#you're a PASTOR FOR GOD'S SAKE

[thotsfortherapy]

man I'm low-key grateful for my late ADHD diagnosis cause after I told my mom her immediate reaction was to just force me to mask and be condescending about it and if that had happened when I was a kid that would just be another layer to unpack in therapy 😬

#cy says stuff #personal #do not reblog #in case it needs to be said #i finally made it home and had some interactions with her that made me realize like oh no #like they don't have my luggage still so I'm out of meds and i was like I'm gonna be going through withdrawal cause of that so #we can maybe get compensation from the airline cause that's fucked up #and her immediate reaction was to make a joke about how like she should avoid me cause ill cause problems i guess #and upon reflection i now realize that's fucked up cause like #uh oh is someone going to be GRUMPY? you're gonna be soooooo irritable LOLOLOL #and it's like. yes. because im going through WITHDRAWAL. like ??????? #she was gonna keep going and i told her to stop cause she was going to say something that offended me and she was like #you're too sensitive it was a JOKE #and i had to be like hey you can still make jokes but there's things ppl are sensitive about and this is one of mine #and she was like whatever 🙄🙄 #and idk it's like girl why am i parenting you rn like what 😭 this is basic empathy #you're a PASTOR FOR GOD'S SAKE #idk. imagine if someone went to her for support and was like oh hey I'm going through divorce rn #and she was like omg are you gonna be upset cause youre getting divorced?? better stay away from you then 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 #like yes this is actually a valid reason to be upset i literallyyyyyyyy #screaming crying upset #also these bug bites SUCK they woke me up #gonna call the hotel for compensation tomorrow cause girlie i didnt pay to bring bed bugs back to my house! #that's a little extra treat i really do not want

[schwarzkatje]

dark!orphan!ellie x nun!reader || part 3

disclaimer: alright, i'm just gonna say that this is filth in its original form aka contains SMUT that is immoral; offensive to religion if you believe and/or practice the religion implied here; it deals with power dynamics between an educational figure and a supposed pupil even though it has no age gap warning since they are basically the same age; it has violence in the form of slapping; it shows both ellie AND reader being dark characters with questionable morals. so if ANY of this triggers you, i prefer you skip for my but mostly your sake. also, not proofread srry

> for part 1 click here || for part 2 click here

"admit it, you act like a brat all the fucking time because you love it when you get punished," never in a million years would you have thought these words would have exited your mouth. nor would you have entertained the idea of breaking your vows because of something so futile like losing your temper.

except what was happening was proof of how delusional your beliefs and how fragile the rope you were walking on had both been. more specifically what was happening underneath you.

you were straddling ellie, the heels of her feet planted on the mattress and her thighs spread to accommodate your hand as it furiously flicked her pulsating clit and the outer zones of her pussy, drenched in white slick.

the other hand was feigning in her task to handcuff ellie's wrists, as it bore no real force nor did it occur to you that she could break free whenever she decided. you simply ignored it, too drunk off of nothing but a ravaging and ravenous hallucination of retribution. ellie had brought an earthquake inside you, causing casualties in the process, namely what you stood for, the light in your eyes and the faith towards god. in a regained moment of lucidity you could have recognised you were turning into the reflection of ellie's sufferings.

and god, wasn't she willing to dance this macabre tango with you and accept the pleasure that was making her delirious. her hips thrusted up, closer to your fingers, imagining they were your pussy humping her own, riding her in this exact same position that naive you had thought to be a cage for ellie.

"don't lie, you're too – fuck yeah – you're way too good at this. do you fuck the other sisters, when you are done tormenting me, mh?" the contorted expression was the perfect mask to hide the trail of jealousy implied in such an insisting enquiry and to distract from the fact that her eyes would have rolled back to her skull hadn't she been more lucid. "do you suck the pastor's cock when he comes to visit, too?"

"you wish. you wish i had so your fantasies about me get more realistic, don't you?" both your middle and ring finger were exploring the outer region of ellie's intoxicatingly warm hole, with such a slow pace that ellie feared you would stop at any time.

only one hour prior to this enactment of pure debauchery you were busing your mind with paperwork, locked in your room, locked away from ellie. you hadn't planned this.

the exact way you hadn't planned to abandon your dummy remnants of resolution as you let ellie enter your quarters. the exact way you hadn't planned to fight for the umpteenth time knowing it would have resulted in ulterior mortification for you. the exact way you hadn't planned to slap her. for the second time. completely throwing away the memory of ellie promising to make you pay for this the first time you had done it. except, ellie too had seemed to have forgotten all about this threat.

"do it again," ellie had been prompting you, daring you to do it, if not for the fact that she had trapped your wrist, actually impeding the fulfilment of what was acquiring the shape of a wish trough and through. her superior strength had proven a perfect feature to yank your entire body closer to her.

your other hand was holding the bible and you reckoned that once you had dropped it, it would have meant bending irremediably, to the point of breaking, in favour of the evil pulling that had been dancing around you throughout your entire life.

the deaf thud of the sacred text hitting the floor had rivalled with the same echoed sound of ellie's cheek getting slapped once again. the capillaries were fast breaking and the warm sensation over the beaten skin sat rather uncomfortable. not so much so as to hinder the devilish grin that ellie had no shame in sporting.

"at least now you're dropping the act of the prissy nun thinking she's better than everyone," her raspy voice had become lower, almost inaudible. but as subtle – and therefore armless – as it may have seemed, its ability to insinuate just as venom does, with blind cruelty, hadn't left space for mercy. "beating me like the other sisters when you faked compassion the moment they did it to me."

the whole context hadn't given you the chance to develop not even a semblance of pity towards ellie. no, it couldn't have found it in the midst of the scorching flames hell that was engulfing your guts. "you deserve every punishment they gave you. my only mistake was thinking you could gain god's forgiveness," you had inched closer to ellie, mimicking, without having full control over it, her tone and setting a twisted game with the loser's destruction as the prize.

"i'm yet to see how you discipline your bad kids," ellie had taken your free hand, the one responsible for the red heat spreading on half of her face, had brought it closer to her chipped lips, "since you're a sick pervert, i imagine you make them do sick shit as well. what is it? spanking? making them kneel down to eat your pussy?" the last bit of her degrading speech had been accompanied by the wet noise of her saliva coating your thumb and your thumb pressing as though it had had life of its own down ellie's tongue.

"want me to show it to you?" it must have been the devil himself that had smelt how deliciously sinfully your soul was accepting to delve into a grave without possibility to repent. everything had been lost.

"fuck– fucking slut knows hot to– oh man—," that was the agonised prize that your fingers entering ellie and pumping with no care in the world inside her pussy had won for you. there was a spot under ellie, a combination of her own cum and the saliva you had spat on your hand because depravity was the puppeteer moving and angling your strings, and you, brainless and unable to feel shame, followed along, being the only purpose of your tainted existence.

you were becoming obsessed with that sight, your pussy had long started to grind on ellie's stomach, lifting more and more of her black shirt, revealing the toned muscles that helped the friction you were ready to sell your soul to encounter.

fitting a third finger inside ellie, you moaned as though you were the one being penetrated. your teeth were munching your lower lip as a manner to deal with the inexplicable pleasure you were both giving and experiencing. like the previous things, you definitely hadn't planned not only to do this, but to enjoy it as much as an animal in heat would have.

ellie decided she had had enough and pulled her hands out of the pathetic cage that was your numb digits, reckoning they would be of more use gripping the soft flesh of your hips and helping you cover her navel with more your intoxicating precum.

"why can't you always be this obedient? why can't you be a good girl?" your now free hand found a new grip in your own hair, all while indulging in ellie's silent desire to hump harder above her. which meant automatically increasing the speed with which your fingers were claiming her fucked out hole.

ellie sobbed at your words, reading them as indirect praise, the affirmation that like a madwoman she had been searching her all life, the affirmation that frustrated her so much it made her into the shadow of herself.

"oh god please– please, forgive me... oh god, ellie– don't stop..." came out corrupted beyond salvation, tainted by your tears of pleasure and the chocked scream of the most mind numbing orgasm you have ever had, fearing your brain would never recover its sanity.

if you had been captured by the image of ellie, fucked out on the bed where you sleep, ellie too had endured a sight of her own that pushed its limit with you coming on her. it happened during the first second of your high, for this reason you understood that ellie had flipped both of you over, so that now she was between your legs, only when your clothed core met ellie's naked one.

she was humping you like you had been humping her, only with more domineering force due to the position you were in. ellie had her own release in mind and nothing else. there was only the heat stuck in her belly finally exploding with spikes making different parts of her body convulse in quick succession.

the ache of your pussy was no match to the fuelling sensation of having ellie take you like this, using you for her own pleasure after you doing the same to her, putting you in a subordinate position to have full control of what to do to you. "e-ellie come, please come," you begged and pathetically tried to confirm what you wanted by holding ellie's ass to deepen her movements.

she, on the other hand, couldn't resist any longer and with a last thrust she halted flush against you, mere centimetres away from your lips, your legs spread impossibly wide with the only intention of providing ellie with the best position to let go of her built up arousal.

her face had somewhat softened, not taking into account the frown on her forehead, her eyebrows knitted in a desperate expression, almost confused by the force with which her orgasm had deprived her of the characteristic vulgarity and witty behaviour.

she looked... vulnerable. and her lips looked so ready to be kissed and maybe even bitten or sucked. but the delirious feeling of the orgasm had wore off completely by then and anger for a further loss in dignity was covering the entirety of your thoughts. you weren't going to show any more of what you had already done.

you pushed her away, shivering in cold once her body left yours and as quickly as your trembling legs permitted you, you sat on the edge of your bed. facing away from ellie who was waiting for your next move.

