#MY Rook would worship this guy. Personally

[heliomanteia]

So do we agree that Rook absolutely gives Davrin hand kisses? You know, after all the fights and whittling, when they’re alone. Or when they casually approach him in between tasks. Maybe right before going off on a mission, regardless whether he is joining them this time or not. A quick and casual touch like it’s the easiest thing in the world. And it is.

[chaddywaddy3]

Reman Cyrodiil, the first Emperor after Alesia is a man of legends. He is no doubt a real person, however, as a man that was worshiped his origins and accomplishments may be exaggerated or embellished. I'll do my best to cover it all for you guys.

⚠️Slight Trigger Warning ⚠️

This post will contain some sexual references though not explicit I wanted to warn you.

As always this post contains my own head canons. I will make it clear when I reference the source material from in game sources, dev interviews, or kirkbride faux lore. Alright I've kept you waiting long enough let's get into it.

I think the start of Reman's story really starts with Pelinal Whitestrake who 2000 years before, screamed Reman's name atop the same hill he was born out of. I think it is important to start here because it's important to understand that Reman's story is shrouded in legend and hearsay. In my opinion he was a great emperor and he united Cyrodiil after the Colovians and Nibenese split but its hard to say if his demigod (borderline god) status is accurate.

I'll summarize Reman's origin story from the "Remanada" a book you can find in games from Oblivion onward. Then I will go into my own thoughts.

2000 years after the days of Alessia and Pelinal and 400 years after Colovia and the Niben split. King Hroll began to have horrible visions of serpents. This drove him to make an excursion with 17 of his men in search of a solution to the nightmarish visions and to join his kingdom that had been split in two.

At some point in their journey saint Alessia herself appeared to the King and his men and scolded them for letting her people stray from the dragon fires. After saying her piece she fled into the forested hills around them and Hrol and his men scattered to try and catch her.

Hrol and his right hand eventually caught up to her but it becomes unclear if he actually confessed his love to the spirit of Alessia and slept with her or if he did the deed with the hill itself. But his friend carved "and Hrol did love unto a hillock" into a nearby stone then passed away. And Hrol himself was found naked face down in the mud dead from... exhaustion after completing the deed. The remaining men returned but would not say what happened and only acted embarrassed for Hrol.

In the next nine months the mound of mud slowly grew into a mountain and a community built itself around it and named the hill Sancre-Tor. At the end of the nine months they heard a baby crying from the top of the small mountain so a shapardess went up and found Reman there and he had the amulet of kings embedded in his forehead.

They took the baby to the throne and set him on it after making quite the scene. And the baby Reman spoke with an adult voice and said "I am Cyrodill come"

Under his rule Cyrodill became whole again and he was able to thwart the Akaviri invasion and convince them to join him as the dragon born but I feel like his adult life needs to be a whole other post.

Now, it's hard to say how much of this legend is true because... well its a bit of a meme if I'm completely honest. A dude nuts in a pile of mud and then then Remans first words are "I am Cyrodill come??"

I think bits and pieces of this story are true. I do think that Hrol went on a fruitless journey to sole the problem he kept seeing in his dreams. However I believe that he and his shield thane went crazy after they claimed to have seen Alessia and went chasing after her. I have a theory that they went crazy and killed eachother or themselves and yeah maybe Hroll did the nasty with a puddle of mud but that was because he was out of his mind.

In my opinion, it would be more believable that Reman was a wealthy, high born colovian, perhaps even a bastard son of Hrol, that rose in the heiarchy of the Cyrodiillic government at the time and eventually rook the throne. The stories of king Hrol discharging into the soil to create Reman could have been spread among the people to secure his, most likely shaky claim to the throne.

The claims of Reman being dragon born could be true as evidenced by the akaviri temples and the organization of the blades.

If you read this far thank you so much and I am sorry this one took so long i had to wade through a lot of fan theory and lore writen like the bible for some god firsaken reason. Let me know if you liked it

This topic was suggested by @spooky-donut-ghost-house probably as a joke but here we are

[punkforkos]

@deityofhearts yippee!!! It makes me really happy that you’re interested in my guys!! (And again, tysm for the compliments ;w;)

I laurvv to blab about my ocs so here we go!!

To explain this piece, I'll have to get into his backstory a little bit!

Daniel Bishop (Cain's real name) was born as the result of a one-night stand between his mother, Laura Bishop, and a man he'd never meet... she was young and on her own, so she turned to one of the churches to help her through the pregnancy.

This ended up being a big mistake because the church itself was basically a cult? The deity they devoted themselves to was a made-up figure called Tesarin, the goddess of humility and kindness. As it turns out, the church was a scam that preyed on the desperate, trying to keep its followers subservient and poor, content with receiving meager things so that they would work for cheap. Staying humble ensured good things would come your way, or so they said.

Cain's mother fully believed in this idea and dedicated herself to the church. They helped her through her child's birth and let her recover, but when the time came, she was assigned to work at a noble household as part of her worship to pay back that kindness.

And from the time when he was old enough to work, Cain served as a child servant to this noble household. He resented it because he saw how hard the work was for his mother (and for himself); she tried her best to stay positive but it was difficult to always keep up the mask. He didn't really want to believe in the god or its promises, but he still prayed for his mother's sake.

However, when he was 18, the noble household ended up being attacked and the whole family was murdered, along with his mother and a few of the other workers. Cain only survived because he had stowed himself away in the basement. This absolutely destroyed Cain, who fully denounced all gods in the world for not intervening in this tragedy. How could they let something like that happen to someone who didn't deserve it? Someone who had so much faith?

He burned down the manor and all of its bad memories with it... but the survivor's guilt never once left him. He honestly feels like a part of him died that day and he mourns that child all the same. He began working under a new name and identity entirely (becoming Cain Rook or C.Rook) and started his life as a criminal... always running from his past.

I'm trying so hard to be relatively brief about this but I could go on and on abt the inner dynamics he had with the members of the noble family, with his mother, with himself, and his perception of how everything went down. And about how he lived his life before he met his party members!! I could go on about his story of growth, but that's not what this piece is abt!!! So I'm putting the muzzle on.

If you wanted to see his backstory in a visual way, here's an old comic I made that depicts it!! <<

Now to explain the themes and the piece itself!!

Fire is an obvious one!! He was the one who set his past ablaze, he's the one who crawled out of its ashes, and he's the one who gets to experience rebirth throughout his story.

Cain's name and the identity change are a huge part of his personal story. The chess theme stems a lot from this, going from a Bishop to a Rook, a pious figure becoming a crook. Lots of wordplay happening with this one. And if you'll indulge my tarot mentions, the Rook piece looks a lot like a tower! (The Tower represents a major, sudden and unexpected change. Destruction, catastrophe, but also can be the start of something fresh.)

Hands end up becoming a big visual motif when I do pieces like this for Cain... because in his nightmares, he's always seeing people reaching out for him, blaming him for being the sole survivor or trying to drag him back down with them.

And because you've made it this far, I'll share some of the old symbolism pieces I've made for Cain! Left one features Cain and the eldest daughter of the noble family, Adelaide. Right one is all about Cain's religious trauma and how he mourns his old self 😭

ouughj... i can yap abt him for eternity.

It's a tradition at this point to draw symbolic backstory pieces for Cain. he's got oh so much religious trauma and survivor's guilt. poor boy...

>> my carrd | ko-fi | inprnt <<

[frenchfrywrites]

Brain is melting all I know is Rook and Malleus threesome-

Okay OBVIOUSLY you’d have to start foreplay with you playing with Malleus, kissing, light touching, taking his clothes off, etc. while Rook watches you two and adds commentary while maybe teasing his nipples or stroking his body. I don’t think he’d start touching himself just cause he’d want to last as long as possible.

But then thinking of all the possibilities after that omg. I’m gonna start off with afab Rook and amab Malleus but you can interpret them differently and I’d love to hear your thoughts! But I just keep thinking of double penetration with Rook, you can get him to ride your dick/strap and then spread your legs so Malleus can get right up behind Rook to start fucking into his ass. I feel like if you sandwiched him between the both of you his brain would start melting and it might be one of the only times Rook is at a loss for words and can only moan and drool.

Speaking of drool omfg the amount of drool they would have..! I think Rook would probably drool a lot cause he can’t stop talking and moaning so he wouldn’t remember to swallow his spit. But Malleus omg I think it’d be so cute if he just drooled when he felt even the smallest bit of pleasure. (I’m gonna say it’s cause he’s a dragon fae even if that doesn’t make sense cause whatevs). He’d be nibbling and licking you or if you aren’t close enough to his mouth you’d be able to see him snarling as the pleasure overwhelms him and the drools starts seeping through his teeth and down his neck. Fuck him hard enough that is swings down his cheek. Also they’d both totally let you spit in their mouth, in fact, kiss Malleus with lots of tongue in front of Rook and then order Malleus to spit in his mouth, you’d be able to see hearts in his eyes as he swallows it.

Kinda side note but I think Rook would be a very fun person to have a threesome with and there are so many possibilities! Rook and Vil is a popular one just cause it’s them y’know. But Rook and Leona? You teaching Rook everything he’d want to know about Leona’s weak spots and then teaming up with Leona to learn Rook’s cause it’s only fair you get to learn his weak spots too! Rook and Idia with heavy praise and body worshipping? Sign me tf up! Rook and Lilia, did you mean “two brats that would put on a great show for you just cause they like to show off and look pretty”? You and Trey could oh so innocently tell Rook that being such an amazing hunter must be tiring so you’ve prepared a bath for the three of you and a lot of sweets with whipped cream and chocolate 👀 then you can make one of them cock warm the other while you give them a massage cause yes Trey you need a break too!

WHEW anon, this was such a fun ask to read!!! Love everything in here!!

Rook and Malleus is such an interesting pairing but the more I think about it the more I love it.. Malleus who's mysterious and reserved, and Rook who'd be dying to observe him and pull him apart. Malleus wouldn't have to worry about being forgotten when Rook won't take his eyes of him.

It's interesting that you went with Malleus topping! I love it, but since you said you'd like to hear my thoughts, I personally see Rook as being a much better service top hehe! Regardless of what he's working with, he'd be really invested in getting Malleus off, and omg the praise that he'd give would be life changing for Malleus. That being said, he'd def still be so subby and want directions and orders from you 😇

I do LOVE the idea of double penetration with Rook though! For once the guy who's observing others gets all the attention. I think being sandwiched between you and Malleus would be something that Rook would never be able to forget. He'd be so flustered, and like you said for once in his life he'd be speechless, because he's surrounded by such beauty!!

and OMG drool, let's get into it!! It'd be so so so much fun to see these typically pretty composed guys get very messy 🥵😈!! Both of them would just be shining from how much drool has seeped from their mouths. And yeah I like the idea of Malleus- for whatever reason- being super drooly! Maybe in the beginning, when he's still got a bit of his wits about him, he tries to wipe it away with his arm, and you can see as he sinks further into pleasure how he wipes it away less and less, getting more messy as time continues. Think it'd be very fun to- assuming the same dp position as before- have Rook face Malleus. Their drool would make their chests wet, and when they brush against each other it makes them cling to one another cause it feels so good!!

Ya I fr need to write a threesome fic w rook one of these days, because his chemistry with others is just so much fun!! You can really pair him with most anyone and it works!

