#nobody in the bible prayed to mary

[lacybunie]

adieu, mon dieu!

“forgive me, father, for i have committed the biggest sin of all!”

pairing: afab!reader x re4r!leon

warnings: smut, virginity loss, blasphemy, dub-con, inexperienced/pure reader, religious reader, manipulation, cum eating, creampie, pussy slapping, pet names, breeding kink, slight choking, crying during sex, age gap mention (reader is 19 while leon is 27), fingering, porn with plot (?), bit of ooc leon

note: first time writing hence why it’s so long :3 also wrote this based on leon saying “i’ll give you a holy body” in re4r bc nobody freaks out over it like i do

“holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners.” the prayer is muscle memory. a smile adorns your face as you walk out of sunday mass with your family. oh how you cherish the time spent in god’s temple. you would not have it any other way. this small, quiet town in washington homes jesus freaks like yourself. where every summer, all children through teens spend their time at church camp. cross necklaces or rosaries are worn around the necks of bypassers and neighbors. you feel as though you are blessed with such a life.

so when leon appears in your life, you think you’re the most blessed girl alive. as the two of you go steady, he starts attending church with you and listens to the word of the lord with you in his black jeep. he listens to your prayers and readings of the bible. leon couldn’t be anymore perfect. “our heavenly father has blessed me with a man who loves me.” pink hues flush your cheeks as you smile giddishly during confession. “do not let temptation fool you.” the priest on the other side taunts, almost as if it’s a warning.

the people of the church disagree with the relationship you have with leon, the eight year gap between you two. more so, they dislike leon. they tell you he is not a man of the lord, he is a walking sin. they share their stories of glancing at him during mass and how he’s appearing to hold back laughter, how he doesn’t actually consume the blood and body of christ, how his eyes are filled with something evil. you choose to not believe them as they don’t know leon as you do. “he is nothing like that, sister olivia.” you defend during sunday lunch, biting your tongue. “you have found the devil in a lover.” sister olivia spews with disgust.

her words are a distraction during your date, echoing and bleeding into the grooves of your brain. “sweetheart?” leon calls as he catches your zoned out state. your eyes connect with his, you break yourself out of thought. “i’m sorry, i was just lost in thought.” you apologize, gleaming with a shy smile. the warmth of leon’s hand engulfs yours across the table, the cold silver of your ring turning hot. “i was asking if you would want to go back to my place after this?” leon repeats what you had muffled seconds ago.

“i’ll have to ask my dad first.” you embarrassingly respond as pinks heat your cheeks. there’s limited privacy with leon, daytime stays at his home with an hour max limit and once every two weeks only. your father implemented this as a way to keep a better peace of mind. “c’mon sweetheart, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” leon persuades with sugar on his tongue. the veil of orange from the candles illuminating the table is covering his face, you might just burst from the ethereal beauty he holds. he’s saying something color-coded yet it’s muffled as the tidal wave of his eyes are drowning you. “okay.” you mindlessly respond, leon faintly smirks.

the little skirt you wear is almost halfway off while you and leon makeout on his couch, something you shamelessly leave out during confessions. you keep your hands on his broad shoulders while he dangerously lingers his hands at your hips and thighs. you think you’re seeping through your panties as you feel a wet patch forming, making you feel bothered. “i feel weird.” you pant between a kiss, lungs aflame from the little oxygen you grant yourself. leon pulls away with furrowing eyebrows, “did i do something wrong?”

yet you’re struggling to understand what IS wrong. why do you feel so…wet down there? maybe you started your period but you realize it ended a week ago. leon’s eyes are burning into your skin, the gaze causing you to feel mortified. how can you tell him this? what if he thinks you’re weird? his girlfriend is wetting herself like a damn fool for no reason. “what is it?” that soft tone of his makes you feel even worse. embarrassment is starting to creep itself into the flesh of your body.

“i feel wet.” you say it so clearly and slowly as if you’re dumbing it down for yourself. you don’t know why you feel like this and you don’t know why it’s happening. leon smiles at the frustration you show, clearly not thinking of your situation weirdly. “that’s a good thing, doll.” he coos while holding your hands. head tilting and ditzy eyes searching for an answer, you are clueless by how this is a good thing. “what do you mean, leon?” “you’re turned on, that’s what i mean.” the blood pumping into your heart turns cold at the realization of what you have let yourself done. one of the deadliest sins of all: lust

how can you let yourself get carried away and almost give into something sacred? something you promised to your heavenly father that you will wait till marriage to do? you clutch the rosary wrapped around your neck, “please forgive me. i’m sorry, leon.” you think leon must be feeling the same way too, realizing you both almost gave into sin. oh how awful he must feel, to almost have betrayed the lord and gave into temptation. leon searches your face in hopes to find something you’re not sure of. “why are you apologizing?” he questions, hands no longer embracing your own.

“for getting you caught up in almost sinning.” “it’s not a bad thing to be turned on.” his voice is laced with something unfamiliar, a tone you’re not even aware of. “but it can lead to having sex and we’re not-” “there’s nothing bad about having sex either.” leon interrupts with annoyance. you can’t fathom how he thinks premature sex is not bad, he’s read the bible with you countless times. the purity ring wrapped around your finger symbolizes the commitment you vowed to and he’s reminded every time he holds your hand. “we can’t have sex, leon. you know that.”

“do you not love me?” leon is frowning at you, taking you aback with his words. “i love you, leon. of course i do.” you profusely confess as you get closer to him. the weight of your chest growing heavy while he shakes his head. “you’re supposed to have sex with the one you love right? then why don’t you? if you love me enough, then it’s not sin.” leon preaches with eyes glimmering with something indescribable. “we won’t have sex, we’ll be making love. that’s different. the lord doesn’t view it as sin.”

different strokes of blue are piercing into your soul, almost like his eyes are trapping you. your mind is foggy as you try to think of something to say. “i don’t think...” you trail off with unsure certainty, but what you want to actually say becomes lost in thought as leon’s cherry-bruised lips pull apart in a smile. you think he’s right, it’s something you probably skimmed over. cold hands caress your bare thighs, leon’s lips kiss the skin below your jaw. “you know i’m right, doll.” he mutters while his teeth lightly nip your skin, you grow hot. “i would never lie to such a pretty angel.”

“i’ll make you feel so good.” leon promises with his hands scrunching up your skirt. the sudden action causing your heart to burst within itself. your dry mouth defeats the words wanting to escape, to tell him to not touch there. you’re also battling the urge to let yourself do so as his hands grasp your inner thigh, sending a rush throughout your body. doe eyes noticing the way leon is looking at you as if you’re a sheep, tethered in his sharp teeth, bracing to become a meal.

two fingers rub you over your panties, the new feeling quickly has you inhale sharply. butterflies flutter around in your abdomen. leon hums as his fingers gather your essence that is leaking through the fabric. “there you are, pretty.” leon lays you further down on the couch. his lips kiss you again roughly and you grip at his bicep as his hands quickly discard your skirt. leon impatiently pulls away from your lips to look at the newly found view, lilac panties adorned with a baby blue ribbon. leon’s favorite color.

the wetness from earlier feels as if it’s completely soaking the fabric. you feel utterly exposed like this, so vulnerable in front of leon. “you’re so fucking sexy.” he sighs out once he finally removes the one thing keeping him away from your forbidden fruit. “please leon.” you’re unsure if you’re begging or pleading. the temperature of your body is uncomfortably hot and you’re sure it’s because your soul is already spiraling down to hell. you want to stop leon from inserting his finger into your sopping cunt, but of course you don’t.

“have you ever touched yourself, doll?” leon asks, while fingering you agonizingly slow. you crave for more, not exactly sure of what. you need more of him. you’re heaving at this point, staring into leon’s eyes as he watches you unfold before him, a flower blooming almost too late. “i’m not supposed to.” you choke out the answer while he begins to messily rub your clit. the smirk resting on leon’s lips is haunting you, why does he always look so desirable with that stupid smirk?

“says who? your god?” leon pushes a second finger into your sopping hole, an uncomfortable stretch soon followed by an indescribable pleasure. the erotic sounds of your cunt being touched for the first time reach your hot pink ears. leon curls his fingers against your spongey walls causing you to squirm. the imaginary coil in your lower stomach feels like it’s on the brink of snapping.

“yes.” you moan while he lightly slaps your cunt. “what kind of god deprives his children of a pleasure such as this? don’t you feel good, angel? i know your pussy sure does.” leon smiles at your reaction for his choice of words, you forget how blunt he tends to be. “d-don’t say that.” “your god can’t be all that great if he won’t even let me feel how your pussy squeezes around my fingers.” the blasphemy hits you like a gunshot only temporarily, the pleasure you’re receiving rids it right away.

you’re shaking your head but you don’t know if it’s from the frustration of leon speaking against the lord or if you’re about to reach sweet relief. “leon.” you hiccup, the pleasure becoming too much and your mind is turning into mush. a tight grip on leon’s bicep has him chuckling, looking down at you so pathetically. “you look so fucking stupid. go ahead and cum for me, pretty.” he grants while your cunt is squeezing so tightly around his digits.

back arching off the couch along with the most pornographic moan to ever come out of your chest, the coil snaps. waves of ecstasy crashes within your body, releasing out of your sopping hole. your thighs are shaking to snap close but leon doesn’t let it happen as he gathers your essence up with his fingers. “god, you’re just so fucking perfect.” leon grunts before sticking his own fingers in his mouth, the honey he has been craving falls onto his tongue. you feel yourself get dizzy at the sight.

leon reaches down to give you a messy kiss, tasting your cum on his tongue. “wanna fuck you.” he moans into your mouth, his jeans rub against your cunt and you’re sure your cum smeared onto the denim. you want to stop right here, you want to run straight to church and plead for your life in the confessional booth. however, when leon pulls away to strip off his pants and his fat, long cock hits his abdomen, you feel that indescribable want grow stronger.

your breathing becomes heavy as leon rubs the tip of his cock at your entrance. his cock looks too big for you, fearing he’ll split you open. the taste of bitter metallic hits your tongue and you realize you’re biting your bottom lip too hard. “i’m so lucky.” leon grunts, dragging his thumb across your bleeding lip. “get to be the first to fuck this virgin pussy.” he barely pushes the tip into your tight cunt when you start crying. the pain of slight tearing mixed with the eternal damnation you’re going to face is cutting at your skin. “please.” your vision is blurry through the tears when leon pushes his cock fully into you, you can hear him let out a deep groan.

the way leon’s cock feels inside of you makes you feel so full. the pain of being ripped open for the first time is soon subsided by a mind clouded with desire, yet you’re still crying. leon moves in and out slowly but roughly, hitting a spot within you just right. you moan wearily, salty tears trickling down into your agape mouth. when leon begins to thrust a bit more hard, you’re sobbing out loud moans. leon presses his hand against your throat, “so fucking loud.” he’s snapping his hips into you, his cock bruising the inside of your cunt so sweetly that you feel the coil about to snap again.

“need to shut that mouth of yours next time.” leon grunts, looking at you in a haze. he squeezes your throat as if to test the waters and you choke out a needy moan, your cunt almost suffocating his cock at the action. “such a nasty girl.” leon smirks while picking up the pace of the abuse on your cunt. baby pink nails are scratching at leon’s biceps. you slur out an apology, clearly not in the right headspace to realize that leon is toying with the rosary tangled in your neck. “oh my-” you cut yourself off when leon’s cock repeatedly hits against a spot so sweet, the coil in your stomach feels like it’s tightening.

“say it.” leon taunts. his hand reaches down to messily rub at your clit once more, your eyes flutter shut. you know what he wants and you don’t think you can push yourself further into damnation by saying the lord’s name in vain. “c’mon, doll. tell your god how my cock is making you feel.” leon tightly wraps his fingers around the dainty rosary, you’re pleading at him through your eyes, mouth too occupied by the moans you let out. “leon please.” you cry out, you’re not sure if you’re begging him to stop the blasphemy or to make you cum.

leon soon loses himself in your cunt, grasping at your hips to drill his cock deeper in you. the stars in your eyes are getting brighter, you’re almost there. dirty blonde hair covers leon’s eyes, relieving yourself of the gaze he had on you. “gonna fucking breed you.” leon laps at your neck, biting at your soft skin as if it’s the bread he eats at church. “you want that? want me to fill you up?” you moan out a incoherent yes, too fucked out to understand what he’s even saying. leon captures your lips in a heated kiss, tongues relentlessly clash against each other.

leon’s cock hits that sweet spot one final time before the coil within you finally snaps. “oh my god, leon!” you moan so loudly, throat becoming faintly sore. your body is shaking at the ecstasy that’s somehow stronger than before, nails clawing at leon’s back that you feel like you may draw blood. “there you go, angel.” leon’s words are drowned out by pure euphoria. you feel the warm essence escape out of your cunt but it’s soon mixed with another hot feeling, leon’s own cum. he desperately shoves his cock into you to rid himself of every last drop. you look down to where you two are connected, the lewd sight brings you back down to earth.

if anyone were to rip open your chest to view the way your heart is pounding, almost punching itself out, they’d think you murdered a man. the burden of betrayal is sitting heavy on your shoulders, all the prayers in the world couldn’t save you now. when you look at leon, who is taking in the sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt, the thought begins to become a crimson haze. a string of pearl beads clutched in leon’s fist catches your eye, you look up at him. a blue hue meet yours, the once bright shade now dark. leon lets out a daunting chuckle, “won’t be needing that anymore.”

sprawled out on his palm is a broken chain along with a few pearls and a tiny cross. leon ripped off your rosary.

[dreamersbcll]

Chinese Satellite

instead i look at the sky and feel nothing

1/4 - inspired by this

——————————————————————————

Tara didn’t need anybody’s help. It was just her, the vacant bodies beside her, and an empty echo that made its home in her head. Over and over again. Repeat until death.

She wasn’t always like this. Cynical. Cold. Careful. Withdrawn. There was once a sweet little girl inside her, one who lived and breathed for family, bedtime stories, and sleepovers with her friends.

There wasn’t a particular moment where Tara realized that everything had changed— that everything wasn’t exactly what it seemed. She was a good girl, obedient, even to a fault. All she wanted to do was please her family and be just like her big sister.

Sam was an excellent big sister. She made Tara dinner every night and kissed Tara’s face all over. Nothing was better than the ages of five and ten, innocent to the world around them. Mothers could be good. Fathers could stay. Everything was going to be alright.

But around Tara’s sixth birthday, she suddenly understood and grew a conscience. Her father wasn’t always there, and Mami wasn’t all that nice. She understood why Sam had her listen to music on her iPod at night and why she never spoke to her father until he spoke to her.

The most confusing part was how everything was smoothed over, a rug over a million little toys. The Carpenters never spoke of their irregularities, their lack of proper family. They barely talked to each other in kind language, as the house was divided into three groups: the father, the mother, and the prodigal daughters. Tara didn’t understand why they weren’t the parents she thought she knew. She also didn’t understand why they didn’t talk about it.

Yet the Carpenter family was good at doing one thing together, and that was going to church. They went to church on Sunday, and the girls went to bible study every Wednesday.

There were so many rules. So many hymns. So many confusing messages. Tara was overwhelmed each time she crossed the threshold, her body tensing and her breathing growing ragged.

Somehow, Sam could see Tara’s cowardice and her fears, so her big sister took care of her. The two learned how to talk to God, how to pray, and how to listen for the voice that they yearned to receive.

Together, never alone. Two sets of bony knees hit the wooden floor, two sets of elbows pressed against unforgiving pews. Two heads bowed in unison, and two mouths moved quietly to words they hoped would save them one day.

Soon enough, Tara knows the rules inside and out. She must keep her head bowed and let the stiffness of her body in prayer become a permanent fixture in her body and mind. Eyes averted, preferably closed, but at least turned away from God’s sight. She wasn’t worthy of his glance.