"get the fuck out of my room," and with that, a deafening noise produced by the slamming of your wooden door was all was left for you to hear.

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x y/n #ellie smut #ellie x you #the last of us smut #dark ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou

[prokopetz]

Hey! So I ran a one-shot of Eat God and we had a blast. I have some feedback to offer from both myself and my players (This was actually a while ago but I’ve been busy as hell so I’m only writing it up now, so I might have forgotten some things). 

First off, character creation was just as fun as advertised. My player’s all loved getting to choose their character’s traits and appearance and designing their deicidal muppets. The game’s mechanics also made it extremely easy to create looney-tunes style shenanigans, which both I and the character’s took full advantage of. 

At one point a character with the roving limbs trait was running away with a barrel containing another character (I put the character in the barrel) balanced on their legs while their top half distracted the town guards, a completely different character slipped into the sewers I hadn’t thought about and I had a chance to throw a surprise alligator at them, and a theocratic pastor said that he “carried God with him in his heart” (which ended exactly as anthropophagically as I had expected it too). I also got the great quote from one of my players “I swear to the god I want to eat.” 

I have a few critiques, a few suggestions for things to develop for future editions, and a few questions. My first critique is that I think that having tokens for obstinacy is a little distracting, since you keep track of everything else about your character on paper (we ended up using Sprite flavored tic-tacs that one of the player’s had in their bag) and would be better done on the character sheet. I also think the game could use a formal turn structure for high-pressure situations. It’s a game that promotes chaotic play, and with people popcorning in it got a bit loud and overwhelming. 

For future developments, I think that having more specific action types like attack, help, investigate, etc. would be helpful. Specifying the mechanical effects tied to some of the abilities, like being able to “stun” someone with Primordial Power and Dizzying Display, having a general movement speed that would be doubled by Fast Feet, being difficult to harm with Defensive Dermis, etc., would be useful for the GM. And more examples of NPC abilities would be useful, if only to have something to base homebrew on. 

There are also a few questions I had. First, is there a specific time scale for actions taken in a high-pressure situation like combat? 

Second, I assume that you count the unmodified roll for calculating calamity? Because I don’t believe any roll over a character’s facet would have no chance of triggering calamity, and similarly don’t believe that positive modifiers would increase the chance of calamity. 

Lastly, a general lesson I learned as a GM that I do not hold against your game: be careful how far you let your characters stretch the limits of their abilities in low pressure situations if you’re too socially anxious to retcon in high pressure ones. 

Ultimately I think it’s a great game and everyone had a great time. I meant to run another session but didn’t find the time, so I might have more feedback when I finally get around to that. For credits sake I’m Kendall R., my players wanted to be credited as Noc, Ladybug, and Brynne.

(With reference to this post here.)

I appreciate the feedback. With respect to your questions:

First, is there a specific time scale for actions taken in a high-pressure situation like combat?

There is not. Defining a more formal conflict framework with a specific round length is a potential addition to a future revision, albeit not one I'm committing to adding at this time.

Second, I assume that you count the unmodified roll for calculating calamity?

Dice rolls in Eat God are generally not modified in any way; the value of a particular die is the number you rolled on that die. Effect modifiers (which I assume are what you're referring to here) apply to the roll's Result, which is the number you get from carrying out the procedure described in "Rolling and Reading Your Result"; any comparison which does not explicitly refer to a roll's Result is referring to the values the dice are physically showing.

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #eat god #game design #violence mention #death mention #cannibalism mention

[danosrosegarden]

if you feel comfortable could you do something nsfw for eli sunday? („• ᴗ •„) with a reader who rejects religion but at the same time wants Eli (I just want Eli to be a chaotic bunch desperate for attention) (; ω ; )

Lamb of the Lord - Eli Sunday x GN!Reader (NSFW)

Contains: sacrilege content, praise/degradation kink mixture, oral (reader receiving), switchy Eli.

Note: Oh, how I have been waiting for an excuse to write Eli smut. Thank you, darling anon.

The man sitting beside you in the pew truly could've been from heaven. He had plump, carnation pink cheeks like a youth-flushed angel and a bright, glossy aura which surrounded his figure. It looked like bleeding beams of sunshine. It smelled like hints of hope.

Father Eli Sunday had been called upon by your parents; they were sick of your rebellion. The devil coursed through your veins like boiling blood. The screeching of sin rang in your ears like the tinny buzz of a fly. You lived for the fast, the fun...whatever felt good. They thought you were wicked to your core, your blood cells coated with a putrid, gray grit. Perhaps you truly were beyond saving...but a private session with the young pastor was sure worth a try, wasn't it?

"You clasp your hands together and bow your head," he instructed.

You giggled at his earnestness. "You look stupid like that."

"I look stupid when I'm speaking to my savior?"

"With your hands like that? And that serious look on your face? Yes, you look like a poor beggar," you laughed cruelly. "Begging for Papa to come rescue you. How pathetic. I don't need saving."

Eli scoffed at your words. "This is exactly why I've brought you alone to my church today. The devil has grabbed ahold of your precious heart and twisted it about. He's spit in your mouth and you've swallowed his unholiness." He took a deep breath, shaking his head. "It makes me sad."

You toyed with your fingers, avoiding his eyes. They burned into you with a sizzling stare of shame. "I don't mean to upset you, Father. I just don't think God is for me."

He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see him gazing deeply into you, a faint smile spread across his face. "God is for everybody, dearest." He leaned into you, speaking quietly. "That's His beauty. He sent His son just for you." His whisper was harsh and hot against the shell of your ear, and a shiver raced through your body. He snaked his hand up towards your head and pet your hair.

"The Lord loves you, little angel..."

A deafening crack pierced through the air. Eli jerked to the side as his cheek prickled with popping streaks of red from your slap.

"I know what you want and I know what you're doing," you hissed.

"What the hell ails you?!"

"If you want me, Father, we're going to be doing things my way."

Eli rubbed his cheek and gaped at you with wide eyes. "What are you implying I'm trying to do here?"

How delicious his fake innocence tasted between the grooves of your teeth. How you wished to bite and pop his skin beneath your fangs. Who's your God, Eli? Be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour. I wish to unhinge my jaw and swallow you whole, Eli Sunday, and I get what I want.

"I bet if I kissed you right now, you wouldn't be able to resist me."

Eli's cheeks burned a sour burgundy as he sputtered for a reply. "Why...I-I'd never..."

You ran your finger around the edges of the silver cross dangling from his neck. "Have a little fun, Father. We're alone, after all. What, do you think me too hideous to touch?"

Eli shook his head. "You're beautiful." Your heart tingled with pride. "But this is the house of the Lord. How dare you even suggest such a flesh-fueled thing. I'm trying to help you!"

You rolled your eyes and grabbed him by his collar. "For Christ's sake," you muttered before capturing his lips with your own. Startled, Eli broke the kiss.

"You're evil," he growled. He grabbed your face and kissed you again. "Evil, wicked, sinful little thing." He fumbled with the buttons of your shirt. "I hate you," he said, rubbing his hands along the bare skin of your chest. "I hate you, I hate you."

"You love me, Eli," you groaned, shimmying your shirt off and unbuttoning his.

Eli dropped to his knees in front of you and tugged at your trousers. "You are rotten at your core and I..."

You reached out and rubbed him through his pants. He moaned softly.

"I hate you. I hate you. I need you so bad," he whimpered.

"There we go," you whispered with a grin.

You continued to rub him back and forth as he squirmed underneath your touch. "You know, I've been to some of your sermons before, Father. You're amazing, you know that?"

He groaned at the praise. "Keep going, keep going."

"You're a blessing," you cooed. "You're a star, Father. A shining, sparkling star in this dark, ugly world."

Eli squeezed his eyes shut tight as he bucked against your hand.

Flip the switch.

"How God would weep at you now, unfurling under my touch. Unequally yoked with somebody like me? Your Lord would be so disappointed."

Eli froze, and you halted your rubbing.

"Father, you are a dirty sinner."

You watched as his cobalt eyes became full and glossy with tears. "No, no, I'm a prophet, Y/N," he said, his voice laced with a pathetic whine. "You have no idea how strong my relationship with God is."

"How curious," you said. "Your relationship with God is so strong, you claim...yet you crumble the second my hand meets your cock."

He rolled his hips around your hand, desperate for more of your touch. "Just one time," he muttered towards the ceiling. "Just one time, and I'll spend the rest of my Earthly life making it up to you, Lord."