[faeflowerz]

Happy Birthday Ruggie Bucchi 🍩

Fun fact: my gf loves hyenas. shes a yeena kin. thats all i got in terms of that.

ok ok ok. i like ruggie. even thouh i call him reggie sometimes. and i make fun of him for being poor. i like him. hes just doin his best. hes a lil gremlin lookin to make it rich. considering my fav demon is mammon, i should be a ruggie fan. i guess i am, but in the way u relate too much to them sometimes and then u resent them

ok that was a tangent. lets do this

Honestly, i think theres not much to say about him. Ruggie is unashamed of who he is, hes honest and hes a reliable guy if you give him enough incentive. He’s a sweet guy and if it wasn’t for everyone else being so eccentric, i would talk about him more. but i guess he doesnt have much going on that really has me going “bro get ur shit together” or “bro ur mask is slipping”

i think with savanaclaw’s case, leona does the heavy lifting with characterization. Leona’s the one with the most baggage so we notice him first. Jack worships Leona and Ruggie is his mother. Leona is their Trait. Leona makes Ruggie a weak character.

This is what makes Ruggie and Jack weaker sidekicks than say, the tweels or even epel and rook. while those characters are usually associated with their dorm leader, they are also individuals who have their own agency and have shown to defy their prefect when its needed or fits them. but they dont have a relationship like leoggie. but jalim does. 

So, my birthday post about jamil is pretty lackluster when i read it now. i went too easy on him in that post but he’s got a lot of conflicts that i would def roast him for. Anyway, Jamil’s complex with Kalim is that Kalim needs someone to look after him. He’s simply a kind of person that needs someone to remind him of things, help him out with difficult and long tasks and just generally make sure he gets his job done as a prefect.

Ruggie isnt tied to Leona through force. At least, not thru servitude. Ruggie deals with Leona because Leona pays him. However, Ruggie has to take on tasks that this prefect just doesnt WANT to do. its not indentured but bartering. Ruggie will get ur food and drag u to class. You give him financial supports and

omg Ruggie is a sugar baby. Okay sorry for breaking that but Ruggie and Leona have a sugar relationship. Thinking about their banter and the way Leona lets Ruggie give him the business makes me think about how close they are. And while I love their insults, I also feel that Ruggie’s too one dimensional sometimes. When he isnt foraging for shit  or working a side hustle, hes stuck doing something for his lazy ass boyfriend.

i want to see less of Ruggie doing his dirty work and more of Ruggie being a housewife individual. Hes a lot more benevolent than he lets on and i think i want more of that.

His birthday interview is also kind of lame. His picks for his dorm and brother all loop back to not starving to death and getting rich. Jade’s gift, while unusual, is very sweet. there’s a lot more to being poor than just not eating. Like, Ruggie is fucking destitute apparently. I always imagined he’d be urban poor but this seems like some other kind of poor. instead of a laundromat (which a lot of low income people use), they use a washtub. 

And he needs to stop the cap. Ruggie would fit in Octa like a glove. If they gave him enough incentive, Ruggie would be turning profits and even learn how to run a business. The tools are there. He’s right about being adaptable, but i think Octa would benefit him in the long run. Plus, i kinda ship him with Jade.

Like i said before, I wanna see more of Ruggie as an individual. He’s a sweetie and I think he’s one of those characters who needs more screentime. Sooo thats it!

Happy Birthday, Ruggie! 🍩🍩🍩🍩

[twstinginthewind]

💋 One of the Sealponte sisters catches the other about to kiss her mirror!

Mia liked Thursdays. On Thursdays, Savvy met up with the art club. And Sia had her weekly third-year meeting to help place them for internships and such for next year. So that meant that Mia had no one else hanging around their shared dorm room.

She could do whatever she wanted to do! She could try on all of her outfits and some of her sister's and put on a personal fashion show! She could use her bed as a stage and sing along with her radio and pretend to be a superstar! She could try to get ahead on her dreaded linguistics homework.... or not. But mostly, she could just lie back on her bed and dream about the one thing this school had more of than anything else: boys.

(Thanks, Idia.)

Now, Mia didn't have any specific crush in mind. Aside from her Absolute Hero Worship of their housewarden, she was more enamored with the idea of being with a cute boyfriend than any one boy in particular. But there was something, she felt, that was keeping her from landing the cutiepie of her dreams.

Mia. Did not. Know how. To kiss.

She knew in theory. Pucker up and press lightly; it couldn't be that hard. And she had kissed, like, family members. On the cheek, and stuff. Mia sighed and rolled onto her side. This was SO not cute. She couldn't be the dateless wonder forever. She was gonna have to figure out how to kiss someone, so she could get herself a sweetie.

But she wasn't sure exactly how. She wasn't about to practice with her sister, that was just ridicu-nasty. Ugh. And she didn't want to admit her lack of knowledge to Savvy, since she was already working on her fast track to landing a prince charming and getting married right away. And Mia was impressed by her hustle, but... that wasn't the life for her. She just wanted to kiss a boy and have some fun!

But she couldn't exactly ask any of the guys she knew to help practice. Epel would laugh right in her face; Rook would decline like a real gentleman, because he's too much of a romantic to waste kisses on practicing. And her face went completely hot thinking about asking Vil, like, at ALL about it. He was just TOO dreamy. She shook her head. No. It'd have to be a perfect kiss if it was for Vil. He deserved that much. No sloppy practice kissies for that man.

Then what was she supposed to do?

Her eyes drifted over to the little vanity table by her desk. Cute fruit-flavored lip balms littered the surface, along with... oho, what's this? A hand mirror, about the same size as her face. Hm....

Well, she was alone. Nothing to lose, right? She picked the mirror up, and surveyed her reflection. She was no cute boy, but she wasn't unhappy with what she saw. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and lifted the mirror to her face.

"Oh. My. Queen. What are you even doing, Mia??" Sia's voice rang out from the doorway.

Mia yelped and jumped, dropping the mirror, which bounced gently on top of the bed. "Hi Sissy," she said guiltily. "You're back early."

"And you're making out with your reflection. Self-love isn't THAT."

"I was not!! I was just... practicing kissing." Mia hung her head.

Sia put down her bag, and sighed. "My baby sister is growing up. I understand, Mia, but listen to me. Don't worry about that sort of thing." Her lips pressed together into a thin line. "Remember what grandmother said."

"Your education lasts for all of your life, so it's more important than bein' a wife." Mia flopped back down onto the bed. "Yeah, I remember... but I still wanna get good at kissing. So when I'm done, I'll be the total package."

Sia crossed her arms. "Where do you even get this from?! Argh. Anyway, did you finish that linguistics homework? I can help you if you need to...."

[anisrightarm]

Fluff alphabet

Masterlist

————————————————-

A= Attractive (what do they find attractive about you?)

Colson really likes your feet in both a sexual way and an SFW way, the way you move your feet can tell him if your happy, sad ect. Personality wise he likes your sarcasm, almost every response you make is sarcastic, he enjoys joking with you.

B= Baby (Do they want a family? Why/why not?)

Yes both him and Casie want another kid, Colson would love for you to have his kid, he already worships you imagine what he’d think if his kid was in your stomach. Colsons the best dad, always trying to give Casie the childhood he didn’t have

C= Cuddle (How do they like to cuddle?)

He likes to lay on chests, it doesn’t matter if it’s his chest or if he lays on yours, he loves the feeling of closeness this has, he melts when you trace his tattoos lazily, It’s his favourite thing about cuddling.

D= Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Colson mostly prefers to stay in and watch movies since he hates when paparazzi swarms you guys on dates, when you guys do go out you go to bars, clubs, even restaurants, the possibility’s are endless with the man that is Colson Baker.

E= Everything (You are my ____(ex you are my world, my life...))

“You are my light” Colson always says this too you, he’s had so much bad shit in his life, then you came in and his life improved in the domestic aspect, it was the first time he really wanted to settle down with you and Casie.

F= Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Colson was going back on tour in a week and there was this pit in his stomach, that meant he had to be away from you for 6 or more months. Yes you could always FaceTime but it wasn’t enough for Colson, he hated being away from you, he’s never felt like that so Rook told him he’s whipped

G= Gentle ( Are they gentle? If so how?)

Yes despite his ‘bad boy’ persona he’s the softest when it comes to those he considers family, both you and Casie have seen a side of Colson that no one has seen. Just the nights when both of you have nothing to do and your laying on the couch wrapped up in each other and a movie playing in the background, his touch is always gentle

H= Hands ( How do they like to hold hands?)

Colson lives for the size of your hands in his, it doesn’t matter if your hands are smooth or not he doesn’t give a shit, he’s a pretty plain guy when it comes to hand holding, nothing much to say

I= Impression ( What was their first impression of you?)

When Colson first saw you he was impressed by your demeanour, how you hold yourself even if it’s a facade.

J= Jealously (Do they get jealous?)

Obviously, it’s Colson, he knows you can handle your self but the protective needs in him make it hard not to intervene, Now if the said person he’s jealous of starts to make you uncomfortable Colson will 100% throw a punch and not feel bad about it.

K= Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Colsons kisses are passionate and at times rough of he just got back from tour. Both of you initiated the first kiss, you both leaned in at the same time

L= love (who said ‘I love you’ first?)

It wasn’t until almost a year into your relationship that one high party night Colson let it slip, he knew you were scared of commitment and to be far him as well that’s why you were so surprised when he said it you pushed it away saying how he was just high. The next morning Colson said it again so you knew he was serious.

M= Memory (what’s their favourite memory?)

Colson can’t pick just one memory as cheesy as that sounds, if he had to pick it would be when you surprised him and the boys on the early legs of the hotel Diablo tour.

N= Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Colson will 100% but you the things that he sees you staring at even for a millisecond, he doesn’t care how much you protest he will buy that with no hesitation.

O= Orange (What color reminds them of their other half?)

You remind Colson of a soft purple, it’s pretty and relaxed like you.

P= Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

I don’t think Colson would be huge on pet names maybe like ‘Babe’ but I don’t think he’s call you anything extreme.

Q= Quaint (what’s their favourite non-modern thing?)

100% old cars, he’s a car guy he said it himself, if you asked he would try to teach you a bunch of old car things and how they work ect.

R= Rainy day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

When I think of Colson and rainy days I think of the fan fic Rain in LA by @colsonbakes (go read it😏) anyways I think if Colson had the day off you, Colson and Casie would be cuddled up on the couch watching a bunch of movies, overall just being lazy

S= Sad (How do they cheer themselves up/Other people up?)

When Colson’s sad he wants to be left alone whilst you always let him know that you’re there when/if he wants to talk, sometimes he likes you just sitting there with him.

If you’re sad Colson will rip a bunch of jokes, if that doesn’t work he’ll just hold you.

T= Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Colson had no limits when it comes to talking; if you want to hear about the album, boom you know, if you want updates on Casie, Done.

Colson tunes into your voice, he could be having a conversation and he’ll hear you talk and just pause the conversation and walk over to you, he doesn’t care what your talking about, he’s listening

U= Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Colson loves sitting by the pool and passing a joint back and forth between you two while talking about every and anything

V= Vaunt (What do they like to show off?)

I don’t think Colson would flex his fame, he knows he can but he doesn’t.

