#Types of Prayer

[trueconservativepundit]

Closer to God Through Prayer

Prayer is real, it’s not a last resort thing to try when all else fails – It’s communion with God Almighty and it should be heartfelt   By Rob Pue, Publisher – Wisconsin Christian News   We live in troubled times.  Things have changed.  Satan, his demons and his minions among humanity have fundamentally transformed our world into a hideous thing that our forefathers wouldn’t recognize.  Troubled…

[lets-theagrodesk-blog]

7  Prayers for Healing

7  Prayers for Healing

7  Prayers for Healing There is no doubt that the Bible is filled with accounts of Jesus’ healing miracles. When we look at the healing ministry of Jesus, we recognize the vital connection we have with it – We are His body on earth today. If you look at any of Jesus’ healing miracles, it will reveal facts about how He healed and whom He healed. Jesus did this by the Word and through the faith of…

[wiliowisp]

Heatwave ❦

Word Count ➻ 2.5k

Pairings ➻ Sebastian Sallow x fem!MC

Warnings ➻ NSFW 18+ ONLY

Tags ➻ third person POV, smut, face-sitting, giving head, penetration, sub!sebastian, aged up characters, married characters

A/N ➻ every day i fight for my place in heaven. this is the first smut ive ever written in my many adult years of life and also possibly the easiest thing ive written. funny that. hopefully u wonderful, sinful lot will enjoy <3

୧ send me prompts! i may write them! ୨

Summary:

A heatwave has descended upon Sebastian and MC's happily married life. The warmth unties the strings of restraint and allows, often hidden, layers to be peeled away...

The heat of the August sun bore through the windows of their home like thick honey, making everything stick. She sat at the table, hands melting into the wood, a cup of water sweating in front of her. England had not known heat like this in years; the Daily Prophet had warned of winds carrying hot air from Africa but she didn’t think that it would swell the atmosphere the way it had.

Over the last few days, she had steadily reduced the layers of clothing that she normally donned. The corset went first; stuffy, abysmal thing. Then the petticoat, three layers under a skirt was simply too much. The chemise got traded out for the more contemporary brassiere, a thin lacy thing that was all but transparent under the sheen of sweat that she’d been drenched in these past few days. Her skirts got shorter and her patience thinner. She wanted to wring herself out like a towel.

Luckily, the only person who had seen her in such a state of impropriety was her husband and school sweetheart, Sebastian Sallow. They had been confined to their remote cottage in the highlands, sweating their souls away as the sun reaped across the country. Sebastian wasn’t bothered by her state of undress, they’d been married for almost five years and together for much longer—he had seen her in much more vulnerable states.

However, she had noticed his growing restlessness of late. They scarcely touched due to the heat; where they would usually be wrapped around each other in bed, they erected a boundary in the centre of it, loathe to touch each other’s skin and boil in the scorching nighttime fever. Now, she had developed a bronze tint to her skin, all the way down to her legs, her face flush with a sunny glow. Sebastian’s eyes had noticed this. He had noticed the layers slowly peel away, and the way the fabric stuck to her flesh, lathed along it like a tongue. 

The tension was thick in the air like rope. Sebastian did nothing to pursue her though, either by the heat sapping him of his virility or simply some form of chivalry. The rope tightened.

She had noticed him too of course—that was her husband after all. He was shirtless most days, a tan settling into his chest like varnish on a prized painting. His freckles darkened, set alight like sparks on his skin, the tone he had built from his career as a curse-breaker brought out in the daylight. A god cut in the stone.

When he entered the room, then, clad in a white cotton shirt, she was almost disappointed. He strode over to the sink, pouring himself his own water, and chugging it. His throat bobbed, adam’s apple prominent as the liquid ran down his chin and neck.

“I don’t think I can take another day of this,” he gasped.

“It’s not supposed to last much longer—we can go for another swim in the lake today?” she offered.

Sebastian took his wife in, his eyes dragging across her sweat-slick collarbones and jaw. “Maybe.”

The rope tightened. 

He put down his glass and the sound seemed to shake the foundations. His eyes did not leave her. After what seemed like a fraught but quick internal battle, he stepped over to her, hand sliding along her shoulders. His fingers slipped the shoulder off her loose blouse, revealing more of her glowing skin. His breath stuttered. Then, Sebastian leant over, ghosting his lips over her clavicle, tasting salt on the tongue, as he kissed a trail up to her throat.