However, it was the last part of prayers she was awful at. No matter how hard she tried, it always ended in numerous Hail Marys and lashings from her mother, all for the sake of correcting Tara’s sinful behavior. God wanted her arms up, hands grazing the heavens, close enough to touch but never meant to be touched.

Tara thought that was ridiculous. She knew better. It was all about making sure God knew that she was raising everything in her life up to God, letting him know that her piggy bank, her teddy bears, and even Sam were all offerings of surrender to God. She raised her hands to God, hoping he would reach down and touch her, even bless her sinful skin.

It didn’t make sense. She can’t touch God.

She’s not sure she would, even if she could.

But she couldn’t deny the hold that religion had on her. The comfort and safety of something that would always be there, even when Tara turned her back on it. Nobody would ever stay with her like religion had, as her father soon left two years later, taking Sam’s heart with him. She soon realized that her mother was never her friend, and she couldn’t depend on her comfort once Sam decided that Tara couldn’t worship her anymore.

Religion would always have her. God would always be there. Or so she thought.

God, to her, was Sam. It was the way Sam smiled at Tara when she did something right. Or how her big sister’s hands could soothe Tara’s worries and fears with the touch of a hand. God shined through Sam and bathed Tara in light and unconditional love. Sam loved her the way God was promised to love her— even though he never could rival her big sister’s love.

And then Sam leaves in the middle of the night, vanishing into the unforgiving darkness she would never be able to fight through.

Tara’s suddenly alone, no one else around her to care for her or love her.

Her Mother tried to reason with Tara, and tried to force her to understand that Sam’s departure was actually a blessing in disguise.

Christina would find Tara in the dead of night, staring out the window to a starless sky, trying to find her light. Her mother would wrap a hand around Tara’s shoulder, nails digging into the skin that she made.

“You don’t need your sister anymore. She is a sinner, and sinners choose their destiny. Do not follow her down the devil’s path. That only leads to pain and destruction,” she whispered, her mouth grazing the edge of Tara’s ear, forcing goosebumps to grow down her body.

“Samantha made her choice, mija. It’s time for you to choose now: God or the Devil. You know what the Devil wants. You know where he lives. Don’t be stupid. Ve con Dios.”

Tara tries to ignore her mother’s relentless demands and efforts to force her down the path she lived. She knows that God isn’t real because why would someone like that strip Sam away from her? Why would God take away someone that Tara believed in more than him?

The answer was clear. God wasn’t there. The Devil wasn’t real.

But damn it to hell, she would be lying if she said she didn’t pray anymore.

God ripped it all from her hands, all her hopes, dreams, and love, and swore it was all gone. She only had him now, and she had to trust in him if she ever wanted to feel loved again. Nobody else would ever love her unconditionally as he did. Tara had to give in. It was all she had left.

God ripped out all she had just to say that he had won.

God won.

But she gave him all.

And it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Religion was futile. It was an echo. Nobody was there. Nobody was going to save her. Why bother? Why pray for her sister to return when Sam left her just like God did?

Yet, Tara still finds herself at the mercy of the book and a chain of heads dangling from her hands.

She knows, and she knows well, where this path leads her. An echo in her head, words falling on ears that were never there. Always the disciple, never the divine. Always the believer, never the chosen.

And yet, she still sank to her knees and lowered her head, signing her fate away to someone who wasn’t listening.

[fatherenoch]

You said at your last confession that you would take your penance. Why do you lie to me, my child, when you know God has eyes where you cannot see? How do I know? God must inform His most faithful to assist in our service. All you had to do was a few simple prayers, but that was just too difficult for you.

Follow me out of this booth and to the altar, and I will give you your penance whether you want it or not. Bend over it. Feel your body prostrated before God, before me. Nobody will see except us. There is no need for your pride.

I don't have something more...usual to deliver your penance with, so I'll just use this bible here. Quite a beautiful one, isn't it, all gilded and illuminated? Every time I hit you with it, cross yourself and Hail Mary. If you forget, I'll hit harder. I want the words of prayer burned into your mind.

There, that wasn't so bad, was it? Again. Pray for me. I know it hurts, that's the point. How are we meant to expel sin without suffering? Again. Ah, you forgot to cross yourself. What a beautiful sound the bible makes hitting against your skin. I think I'll keep hitting this hard. Really make you feel it when you sit, when you stand, when you walk. Every moment for a few days, you will ache and remember your punishment.

And won't you be so much more fulfilled? Again. Don't you want absolution? Again. Isn't easier to just obey me?

[badasseviljasmin]

Rude searon I still hate you bitch you left me in the first place not me bitch and old lizzy aka my bestie don’t want your ass anymore she is with us now. oh also you better not tell my bestie old lizzy crap about me ok fuck off and die, nobody wants you on freaking social media you slut! You ugly fat white bitch girl on earth!! Praying for god that you don’t fucking exist anymore on my prayers god will not watch me just because I’m a damn bitch but god will be watching you on your rude attitude and rude behaviours and I know you go to church during weekend but I bet that you don’t know that god and Jesus are same person, if your catholic you suppose to know Mary, god and Jesus because on my behalf of this crap you should know that baby Jesus had Mary as his mom his freaking mother and you need to know that you have to drink red wine and eat bread and at the table for dinner and I bet that you don’t have a freaking book as a damn bible. And I know so damn well that they have a house farm during Christmas called a beltham. You wouldn’t be a smart ass like me bitch so good luck with that bet you don’t have no brain cells in your damn head because you clearly don’t know anything about freaking religion LoL tought luck bitch 😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣 LoL you white ass bitches 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 😆😆😆😆😆😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

[blatantlyright]

Let Us Pray

___________________________

#kinktober day 2

Tw: #fingering #sneakysex #pinv #unprotectedsex #religiousthemes #floorsex #sexinachurch #dontgetcaught #oral

Steve Harrington x F!reader

I don’t check Kinktober bits for grammar or spelling.

Kinktober day 2

18+ MINORS DNI

Steve realizes you left your messenger bag, full of college text books, on the counter when you were checking out at Family Video. He comes to your church to quickly reunite you with your things. You make it more than worth his while, although he’s not so sure he can ever be forgiven.

____________________

Steve turned the sign to ‘Closed’ and locked the door. The Saturday before Easter was usually pretty busy at Family Video. Parents were determined to share the story of Jesus’ resurrection with their sweet little sheep. Perverts were desperate for something to distract them from the Bible thumpers all over town, parading their purity like a badge of honor. All Steve knew was he needed to hurry home or he’d be eating cold deli meat sandwiches for dinner.

He noticed the taupe messenger bag, still sitting on the floor at the end of the counter. You had forgotten it. You were so wrapped up in telling Steve about going back to college on Monday, about how boring your parents were compared to your friends at school, you even invited him to come see you at DePauw. He remembered how cute you were, covertly flirting, twisting your hair around your finger. While you went on and on about how lame it was that you had to go to mass tonight, he stared at your lips and the way your tongue swept over them when you were choosing your next words. At least he knew where to find you.

The drive to St. Mary’s was just long enough for Steve to chief a cigarette. He told himself he’d rush in, give you your bag, and rush out. Dozens of people filled the pews, heads bowed in prayer. He caught a glimpse of your blouse, he only recognized it because you had it unbuttoned so far he was certain he had seen your areola. You were knelt down next to your father. You could feel someone staring at you, so against your better judgement you turned mid-prayer and your eyes met his.

He gave an awkward, small wave. He held up your bag. You excused yourself to your parents, claiming you had to use the restroom. The last few pews were empty, so you snatched your bag from Steve and pulled him by the hand into a kneeling position in the middle empty row. “What are you doing?”, Steve whispered. “Saving your soul,” you replied, lifting your skirt to show your bare hip. Steve’s eyes widened as it clicked you weren’t wearing underwear.

He looked around the room, then back at your hip, then into your lustful eyes. “Can we go to my car? I know a spot-“ Steve was cut off by the pull of your hand. You placed it upon your thigh, exhaling slowly as he trembled, then gripped your softness. Heat radiated from your core as his fingers lingered closer and closer to your kitty. “Nobody can see us,” you reassured. Shaking, his index finger fumbled to your slit. His jaw dropped and his eyes slammed shut when he felt how wet you were.

“Can we please go get in my car? I’ll make it worth the walk.” Steve hesitated, almost pressing against your bundle of nerves. You sank down against him, grinding yourself toward cumming. He was throbbing against the zipper of his work slacks, pulling at the fabric with his free hand. Precum had already soaked through and he tried to hide it. “You can lie down,” you suggested, tugging at the waistband of his pants.

“Look, babe, I’d love to keep touching you but I don’t think Mary and Jesus and-“you rolled your hips and softly moaned, “God.” He nodded, “exactly.” “God, Steve, I’m gonna cum,” you purred as you felt your guts tense up into a ball. He quickened his pace, switching out his thumb for his finger and sliding up into your sweet spot. A tear trickled down your cheek as you held back your cries of pleasure. Steve bit down on his lip, unbuttoning his pants. The soft wetness of your pussy beckoned him to cum inside.

You let out a tiny squeak as you reached your peak, slowing the rolling of your hips against Steve’s hand. He made one final survey of the room. Everyone still had their heads down. He peeked at the door and caught sight of two women quickly scampering to meet their families in a pew close to the front. His head hit the hard floor with a soft thud. You looked around, checking to see if it gained any unwanted attention. Before you could do anything, Steve pulled you back over his dick.

He thrust up into you, stretching your soft walls to their limit. “Fuck,” you breathed. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you balanced against the kneeler. His hips rose to meet you, anxiously avoiding any sounds of your ass slapping into him. He wanted it, you wanted him as far inside of you as he could go, but you were already taking a giant risk.

You felt a second wave of bliss surging you toward another climax. At the same moment your thighs quivered and you bit your lip to muffle your moans, Steve filled you with spurts of hot cum. You came again, quickly and gently, feeling him throb inside you.

As you both resumed your praying positions, fucked out into oblivion, Steve mumbled “I will definitely be driving to DePauw more often.” You smirked at his confession. You noticed your father had stood, looking around for you. With a small wave, you reassured him you were fine.

Your dad was so impressed by Steve coming to mass with you, he invited him over for dinner after it was over. He accepted, sure his own parents wouldn’t even wonder where he was. “I know what I want for dessert,” he smiled, licking at his damp fingertips.

[eveningalones]

the garden

word count : 1,920

warnings : mentions of homophobia.

If Emily was to compare her life to the bible, she would be able to claim that she was Eve, her faith was Adam, and you, oh you, were the serpent. Sent to the church to taint her, to taint the garden.

You would be called vile and every action you took was one against god. Each and every move you made would cause the downfall of the garden. While Emily believed herself to be Eve, in more than one way, she was the garden; beautiful, peaceful, and so full of love it was sickening to you.

You, even if Emily would protest it, were less like the serpent and more like Adam; young, naive, and willing to do anything to prove yourself to those around you. That mentality put you in the position you were in in the first place. Not wanting to disappoint your mother despite having been away from home since sophomore year of college. She wanted you to find purpose and truly believed you’d find purpose with God, but all you found, and all you’d ever wanted since your arrival was Mother Prentiss. Her charming smile and charisma drew you to her like bees to sunflowers, or more like the Serpent to the garden.

You had only been living in the clergy house for a few weeks, not far off from the main church grounds. If you had believed in the God the priests praise so highly, you’d be able to convince yourself that this really was a punishment like your mother had said. Your mother had convinced herself, as did many other churchgoers, that being gay was a sin. The memory of her cursing you, packing your bags and shipping you off to the church. She knew a few of the clergy members and they set up what your mother called ‘the only way to salvation.’  You begged her to try and understand, to be forgiving and love you for you, but the woman was stubborn and cruel.

‘You’re what?!’ Your mother’s voice raised from the understanding tone that she had before you began spilling your heart out to her.

You took in a shaky breath. You could feel your chest tightening and the tears burning in your eyes. ‘I’m gay mom, a lesbian.’ The words falling from your lips again cause the woman before you to rise from the chair at the table, the feet of the chair scraping your dining room floor. It felt as though your heart was thumping out of your chest. Like every breath you took was made of glass.

That’s when the silent praying began before she sat straight up. ‘Okay, we can fix this–fix you. I’ll call the priest and we can get you set up to figure all of this,’ She waved her hand in your direction. ‘Out. Make it better.’

Hail marys and our fathers or whatever. You were never sure. You never paid much attention when you went to church to know the prayers. Nobody worth paying to, until you’d arrived at the church. At first, you tried so hard to fit in, to abide by the church rules, but then she arrived. Three weeks into your stay you met your first female priest and to say that it was the closest you felt to reaching salvation would be an understatement. Of course, there were women in the church, but none of them could ever compare to Mother Prentiss. Nothing could compare to the feeling you got when you looked at her or when she looked at you. That first time she saw you made you change all your thoughts in the whole religion thing, but it also changed how you went along with being there. You were barely obedient before, not many ‘yes Fathers,’ but eye rolls and scoffs which soon became ‘yes Mother’ or ‘of course, Mother Emily, anything.’ It’s not that you wanted to please her, at least not in the way you were expected to, but you wanted her to notice you. To see you. You just wanted someone in this dull clergy house to really see you.

It was like you had faded into the masses, the same mundane tasks, the same meals every day, and the same fucking faces until Emily arrived. She was so beautiful. The light at the end of this never-ending Catholic tunnel. You knew that she noticed you once or twice in passing always giving you a kind smile or short wave. She was placed three rooms down from you and you made it your mission to get her to see you outside of the clothes the church provided. You knew that Emily would return to the house late after securing the church, so you made sure to wear your shortest shorts and thinnest shirt to grab water in the kitchen, knowing that she’d be returning then. The same night as Sunday mass was when your late nights almost paid off.

You’d been in the cold kitchen for roughly fifteen minutes, having already grabbed a glass of water and now it was just a waiting game. You didn’t want what you were doing to be too obvious, didn’t want her to pull away. The kitchen was dark, dimly lit by the moonlight coming in through the window. Just enough to keep you, or anyone else, from bumping into any of the old wood furniture. You were ready to give up when you heard the door in the main room creaking open. You were grateful for how old the building was, making it so easy to know when people were moving in or out. You moved quickly to the sink, pretending to be filling the cup, back turned to the kitchen entrance.

‘You’re up late.’ You feigned shock and turned around to Emily. Bewildered eyes meeting Emily’s brown ones. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Is everything alright?’ You nodded, trying to ignore how Emily’s eyes raked up and down your body. A slight gasp when she noticed just how thin your tank top was.

‘Um–just couldn’t sleep, needed water.’ Emily moved closer to you, reaching down, pulling out a chair to sit at the dinner table. Never removing her eyes from yours. Something about the way she was staring at you, replaced the cold you felt being in the kitchen, with a warmth. Something all-consuming.

Emily continued searching your face for another emotion, trying to read you for some sadness. ‘Would you like to talk about it?’ You cocked a brow at her, not moving from your spot, leaning on the counter with a cup of water in hand. You’ve yet to drink from it.

You shrugged, placing the cup on the table and taking the seat closest to Emily. It would have been too close if you shifted even in the slightest, but you stayed at a safe distance, putting your elbows on the table and leaning forward, making a conscious effort to make sure if Emily wanted to, she could look directly down your shirt. You could feel that she wanted to but continued to make eye contact glancing down to your lips every so often.

‘I don’t think there’s anything to talk about. This house is just kinda creepy.’ Emily chuckled, leaning back in the chair. An action that should be simple, but your knees touched. Your bare skin touching her clothed knee made every part of your skin feel like it was on fire.

