#True Prayer

[glryb2gd]

Don't pray in public. Imagination is your prayer closet 🚪

[martinsorbit]

HELLO?????? HELLOOOOO???? CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME????

[maihonhassan]

I’m touched by this beautiful quote:

“How wrong of us to even think for a second that Allah won't answer our duas while we are currently living in our other answered duas”

[mauvearts]

Caranthir

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[lachances]

Hey, I live in the area where the Apalachee high school shooting occurred, I have family that works at this school. I would really appreciate if yall would spread the godundme's of the families of the Apalachee high school shooting that occurred last Wednesday.

Richard Aspinwall, teacher

https://www.gofundme.com/f/assist-shayna-aspinwall-in-this-difficult-time?modal=donations&tab=all

Cristina Irimie, teacher

https://www.gofundme.com/f/honor-cristina-irimies-legacy-support-her-family

Christian Angulo, 14 year old student

https://www.gofundme.com/f/funeral-services-for-christian-angulo

Mason Schermerhorn, 14 year old student

https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-masons-family-in-their-time-of-loss

[upliftourday]

[ellewod]

Fuck dignity. I want revenge.

[viterbofangirllovestheuntamed]

LXC a little sour to JC not because he dislikes the younger sect leader, some jiang sect disciple would probably shiv him for that, but because he's a tiny bit jealous, LQR occasionally compares LXC's ability to do paperwork/organize things/maintain discipline to JC's and frequently finds LXC lacking, especially in the paperwork department, and in the Lan sect at least it's an open secret that LQR wishes that JC was HIS nephew/son

A Small Selection Of Lan Qiren Comments That Lan Xichen Has Endured Over Years Of Doing Official Paperwork With Shufu:

- *apropos of nothing* I heard that Jiang Wanyin knows all the local farmers personally.

- Where are the source citation footnotes? … WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘the what, now?’?!?!?

- Did you see the way Sect Leader Jiang glared at his disciples when they started whispering during that last cultivation conference? They way they just... snapped to order? Immediately? And barely breathed for the remainder of the meeting?? *deep sigh*

- I must say, Jiang-zongzhu’s arrangement of this graph speaks to a highly methodical and logistically-gifted mind.

- You only referenced data from the last *three* years in this year’s annual report? Hm...  Nothing. NO, it’s FINE. I just agree with certain other parties that one can only truly get a comprehensive picture of long-range projections by utilizing statistics from at least the last decade…

[respectthepetty]

I'm always showing up for YinWar, so, of course, I'm excited about Jack & Joker, but if it came down to it with my back against the wall, I really am watching solely to see if Mark and Prom kiss because the posters keep putting them next to each other, and that's all I need to ship it!

I want what Love Mechanics denied me!

GIVE THEM TO ME!

[ae-cha08]

What a beautiful verse, what an awesome picture. Do you see it? A full reward be given you by the Lord, the God of Israel under whose wings you have come to take refuge. 💙

[watcherintheweyr]

desperately need people to understand that alicent is a victim but she’s also an abuser and a perpetrator

that she actively makes choices to harm other women because of jealousy and envy and the greed deep in her bones because submitting to suffering didn’t get her what those women fight to grasp for themselves.

she is absolutely a victim, in show.

that doesn’t change that she abused rhaenyra and her children, her own son, most likely helaena given how she flinches every time her mother touches her, and is actively weaponizing the patriarchy of westeros against other women- rhaenyra primarily, but also mysaria and dyana.

she isn’t the moral, righteous force of good that even she thinks she is, she’s a wounded woman directing all of the rot, pain, and fury inside her at the wrong people and forces.

[escapedaudios]

The Six Commandments of the Reaper's Servants (AKA Slashers)

I'm getting ready for the Slasher sequel, coming this spooky season! The slasher "rules" are going to be way more important, so I'm officially listing them out.

May death and fear be sewn where ever you step.

May no virgin blood be spilled.

May one pontificator survive the bloodshed and live to tell the legend.

May thee never strike against a faithful servant of the reaper, unless retribution has been commanded.

May thee shed blood only upon thine own hallowed ground.

May each hallowed ground be reigned over by one servant.

Remain faithful to these commandments and you shall be given eternal life through eternal death. Death himself will pluck your soul and body from the flames of hell and return thee to thine hallowed ground. Rise, ghouls, rise and show mortals the meaning of fear.

[blueskittlesart]

sof zelda also changes appearance?

yep! nothing so dramatic as ganon, but she does have 2 alternate outfits:

and she wears the white one for basically the whole second half of the story, so that's the look she's got when she interacts with ganon!