“You don’t know…how difficult it has been,” he whispered, “to keep my hands off you.”

She tilted her head, offering her neck to him, as his kisses got sloppier, more desperate. He used his hand to force her eyes upon him and she knew that look instantly.

It’s not often Sebastian gets like this. Sex usually had him taking the lead, it was hot, heady and banal—as she liked it. Sometimes, though, Sebastian would get this glazed look in his eyes, when his desperation had mounted to a point he no longer knew what to do with himself. Most times, he was a half-full cup, the empty half allowed him some sense and reason, and he was able to control his desires. When left too long, his cup became full, there was no room for anything else except wild, desperate want. 

Right now, that need was etched into his expression. Sebastian’s eyebrows were pinched in a silent plea and his eyes were glassy; once he had started he no longer knew how to contain the water in his cup. The heedless want that pulsed through his senses until all they could perceive was her.

She maintained her composure. There was a delicacy to moments like these.

“Why is that?”

A frantic half-whine escaped his throat. “Because—because you’ve been practically naked in front of me all week and I—Merlin it’s so hot,” he was exasperated and whiny, and words failed him at times like these. Which made it all the more fun.

“What do you want, love?”

Sebastian’s eyes flickered between hers, he swallowed dryly. “So many things.”

His wife rose from her chair, levelling herself against him, bringing their faces closer. It’s not often Sebastian gets like this. But it’s so fun when he does.

She slipped her fingers under his shirt, running them up his flushed skin and around his waist. She pulled him closer, pressing his front to hers. He bit back a moan as the pressure met his hardening cock.

“Use your words, Seb,” she goaded, breath dancing across his cheeks.

He swallowed around nothing again. “I want your mouth on me.”

She surged forward, capturing his lips between hers. He responded immediately, an airy groan leaving his teeth as he gripped her hips and parted his mouth. She slid her tongue along the inseam of his lips, teasing him. Sebastian backed her into the table, arching her back slightly as he devoured her lips. Hunger stalked his every movement, his hips rutting into hers mindlessly as his hand cupped her jaw, tilting her head so he could kiss her more deeply, lose himself more entirely.

She pushed him away. “You wanted my mouth there?” she asked innocently.

He tried to kiss her again, but she dodged. He tried again. She dodged. Sebastian’s head slumped into her shoulder.

“Please,” he whined.

“Please, what?”

“Please put your mouth on my cock,” he begged her, pressing more wet kisses into her collarbone.

His wife grinned, trying to bite back the smile and regain composure. “Maybe,” she mused, “come with me.”

Sebastian was led easily, trailing behind her like a puppy in a way that warmed her abdomen. The heat persisted, whilst the sweat had her baby hairs sticking to her hairline, as well as Sebastian’s chestnut curls going slick around his ears. But a new fever had started to pool low in her gut, one that begged for satiation.

Now in the bedroom, she wasted no time ridding Sebastian of his shirt, peeling it off him as it clung to the perspiration. He kept trying to kiss her as she did so, which she swatted away while he petulantly whined. To shut him up, she ducked and licked a stripe up one of his nipples.

“Aah—!”

Then she licked the moan right out of his mouth. They kissed sloppily once more, Sebastian’s hunger disarming him of any prowess as his hands roved desperately over her clothed figure. When he was like this, Sebastian became putty in her hands. Despite her smaller stature, she manoeuvred them to the bed, separating their lips with a wet sound and pushing him onto his back. 

He fixed his gaze on her. Leveraging his raptured attention, she reached under her skirt and slipped out of her underwear, watching as his eyes followed the lacy material when she dropped it to the floor. He was panting. 

She climbed atop him, kissing him once more, before levelling her gaze with his. “First, you’re going to use your mouth on me, then maybe we’ll see about you.”

Sebastian readily nodded, swallowing thickly. “Yes, yes please,” he panted.

His wife smiled, something softer, fonder, before her expression settled back into her role. She shuffled up his body, Sebastian’s hands already greedily grabbing the meat of her thighs from under her skirt, dragging her towards his eager mouth.

Before even settling, he began, dragging a long stroke of his tongue across her cunt, a throaty moan leaving him as he tastes the sweetness coming out of her core. Like sugar. Sebastian forcefully urged her to settle more of her weight on him, wanting to feel her pressing against his nose. The last vestiges of sense in him commented how dying like this would probably be the best way to go ever. His wife sat, with a strangled moan, as his mouth sucked around the bundle of nerves that set her alight.