You unbuttoned your trousers and kicked them off. "Come get a taste of the devil, Eli. You'll never want to run back to God again."

He dived forward and wrapped his lips around you. His tongue swirled about in silky circles, and you sighed as it darted around.

"Sinful," you seethed. "Abomination before the eyes of God. So, so good for me." Your fingers laced themselves in between tufts of his hair. You pet his head gently as he continued to suck around you. You let his tongue flick against you for another moment before you pulled him away. A glassy string of salvia connected his lips to you.

"Clothing off," you demanded. Eli nodded and stripped. You took a moment to admire his body before your eyes trailed downwards.

"You've got such a beautiful cock," you whispered. "You want it inside of me?"

Eli mewled and nodded furiously. "Yes, God, please."

You bent over the pew. "Come and do it, then."

He wasted no time lining himself up against you and pushing in. You groaned at the burning stretch as Eli whimpered against you.

"Oh, yes, that's it," he moaned next to your ear. His cries were pathetic. You gobbled them up with a proud smirk and pushed back against him.

"See? Doesn't that feel so good, Father?"

His mouth hung wide open as he thrusted into you. "You feel so, so good," he wept.

"Oh, Father, isn't it nice?" You squeezed around him. His hips stuttered. "Don't I feel like heaven?"

"I can feel you throbbing," he said. "Dirty. Ch-chock-full of grimy sin. Have you no shame?"

"I'm not the one pretending here," you replied, rocking back so he was sheathed even deeper inside of you. "You act all high and mighty. I bet you've wanted to fuck me ever since you heard about me. I bet you dreamed about filling me up, filthy little whore."

Eli gripped your hips and growled as he thrusted into you harder. "If you keep talking like that, I'm gonna...gonna..."

You cackled, tightening your grasp on the pew. "Hilarious. I just feel too good, hmm? You get inside that hot, wet, slick, throbbing hole and can barely last a minute."

God is weeping in a dazed fit of sorrow. Satan is laughing in a twirling tumble of happy hysteria. You've got them both right where you want them.

"P...please!" he whined, the sound of skin slapping together ringing against the walls of the church. "Let me bury my seed inside of you. I know you want it, too. Let me fill you up."

You grinned. "Under one condition. Admit it, Father...I'm your god now."

His thrusts slowed to a halt as he rubbed the curves of your waist. "Darling, I...I can't do that, honey, I just can't..."

"Do you want to climax, or don't you?"

"I need to," he pleaded. "I need it more than anything."

You clenched around him again and felt the thick of his thighs tremble. "Say it."

He grabbed ahold of your hair and tugged, your head snapping back. "You are a demon made of filthy sin and mildewed blood and Christ, do I need you. You are my god."

He pounded into you rough and fast, the bitter burn of his fingernails digging into your sides.

"Good boy," you moaned. "That's my good boy."

Eli Sunday was no angel. His skin didn't glitter in the light of sunshine and no halo dazzled above his head. No wings like creamy cumulonimbuses spread across his back. He was deliciously human, and you drank in his body and blood like it was your last supper.

Prophet. Preacher. Lamb of the Lord. You grinned with devilish delight as you felt his milky seed drip from you.

Mine now.

#Eli's writing #Danonation #Paul Dano #Eli Sunday #There Will Be Blood #Eli Sunday x reader #Eli Sunday x you #Eli Sunday x Y/N

[doing-something-unholy]

well, i did as you asked.

last night i came so many times i lost count. i thought, why not pay a small tribute to the father and fast along with him for a little. except of course i can break it whenever i want. just the pressure of my palm on my dick was enough to make me convulse. i came as soon as i entered myself, and then i just kept going. it’d be harder to find you a moment when i wasn’t coming. 

so of course that session wasn’t enough. i work from home, and i’m not on camera often. i had my hand down my pants the whole day. when i finally got a free moment, i fucked myself again. on my knees, then ass up. thought about saying a little prayer while i did it, just for you, but my mind was otherwise occupied. 

i miss dick. you could say i’m addicted. toys and fingers are great, but they’re not quite cutting it right now. there’s this guy i keep seeing on sniffies. really hot. one of the rare face pics. lots of stubble, chest hair, treasure trail. you know. all that good stuff. uncut. that’s on his profile too, obviously. i don’t know him, but i’ve seen him around town, and every time i do, i seize up. i just want him on me. i want to know what his dick tastes like. but you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you.

there’s a bet going around town that you’re not gonna make it through lent. your escapades have had consequences, father. why do you think i came to church at all? i’d heard about the young pastor down the road whose congregation kept coming out of confessional walking funny. sometimes he’d come out walking funny himself. sometimes he’d have bruises poking out in weird places. sometimes the church wasn’t as empty as he thought it was, and he wasn’t being quiet enough. 

do you think someone’s out there right now? do you think they can hear me? think they’re getting off to this?

there was a small stain on your chasuble once. i guess you forgot to clean it off. i know, these things can be so hard to remember when you’re getting fucked stupid. poor little cumrag. was that yours or someone else’s? you’ve been wearing your robes a lot more often. it’s not hard to put two and two together. it’s lent, and you’re hiding something. how many times have you led mass with a boner under your alb? this past month? this past week?

and how many people in your congregation, do you think, are just sitting there waiting for you to pop? how many would stay to watch if i fucked you over the altar, or on those marble steps? we could all take turns.

unlike most of my neighbors, i do have faith in you. you’ll make it through lent. it’s only a few more weeks. it should be easy. 

but just to make it easier: do not touch yourself any time you hear my voice. and if you were touching yourself, stop. now. and if you can’t do it for the sake of your fast, father, then do it so i can get my money’s worth.

bitch anon :)

Ohh you're back. With quite a story to share as well. I- well- oh, Lord, where to start... I don't think you're sorry at all, and... at this point I can't blame you. Would you still say a Hail Mary for your penance at least? Any other circumstance I would ask for more but I did lead you into this.

And that man does sound... very handsome.

Uh, anyway-- I- There's really that many rumors around? Oh God I am in so much trouble. Please, this can't spread further. I'll be more subtle. How many times have I been caught?

There's a stain on the chasuble? Where did-- oh. Ohh no. I- I deserve to be called a cumrag. It... it was someone else's. And I was hoping people would see me wearing the cassock more often as a sign of respect for tradition, but... yes, it's true, it's to hide my body's reactions. The layers of the vestments hide my sin but apparently the act of hiding at all was too suspicious.

"Take turns?" I- Oh. Hmm. Would- would like to hear a confession of mine? I've thought about that so much. That if this repression went on much longer I'd- I'd whore myself out in the church and offer my body to the congregation, taking on their sins and letting them take it out on me and use me. Reversing my vows from celibacy to free use. I wish I could get "fucked stupid" more often if I'm completely honest with myself.

I wasn't touching, I promise. I know you have no reason to believe that but I promise you I wasn't. It's only a few more weeks, just a little bit longer. I appreciate your faith in me.

#confession #priest kink #heirophilia #heiro l3nt #bitch anon #🥴🥴🥴💕💕

[oh-three]

The Rookie S6E2:

NOT THAT HOUSE AGAIN ���

The complete difference between the looks on their faces is hysterical.

Those people totally did a noise complaint on themselves just to get Nolan and Celina there, and it is amazing.

HE'S JUST WALKING AWAY. 😂

Oh my god, Grey saw it 😂

Ayyy, Henry. He's definitely aged a bit since his last appearance.

Oh god, not Randy.

Pete 🤦‍♀️

Why would they leave the rings in plain sight on the table in front of them.

Aaron's got PTSD toward loud noises, I think. He definitely jumped.

There's something deeply sad about Tim not knowing how to properly talk about emotions and sort them out.

Oscar!

Not Nolan and Bailey keeping secrets from each other lol.

WHY IS MONICA EVERYWHERE.

Aaron insisting he's ready, and no one else believing him.

sigh I hate Randy.

Lopez finds Chenford so entertaining right now, and I don't blame her for going with them 😂

Nolan literally can't catch a break. Now he has to arrest the DJ lmao.

That guy is huge.

"Guess you're gonna have to fight him." LMAO. Did not waste a second with that one. Nice try, Tim.

This guy is wrecking his own place. That poor TV.

Tim is literally exhausted, but that's fair. I'm almost surprised he won, that fight was intense.

WHO MAKES FLOWERPOTS OUT OF HEROIN. That poor dog.

Lmaooo, Wesley, James, and the whole men's side of the department are helping now. And the women's side is helping Bailey. That's funny. They've both gotten that desperate.

"Run." 🤣

Tim is such a sucker for Lucy, I love him.

All in all, Nolan and Bailey are taking the revealed secrets very well.

Wesley & James 😂

Oh, there is no book club.

Ayy, Henry made it. But the pastor didn't. Ooh, Grey's gonna do it.

This is a wedding none of them are ever gonna forget lmao.

It really is crazy how far Nolan and Bailey have come, considering how they met. I'm happy for them. Even though the subreddit doesn't like Bailey.

