#boo church

[whatthemelmel]

Yesssss girl get that nap

My First Sermon, 1863 and My Second Sermon, 1864 by John Everett Millais (English, 1829–1896)

[vlindervin7]

realised yesterday just how often hozier actually used to sing about being not quite alive, not feeling like a person, about loving someone in a way that defies death and made him more alive, about suffering death for love. it's like he was constantly being buried underground and unearthed by love, over and over, which, while romantic in a way, is also incredibly sad. but i think it's interesting how his latest album (literally called 'unreal unearth') takes this idea and makes it its central theme. that's what this album is, one man's descent into the underworld. except, crucially, he makes it to the other side, and ends the album saying the darkness will come again, but this time he is "never going back [to hell] again." it feels like such a full-circle moment considering the rest of his discography and i'm so very excited to see what comes after this

[hardmeaty]

I know I’m probably not the first person to think of this but I hope Kelvin becomes just as annoying as Gay Mac

[smytherines]

writing gay smut in church just like the good lord intended

[joltning]

consider… wash gets church’s memories during implantation due to a sort of mind meld. would that mean…church had some of wash’s memories too?

[momentsbeforemass]

“Your boos mean nothing”

Not everyone is going to like you.

That’s not news. Experience tells us that.

It shouldn’t bother us when it happens. It’s so common that we should be expecting it.

Even so, it still hurts.

Whether it’s a divorce or the end of a friendship. Maybe it’s a job hunt that never seems to pay off. Someone at work who second-guesses you. Or being treated like a thing instead of a human being.

Rejection cuts deep.

And no matter how we try to deal with our feelings rationally. No matter how many times we tell ourselves it doesn’t matter. It still hurts.

Because – no matter who we are – there’s something in us that desperately wants to be accepted.

So how do we deal with that?

We can’t turn it off, not completely. It’s just how we’re made.

But what we can do is choose. You and I can choose whose acceptance matters to us.

This is what Jesus is talking about (in today’s Gospel) when He says to His critics, “I do not accept human praise.”

Jesus doesn’t waste time looking for approval from His critics. And Jesus tells us why,

“I know that you do not have the love of God in you.”

Jesus knows that their rejection has nothing to do with Him. And everything to do with what’s going badly inside of them.

(It’s a dynamic that’s reflected in Rick Sanchez’s classic line, “Your boos mean nothing, I’ve seen what makes you cheer.”)

That’s great, but there’s still something missing. Because even if we’re not chasing the approval of people, there’s still part of us that desperately wants to be accepted.

What do you and I do about that?

We follow Jesus’ example, and “seek the praise that only comes from God.”

Look for approval from the only opinion that matters in the end.

Find your acceptance in the One who has always loved you. The One who will never reject you.

Today’s Readings

[aria0fgold]

Omori was created for the sole purpose of protecting the dreamer, Sunny. Keep him from anything harmful, keep him from discovering the Truth, anything that can possibly hurt him. And Omori resolved to do so from start to finish, a mechanical clockwork of duty he had been enacting for 4 years. It’s so simple, and oh so easy for him.

Except, it wasn’t.

Not when he started gaining his own sentience, not when he started thinking for himself. Not when everything started to fall apart as he recalled all the past resets.

Arriving in Blackspace always mean one thing. The dreamer is close to discovering the Truth again. An area that is ever changing and never constant, with pitch black doors leading to cursed sights that Sunny buries deep in his mind, it’s something that Omori had gotten used to.

“Omori... You came back for me!”

It seems he had chosen a door leading to Basil’s one of many deaths. He’s used to it.

“Watermelons sure are delicious!“

He’s used to it.

“Summer vacation with friends was the best, wasn’t it?“

He’s used to it.

Walking to the far right, finding themselves in a room full of watermelons scattered about with Basil closely following behind in silence. He’d cut open every watermelon he sees for the key, the way out of the place. Until his cut was directed to Basil instead, turning it bits and pieces of a bloody watermelon staining the floor behind him. He didn’t look, and instead continued to cut the one in front of him, grabbing the key to hurriedly leave the place with pursed lips. Unbeknownst to him that he subconsciously bit his inner cheek, not too much so as to draw blood, but it is an action foreign to a boy with neither a will and emotion of his own. Supposedly.

