to hell, which I think is a bit rash. I’ve also seen people who say they just need forgiveness, but I’m curious, what do they need to be forgiven of?

I know in the Bible it says homosexuality is a sin, but ever since humanity fell, we’ve been stuck in sin’s (or the devil’s) trap, and I believe we won’t be able to get out of said trap until Jesus comes back. (The Rapture, The Second Coming, call it what you like.)

I can’t help the way I am, and you can’t just convert me to become straight just like that. I am very happy with Mia, and she is with me, and there is no way I’d leave her, for any faith.

And you know what, I respect your opinion if you think I’m wrong. I won’t say anything against it. Wanna know why? I’ve been taught and brought up my whole life to be kind to others, even if they don’t deserve it. And yes, I forget that sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be respectful towards them.

Especially if it’s about their beliefs or religion.

So, say it with me.

I will love and respect all of my witch, celestial, and earthy girlies/fellas, even if we don’t see eye to eye.

I will love and respect all of my Christian girlies/fellas, even if we don’t see eye to eye.

I will love and respect all of my Atheist girlies/fellas, even if we don’t see eye to eye.

I will love and respect all of my Satanist girlies/fellas, even if we don’t see eye to eye.

I will love and respect all of my Hindu girlies/fellas, even if we don’t see eye to eye.

I will love and respect all of my Islamic girlies/fellas, even if we don’t see eye to eye.

I will love and respect all of my Buddhist girlies/fellas, even if we don’t see eye to eye.

I will love and respect people regardless of their religion, beliefs, or opinions, even if we don’t see eye to eye.

See, that’s not so hard is it?

Treat people how you’d wanna be treated. Give respect, get respect.

[coffeeman777]

Hi! Can I have your opinion on something?

My friend and I have known each other/been friends for almost 3 years now. It’s an online friendship, but we call almost every week and talk almost daily. Lately, their (only using ‘their’ for the sake of anonymity, in case they see this) posts here on tumblr have been… *very* anti-Christian. I’m a Christian myself, and my other friend and I talk about our faith openly with/around this ‘problematic’ friend. The posts are incredibly demeaning and blasphemous, and they constantly call our faith/beliefs/the Bible and God nothing but nonsense (I’m paraphrasing - believe me, you don’t want to know what they’ve actually been saying), but only here on tumblr, not to our faces. They’ve expressed mild interest and/or mild support about Christianity before, but will wait for about a week and then post a bunch of horrible things about our faith. Not to mention the proshipping posts they’ve been making…

I really care about this friend, but I’m on the fence about what I should do. I don’t want to just drop them, since we’ve been friends and basically inseparable (as much as online friends can be) for years now, and we play weekly games together with some mutual friends (that I unfortunately run) but… their posts really bother me. I’m pretty awkward when it comes to talking about feelings and breakups (friend-breakups especially) but I feel a little weird about doing that too, especially since our mutual friends don’t know/notice it as much and it would make it weird with them (potentially). I’ve been praying for her since we met, and my Christian friend who knows about these posts (we talk about it often, trying to figure out what to do) has been too. That friend (the problematic one) has been posting stuff like that steadily for years, but it’s not nearly as bad and it used to be pretty few and far between. Now, it’s practically every other post, with random political stuff in between. They never used to be like this, at least not very openly. They claim to be atheist, but then will say they pray once or twice, joined a Christian youth group server I made (supposedly to learn; they did show interest at one point in becoming Christian but hadn’t really since then) and then will essentially blaspheme as much as humanly possible the next minute.

I guess I’m just lost about what I should do with this situation. I’ve been praying about it, but can you please give me some advice about what I should do? Sorry for the long ask!

Heya! I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this.

I think you should maintain the friendship and continue to share the Gospel with them as long as they'll allow it. Do your best to ignore what they say in their posts. Try to give them as much grace as you possibly can, and give every interaction with them as much joy, compassion, and mercy as you can summon. Live the Christian way openly and unapologetically. Let them see it. Talk about the Lord constantly where they can hear it. Be ready to answer their questions as much as possible.

Unbelievers are lost in the dark, and they do dark things. We can't let that stop us from being the hands of Jesus reaching out to them. If the things they say really bother you, ask the Lord for grace and help to deal with it. And of course, ask the Lord to break this person's heart and give them grace to receive the Gospel. No matter how tough it is, we should persist in situations like this.

I hope this helps! Be blessed!

[rametarin]

Fat, disgusting bitch.

venting.

I’m financially forced into a position where I have to either live with family, and thus under their decisions, or dislodge myself and fall into the trash that is homelessness in the position I’m in.

I can’t rise or grow here, but I near guarantee dying and failure in the state I am by trying to leave. So, I sit and wile away here, arguing futily with them to fucking smarten up and stop being such worthless, selfish, pompous pieces of shit, or again, argue with poverty and homelessness and creditlessness and have no support system whatsoever.

A constant struggle I have with my mother is she wants to frivolously spend everything she has as she has it. As someone that sincerely believes that tomorrow doesn’t matter because she believes Jesus will rise us all up, that we’re in, “end times,” it doesn’t matter if she prepares for tomorrow, because she’s praying it won’t and that it’ll come however God wills it.