Not James agreeing that Nyla's terrifying 🤣

Well, at least Randy's presence came in handy.

Celina and Aaron would be a cute couple, but for the sake of their jobs, they better not get together before Celina gets promoted.

I forgot about flowerpot guy.

Chenford making up ❤

Aaron's sulking and drunk. No bueno. What a coping mechanism.

Shittttt, Celina got taken.

Kinda surprised they didn't also steal the car tbh.

That's a lot of blood, man.

Ayyyy, Nolan playing undercover. For like two seconds. But, hey, effective af.

Bailey got home and literally passed out lol.

They're gonna miss the flight.

#the rookie spoilers #the rookie

[thelugubriousheart3]

There's a whole chapter on perfectionism in Bird by Bird, because it is the great enemy of the writer, and of life, our sweet messy beautiful screwed up human lives. It is the voice of the oppressor. It will keep you very scared and restless your entire life if you do not awaken, and fight back, and if you're an artist, it will destroy you.

My pastor said last Sunday that if you don't change directions, you are going to end up where you are headed. Is that okay with you, to end up still desperately trying to achieve more, and to get the world to validate your parking ticket, and to get your possibly dead parents to see how amazing you always were?

This is not going to happen. They are either so dead, like mine are, or they are insatiable, or so relieved that you did not end up divorced--or if you did, then heavily into drugs, like the Woodson girl, or more out of shape than you are, like Esther's son. It's hopeless, and this is the good news.

Putting those tiny pesky parental voices aside, what about, oh, say, the entire rest of the world?

Do you mind even a little that you are still addicted to people-pleasing, and are still putting everyone else's needs and laundry and career ahead of your creative, spiritual life? Giving all your life force away, to "help" and impress. Well, your help is not helpful, and falls short.

Look, I struggle with this. I hate to be criticized. I am just the tiniest bit more sensitive than the average bear. And yet, I'm a writer, so I periodically put my work out there, and sometimes like all writers, I get terrible reviews, so personal in nature that they leave me panting. Even with a Facebook post, like the last one, do you have any idea what it's like to get 500-plus negative attacks, on my character, from truly bizarre strangers.

Really, it's not ideal.

Yet, I get to tell my truth. I get to seek meaning and realization. I get to live fully, wildly, imperfectly. That's why I'm alive. And all I actually have to offer as a writer, is my version of life. Every single thing that has happened to me is mine. As I've said a hundred times, if people wanted me to write more warmly about them, they should have behaved better

Is it okay with you that you blow off your writing, or whatever your creative/spiritual calling, because your priority is to go to the gym or do yoga five days a week? Would you give us one of those days back, to play or study poetry? To have an awakening? Have you asked yourself lately, "How alive am I willing to be?" It's all going very quickly. It's mid-May, for God's sake. Who knew. I thought it was late February.

It's time to get serious about joy and fulfillment, work on our books, songs, dances, gardens. But perfectionism is always lurking nearby, like the demonic prowling lion in the Old Testament, waiting to pounce. It will convince you that your work-in-progress is not great, and that you may never get published. (Wait, forget the prowling satanic lion--your parents, living or dead, almost just as loudly either way, and your aunt Beth, and your passive-aggressive friends, whom we all think you should ditch, are going to ask, "Oh, you're writing again? That's nice. Do you have an agent?")

Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you're 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn't go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It's going to break your heart. Don't let this happen. Repent just means to change direction--and NOT to be said by someone who is waggling their forefinger at you. Repentance is a blessing. Pick a new direction, one you wouldn't mind ending up at, and aim for that. Shoot the moon.

Here's how to break through the perfectionism: make a LOT of mistakes. Fall on your butt more often. Waste more paper, printing out your shitty first drafts, and maybe send a check to the Sierra Club. Celebrate messes--these are where the goods are. Put something on the calendar that you know you'll be terrible at, like dance lessons, or a meditation retreat, or boot camp. Find a writing partner, who will help you with your work, by reading it for you, and telling you the truth about it, with respect, to help you make it better and better; for whom you will do the same thing. Find someone who wants to steal his or her life back, too. Now; today. One wild and crazy thing: wears shorts out in public if it is hot, even if your legs are milky white or heavy. Go to a poetry slam. Go to open mike,and read the story you wrote about the hilariously god-awful family reunion, with a trusted friend, even though it could be better, and would hurt Uncle Ed's feelings if he read it, which he isn't going to.

Change his name and hair color--he won't even recognize himself.

At work, you begin to fulfill your artistic destiny. Wow! A reviewer may hate your style, or newspapers may neglect you, or 500 people may tell you that you are bitter, delusional and boring.

Let me ask you this: in the big juicy Zorba scheme of things, who fucking cares?

[shammah8]

RHAPSODY OF REALITIES DAILY DEVOTIONAL

SENT TO TELL HIS STORY

Thursday, May 11th.

Jesus saith unto him, Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me, Philip? he that hath seen me hath seen the Father; and how sayest thou then, Shew us the Father? (John 14:9).

PASTOR CHRIS OYAKHILOME

All over the world, people praying the Name of Jesus. They preached Him on the streets and every week in churches. Some have written books about Him, sung about Him, and prophesied in His Name. But a very painful reality is that many don't know who He really is.

True, they've heard about Him, but He's not merely "a great religious leader" that many know Him as; He is God. Sadly, even among the preachers,  some only know Him as Saviour who saved us from our sins. But Jesus is much more than that. He's Himself God: the omnipotent, immortal God, living in unapproachable light of divine glory, co-equal with the Father and the embodiment of the Godhead. (Colossians 1:9; 2:9; 1 Timothy 6:14-16).

Jesus is the King of Kings Lord of all, who has all authority in heaven, in earth and under the earth. We're His witnesses, and we have to let the world know that's He's real and that he came to die as a man for all men; He was raised from the dead and lives forever. Let's get busy, telling the world about Him.

The work we're doing here on earth isn't an end in itself. One day, we would have told the last person; we would have held the last conference or the last church service; we would have completed everything He asked us to do, and then we'll hear that trumpet sound. The Lord will appear and we'll receive crowns of glory: "And when the chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away" (1Peter 5:4). Glory to His Name forever!

         PRAYER

Blessed Lord Jesus, how great you are! You're the immortal God, the King of kings and Lord of all, with all authority in heaven, in earth and under the earth. You're the Master and Ruler, one with the supreme authority and pre-eminence. I believe with all my heart and declare with my mouth that you're that's you're my Lord; you're God over all, and the One who made all things! I love you Lord!

FURTHER STUDY: John 17:3 And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.

2 Corinthians 4:5-6 For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake. 6 For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

2 Corinthians 5:18 And all things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ, and hath given to us the ministry of reconciliation; 19 To wit, that God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them; and hath committed unto us the word of reconciliation. 20 Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.

[wristful]

“ you’re still coming over for dinner tonight, right? “ / stevie and ellie

BEFORE.

the original plan is to get andrew, head to the skatepark and see what this fine saturday morning has in store for two sixteen year old boys; technically, he's still grounded for getting caught skipping biology, but mom had a last minute emergency at the base and dad is away on a trip so. who's to know if stevie takes a little sideways tour? and this would all go to plan except for the follow: andrew isn't home and ellie is and lately, things between them have been... interesting. different.

it had started about three months ago at movie night at his house. andrew had fallen asleep and they'd just been making fun of some totally stupid b-list horror movie, messing around, and then out of nowhere. they'd kissed. suddenly. quickly. a peck really, completely chaste. but it hadn't stayed that way: two weeks later, they'd ended up kissing in the garage while looking for soda while their respective families had dinner inside. and then again at school, under the bleachers.

it's new and exciting and when stevie shows up to an empty house and ellie invites him in -- well. well.

and the kissing is incredible, it's mind blowing, it's enough to completely turn his brain smooth with zero thought to when anyone might be due home or if he should be getting home (he's sixteen, for god's sake, he's only human). but then the stairs creek and. oh.

oh fuck.

ellie practically launches herself halfway across her room and stevie scrambles over himself to grab his tshirt from the floor and his shoes from under the bed and beelines to the window -- falling out of it and landing with all the grace of a bowling ball. from the window, ellie leans out (flushed red and so unbelievably pretty) and says you're still coming over for dinner tonight, right?

PRESENT.

you're still coming over for dinner tonight, right? she says it without really looking at him; she's looking at a spot over his shoulder and doesn't really seem to be expecting an answer, mouth downturned, frown in place. he's late. very late. too late to see the show or comment on the great job the gallery did or ask about any of the paintings or even see any of them. they're stood on the street with her back to the darkened gallery where the cleaners are starting to put the place back to rights. he can see people milling around and shifting things, taking some of the artwork down for packaging. it must have gone well.

his flowers are battered from the wind and rain - he'd run halfway across midtown to the last flower shop that was open in the area. the suit he's wearing doesn't fit. he reeks of cigarette smoke and beer.

he's really late. "-- i'm so sorry i missed it."