Omori continued opening the other doors.

. . .

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Omori. I thought I was gonna be stuck here forever.“

Another impending death. Omori stared at Basil for a moment, trapped within a large cobweb. He easily gets him free with one slash.

“Phew... That feels so much better.“

He led the way just the same as he once did with the other one.

“You know... I think spiders are really misunderstood...” Basil started to talk again.

Omori merely listened in silence.

“There’s so many spiders here all of a sudden...“

They continued to walk again. Omori tightly clutched his knife. He’s feeling a certain emotion he has yet felt at all, he doesn’t know what to describe it as.

“Ack! They’re biting me!”

The feeling grew. What is it, what would the others describe it as. Omori glanced at Basil. There were too many spiders on him, it made Omori feel uneasy. Was it uneasiness? No, it couldn’t be. Basil was comforting the spiders, awaiting Omori to move again.

They’ll hurt him. They’ll kill him.

Another impending death...

Could I... prevent that?

Omori took a deep breath as he turned around.

“Wh-what is it, Omori? Why are you holding your knife like that?“

“Stay still...“

Omori carefully swatted the spiders away with the blunt side of the knife before slashing them with its blade.

“Oh! Th-thanks! But.. ack!“

He kept at it. Yet no matter how much he swat away and kill, more emerges from seemingly nowhere. And soon, there was far too many of them.

“There’s so many of them... I can’t get them off!“

Omori can only watch in horror as Basil was engulfed by them.

I couldn’t prevent it...

Perhaps, he never could. Omori continued on to find the key and open another door.

[aphverse-confessions]

Honestly this ask blog is like a Church of Irene and you’re the one manning the confessional booth, hearing about all of the Aarmau/Aaron complaints (the matrons sent her strongest warrior)

Love that in this church I have a billboard with everyone's confessions to broadcast

[emofrog69]

religious trauma is real it quite literally gave me OCD lmfao

[sweetashoneyhoney]

*harmonising with the opening garage door* aaaaah 🎶 i don't wanna gooooo 🎶 wanna stay hooooooome🎶

[meetmeinthesandbox]

In 1992, Sinead O'Connor ripped up a picture of the Pope on live television, in protest of the rampant child sexual abuse the Catholic Church was actively covering up.

Ten days later, she was scheduled to perform at Madison Square Gardens, as part of a celebration of Bob Dylan. As soon as she got to the microphone, the audience began loudly booing her, seemingly in unison.

The organizers tasked Kris Kristofferson with removing O'Connor from the stage. He instead went out and put his arm around her and checked in on her and stayed until she'd steadied herself and was ready to perform. When she came off stage, he wrapped her in a bear hug.

"Sinead had just recently on Saturday Night Live torn up a picture of the Pope, in a gesture that I thought was very misunderstood. And she came out and got booed. They told me to go get her off the stage and I said 'I'm not about to do that'

I went out and I said 'Don't let the bastards get you down'. She said 'I'm not down' and she sang. It was very courageous. It just seemed wrong to me, booing that little girl out there. But she's always had courage."

[fkitwebhaal]

Anyway, here are my thoughts about what each of the companions would present on if they had to give the rest of the party a PowerPoint presentation:

Gale: A completely accurate and detailed lecture regarding the theories of teleportation magic, how it works, and the differences between it and plane shift. There are multiple charts and graphs.

Wyll: “Choosing your hero name: an adventurer’s guide” He does have suggestions for the entire party.

Karlach: “Ranking bars in the gate based on how much they remind me of Avernus.” She has provided illustrations that she made herself. Anything in the Upper City is ranked “like Avernus” because “occupied entirely by pricks.”

Shadowheart: “So I was wrong about Shar: a reluctant apology.” It’s mostly a debunk of Shar’s lies but the entire time it does look like she is pulling teeth. However, she cheers up considerably when she presents on some of the church’s secrets, including the weird ass code names for things that she always thought were a little silly.

Lae’zel: a very educational and complete history of her people’s war against the mind flayers. It’s all rather academic until the last slide which says “AND THIS IS WHY WE DON’T EAT THE WORMS” in all caps.