As an atheist, I hate her disgusting guts, I hate how she has monopolized this belief when it suits her to consume everybody elses money in the family and then trap us in this shared poverty, I hate how she frivolously throws our money around outside the family to shitty causes and shitty people that don’t deserve her charity, just so she can feel like she’s important/in control of other peoples lives. I hate how when she has money, she lords it, and when she doesn’t, she both demands we give up what little we have to pay for essentials and then only ever has money for whatever she wants to buy.

And I hate how, as a fat disgusting bitch, there’s always money in the budget for cookies, snack foods, muffin and cupcake mix, little treats, but none available for anything more meaningful.

I could never have partial dentures/bridges growing up despite needing them, because there was never any money. And yet, the cupboards overflow with shit. She subtly buys too much garbage to simultaneously have whatever she wants to feign with a story, “oh I have no money to pay for it. :((((((((”

She will harass me constantly asking if I, “want anything for my birthday.” I may ask for help paying a dental bill. She’ll grouse at that and ask if I want a videogame or two, or a new television for my room, but I need to pull teeth first to get her to dislodge from this frivolous spending shit and commit to helping me with something I actually need.

And she sincerely thinks she’s clever or perhaps even magical, the way she tries to dishonestly argue how there’s “no money” for anything I want that I actually WANT, but miraculously that exact same amount of cash for something material and pointless, like more videogames.

I like videogames. But you know what I like and want more than any videogame, that videogames, and TVs, and other SHIT can’t replace? Having my needs fulfilled, and not suffering.

Her idea of alleviating suffering isn’t, “fix the problem,” it’s, “suffer while eating cookies and junk food while suffering. You may be suffering but, hey, cookies and junk food.”

And that is why I will not feel bad about fat shaming this selfish, gluttonous fucking cunt. I want to commit myself to something that allows me to fix my suffering and improve my station in life; she wants me to have my income forcibly redistributed so she can... blow it all on cookies and junk food and have ME pay HER necessities, so she can then go, “YOU DON’T TELL ME HOW TO SPEND MY MONEY! ^.^” and buy more god damned cake and pretzels and soda.

And she will insist upon buying this shit, no matter how much it’s rejected. To where the entire point of buying it appears to be to earmark it for this imaginary quota that doesn’t NEED to exist anywhere but her own selfish will. She’ll buy garbage until it overflows the shelves and wastes space in the walking area of the kitchen, but she’ll refuse to stop buying it, even as we have to throw the shit away.

It feels like someone grabbed hold of the ridiculous behaviors women engage in to “trick themselves,” like setting their clock ahead 10 minutes to “trick themselves” into getting up on time and thinking they’re late, but made it an entire lifestyle. She lives in this constant state of bad faith denial and insists upon it, clinging to it as a justifiable position, and demands everybody around and dependent on her function under it as well. Because when you have control and you scream “1+1=3!”, you sit in the shadow of the decision to ignore the math and can’t argue the point. It’s that, or homelessness. And you aren’t prepared to be homeless; you can’t prepare. The house has made damned sure you don’t have the autonomy to survive.

All I fucking wanted was a family that wasn’t a worthless piece of shit. Instead I got this cunt that spent my entire teen years painting us into a corner deliberately so I’d have no chance of escaping before I turned 18, and needed help to progress or function. That’s when she decided it was going to be her way, or the highway. After years of demanding I be the one to put money towards a car, but it be in HER name and with HER as legal owner.

And for that matter; I HATE her idea of dealing with problems. “Just do it and go into debt and pay it off.”

I’m not surprised that the sex most able to access the common decency of people and suck all they’re worth out of them, refuses to accept males lack this capacity. And I’m not surprised by the callous attitude about it when we say, we do not have this sort of unreasonable access to other peoples resources, only to be told, “Well, that may or may not be your problem, but it definitely isn’t mine!” from women, whom float off, unaffected, secure in the knowledge just being a woman gives them charity and access men cannot access, under any circumstance.

I despise being forced into relationships, of any kind, where one person is able to dictate how far we fall together. And I refuse to dig US out, just so she can enjoy the benefits of being a piece of shit, secure someone else will help her.

There is no, “us.” She has failed in every single respect a mother can fail, and I’m not going to provide for her or give her security or safety in her old age. She has done nothing but make my youth and my adult life a living god damned hell made of her pettiness and selfish rage. When I should’ve been experiencing the same teenaged years all my friends got, I was stuck babysitting every night so she could save money... which she then spent on restaurants and movies. She tried to make ME cover the expenses of the family car, and tried to make me pay a landlord’s rent.. as a minor. Anything to justify extracting any money I made, so I couldn’t build wealth while living with her. Anything to justify being the only person with money in the family.

All I fucking wanted was independence and to solve my problems. And these are the things I’m denied.