AFTER.

there are a few stragglers from the game who are thinning out and he can hear a few familiar voices; he's been cornered by one of the teachers who want to know about using the community centre for a fundraiser - for the kids who can't go to the camp, pastor steve, you know it's such an important cause and we really could use your support - and almost misses ridley on his way out. stevie ducks the conversation with a sure, thing and darts out to the floor.

willow is talking excitedly on the way out the door with andrew and izzy, dolling out offered high fives, and will is meandering in the background nearby.

stevie misses the conversation except the tail end of you're still coming over for dinner tonight, right? and though ridley nods, he wonders if there won't be a last minute emergency. stevie shakes his hand anyway and gives his brother a quick hug and when their backs are turned, far enough away, stevie kisses her. "don't worry, i can put laxatives in his sauce."

#ruinaa #sweetbittr #INT. STEVEN DANVERS. #TIME / EARLIER. #TIME / LATER. #i lov E THEM

[ralucasalmostgone]

and then there's the alternative: people I actually get along with

they'd wanna be some kind of sidekicks if I did miraculous stuff and I'm just like...my hands are full right now, dude(tte). I'd rather keep this supernatural stuff to myself thank you very much 🙄

plus

you're still less than me, less than a sidekick truth be told

you err too easily, you sin every other thought and action that is not for your neighbour's sake instead of your own

you're not perfect

I need at least the perfect as a sidekick (and that's Jesus Christ)

---

but I don't wanna make you feel like I'm abandoning you

no

that's why the churches and the Bible were made

and Christ for that matter

to feel like you always have an intermediary between you and God

(not the priests/pastors/fathers though - so don't bother with them, they're just after money etc.)

---

you got your in-between

in-between the human and the divine etc.

what more could you possibly need/want other than the confirmation that it's all true?

[theologicalish]

Biblical Inquiry

I'm going to try to remain relatively anonymous here, but here's what I'll tell you about me: You can call me Squid. I am a woman. I am 25. I am not a theologian.

This blog is for writing and reblogging about my journey into the Bible. I grew up with the Bible as my sacred text. I still want it to be my sacred text. But I don't think about the Bible at 25 the same way I thought about it at 10 or 18 or even 23.

This blog will chronicle my attempt to understand the Bible. I know I'm not meant to understand it completely. To understand everything in the Bible would be to understand God, and that's just not possible in my earthly life. I also know I am not about to say anything new -- I don't claim to have any scholarly expertise to bring to the table. But maybe, if you're interested, you can go on this exploration with me.

Here, I will ask the questions about the Bible that I have deep in my heart, the ones that might seem transgressive to people who grew up in an Evangelical denomination, like me. These questions include:

Is gay sex really a sin?

Does God recognize gay marriage?

Why is the biblical God the God I should believe in? (I frankly am pretty set on there being a God.)

Can women be pastors? Like, theologically? If not, why was Deborah allowed to be a judge in Judges?

Do people who don't know about Jesus when they die really go to Hell?

Is Hell even a real place?

What was Paul really talking about in 2 Timothy when he said he did not "suffer a woman to teach"? Why does that piss me off so much? Should I be pissed off about it? Is that allowed?

What does "biblical womanhood" really mean, for fuck's sake?

Is God/Jesus mad at me for being pro-choice?

Am I reading the Bible in a way that makes sense with what we know about it and what God tells us about His word?

Clearly, I have a lot to figure out. The question list is going to grow. But I will step forward with my faith in Christ, because I believe He is just and merciful and came to save us all.

Here's what you can do as a potential follower of this blog: You can pray for me. I don't care if you're an atheist. Please pray for me anyway. The worst thing that happens is nobody's listening. Here's a script:

Dear God,

Please help Squid find trustworthy sources to answer her questions. Please let her know the truth about You. Please sustain her in trying to be loving to everybody around her.

Amen.

#text

[princeofgod-2021]

LIGHT OF LIFE 313

John 1:4

UNITY OF THE BODY 16 – DEADLY INFILTRATION 4

1Co 1:10 I urge you, my brothers and sisters, FOR THE SAKE OF THE NAME OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, TO AGREE TO LIVE IN UNITY WITH ONE ANOTHER AND PUT TO REST ANY DIVISION THAT ATTEMPTS TO TEAR YOU APART. BE RESTORED AS ONE UNITED BODY LIVING IN PERFECT HARMONY. Form a consistent choreography among yourselves, HAVING A COMMON PERSPECTIVE WITH SHARED VALUES. TPT

Beloved, the principal devastation experienced by the Church before now, came from the “perceived” leaders of the Church.

John Huss, Martin Luther, Polycarp, Ignatius, Tyndale etc., were few amongst numerous martyrs murdered or seriously opposed for their faith, all by supposed Church leaders.

We look at Islamic rivalry today as though they’re the greatest threat, but history shows more than meets the eye.

Mat 23:29-31,34-35 You Pharisees and teachers are nothing but show-offs, and you're in for trouble! You build monuments for the prophets and decorate the tombs of good people. And you claim that you would not have taken part with your ancestors in killing the prophets. But YOU PROVE THAT YOU REALLY ARE THE RELATIVES OF THE ONES WHO KILLED THE PROPHETS….I WILL SEND PROPHETS AND WISE PEOPLE AND EXPERTS IN THE LAW OF MOSES TO YOU. BUT YOU WILL KILL THEM OR NAIL THEM TO A CROSS OR BEAT THEM IN YOUR MEETING PLACES OR CHASE THEM FROM TOWN TO TOWN. That's why you will be held guilty for the murder of every good person, beginning with the good man Abel. This also includes Barachiah's son Zechariah, the man you murdered between the temple and the altar. CEV

We may say that these are disguised agents of satan, which he “planted” in the Church, but what about Paul?

Would you say he was sent by satan or that he was merely manipulated to wreck havoc?

Hear him:

1Ti 1:13 IN THE PAST I CURSED HIM, PERSECUTED HIM, AND ACTED ARROGANTLY TOWARD HIM. However, I was treated with mercy BECAUSE I ACTED IGNORANTLY IN MY UNBELIEF. GW

Take note [again] that he was Ignorant (Hos 4:6) in unbelief.

The same way that immune Systems in Allergic situations are ignorant that they are doing the body harm instead of protecting it.

Act 9:1-2 Meanwhile SAUL, STILL BREATHING OUT THREATS TO MURDER THE LORD’S DISCIPLES, went to the high priest and requested letters from him to the synagogues in Damascus, so that if he found any who BELONGED TO THE WAY, either men or women, he could bring them as prisoners to Jerusalem. NET

But if we remain with the point of direct killings, then we will have to say that such acts were only perpetrated in the past.

I mean, we don’t have direct killings, like in the Roman Catholic era, in Church today, right?

You must realize that with the Analogy we are using, the Immune system [with Asthma] does not directly kill its own but rather [ignorantly] weakens till death by cutting off life-giving OXYGEN.

Hos 7:9 STRANGERS HAVE EATEN UP HIS STRENGTH, AND HE DOES NOT KNOW. Yea, gray hairs are here and there on him, YET HE KNOWS IT NOT. MKJV

There’s little difference between shooting a man dead or STARVING him to death.

The first is direct and fast, the 2nd is indirect and slow.

We have to look at the ways that Church leadership could indirectly and slowly kill the body without knowing it, and we need to see how it’s happening today, in our present times.

This is the central point of this study and you must be very alert now, so that there will be no doubts.

Eph 4:11-14 It was HE WHO "GAVE GIFTS TO PEOPLE"; HE APPOINTED SOME TO BE APOSTLES, OTHERS TO BE PROPHETS, OTHERS TO BE EVANGELISTS, OTHERS TO BE PASTORS AND TEACHERS. HE DID THIS TO PREPARE ALL GOD'S PEOPLE FOR THE WORK OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE, in order to build up the body of Christ. And so we shall all come together to that oneness in our faith and in our knowledge of the Son of God; we shall become mature people, reaching to the very height of Christ's full stature. Then we shall no longer be children, CARRIED BY THE WAVES AND BLOWN ABOUT BY EVERY SHIFTING WIND OF THE TEACHING OF DECEITFUL PEOPLE, WHO LEAD OTHERS INTO ERROR BY THE TRICKS THEY INVENT. GNB

This is it beloved!

The central Area, where Church Leaders, in a negative stance, can be like Asthmatic Allergies and [ignorantly] starve the body of precious Oxygen, is in the delivery of the Word of Life; in the preaching of the Gospel.

How?

Do you remember the strict warning Jesus gave Peter before He left us?

Joh 21:17 JESUS ASKED HIM A THIRD TIME, "Simon, son of John, DO YOU LOVE ME?" Peter felt sad because Jesus had asked him a third time, "Do you love me?" So Peter said to him, "Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you." JESUS TOLD HIM, "FEED MY SHEEP. GW

Let’s buttress the point by considering what Jesus stated as being the core responsibility of his Messenger.

Luk 12:42-43 The Lord answered: Who are faithful and wise servants? Who are the ones THE MASTER WILL PUT IN CHARGE OF GIVING THE OTHER SERVANTS THEIR FOOD SUPPLIES AT THE PROPER TIME? SERVANTS ARE FORTUNATE IF THEIR MASTER COMES AND FINDS THEM DOING THEIR JOB. CEV

Any Ministry boasting of Divine Mandate must acknowledge the core value and the principal commission in Ministry: Feeding the Body of Christ with the WORD, which is Jesus.