Astarion: “Ranking you by whose blood I’d want to drink most.” In order, it is as follows Gale (rancid), Karlach (spicy), Minthara (probably is poisonous after all the poison she’s been exposed to), Jaheria (that story about what she did to one of the spawn was memorable), Shadowheart (does cleric blood taste radiant?), Lae’zel (curious how Gith taste, doesn’t want to die), Minsc (large and has extra blood to spare), Halsin (can turn into a bear, think of all that real estate), Wyll (canon verified snack)

Halsin: “Foraging: what’s edible and what isn’t” Gale takes very dutiful notes given someone gave him a mushroom two ten days ago that gave the entire camp food poisoning. Astarion, the only one who did not get food poisoning, who has completely forgotten what he foraged was the culprit, takes 0 notes.

Minthara: Battle orders and tactics. All of these fools need to get whipped into shape.

Jaheria: “Get it Fucking Together: Stop Doing this Shit.” What follows is a callout of everyone’s worst habits and decisions. One slide just says “stop snitching.”

Minsc: it’s just pictures of Boo.

[mysticaltora8276]

Is not because….reasons.

[charlieswebb]

ALL MY FRIENDS HATE THE CATHOLIC CHURCH

[slamminslamminmcgill]

I need to be high off my ass while deadpool fucks me. That’s it. that’s the post. Wade wilson the man that you are. Hurfgghdhhhh. yeah. weed makes me horny so definitely that…… Deadpool….. save me………….. headlock….. his arms…. ehhshhhshhhhh

deadpool headlock on drugs inspired by my last dick appointment coming right up!!

warning: intox (weed), choking, oral, daddy kink, humiliation, transphobic slurs

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

suggested listening: Gorillaz - Superfast Jellyfish (trying something new w/ poolposting!! i love the deadpool soundtrack and the vibes the music creates for each scene so im trying to emulate that. also discovered recently that this is a perfect song to smoke and get your pussy ate to 😌)

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that, sugarcunt. Speak up for me, will ya?”

“F-Feels so… feels so fucking gooooood…”

“Mm, but does it? If you’re still speaking in complete sentences, then my work’s not done. Go ahead and take another hit. Or two. Y’know what? Just finish the bowl. I’ll pack you another if you’re still too smart for my liking.”

Wade punctuated his order with a sharp smack to your cunt, sloppy with his spit and your need. His mask was pulled up just over his mouth so he could service you.

This motherfucker was trying to kill you. Or at the very least, give you some form of brain damage. Every consecutive orgasm reduced your cognitive functioning. To his credit, though, it sounded like a generous offer when he first proposed it.

“You need to relax, honey-boo. How’s about you smoke up while I go down, if you catch my drift?"

He was lying on his stomach, his chin resting in his hands, his legs in the air kicking back and forth, watching as you took rapid fire bong hits. You tried your best to burn through the bowl as quickly as you could, and you got about three solid clouds out before you started coughing. Hard.

“That’s it. You got it,” Wade cooed, stroking your inner thigh, “Just cough out all those neurons for me, good boy. Daddypool’s stupid little boy, I’m so proud of you!” He used your coughing fit as an opportunity to sneak two fingers inside you, and gawked at how you hard you clenched them. “Ooh, yeah, you got some good grip strength in you, cupcake. Squeezing those fingers like a hug from a church-going grandma. 'Am I gonna see you next week at the bake sale, honey?' Oh, yes, you will, Miss Nancy!"

What? What in the actual fuck is he yapping about? Was that supposed to be a joke? You had no mental bandwidth left to even speak, let alone dissect Wade's meandering, confusing, drawn-out metaphors for your pussy. "Wh… Wha-a-a?"

"Oh, that’s sounding much dumber, baby! Good boy!" He said cheerily, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his suit. "Seems like you’re just about ready for Daddy."

--

"Oh my god, look at you! You look so cute pinned down like this! Aw, you can’t move, can you, dummy? Nowhere for you to go, huh? Except back onto Daddy’s cock where you belong."