[angeltreasure]

Cecilia here, how are you doing? I talked with my Priest who's also my spiritual help person, he seemed to think that I should visit the sisters I went to late last month again once I have enough time off work to do so. I agree with him, I'll contact them again here soon if they don't get back to me after this week. The vocation director is a busy woman after all, and there were a lot of women at the retreat recently, like 50-75 at least. I also broke the news to my mom finally about discerning. It went better than expected, she's just confused more than against it, she was not surprised though since I've thought about religious life before and had tried to tell her. Her biggest hangup is that she might not get grandkids if I don't get married since my brother made it very clear he doesn't want kids. She kept making jokes about the Sound of Music musical saying once I'm a novice I can find a rich widower with like 7 kids and then marry him. I appreciate that it's off my chest with her, but I don't know how to broach the subject with my brother, he's now an atheist in a band out of state in a relationship with a trans woman saying he's nonbinary himself. So I'm not really sure how to tell him I'm wanting to go into religious life. Pray for my family please to come to the faith once more and that they will find it in their hearts to let me explore God's call, along with the repose of my Grandaunt and Granduncle since they passed away last week, we're going to their funeral on Monday both of them were uber Catholic, 101 and 97 respectively. God Bless.

Hello Cecilia!,

I’ll pray for you and all of those intentions! I’ve been good. I am hanging in there. I haven’t told my dad or anyone on my dad’s side yet. I wanted to on Divine Mercy Sunday but something in me said wait. My mom’s side pretty much knows. My mom is for it, and my brothers question if it’s really something I want, while some aunts don’t believe it.

Our bishop just lifted all remaining rules that coronavirus made for our diocese, so I was thrilled when I saw we could have the Precious Blood in Mass!… it will take much prayer. We have a huge parish that keeps growing more and more, it will take at least 80 new volunteers of Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion just for the blood alone to cover all of our Masses! Please pray for us that people eagerly come forward.

On May 27 I’m making my first visit to the cloister I took a ride to, just for meeting up to ask questions. They didn’t offer any overnights yet but we’ll see! The non-cloister also got in touch with me this week, so after their super busy tour of the Eucharistic Miracles displays, they will be reaching out to me one on one from across the country. I still wait for replies from the other two but I look forward to any reply with hope.

My first Rosary with my new materials was better than the Rosary making class! It did fall apart a couple of times, but my I managed to fix it. I presented it to my mom for her birthday because every day she prayers the Rosary…she has so many! One of my aunts wants me to make her one so that’s today’s little project which I’ll take pictures of. Afterwards, I’ll be making them for the poor. All I need is to assemble them and buy larger bags to place them in along with a print out of how to pray the Rosary. I have so many materials, it’s been quite exciting to plan some designs in my head.

I was Lector 1 today at Mass. My pastor gave every ministry tips/training notes. Ours was having a good pause at the end of our reading before saying “The Word of the Lord….”, and he also wants us to dress more modestly this summer. I’m excited for that, so I’ll be shopping around for cardigans and such to cover up more and be more like our lady. I have a ton of veils to mix and match. I’ll have to study next week’s readings too.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Like I said: worth a shot. And that sounds about right for a message to them lol. I don’t know how helpful they’ll be, but at least you were able to re-upload the missing chapters! Still a dick thing to do on their end, though lolol

I also hope things gets better soon— I hope, beg, wish, pray that things gets better. There’s just so much, so little time, so much mental stuff. I don’t even know how I’d start to put it into words.

I’m glad you’ve settled in the UK🥰 Is it weird being there? I don’t really know where you used to live (obviously), but I can only imagine how big of a change that must’ve been regardless. Glad work is going good as well👍

As for the Egyptians and Iftar thing, bruh that is so fucking funny🤣🤣 except for how it makes you uncomfortable to go, that is not funny and I’m sorry. But if they give you backlash for something like being atheist, then they aren’t worth the worry.

I get the whole lonely thing, especially if you’ve moved somewhere new (lord do I know how that feels🙃🙃) as well as being touched starved (again: 🙃🙃). Good luck on your quest to getting a boyfriend to live out your fan fiction fantasies😔✊ I know you’ll make plenty friends and such, but you also have us in the mean time🤗

i sent them a report. let's see 😪 honestly the issue is losing the comments and reblogs people left behind. so annoying.

i understand. things can get so overwhelming that you just don't know what to do or don't have the energy to sort it out. but most of the time it does get better, it just takes time unfortunately.

nah it's okay i know it's funny. i kind of felt like an imposter sitting there and hearing them discuss what is haram and what is not 😂

lmao i don't even want to live out my fanfiction fantasies as those are too hardcore. i just need a normal relationship to get me through the day. there is this cute dude that started his rotation in the ED with us lately and he'd be the perfect fit because he's only staying with us 4 months so if things go south, it's no big deal lmao if only he'd give me the time of day lol brits are a bit more unapproachable than other ethnicities. or maybe it's because i feel like i can bother the egyptians or even the nigerians (the two other most prevelant ethnicities in our ED) as much as i want without them getting pissed off but i'd be hesitant to impose myself on the brits as much 😂

but anyway thank you babe ❤️

[greers]

rory greer 

“and i ended a friendship on the day that i left, and though i really meant it, it still makes me upset am i losin' my family every minute i’m gone? what if my little brother thinks my leaving was wrong?” right now, gracie abarams. 