We have said a number of times – and the bible confirms too often – that God’s principal intent with the Church is to make us all like Jesus.

We cannot overemphasize this, therefore, let’s read it again please.

Rom 8:29 because those whom he foreknew HE ALSO PREDESTINED TO BE CONFORMED TO THE IMAGE OF HIS SON, that his Son would be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. NET

This analogy does not show evil leaders of old times who murdered saints in the name of heretic practices, but rather, ignorant, selfish leaders today, who should be feeding the Church the Word of Life but starve them, feeding them trash and strange food without spiritual nutrients instead, even as the body wanes and dies gradually.

They are only truly concerned about their honour and comfort, so they are blinded.

Luk 12:45 “But what if that servant says in his heart, ‘My master delays his coming, and who knows when he will return?’ Because of the delay, the servant elevates himself and mistreats those in his master’s household. INSTEAD OF CARING FOR THE ONES HE WAS APPOINTED TO SERVE, HE ABUSES THE OTHER SERVANTS, BOTH MEN AND WOMEN. He throws drunken parties for his friends and gives himself over to every pleasure. TPT

We are not done yet beloved.

Just one more part to this subtopic, as I pray for our Churches: the word of God shall have free course amongst us, and we shall be filled with the WORD Jesus, in Jesus name.

Join us on Monday for more digging in as we conclude this enlightening subtopic.

Keep Shinning!

Brother Prince

Friday, February 10, 2023

08055125517; 08023904307

[patcolborn]

"The LORD's Purpose"

My Opinion

     No one truly knows when the LORD will return. Many people has predicted the date of his return. Those dates has come and gone. JESUS said he will return. But, he never said when. There is a reason he never told us when he returns. Mostly because, there are some things we need to know (he is returning) and some we do not need to know (when he is coming). 

     I have always thought that when he returns is when we die on this earth. I believe that when you die, JESUS comes to us and either gives us an option to either come back to life to change our ways to make a better life to the point where you are worthy enough to go to heaven or takes us  to heaven with him because we believed and kept our hope, faith, and love for him. 

     What if, GOD was talking to you? How do you know he is talking to you? Every time you are in a position to choose from what is right or wrong, we all have that inner thoughts that beg us to do the right thing. Most of us has problems making that right choice. Why? Because, we are only human. Most of the time we learn from making the wrong choice. That's one reason why JESUS died on that cross for us. So that we can be forgiven of our sins. All you need to do is believe in him and ask for forgiveness.

     Why do you need to go to church? Church's main purpose to to get to know your brother's and sister's (socialism). Not to hear or preach about GOD. However, to learn about GOD and JESUS, that's what bible study classes are for. If you want to reach out to others to preach about GOD and JESUS, you need to go out in the community and do it not behind closed doors of a church. 

     I have come to believe that our body is our temple. I also came to believe that you don't need to go to church to have services. Because you are having services at any time you are talking about GOD with anyone. You don't need to go in front of everyone in a church to pray and ask for forgiveness. Because, if you think about it, JESUS always made the disciples stay back as he went ahead alone to pray. And the only time he prayed with the disciples was before they ate. He would pray to GOD to thank him  for the food that was provided.  

     I have been to several churches in my lifetime. And out of all the churches I have ever been in, I have noticed that they have one thing in common. In all the churches, they all prepare for their preaching and plan what to preach and the majority of the pastors of all churches read from their Bible. The majority of them even read from a note of some sort, word for word, their prayers at the start and end of their services. I believe, if you are gonna be a preacher, you should only read from the Bible when you are quoting a verse from the Bible and while preaching, you should preach from your heart not by preparing it. Because when you speak from your heart, it truly comes from GOD through you. And you shouldn't read from notes to pray. If you're going to pray, do it alone. Or if praying in a church as a preacher, pray from what's in your heart not from a piece of paper and for the sake of GOD, drop to your knees and pray, not standing behind an altar. 

By: Patrick Colborn

[email protected]

Published: 09-05-2021

[randynova]

Remember that small snippet I posted the other day about Priest! Doma in the modern era?

Well, how about Gyutaro and Daki being his adopted children? I think it makes sense

This is also based off a little from personal experience (*cough* my pastors' kids *cough*), but you know that saying where the most corrupted, messed up individuas are the children of religious figures? Like, depraved? Well, how about Gyutaro being one of those fucked up individuals.

How about troubled boy Gyutaro, son of the pastor, defiling you in his father's church and getting caught?

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"Ngh...! Gyu...," you whimper, clutching onto the altar, legs shaking whilst you struggle to stay up, standing on your tippy-toes as the boy laps hungrily at your dripping cunt. Your fingers dig into the side of the table as his pierced tongue nudges at your clit, quickly flicking it and drawing a high-pitched whine from you. You can hear him chuckle, earning a squeeze of your thighs,  the coolness of his rings making chills run over your skin.

God, all you could do was let your head fall,  glossy eyes staring at the crimson red surface of the velvet cover, shame blooming in your chest as you realize you’re letting a boy — the son of your pastor for goodness sake — eat you out on the same stage his father preaches the word of God to you and your family every Sunday. 

How ironic.

Gyutaro prods his pierced tongue in-between your puffy folds, flattening his tongue and slowly licking a long stripe to your entrance, snickering quietly as it draws out a long and shaky whine from his girl. He buries his face deeper between your legs, shoving the wet muscle into your slick. Long fingers dig into the plush of your parted legs, keeping them in place as they clench together around his head. 

Almost a master in the arts, spit dribbles down his chin, adding to the mess of fluids leaking from your core, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows the sweet nectar of the forbidden fruit his father preaches against ever tasting. 

A broken moan slips past your lips as you push your pelvis back and grind into his hot mouth, grounding your sopping pussy against the warm sensation you crave so much. The muscles in your leg began to twitch, seizing up as he slithers along your folds. "F-Fuck — Gyutaro! God...!" 

He hums happily, craning his neck and opening his mouth wide as he encases his lips around your clit for a moment, creating a loud lewd noise as he suckles on it. The vibrations of his mouth have you trembling and biting back another moan. Weakly mewling, you bury your face in your arm, muffling the noises that threaten to leave you.

Pulling off with a pop, the boy is dissatisfied with the lack of vocals and licks wide strokes against your folds, slowly dragging it up to your puckering hole, the steel sphere sliding so smoothly along your pussy lips, you almost missed how it slipped inside. 

You yelp at the chill, rolling your hips against his piercing. He grins against your flesh, hot breath fanning your ass as you shiver from the vibrations of his snickers. He pulls back, a chance you take to get a breather, incoherently mumbling to yourself. 

"So cute....," he mutters, pressing a chaste kiss to your cunny before delving back in.  A series of cries trickle from your mouth, picking in pitch as Gyutaro flickers his tongue vigorously, curling into all the right places whilst ignoring your pleas to stop. The coil seemed to tighten in your lower abdomen and you feared one second longer, and you're done.

Hearing such a sweet innocent girl like you crumble under his touch, chanting his name like it's the only thing you know, yet still beg for more — it's like a dream come true. It’s almost like his own version of heaven as he drowns in his favorite girl’s pussy and makes her come undone over and over again.

He pulls away and takes a good look at the sight before him, parting your cute cunt apart. Your puffy folds glistened with his spit and your slick arousal, velvet walls clenching around nothing but air, waiting for his fat cock to split you apart. Fuck, the sight alone had his mouth salivating.

 "That's my girl…,” Gyutaro drawls, tracing two cold fingers from your inner thigh to your clit, rubbing harsh, tight circles against the bundle of nerves before you could even process his words. "You can do it. I know you can, baby. Be a good little girl and cum in my mouth—" he glances up, narrowing his eyes before smiling from ear to ear, pressing his finger pads more aggressively — "Cum while looking at your savior, baby."

As he attached himself back to your cunt and continuously kneaded your bud, Gyutaro is met with a broken cry. It spurs him on, dick twitching in his slacks and pressing against his zipper. You're nodding your head frantically as you look up at the giant wooden cross in front of you, the pressure against your clit and the stretch of your walls becoming too much. Your eyes blur as you look at the marble statue of Jesus Christ, who stares down at you. 

Yet instead of shame filling your being, it's lovesick lust, too engrossed in how every swipe of your boyfriend's tongue brings you closer to the edge to even care about the promise of salvation.

The mind-numbing sensation of bliss washes over you with a sharp cry, limbs jerking  as you gush into your boyfriend's awaiting mouth. 

You fall forward, weakly holding onto the table as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Yet, Gyutaro drank your juices greedily, the strained gasps and slurps filling the empty church in a continuous rhythm of wet clicks. 

Whimpering, you try to kick him away, too sensitive to his warm mouth, a little tired from how quickly he was able to make you cum. 