If you’re ok with it he’ll show you off because he’s proud that he scored a queen like you

W= Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Colson knew you were the one when you dropped everything to make sure Rook was ok after a fight in a bar, he loves how close you are with his friends.

It would be a small but extravagant wedding with family and Friends only.

X= Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Solid gold easy action. I don’t know why it just is

Y= Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Like I said before yes 100% he wants you to be his forever girl, it was a very fun proposal, y’all went to valley fair and then he proposed.

Z= Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

A snake no doubt about it he’d name it Zeke, it’s a ball Python.

This took too long to write🥲



[chronic-claire-universe]

Hi Claire! Congratulations on 1k😘

For your event, can I please request a guy from JJK?

Sara, she/her , 24

INFJ, enneagram: 4, anxious, ambitious, sarcastic, curious

Preferred matchup gender: male

Personality: emotionally vulnerable , kind, compassionate, romantic, goofy, charismatic, laid back (but not too relaxed lol)

Favorite drink: rum and coke

Kinks: praise, body worship, light femdom stuff (idk if that’s a kink), marking/biting

Thanks ! And congratulations again 🥰

My lovely Sara is here, lot of people passed by in here to start this work, today it's your turn to show them what a great host you are and how you pleasure your favourite customer!

Warnings: Smut, Femdom, Sub Yuji, Pet Names, Food Play, 18+, Minors DNI

Jujutsu Kaisen: Yuji Itadori

"Rook? Crepe? Pop Corn?" you say while you see your favourite client crossing the door of the Savant Claire Brothel, "Eheheh sorry Sara-chan, I was In Roppongi and came directly in here" Yuji says with a goofy smile, "You know that this isn't a place where to fuck and go away right? We serve foods! And drinks!?" still smiling he lookes at you and says, "Eheheh sorry again, I'd order something to drink then, Rum and cola? As always?" "You bet it pretty boy!" you say while licking his strawberry crepe, making him blush. You come back with the tray and sitting on his lap you pour your fingers on the cocktail and trailing them on his lips, Yuji blush "Keep the sunglasses on!" you order and the boy freezes in there at your bossy attitude. "What a looser" a boy passing by says while you give Yuji a cheek kiss, "I bet you would have more fun with me babygirl, come with me!" he continues smirking to Yuji who starts to be angry, "DON'T- fuckin - call me - babygirl! Bet you can do anything with the little stick you have in the middle of your legs" and ignoring him you take a piece of the crepe and share a kiss with Yuji. "Mmm - ngh - Sara - please!" Yuji begs "Please what pretty boy?" "Fuck me please I'm so needy", your hands start to roam on his crotch feeling the bulge, Yuji can't help but tremble waiting for the next move, opening the zip and scarting every clothe finally you free the girthed cock from the clothed prison. Precum smearing from the tip, with your fingers you spread it along the shaft earning a grip from him "Such a needy boy" you cooe finally stroking him and feeling more of his groans, "S-sara please!" he says raising his hips to meet your strocks, "BEG!" you say whil taking his face on your grip, "Beg if you want this pussy!" you continue until Yuji lets his lips pronounce what he needed from the beginning, "Fuck" you say sinking on his girthed cock, "So good baby" you say while bouncing up and down, breath and pants fill your ear, the pleasure every stroke gives to your tight walls is bliss. "Cmon pretty boy move and fuck me" you say while looking him with doe eyes, Yuji is helpless to your beauty and can't help but complies your request. Hard and messed thrusts fill your pussy, the moan now starts growing louder, "Suck my tits" you instruct while meeting his thrusts, feeling the tongue messily licking your nipple, the coil starts to form and with your fingers, you caress your clit soon coming undone. Yuji is breathless, sweat pearls his forehead and his balls tighten ready to shoot spurts of load on you, feeling your convulsing walls make him desperate for his release and grunting you finally pray him to cum inside you, "F-fuck" he grunts spilling himself inside you. "Thanks pretty boy, this is always amazing. Next time we're trying something new, ok?" a grin appears on his features, "Sure Sara-chan, I can't wait then!".

[whatudottu]

So, what are your thoughts on the relationship of Ben and Annie? What exactly is do like about them?

I had to sit on this a bit, to think about both sides of their relationship. I ended up writing a bit so… under the cut we go!

I’d think Annie, because she was never the one to hero worship, was already pretty neutral about Ben; ‘he’s a good person for doing the things he does’ and whatever. But, with stories from the Andromeda 5, she got second hand but still personal experiences and history with Ben Tennyson (beyond snatching his sumo slammers card way back when).

I suppose that translates to something like- ‘you’re a hero AND you’re a person, who will always try to do right even if you stumble along the way’. To bring up BenLie and BenRook, it’s like the middle road between Julie’s ‘i know you as a human boy with a life on earth’ and Rook’s ‘i know you as the hero of the universe and one of everyone’ initial thoughts on Ben.

But since a relationship isn’t one sided, let’s talk about what Ben may like about Annie.

Ben - confronted with either sides of the binary - would kinda disappoint some sides, even if Julie and Rook understands if season 3 and ov julie were still written well. Not to knock on these relationships, but going out for dates as ‘that guy from class’ would lead to disappointment when heroing takes priority, and ‘this is the hero of the universe’ is significantly prone to disappointment because no one’s a paragon and Ben needs a break from fighting every so oftenx

And aside from the silent appreciation - instead of fawning over his heroics like it was a prize to be with him - Ben may find that Annie is that in-between he needs. Just like him, even at the most relaxed in her life, Annie always as a foot in the alien world; Andromeda 5. And just like him, Annie born and raised on Earth, have gone through some shit before meeting.

I mean sure, nothing compares to being the hero of the universe, but Annie is no stranger to threats. She doesn’t see Ben as this perfect being, but also understands that he’s needed across the universe, to save people like her dads from ending up hurt.

But I don’t know- I’ve pulled these thoughts out of my head and I’m not sure if I’ve gotten the vibes right. I do hope it’s like… understandable and whatever, haha!

[storiesforallfandoms]

the wedding ~ machine gun kelly

part one   part two   part three   part four   part five   part six   part seven   part eight   part nine   part ten   part eleven   part twelve   part thirteen

word count: 2387

request?: no

description: a year later, you and colson are finally getting your fairytale ending at the end of the aisle

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, lots of fluff

masterlist

series masterlist

*read the author’s note at the end!*

One Year Later

You winced as your sister accidentally yanked your hair again. “At this rate, you’re gonna have my hair yanked out before I get to the end of the aisle.”

“I’m sorry I’m trying to make sure it’s perfect,” Hailie responded.

“Here,” your mom said, replacing Hailie’s spot behind you. “A mother is more gentle.”

“The amounts of times I went to school with a sore head begs to differ,” Hailie teased.

But your mom was definitely right, she was much more gentle than Hailie. Before you knew it, your hair was finished and you were ready to get married.

You stood to look at yourself in the full length mirror. Your wedding dress was absolutely gorgeous, and Hailie had also done your makeup, with waterproof makeup luckily enough because you already felt like you were going to cry.

Your mom put her hands on your shoulder and smiled at you through the mirror. “My baby is growing up. Feels like just yesterday I was watching you walk for the first time.”

You put your hands over hers. “Please don’t cry, mom, I don’t want to start crying yet.”

“I know, I’m sorry honey. It’s just a very emotional da.”

You turned to face your mom, putting one arm around her and extending the other to Hailie. She stepped into your group hug and the three of you hugged each other.

“I’m so proud of you both,” your mom said, kissing your and Hailie’s foreheads.

A knock came at the door and as the three of you pulled apart, the door opened revealing your father in his suit. He looked you over and you could see the slight sadness and emotion in his eyes. “It’s time.”

Hailie hugged you once more before going to take her place as the Maid of Honor. As your mom went to leave, she paused next to your dad to look back at you. “We did good at raising some amazing daughters.”

Your dad smiled and gave your mom a hug before she went to take her seat. You were left with your dad. Neither of you really knew what to say. You were still trying to keep your tears at bay.

“I’m proud of you,” your dad finally said. “Even if I don’t like your husband to be.”

“You wouldn’t like him no matter who he was,” you teased. “But thank you dad.”

He extended an arm to you. “Let’s go before either of us start crying.”

You chuckled and took his arm. He led you down the stairs and to the end of the line of bridesmaids and groom’s men.

You and Colson had rented a sort of country club building, setting up the outside for the wedding ceremony and the inside for the reception. Your sisters were your bridesmaids, with Hailie being the Maid of Honor, and two of Colson’s crew, Rook and Slim, as his groom’s men and Pete as his Best Man. Casie was your flower girl and your youngest cousin, the son of your Uncle Nate, was your ringbearer.

You anxiously waited and felt your heart leap to your throat when the music began to play. One by one, the bridesmaids and groom’s men walked down the aisle, followed by Casie and your cousin. When it was finally your turn, you took a deep breath to try and calm your nerves.

“Don’t worry,” your dad assured you. “When you start walking down that aisle, the only person you’ll see is Colson.”

He was right. At first, as you started down the aisle, you were very aware of all the eyes on your, until you locked eyes with Colson, then it was as if everyone else disappeared.

He looked so handsome in his tux, and he was smiling through the tears of happiness on his face. Finally, the tears started to fall down your own face, and you were definitely grateful for the waterproof makeup.

Before passing you to Colson, your dad gave you another hug and a kiss on your forehead. You smiled at him before turning to Colson.

“You look beautiful,” Colson breathed.

“And you look handsome,” you responded.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the priest started, “we are gathered here today to celebrate the love between Colson Baker and (Y/N) Mathers. Before we get to their vows, is there anyone here who objects to this holy matrimony?”

There’s at least one person here who could, you thought to yourself, eyeing your dad briefly. But you knew that, even if your dad still wasn’t a fan of Colson, he saw how happy you were with him, and he didn’t want to get in the way of that.

“Now, you two have written your own vows, correct?”

You both nodded and looked at each other expectantly, causing yourselves and the audience to chuckle. Colson gestured to you, allowing you to go first.

“I, (Y/N) Mathers, promise to be your biggest fan. I promise to be by your side through the long nights of writing and recording, to always be waiting for you to come home after a long tour, to hype you up at all hours of the day. I promise to always love and to always be there for you, until the end of time.”

Colson squeezed your hands, more tears starting to fall down his face. “And I, Colson Baker, promise to be the best husband I can be. I promise to treat you like the queen that you are, to constantly call you while I’m away to the point where you’ll probably just turn off your phone to get rid of me - ” You giggled at this. “ - to make you feel like the most special girl to ever live, because to me, you are.”

You fought the urge to wipe the tears from your face, knowing you’d smudge your makeup if you did. Through tears, you managed to choke out, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Colson responded.

“May we have the rings?” the priest asked.

Your Uncle Nate nudged your cousin, who approached with the rings. Colson took yours first and positioned it in front of your finger.

“Do you, Colson Baker, take (Y/N) Mathers to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do you part?”

“I do.”

Colson slid the ring onto your finger. You smiled at him as you took his ring and held it in front of his finger.

“And do you, (Y/N) Mathers, take Colson Baker to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do you part?”

“I do.”

You slid the ring onto Colson’s finger. You held hands again and turned back to the priest.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Colson wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and kissing you deeply as your guests applauded and cheered.