full name — rory greer nickname(s) — none  name meaning — red king age — twenty-nine date of birth — march 31st place of birth — thistleberry valley  star sign — aries sun, sagittarius moon, scorpio rising  current location — thistleberry valley  gender — non-binary pronouns — they/them sexual orientation — bisexual, demisexual  religion — atheist  occupation — owner of greer carpentry  education level — photography journalism    family — richard ‘richie’ greer ( older brother, unknown ), joseph greer ( grandpa ) finances — struggle bus   spoken languages — english, spanish 

character inspos: john bender ( the breakfast club ), selina kyle ( batman ), steven hyde ( that 70’s show ), patrick verona ( 10 things i hate about you ), boromir ( lord of the rings ), alex karev ( greys anatomy ), steve harrington ( stranger things ), eleanor shellstrop ( the good place ), ferris bueller ( ferris buellers day off ) 

tw: brother goes missing, dysfunctional family 

rory’s parents were never meant to be parents, that’s what their grandpa joe used to say as he watched his grandchildren at the back of the shop whenever rory asked too many questions. they were a curious child and lacked something that many kids their age seemed to have. it didn’t feel like a loss, not in the way that it did for richie. but rory wouldn’t realize this until much later. 

it’s easy being in a constant state of survival if you don’t realize that you’re in it in the first place. grandpa joe gave them the best life that he could, it’s not easy tailing after a rambunctious child and their gloomy older brother who’s got a permanent eyebrow raised to the sky as they look down at their younger sibling. whenever rory got hurt their brother was always there to pick them up off of the ground. 

their grandpa joe had the greery carpentry business for as long as he’s been in town ( so must of his life, rory would say with an eyeroll to anyone that asked ). there was a time when he thought that he would pass it on to his son but his son skipped out right when rory was born but richie never had the kind of dreams that rory did and was prepped to take over the company when their grandpa couldn't. 

when rory graduated they left to new york city and climbed the social latter and met the right people, they got their degree and traveled across the world with their camera by their side. they had a natural charm of listening to people and getting them to open up about things, it’s what made them superb at their job. whenever they came back home richie hardly talked to them until they had their big fallout when rory turned twenty-six. 

richie called them selfish and cruel. rory called him a pushover and people pleaser. for two siblings that relied solely on each other growing up this was the kind of fight that wasn't easy to forgive. despite their grandpa trying his best, rory left back to new york, and they stopped talking to each other until about a year ago when their grandpa joe asked if richie was with rory. he wasn’t. 

rory moved back and took their brother’s place at the shop, they have no idea what they’re doing. they have their grandfather’s help from time to time but it’s hard to ask your grandpa for help when it feels like you’re the reason that your brother is gone. 

other things: 

look it looks like they don’t know what they’re doing and like... partially but they have grown up in the shop for all their life so they are not useless it’s just... they haven’t been around much to get to know their customers but they do their best 

grandpa joe is a grandpa to all as far as im concerned 

honestly... rory doesn’t mean to be cruel or selfish it’s just a defense mechanism and i don’t even think they’re cruel or selfish just sometimes a little flighty -- richie hit a low blow in the fight and rory has been spiralling about it ever since 

they probably do some freelance with their major. but they’ve probably given up on their actual career by the time they came back 

they’re a good photographer tho.. just it’s now a hobby than it is a job  , they used to travel all over the world to work on journalistic pieces so coming back home to a slower life is... kind of terrifying 

they’re annoying bc they’re naturally talented and p much are able to pick up anything easily 

looking for old best friends , etc 

[supergeekie]

Starting My Journey

Happy Lunar New Year, Everyone!!

For those who don’t follow my twitter, I’ve been trying to better my health and I’ve found the best way to do that is to try and get the biggest support system I can and be HONEST with them.

So today, I’m going to start a weekly update on some things I’m doing and welcome any feedback and advice and hopefully we can all progress together!  I’m doing this on tumblr because it’s easier to ramble here... don’t judge me.

So welcome to my first Self-Care Sunday!

So today I am 9% to my goal which is not much but every little helps.  And today I want to talk about something important.

Meditation

Now while I am trying to improve my physical health, spiritual and mental health is a huge part of that.  So I actually make a point to mediate twice a day.  But honestly, even once or twice a week can be enough to make a huge impact on your mental state.

Now I’ve been meditating since I was in high school so it comes naturally to me but there are a lot of resources out there if you’re just getting started.  Some are free... some not so much.  Find what works for you!  And if you’re of the religious persuasion, there are many ways of connecting to the spiritual in any faith.  Morning and evening prayers, centering prayers, liturgical music... whatever you need to get in touch with the spiritual.  And if you’re atheist?  ...Sorry, can’t help you.

In my case, I actually start the day meditating.  Some people jump out of bed in the morning saying “Thank God for another glorious day!!”  But me?  I usually want to lie in bed saying “Lord, give me the strength to get through another day.”  And so I both ask for that strength and give myself that strength too.  I need a moment to adjust to being alive again, so I make it a point to hit the snooze button every morning.  And in that 3-9 minutes I just take a moment to breathe.  Just be aware of my body and my surroundings.  I try not to think about what I have to do that day quite yet (despite my hungry cats) and I just focus on being.  Now you may ask “But how do you keep yourself from falling asleep again?”  Well uh... OK, I do fall back asleep more often that I would like to admit.  But that’s OK, likely my mind and body needed that little extra rest.  I just have to be sure I’m ready to face the day when the alarm goes off a second time.