‘It’s old, yes, but hardly creepy,’ You pulled your bottom lip in with your teeth, shifting in your seat, pulling your knee back. A brief moment of disappointment in Emily’s face caused the corner of your mouth to curve up. ‘I always find that when people avoid sleep, something is on their mind. So, what is it?’ You leaned in closer on the table. You wanted her to look, everything in you wanted her to notice what you were trying to do.

‘Do you know why I’m here? Why I was sent here I mean,’ Emily cleared her throat, maintaining her composure. A quick nod, motioning you to continue. ‘My mom called Father Preston to tell him that I needed to be reconnected with God, but it was actually because I’m gay. I spilled it all out to her and she sent me here. No hesitation. Told me that she couldn’t love me if that was the life I choose. So I’m here.’ Emily sighed, eyes still searching for you to break. You knew that’s what she wanted, but you couldn’t give that to her yet. She then placed a hand on your knee, your next breath got stuck in your throat.

‘I am so sorry,’ She spoke your name softly. You never want anyone else to say your name again, this would be enough to satisfy you for life. ‘The church doesn’t hold those views, not here. If she had told Father Preston the exact reason, he never would have allowed it. No one should use the word of God in the way your mother did.’ You scoffed and Emily furrowed his brows in confusion. Her hand moved up your thigh as she shifted forward and you looked up at her giving her a long sigh to hide the noises you were holding in. How was she causing such a reaction from you?

‘I’m not angry about it, being here hasn’t been the worst thing to happen to me. It hasn’t been since you arrived,’ Emily was going to remove her hand, but you went to place yours above hers. ‘You seem different from the other priests. Kinder.’ She smiled at you. You took ahold of her hand on your thigh.

‘Every priest is different. I had a bit of a questionable past compared to the other guys. I think I’ve had more fun than they did.’ Her tone changed from pure concern to more playful. ‘From the looks of it, you like to have fun too. No one in this is house is up past 8:30.’ You laughed, remembering your water and using your other hand to take a sip, intentionally spilling some down your chin. The cold giving you chills as the water trained down your neck and through the valley of your breasts. Emily followed the trail, giving in to the temptation.

‘It depends on the kind of fun you’re talking about, Mother Prentiss.’ Her breathing hitched at the title. You wanted to test the waters by using your hand to slowly move hers up your thigh, over your hip, and lightly brush past the side of your breast. Her breathing became shallow, pupils dilating as she tried to keep her composure, You placed her hand on your cheek, leaning into her touch.

‘I don’t–I don’t think this is appropriate.’ Emily whispered trying to simply convince herself to move away from you. Emily then moved her hand to softly swipe her thumb on your bottom lip, then the top. You slightly opened your mouth as her finger moved, taking her thumb into your mouth and sucking slightly. Then Emily broke, pulling away abruptly, pushing the chair back as she stood. You remained still, looking up at her. Her frantic expression and quick breathing made you smile. ‘I have to go. I can’t–we can’t–have a good night. I’m sorry.’

Emily was quick to get upstairs, you sighed as you watched her go down the hall. You were so close and now you were left wet and on a mission.

[tonysolomon4jc]

[saint-augustines-pears]

First of all, tumblr didn’t ping me for this, so my reply is late; thank you tumblr

And if she's being elevated, it is above Jesus Christ and that makes it an idolatry.

No, it doesn’t. You can have justified respect for someone without worshipping them. I think maybe Mary deserves a little commendation for being the Mother of God?

Are you going to say she prays to Jesus (she asks Him)?

yeah

There is one mediator between man and God and that mediator is Jesus Christ (1 Timothy 2:5). There's a difference between asking a friend to pray for you (who prays on your behalf to Jesus and Him to God) and praying to your friend, who prays to Jesus, who prays to God.

Linguistically, no, there isn’t. To pray literally means to ask. We don’t skip Jesus or God in intercessory prayer. We ask another person to pray on our behalf. If a friend can do it, so can a dead friend, who is more holy and closer to God anyway.

Jesus Christ Himself said, that nobody can go to the Father but through Him (John 14:6). There's no Mary in that equation, it's just us, Jesus Christ and God (through the Holy Spirit).

This doesn’t cut out intercession. Just because another person is involved doesn’t mean Jesus isn’t involved. How could you stipulate that? Mary, the saints and your buddies here on Earth aren’t skipping Christ by praying on your behalf.

To even contradict or pervert that Scripture by adding Mary into that equation, is blasphemous. It's not even biblical to pray to somebody, then they pray to Jesus and in turn Jesus prays to God for us. There's a difference between asking a friend to pray for you (who prays on your behalf to Jesus and Him to God) and praying to your friend, who prays to Jesus, who prays to God.

Again, linguistically, it’s the same thing. You���re misunderstanding intercessory prayer.

The 'ave gratia plena' is consisted of two separate scriptures

Do you mean the fact that we take from different parts of the Bible to put together one prayer? Why would that be a problem?

What is demonic is that in the 'ave gratia plena' Mary is being hailed, with more emphasis put onto her than Jesus (even though it blesses Him once).

To hail is to greet. This is why we used to call the Hail Mary the Angelic Salutation. It’s become more associated with respect nowadays, but it’s exactly that: a greeting. Mary was being hailed (greeted) in the Bible.

That prayer is more about Mary, glorifying her almost as if it's because of her the Saviour came into this world instead of her being chosen as a vessel by God through the Holy Spirit to bring the Saviour into the world.

It’s almost like Mary did something praiseworthy and therefore we praise her for that.

Mary was only blessed amongst the women because she was chosen with that honour,

Yes.

If you're going to her first to ask her to help you instead of going directly to Jesus first, you're most definitely substituting.

If you’ve ever asked a friend to pray for you, you are doing the same thing that we do with Mary.

That's as far as Mary's "intercession" goes, turns out the people didn't even ask her.

So I misremembered part of it, I’m willing to admit my mistake. My point still stands, that Mary went on behalf of others to Christ. She does this in the Bible. So biblically, Mary has a history of helping us out. If she can do it on earth, she can do it in heaven.

The fact that this is your "biblical" basis for praying to Mary is both amusing and sad.

lmao

There are many truths in the Bible (in fact the whole Bible is filled with it)

I know. It’s kinda our book.

yet you state that you're "pretty sure of one truth" is not surprising to me.

I can be certain of one truth while being certain of the other ones.

Yes Peter is the rock on which Jesus built the church; Matthew 16:8 (New Living Translation): "Now I say to you that you are Peter (which means ‘rock’), and upon this rock I will build my church, and all the powers of hell will not conquer it."

Don’t forget the next line where Jesus says that Peter can bind in both heaven and on earth.

That church in the verse is reference to the church as the body of Christ, which are comprised of individuals who believe in Christ Jesus and follow the doctrines in the Bible, not man-made traditions nor doctrines of demons and who are filled with the Holy Spirit. In order to know what is from God and what isn't, you need the Holy Spirit.

Which Church is this? The one that can trace its line back to Peter himself?

Pentecost; Confirmation; Holy Orders; Baptism. If you would like to dispute the biblical reality of a doctrine, please point out a specific one and I will go look at the primary texts and show you the thought process.

Fun fact, the first Christians and church did not originate in Rome nor is it the Catholic Church as y'all claim.

Prove it.

All churches with believers of Jesus (as He is in the Bible) who are filled with the Holy Spirit have that authority (Mark 16:17-18)(John 14:12)(Acts 1:8) not just Peter, the 12, the Catholic Church nor any church which claims to be the sole/first church of Christ.

None of these things say that Christ will build upon them as the foundation of His Church, give them the keys of heaven, or bind and loose both heaven and Earth. Also, I would imagine that the Church that Jesus said would be built upon Peter is the Church.

And you know there has to be a sole church, right? He didn’t say My churches, He said My Church, singular. Unity in belief is pretty important for a singular church.

That same authority which comes from Jesus Christ (Matthew 28:18).

Jesus’s authority isn’t disputed. It’s the authority to teach based on his words that’s in dispute right now.

Yes when somebody has the anointing of God upon them and the Holy Spirit within them to teach then that's all good and well, however the Scripture says not to put your trust in man but Jesus, to test everything against the Word of God as well as to test the spirits (to make sure they're filled with the Holy Spirit of God/of Him).

On the one hand, yeah. Men make mistakes. On the other hand: “And the gates of hell will not prevail against it.”

To do that you need the Holy Spirit's guidance and wisdom, as well as discernment and if you don't have Him nor are you not testing anything, you will end up deceived.

Sure. But it’s pretty bold of you to assume that I immediately accepted everything the Church said as law without a second thought (spoiler: I didn’t)

That being said from somebody who just used to go to church and just take what was said as right because of "God-given authority"; we all (as believers) have that authority which comes with the Holy Spirit

The authority which comes from being a part of the Church which Jesus built upon Peter?

but not everybody who is put in charge was done so by Jesus. He wouldn't put somebody in charge who teaches different doctrines than what is in God's Word.

Yes.

HAIL MARY "We don't worship Mary the mother of Christ Jesus they say, she's not our idol they say, yet they elevate her, pray to her, believe in her more and follow the traditions of man, dogmas not biblical. No we don't worship Mary, no, as they say Hail Mary, the very act of hailing Mary and not realizing they've already given themselves over to doctrines of demons."

[papirouge]

I'm sorry if this has been asked before! But I'm trying to understand Christian denominations. What's the difference between like protestant, Lutheran, evangelical, orthodox, catholic, roman catholic, russian orthodox..etc? Is Mormonism apart of christianity? And why do some denominations not like each other? Ty!

Hun, I'm literally the least person you should ask it because I am myself non denominational and think Christian denominations are pointless and demonic (= in the sense they're divisive and thus weaken the body of Christ)😭

I only know the difference between Catholicism (it's the same as Roman Catholicism, but some add Roman because it's been created by the Roman empire when appropriating Christanism....after oppressing them for decades lmao) and Protestantism.

Basically what's make Catholicism peculiar is that it worships Mary, pray Saints, and acknowledge the Pope as the emissary of God on earth. They also believe in purgatory and have their own holidays (Lent, for example) and traditions that are documented in their Catechism (a whole body of texts written by the funding fathers of the Catholic church aiming to establish the rules of their church)

Protestantism came up as a reaction against the Catholic doctrine because a significant amount of them weren't backed up by the Bible but rather Catechism. The Bible is clear that nobody should add anything to it and make up stuff....and Catholicism relies on a whole of traditions that are at odd with BIBLICAL doctrine....

Beside, the Catholic church reinforced the inacessibily for non cleric people to read the Bible. Which made easier to manipulate them and push doctrines that aren't biblically backed up (Mary worshipping, purgatory, mandatory TITHING/indulgences, etc) which the Catholic church highly enforced when

It was Luther who started that movement, and up to this day, I still don't understand the difference between Protestant and Lutheran 🥴

Mormonism is suuuuuper wicked, hun. Been watching a documentary about it and basically, an American dude called Joseph Smith, after having visions of Jesus telling him every churches were corrupted, said he saw an angel prompting him to go to a location and dig out golden plates.... which became the book of Mormon 💀

Mormonism is really full of crap that is too hard to completely expose the craziness of this cult here, but here's some gems ;

They think that:

- satan was Jesus' brother

- during the war between angels and satan & his followers, those who remained neutral in this conflict got transformed as Black people as a punishment when the angels who fought valiantly against satan got turned into blonde blue eyes White (Mormons) of course lmaoooo (SEE? it's always that good pathological racism in these White American Christian sects💀💀 It's the same thing with the 7 Days Adventists🥴. Bunch of weirdos)

- elohim is a polygamist with dozens of wives, and used a human body to have sex with Mary

- native Americans were the real Israelites

- Jesus had 3 wives with Mary (wouldn't that be incest? 🤔), Martha, and Mary Magdalene, and of whom Joseph Smith is the descendant (of course..)

Here's the Mormon documentary btw:

Skip to 12:55 to peep the animated movie about Mormon mythology Clownery, Enjoy :):):) and beware of brain damage 🥲

[alatismeni-theitsa]

This post is based on my knowledge of traditions of the north and center mainland of Greece. However, I am pretty sure most of those things apply to Greek Orthodox people universally. Needless to say, each village and town can has its own local traditions when it comes to religious occasions.

I am a Greek Orthodox living in Greece, raised into the religion.

I will translate some phrases directly, hoping to give a more “raw” meaning.

If you are not sure you understood about certain information in the post, feel free to ask me on Tumblr!

Google Drive Link for the post in .docx format

Table of Contents

Philosophy.

The Church as a building and as a center of faith.

Chapels and even smaller churches.

The Communion.

Livanisma / Thimiama – Incense burning.

Home Altars.

Clothing.

Komboskini - The prayer rope.

Tama - Votive

Crosses in high places.

Wedding

Baptism

Wedding & Baptism.

Burial customs and honoring the dead.

Agiasmos - Blessing.

Protomaya.

Martis - The protective bracelet of Spring.

Easter Traditions.

Vasilopita on Christmas

Kalanda

Mount Athos

Pilgrimage to Tinos

The Catching of the Cross

More customs

Random Information

1.   Philosophy

Love and Forgiveness are the main pillars of the faith. Some people follow the Bible to the letter, others pick the parts that think reflect our age and most of people keep the general message of the teachings. The Holy Texts are interpreted differently by different people and there can be contradictions in lifestyles and believes. However, the notion that having love and forgiving is what makes you a Christian is widely believed.

Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. - 1 John 4:8

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.- 1 Corinthians 13:4-5

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. - 1 John 4:18

Don’t say ‘I am hated, and that’s why I do not love‘. For this is why you out to love the most. - Ioannis Chrysostomos

“But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you” Luke 6:27

“Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.” -  Luke 6:37    

"Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, 'Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?' Jesus answered, 'I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.' "  -  Matthew 18:21-22

 2. The Church as a building and as a center of faith

Jesus and the Apostles gave us some directions for the worship but most of practices, as well as the architecture of worship came from the Greeks themselves. I jokingly say that Greeks are low key pagans, because religion didn't change the culture. (It did, but only a bit). Christians first worshipped inside the old temples of the Hellenic gods (the Parthenon was once the temple of Virgin Mary) and they built their first churches in that style. The architecture changed with time but it still carries the mark of ancient temples.

Agios Demetrios Thessalonikis

In this link you can view the different styles of architecture for Greek Orthodox Churches. (Link)

In Orthodox churches you don't have to have a feeling of the dominance of God, like in the Catholic or protestant churches, but a feeling of warmth and belonging. In the hall you can buy a candle to light on a display of candles in the hall, to get a blessing for yourself and the soul of anyone you want. Nobody supervises you there.

You can also not pay but I haven't seen anyone not giving money, so far. After that you kiss all the icons displayed in the hall and cross yourself.

As you enter church, men on the left side, women on the right. There is also a special place for women, an interior balcony which is really cool and women go there if they want to. Nowadays man and women can go there.

 3. Chapels and even smaller churches

Chapels serve the same purpose as churches but liturgies rarely happen in them. You can get married in them sometimes.

They can be carved in stone or into a cave - even in a tree or in between multiple trees.

The also exist in big hospitals to bless the patients and invite people to pray for their sick.

They can be seen in some big hotels, too!

But the churches can become even smaller!

Traveling the roads of Greece you will see dollhouse-sized roadside chapels. Some are elaborate little things made of terracotta or even marble, plonked in the middle of nowhere, high up in the mountains; no village or houses for miles, and yet impossibly, most of them are faithfully maintained with a candle always burning inside.

There’s a number of reasons for these heartfelt shrines, some as old as the roads themselves. Placed by the roadside, an initial assumption is that they’re built to remember a victim of a traffic accident victim, and sometimes this is exactly the case. But just as often, shrines will be built by survivors of accidents, thanking a saint at the location of their ordeal.