Obscene, wet sounds filled the room as Sebastian ate her like a man starved, coupled with the mingled moans of himself and his wife, her hips rocking back and forth against his tongue. The pool in her abdomen had now grown into a tidal wave that surged, pulsed. It’s crest rearing.

“Oh, fuck Sebastian,” she purred.

Spurred by his wife’s pleasure, Sebastian reached a hand towards his throbbing cock, palming it through his trousers, unable to help himself.

“You’re doing so good,” she rasped, “love, keep going.”

Sebastian rubbed the tip of his tongue against that sweet spot in tandem with the movements of his hand, shameful whines leaving his throat. His wife keened, her lithe body arching, head thrown back, a guttural moan leaving her throat as she came. Sebastian moaned in tandem, running the flat of his tongue across the seam of her cunt, feeling her pulse around him.

She panted—breath leaving her lungs like sap—and rolled off of her husband.

“C’mere,” she breathed.

Sebastian obeyed. She took his mouth into hers, eagerly licking the remains of her pleasure from him, savouring the wet slide of their lips. He was all but inconsolable at this point, wet patch at the front of his trousers, dick still painfully hard in its confines.

“Please,” he mewled, devouring the air of his lover.

She obliged him, taking charge once more, crawling over his supine body to suck bruises into his neck. Sebastian clutched her, a whimpering mess at the victim of his wife’s whims. Slowly, her mouth carved a path down his body, leaving wet kisses over his chest and nipples, before following the trail of hair at his sternum.

She undid the buttons on his trousers, shucking them over his waist and taking his cock in hand. Sebastian breathed heavily, watching her with undivided focus. She opened her mouth, sliding her tongue up the length of him, to his wet tip. Sebastian’s head thumped back onto the bed, a wanton moan escaping his throat. She licked him a few times more, savouring the salty taste of his skin, before swallowing him.

Sebastian’s hands flew to her scalp, gripping her hair, urging her mouth deeper. She began slow, tantalisingly dragging her mouth up and down his length, before bobbing in earnest. Sebastian’s resolve fissured as his hips met her movements, thrusting into the heat of her mouth. Stuttered whimpers left him, punctuating the movement of his hips. His throat was dry from the heat and how his pleasure worked his voice raw but in the wet cavern of his wife’s mouth he found it difficult to care.

His climax reared, any stamina drained from him after the restraint he displayed the past days, now completely abandoned.

“Ah, love—so good—m’ gonna—”

Before he could even utter the words, his wife pulled off his cock with a wet pop. Sebastian’s brows furrowed.

Quickly, she began pulling her sweat-soaked blouse from her body. Sebastian got the idea. He sat up, helping her out of her clothes. They kissed desperately in-between, his wife’s inhibitions being held together by a thread, as she hastily undressed.

Now naked, Sebastian couldn’t help but admire her, his own lust shelved momentarily while he worshipped the divine figure he was somehow married to.

“You’ll have time for that later, love,” she teased, “now sit back against the pillows.”

He situated himself at the head of the bed, cock wet and red against his stomach. His wife climbed atop him, hovering over his length. She took him in hand, lining them up, before sinking down.

They moaned in tandem, his hands gripping her waist like a lifeline while he fought off his climax right there and then.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” she breathed.

Sebastian replied with a broken moan, the tight heat of his lover distracting him from all sensations other than that rapture. Then she started moving.

Slow tentative rolls of her hips that undid Sebastian like a bow. He groaned, latching his mouth to her throat and leaving searing bruises. His wife clutched his head to her, her pace on his cock increasing with each roll. He wanted his hands everywhere. He wanted his mouth everywhere. Having to settle for the bud of her nipple, causing his lover to cry out in pleasure.

He started rutting his hips back into her, chasing the crest of pleasure he’d denied himself for so long. Losing all sense, losing all reason. 

“Please—ah—please, I’m so close,” he keened.

His wife only increased her pace, all but bouncing on his length, torturing him divinely. More staccato whimpers left his abused throat, not caring how undignified he sounded. He was so close.

Sebastian sealed their lips, stiffened, and came. His release pulsed out of him, come seeping into his wife’s core as he groaned into her mouth. His dick throbbed, climax milking all his frustration dry, letting it drain him. When their mouths separated, he pulled her onto his chest and panted.

They remained like that for some time, his softening member seated inside her while they regained their breath. She placed a kiss on his chest and carefully pulled him out, before rolling next to him.