The second time I meditate is right before I go to bed.  This is a much longer mediation, usually around 30 minutes.  I have a few methods I like to use for this.  There are many videos out there for meditation.  Either walking you through one or just soothing sights and sounds to help calm you.  In my case I don’t use those for a few reasons.  As someone who has done this a long time, the instructional voice is more distracting than helpful.  And the videos cast light into my room which is what I’m trying to avoid.  I turn down the lights an hour before meditating.  I also make a point of turning off my computer and TV at this point but I will admit it’s harder to let go of my phone... but I do attempt to look at the screen more sparingly.  So instead I just listen to calming music (although white noise is just as valid).  I either listen to a half hour playlist or turn on the iheartradio app and put on the half hour sleep timer (the drawback of this is the adds but if you’re able to pay for add free it might work for you).  As you can imagine, I do this as I attempt to fall asleep.  The timer is critical but I’ll go over that later.  First, what’s important is the mental state going in.  I begin to meditate on the day.  Not everything I did wrong, but everything I did right.  Some days may seem like a failure but the best way to improve is not focus on what you got wrong but on what went well and vowing to repeat such patterns going forward.  Even if all you did was get out of bed, brush your teeth, wash your face... whatever successes you had, focus on them.  As for the limit to the music, as I mentioned I do this meditation to more easily fall asleep.  If the music ends and I’m still awake enough to be aware of it, it means I’m having insomnia and I need to restart.  I’ll go into more detail how I do this some other week.

I think that’s about it.  Let me know if you guys have any questions, tips, or ideas and I’ll see you in the coming weeks!

[automatismoateo]

Please help every one I know is Christian and they think Im insane for being an atheist. via /r/atheism

Please help, every one I know is Christian and they think I’m insane for being an atheist. I happen to have an iatrogenic injury from Medicine. So I have a neurological brain injury. Nonetheless I am in a group of thousands of other people who also have a similar injury, and they are all super hard-core Christians who quote scripture and say praise the Lord all the time. Every single thing they think or feel revolves around God or Jesus or something. I tell them I’m not into that - I wasn’t raised with religion. my parents told me that I could believe in whatever I wanted, so I used my logical brain and believe just in science. They continuously tell me if I don’t find God then I’m going straight to hell. What should I do? I’m in Texas and sadly now in a rural hell-hole, so I’m surrounded by puritanical insanity. Thanks. Submitted October 06, 2024 at 07:29AM by mallorykeaton73 (From Reddit https://ift.tt/ZtyQrhE)

[lesfeldickbiblestudy]

  Through the Bible with Les Feldick Lesson 3 * PART 3 * BOOK 79 PART 5 of the MESSIANIC PROPHECIES - PART 3 Psalms 68, 69, and 72 Okay, once again it’s good to have you all back from break. For those of you out in television, remember we’re producing four programs in a row, and we always take a coffee break in between.  So this is the beginning of program number three for the afternoon.  For those of you who have been listening, we again want to thank you for your prayer support, your financial support, and for your mail.  Oh, how we enjoy our letters.  Rarely, rarely, do we get a letter that we’d just as soon never have seen.  It does happen but not very often. We’re going to continue now in our study in the Psalms. We are finishing up with our book number 79.  We still have our Question and Answer Book available.  And for those of you who have heard about it but have never got one, it’s still available if you just call or write the ministry. We send them out postage paid and everything for just eleven bucks.  I’ve said I’m not going to put prices on the air, because then if something happens and these programs come out three or four years from now, I’ll wish I wouldn’t have said anything.  But we’ve had them now for several years at $11, and we hope we can continue to do that.  Many say it’s most helpful in answering questions you may have about the Bible. We’re a Bible study, and we’re going to go right back at that.  We’re going to move into the next Messianic Psalm, and that is 69.  The next one after 69 is 72.  And remember what I said earlier—a Messianic Psalm is where the writer of the Psalm (usually David) prophecies and so much of it is tied to our New Testament and Christ’s earthly ministry and so forth. Now this particular Psalm 69 is definitely going back to His pre-crucifixion suffering.  How He suffered at the hands of His covenant people Israel.  So the language, again, is as if—like we had in earlier Psalms—as though the Lord Himself is saying it, but it’s through the pen of David by inspiration. So when it says in the first verse, “Save me, O God;” it’s coming from the lips of the Lord Jesus.  It’s in His pre-crucifixion suffering and anxiety. Psalms 69:1-2a “Save me, O God; for the waters are come in unto my soul. 2. I sink in deep mire,…”  Now you’ve got to constantly remember His agony in the Garden and leading up to His suffering of the cross itself.  All these are references to that whole event. Psalms 69:2 “I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing: I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me.”  In other words, all of the ramifications of that work of the cross are just flowing over Him. Psalms 69:3-4a “I am weary of my crying: my throat is dried: mine eyes fail while I wait for my God.  (Now that’s all evident again from His suffering on the cross itself.) 4. They that hate me without a cause (There’s no reason for them to hate Him so.  But they did.) are more than the hairs of mine head: (That is in number.) they that would destroy me,…”  Now remember, what did they cry out?  Crucify Him.  Away with Him. Let’s go back and look at John chapter 15, which is exactly a quote from this very Psalm.  John chapter 15 verse 25 and, again, I’m doing this to show the meticulousness and the intricacy of Scripture. Now I’m just reminded. Somebody sent us in the mail the other day a special publication by one of our major news magazines.  I won’t name it.  I don’t want to get in trouble  But it was garbage from cover-to-cover.  And it was supposedly showing people how to read their Bible.  Why, I wrote back to the lady.  I said, “How in the world could you even spend five minutes reading garbage?  It’s written by atheists, or at least people who have absolutely no respect for the Word of God.”  I mean they just chewed it up and spit it out.  The Apostle Paul was worse than an infidel.  He was worse than the worst of criminals.  And that’s the impression that they put on people who read that stuff.