Wade had you on your back, your ankles on his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs as he pounded into you, over and over, deeper and deeper. So deep, in fact, it was as if he was shoving your womb up into your throat. Choking on that and a mouthful of drool, you cried out for him, pawing at his arms just to feel him close to you.

“Daddy—Da-! Daddy, Daddyyy-y-y~!”

Wade could see the desperation on your face, that yearning for closeness, and dangled it over your head. “Aw, poor baby, you need a hug? But you’re already hugging me so tight, with that—f-fucking wet honey-pot cunt you’ve got there��ah! Fuck! Ah… shit, I got’cha, come here.”

Wade withdrew his hips, leaving you gaping and empty without his cock stretching you out. He leaned down to wrap his arms tightly around you, though before you could hug him back, he flipped you onto your stomach. He pressed a firm hand onto your back to keep you lying prone on the mattress. With you trapped beneath him once again, he pushed back in.

“Ooooh, that’s it, babyboy, that’s the ticket.”

You sobbed into the pillows, keeping your sounds timid and muffled, and your dignity somewhat intact. But Wade wouldn’t let you off that easy. He hooked his arms around your neck and yanked you up into him. The pressure on your windpipe turned your moans into weak gasps and sputters. The lack of oxygen set your nerves alight, burning with hypersensitivity. And to make matters worse, he wouldn’t stop growling filth right into your ear.

“God, I can feel my balls smacking your tiny little tranny dick like this… Can feel you twitching… So fuck—so fucking wet… Mmmm, I’m gonna shoot the biggest fuckin’ load into you... Not… not yet though… No, I’m not done with you, yet, slutter-butter. I can just… mmm, edge myself inside you… keep you nice and full… All. Fucking. Night.”

[a-punchline-on-duct-tape]

things i noticed on my re-read:

- ponyboy has “almost—red hair.”

- johnny can’t say “boo to a goose.”

- ponyboy owes johnny 150$ from poker while they were in the church

- just a HILARIOUS quote “sent from heaven? had he gotten a good look at dallas?” ponyboy micheal curtis is hilarious and i don’t wanna hear anything else

- ponyboy isn’t like his parents, but his brothers are

- the curtis and shepard gang have a weird whistle that means “who’s there?” and people don’t talk about it enough

- dally called ponyboy “sleeping beauty.”

- soda’s letter to ponyboy had so many spelling and grammatical mistakes.

- dally had stubble when he went to get ponyboy and johnny “a stubble of colorless beard.”

- johnny’s crazy about drag races.

- dally thinks everything was cherry’s fault.

- dally has a cousin that lives in the area of the church, and told him it’d make a good hiding spot.

- johnny has a “deathly fear of cops.”

- jerry was too fat to climb through the church’s window.

- johnny was having fun in the church.

- soda wouldn’t quit messing with the reporters, he stole their hats and cameras, and even grabbed a cops gun.

- if johnny survived, he would’ve been crippled.

- two-bit’s mom said they should lock the door because of burglars, but darry just flexed his arms in response.

- two-bit was cleaning eggs off the floor after he knocked them off ponyboy’s pan.

- johnny would’ve been charged with manslaughter.

- soda went into darry’s closet to grab his jeans, and steve followed him in. apparently, “in a second, there was the general racket of a pillow fight.”

- two-bit’s mom is just like two-bit, except she isn’t lazy.

- randy’s thinking of leaving town.

- johnny and his mom look exactly the same, with black hair and big black eyes.

- the only difference is johnny has “fearful and sensitive” eyes, while her’s are “cheap and hard.”

- dallas looked out the window instead of at two-bit and ponyboy when he asked about johnny

- cherry had her hair up and she was wearing a ski jacket when she went to go meet the greasers.

- tim shepard has curly black hair and “smoldering” dark-blue eyes. he also has a scar from temple to chin because a “tramp” hit him with a broken soda bottle.

- tim accidentally stepped on ponyboy during the rumble.

- all johnny had ever wanted was for dallas to be proud of him.

- bob had the same smile as soda.

- greasers don’t eat in the school cafeteria.

- curly fell off from a telephone poll and he broke his arm. the face curly made was the same as sodapop’s when darry and ponyboy were fighting.

- when ponyboy wrote his theme, it didn’t hurt to think about johnny and dally.