Standing back on his feet, your boyfriend pants. "Mm, my good girl…,” Gyutaro groans, unbuckling his pants and hastily pushing them down his thighs. He gives his shaft a few firm pumps, running his thumb over the leaking cockhead. Gritting his teeth, he deems it enough and lines himself behind you, placing one hand onto your hips as he guides himself. 

He drags his shaft across your folds, digging his nails into your plush whilst gathering your arousal over his cock before sinking in. A gasp leaves him, the intense warmth of your cunny making him a sputtering mess for a moment. Almost struggling, he continues to sink further, thighs flexing as he shudders, hissing out your name.

In mere seconds, he bottoms out, splitting your poor pussy apart. Mewls puddled you and he could feel you spasm around him, struggling to adjust to his size. A grin rests on his pale marked face as the familiar warmth welcomes him, walls constricting around him and pushing against him 

It almost makes going a whole week without seeing you worth it.

Almost.

"Damn, I can't believe fucking Doma got a pretty thing like you to come to this goddamn cult of his...," Gyuytaro breathes, leaning over your body and moving his hips slowly. He buries his face into your hair, inhaling deeply, and letting the smell of chamomile take over. He can't help but remember how he almost bought a shampoo like it just to imagine he was with you, pumping into his fists and picturing your pretty face, imagining your cute moans as he fucks you stupid. 

"Fucking church my ass... Most people only come to see him, not listen to him—ngh… Think I don’t hear how e-everyone finds him handsome… Man, just shut the fuck up already…" He drags his cock out, only letting the tip in before slamming back into you. It rips a pitiful moan from your throat, every thrust causing small squeaks and whines to fall out of your pretty mouth. “But I’m so glad your family came here… Don’t give two fucks if they don’t like me 'cause you're all that matters to me, [Name].…”

Upon letting those words slip from his mouth, Gyutaro’s whole demeanor seems to have changed. He chuckles darkly, letting one hand travel to your waist and wrap around your stomach whilst the other trails to your throat. His fingers close around your windpipe, slowly adding pressure with every roll of his hips.The altar groaned in protest, screeching against the tiles.. "Hah... Imagine that, baby, if your daddy walks in with my old man and sees me defiling you under the Roof of God — wouldn't that be great...? See how much of a cock-hungry whore you really are, letting the pastor's son fuck you on the altar, crying and moaning like a bitch with no shame — fuck. How about that, huh? Knowing how they are, they'll make us marry and have a shitty wedding to save face, save themselves from embarrassment — wouldn't you like that, baby? Finally fuck you as my wife in our own house, fuck a kid into you n' make you a mom. Have this pussy available to me whenever I want. Hahha..."

His words fall on deaf ears as his cock runs over your sweet spot, flushed tip pressing against your cervix with every thrust, swallowing him so greedily even as he seems to be splitting your cunny apart.  The lack of oxygen has your head spinning, heighting every other sense to the point it begins to completely overwhelm you. “N..Ngh, Gyu…! P-Please…!” You can feel yourself crumbling, constricting around him.

Yet, Gyutaro only laughs and tightens his hold on your throat, digging his fingers into your tender flesh as he cranes your neck in a painful angle, feeling how your cunt barely lets him move anymore as it pushes against him.

 It makes his chest swell seeing such a good girl like you turn like a desperate whore. He wouldn’t have ever guessed it from how quiet you are. But it doesn’t matter now. He finally has you right where he wants you. He digs his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, and for a second, glances up. His azure hues widen, breath hitching in his throat as he sees the familiar car of his father on the other side of the window, but he doesn’t stop.

No, Gyutaro doesn’t stop even as he swears he hears the lock rattling. All he can focus on is the squelching of your pussy as he thrusts into you, the broken cries slipping from your mouth, and your pleading words as you reach your orgasm. once again. It only tightens the familiar coil in his lower abdomen and only then does he start to sloppily thrust into you.

He laughs in hysterics, staring up to the door, and quickening his pace. "Hhhah, I can imagine their faces now and I want to see how fucked up Doma really is...! Eyeing up my girl like that, I'll show em' who you really belong to...!" The end approaches more quickly than he anticipated and before he knew it, you call out his name and fall forward, gushing around him.

“And I’ll start with knocking you up...”

The door opens as Gyutaro releases into you, painting your fertile womb with thick ropes of white, pressing his forehead against your back. You two hear the clatter of keys as the door slams to the wall. It’s only until they shout do you two finally snap out of your trance.

“What the fuck?!”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Uhh, so yea. That was a bit long, but I hope you guys like it! I just decided to post it as a quick warm up for an essay I need to write. Get back into the swing of things.

Thank you and hope you enjoyed it!

ɴᴇxᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ

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©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜.

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#demon slayer #fanfiction #fanfiction x reader #reader insert #x reader #demon slayer gyutaro #kny gyutaro #gyutaro #kny gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro x reader #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer imagines #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kimitsu no yaiba #kimetsu manga #anime #manga #dark content #tw.smut #tw.mature #blasphemy kink #tw. religious kink

[imagine-a-dream]

Imagine Captain coming out to you.

Requested by anon. A/n: it’s my reading of the character and I feel he would not say it easily and freely, given the time he’s from and his closed nature. I tried to do my best. It's too long for imagine I got carried away, sorry. Hope you like it.

Something in his stomach was twisting and turning, making him sick. Deep inside, he knew it was impossible, and yet the feeling was so palpable that he could swear he could throw up at any moment. He was so nervous he almost felt the sweat on his forehead and palms, and even an echo of his long non-beating heart thumping in his throat.

Captain cleared his throat for the umpteenth time in the last few minutes, but still didn’t say a word. His throat felt dry, and the right words weren’t coming. Everything he thought of felt so... not right. Not him. He didn’t meet your eyes either. It was more difficult than he had originally thought.

He wanted to tell you first. That's why he invited you to his room, the only place in the house where he felt at least somewhat safe. And you were the only person (at least within the walls of this house) that he felt truly safe with. Safe to be himself, to openly speak his mind, and even laugh freely.

He cleared his throat once again. Just say it, he thought to himself. Then he took a deep breath.

"So Y/n… You might be wondering what was this important thing I wanted to tell you…"

For the first time in God knows how long, he finally locked his eyes with yours.

"I… Well, after our last group session I was thinking about myself more. It was Alison’s advice, she said it would be good to look inside of me. It will help to know and understand myself better, she said and, quite surprisingly, she was right. I have never told it to anyone. I didn't even have the courage to admit it to myself, but... Well, I guess I always knew this, somewhere deep inside of me. But back in my days this kind of… might we call it preferences. You see, it was forbidden. Even by the laws, and I’m not only speaking of God’s… Though, they say that God loves all of us, but I didn’t… I couldn’t think without a feeling that something must be wrong with me…"

He was rambling at this point, and he still didn’t know how to tell you what he wanted to tell. His hands started to shake. The anxiety crept into his heart again and gripped it with her cold hands, threatening to rip it apart.

"I never acted on my desires. Good Lord, of course not. But it didn't mean... There's a phrase that I remember the pastor said at the wedding of these two girls. I don’t remember their names, but the ceremony was beautiful, and their dresses, in my humble opinion, were very lovely. Well, that's not the point. The words stuck with me and now I understand their true meaning. "Love is beautiful," the pastor said, and now I understand that he was right, and maybe I can,"

"Captain?"

He hasn't heard your soft voice, calling for him. The words fell from his mouth, but he didn’t register the meaning behind them. Why, for God's sake, was it so difficult to just say…

“Maybe I… can finally be myself. Now that the times have changed, I’m coming to the realization that there was nothing wrong in the way I felt…”

"Captain, I… Captain."

"I want to feel... I want to be free. I wanted to tell you, but the words are not coming the right way. I guess you're wondering what is this I want to say, and I wish I could say it, but it's so difficult to find..."

"Captain!"

He stopped, startled by your voice and the sudden touch of your hand on his. He looked up (he didn’t know when he turned away from you) and met your eyes. Your loving and understanding eyes.

"I understand what you’re trying to say. I know."

Of course, you knew. You were sure every member of the Button’s House figured out the nature of the Captains… preferences at this point. But none of you pushed him to say it out loud. You personally would kill (for the second time) anyone who tried. And maybe he was still not ready, but the fact that he wanted to tell you first was incredibly touching. If you could, you would be crying now. You felt beyond honored to be the one who he trusted most.

His eyebrows knitted together, and his lips parted slightly in surprise.

He gulped visibly, "You know?"

You nodded and smiled at him.

"And I want you to know and remember that it doesn’t change anything. I understand how hard it is for you to say it out loud. And you don’t have to. Not until you’re ready. And even then, you don’t owe anyone any explanation. I love you, Cap. We all love you. And you’re right, love is beautiful, and we’re free to love whoever we want to. And, well, if we’re lucky enough, maybe the next ghost will be one of your liking, eh?"