Well, I want to confront that kind of thing with the perfectness of our Bible.  It is not something to be chewed up and spit out!  It is not something to be ridiculed and scorned and laughed at as though it was written by a bunch of rogues!  This is the inspired Word of God, and here it proves it.  What David wrote back in the Psalms came from the lips of the Lord Jesus Himself.  Now, John’s Gospel chapter 15 verse 25, and it’s in red if you’ve got a red-letter edition. John 15:25 “But this cometh to pass, that the word might be fulfilled that is written in their law, They hated me without a cause.”  Now remember, the Psalms are all part of the Old Testament record, so it is part of the Law.  This is the exact wording from the Psalms.  So here again, what I’ve got to constantly point out, is that the Scripture is so intricately put together.  Now back to Psalms 69.  Keep your hand up there in John.  We’re coming back to Corinthians in just a minute. Psalms 69:4 “They that hate me without a cause are more than the hairs of mine head: they that would destroy me, being mine enemies wrongfully, (Israel had no reason to hate Him so.  He hadn’t done them anything wrong except oppose their wickedness and sinfulness.) are mighty: then I restored that which I took not away.” Psalms 69:5 “O God, (In other words, God the Son is crying out to the Father.) thou knowest my foolishness; and my sins are not hid from thee.”  Now be a Bible student.  Be a Berean.  What’s He talking about?  His own sin?  No!  He had none.  So whose sins are we talking about?  The sins of the world. Now come up to the New Testament for the answer. That would be in II Corinthians chapter 5. I don’t know what number it is, but I know it’s the last verse in the chapter.  II Corinthians chapter 5 verse 21.  This is what He’s talking about.  I’ll wait until you find it.  II Corinthians chapter 5 verse 21.  Well, we’d better read verse 20. II Corinthians 5:20-21 “Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, (Paul writes) as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you (we beg you) in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God. 21. For (And that’s why I had to read that verse.) For he (God) hath made him (God the Son.  Jesus of Nazareth.  God hath made Jesus--) to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.”  So what sin is He talking about in the Psalms?  The sin of the world that was laid on Him.  Don’t ever lose that.  All our sin from Adam to the end was laid on Him.  That’s why the movie that Gibson produced didn’t even scratch the surface.  All that showed was some of His human suffering.  But where was the majority of His suffering?  In His Spirit as a Member of the Godhead who took upon Himself all the sin of every human who ever lived.  We can’t comprehend that.  That’s why it took a person of the Godhead to do the work of salvation.  No human being can take on the sins of mankind.  And that’s why I confronted a little Muslim girl one time.  I said, “Does the Koran give you a Savior who could take upon Himself your sin?”  Well, I don’t think she even knew what I was talking about.  But see, the whole concept of Scripture is that one of the Members of the Godhead, the Creator Himself, became the epitome of sin.  That’s why God had to turn His head from Him.  That’s why He could not look on Him, because He was covered with the sins of mankind. Now back to Psalms 69.  I hope I can make that clear, that when He speaks of my sins, it wasn’t His personal sin.  He had none.  But He became sin on our behalf that we might have His righteousness imputed to us.  Verse 6: Psalms 69:6-7a “Let not them that wait on thee, O Lord GOD of hosts, be ashamed for my sake: let not those that seek thee be confounded for my sake, O God of Israel. 7. Because for thy sake I have borne reproach;…” And why did He bear the reproach to become the Savior? By becoming the Savior, lost humanity could be given the opportunity to get right with God the Father?  It all fits if we just understand how it all shakes out.  So verse 7 again.