And just like that, you became Mrs. Baker.

~~~~~~

After a few pictures, the dinner and cake, and some embarrassing stories from both your family and Colson’s, it was time for the dances. Colson went first, dancing with an old family friend that basically raised him like a mother. While planning the wedding, both of you debated on even sending an invite to Colson’s mom. You knew he didn’t have a great relationship with her and had barley talked to her in years, so you decided it would be best if she didn’t attend. At first, you wanted to skip over the father-daughter/mother-son dances and just have the official first dance, but Colson insisted on keeping to that tradition, if nothing else.

Once their song was over, it was announced that it was yours and your dad’s turn. Your dad led you to the dancefloor and put one hand on your waist, while holding the other. You began to sway back and forth to the music together.

“I can’t believe my baby is married,” he sighed. “And of all people, you really had to choose fucking Machine Gun Kelly.”

You chuckled. “I know, we’ve been over this a million times. I’m sorry I didn’t choose a guy that worships the ground you walk on, although Colson still does, he just likes to act tough.”

“No,” your dad said, shaking his head. “I don’t care about it being him. I mean, he still bothers the fuck out of me, but that’s just because he married my baby girl. I hate Hailie’s boyfriend just as much.” You laughed and shook your head. “You’re happy, (Y/N), and that’s all that matters. I wish I had known how severely unhappy you were all those years, and how my fame affected you.”

“There wasn't anything you could do, dad,” you assured him. “I’m a tough girl, you know that. I was able to handle it on my own, and I always will be able to handle it on my own. In a way, I’m glad most the guys I knew were assholes, staying away from them led me to the right guy after all.”

“Also an asshole.”

“Dad,” you playfully scolded.

Your dad chuckled and pulled you close to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head against his shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you, (Y/N),” he said. “You’ve grown up into the most amazing young woman I always knew you’d be.”

You smiled through the tears that were starting to form again. Dammit! I just touched up my makeup, I knew that was going to be a mistake.

“I love you, dad,” you said, your voice soft.

“I love you, too, (Y/N).”

You were almost reluctant to pull away when the song ended, but you knew you couldn’t stay attached to your dad forever. Both literally and metaphorically, today was a day about letting go, you letting go of him and vice versa.

Colson stepped up as your dad stepped away, the bright smile on his face. He offered you his hand and asked, “May I have this dance, Mrs. Baker?”

You smiled back and responded, “Of course, Mr. Baker.”

The song you had both chosen for your first dance song began to play. Everyone was stood around, taking pictures and smiling at the two of you as you danced, but in that moment it was as if none of them existed. It was just you and Colson dancing together.

“Did you ever think we’d get here?” Colson asked as you rested your head against his chest. Even in your heels, you were nowhere close to reaching his height.

“At which point?” you asked. “When you sat down with me at the diner, or when we started dating?”

“Either,” he responded.

“To the first one, no. I actually didn’t even think we’d ever talk again, even after getting friendly and you left me your number. Part of me was sure you’d forget all about me.”

“How can I forget the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met?”

You cuddled closer to him. He always knew the right things to say. “To the second one, I don’t really knew. At the time that we started dating, I really didn’t know what to expect. Part of me thought it might just be a brief thing, that maybe the distance or the secrecy of it all would result in us breaking up. Then I thought it would last some time but I wasn’t sure exactly how long. I don’t know, I never thought about getting married ever, it just didn’t seem like an option to me.” You lifted your head to look at him. “What about you?”

“When we first met, I didn’t think we’d end up here exactly, but I did hope we’d be friends for a long time. I really liked you, I thought you were cute and funny and so headstrong. I just wanted to hang out with you, if nothing else. When we started dating, I hoped we’d get to this point. I’m not sure if I expected it to happen, but I always hoped it did.”

“Well, you got your wish.”

You leaned up to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and paused from dancing long enough to cup your face. Even through your closed eyes, you could see the flash from the camera of the photographer you had hired. It was just an old friend of Colson’s who offered to take pictures at the wedding, but you both insisted on paying him for his time, even if he would’ve been invited to go anyways.

“You’ll have to get used to that,” Colson said. “Although, I guess you already are.”

“Not as much as you’d think. My sisters and I always managed to keep on the DL for most our lives,” you shrugged. “But I don’t mind all that much. As long as I get to show off my amazing husband one way or another, I’ll gladly welcome any pictures.”

Colson smiled. “Say that again.”

“Which part?”

“The part about me being your husband.”

You giggled and repeated, “Colson Baker, you’re the best husband a girl could ever ask for.”

“And you, (Y/N) Baker, are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You both kissed once again as the music ended. You stood for some time, just lost in one another, before a more upbeat song started to play and more people joined the dancefloor.

You partied until midnight hit, and when it did you changed from your wedding dress into something more comfortable to make your way to the car that would be taking you to the airport. Colson had booked a special honeymoon for the two of you, but didn’t tell you where it was, only that you’d both be gone for some time. You sat next to him in the car and you both smiled at each other. Colson took hold of your hand and gave it a small squeeze.

The car began to drive as your friends and family waved goodbye to the two of you. Next stop, your happily ever after, with Colson as your loving husband.

The end!

Tags: @littlewhiterose @creatureofthen1ght-v3 @arugula-pigeon @keithseabrook27 @xxkellsvixen19xx @hnbtx @c-dizzle-swizzlex @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @whateverthefucklove @kellysimagines @idkbrooklyn @hannahmarie2016 @ratedrkohardychick91 @rosesinmars @painkillerash @kawennote09 @psychosozial @tapedeck-hearts @trash-bag-bitch @bloodorangemoon @jointhehunt67 @nepturn @theroyalbrownbarbie @jesylovesmusic @ripped-up-jeans-and-glitter @chokemebymyheartstrings @kolsprincess04 @polychr0matic @sataninsatin @harringtonstudios @oopsiedoopsie23 @anon-1121 @itjustkindofhappenedreally @iamlivthehuman​ @rumoured-whispers​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​ @ghostlyawesome1 @bakerkells​ @hxbbit​ @laceupkells​ @nowhereiswhereibelong​ @moonificantlou @crystalbaby12​ @omgitstreeloo​ @jordangdelacruz​ @limerenze​ @estxxbritt​ @moonixto @colsondaddybakerxx @shadyraiam​ @gemini5991​ @nevercameaready @whyisgmora​ @thelooneytoon​ @bolivianchickennugget​ @write-from-the-heart​ 

Thank you all for your support throughout this series. You really don’t know what it means to me that so many of you were so dedicated to this story and you loved it so much. Honestly, when I started writing it I didn’t think it’d get any traction at all. I’m just as sad as you guys are that it came to an end, but I knew this was the way the story was going to go even when I started writing it.

However, don’t be too sad. Keep your eyes out in the coming weeks for another MGK series ;)

[chromium7sky]

The Devil wears armani| Chapter 10

A/n: hiya guys, enjoy this another update!! And uh Happy birthday to me! 😁😁🎉🎉🎂 This is my present for you guys and thank you, thank you very much for 2k follower ❤��❤️😭😭 you guys can follow these story by #damirae and #devil wears armani tag 😁

It was night and Raven is stuck between calling him or not to call him. She seems nervous as she paced around her living room while looking at her phone with Damian's number (which have been saved recently.)

She then slump herself at her cream colored couch in the middle of the room. "Come on, Rachel. Both of you have confess and DONE IT. Why are you still embarrassed to call him?" She muttered herself.

Sighed as she slowly rise and place her feet on the floor. Her finger press call on the cellphone screen. Quickly, she put it on speaker.

Before it rang two time, Damian's voice already at the other speaker. "Miss me already?" He teased her.

Like a spark ignite the matches, her face tinted rosy color as she chew on her bottom lip. "No. I wanted to show you the sketch design."

"So you don't miss me?" His voice sound like a bit disappointment which made her irritated.

"Don't make me choke you when we meet again." She grind her teeth.

"Didn't know you were into that kink. Maybe we should try that next time." He chuckled and hell, that makes her more flustered.

"No. No choking."

"Oh? You prefer something else?"

She bit her lips. It's getting complicated to talk to him after that morning. " I'll video call you to show the sketch."

"Wait, wait."

"Uh?" She make sound in her throat as she puzzled.

"I'll call you." And he end the line.

Her eyebrow furrowed as she looked at the screen. "He call?" Then her phone ringing showing video call icon. O dear.

Breath in and out, she tidy up her hair and her long pyjamas dress before she click open.

The video screen shows darkness then there's light on and someone pick up the phone. " Hello, my love."

Raven shocked to the point she drop her phone."Oh ,god." Her face were red from her ears to her neck. What did she saw that made she drop her phone?

"You know, it's rude to drop the phone while video chatting." His voice on the speaker.

"Sorry, sorry. Butter finger." Raven pick up the phone as she look at the screen and now she knows why, he's SHIRTLESS and practically LIE ON HIS BED while video calling her.

"Are you okay? You look feverish." Damian narrowed his eyes as he try to focus on the screen.

"I was, I was working out just now." She makes excuse for her flustered condition. "As I said before, I AM a healthy concious person." She huffed.

"Sooner or later you don't have to when you're with me." He smirked as he put his other hand beneath his head.

Raven press her lips. That is such a SEXY pose. She clear her throat. "Are you doing on purpose?"

"What purpose?"

"Flexing your arm? Showing your ..." He eyes travel to his body. "Your..torso." she closed her eyes try to contain her embarrassment, her hidden desire.

"I AM trying to be comfortable while chatting with you." He smirked.

"Too comfy."

He chuckled. "See what you like, Rachel?" He raised his eyebrow.

"Pillow."

"Pillow?"

"That's a nice comfy pillow."

"You rather choose pillow over me?" He arched his eyebrow. "I don't this pillow can give you pleasure that I do."

Raven swallowed.

"Like this morning." He whispers.

She sighed as heat start to creep on her cheeks. She can't even stare directly at him even though their were just video calling.

As she look at her sketch book she takes it. " Enough beating around the bush, we need to focus on this subject." She put her handphone on tripod stand.

"Alright then..." He sit up from his bed as he put his phone on table or something while the screen shows of his body half naked with black cotton pants as he stared on the screen." What do you got?" As he rest his hand on his chin, judging the design.

"We start with this..." Raven shows him the first sketch.

"Too mundane. Next!!" He wave his hand as a gesture for her to turn the pages.

"Okay...how about this one?" She shows the second sketch.

"We've already done this design." Damian stared intensely at the screen. " I guess, after time we DONE IT, it really lit up your memory." He smiled.

"I need your decision, Damian." Raven with red tinted cheeks holding the sketch book.

"Need a fresh of breath air design like what Mr William said. Next!!" He waved his hand again.

Raven sighed then she shows the third one. Damian then look closer on the screen.

"This is. This is."

Raven brace herself to accept his criticism .

"Well done."

Raven jolt as she heard it. "Uh...well done?"

"I can see the culture rich culture in this. Wait...is that middle east pattern I see?"

"Yeah. I thought it would look classy and a bit exclusive." Then suddenly Raven realise there's a tint of red on his ears. " Uh, Damian?"

"Are you trying to court me?"

"What?"

"Because if you do, I will go to your house right now."

"Wh-what?" Raven getting more flustered. What is happening? All she does is she shown her third sketch to Damian about his suit but why he's suddenly become like this?

He chuckled as he saw her reaction. "I was kidding but seriously..." As he stared at her. " I will propose at Gala if I could."

Raven swallowed her breath. What?

"If you would agree." He chuckled.

Raven sighed as she tug her hair behind her ear. Three years is a huge gap between them and yet, after that three years, her muse who had known that he's her subject in that little purple notebook shown advance to her. Which. Is. Either it's Coincidence or something else.