You nudged him with your elbow lightly and he smiled for the first time. His smile was small, but it was genuine. His eyes were shining with unspilled tears from all the emotions that filled him after your words. He felt like the weight of this terrible secret that he kept all those years was lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in many years, he felt like he could breathe.

masterlist | request rules

#Ghosts #Ghosts BBC #ghosts bbc imagine #ghosts x reader #Captain ghosts #the captain ghosts #the captain x reader #ben willbond #six idiots #gender neutral reader #plus size reader

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

"Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you."

'I can't believe I'm at Will's funeral.'

"Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." The pastor continued.

I spared a glance at the people around me.

I looked to Jonathan, his head bowed, and poor Joyce who was sitting nearby.

I can't imagine what they must be going through.

Joyce was like a second mother to me, and she has always treated as if I was one of her own. I'll always be grateful for that. I lay a hand on her shoulder.

She looks up to me confused like I had pulled her deep out of her thought, upon seeing it was me she smiles thankfully. She put her hand over mine and gave it a few gentle pats and then a small stroke with her thumb to say thank you.

I smiled solemnly at her and let go, listening to the rest of the service.

"It's times like these that our faith is challenged. How, if he is truly benevolent... could God take us from someone so young, so innocent?"

I looked down at my feet.

"It would be easy to turn away from God... but we must remember that nothing, not even tragedy, can separate us from His love."

I felt a nudge on my shoulder and turned to look at Dustin. He wore a sly smirk as he looked to his right, past me and Mike.

Frowning in confusion, I turned my head to see what he was smirking about.

"Just wait till we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral." Dustin said cheekily.

I scoffed under my breath, rolling my eyes.

"Since when has she cared about Will? She couldn't even get his name right, remember that week she called him Bill?" I huffed, crossing my arms in distaste.

The boys smirked at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Somebody jealous?" Lucas smirked.

"No-! Not ev- Shut up!" I scowl.

The boys giggle earning more than a few concerned and offended glances making me smile to myself. Mrs. Wheeler leaned down and shushed the boys making me smirk more.

'Serves them right.'

Soon enough, the casket had been lowered into the growd and roses had been thrown on top. I made my way to the very side of the grave, looking down.

"I know you're not dead. But I swear to God, if you don't come back I'm gonna kill you." I muttered to the casket in the ground.

As people began to filter out, we watched as Mike's mom said her condolences to Will's parents.

"I'm so, so sorry."

"Oh, thank you so much for coming." Will's dad said.

I never liked him.

Joyce was just standing by herself quietly, her arms crossed looking down at the grave.

"Yeah, if there's anything we can do..." Mr. Wheeler offered, shaking the man's hand.

"I appreciate it. Thank you so much."

I said goodbye to Lucas who had to follow his parents out, even though we would be seeing him later at the wake. I did the same with Mike, and soon enough Mom was waiting for us so we could get to the car.

"Mom, will you give me a minute?"

"Of course, Pumpkin," She smiled at me with sympathy.

I turned around wove through the crowd that had separated me from Joyce. I tapped her on the shoulder, seeming to jostle her from her thoughts a second time.

Upon seeing it was me, she smiled.

"Hi, Ms. Byers."

"Oh, hi Y/n. Thank you, for coming, sweetheart," She smiled.

I captured her in a bear hug and she gladly reciprocated, giving my several comforting strokes.

"Of course. I'm so, so sorry for your loss." I said, letting her go.

"Oh, thank you, honey. T-Tell me, how have you been holding up?" She asked gently.

My eyes welled up.

"I'm not gonna lie, it's- it's been really hard. I just, I just miss him so much. Your son was such a good person. Always a gentleman." I knew what I was saying.

Even if he is alive for sure, everything I said was true. He always has been nothing but kind to me.

Not to mention, I owe him for so much.

She seemed extremely thankful for hearing that and I was glad I could make her genuinely smile on this sad day.

"Really? Oh sweetie, thank you. That means, just so much to me."

I look back to my mom and brother waiting for me by the car, and I return my gaze back to Ms. Byers.

"Um, I better go. My mom is waiting for me. I guess I'll be seeing you at the wake. Goodbye, Ms. Byers."

"Thank you again, Y/n. I'll see you later, okay?" Her face slightly fell and she smiled at me.

I nod and begin walking backward sending a small wave her way before turning around a breaking out into a small jog to catch up to my mom.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Being at the funeral of your best friend is daunting and quite surreal.

Being at the funeral of your best friend who is quite possibly alive in another dimension and you and only four other people know this is a completely different ballpark.

We had all met up at the wake and regrouped.

The plan was to ask Mr. Clarke if there was anything he could tell us about the theories regarding alternate dimensions. I'm just praying that we don't arouse suspicion given the setting.

"Mr. Clarke?" The tall man turned his attention away from the buffet to look at us.

Mr. Clarke smiled sympathetically. "Oh, hey, there."

The somber look came easily to my face as I looked to Mr. Clarke, Mike, and Lucas on either side of me while Dustin was digging into the buffet.

"How are you kids holding up?"

Lucas speaks up for us, slightly distracted by Dustin's blatant chewing. "We're... in... mourning."

"Man, these aren't real Nilla Wafers," Dustin sighed, shaking his head.

My eyes widen softly, and I look to Mr. Clarke trying to cover for him.

"You'll have to excuse my brother, Mr. Clarke, he's-" I stop midsentence to see him happily munching on more snacks, and look back to Mr. Clarke. "well, he mourns in his own... special way."

"We were wondering if you had time to talk?" Mike asked, wanting to move things along as quickly as possible.

"We have some questions," Lucas added.

I shook my head in agreement. "A lot of questions, actually,"

Mr. Clarke complied and the four of us found ourselves at the nearest table, asking our teacher about other dimensions at our "dead" friends' wake. Not something I ever could have imagined doing.

"So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Segan talks about other dimensions? Like, beyond our world?"

"Yeah, sure. Theoretically." Mr. Clarke replies, noticeably confused at the subject of our questions.

"Right, theoretically,"

"So, theoretically, how do we travel there?" Lucas asked.

"You guys have been thinking about Hugh Everett's Many-World's Interpretation, haven't you?" A ghost of a smile on our teacher's face.

"Yeah," I chuckled, nodding my head in response.

The boys looked at me, wondering why I had said that.

I gave them a look that said, 'I don't know, just go with it.'

"Well, basically, there are parallel universes. Just like our world, but just infinite variations of it. Which means there's a world out there where none of this tragic stuff ever happened," I found myself nodding along, not for the sake of being believable, but actually lost in the idea.

"Yeah, that's not what we're talking about," Lucas sighed, leaning back.

"Oh."

"We were thinking of more of an evil dimension, like the Vale of Shadows. You know the Vale of Shadows?" Dustin asked, taking another loud bite of his off brand Nilla Wafers.

Not thinking that our science teacher would know anything about Dungeons and Dragons, I was completely taken aback by his next words.

"An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic–"

"Yeah, exactly." Mike said cutting him off.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"If that did exist - a place like the Vale of Shadows - how would we travel there?"

"Theoretically, of course." I add.

"Well..."

Mr. Clarke grabbed an empty paper plate and pulled out a pen from his jacket pocket. He then drew a straight line across the paper plate as he spoke, creating a visual for us.

"Picture... an acrobat..." He drew a small stick figure on top of the lines. "standing on a tightrope. Now, the tightrope is our dimension. And our dimension has rules."

He began drawing arrows on either side of the acrobat.

"You can move forwards, or backwards. But, what if..." He drew a very small creature under one of the arrows. "right next to our acrobat, there is a flea? Now, the flea can also travel back and forth, just like the acrobat. Right?"

"Right." We all agreed.

"Here's where things get really interesting. The flea can also travel this way... along the side of the rope." He drew arrows indicating the flea's direction around and under the rope, causing me to furrow my brows. "He can even go underneath the rope."

The boys and I all shared the same look before returning our gaze to Mr. Clarke. "Upside Down."

"Exactly."

Mike spoke up. "But we're not the flea, we're the acrobat."

"In this metaphor, yes, we're the acrobat."

"So we can't go upside down?" Lucas asked warily.

"No."

"Well, is there any way for the acrobat to get to the Upside Down?"

"Well," Our teacher furrowed his brows, a thoughtful look coming upon his face. "you'd have to create a massive amount of energy. More than humans are currently capable of creating, mind you, to open up some kind of tear in time and space, and then..."

He folded the paper plate in half, creasing it shut before shoving his pen directly through both sides of the paper plate. "you create a doorway."

"Like a gate?" My brother asked eagerly.

"Sure. Like a gate. But again, this is all–"

"Theoretical." I smile, nodding my head.

"But... but what if this gate already existed?" Mike asked, timidly.

"Well, if it did, I... I think we'd know. It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole."

Mike seems to gauge our reactions, and I'm the only one who met his eye with an equally uncertain gaze.

"Science is neat." Mr. Clarke continued. "But I'm afraid it's not very forgiving."

We all lean back, digesting the information.

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #y/n henderson #eleven #el hopper #mr. clarke #joyce byers #lonnie byers #jonathan byers #claudia henderson #cosmic #st #st 1x05 #1x05 #the flea and the acrobat #stranger things x reader #x male reader #male reader #x m!reader #x reader #m!cosmic