Psalms 69:7a “Because for thy sake…”  Remember, what did He pray in the Garden?  “Not My will, but Thine be done.”  And what was the will of the Father?  That this plan of salvation could be completed, so that lost mankind could be brought back into a relationship with God the Father.  Now verse 8: Psalms 69:8 “I am become a stranger unto my brethren, (His fellow Jews) and an alien unto my mother’s children.”  Now there’s one group of people that don’t like that verse.  And who are they? Well, the Roman Catholics are just exercised by the thought that Jesus had physical brothers.  Yes, Mary and Joseph had sons beyond Christ.  She was just a human mother.  She wasn’t the mother of God.  She was the mother of human beings.    So here is a good verse to show these people.  That He is “an alien unto my mother’s (Mary’s) children.” Now stop and think.  When did the family of Joseph and Mary recognize and believe who Jesus was?  Not until after, I think, His crucifixion.  Hey, they detested Him just as much as anybody else in Nazareth for the longest time.  But I think they finally came to believe that He was who He said He was.  So it’s evident that Joseph and Mary had other children after Christ was born (Matthew 13:55-56).  All right, read it again. Psalms 69:8-9 “I am become a stranger unto my brethren, (His fellow Jews.  His family) and an alien (He was a castoff.) unto my mother’s children. (Who would have been His physical brothers.  Half brothers!) 9. For the zeal of thine house hath eaten me up; and the reproaches of them that reproached thee are fallen upon me.”  In other words, all the anger of Israel in rebellion against the Grace of God—they heaped on Him with their scorn and their ridicule and their demand in that He be crucified. Psalms 69:10-11 “When I wept, and chastened my soul with fasting, that was to my reproach. 11. I made sackcloth also my garment; and I became a proverb to them.”  Now what’s He referring to?  Did He walk up and down the streets and highways of Israel in the apparel of the kings and queens?  NO!  But what?  As almost one who had nothing. And I think He put it best when He said that birds have nests and animals have dens but He does not have a place to lay His head.   See, He was absolutely the poorest of the poor from the physical aspect, so that no one could use that as an excuse for rejecting Him.    He was right on their level, and yet, they hated Him.   Verse 11 again: Psalms 69:11 “I made sackcloth also my garment; (He dressed and He walked and He lived like the lowest of the low.) and I became a proverb to them.”  Now, a proverb in Scripture is a word of scorn.  And not only that, but you come down a little further and He was the subject of the drunkards’ singing. Well, I’ve never been around drunkards.  Thank goodness.  Even in service, I was spared that.  I’ve had very little contact with drunks.  But I can about imagine that if you get a bunch of them together, they start singing their ribald type songs and all of the filth associated with it.  And you see, that’s what He’s saying, that even the drunks of Israel—and don’t think there weren’t any—the drunks of Israel even used His name as part of their drunken singing. Psalms 69:12a “They that sit in the gate speak against me;…”  Now in Old Testament language, what did that refer to?  To the city fathers.  To the Magistrates.  They were the ones who were referred to as sitting in the gates. Psalms 69:12b-14a “…and I was the song of the drunkards. (as I’ve already mentioned.) 13. But as for me, my prayer is unto thee, O LORD, in an acceptable time: O God, in the multitude of thy mercy hear me, in the truth of thy salvation. 14. Deliver me out of the mire,…”  In other words, out of this place of reproach and out of this position of being so hated. Psalms 69:14b-15 “…let me be delivered from them that hate me, and out of the deep waters. (That is the waters of emotional despair.) 15. Let not the waterflood overflow me, neither let the deep swallow me up, and let not the pit shut her mouth upon me.”

In other words, what He’s pleading with the Father is that He will be able to sustain life until He can fulfill the work of the cross. Because that’s what He set His mind as flint, remember, to fulfill.  He had to fulfill the work of the cross. Psalms 69:16-18 “Hear me, O LORD; for thy lovingkindness is good: turn unto me according to the multitude of thy tender mercies. 17. And hide not thy face from thy servant; (But did He?  Yes.  God turned from Him.  He couldn’t look on all that sin.) for I am in trouble:  hear me speedily (or instantly). 18. Draw nigh unto my soul, and redeem it: deliver me because of mine enemies.” Now I’m curious.  As I’m teaching these for the last several programs, I haven’t heard too much except good.  But even for you in the studio, have any of you ever read these Psalms with this concept?  No.  I’m sure most of you haven’t.  But this is what the whole idea is.  That David was being inspired to write the very things that would be fulfilled in the life of Christ.    And that’s the beauty of the Psalms in this light. Psalms 69:18-19 “Draw nigh unto my soul, and redeem it: deliver me because of mine enemies. (Who were attempting and preparing to crucify Him.) 19. Thou hast known my reproach, and my shame, and my dishonor: mine adversaries are all before thee.”  Now again, was it His personal reproach?  No.  It was the reproach that was poured on Him because of who He was taking the place of. Now that wasn’t very good grammar, was it?  But here we have this whole concept.  He became my what?  Substitute!  He took my place.  But not just mine, but every one of you in this room and not just us in Oklahoma—but for every human being around the planet, He became their substitute. But again, as I’ve always mentioned, how much good is it until you appropriate it by faith.    We have to appropriate it by faith.  For our salvation in this Age of Grace we must believe in our heart that Jesus died for our sins, was buried, and rose again—as we are taught in I Corinthians 15:1-4. And that’s what most of the world doesn’t want to have anything to do with.  They want nothing to do with these things.  Okay, reading on, verse 20. Psalms 69:20 “Reproach hath broken my heart; (And we know His heart was smitten because of His love for the human race—for Israel first, yes, but also for the whole human race.) and I am full of heaviness: I looked for some to take pity, but there was none; and for comforters, but I found none.”  Where were the Twelve?  What’s the expression I usually use, especially for us in Oklahoma?  They were scattered like a covey of quail.  Pfffft.  They weren’t there commiserating there with Him.  Now verse 21, you jump right up to the cross. Psalms 69:21 “They gave me also gall for my meat; and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.”  I don’t think I have to reference that, do I?  That’s back in Matthew as plain as day. Matthew 27, for those of you who aren’t acquainted with it. Psalms 69:22a “Let their table…” Whose table?  Israel’s.  How did the Psalmist put it in Psalms 23?  “Thou preparest” what?  “A table before me.” Now, I’ve had people call or write and ask—what’s He writing about?  Well, just use some common sense.  When Israel was in that Covenant relationship with the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, they were in that favored place.  Now granted, they didn’t sit down to a banquet table in some great hall in one of the great capital cities of the world.  But spiritually speaking, where could a Jew feast any day of the week?  At God’s table.  And I think it’s the same for you and me as believers.  We have the option.  We can feast at God’s table 24/7, can’t we?  And what is it?  The Word of God! And so it was with Israel.  They had the Word.  They had the Old Testament. So when it speaks of feasting at God’s table, I feel it is that they had the wherewithal to feast on things of God’s Word.  Now verse 22, here we have a quote used by the Apostle Paul. Psalms 69:22-23 “Let their table become