"How I would agree if I still have my own company to focus and run?"

"We'll collaborate. Rook & Raven collection." He smiled as he gestured his hands. " Like the ol' days before."

"Ahh..." She rest her sketch book on her chin as she remember when they creating their outfit for presentation and those MAKE OUT scene.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing." Raven tighten her grip on her sketchbook. " It's just. You're, suddenly, into me."

"Oh?"

"It's weird. But I feel, happy. Some sort."

"Some sort?"

"Uh..it's like too good to be true. Still I have this doubt feeling." She bit her lips.

"So you going to chicken out from this?" Damian raised his eyebrow and his voice seems a bit strained.

"What do you mean chicken out? I mean, both of us want it, and we've...done it. Soo..." She looked at the other way as her hand touched her red jewel necklace.

"Do You need some time to think?" Damian suggested to her.

"Do you?" She looked at him.

"You. I want your decision." He stared at her as he crossed his arm.

"If.." She wet her lips. " If Rook and Raven Collection are success perhaps..."

"Perhaps?"

"Perhaps both us could go to another level."

"Like engagement?"

"Well, maybe."

"Maybe is not confirmation, Rachel." As Damian getting nearer to the screen.

Raven shrug it off. " Maybe yes." Her face soften as her hand cover her smile.

"Shit. I miss you already." Damian ruffed his hair as he sighed then he looked at the screen. "It's getting late. About sketches, proceed with sketch number 3."

"Yes, your highness." Raven said sarcastically.

"You will worship me like a king later." Damian cross his arm with smug on his face.

"Pshh, Yeah, right." Raven rolled her eyes. "I'll make you kneel before me, before that happens."

"I remember it vividly." He lips curled as he stare at her with those dangerous aura. " Perhaps I'll do it again. I AM your king after all."

Raven puffed her blushed cheeks, following by Damian's soft laugh as he sees her reaction. " Are we done yet?"

"Seeing you getting flustered really makes my night." Then he whispers as he comes closer to the camera. " And I hope we meet again in our sweet dreams."

Raven bit her lips as she heard it. Damn, he really knows how to make her heart melt like butter.

"Well, good night, then. Have a sweet dreams."

Damian smiled. He kissed his finger then put on the screen. "Have a Sweet dreams of me."

Raven almost died as she seen that.

[consumedkings-archive]

ancient names, iv

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt iv: game of survival

Masterlink Post

Word Count: 4.7k

Rating: M for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop.

Warnings: Language, some “light” religious blasphemy (it’s Far Cry 5), the Seeds being themselves. This is an enemies to lovers (enemies to enemies and lovers?), strong canon deviance from here on out. Mentions of blood/carnage, the frantic energy of people who both hate and are attracted to each other. It goes on!

Notes: Hi guys! I'm so, so sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter up. You know how quarantine-times just be like that where you manically write something for like 8 days straight and then never touch it again for weeks? Yeah, it really DO be like that sometimes.Anyway, this chapter is a bit of a filler, for which I apologize; I wanted some softer John/Elliot moments, at least something that wasn't quite so much "fuck off" and "please go fuck yourself" constantly, but also, that is also kind of Elliot's personality, so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I promise I will try to be much better at making myself sit down and actually write now that I'm not swallowed up by a black hole of writer's block! Thank you to everyone for your patience and understanding and for all of the lovely comments and kudos; it really means the most to me! I just love getting the chance to interact with y'all.

The adrenaline crash was already happening.

Elliot was familiar with the sensation; as she rifled through the glove box of the Eden’s Gate van, John waited impatiently just on the other side of her while the sound of car doors and voices echoed in the distance. He clearly wanted to tell her to hurry up, and maybe he would, if she took long enough—but she wasn’t keen on these fucking crazies getting their hands on her.

She almost laughed at the thought. Passed from one psycho’s hands to another; wouldn’t that be something? Joey would be absolutely furious.

If she’s not dead, that unrelenting voice in her head echoed, stilling her hands for a moment.

“Deputy?” John asked, when she stopped moving, maybe because he was worried she could hear or see something he couldn’t. That would be nice—John Seed, sweating, for once in his fucking life.

If they didn’t already gut her and plant a whole fucking garden in her.

“Rook.” His voice wasn’t a question now, but a command, and she could hear it in his voice; look at me, tell me what you’re thinking, and her teeth clicked together. She closed the glove box shut, no reward to be found—just loose papers and some napkins—and closed the door beside her. The rattle of the chain link binding their cuffed wrists together reminded her, once again, of the absurdity of their situation.

“Don’t call me that,” she said tiredly, the rush of driving almost head-first into another car at a hundred miles-per-hour fleeing her body, leaving her feeling gutted and emptied out. She coughed into her elbow and the gesture pulled something in the cavity of her chest; now more than ever, she wished that she’d taken the risk of potentially dying and just popped those Tylenol-looking pills when she’d had the chance

John stared at her for a moment. He didn’t respond to her demand, but replied, “You’re still wearing my glasses.”

Elliot shrugged. She pushed the glasses down her nose a little to peer at him over the blue, reflective lenses. “They look better on me anyway.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. He looked like he wanted to say something to her—and she certainly expected him to snap at her to hand them over—but he turned away and started walking. He said, briskly, “Let’s not get hunted down like wild animals, shall we?”

“Yes,” Elliot agreed, falling into step with him, sobering her voice quite purposefully, “wouldn’t it be awful if one of those crazy cultists say, drugged and kidnapped us? Absolutely beastly.”

John shot her a look. He looked awfully like he wanted to say something again; that frustrated tense of his jaw, the way his eyes narrowed, these were all familiar gestures to her. She could tell that she was pushing a button he didn’t want her to have access to. That knowledge gave her a giddy kind of thrill and kick-started her system all over again. Good, Elliot thought, minding her business as picked along a barely-used trail and left the van behind them, going further and further into the wilderness. The river was close; if she had to guess, they were somewhere halfway between where John had taken resident and the border into Faith’s territory. I hope that pisses him off.

“We should head back to the ranch first,” Elliot continued, falling into step with John—and not without some puffing. “And would you slow down? Remember how you got me sick? And then handcuffed us together in a temper tantrum? And then—”

“I was there,” John snipped at her. Despite his brittle tone, he did make an effort of less power walking, maybe because he didn’t want to have to drag her unconscious body along once she passed out from billowing her way across the Montana wilderness.

“Just wanted to make sure. Humility is a virtue, as they say.”

“I have to get Faith back,” he said, ignoring her little jab. “I can’t let those fucking nutjobs keep her.”

Elliot clambered over a log, keeping half of her attention on the sound of voices, still distant enough that she wasn’t worried about it. “In case you’ve forgotten this other small detail,” she continued, “they probably also have Joey, which they wouldn’t, if you had just kept your grimy hands off of her. So, you know—let’s keep in mind we have generally the same goal, here.”

“Thank you,” John muttered tersely, “for keeping us goal-oriented.”

“You’re very welcome, John.” Elliot tugged the sweatpants back up her hips; now, in the dying light of golden hour, she was regretting not changing into her jeans earlier that morning. Of course there was no way she could have known, but hindsight was always twenty-twenty.

She felt breathless from talking and walking, but the desire to really dig in was too great, overwhelming her need to take a full breath as she added, “It’s my pleasure, truly. Any time you need me, all you have to do is—”

As they wandered down closer to the river, John puffed out, “Do you ever stop talking?”

“I remember a time when all you wanted was for me to talk to you.”

Just as she finished her sentence, about to tack another jab on just for the hell of it—and another thing—she heard shouts, closer now, in a foreign language that she didn’t recognize. She stilled immediately, instinctively reaching and grabbing John’s arm to keep him from continuing on.

He opened his mouth to ask her what she was stopping for, but before he could she waved her hand frantically at him and voicelessly mouthed the words, shut the fuck up. Just one moment was all it would take; one second for them to be heard and they’d be gutted and flayed open, just like Waylon. Elliot did not have any desire to become a floral arrangement any time soon.

The voices echoed again, closer this time. John pushed her hand out of his face and instead pulled her further along the trail, moving with greater purpose this time; the second she started struggling to keep up, he wrapped a firm arm around her midsection and hoisted her, planting her right in front of him before he ducked them into some brush.

(She reckoned the heat in her cheeks was adrenaline, certainly, and not the way it had felt to have John’s chest pressed against her back, his arm warm and strong against her: because it certainly wasn’t that, but perhaps more like a pneumonia fever or just her body crumpling under the stress.)

Dark, heavy boots stormed through the underbrush, talking to each other now in a more conversational tone; though Elliot could hear them chattering and occasionally laughing at what the other said (in Swedish, or perhaps Dutch?) she could see their feet moving with distinct, sharp precision, stopping in time with each other and starting again whenever one of them said something.

Oh, fuck, she thought with a sick, desperate, sinking feeling. They’re so fucking organized. God, fuck.

It was one thing to kill peggies, to storm her way into a compound and smash her head into the face of one or peel into the parking lot in her Jeep, Boomer having gutted two or three of them on their way in; Eden’s Gate members carried only chaotic, frenetic energy, barely held together by their worship of their leader and his siblings. Whatever structure they upheld was purely because they were told to, and it wasn’t a system they could execute on their own, without direction.

She had never fought something, or someone, organized. She had never bashed her face into someone who had thirty other comrades marching down to kill her, spear her on a stick and stuff her mouth with baby’s breath.

I’m only a girl. It was a startling, violent moment of realization, that she had been bumbling her way through this, working purely on emotion and instinct. She was not a practiced, methodical killer, but one born out of necessity. I’m only a girl, I can’t kill people who have their shit together.

Elliot was vaguely aware of her breathing becoming labored, grinding in her lungs, and only became consciously aware of it when John’s hand pressed to her mouth, his arm still wrapped around her stomach. His hands smelled—tasted—like leather and dirt, and it was almost comforting enough to ground her, because for once John didn’t smell like that stupid fucking cologne that she hated, but she could still feel the dirt against her mouth like she was getting buried face down—

The steps slowed, stopping just in front of the brush. Elliot could see a silhouette cut across the forest floor, dappled by the branches of the thicket John had plunged them into, the branches pulling and tugging at her hair and shirt and skin. But she only barely saw it, because John’s back faced the trail they’d just been on, his arms around her. A shield.

“I think they’re gone,” John muttered after what felt like an entire fucking eternity and the voices had faded off, hunched in the brush and coiled around her like a snake, dropping his hand from her mouth. She tried to quiet the panicked roaring in her ears to listen (John didn’t know what to listen for; he didn’t know what it was like to have to hold your breath and hope your hunters passed you by) but she couldn’t; all she could think was oh fuck, oh God, I can’t do this. They’re going to kill me without a blink. They’re going to kill Joey. They’re going to—

“Rook,” John said, his voice firmer now. He must have been convinced their pursuers had moved on. “Rook, my hand.”

Her nails were digging into his wrist, revisiting shallow wounds she had made the night that John had held her under. But he didn’t wince or yank his hand away; he watched her intently, waiting for the iron-clad grip of her fingers to loosen. Elliot closed her eyes for a second, just a second, to ground herself.