[yaolmao]

Bro I ordered a blonde bitch and I got this instead

[dayurno]

basically

[happenssweet]

this song is so dodge mason coded... walk with me... let me present you with something...

when you'd first met dodge, you knew you wanted him as your first. your dad had hired him to help with some busy work around the church, and while dodge was neither particularly religious himself, nor interested in the way your father could turn anything into a sermon, he figured helping the man that was likely privy to everyone's thoughts and troubles could gain him some information.

what he had not anticipated was you coming up to him after a long day of getting the grassy yard beside the church set up for carp's easter breakfast.

what he had not anticipated was the way your legs kicked flowing white fabric forward, or how your fingertips felt over his as you handed him some water.

you could just tell, from the way his shirt hung from his shoulders and his adams apple bobbed, the way he thanked you in a voice full of distrust, that this was the boy for you.

he knew, vaguely, that you were the preacher's daughter. a little chaste, a bit more modest than most of the other girls your age. he'd once heard a guy make a joke in passing about getting 'struck down' being worth getting in your pants. and quite simply, that wasn't his speed. so he never thought much of you. until that afternoon.

now, dodge mason, who had been all but dubbed a recluse, was showing up for wednesday mass. who the fuck showed up for wednesday mass? dodge did. as long as he could sit next to you, letting you help lead him along during hymns, your fingertip drifting below the words long past the time he'd memorized them.

he even let you keep him after for a mini bible study each time, just the two of you discussing what had been on your mind regarding the book lately. he still didn't think he really believed in it all. but he liked the way you spoke about it, soft and kind and hopeful, a stark contrast to what he had experienced as religion in the south up until that point. until you.

so, yeah, when he asked your father for permission to take you out, you guessed you weren't too surprised. and you definitely didn't say no. he was respectful, always getting you back home on time, never going further than a few kisses and a hand on the waist or jaw. everyone else was a bit shocked, just to see the restraint. to see the way he'd soften his shell around you, letting you lean on him, talk to him all softly. even more shocked to see the way he'd do the same right back.

you supposed it didn't quite make sense. you'd known what he was like before, gruff and introverted, keeping to his family in terms of socialization. but then he took you home for the first time, and the moment you saw him with his mom and sister, it clicked. when he loved, he loved hard. and to introduce you to the most important people in his life? god, he must love you more than you ever could've guessed.

he didn't stay so restrained forever, easing you into longer kisses, then to makeouts, then to kisses on the neck and hands that wandered along your sides and arms. but they were never alone, always accompanied by an "is this okay?" or a "good?". and it always was.

once you were more comfortable, he became bolder, fingers slipping beneath fabric, tongue slipping between your lips and down your jaw. there were a few times you thought he might try and take it further, but it never turned to more than just heated makeouts. maybe he was trying not to scare you? you didn't know. but the way he groaned into your mouth before needing to cool off made you think when you finally did go all the way, it would be beyond passionate. borderline animalistic, you imagined. something you'd have to take your cross necklace off for.

but when you told him you were ready, the words dripping with implication, you could tell he was shocked. it wouldn't happen then. no, not when he hadn't prepared. not when he knew he couldn't give you all the time in the world.

and when it did, a week later, you never could've anticipated what it was. flickering candles sitting on his dresser and desk, fresh sheets, and flowers he'd handed you at the door. the faint smell of his cologne in the air, as if he'd sprayed some extra around the room earlier that day.

despite how long he'd waited, there wasn't even the smallest indication of a rush, not for the entire night. eagerness? yes. desire? most definitely. but through each and every step, dodge took as much time as he needed to treat you with the utmost care and consideration.

coming up behind you as you looked around his room, brushing soft kisses along the backs of your almost bare shoulders. gentle hands lifting the straps off of them, giving him full access to the typically-hidden expanses of skin.

he'd made sure the house would be empty for the weekend. he needed the time. needed to spend an hour just kissing you. just slowly uncovering every bit of you, not wanting to leave a single inch without reverent touch.

nothing had ever felt so right, regardless of what you may have been taught about premarital intimacy. "they have no idea what they're talking about", you thought as he held you, straddling his lap, stripped to your underwear, giggling softly as he kissed down past your cross necklace, the gold gleaming in the flickering candlelight. he laughed with you, his fingertips tracing deftly down your spine before slowly unhooking the clasp of your bra.

there was no way this could be wrong. there was no way this could be anything but holy, the way he looked in your eyes, the way he held you so carefully. this was goodness, this was God. what could be more sacred than this love?

you would both later describe it as a religious experience, in separate conversations, at separate times. that's exactly what it was. no need to take the necklace off. in fact, you couldn't imagine the experience without it. it belonged in that room, between the two of you.

it was in the way he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them off of you without ever breaking eye contact. it was in the way he kissed up your thighs, singing your praises, little whispers and breaths dancing across the tender flesh. this was his sacrament, getting his first taste of you, giving you your first taste of the rest of your life.

it was in the way he let himself come last, both literally and figuratively. it was in the way he let you look at him, hold him, observe him, before even thinking about spreading your legs again and settling between them. it was in the way he ran himself through your folds, making sure he was coated enough to not cause you even the slightest discomfort. it was in the way he held your hand next to your head, fingers interlaced, as he gently slipped in, asking how you were after every inch, making sure you were totally comfortable before letting a soft string of curses out through his lips.

and it was in the way he held you the whole time, made sure you knew how much he adored you every single second. there was no denying it anymore, if you ever could before.

every single minute of time he'd carved out for you, he spent worshipping you. even once he'd cleaned you up, even once the two of you had dressed again. until the second he had to drive you back home, he was holding you, kissing you, checking in on you, and loving you. making you feel as divine as the being that had brought the two of you together.

every single laugh, every single kiss, every single touch. that was what was holy.