They can be found in home yards of people who want to come closer to God

4. The Communion

We all take part in Communion with the same spoon. The Communion has bread crumbs in. Even babies drink a tiny bit of the wine (blood of Christ). Traditionally you were "unpure" if you had your period - others believed the blood of Christ would come out of you as period blood if you drunk it, so generally getting the communion during your period is a no for many.

 5. Livanisma / Thimiama – Incense burning

Today, Orthodox Christians use incense throughout the church services. The priest “censes” certain areas at certain parts of the liturgy. The incense is placed inside a device known as a “censor”, which is fairly ornate in appearance and has bells on it so that we not only smell the fragrance, but hear the jingling sound as the priest uses it. This action is meant to remind us that are prayers are rising to the heavens to be heard by God.

Typically in the Orthodox Church, dried incense cones are used. In order to provide the heat needed to allow the cones to burn, a special type of charcoal is used. You also may burn resin, such as Frankincense or Myrrh, directly in an incense burner using charcoal without taking the extra step of mixing it with a binding agent.

Churches often get their incense from special suppliers and maybe even monasteries where the monks or nuns make their own. Typical scents that are used include Frankincense, Myrrh, and Rose.

The believers can also burn incense in their homes and say prayers to ward of Evil.

6.  Home Altars

An Orthodox Christian is expected to pray (to be connected with God) constantly. According to Bishop Kallistos Ware, "In Orthodox spirituality, [there is] no separation between liturgy and private devotion." Thus the house, just like the Temple (church building), is considered to be a consecrated place, and the center of worship in the house is the icon corner.

An icon corner is normally oriented to face east. It is often located in a corner to eliminate worldly distractions and allow prayer to be more concentrated. Here is where the icons that the family owns should be located, normally including at least icons of Christ, the Virgin Mary, and the Patron Saint(s) of the family.

An oil lamp normally hangs in front of the icons. The careful trimming of the lamp to keep it burning at all times is interpreted as symbolic of the attentive daily care faithful Christians should take over their souls. Relics of saints (if the family possesses any) and a Gospel Book and a blessing cross would be kept there, as well as incense, holy water, palms and pussywillow from Palm Sunday, candles from Pascha (Easter), and other sacred items, as well as a personal Commemoration Book (containing the names of family and loved ones, both living and departed, to be remembered in prayer).

7. Clothing

People should enter the church in modest attire. No shorts and no short skirts. Women don’t need to cover their head. In fact, almost no woman under 80 covers her head in church.

With special occasions being the exception, Greek Orthodox Priests wear a black himation because of the fall of Constantinople. They wear it all the time, even to grocery shopping. They have long hair and beard. In rare cases you will see women dressed with a long black cloth - something like a burqa but the whole face is uncovered. They are nuns or devoted to Christ.

 8. Komboskini - The prayer rope

The prayer rope, known in Greek as a κομποσκίνι (komboskini), has long been a powerful weapon for the Orthodox Christian. It has a very simple design, but is filled with meaning. The rope typically comes in one of three lengths, 33 knots, 50 knots, or 100 knots, though there are some in use which are as long as 500 knots. The 33 knots of the shorter rope symbolize the 33 years Christ spent on earth.

It is used in conjunction with the Prayer of the Heart. On each knot is said, "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." This prayer is occasionally shortened to, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me," and other prayers are sometimes said, such as, "God be merciful to me a sinner." Prostrations can also be made with each prayer or after a certain number of prayers. By carrying a prayer rope on us discreetly, we are reminded to “pray without ceasing”.

The prayer rope is attributed to St. Pachomius (4th century). The devil would untie the simple knots he would make to count his prayers. Inspired by a vision from an angel of God, St. Pachomius was able to create a special knot composed of nine interconnected crosses (representing the nine angelic classes), that the devil was unable to untie.

 9.   Tama - Votive

Tama is a form of votive offering or ex-voto used in the Eastern Orthodox Churches, particularly the Greek Orthodox Church. Tamata are usually small metal plaques, which may be of base or precious metal, usually with an embossed image symbolizing the subject of prayer for which the plaque is offered.

The tradition comes from the ancient years, when Greeks offered metal or marble plaques to the gods, often for the cure of an ailment. Eyes may indicate an eye affliction, hands or legs may indicate maladies of the limbs, a pair of wedding crowns may mean a prayer for a happy marriage, etc.

Tama also means Promise. Usually the believers promise something to a saint in exchange for their help on something. My aunt made a tama to the saint Anastasia Farmakolitra ("saves through medicine") to change her name day from the day of the Resurrection to the day of Anastasia Farmakolitra's day if her daughter passed to Pharmaceutical School. Many promise to light big candles (Lambathes) as an offering to the saint or make a donation to their church. Making a lambatha in your height is a standard tama.

 10. Crosses in high places

The Greeks want to feel watched over by the Divine but also leave their mark in the area they live. A way to show their devotion is to place big crosses in hills and mountains which overlook their city, town or village.

In some cases you find those crosses in high, remote places.

Some crosses light up at night!

 11. Wedding 

When the priest says "and the woman should     fear the man" in a wedding, the bride may step on the groom's foot to     show dominance. 

In the bride’s shoe sole her unmarried friends     write their names. The woman whose name fades first will be the first to     marry

The relatives also put money into the shoe of the     bride “so it can fit better“ - but really it’s just a gesture to give     money to the couple

The Crowning is the highlight and focal point of     the Sacrament of Holy matrimony. The priest then takes two wedding crowns     (stefana), and blesses the bride and groom in the name of the Father, and     the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and then places the crowns upon their heads.     The Best Man or Best Woman then interchanges the crowns three times as a     witness to the sealing of the union. People keep their stefana in their     house and even frame them.

12. Baptism

Greeks take their names from their grandparents (since ancient years) and the name is kept a secret until the baptism.

It is a ceremonial moment because prior to the Christening, the individual is not yet part of the church family. In the church hall the priest asks the person to be christened to renounce Satan. If the individual is an infant, the godparent does it for the child. In the next major part of the ceremony, the person being baptized is immersed in the water three times, which is symbolic of Christ’s birth, death, and resurrection. The person is oiled - so they can be blessed and slip from the hands of Satan - and a tuft from their head is cut - to symbolize new beginnings, devotion to Christ and to give Satan less hair to grab them from. If baptized as an infant, after immersion the child is placed in the arms of the godparent with a white sheet, which symbolizes purity. Then, the child receives the sacrament of Chrismation.

The godparent gifts a golden cross to the baptized and, as long as the baptized is young, they buy them shoes for Christmas and an Easter Candle for Easter.

13. Wedding & Baptism

You can do a wedding-baptism to save money. First     the marriage, then the baptism. If the child is about to die before a     baptism gets arranged - God forbid - they get baptized in the air (and not     in water) by a priest.

Koufeta (Sugar Coated Almonds) are mainly served     in weddings but also when wedding and baptism happen in the same day. They     are placed in little bags in odd numbers and are served on a silver tray.     Odd numbers are indivisible, symbolizing how the newlyweds will share     everything and remain undivided. Tradition holds that if an unmarried     woman puts the almonds under her pillow, she'll dream of her future     husband.

After wedding and/or baptism there is - of course     - a feast with hundreds of guests. 

 14. Burial customs and honoring the dead

Pouring wine on the graves during the burial, as an offering or to prevent the dead from coming to life. (I am not sure but that is probably wine blessed in the church).

There is a feast after every mystery. Even funerals.There are more feasts for the dead as time passes. You have to do them in 3 days, 9 days and 40 days. You don't have to do all of them but it's showing respect to the dead and most people do them. 3 and 40 days feast are very important. For the 40 days feast - as for the funeral - there are flyers on the area, which invite people. When 1 year and 3 years pass you go to Church and the priest mentions the name of the dead in the blessings and later comes from the grave to chant.    

During the Sabbath of Souls you have to bring koliva (wheat) to offer to the dead in the family. Supposedly the dead "feed" from them. So it has to be boiled!

Charon is the one who takes souls in our recent tradition.

Graves stones often have sketched pictures or photos of the deceased on them.

15. Agiasmos - Blessing

The start of the New Year in the tradition of the Orthodox Church is marked with the blessing of homes and businesses with Holy Water, or an Agiasmos (literally, to make blessed). This practice commences immediately following the Feast of the Theophany (the annual celebration and remembrance of the Baptism of Jesus Christ – January 6). This blessing is not something done for good luck or to prevent bad luck, but rather a blessing to help strengthen and protect.

The following items are needed for the ceremony:

Small or medium size bowl, filled halfway with     cold tap water

Small twig of fresh basil (floral kind)

Icon displayed behind the bowl

Hand censer, lit and burning incense during the     service

The service is also provided in schools when the new school year starts. This is a particular occasion which can be annoying but also fun for the students because... water shower! Please watch this video (Link). I love it because the priest comes too close to the children - sometimes they want to bless too much - and the kids try to avoid getting wet from head to toe!

 16. Protomaya

May, according to Greek folklore, has two meanings: The good and the bad, rebirth and death. The custom celebrates the final victory of the summer against winter as the victory of the life against death go back at the ancient years and accumulated at the first day of May. This day was also dedicated to the goddess of agriculture Dimitra and her daughter Persephone, who this day emerges from the under world and comes to earth. Her coming to earth from Hades marks the blooming of nature and the birth of summer.

Another ancient celebration that Protomagia has its roots is Anthestiria, a celebration in honor of Dionysos (the Greek God of theater and parties) a festival of souls, plants and flowers, celebrating the rebirth of man and nature.

The custom of May 1st  is to decorate the doors of houses with flower wreaths in a way to welcome the power of nature into our home. The wreath is made ​​from various flowers, handpicked and knitted together. In some parts of Asia Minor, people put on each wreath, except flowers, a garlic for the evil eye, a thorn to protect the house from enemies and an ear for good harvest. The wreaths adorn the doors of the houses until the day of St. John the Harvester (June 24) when all the wreaths of the neighborhood are gathered and burnt in a big fire, the fire of the saint.

See my hashtag #protomaya for more

17. Martis - The protective bracelet of Spring

It’s said it’s an ancient tradition dating back to the cults of Demeter and Persephone. Eleusis was the ancient city where the ancients performed secret rites for the cult. As a form of initiation into the cult, which was one of the Eleusinian Mysteries, the faithful wore a bracelet called a “kroki” around both their right hand and left ankle. Amazingly, the ancient tradition still lives on today in modern Greece. However, there are certain rules that one must abide by when creating and wearing the symbolic bracelet which celebrates the arrival of Spring.

Most importantly, the bracelet must be woven on the last day of February and it must be made of white and red thread. The white thread of the bracelet symbolizes purity while the red represents life and passion.

In ancient times, people believed that the bracelet helped protect the person who was wearing it from diseases, as well as the strong rays of the spring sun during the month of March. Today they say it protects from the strong rays but also the cold of March. Since it’s a transitional month you can burn from the sunrays but you also need wood for your fireplace!

Part of the ancient tradition in Greece calls for the person wearing their red and white “Martis” bracelet to take it off and tie it to the first flowering tree they see in March, in order to yield a healthy harvest and to keep the tree healthy.

Another practice with Martis bracelets occurs when the first swallow of the Spring is sighted. The first person who sees a swallow upon the bird’s return from its winter migration, ties their bracelet around the nearest rose bush to encourage the bird to make its nest there.

 18.  Easter Traditions

Easter is the biggest celebration of the Greek Orthodox tradition. The Holy Week, preceding Easter Sunday, is a time to ponder on Jesus’ Passion and Crucifixion. It is often regarded as an opportunity for body cleansing through fasting, visiting their town of origin and embracing local traditions.

We fast for 40 days (cutting more and more foods every week). Before the fasting we have Tsiknopempti when we eat as much meat as we want, to give our body what it needs before cutting it for 40 days. (It's sort of a celebration and people go out). University restaurants and private restaurants always have fasting options this period. The first day of the fasting is called Clean Monday and it's also like a celebration. It’s the first day we start eating “fasting” food and we also fly kites!

Kyra Sarakosti - Lady Lent

She can be made out of paper or dough. Lady Lent has seven feet. They represent the seven weeks of Lent. Each passing week, on each Saturday, children get to break off one foot. This is a great visual way to countdown the weeks until Easter.

Lady Lent has no mouth. The missing mouth symbolizes fasting. No consumption of meat, dairy products or eggs. She has no ears, this means that she refuses to listen to gossip. Her cross represents the easter religious services in the church, her hands are folded for prayer.  

After the last foot is cut off, it is tradition to place this foot in a bowl with fruits and nuts and whoever finds it receives a special blessing.

You don't have to fast if you don't want to. Fasting from bad thoughts and words is equally - if not more important - than food fasting.

Epitaphios threnos (funerary lamentation) is the name of the matins of Holy Saturday, served in Good Friday evening. Within a liturgical context, this is also the name of an icon, usually made of cloth and richly embroidered, depicting the body of Christ being laid in the grave, often by the Virgin Mary and some disciples.

On Good Friday morning, the icon is placed on a platform, resembling a bier, typically topped with an elaborately carved wood canopy. In most cases, the canopy is heavily decorated with ornate flower arrangements, ribbons and sometimes candles. Young girls (the "virgins") have to adorn it with flowers.

Throughout the day, people can come into the church and venerate it. Kids have to pass under the platform in order to take a blessing.

In the evening the service begins; near the end of the ceremony, the canopied platform bearing the icon is lifted on the shoulders of priests or churchgoers (usually four to six people) and carried through the streets followed by the believers.

In towns with more than one parish, the processions starting from different churches may converge to a single spot (usually the town square), where they temporarily stop and a common hymn is sung before they resume their routes. In large towns, the chants are often performed by a marching band.

The epitaphs in the Central Square of Larissa (Short Video)

These practices have numerous variations according to regional traditions. On the island of Zakynthos in the Ionian, instead of an embroidered cloth, a lamb is used: this is a figure of the dead body of Christ, cut out from board and painted from both sides, placed vertically so that it can be seen from either side of the bier. Another famous custom, the “burning of Judas”, where an effigy of Judas is set aflame on a bonfire, is usually regarded as an Easter Sunday ritual; in some parts of Thrace and Macedonia, however, it takes place on Good Friday, after the procession. In some coastal towns, most notably on the islands of Hydra and Tinos, the men carrying the Epitaphios march right into the sea, until they are at least waist-deep in water, where they may remain for several minutes, often holding the platform high to protect it. During this time, prayers are said for the welfare and safe return of the many seafarers coming from those communities.

Watch footage from the Epitaphios procession in Kaminia, Hydra (Short Video Link)

Τhe flowers used for the adorning of the Epitaphios are considered blessed and women used to put them under their pillow for protection or to dream their future husband, or to put them in talismen for their beloved or use them as medicine, or they put them in the home altar.

On 00:01 on Easter Sunday the priests happily chant "Christ has risen from the dead!" in one of the most known and iconic chants in Greek Orthodoxy. There are fireworks and we kiss each other on the cheek having this exchange: - Christ has risen! - True! This exchange is used by many as a greeting for 40 days after the resurrection. In the Resurrection the priest offers the Holy Light and people go to get it and pass it to their own company or anyone else who asks for it. The candle is held in candles you buy yourself but for children their god parents buy them. With the smoke of this fire you make a cross above your door and you don't clean it up - never. A door can have multiple black crosses above it. With the Holy Light you light up the lamps of your home altar. Some people have breaking eggs contests right after the announcement of the Resurrection, others do them when they come home. We also eat a special soup that night called Magiritsa. It has meat so with this we cut our feast. When the morning comes we host family gatherings and eat as much meat as we want.