I feel: John’s heartbeat, the dirt, the wind. I heard: John’s voice, leaves rustling, the river down below. I smell: dirt, leather, pine sap, humid river air.

She kept waiting for John to push her again. She kept waiting for him to say something stupid—Earth to Elliot?—or demand she get moving, or something equally insufferable, but he stayed like that; chest against her back, eclipsing out the little bit of sun breaking through the brush, waiting.

“I’m fine,” Elliot murmured. She felt like she was on auto-pilot.Too much, her body was screaming at her, the sickness’ sticky hands crawling through her, leaving fingerprints all over her lungs.You’re doing too much. The adrenaline was crashing hard through her body now, and all she wanted to do was puke and then lay down for a nice, long nap. She loosened her grip on his wrist for a moment before letting her hand fall completely from his.

John didn’t say whether or not he believed her, but he stood up slower than he had moved before, peering cautiously around before picking his way out of the brush. He remained (blissfully) silent as Elliot stepped around him; what he lacked in personal relatability, she thought with a sort of familiar dryness, he made up for when he kept his mouth shut.

“Elliot,” he said, ruining her peace, bulldozing over it wildly like he did just about everything else in her life. There was a question somewhere in the way that he said her name, and she felt the pull of the cuffs linking them together when he stopped.

She turned to look at him. He didn’t, for once, look as though he wanted to say something; instead, he was waiting expectantly. For an explanation, she supposed. Or maybe a thank you. That sounded much more like him.

Elliot said, again, “I’m fine,” her hands on her hips, resisting the urge to double over like her body was begging her too. She had never known when to stop, not really, not without someone else telling her. Her mama liked to call it her Too Much gene.

John arched a dark brow at her. His mouth curved in something like a smile, but it was too bitter, too wry, too knowing to be a real smile. She knew his real smile, even if he didn’t think so. She’d seen it. Boyish and—dare she say—endearing. This was not it.

She gathered up all of her willpower and bit out, “John Seed, if we don’t get moving, we’re going to having marigolds and daisies and what the fuck else blooming right out of our gutted rib cages.”

Whatever had been sitting on John’s face was wiped clean by her words. A good old dose of reality. She tugged on the chain impatiently, and he fell into step again with her, trudging through the underbrush.

“And don’t look at me like that,” she snapped out over her shoulder. “I told you, I’m fine.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elliot was not fine.

John would admit —to himself, silently, and never under any other circumstances—that he did not know Elliot Honeysett very well. He did, however, know her enough. The way she’d gripped his wrist, looking for an anchor; the strange, haunted, disconnected way her eyes had flickered from point to point in the nowhere-in-particular when he spoke to her, never quite looking at him. He’d seen those things in her before. He’d seen that look on her face earlier that morning. He’d seen that strange disconnect, a switch of a flip somewhere in her mind, when she’d certainly considered choking one of the guards to death.

All the same, he reasoned as they trudged up a hill, trying to ignore the distant sounds of gunfire that bode poorly and having been walking for what he could only guess was hours now, it was odd. Having her cling onto him. Clutch his wrist for support. It was—

(nice)

—strange, to think about Elliot needing him, in the same way the realization had unseated him when he had understood she’d been relying on him to keep her safe at the ranch.

“Did you take that Tylenol?” he asked absently, an afterthought, still mulling over their odd closeness in the woods, trying to pin down why it writhed and squirmed in the cavity of his chest. The sun was beginning to set behind the mountains, and a slow, uneasy chill had crawled through the air. “Back at the ranch.”

“Do I look like an idiot?” Elliot huffed out, pausing halfway up the hill, to try and catch her breath.

“That was rhetorical, before you consider replying with astonishing honesty,” the blonde snipped out after a moment of breathing.

Her voice sounded raspier now, like she’d picked up chain-smoking. She cocked her head, looking at him for a moment, her hands on her hips; she had Jacob’s old sweats wadded up to her waist—so small, John thought absently, she’s been losing weight like crazy—and an old gray undershirt of his tied in a knot at her stomach. Her ponytail was practically disengaged completely, big chunks of her blonde hair falling into her face and sticking to her cheeks and jaw. She looked feverish, or maybe out of shape, though John suspected it was much more likely to be the former than the latter.

John replied, “I would hate to disappoint your opinion of me.”

“Cute.” Elliot pushed her way up the last half of the hill, cresting the top and finally—finally, because he could tell she’d been waiting to do this—bent over at her hips, hands on the tops of her thighs. They were probably a good hundred yards from the ranch now, in the thickest part of the woods and in the farthest reach from the driveway, which Elliot had insisted on. “Good fucking God, I never want to move for the rest of my life.”

“You’d probably feel better if you took that Tylenol I left you.”

“Hey. Hey, John?” She snapped her fingers at him, not looking at him but waving wildly. “Hey. Oh, yeah? Shut the fuck up.”

“Somehow,” John mused, peering through the trees to see if he could get a glimpse of the ranch, “you are even unpleasant when subdued by sickness, deputy.”

He’d become so accustomed to her casual venom that it was almost a comfort, now. He would know something was wrong with her when she wasn’t trying to bite his head off, but at least for now, bound together by metal, he knew she wasn’t going to try and kill him. It would be too much of a hassle to try and drag his corpse along through the woods.

I have to get Faith, John thought, eyes straining to see through the trees but his body reluctant to get any closer to the treeline. I have to get her. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It’s all fucked, the whole lot of it. They’ve got her on some shit again. Fuck.

Joseph would be so angry; more than that, Faith was certainly going to be scared out of her mind, once the drugs wore off.

“They’re here.” Elliot’s voice shook him out of his thoughts; she had caught her breath, for now, and wandered closer to the treeline. Her brows furrowed together, and for a second John almost laughed at how ridiculous it was to have her face so serious when she refused to give him back his glasses.

Any humor that he might have felt was ripped away when he followed her gaze to see what he saw: the nondescript gray vans, parked in a semi-circle, leaving an exit down the drive. He watched a few of the men in their dark clothes guiding members of Eden’s Gate into the back of the van. Ase, and Faith, and Ase's red-haired executioner man were nowhere to be seen.

“They aren’t fighting,” John muttered as he watched the members of Eden's Gate hand their weapons over. He felt something sick deep in the pit of his stomach.

“Well, John,” Elliot began, and he thought, don’t fucking say it, but she plunged on regardless, “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve got yourself a brood of followers, not leaders.”

“They’re devout,” John insisted bitingly. It welled up inside of him—perhaps embarrassment, or humiliation—and he swallowed thickly. “They’re just surviving, that’s all. It would be stupid for them to all get killed.”

The blonde shot him a look through the side of her expression, wary. She didn’t need to say anything for him to figure out what it meant. Sure, John. They certainly let me and the others mow them down no problem, but right now, they’re just surviving.

“We can’t get into the ranch now,” Elliot ventured after a moment, stepping back from the treeline. “The best thing to do is wait and see if they leave. They don’t strike me as a home-base type of crazy, but you never know; maybe those weird cell-like rooms you put in the basement will tickle their fancy.”

“What?” John demanded. He trailed after her, indignant. “We’re just going to let them take Faith and leave?”

Elliot sighed. She looked to be working something between her teeth, words she wanted to say to him but that she was taking care to mull over first, and he didn’t know if that relieved him or filled him with more dread.

“Yes,” she said after a moment, and he thought, definitely more dread, I like it better when she talks impulsively. 

“Tell me this is a stupid joke,” John insisted. Elliot’s lashes fluttered. A strange flicker of emotion streaked across her face, as brilliant and short-lived as a shooting start, and his stomach knotted when he thought it might have been pity.

“We have to. They obviously aren’t planning on killing her, John; if they were, they wouldn’t have flaunted her in front of your face,” Elliot replied, starting to walk again, carefully picking her way down a small ravine and then following its slope downwards, towards the river again.

John’s feet moved forward, even when he didn’t want to, even when he wanted to turn back around and storm the ranch and demand Faith be returned back to him. Finally, eventually, he willed himself to stop, as though he only just remembered that he was the bigger of the two of them and carried the most weight in their little red-rover chain.

“We can’t leave her with them,” he insisted. “That’s bullshit, deputy. Just because she’s not one of yours—”

Elliot turned to look at him. Her eyes were narrowed, and she pulled on the chain, hard, the way that John had done to her, yanking him forward abruptly.

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, John Seed, but I’ve got more experience doing rescue missions for people kidnapped by cults than you do.” Her voice was hard, venomous. “They could have Joseph in there at gun-point and I’d still rescue him.”

John felt the anger blooming in his chest. “I never took you for a liar.”

“I was never going to kill a little fucking girl,” Elliot replied viciously. “And that’s what she is, even if Joseph pumped her full of poison. I was never going to kill any of you Seeds.”

“No?” John demanded. “Then what?”

A moment of silence stretched between them. It welled with something, somethingsoemthingsomething that John wanted to grapple with his hands and squeeze, but that he couldn't.

She said, after a few heartbeats, “Put you in jail to rot, you fuckhead.” Elliot turned on her heel and started marching again. “Death would be too kind an ending for you.” 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

By the time they found a spot to stop, it was nearly completely dark. They had walked in almost complete silence after her little proclamation, enough to make him wonder if that odd moment of closeness had been a figment of his imagination after all.

Elliot picked a spot out for them close to the river, but still kept shadowed by the shrubs, and John didn’t have much will to argue with her anymore; her words kept sliding around in his head like marbles. Death would be too kind an ending for you.

He knew what she was really saying, with that. If I have to suffer with living, her voice said, beyond the words, then so do you.

The blonde was shivering as she loaded John’s arms up with wood (much to his chagrin; he’d already put this Versace shirt through enough, and now she was doing this), and by the time they got a fire going he thought she might pass out from the entirety of the day.

“Cold, deputy?” John asked mildly, watching her untie the knot of the shirt and slink her arms into the over-sized fabric, huddled by the small fire they’d (she’d) made. She glared at him.

“Well—”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he interjected, as though he could hear it already. “I know you’ve got pneumonia, and it's all my fault, as I willed it upon you.”

“Goody,” Elliot replied. There was no bite in her voice anymore; exhaustion was pulling at the edges of her expression, tugging her voice down, and John felt almost a bit of relief at the knowledge that maybe they were done trading blows. For now.

Lit by firelight, she looked softer. There was still an open wound where she’d really dug her words in, and maybe it was still bleeding a little, but John could feel the evening chill sinking into his bones now too, even with the sleeves of his button-up rolled down. So yes; Elliot did look softer, and smaller, and warmer, and John would be stupid to willingly get pneumonia so that they were both huffing and puffing through the woods.

He acquiesced, after a moment of silence and as though relenting to his own mental argument, “It would be warmer if we shared body heat.”

The look she shot him might as well have been daggers. “What,” she quipped, “being handcuffed to me isn’t enough for you?” I suppose we aren't done trading blows after all.

“Look, I’m not dressed for a Montana night out in the woods,” he insisted, “and certainly neither are you. You’re already sick.” 

Elliot scoffed and rolled her eyes.

He ventured, again, “You already said we can’t leave the fire burning all night. The smoke would give us away.”