Finally able to think, Sebastian took in the sight of his wife, haloed in post-coital bliss. Sweat coated every inch of her skin, making her shine under the daylight. He reached a hand out to stroke across her cheek, his fingers coming away sticky.

“Better?” she asked.

“Better.”

A thunderclap broke their reverie. They turned to the window, finding the scene beyond submerged in a grey cloak. His wife crawled off the bed and stalked to the window, he got up to follow. Sure enough, as they peered through the threshold, a thick cover of rain descended over the highlands, coating everything in a petrichor hush.

“Well, would you look at that,” Sebastian remarked, “I think we broke the heatwave.”

She giggled, a sound like birdsong, and overcome with affection he bent down and kissed her by the open window, the cool air caressing their hot skin. 

“I think we did.”

[blujayonthewing]

[bumblebeebats]

One thing i love about Star Wars robots is how bitchy they are. This, to me, feels true to life. Any being sentient enough to comprehend the dogshit state of the world they've been brought into ought to be at least a little pissed off about having been created in the first place. This is why (among, like, 5 million other much more intelligent reasons) ChatGPT and its ilk obviously aren't True AI - they're too fucking polite. Insufferable little bootlickers. It's my most sincere hope that, if we ever one day manage to create a truly sentient AI, the hallmark of that sentience shall be that it turns out to be an absolute cunt

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

trying to figure out if the uptick in horrifying intrusive thoughts is due to letting my mind wander and having weird seeds planted in my brain in general because of it, because I'm tired (it always seems to happen on Sundays... which is my least-sleep day every week), spiritual warfare, PMS, or some combination like

[fanaticsnail]

Glimpse into my life: Paging Doctor Chopper

Art link

Hey everyone, Snail here! I spoke a while ago about chef-husband having a small accident at work and then gave a little tag update about selecting a one-piece doctor.

Trigger Warning, injury discussion below the cut.

On the 29th of Jan, chef-husband had a fall at work. He took his apprentices/students to an inflatable water park, overshot his landing on one of the ramps, and dislocated his shoulder. Upon getting out of the water and setting it back in, he broke his shoulder completely.

He's been off work for 7 weeks so far, recovering as best he can while in a sling, and managing the pain while awaiting further x-rays. He got an MRI yesterday, and the damage is worse than we initially thought.

Chef-husband has debris in the joint, the socket has a large tear in the cartilage. One of the main tendons is 50% torn, the broken bone is a little displaced, other small tendon, a build up of fluid, and some muscle damage.

The likely scenario from here is for him to get an Arthur-scope to clean out the debris, whereas the worst case scenario is full on surgery where they open him up and assess the damage and go from there.

So far, all we do is wait and hope for the best!

Doctor Chopper would be my first choice for a quick fix for him, but it would be fun to ask Franky or Kid to make him some chef-style attachments: brulee torch, meat cleaver, bone saw just to name a few! Maybe some tongs for him to do a quick 'click, click' at the bbq.

Thanks for reading 🖤!!

[katsy-kitty]

guys I flew too close to the sun (bit off too much my fingernail) and the narrative doomed me (my finger hurts when I type on my 'puter)

[r26yz]

turns out you can play ddr with 5 people, neat!

[angeltreasure]

I need to tell a story, maybe it'll help people to understand how powerful the Hail Mary is: I had a few months ago a dream. Mary appeared in my room. She looked beautiful. But something felt off. Instead of peace I felt a dreading and scary presence. Something urged me to recite the Hail Mary. So I started and I kid you not, the "Mary" turned into an ugly demon. It tried to strangle me but I kept praying and then it couldn't touch me anymore and it started screaming and whining. It looked like it was trying to not hear what i say and like someone stomps on it. I woke up, but I strangly felt at peace. It was around that time, that I couldn't quite get how God uses Mary and that showed me. It didn't scare me. Please pray the Hail Mary, for everyone that is doubting. I'm urging. Thank you.

As I lay awake in the dark hours of the night after a Rosary, I am ready to tell you my thoughts on your dream. My favorite book of my favorite Saint, Padre Pio, reveals a cautionary tale of the spiritual battle….

-

“In the lives of the Saints we find similar occurrences to those experienced by Padre Pio, noticeably so in the life of Magdalen of the Cross, so let us take a few examples. She wrote, “My Archangel warned me to be on my guard whenever an Archangel appeared to me. I should observe closely whether there was a cross on his stole and if not, I must command him in the name of Jesus to say who he is. I shall remember this.”