19. Vasilopita on Christmas

The Greek word Vasilopita is directly translated as “Sweet Bread of Basil”. When the Vasilopita is prepared, a coin is baked into the ingredients. When the observance begins, usually on New Years Day, the bread is traditionally cut by the senior member of the family, and the individual who receives the portion of the Pita which contains the coin is considered Blessed for the New Year.

Vasilopita is also cut in educational institues and the workplace. Whoever finds the coin usually receives a gift.

This age old tradition commenced in the fourth century, when Saint Basil the Great, who was a bishop, wanted to distribute money to the poor in his Diocese. He wanted to preserve their dignity, so as not to look like charity, he commissioned some women to bake sweetened bread, in which he arranged to place gold coins. Thus the families in cutting the bread to nourish themselves, were pleasantly surprised to find the coins.

20. Kalanda

Caroling (kalanda) has roots in ancient Greece. Children would carry small boats and sing songs honoring Dionysius. In Ancient Greece the children would praise the head of the household. At this time in history they would also gift the head of the household with an olive branch, which signified prosperity. Greek Christmas carols date back to the Byzantine times.

After singing for the household, the children receive money (and sometimes sweets). Before the financial crisis one could gather hundreds of euros from Kalanda.

Children say Kalanda on Christmas Eve, on New Years Eve, on Epiphany Even and Lazaros Sabbath. The songs are different for those four occasions.

21. Mount Athos

Mount Athos is a mountain and peninsula in northeastern Greece and an important centre of Eastern Orthodox monasticism. It is governed as an autonomous polity within the Hellenic Republic. Mount Athos is home to 20 monasteries. It’s commonly referred to as Agion Oros (Άγιον Όρος, 'Holy Mountain').

According to the Athonite tradition, the Virgin Mary was sailing accompanied by St John the Evangelist from Joppa to Cyprus to visit Lazarus. When the ship was blown off course to then-pagan Athos, it was forced to anchor near the port of Klement, close to the present monastery of Iviron. The Virgin walked ashore and, overwhelmed by the wonderful and wild natural beauty of the mountain, she blessed it and asked her Son for it to be her garden. From that moment the mountain was consecrated as the garden of the Mother of God and was out of bounds to all other women.

22. Pilgrimage to Tinos

15 August is a national holiday in Greece and sees a mass departure from the cities to the islands and holiday homes in the mainland. However one island in particular witnesses more activity than most; the island of Tinos. Across Tinos are churches and shrines, the most famous of which is Panagia Evangelistria, the most holy church in Greece which houses the ‘Miraculous Icon of Virgin Mary’. In the Greek Orthodox religion, the Icon is considered to be the protector of all of Greece.

In the Orthodox Church the 15th is ‘Virgin Mary Assumption Day’ where the Virgin is believed to have ascended to heaven. The ritual of travelling to pay homage to such a sacred Icon at this time is highly emotional for Pilgrims, with the Holy Icon in Tinos serving as a main passage between the Virgin and the believers who seek comfort and miracles on their trip.

Often pilgrims crawl to the church from the boats that they arrive on on their hands and knees to show their devotion and pray for compassion, good health and healing. The final part of the pilgrimage often happens in the blazing heat which makes the effort even more momentous.

The atmosphere at and around the Church in the days proceeding the event is sincere and intense. Other pilgrims will arrive at Tinos the night before and sleep in front of the Church to ensure they have the opportunity to see and pray to the Holy Icon.

On the day itself the Holy Icon is carried through the streets of Tinos by members of the Greek army and navy, followed by the Greek Orthodox priests, political figures and the public. The procession leads down to the port when the Icon is stationed on a marble podium and speeches are made. The desire of members of the public to touch the icon often leads to a frenetic atmosphere as pilgrims try to touch the Icon itself. After the procession and speeches the Holy Icon is returned to the Church.

__________________________________________

In the same day Epitaphs of the Virgin Mary are honored and are taken to the streets so everyone can pay their respects. 

23. The Catching of the Cross

On the sixth of January, the Christmas holidays in Greece officially come to an end with the ‘festival of light’ (‘ton foton’ in Greek), also known as Epiphany.

In the Greek Orthodox Church, Epiphany is celebrated as the revelation of Christ as the messiah and second person of the trinity, at his baptism, by John the Baptist, in the River Jordan. 

Another cause for celebration in the Greek Orthodox Church on this day is that Christ’s baptism was only one of two occasions when all three persons of the trinity revealed themselves, at the same time, to humanity:

 God the Father, speaking from the clouds, God the Son, being baptized in the River Jordan, and God the Holy Spirit, revealed as a dove, descending from heaven.

On Epiphany, the Greek Orthodox Church performs

 the ‘Great Blessing of the Waters’.
 This ceremony is usually performed twice, once on the eve of Epiphany which is performed in the church, and then again on the actual day outdoors with priests blessing large bodies of water, sea, rivers, lakes etc.

The tradition is that

 a priest, surrounded by brave young men and boys, throws a cross into the sea, either from the harbour or from a boat at sea; the minute the cross leaves the priest’s hand, the divers jump into the freezing water to catch the cross. The lucky one who finds and returns the cross is blessed by the priest. As the cross is victoriously brought back, the priest releases a white dove, as a symbol of the holy spirit. 
This tradition is carried out to commemorate the baptism of Christ and to bless the waters.

  24. More customs

Each city, town and village is protected by a different saint. When the saint of the area celebrates a fair is organized. There is music, dance and stalls where the peddlers sell their merchandise.

But Greeks know that some of their customs are not approved by the church. We do it anyways and sometimes the priests join, too!

Το celebrate the Epiphany and chase away the evil spirits some residents dress up in scary attire and make a lot of noise with their voice and bells. They drink excessively, they dance and even fight with each other “to the death“ (it’s fake, don’t worry!). This custom exists in many areas of Greece, from Thrace to Cyprus. Even though the people who dress up have many names - momogeroi, babougera, ragoutsia etc - they all symbolize the carefree spirit, childish fun and trickery. Don’t get in their way because they will chase you though the village!

In these festivals there are different characters like the bride, the devil, the cop etc, who can symbolize fertility, the New Year, the Old Year and other concepts.

Sometimes the bride (usually played by a man) is abducted and it’s said to be a remnant of a re-enactment of the abduction of the goddess Persephone by Hades.

In other areas the Dionysiac character of the festival is eccentuated by the presence of a man who pretends ot be the god of wine, vegetation, happiness, Dionysos.

In some areas there is also dancing around a gaitanaki!

In some areas a fake camel (three people under a cloth) is presented on the streets. It probably started as a spectacle for kids but in some cases today it’s a symbol of resilience and patience. It can also remind us of the magi who rode camels to visit baby Jesus.

There is also the story where a Greek woman is abducted by a Turk and three young men pretend to be a camel to enter the Turk’s wedding with her and steal her back! (Something like the Trojan Horse!)

25. Random Information

Namedays are the days when the saint who has your     name died. It's said that you actually take your name from them - even if     it comes from your grandparents the saint is the reason you have it.     In that day you bring treats to your school or work, or you treat your     friends to drinks or coffee. People give you wishes ("enjoy your     name" is the most common) and they call you on the phone to wish if     they are away. The most common name in Greece is Maria and in Maria’s     nameday everybody has to call half of their relatives and friends to wish.     It’s a bit offensive if someone doesn’t remember your nameday or if they     don’t call.

We bring food to the workplace in happy events -     like when your child was accepted into a university.

Lots of people cross themselves when they pass     outside a church.  They could be passing on foot, on the bus, or even     when they drive a motorcycle.

You also cross yourself when you call god for     protection or when you hear something strange (accompanied with "come     Christ and Virgin Mary!")

Making embroidery with the face of Jesus and/or     Virgin Mary is a thing.

40 days after the pregnancy women and their     newborns can     woman can go out of the house but they have to go to Church to be blessed     by a priest first.

We say "Christ!" when a person is     chocked and "Small healths!" when someone is sneezing.     When a baby is yawning bad spirits could come in so we cross their mouth.     We also give them eye bendants so the Evil Eye won't get to them. People     spit (just saying "ftou ftou ftou") the child after saying good     words for them so they can protect them from others who will flatter them     with malice. The Evil Eye is recognised by the Church. See more in my #mati     tag.

Bell ringing every day before the morning and     evening liturgy. It also chimes every hour. On Good Friday it rings solemnly all day.

Priests are considered spiritual leaders by many     in the sense they can listen to you and guide you like a psychologist. "My spiritual" people     call them.

You don't have to have your mind unguarded,     that's why Greek orthodoxy is against yoga which teaches the emptying of     mind 

Mondays and Wednesdays of all year are for     fasting - just meaning you don't eat meat. Some people also fast sexually on those days.

Hatzis- (from middle eastern "hajj") is     for people visiting the holy land (Israel) on pilgrimage.

The icons of saints you buy have to be blessed by     the Church before you hang them, so they can offer you a connection to the     divine.

Every day at school children gather in the yard     and one child says the Lord’s Prayer

We don't know the hymns by heart. They are too     many and long. But there are books you can read and older people (usually     women) usually study them.

All the saints in hagiographies look kinda     malnourished because they are supposed to avoid the earthly     pleasures. 

We give epithets to the saints according to their     characteristics - like we did with our ancient gods.

Lots of saints probably “covered” the dominions of older deities because Greeks were used to having smaller powerful entities for different stuff (there is even a saint who helps you find stuff if you dedicate a pie to the church)

We have a set of explanations for dreams (Ονειροκρίτης). For example, if you see something very good in your sleep about a person, misfortune will find them. If you see them dying, they will live for many years.

We read the future in the bottom of the cup of Greek coffee.

From the Byzantine era and today people buy holy wood - from the cross of Christ they say - and bones of saints. In the old time those were also used for witchcraft.If you are born on a Saturday you     don't see creatures or ghosts. Also people born on Saturday are lucky and     whatever they wish comes true.

Dick festivals are a thing in some areas and they mostly happen on Greek Carnival. Traditional sex songs with dances are also a     thing.

Virgin Mary is the mother of Greece, and you see her as a mermaid even. We are pretty chill with our divine figures - we use them in swearing a lot, too.

Many people cross themselves before and after     eating.

We take oil blessed from the Church and we put it     in the lamps of our home altars. We also anoint people who want to keep     safe with it. (My grandma made a cross in my forehead, for example). Many     take it home the myrrh produced by the bodies of saints.

We place a bone of a saint on the ground where a     church is going to be built.

Sometimes we call a priest to bless our new     vehicle!

Also, it’s not a very safe practice but a lot of people hand crosses and icons from their front mirror.

Notice that the #mati is also there!

[more-quiverfull-sims]

Local Woman Gives Birth to Baby #15...Just in Time for Son’s Wedding

Elsa Bjergsen, Reporter

Windenburg Times-Gazette

You could say local parents Stetson and Ingrid Gorman, 47 and 41 respectively, have a lot on their plates. The pair have fifteen children, the youngest of whom was born just two weeks before his oldest brother’s wedding.

Ingrid with baby #15, Peyton Prosperity. 

The Gorman family, in age order: Stetson Gorman (47), Ingrid Gorman (41), Ezekiel Luther Gorman (21), Josiah Thomas Gorman (19), Hope Geraldine Gorman (18), Isaiah Stetson Gorman (16), Katlynn Marie Gorman (15), John Brice Gorman (13), Camden Gorman (11), Evangeline Gorman (11), Helen Praise Gorman (9), Patience Grace Gorman (8), Landyn Gorman (6), Rylee Michelle Gorman (4), Tobias Bob Gorman (3), James Jeremiah Gorman (2), Peyton Prosperity Gorman (5 months). Ingrid is about eight weeks along with baby boy Gorman (#16), who they plan to name Andrew Christian. 

The Gorman family after baby #15. Eagle-eyed viewers might notice that Ingrid Gorman is expecting #16!

“My doctor is amazed that I’m expecting again,” said Ingrid during an interview in her Windenburg home. “Once I have this sweet blessing--we’re going to call him Andrew Christian--I’ll have only three days until I age up and become an elder. I may have a chance of one additional pregnancy. We’re praying on it!”

Many local residents have already heard of this fecund family. Ingrid is the daughter of Baptist preacher Luther Snyder and his wife, Katlyn. Luther passed away two years ago, and his wife died a few months later, but they have left quite a legacy in their wake.

The Snyder family 15 years ago, with children Rowan (then 14), Leah (then 11), Brenna (then 7), MacKenna (age 4), and Noah (age 3). At this point, Ingrid was 26 and pregnant with her fourth child. Thaddeus (24) and Nathaniel (22) had already married, and twins Elias and Kason (both 18), had recently moved out to start a business. Luther and Katlyn were 50 and 44, respectively. They married when Katlyn was 18. The pair experienced several miscarriages during their longer gaps between children. 

There’s his firstborn son, Thaddeus, 40, who took over his job as a pastor at Bible Baptist Church. Thaddeus’ wife Chelsie, 38, is currently pregnant with twin boys--their seventh and eighth children.

Left to right: Thaddeus Snyder, Chelsie Snyder, Rose Snyder, Lizzie Snyder, Janet Snyder. Second row: Beth Snyder, Allyson Snyder, Samson Snyder

Then there’s Nathaniel Snyder and his wife Ruthie Park-Snyder, who have three children. Nathaniel is the head of general surgery and Windenburg Hospital, and Ruthie is well-known for her career as an an astronaut. They have three children.

Nathaniel and Ruthie’s family: Nathaniel, Ruthie, Amelia, William, and Maisie.

Luther and Katlyn also share seven more children, five of whom are married, but nobody’s brood even approaches Ingrid’s.

“I knew from a young age that I wanted to be a homemaker and homeschool my children,” Ingrid noted as she played with her children at the Gorman family home. “I feel that this is a woman’s greatest calling, and the ability to have children is a blessing from God. My husband and I would never do anything to prevent that!” 

A Gorman family photo. Daughter Helen Praise is wearing a “swim dress” to comply with the family’s modesty rules. 

Allowing their daughter, Evangeline, to join the Scouts with two of their brothers was a huge step for the couple. The couple agreed after learning that Terrence Moore, father of Emily Moore Gorman, led a local Scout troop consistent with their values--even though the girls wear shorts!

Landyn Gorman, 8, Evangeline Gorman, 11, and Camden Gorman, 11, in a recent photo. 

Ingrid’s oldest child, Ezekiel Gorman, 21, just married Emily Anne Moore, 20. All of Gorman’s siblings were in attendance, and surely appreciated the chance to socialize with other families that share their values. The wedding took place at the Bible Baptist Church in Windenburg, where Luther was originally pastor. 

From left to right: Patience Grace Gorman (8), Emily Anne More (20), Ezekiel Gorman (21), Rylee Michelle Gorman (4).

“Courting is definitely unusual nowadays,” said Hope Geraldine Gorman, Stetson and Ingrid’s oldest daughter, who just turned eighteen. “But our parents have raised us with it, because it provides protection for a young person’s heart. It guards their heart until they are ready for marriage.” 

“The whole point is physical and emotional purity,” chimed in Katlynn Gorman, age 15, named (with an extra n) for her grandmother. “We don’t want to give away pieces of ourselves before we reach the altar, because then we are not giving our spouse everything. That’s why we don’t kiss before marriage.” 

From left to right: Katlynn Gorman (15), Helen Praise Gorman (9), Hope Geraldine Gorman (18).

The Gormans discourage their children from even holding hands until engagement, and all dates up until marriage must be closely supervised by family members. There are also strict modesty rules for both boys and girls.

“Well, we always have our knees covered, and our bellies and most other parts besides hands and feet and neck and head,” explained one-half of the Gorman’s only set of twins, Evangeline Gorman, 11. “Sometimes knees and parts of arms can show for special occasions we check with Mama and Dad.”

From left to right: Rylee Michelle Gorman (4), Camden Gorman (11), and Evangeline Gorman (11).