“And I’m also saying that there’s no way in fucking hell I’m letting you spoon me,” Elliot replied, closing her eyes. “If you get hypothermia, then maybe it’s the karmic universe telling you to go fuck yourself.”

“Oh, very nice, deputy.”

He sighed, stretched out on his side and drinking up as much of the fire’s warmth as he could before Elliot would, inevitably, stamp it out and try to get some sleep. The ground was soft and mossy, and while John couldn’t stand the idea of sleeping in the same clothes he’d been running around in, the day had begun to take its toll on him.

“If you change your mind,” John continued, “I can assure you I’m an excellent big spoon.”

Elliot scoffed, again, and he thought, oh, well. Maybe the karmic universe will serve me something after all, but we’ll have to wait and see, and let his eyes drift shut.

He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep when he first felt a change. It could have been thirty minutes, or a few hours; Elliot’s sleep schedule was so unknown to him—and certainly changed by her illness—that he couldn’t have wagered if he wanted to. But he was still mostly asleep when he felt the warmth of her body tucked against his, shivering, like a leaf in the wind. There was still a soft detergent scent to her clothes, even after everything, and her head fit just under his chin.

John shifted. He didn’t need to open his eyes to tell it was Elliot, and not a bear or mountain lion trying to find the best way to carve out his intestines; Elliot’s hair brushed along his jaw, and she pulled his arm over her like a blanket.

“Is this my karmic retribution?” he rumbled, half asleep still. Elliot’s teeth chattered.

“Just consider this making yourself useful,” she replied. Her voice was muffled from her face being tucked against his shirt. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“Yes, boss.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He had expected to get woken up gently, by the rising sun, or perhaps the feeling of Elliot disengaging from their only-for-warmth spooning session. 

Instead, John was woken abruptly by the feeling of a cold, wet nose pressing into his face, hot, stinking breath whuffling across his face.

“What—the fuck—”

John swatted the air blindly, the smell of dog breath wafting over his face as he struggled into a sitting position. It took a moment for him to right himself, to get a good grasp on his surroundings; their handcuffs were still linked. Elliot was awake, and sitting up already, and beaming as a Blue Heeler stared at John. 

As soon as his eyes landed on the dog, it barked at him. Loudly. All of the hair on the hound’s spine rose, all the way down to the base of its tail, and a low, nasty growl rose in its throat.

“Boomer,” Elliot said, and immediately the dog sat. Boomer’s eyes darted between Elliot and John, wary and uncertain. The blonde, however, looked happier than John thought he’d ever seen her, reaching out and ruffling the dog’s hair until it lay flat again, smiling. “Look, John, Boomer found us.”

“Oh,” John replied, “your killer beast. Excellent.”

Elliot laughed. It was as though Boomer was waiting for the sound; he barked, happily this time (could dogs bark in different tones, John wondered), tail wagging furiously as he crowded Elliot for her attention.

“Don’t worry,” the blonde said, giving John a sly look, “he only bites on command.”

[freeonlinecoursemiracles]

How You Can Do Miracles

Day 1 - How Anyone Can do Miracles

" Do miracles really happen?" It was God's still tiny voice to me. I keep in mind the very first time I ever saw Benny Hinn on TELEVISION. I resembled, "man that can't be genuine, It wants to simple so it has to be fake."

I question how much he is charging those individuals?"

" Do you count on miracles?" God's voice ever before so gentle yet identifiable breathing on me again. Up until that point I had submersed myself in the Prophetic and apostolic Movement so my principle of wonder healing was relegated to even more of a negative view than confidence as well as understanding. In truth it was lack of knowledge of God's Word. I wondered exactly how one guy can recover another and afterwards one day it occurred to me.

Do Miracles Really Happen?

I had some individuals over to my house and also we were worshiping on a Friday night and the existence of God was strong customarily. One of my good friends, who was about my age and also fresh out of the world was standing against the wall worshiping. As I went by him I placed my fingers in his ears and also said "be open". I don't also know why I did it, it just occurred. As I came back around God had revealed me a vision of him with one more young lady on the couch. As I passed by the 2nd time I murmured in his ear what I saw. He fell out on his back as well as simply lay there as most of us continued to praise in the splendor. About 15 minutes had actually passed when my phone sounded and it was Billy, the guy I had actually murmured in his ear and wished. I stated, "Billy? I assumed you were in the hallway?" Billy claimed, "Man, I was however when you shouted that throughout the rook at me regarding me and that woman I got ashamed and I jumped out the window as well as went to the shop. " I said," Billy, I really did not yell at you I murmured it in your ear." "Oh my God," he said loudly, "God recovered me as well as offered me dog hearing!" My a course in miracles recovery ministry was birthed that night and also God made a believer out of me. Do you believe in wonders? Ask God to make a believer out of you, since the question do miracles truly occur was answered in my own life. A revelation I obtained eventually while research words altered my life. Like you, I had actually been shown various things worrying wonders. One school of thought was that just Jesus carried out wonders while another mentioned that miracles receded after the Apostles. While studying these things I saw something that would certainly permanently transform me as well as release my confidence to run in the supernatural.

The Rabbinic Method

During Jesus times a rabbi or instructor would utilize this method to show his trainees. This is what Jesus was doing with his 12 disciples. That would have been great to instruct that wonders can be educated to other individuals however it would certainly not have actually finished the argument that only the 12 adherents done miracles. I required something much more. I then saw that Jesus took 70 others and started to do the exact same point with them. Luke 10:1 (New King James Version). Luke 10. The Seventy Sent Out. 1 After these things the Lord selected seventy others also, [a] and also sent them 2 by 2 prior to His face into every city and also location where He Himself was about to go. 17 Then the seventy [a] returned with pleasure, claiming," Lord, also the demons are subject to us in Your name.". I then saw that there was also one individual available that had not been part of the 70 or the 12 and also the disciples brought this as much as Jesus that specified," Leave him alone if he is doing these things in my name he is people.". This revealed me that it was not simply for Jesus or the 12 disciples. It was being shown and duplicated. Jesus claimed they must have been not eating as well as hoping." this one can only come out by fasting and also prayer.". Allow's go a little deeper right into this. The training over really got me thinking that it was not restricted to just Jesus or the adherents or perhaps the other 70. Maybe taught, duplicated, given to everyone. It was this following revelation that really changed me and also took the restrictions off in every area in the superordinary. My belief was turbo billed when I read this next scripture. Keep In Mind Saul of Tarsus. He was informed rich recognized the bibles had setting in service and federal government. He was a male among men. Well this exact same Saul of Tarsus had an amazing superordinary experience when Jesus showed up to Him. It knocked him to the ground, blinded him as well as altered his life permanently. The rest of his life was everything about stating what took place to him that day. Exactly how it changed him. He took place to compose two-thirds of the new testimony as an outcome of that a person encounter.

[resourcesacoursemiracles]

How You Can Do Miracles

Day 1 - How Anyone Can do Miracles

" Do miracles really happen?" It was God's still tiny voice to me. I keep in mind the very first time I ever saw Benny Hinn on TELEVISION. I resembled, "man that can't be genuine, It wants to simple so it has to be fake."

" I question how much he is charging those individuals?"

" Do you count on miracles?" God's voice ever before so gentle yet identifiable breathing on me again acim .

Up until that point I had submersed myself in the Prophetic and apostolic Movement so my principle of wonder healing was relegated to even more of a negative view than confidence as well as understanding.

In truth it was lack of knowledge of God's Word. I wondered exactly how one guy can recover another and afterwards one day it occurred to me.

Do Miracles Really Happen?

I had some individuals over to my house and also we were worshiping on a Friday night and the existence of God was strong customarily. One of my good friends, who was about my age and also fresh out of the world was standing against the wall worshiping.

As I went by him I placed my fingers in his ears and also said "be open". I don't also know why I did it, it just occurred. As I came back around God had revealed me a vision of him with one more young lady on the couch. As I passed by the 2nd time I murmured in his ear what I saw. He fell out on his back as well as simply lay there as most of us continued to praise in the splendor.

About 15 minutes had actually passed when my phone sounded and it was Billy, the guy I had actually murmured in his ear and wished.

I stated, "Billy? I assumed you were in the hallway?" Billy claimed, "Man, I was however when you shouted that throughout the rook at me regarding me and that woman I got ashamed and I jumped out the window as well as went to the shop.

" I said," Billy, I really did not yell at you I murmured it in your ear." "Oh my God," he said loudly, "God recovered me as well as offered me dog hearing!" My miracle recovery ministry was birthed that night and also God made a believer out of me.

Do you believe in wonders? Ask God to make a believer out of you, since the question do miracles truly occur was answered in my own life.

A revelation I obtained eventually while research words altered my life. Like you, I had actually been shown various things worrying wonders. One school of thought was that just Jesus carried out wonders while another mentioned that miracles receded after the Apostles. While studying these things I saw something that would certainly permanently transform me as well as release my confidence to run in the supernatural.

The Rabbinic Method

During Jesus times a rabbi or instructor would utilize this method to show his trainees. This is what Jesus was doing with his 12 disciples.

That would have been great to instruct that wonders can be educated to other individuals however it would certainly not have actually finished the argument that only the 12 adherents done miracles. I required something much more.

I then saw that Jesus took 70 others and started to do the exact same point with them. Luke 10:1 (New King James Version).

Luke 10.

The Seventy Sent Out.

1 After these things the Lord selected seventy others also, [a] and also sent them 2 by 2 prior to His face into every city and also location where He Himself was about to go.

17 Then the seventy [a] returned with pleasure, claiming," Lord, also the demons are subject to us in Your name.".

I then saw that there was also one individual available that had not been part of the 70 or the 12 and also the disciples brought this as much as Jesus that specified," Leave him alone if he is doing these things in my name he is people.".

This revealed me that it was not simply for Jesus or the 12 disciples. It was being shown and duplicated.

Jesus claimed they must have been not eating as well as hoping." this one can only come out by fasting and also prayer.".

Allow's go a little deeper right into this. The training over really got me thinking that it was not restricted to just Jesus or the adherents or perhaps the other 70. Maybe taught, duplicated, given to everyone.

It was this following revelation that really changed me and also took the restrictions off in every area in the superordinary. My belief was turbo billed when I read this next scripture.

Keep In Mind Saul of Tarsus. He was informed rich recognized the bibles had setting in service and federal government. He was a male among men. Well this exact same Saul of Tarsus had an amazing superordinary experience when Jesus showed up to Him. It knocked him to the ground, blinded him as well as altered his life permanently. The rest of his life was everything about stating what took place to him that day. Exactly how it changed him. He took place to compose two-thirds of the new testimony as an outcome of that a person encounter.

[thirst-order-confession]

Could I please request Bodhi reacting to fem!rc, who is normally neatly dressed and tidy and soft spoken, chest deep in an Xwing or other space ship engine? Messy hair, jacket off, maybe a grease smear across her face and hollering back and forth with the pilot of the ship but with a wide smile on her face? Sfw or Nsfw I don't care. I just want to see more Bodhi stuff. ^_^