a snare before them: and that which should have been for their welfare, let it become a trap. 23. Let their eyes be darkened, that they see not; and make their loins continually to shake.” Now let’s move up and see how Paul uses that in Romans chapter 11.  We’ll probably almost finish our five minutes back here.  Romans chapter 11 verse 1, but the verse I want to really take out of the Psalm, of course, is clear up here at verses 9 and 10.  But we can’t skip all these good introductory words. Romans 11:1a “I say then, (Paul says) Hath God cast away his people?...”  Well, you see, there’s a multitude of people today that would say yes.  They’re trying to tell us that God’s all through with Israel, and that they disappeared and so forth.  Don’t you believe it.  The Word of God says He will never cast them away. Romans 11:1-3 “I say then, Hath God cast away his people? God forbid. (Just don’t even think such a thought.  Why?) For I also am an Israelite, of the seed of Abraham, of the tribe of Benjamin. 2. God hath not cast away his people which he foreknew. (He knew everything that they were going to say, think, and do.) Know ye not what the scripture saith of Elijah? how he maketh intercession to God against Israel, saying, 3. Lord, they have killed thy prophets, and digged down thine altars; and I am left alone, and they seek my life.” Romans 11:4-5a “But what saith the answer of God unto him? I have reserved to myself seven thousand men, (a remnant) who have not bowed the knee to the image of Baal. 5. Even so then (Paul says) at this present time also there is a remnant…” A small percentage of those Jews of Jesus’ day who had recognized and believed that He was the Promised Messiah.  But the vast majority?  No. Romans 11:6 “And if by grace, then it is no more works: otherwise grace is no more grace.  But if it be of works, then it is no more grace:…”  Now, that almost sounds like double-talk.  But he’s saying flat out, you can’t mix grace and works.  You cannot do it, because then you get a conglomerated mess.  Now verse 7, here we come. Romans 11:7a “What then?  (Now if Israel has never had more than a small remnant of true believers, is it any different today?) Israel hath not obtained that which he seeketh for;…” Now stop right there.  What has Israel been on the surface looking for?  This glorious King and Kingdom.  Oh, they wanted that.  They wanted those Gentiles off the streets of Jerusalem. My, I’ll never forget.  The first time we stopped at Caesarea, the guide pointed out at the gates to the city, stone pillars.  There were grooves where the Roman stirrups were constantly hitting those gateposts.  Grooves into the stone.  Well, that just told you that it was a constant riding back and forth of those Roman legions into their city.  And the Jews hated them.  Well, we would too.  You know, we’re so blessed.  We’ve never been under the heavy boot of an adversary.  But Israel was.  So here it is.  They wanted that king.  They wanted their kingdom.  But to get it God’s way?  No way. Romans 11:7b “…but the election hath obtained it, and the rest were blinded. (Now this is the thing that I have a hard time comprehending.  And yet it’s a fact of Scripture that Israel has been blinded when they should have been able to comprehend.) Israel hath not obtained that which he seeketh for; but the election (that little remnant) hath obtained it, and the rest were blinded.”  Oh my, now I’ve got to hurry. Romans 11:8-10 “(According as it is written, God hath given them the spirit of slumber, (That is Spiritual.) eyes that they should not see, and ears that they should not hear;) unto this day. (Now here Paul goes back to Psalms 69.) 9. And David saith, Let their table be made a snare, and a trap, (In other words, they were proud of their relationship as the Sons of Abraham.) and a stumbling block, and a recompence unto them: 10. Let their eyes be darkened, that they may not see, and bow down their back always.”  Now Paul continues on.

Romans 11:11 “I say then, (Now here’s what we have to take to heart.) Have they stumbled (the Nation of Israel) that they should fall? (And be completely out of God’s program, and what’s his answer?) God forbid:(Don’t think such a thought.) but rather through their fall salvation has come to the Gentiles, for to provoke them to jealousy.” Romans 11:12 “Now if the fall of them be the riches of the world, (That is the work of the cross becoming the Plan of Salvation—Gospel of Grace for the Gentile world.) and the diminishing of them the riches of the Gentiles: how much more their (What?) fullness.” Oh, their day of Glory is still ahead of them.  Yes, they’ve had a rough 2,000 years.  We know that.  But God hasn’t given up on the Jew.  God hasn’t given up on Israel.  The best is yet to come.  That’s why we admonish to—what?   Pray for the peace of Jerusalem.