“That includes boys,” explains Evangeline’s twin brother, Camden. “Mama prefers for us not to wear jeans and to keep our hair neat and short. It’s about respect for ourselves and others.” 

“If we cause lust in others, that is a sin on our part,” remarked Katlynn. “We don’t want to stir up desires and cause our fellow Christians to stumble. That’s why we dressed modestly and court.” 

A (supervised) courtship date between Ezekiel and his new bride, Emily. In lieu of physical contact, the lovebirds exchanged gifts.

“My oldest children have always been a fantastic example for the younger ones. It’s the way we keep this house running, especially homeschool,” Ingrid explains during our interview. “I couldn’t do anything without them, especially my oldest girls Hope and Katlynn. I was the oldest girl in my family, and I learned so many lessons about being a good wife and mother. I pray my girls are doing the same--my greatest joy is to see them living for righteousness.

While Stetson and Ingrid are confident in their choices, not all Windenburg residents are supportive. 

“I knew Luther Snyder, and he was a very prejudiced man,” remarked local resident Lucas Munch. “And his poor eldest daughter was raising those children.”

Another local, Luna Villareal, raised similar concerns. “This lifestyle seems extreme,” she noted. “And I doubt those children all get the individual attention they need.” 

Still, the Gorman family is joyful.

“We are so thrilled to see our family growing and eagerly anticipating a new season of life as grandparents,” Stetson remarked during our final interview in the kitchen of their new home, which they bought shortly after the birth of their fifteenth baby. “We are confident that our lifestyle is righteous in the eyes of the Lord, and that’s all that matters to us.”

***

Catch up with us next week for a peek into the Gorman family’s new home!

[morrisondauthor]

“A Righteous Burden”

           The date July 22, 2009 is a date that I will never forget. It was a cloudy Wednesday afternoon and while I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to Pastor Ballard’s Bible study, I was excited about choir rehearsal because our choir director Mr. Hankinson had agreed to play a song that I composed myself. I’d been trying to get him to use one of my compositions since I began writing music. I wasn’t much of a gospel lyricist so Mr. Hankinson wrote words for the music, and they were amazing. I couldn’t wait to sing the song with the choir for the first time and I really couldn’t wait to sing it for the church that following Sunday. However, it wasn’t my music that made July 22, 2009 memorable. It turned out to be the day I experienced a miracle.

           “You’re not gonna change my mind,” Kareem said to me while putting on his Jordans. “I’m done with school, Ant.”

           “Why now?” I asked while looking at myself in the mirror to make sure my tie was on right. “Baby, why would you drop out of school right before our senior year?”

           “Because it’s pointless. I’m not goin’ to college or doin’ anything important so I don’t see why I should waste my time.”

           “So, being at school with me is a waste of your time?”

           “That ain’t what I meant and you know it. Anthony, I’m just done with that shit. I’m done with it. I’m a grown ass man. Fuck…I mean, forget school. I got other stuff I need to be worried about.”

           Kareem Taylor had been my boyfriend for a little over a year but we’d known each other since elementary school. He was my best friend up until sixth grade, which was when he began picking on me and hanging out with the bad boys at school. I later figured out he picked on me because he liked me and even though I liked him, too, neither of us built up the nerve to do anything about it until the end of our tenth-grade year. I wrote him a letter basically telling him that I wanted us to be boyfriends. He came to my house after school that day and gave me my first kiss. And just like that, we were together.

           “You mean like running the streets with Taz and your other wannabe gangster friends?” I asked him. “Is that the other stuff, Kareem?” When he looked away from me and shook his head, I reminded him, “None of your homeboys had your back when you got arrested last October. I had to beg my mama to bail you out.”

                                        Me (Anthony Tibbs)

           “You’re just gonna keep hittin’ me with that, huh?”

           “Yes, I am!”

           “Why are you yellin’ at me? I didn’t raise my voice at you so why are you doin’ it to me?”

           “Because I’m tired of you making the wrong decisions! It’s like I don’t even matter to you sometimes.”

           “Okay, you’re trippin’. When have I ever treated you like you don’t matter? You’re the one yellin’ at me and shit. We were just all cuddled up and kissin’ a lil’ while ago and now you’re sweatin’ me. Is this because we keep our thing on the low or somethin’?”

           “That has nothing to do with what I’m upset about. I’m upset because you would rather drop out of school and play wannabe gangster than finish your education and rise above that mess. After what happened to Ahmad…”

           “I’m not tryin’ to have this conversation right now.” He picked his cell phone up from my nightstand and put it in his pocket.

           I stood in my doorway to block him and said, “Kareem, if you love me then you’ll sit down and listen to what I have to say.”

           He stared at me for a while without saying anything and then let out a loud exhale before sitting down on my bed and saying, “I love you so I guess I don’t have a choice.”

                                               Kareem Taylor

           I sat down beside him and continued, “After Ahmad’s death, I feel like I lost a part of you. We could be watching TV together or eating or cuddling and sometimes it feels like I’m only with half of you. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a sibling because I’m an only child and I don’t want to make you upset, but I wish you would talk to me about what you’re feeling.”

           Kareem’s older brother Ahmad was murdered after he tried to stop some gang members from killing his best friend. The incident happened just two blocks away from my house and I was the person who broke the news to Kareem that night. We’d only been in our relationship for about a month when it happened. It was the first time I’d ever seen Kareem cry and I felt his pain the moment he felt it. I was there for him and I did my best to help him get through it but I knew my best wasn’t good enough. Ahmad took care of Kareem because their mother had a drug addiction and wasn’t home consistently. I always felt that Kareem lost himself when he lost his brother and it broke my heart.

           “What do you want me to say?” he asked me after a lengthy silence. “I miss my brother every second that goes by. I don’t like bringin’ him up because I don’t wanna bring you down.”

           “It won’t bring me down, Kareem.” I grabbed his hand before asking, “Do you ever cry when you’re not with me?”

           He got a little choked up as he answered, “Sometimes. The worst moments are when I hear his voice in my head and I’ll forget for just a moment that he’s gone. I cried so much that I threw up the last time that happened.”

           Tears began to build in my eyes as I squeezed on his hand and told him, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

           “It’s like I understand that he’s gone forever but I still expect him to come home for some reason. I feel like he’s still out there.” A tear forced its way down the left side of his face as he continued, “It wasn’t his time. I can’t see it any other way. He stayed out of trouble. He went to school and got his license to be a barber. You can’t convince me that it was his time to go.”

           I managed to keep myself together as I put my arm around him and told him, “I pray for Ahmad every time I think about him. And I pray for you, baby.”

           “I know you believe in that but…it doesn’t do anything for me. It won’t bring him back. I’m not sayin’ that to put down your beliefs. It’s how I feel.”

           “I know. But baby, you have to understand that life goes on. That’s why I pray for Ahmad.”

           He looked at me and said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

           “When we die, I believe our existence lives on in everything we ever saw, experienced, touched and loved. Your brother may not be here physically but he does still exist because you knew him your whole life and you’re here. You’re a direct witness to his existence and so am I. His friends knew him and they’re here. All of the people who knew him through the barbershop are still here. He has crossed over and I pray for him because it’s my way of letting him know I witnessed him while he was here physically and that I continue to witness his existence through you. Baby, I pray that he is at peace.”

           “I appreciate that but I don’t see it that way. The way I see it is three Lafayette Street niggas killed my brother and his best friend over some bullshit and today is the beginning.”

           “The beginning of what?”

           He wiped his eyes and replied, “Don’t even worry about it.”

           “Kareem, I know you’re not thinking about joining a gang, are you? Your brother wouldn’t want that. He was against violence and drug dealing!”

           “I ain’t him and I never will be.”

           “You can’t do this.”

           “I don’t have much of a choice. Nobody wants to speak up and tell the cops who did it. You said all those people who got their haircuts from my brother witnessed him, right? Well, I bet some of them know who killed him and they ain’t sayin’ shit.”

           “Kareem…”

           “No, Anthony. I’m doin’ this. Taz is already in OBF and so are a lot of the other niggas we’ve been hangin’ around. After I get jumped in today, I’ll be OBF, too.”

           “And what about us? Huh? Do you think I’m gonna be with you if you’re out robbing and killing people?”

           More tears filled his eyes and rolled down his face as he asked me calmly, “You’re gonna dump me?”

           “If you let those boys jump you and you call yourself a member of that gang, yes, I will be done with you.”

           “You just said you pray for me.”

           “I do and I always will but I don’t have to be with you to pray for your soul. I mean it, Kareem. I love you but I will not tolerate you being in a gang. Now, I am going to church for Bible study and choir rehearsal. First Lady Mary Louise Ballard will be serving dinner at seven-thirty. If you love me and you want to be with me, you’ll be at the church tonight for that dinner. If you’re not there…then I guess this will be last time I ever talk to you.”

           He continued to stare at me for a while and after wiping his tears away, he stood up and tried to hug me but I wouldn’t hug him. He quickly kissed two of his fingers and gently put them to my lips and then left my bedroom. I waited until I heard the front door to my house open and close before I allowed myself to cry. It took me a little while to pull myself back together but I did pull myself back together and I made it to Bible study on time. However, my mood was ruined by the time choir rehearsal began. All I could think about was Kareem. I just knew Mr. Hankinson was going to notice how off I was.

           “Anthony Tibbs,” he called out as he stopped playing the piano. “Are you purposely singing flat? Because if so, I’m going to need you to not do that.”

           “I’m sorry, sir,” I said.

           “This is your music, young man. You better sing to it the right way.” He looked at his watch and then told us, “It’s time for a break.”

           I stepped down from the choir platform and made my way over to him and asked quietly, “Can I ask you something personal, Mr. Hankinson?”

           “You know you can, child. You’re the only person who can talk to me about personal stuff.”

           “When you and Mr. Leverett have arguments, how do you work it out?”

           His eyes widened and a smile formed on his face as he asked me, “You and that boy had an argument? Aw, that’s so cute.”

           “It’s anything but cute.”

           “Child, all you can do is pray and hope that the Lord will pave a way. A lot of the hypocritical folk that attend this church will tell you that you shouldn’t have a boyfriend in the first place.” He laughed a little but got serious and asked me, “What did you argue about?”

           “He wants to do something very stupid and dangerous and I told him if he does it then we’re over. I shouldn’t have told him that, huh?”

           “No, you did the right thing. Anthony, you are young. You still have a year of high school left. You’re smart and you can sing your behind off. I’m not gonna tell you that you’re too young to be in love because that would be bad advice. But I can tell you that if he’s the one then he’ll realize he’s the one and he won’t do that stupid and dangerous thing you argued with him about.” He gave me a look and then asked, “Have you and him been…you know…active?”

           I blushed and told him, “We have and we’re safe.”

           “Good. Because I did not want to have to give you the talk after we leave here.”

           “So, you’re not going to lecture me anyway?”

           “Nope. As long as you respect yourself and he respects you, then I’m good. Just make sure you pray to the Lord for forgiveness.”

           “Wow, I would’ve thought you’d be the last person to say something like that.”

           “Not because you’re gay, child. Ask for forgiveness for having premarital sex. Don’t think just because it’s not legalized yet for our kind that it’s not a sin. Besides, it’s gonna be legal everywhere soon enough if Obama gets a second term.”

           I laughed and said, “Thank you, Mr. Hankinson.”

           “Mmm hmm, child. Now go ahead and work on that voice so we can get this rehearsal together.”

           “Yes, sir.”

           I loved that I could talk to Mr. Hankinson about being gay. Just like many other black churches in America, most attendees ignored the fact that their church had a gay choir director. Besides my mama and my grandma, Mr. Hankinson was the only person who knew about my relationship with Kareem. I learned a lot from him and his partner, Mr. Leverett. I was never ashamed of being gay but I was a little worried about how Christians viewed homosexuality until I had discussions with Mr. Hankinson and Mr. Leverett. They helped me understand the importance of following the actual teachings of Jesus and that no man’s word or judgment would ever overpower the word and judgment of God.

           While I was still worried about Kareem, I let what Mr. Hankinson said to me that day comfort me. I sang my song with the choir and then we rehearsed a few more songs before calling it a night and heading to the church’s reception hall to eat dinner. I made my plate and while pouring some sweet tea into one of the cups filled with ice on the table, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and when I saw it was a text message from Kareem, I took a moment to take in a deep breath and then exhaled. I opened the text and when I saw he wanted me to come outside, I ran out of there as fast as I could. And there he was standing at the bottom of the church steps. Judging by the fact that he didn’t have any bruises and was wearing the same clothes he’d had on at my house, I knew he hadn’t joined the gang.

           “I met up with Taz,” he said as he looked up the steps at me. “I started walkin’ with him towards the spot and…I saw this boy and his little brother over in the park. The little brother had scraped his knee and the big brother gave him a hug to keep him from cryin’. He didn’t tell him to toughen up and he didn’t yell at him. He gave him a hug. I swear it was like I was lookin’ at me and Ahmad. I just…” He got choked up but managed to continue, “I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t do it, baby.”

           “See, I told you, baby,” I said as I descended the steps. “Ahmad is still with you. He always will be.” I made it to him down on the sidewalk and hugged him. After a while, I pulled back and told him, “I love you, Kareem.”

           “I love you, too. Thank you, baby. I thought about everything you said to me earlier and you’re right. I can’t let my brother down because he never let me down. He wanted me to do somethin’ with my life like he was tryin’ to do, so I gotta do better. But baby, there’s somethin’ I still need to know.”

           “What is it?”

           He got choked up again as tears filled his eyes. He cleared his throat and then asked, “Are you gonna be here for me when I need you?”

           “Kareem, no matter what happens between us, I will always be here for you. I promise.” I hugged him again. After I wiped his tears away, I asked him, “Are you hungry?”

           He smiled and replied, “I’m very hungry.”

           “Well, let’s go inside so we can fix that. The First Lady cooked some chicken and rice and gravy…” I began walking back up the steps and he followed me.

           Looking back, that day truly was the turning point in our relationship. We were already close but we became closer that day. When that summer ended, we started our final year of high school. I talked him into talking to one of the counselors at the local free clinic and she was able to help him better deal with the trauma of losing his only brother to violence. He attended my church every Sunday and even sometimes on Bible study Wednesday. The more time we spent together each day, the more people caught on that we were more than friends. He lost a lot of his friends but he gained more by befriending the many people I was connected to. We graduated and moved down to Atlanta where I attended Georgia State University and he attended Atlanta Technical College while also working part-time in construction.

           It’s been ten years since that day and he and I have been married since 2015. We have a small but beautiful home in a decent Decatur neighborhood and even though I’m still paying on my student loan debt, we’re doing great financially. I’m an accountant for several small businesses, including Kareem’s growing construction business. He currently has twenty-five employees—twelve who are ex-convicts who needed employment—working for him. We have plans to one day buy a bigger house and adopt a kid or two but for now, we’re still enjoying each other like we did when we were teens.

           I wake up every morning thanking God for blessing me with the love of my life. And every day, no matter how hectic that day may be, I say a prayer for my husband and for his brother. Ahmad didn’t get to see how his love saved his little brother, but I let him know through my prayers that it wasn’t his burden anymore to look out for Kareem. He could rest easy knowing that the time he did spend on this earth was just enough for him to do what he was put here to do: take care of his baby brother and show him the power of unconditional love.

[Disclaimer]: Pictures used do not reflect the sexuality or personality of people in the pictures. They only serve as visual examples of the characters.

© D.A. Morrison 2019

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Fifty-Two

Wattpad

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning(s): explicit language, drug abuse, violence, sexual situations

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"Ah!" I squeal with a small giggle laced through it, Nikki's lips pressing to my shoulder while he pulls out of me and his cum spills on the inside of my thighs that are wide open.