Hey there thanks so much for this ask! I had a blast writing it. It’s pretty long since it took on a mind of it’s own. I adore Bodhi and I kinda wanted to showcase the fact that the rebel Alliance was becoming a family and home for him. This is more of a snippet in the life of both the reader and Bodhi who have yet to define their relationship. 

PS: I took on a different approach to Bodhi’s shyness. In the movie he has a lot of nervous energy rather than outright shy tendencies so I focused in on that. :3 

It was a wonder that the X-wing made it back at all. Not many pilots came back from head on collisions with the rough terrain of that day of the week’s battle setting. By this point (Y/N) had seen it all; from paint jobs withered away by meteors to ships half filled with water it’s pilot miraculously sitting amongst the sea life. But some crashes drove home just how much was at risk; that the job of an X-wing fighter went beyond the amazing feats and the stuff of legends. Some cost lives some simply spoke of dumb luck.

The well position shot that brought the ship down scorched through via the nose of the plane, showcasing the intricate wiring below that had formed an almost perfect halo running along the length. Embedding in the cockpit somewhere just above where Hobbie’s head rested, was just that, dumb luck that took down the plane but spared the pilot.

And here Hobbie stood, arm in a sling ready to get back into the piece of what could only be called scrap metal at this point, tear off his cast and fight the good fight. Thankfully for his health and the sanity of Vrogas Vas, who reckless in his own right, played the role of the concerned squad leader well, the x-wing was not going anywhere anytime soon. Effectively grounding the hot shot pilot and all but, condemning his X-wing to be broken down into scrap metal. It’d serve it’s purpose for the rebellion either in battle or as a way to get the money to fuel the ins and outs no one but those inside the base thought about.

To Hobbie the X-wing was like an extension of himself and while Poe could sympathize in some ways, he knew when to let go. Having totalled two crafts before the one he now rode with well practiced ease.

“Hobbie…”

“No no, (Y/N), look before you say anything hear me out. She’s given me a good run and saved me life. I’m repaying the favor. I’ve tried asks the other mechanics around but now one will touch it or even go near me at this point!” His frustration was imminent by the ruddy color that had settled on his high cheekbones causing the blue of his eyes to become more prominent. The same blue eyes he tried batting the way of another mechanic just days before. All it took was one look at (Y/N)’s softening demeanor to see that he struck a chord; Hobbie let out a breath he didn’t know he was hold, thankful for the fact that he didn’t have to charm the straight laced mechanic. He knew better than to try that with (Y/N) who was plainly head over heels over one of the bases resident heroes, Bodhi Rook.

Quickly, the Jedha pilot, who played a major role in the battle of Scariff, became the talk of the base. Unlike Cassian he did not hold the same prickly demeanor that urged people to not waste his time. It was to the point that the shy pilot couldn’t go anywhere without being stopped. Words often taken out of context, whispered amongst the base inhabitants. His role in it all blown of proportion until he was soon looked at like one of the war heroes the empire had warned him against. How things had changed in the past 6 months for him. Going from a cargo pilot who was simply another cog in the machine to one of the most wanted men in the galaxy along side names like Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor.

It was for these reasons that he felt so at ease around (Y/N). Treating him as any of the new recruits she’d often helped with navigating the maze like hanger of Yavin. When days were especially hot and the asphalt of the semi exposed hanger seemed to bake the pilots alive, Bodhi, would often spot her resting against one of the gargantuan walls of the pyramid like structure; peering out into the expanses of green that peaked through the fog. Despite the heat (Y/N) always dressed up to code in her regulation jumpsuit, hair neatly tied back from her eyes, small smile reserved for him as she called him to join her. This is where he’d spend what few moments he could spare. Soon Y/N didn’t have to ask instead he simply gravitated towards the mechanic who magically seemed to avoid the grease and rust stains that colored all others in her division. The months blended into a tempestuous routine of Battles, missions and quiet afternoons joking around with one of the sharpest mechanics in the rebel alliance.

Today was one of those odd days spent in his psydo-home. The endless green now as familiar to him as the inside of the craft his piloted. Back from a three week mission on the other side of the Galaxy his body screamed at him to rest but his mind had other ideas. Deep brown eyes darted around from face to face. The mix of tan and garishly bright orange jump suits blurring together as he ran around. All eager to get back to their dorms after a long day of fixing the unfixable and doing the impossible. Not paying attention to where he was going Bodhi accidently rammed into an unsuspecting person. A sharp intake of breath was broken by the deep chuckle that rumbled from under civilian clothing of the grounded pilot. “Hey Bod! Welcome back, what’s the hurry?”

“Sorry Hobbie! Didn’t see you there..” Bodhi rattled off; talking a mile per minute as always. “How’s the arm” He added in; wincing as he looked Hobbie over. He looked no worse for wear, certainly less delirious since he last saw him. He could clearly picture Hobbie than, high on adrenaline, it took several of them to hold him down. All but tackling him as he continued on his tirade about the hell he’d bring to the empire after what they did to his X-wing. He was strong for a little guy..

“Oh good as new” The wry smile Hobbie offered did not seem to match his statement. But nothing could curve the joy that came from finally getting his way. (Y/N) had said yes after all. A reluctant yes, but a yes nonetheless.

Bodhi smiled at that. Playfully slapping Hobbie on his tender shoulder light enough not to truly hurt but hard enough to cause him to swallow his pride and wince. “Fuck’in hell..”

 “Oh yeah definitely up for the turbulent flights. Being knocked around in the cockpit.” He joked good naturedly, shyly brushed stray strands of inky black hair out of his eyes. A nervous habit that still persisted despite being around friends. Hobbie was at least above hero worship, set on making a name for himself rather than hanging off the arm of someone else. “Hey I will be as soon as my ships good as new.”

Bodhi’s eyes widened comically taking in the smug smile across Hobbie’s face. No one in their right mind would have touched the scorched scrap metal. “(Y/N) will have it fixed in no time. Yeah she gave me some grief about it, stating that it’s take the better part of the next ten years to fix it or that I had a better chance of getting K2 to like me but I’m optimistic”

“She can fix anything that’ll run.” He said confidently, fully aware of the stubborn nature of the object of his affection. “ I just don’t know if she won’t kill you before it’s done”.

Three hours had passed since Hobbie had all but pulled at (Y/N)’s heart strings. “Stupid Hobbie and his stupid love for this stupid piece of junk. I should just melt it down myself not that it sell for much is there anything that still works?!” She muttered in between grunts as she unscrewed a bolt. Her words held little bite, more annoyance at the current task at this point to warrant any real threat. The melted metal of what was meant to be heat resistant giving her a good arm workout amidst the sharp edges and bare wire inside. Everyone in her little corner of the workspace had left long ago; going with nightfall. Now all that kept her company was the stickly breeze that would come in every now and then to lick at her bare arms every time she came up from the bowels of the beast of the ship to take a breath. The long sleeved jumpsuit long ago unzipped tied haphazardly around her waist, showcasing the tight fitted once white, now horribly stained grey tank top she wore underneath.

Torso deep, grease had made it’s way up her forearms giving off the illusion of sporting odd mismatched, slick, stripes and patches along feverish skin. Her hair fanned around around her, like a halo; having come undone as sharp corners and randomly placed bolts within the machinery snagged the plaits in her hair. Brand new nails held in between her teeth. The R2 droid assigned to help her letting out concerned beeps every now and then. Met only by a unbeat indiscernible tune as a response.

By the time Bodhi had gotten away from Hobbie and just about every other person who wanted an update on his latest mission (Y/N) was tugging on a twist sheet of metal with all her might. Feet planted firmly apart before the metal groaned and bent back into shape with a loud clank. Glistening from the light sheen of sweat that build up on her tired form he marveled as she watched her laugh triumphantly. Fists pumping in the air as turned to the droid. “Ha! Hell yeah I told you I could move it!” The encouraging chirps were halted by the sound of Bodhi’s approaching footsteps. They seemed painfully loud in quiet of the night. “Bodhi!” (Y/N) said breathlessly, deft fingers quickly moving to tan jumpsuit as she wiped her hands with practiced ease on the course material.

“Welcome home”.

He swallowed hard. It seems that whenever he was around her he either seemed to find it infinitely hard to find words or to stop the trainwreck of sentences that sped through his mouth. It seemed that today his mind favored quiet as he drank in the odd sight. Gone was the picturesque look of the feisty mechanic, in it’s place was one he had never seen before. Her love for what she did truly showed she had never seemed more beautiful than she did now in her natural habitat. Relaxed with an open smile, grease smeared on the bride of her nose though, he doubted she had noticed.

“You did quick work. It’s looking less like a hopeless case now”. He offered at last finding his words. It earned him a breathy laugh. The air seemed to grow more humid or was it simply the heat of the blush that was spreading through his body that caused the wind to provide little relief. “Hey I’ll have you know that this is now slightly functioning scrap metal rather than a neat pile of junk”. He smiled at that, both at ease and on edge by her very presence. Naturally the two seemed to draw closer. Gently he brushed away stickly locks from her forehead, returning them to the wild mass that still vaguely resembled a braid.

Her smile softened, leaning into the slight touch. Unspoken attraction and feelings buzzed around the two like the odd lightning bugs that (y/n) had seen some of the new recruits capture in jars. Her words from earlier had just struck him. This was home. From the quirky x-wing pilots that both livened the place and went to places that no doubt haunted them to the brilliant mechanics that kept everything running. Happy to simply do what they do; not calling for any more thanks than what was given always. Always ready to tackle the next job without complaint and here he was somewhere in between hero and average pilot. A part of something bigger than himself, a cause that didn’t strip away who he was but rather welcomed it.

The kiss came abruptly, no words were shared, no fairytale moment just a simple gesture between two people who didn’t need any words to convey what they felt. Her lips were warm against his own tasting vaguely of lip balm she’d often apply and heat. Undemanding almost lazy in their languid exploration of his lips; natural. He returned it with a bit more vigor. Nervous energy focused in on a single task; memorizing the shape as he might memorize star maps.

The loud crash and unceremonious beeps of the fallen over R2 brought them back to where they were. He was the first to break the kiss breathless eyes that he hadn’t even registered close opened. (Y/N) stood there with a giddy smile. The same he had seen moments ago. Her lips twitched before she let out a snort followed by a breathy laugh. If anything the R2 unit complained even more. Bodhi soon found himself laughing at the expense of the poor little bot. “I don’t think it’ll want to help you after this.”

“You good with a wrench Rook?” (Y/N) said as she jutted out her hips, balancing her weight on her left side. “Well more like holding a flashlight if we’re going by what he was doing”. Warm eyes darted to the droid that had somehow righted itself.

“Depending on how well you do, you might just get a reward”

“Oh yeah are you kidding me? I’m the best flashlight holder in the base” he stuttered out. No doubt his face was as red as the streaks that ran along the x-wing. But he could honestly care less. What he had (Y/N) was not defined but he had all the time in the world to figure that out.

“If that’s the case neither one of us will be getting any sleep tonight.”

Sorry I didn’t get to the NSFW stuff. This would have been waay longer if I had. This was already well over 2000 words. I’m always happy to write more of this! tho ;)