My leg's hooked over his hip as he lays behind me with his arm snaking around my waist, between my breasts, while his hand has a solid hold on my throat.

When he's done, he's pressing one last kiss to my cheek before rolling over on his back, reaching for something on his night table.

I shift to my back, staring up at the mirrored ceiling to see him holding something out to me.

I turn my head to look at him just as he's taking my hand and sliding my wedding ring back on, pressing a little kiss to my hand before grabbing at my jaw assertively, kissing me.

"Apology accepted." I say once he pulls away.

"Yeah, ditto." He chuckles, kissing me one last time before I'm giving out a content sigh and sitting up to go shower.

Once I get out, I dry off and wrap myself in a towel, brushing through my wet hair with my fingers as I step into our bedroom to get some lotion on and get dressed.

"Wait, wait." Nikki stops me as I squeeze lotion onto my hand and I look up at him and raise my brows, seeing him grab his camera from the drawer in the nightstand. "Okay, drop the towel and oil up nice: I'm gonna need something to keep me company while I'm in the studio for countless hours the next several weeks."

I roll my eyes and hold back a smile, throwing my towel at him and it hits him in the face.

"Woo!" He cheers, tossing the towel away and I cover my chest just as the flash goes off and I shake my head a little, ignoring him collecting the dispensed Polaroid as I start putting my moisturizer on.

When I'm finished, I'm pulling on sweat pants and hooking my bra, about to pull a tank top on.

"Hey, Viv?" Nikki asks me.

"Yeah, babe?"

"Is the Lord's prayer important?"

I furrow my brows, finding it odd that's he's asking.

"Well, it's the template Jesus gave Christians to use when praying so yes, it's very important." I reply and he nods a little.

"So...like...what is the prayer, exactly?"

I drop the tank-top in my hands, my eyes widen, and I look at him like he's lost his mind.

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Nikki Sixx?"

"Ha, ha." He sarcastically lets out.

"No, seriously, either you're a clone, had a bad dose of drugs, or your body is officially done with and dying and God's jabbing at you to throw one last 'hail Mary' attempt at salvation before you croak."

"No, I just wanna know what I need to say when I pray to you." He replies with a smirk and I pretend to nearly trip and fall on the floor as if it's slippery.

"Woah, woah, woah, you gotta give me a warning before you say something so slick." I tell him, grinning and he pulls me onto him, laughing. "And to answer your question, it's 'Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen'." I finish, deciding he wasn't even listening, but I have a weird feeling he's taking notes. "Seriously, though, why're you asking?" I add, my fingers fiddling with the various necklaces hanging around his neck.

A devious, childish, sneaky little tug of his lips his highlighting the "up to no good" look in his hazel eyes as his pointer finger traces the crucifix around my neck before meeting my gaze.

"Just curious."

Just a dumbass.

I finish dressing before stepping out to check the mail.

When I come back, I realize there's a handwritten note pinned to the door.

It's signed by our accountant and I roll my jaw.

It was $2,500.00 last May, which means he's been going through $5,000.00 a day.

"Uh, Nikki?!" I call coming into the house with the mail and the letter, going to our bedroom where he's plucking at his bass, waving the letter.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"Sixx 1 & 2,

Sixx 1 is still spending exponential amounts of money on heroin a day. I left a warning last May, and said Nikki will either be dead or the two of you will be completely broke by May this year. That still stands because the amount being spent has doubled since then. Slow down." I read it off. "Nikki, it was $2,500.00 last time so he's saying you're currently spending $5,000.00 a day on smack?!" I raise my voice. "How the hell can someone possibly do that much heroin--or any freaking drug--in one day?!"

"Viv--"

"--That's $1.6 million a year! Did we even make that much last year!" I scream.

"We? Vivian, you've never worked a day in your fucking life. There is no 'we made', it's what I made. And because I'm the one who made the money, I can do whatever the hell I want with it so just hop off."

"Nikki, baby, we have bills, and insurance didn't cover as much on my time in the hospital and follow-ups as we had hoped so we have to spend money on necessities and not..." I trail off, calming myself down, rubbing my forehead, trying not to start crying.

"Viv, I'll handle it." He tells me after a moment of quiet between us. "Alright?"

I rub my lips together, letting out a sigh as he holds his hand out to take the stack of bills from me.

I hand them over, not saying a word more, before leaving him to continue scraping up motivation to actually write something.

He wrote "Wild Side", which completely reworks and assaults the Lord's prayer...then the bastard listed me as a co-write because, "well you told me what the prayer was to begin with so technically you helped me write it."

When the conservatives went digging around once the album was released, they dragged me through the mud when they saw my name attached to a bastardized version of something sacred to christianity and I heard every degrading, yet passive, insult any holier-than-thou Bible-biddy could throw at me.

I stopped going to church for quite a while after that because I didn't even want to face the possibility of all those people smiling in my face while thinking, "she's not the really for God."

"Valentine's Day?" I ask Doc, raising my brows. "...Really?"

"Well, they wanna get a good feel of Nikki and you're obviously a part of his life, so they figured spending Valentine's Day with you two would be pretty interesting." He explains.

"I don't want anybody getting a good feel of Nikki's anything." I reply stubbornly, crossing my arms.

"Yeah, and Viv won't let me pull out the really special techniques while someone's in the house with us." Nikki adds. "And she only lets me do them on special occasions."

"Nobody's feeling anybody else, and you two sodomites can have all the fun you want once the interview is done with. It'll take four hours, tops." Doc says, looking at Nikki. "We're gonna have to start promoting the album."

This is the selling point.

Nikki sighs, rubbing his face, groaning.

"Fine." He gives up, looking at me. "We can entertain the nosy bastard for a few hours, I guess."

"I suppose." I roll my eyes.

"Thank you." Doc let's out with relief.

"Was that it?" I ask him, glancing around his office.

"Oh, yeah." He nods.

"We drove down here just for you to tell us something you could have easily called and told us over the phone?" Nikki asks next.

"Yeah, 'cause I wanted to see how you look and sure enough you look like shit." Doc states and Nikki rolls his eyes. "Which reminds me, clean up your house and make yourself seem like you're not on drugs. K?" Doc gives us a parting word of advice as we stand up to leave.

"Yeah, yeah, got it." Nikki waves him off, leaving in front of me.

"Viv." Doc says to me and I nod reassuringly.

"I'll make sure he keeps it together for the interview."

"Thank you, you two be careful on the way home."

"We will, bye." I shut the door and follow Nikki out to his Jeep.

"I really don't feel like dealing with the press." He grumbles, looking at me now with his sunglasses on and I give him a small smile.

"Maybe it won't be that bad."

"I don't like people I don't fuck with in my house. It's my house. My space. It isn't a fucking amusement park that's open for review." He cranks the car and I put my seat belt on.

"Baby?"

"What?" He says a little harsh.

"It will be okay." I pat his fluffy hair. "K?"

He doesn't answer, actually pouting like a spoiled little boy.

When he ignores me, about to start driving, I raise a brow, unbuckle, and my fingers slowly fumble with the button on his jeans as his pout falters and his smirk replaces it, followed by the sound of a content, groan-filled sigh, and the back of his head hitting the back of his seat when I get my mouth around his prick.

Once we get home I'm wiping the remains of slobber and cum from my lips and he's struggling to keep his legs from collapsing.

"Are you okay?" I ask him smugly when his leg shakes a little bit as he unlocks the front door.

"Watch it, Sixx." He warns as he points at me, his hand popping me on the ass when I walk in front of him to go inside, and I let out a small shriek, following it with a laugh.

My laughter abruptly stops when I see Vanity watching T.V.

She actually seems sober enough, but she looks like she just came off of a bender.

Nikki and I look at each other.

"Oh, there you are. Nikki wasn't answering the phone and I wanted to see him." She tells us, her eyes glued him, and he sighs.

"Well, I'm here. What do you want?" He asks her in a snap, taking his jacket off.

"Nikki, quit being rude." I tell him quietly.

"Showing up to people's houses uninvited is rude." He replies, glaring at her.

"Not when I gave her the code to the gate and a key." I state.

His eyes bug for a second and he's raising his brows at me.

"You what?"

"Tansy has the code and a key, Tommy, Vince and Mick have the code and a key. Izzy, Steven, Slash, Duff, Axl--"

"--That's different." He cuts me short.

"How? They're our friends and so is she." I point out.

"If I'm not welcome I can just go." She says, grabbing her coat.

"Bye." Nikki says just as I say, "no, it's okay."

He and I give each other dirty looks.

"I was actually about to start cooking dinner and invite some friends over so feel free to stay, please." I offer to her. "Nikki, I need your help in the kitchen."

He follows me and I yank on the ends of his hair once we're alone, scolding him.

"Will you stop being a jackass to her?!" I whisper-yell.

"Can you stop being so fucking nice to people? It's stupid."

"Oh, God forbid Nikki Sixx be married to someone who's not a complete bitch." I roll my eyes, grabbing a few pans from our cabinet and he let's out a heavy breath.

"She's fucking crazy, Vivian." He argues and I turn to face him.

"You say the same thing about me any time I piss you off. I really believe she's a good girl, Nikki. She just needs one, good, solid friend that isn't just friends with her to have someone to do drugs with." I explain.

"Oh, yeah, Viv, she's really good...at being a fucking slut."

I pop him in the side of the face and point my finger at him.

"You don't talk like that about Vince or Tommy or Robbin so why the hell talk like that about her?"

"Because she is one." He ignores me and I let out a breath. "Some of the dudes she's fucked are married." He adds.

"Tansy has slept with married men, is she a slut, too?" I ask him and he rolls his jaw. "What I thought."

"Viv, I really don't--"

"Okay, Nikki. Whatever you say." I interrupt him, grabbing some things from the fridge. "She's an awful person, got it. Can you please help me with this so I can clean up the house some?" I ask.

He hesitates for a second before opening the packet of chicken on the counter I pulled from the fridge.

"Thank you." I smile, kissing his cheek, before leaving him alone so I can get the house in nice shape.

To say Nikki projected shit onto Vanity would be an understatement. Her hands weren't clean, of course, but he would often externally put her down the way he internally put himself down for what the two of them were doing to me. It was moments like that, that I looked back on after finding everything out, and would want to hit myself.

He practically told me they were sleeping together without actually saying "hey, I'm screwing this woman that you think is your friend, and you're being too nice and naive to think we wouldn't do that to you."

"Tommy and Heather, Vince and Sharise, Tansy and Vanity, Duff, Slash, Steven, Izzy and Axl." I tell Mick how many people will be at dinner and I hear him let out a breath on the other end of the phone.

"I don't know, Viv." He tells me.

"Mick, c'mon, I haven't seen you very much the past year."

"I don't know..."

"Mick--"

"--Mick, get your ass over here so we can have a good time. We're gonna see you in the studio tomorrow, anyway, so just come celebrate the commencement of the start of the new album." Nikki says after he takes the phone from me.

Mick says something and Nikki grins.

"Alright, bye." He hangs up. "He's in." He tells me.

"Thank you for snatching the phone from me, dickhead." I say, half-joking.

"Okay, I am this close," he holds his pointer finger and thumb centimeters apart from each other. "to bending you over my knee and beating your ass."

"Promise?" I reply, grinning, and he tugs me closer to him, but just before our lips meet, Vanity is walking--more so bursting--into the kitchen.

"Nikki, when are we hanging out?" She asks him, nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Nikki's hands dig into my hips as if he's channeling his frustration instead of being rude.

I know what "hangout" means, and I don't need him cracked out, especially not now with guests coming over soon.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Vanity." I explain to her as politely as I can.

"Why not?" She asks me.

"Just not aright now." Nikki tells her, actually more tolerant than he was earlier.

I don't know if I'm shocked because he's not being an ass to her, or because he's  turning down the opportunity to go hit a crackpipe. 

Vanity looks at me for a split second--a very short, nearly millisecond--as if I'm the fucking Devil, before it vanishes and she smiles at us.

"Okay, I'm gonna be in the bathroom freshening up." She tells us, walking in the direction of the guest bathroom, and I let out a breath when she's gone.

"You mean you don't wanna greet our guests naked, waving a gun, and accuse them of being the FBI before opening fire?" I ask him.

He just gives me an unamused look.

"I'm gonna go change before that 'ass beating' is administered." I suggest.

"Yeah, good idea."

I change, put on some makeup, and run my fingers through my hair to comb it out before stepping into the kitchen to help Nikki finish up.

I'm met with uncooked food.

"Uh...Nikki?!" I call, glancing at the clock to see it's 8:00pm.

People will be here any minute.

I go looking for him, smelling the familiarity of cocaine.

"Oh my God." I say to myself, opening the guest bedroom to see Nikki and Vanity crouched over their pipes with a mountain of blow out.

They look at me with wild eyes.

As if on cue, the doorbell rings.

"Please be someone sober. Please be someone sober." I repeat, shutting the door as I step to the door.

I open it to reveal Duff and the guys.

"I need help." I tell them, sounding panicked. "Nikki and Vanity's cracked out."

"Um, w-we were gonna ask you for help." Duff tells me.

"What, why?"

They move over and I see Tansy, shaking a little.

"Are you--"

Before I can finish, a familiar "BANG" is sounding through the house and is joined with a loud, ear-shattering shriek of glass breaking, and we hit the ground, Duff securing me under him before a second shot is fired, breaking more glass, causing Tansy to start screaming and crying from under Axl and Steven.

I thank God when Nikki doesn't shoot again, instead the sound of him scrambling to get to his closet, and the sound of Vanity's heels scampering along with him has me sighing with relief. I hear him slam our bedroom door, and Duff runs his thumbs under my eyes to wipe at tears that I had no idea were even coming out of me.

"Holy shit." Izzy mumbles. 

"Are you okay?" Duff asks me and I nod as he helps me up.

"Tansy?" I ask her gently, she's got her hands over her ears, tears streaming down her face.

Axl carefully steps into the house as I continue to reassure Tansy.

"Uh, Viv?" Axl asks.

"I got it, Viv." Steven tells me, trying to calm Tansy down.

I follow Axl into the house, and I'm taken back by the sight of our entire ceiling in the living room shattered over our couches, the carpet, the coffee table, the T.V., it's a giant sheet of sparkling, sharp, shards of mirror.

It seems like forever just staring at the damage done to my house, and I'm unable to get words to come out of my mouth.

"Dude, is Tansy alright?" Tommy's voice sounds at the door and we snap around to see him.

I hear Heather and Sharise outside before Vince comes in behind Tommy, their brows raising at the sight of the mess.

"Hooollllyyyy..." the blonde singer drags out.

"You alright?" Axl asks me, and anger rolls through me, my teeth grinding together.

"Viv?" Tommy adds.

"Doc. Bob. Now." Is all I'm able to say.

"On it." Tommy doesn't waste a minute stepping through the glass to get to the phone in the living room while Axl tugs me back outside to avoid murdering Nikki.

That was the first straw that began the process of breaking the camel's back.

[overdramatic-queer-antagonist]

Echos of Something Long Forgotten

AO3

Yeah, I can write canon compliant things. Wild, I know.

Magnus should be in bed. It's three am, and he's got a long day of training tomorrow, but- He has nightmares a lot. Always about Julia. Most of the time, they're about what happened, Kalen, and such, but sometimes they're... something else. It's not that he can't remember the dream so much as parts. Scenery, people, and words, usually. 

He's had The dream since before Governer Kalen. Hell, Steven (his father in law, not the fish) took him to a dream specialist for it. Ze had said it was a sign of PTSD, but Magnus had never experienced anything like it in his waking life. 

In the dream, something descends from the sky. When Magnus tries to remember what, all he can think of is static. Dream Magnus knows what it is, though. His friend grabs his hand (Another piece of static. He can't think of his name or face. Magnus is pretty sure it starts with a B,) and they run towards some more static people. The captain tells them the game plan. Which is also mostly incomprehensible, but Dream Magnus gets it. And then they break off.

Magnus runs into the Hammer and Tongs. He's yelling for Steven and Julia, and he hears Steven scream. There are more people- no. not people. They're a part of the thing in the sky. He gets into the room just soon enough to watch the static monsters kill Julia. Even as she dies, she keeps hacking her ax at it. Sometimes Magnus wonders if she died fighting in real life, too.

The dream was marginally easier when he still had Julia. He'd wake up screaming for her every time. She never got frustrated, though, even when they were fighting. She'd kiss the scar above his eye, and they'd go downstairs and heat up some lavender tea. That's what he was doing now. He never did lose the habit of stocking up on lavender tea. It wouldn't be as good as Julia made it, but it would do.

Magnus was sure he'd be alone. Yet, here Taako was kneading dough way too hard.

"Taako? Is everything okay?" Magnus asks blearily.

Taako jumps and aims the Umbrastaff at Magnus, relaxing when he sees who it is. "Shit, Maggy! Thought you were one of those crystal monsters!" When Taako doesn't answer the question, Magnus raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just couldn't sleep."

"Yeah, same. Had a nightmare." Magnus says. He's trying to imply that Taako can tell him what's wrong.

"What about? Dogs falling off the moon?" Taako asks, making clear that he doesn't want to say why he's up.

"No, actually. About my wife. And what happened," Magnus is kinda lying, but he doesn't really want to get into it, and he doubts Taako would either.

"Fuck, sorry, dude." From anyone else, that would seem apathetic. But Magnus likes to think he knows Taako well enough to know that's not true.

"Yeah, just making some tea. Speaking of what are you making?"

"Oh, just basic sourdough. Don't have 'nuff energy for anything too fancy."

Magnus would love to tell Taako he's sure it will be delicious. He is. Those macaroons Taako made last month for Candlenights? Amazing. But Magnus knows that any mention of actually eating anything he makes will make whatever wrong worse. 

Those macaroons were the only thing of Taako's Magnus has ever seen anyone eat in the half-year he's known him. It's not like Taako doesn't cook. He does, all the time. But when he's done, he always just throws it away.

Instead, Magnus stays quiet. The two putter around the kitchen, making their respective coping foods, in silence until they hear a loud banging coming from Merle's room.

Magnus, you guessed it, rushes in. Well, actually. He knocks politely on the door and asks, "Everything okay?" He doesn't get a response, so he says, "Okay. I'm gonna come in now." and opens the door.

Magnus doesn't think he's ever seen Merle cry. Well, there was that time last month when Magnus cut his arm off, but even then, he barely shed a tear. Now, Merle was sitting at his desk, sobbing so hard that it shook. It looks like that banging Magnus heard was Merle's Xtreme Teen Bible! falling off of the desk.

Merle looked up at Magnus sadly and sighed, "Oh no, Mags. You don't need to see me like-" His thought was interrupted by another loud sob, and he gave up on trying to speak.

"Okay," Magnus starts carefully. "I'm gonna carry you over to the couch. Nod if that's okay." Merle nods, so Magnus gently lifts and walks slowly over to the couch. 

By the time he has Merle comfortably seated, Taako comes over with a rag that smells like lavender. (Magnus privately wonders if Taako just dumped his tea on a rag.) He puts the rag around Merle's neck and holds his hands.

"Okay, now tell me what happened," Taako says.

"I had a nightmare. I w- I'm sorry, I can't," Merle whispers the last part as if he thinks if he's quiet enough, the tears won't try to interrupt him.

"That's okay. You're gonna have trouble. Just keep trying." Taako says as he rubs circles into Merle's palm.

Merle takes a deep breath and continues, "I was playing chess with a man. I can't think of his face, but I'm pretty sure I knew him. J-J." He slumps over as he tries to think of the name.

"Don't worry, Merle. Just keep going." Magnus says.

"Okay... He kept- he kept asking me about my kids. And I kept trying to change the subject, but he just kept asking and- I can't explain it, but I just knew he was going to hurt them."

"Is there more?" Taako asks. Merle shakes his head. "Okay, now take slow, deep breaths. In for 7, hold for 4, out for 8."

After a few cycles, Merle looks like he feels a lot better, and he asks, "Now, where the hell did you learn that, Taako?"

Taako closes his eyes tight like he has a headache, and Magnus puts a hand on his shoulder. "It's not worth it. Just let the question slide past."

The trio sit in quiet for a moment before Taako finally asks, "Magnus, did your nightmare have static in it?" Magnus nods. "Mine too..." Taako says thoughtfully. After a moment, he lets out a loud groan and gets up. "There's something there! It's right there, but I. Can't. See. It. And it's driving me crazy!"

"Just let it pass. Do you wanna talk about what it's about?" Taako opens his mouth to speak and instead starts gagging. "Okay, me first. A big cloud of static comes down from the sky. There are seven of us. We all seem to know what's going on. We're trying to stop it. I go to the shop- Oh boy. One second," Fantasy Jesus, why is Magnus's mouth so dry. His heart was pounding, but he could work through that. "I go to the shop my father in law and I owned, and I can hear him screaming from the backroom. The last thing I see before I wake up is Julia hacking at a static monster, refusing to die. The worst part is these dreams started before they even died."

It takes a moment to realize why nobody's speaking. Merle's drinking a glass of water- good he was crying. He's probably dehydrated.- But Taako's writing furiously into a notebook. Magnus laughs. He looks just like- Taako gives him a weird look, and Magnus shrugs in return.

"Can you speak, bud?" Merle asks.

Taako sighs, "Yeah, I think it'll be okay. Wasn't sure, though, hence the notebook. Okay... Fantasy Mary Berry, this is like group therapy or something! So. I poisoned a whole town."

"Gosh, Taako, that sounds terrible. I'm so sor-" Taako interrupts Magnus with a sharp, bitter laugh.

"That wasn't the nightmare. It actually happened. An accident, obvi, but I'm still wanted. Glamour Springs, forty people died."

"Shit."

"Yeah. 'Shit' indeed. The point is that's why I don't really cook for anyone anymore. In my dream, I'm making something for someone... It's so weird. I want to say she's my sister, but I'm an only child. But, yeah. My 'sister' eats it. Thirty garlic clove chicken, because my brain hates me. It poisons her, and I sit there watching her die in front of me, unable to do anything but pray it doesn't hurt too much. I can't even figure out what I did to mess up the recipe so bad."

There's silence for a moment. Magnus doesn't really know how to proceed, and he's willing to bet the others feel the same. After a second, Merle speaks. "Wow. What a fucked up group we are, huh?"

Magnus laughs, "Yeah, that's one way of putting it, old man!"

Eventually, the conversation becomes less weighted and the silence more comfortable. It's nice. Knowing that there were other anomalies like Magnus. People who cried for people and places they didn't know that didn't exist, probably. Even so, Magnus can't shake how familiar all of this feels. Talking with Taako and Merle like this. It feels like he's done it a thousand times. But he guesses that's just another thought he has to let slip through the cracks. For now, he'll just goof off with the first friends he's made since the fall of Raven's Roost. Yeah. That sounds nice.

_____

Lucretia hoped that they would be asleep. She'd woken up with nightmares again, just like she had for the past 112 years, just like they all had. This was the day the Hunger took their home from them, after all.

She just wants to check on them, make sure they were still there. Not dead like her nightmares. They aren't. She hears Taako laughing from behind the door, and for a moment, all she wants to do is barge into that room and tell them about the latest book she read.

That's what they used to do on this day. When everything was too much like what they'd lost. Magnus would always try to get through it alone, but the Captian made sure nobody went through it alone. 

The twins would bake cookies, elderflower macaroons, Lucretia's favorite, and try to teach Barry how to make hot cocoa. They never could figure out if him drinking the one with milk in it was better or worse. Taako swore it was a sin to drink hot cocoa made with water, but Lup didn't want him to hurt his stomach.

Merle would listen to Lucretia rambling on about whatever book she'd just read. They had to stock up on them because she went through them so quickly. Taako would interject her retelling with comments and jokes. Whenever she read a particularly heteronormative one, he'd start interjecting ways the scene could've gone but didn't. It was like a party. It was a little too somber, but that just made it a shitty party.

It had been twelve years since their last shitty party. Lucretia wanted so bad to just walk in there and be like they used to. Taako, making fun of Barry and Lup. Merle, trying to get Davenport to dance with him. Much to the dismay of everyone else in the room.  Magnus, parading Lucretia around on his shoulders as she ranted about how overrated Fantasy Shakespeare was. 

But Lup and Barry are gone. Davenport's a husk. Magnus, Merle, and Taako, while they may not seem too different to the outside eye, are broken. And it's all Lucretia's fault. She tries to tell herself that she had no choice. Once the Hunger was stopped, they could go back to that. She really should be going, actually. But she's been all alone for twelve years. So she leans against the door of her brothers who don't remember her. She'll just listen for a little bit longer.

[abouthoundsandlittlebirds]

Every year billions of women are brainwashed to accept rape, pedophilia and grooming. Religion was the original mass media. Do not let the vatican pedophiles and enablers mislead. The bible has groomed generations to make excuses for the RAPE OF MARY, a CHILD, by distorting the story of her impregnation by her FATHER as a divine miracle where the seed planted in her was a HONOR helping politicians silence rape victims. Spread education not indoctrination #antitrump #antipedophilia #antigrooming

Christians' religions don't have place for women or children. Either a woman/child is a vehicle of men's purposes or the woman/child is the reason for men's misfortune.

Take the saints as an example. A lot of saints are either female or just a child (sometimes they are both) that suffered so much during their life with nobody helping them. Some died from anorexy, some were tortured (only to become a martyr) and some believed blindly on men's words. A lot of those saints died on a catholic ground too.

It is not a bad thing to have a religion, but when you know the truth (text interpretation leads you to know stuffs) how can you support it?

I believe that faith is a good thing, because it is beautiful, but a blind faith is dangerous.

Also, the past is gone (we cannot change it) and what matter is the future. However, how can you walk into a healthy future if you bring mismatching values (being those values responsibles to subdue people by genres and ethnicity) with you?

The concept of childhood is young, it has not 100 years yet. But it is the only thing that protects our children and gives them more opportunity in life. The use of children to do ilegal jobs (drugs dealer, robbery, porstitution, killing, etc) worldwide is making people wonder if the concept of chilhood is really "good", since children are puppets in the hands of grownups and earns money through a bad way instead of a legal one. Those people are showing that children can do things ahead of their age. They cannot consent (they are mislead to believe they can), but does consent really matter in the end of the day? In a men's society, it never mattered.

For centuries women and children are told to take care of themselves. No education against bad acts were teached. Not even in this XXI century.

They talk about victims. They tell us the victims' story. They turn the criminals into victims to justify their wrong doing. But why?? Why can't the society pray lessons of how bad it is if you do wrong actions? Why don't they teach what will happen to them?? We have more lessons of how we should portray and which risks we should avoyd, because we know what will happen to us if we become a victim. Do you know what it sounds to me? That the law is b*llshit.

Victims don't have a place in the law. The law offers no supports to the victims, but criminals have it. If criminals are caught, they recieve a lot of "privileges". They can have a roof on their head and food on their belly. Victims that lost everything to the criminals will have nothing if no one feels like doing charity, and when the govern interveins is only to look good on tv and only for a short time.

I will cut my line here, otherwise I won't stop talking.

Thank you for your ask, anon! 😚

[noonymoon]

sometimes it’s hard to believe how good and strong Noah was. i’m only following Jesus for like 4 months - and even though He has empowered me already to do incredibly hard things which i would have never done without Him - it’s just both devastating and inspiring to think of the fact that Noah spent _a hundred and twenty years_ preaching to the wicked people around him that God’s wrath will come but that He is merciful and offers safety and salvation for everyone who would stop being wicked and walk with their Creator. 

all the people around him thought Noah was a crazy lunatic and paranoid (just like believers in Jesus and the End Times are being mocked as conspiracy theorists, tragic how it’s... exactly the same..) and they sure mocked him and laughed at his diligent effort to build a wooden boat that was _half_ the size of our modern-day Queen Mary II (which can transport over 3000 people) .. Noah lived in a desperately wicked society and nobody would listen to him but he just kept following God’s instructions and had faith in Him for decades & decades until the cup of iniquity was abundantly overflowing in the eyes of God and when the flood was emerging, Noah should enter the Ark with his family and all the animals and God sealed it.

when the people realized that they are going to surely drown in the massive amounts of water, they came running and begging Noah to open the Ark and that they now are ready to return to God, but Noah told them that he was trying to save them for 120 years and that they would not listen & would just continue to be wicked day and night, and that now it’s too late and that they will all die.

somehow i am “glad” that i don’t have to preach Jesus for 120 years, but only a fragment of that, because even though i am getting more brave and open with Him (all thanks to His own works in my heart, praise the Lord), it is just so very disheartening ... people literally hate you & look down on you, or they just don’t care because “God’s word is not my way” and think they will be okay, or they say “well, i am agnostic, but it’s nice that your faith helps you” and your list of people that you are praying for gets longer and longer and you cry bitter tears for them, and you know they will experience God’s wrath and die, and there is no second chance for salvation and eternal life ever again.

when you study the Bible, you soon notice that everything happens in a pattern because God is truly a mastermind, He never ever changes and He keeps every single promise that He made. He not only planned and prophesied everything major that ever happened in human history and everything that will happen until the End of this wicked timeline (and for the followers of Jesus the beginning of the world how it was _supposed_ to be before Adam & Eve decided they want to rather listen to Satan and be their own gods), but also He has the glory and power to make it happen _exactly_ like He said He would. it’s just... wow!

in the beginning of my walk with God and Jesus, i was honestly somewhat uneased because a) i knew that this world is 100% fake - but b) i wasn’t all too grounded in Scripture to really know what is going to happen because 95% of all Christians are _not_ grounded in Scripture themselves, and they believe in theories about the End Times that have been purposefully generated to deceive the majority (which sadly worked) and they spread their beliefs around (which as a babe in Christ will just not help you) - but when you realize that everything the Bible tells is entirely true, there’s a spirit of unrest upon you and as if time is running but you don’t know how to prepare. you just know _something_ is going to happen and it’s entirely irrelevant if you personally believe it will happen or not, it will 100% happen because God said so.

i’ve prayed and prayed and prayed for Truth and God led me towards the only path that, concerning the End Times, is the correct one, and i’ve studied and studied and now i can finally say i know what is going to happen (i’m also quite sure when it is going to happen but i am still praying about it for more revelation) and now i am very certain that yes, my unrest was indeed valid, but at least i can focus on praying for strength, courage and an unbreakable faith in Jesus now because true followers of Him (and not followers of dead Christian institutional church religion) that won’t bow down to the Antichrist Beast System will be 100% persecuted and in the worst case executed like back in the Dark Ages. 

sometimes i cry because i know it’s going to be the hardest thing ever, but when you are born-again and _know_ in your heart that Jesus died for you in the most cruel and undignified way possible and when you feel His love rushing through you and you just weep uncontrollably because you can’t possibly hold this deep emotion, there is literally not a single thing in this world that you would not want to endure for Him. i would rather be beheaded than to deny the Son of God and exactly this is the reason why all of the 12 apostles of Jesus were killed in the most horrible ways (crucified upside down, beheaded, stoned, burned alive, etc.) - because they would rather die for Jesus than to bow down to anyone else or deny Him and the Gospel of salvation because when you _know_ it’s true there’s just _nothing_ in this world that could make you be so foolish.

long story short: Noah was an amazing man of God but he probably had the most unsuccessful ministry of all people ever. not a single soul was saved apart from his own family. how sad is that.