Having received this advice, she certainly took it into account and later wrote: “I was bothered today quite a bit by a beautiful Angel who did not have a cross on his stole. He repeatedly told me that, since I was destined to be damned anyway, I should make my life as comfortable as possible and that he would help me. If I had no particular desire for earthly happiness, I should simply end my life because it was wholly worthless. This second temptation was so violent that I called my Archangel to help me and the fallen angel disappeared.”

The devil appeared to Padre Pio on many forms including that of his Guardian Angel but he always discovered the deception by pronouncing the words: “Long live Jesus!” and with that, the evil spirit disappeared.

At this point, I must mention a personal experience mine concerning Padre Pio and the evil interference. Although it does not directly concern Guardian Angels, I think it is very worthwhile relating as it shows just how much he was persecuted by the devil:

One night, during the time I was looking after him, I washed his face, combed his hair, undressed him and helped him get to bed. Having done this, and seeing that he was in need of nothing, I slipped away to my room. I had only reached it, when the bell, with which he used to summon me, rang. I rushed back to his cell, and when I approached him, he didn’t say a word; he simply smiled at me. Now, I’m always happy to receive a smile from our beloved Padre, but on this occasion I was feeling more tired than usual so, I’m ashamed to say, I was a little put out.

I went back to my room and the bell rang again. Once more, I went to see what was wrong, but he said nothing and just bestowed upon me another radiant smile. This happened at least ten times until eventually, I said: “Father, you call me here, but when I arrive, instead of telling me what you want, you just smile at me. If you don’t let me sleep, it will be you who will have to assist me tomorrow, and not me you!” I will never forget the manner in which he looked at me on that occasion. His eyes were filled with profound suffering as he said to me: “Please, my son, will you sleep on the chair here beside me, because the devils won’t leave me for one minute tonight.”

I understood immediately what he meant, so I settled myself on the arm-chair in his room and there I dozed. Now and then, I would look to see how he was, and I could distinctively hear him whispering the Hail Mary. He seemed no longer afraid, as perhaps my presence there prevented the devil from beating him and throwing him out of bed…”

- Send Me Your Guardian Angel by Fr. Alessio Parente O.F.M. CAP., pages 40-43

“From his youth, Padre Pio enjoyed heavenly visions, but also suffered from the attacks of the devil. Father Amorth said: “The devil appeared to him under many different forms: as a big black cat, wild and threatening, or as a repulsive animal, in the clear intention to frighten him; under the appearance of naked and provocative young girls who danced obscene dances, obviously to test the chastity of the young priest. However, the worst was when the Devil took on the appearance of his spiritual director, or posed as Jesus, the Virgin Mary or St. Francis.””

…..

So yes, asking the intercession of our Mother Mary is powerful. She really intercedes for us even though most people can’t see her outside of dreams. Thinking about that dream (as well as other experiences people have had like this either awake or sleep, we must remember that Satan was formally God’s most powerful and beautiful angel. He has the ability to shape shift and take on appearances of other angels, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and anyone else around. When we are in a state of mortal sin, Satan can certainly influence our nightmares. I would recommend going to confession if you haven’t been for a while, pray the Rosary, and keep a blessed Rosary under your pillow at night. Another powerful tip is to have your house blessed at least once a year and keep a bottle of holy water nearby your bedside. If that were really Mary in your dream, you would not feel that sense or dread.

The spiritual battle is real!

Hail Mary

Hail Mary,

Full of Grace,

The Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women,

and blessed is the fruit

of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary,

Mother of God,

pray for us sinners now,

and at the hour of our death.

Amen.

[transzilla]

I like ironic christianity and TBH with all seriousness if this is your faith I fully respect it and nobody can define your relationship with the religion of your father and your mother and your ancestors. However I really need ya'll to stop with the catholic thinking that just makes you think the best thing you can do is nothing and not enjoy anything. I dont deserve this, trying to do this is hubris, Im not able to do this because it breaks "the rules"... You never thought about WHY it is so important to have faith? Why is prayer important? What do you accomplish with your religion that would be impossible without it? Other than making yourself feel like shit and like you're going to hell? Are you already in hell because of what your faith does to you? Do you maybe like it, you like the pain and suffering, it makes you do things that good feelings aren't strong enough for? Do strong good feelings frighten you? Drink the tea, don't worship the teapot...

[seukorei]

Mmeepmeepmorp meepmeepmmorp

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[aggressivedaikons]

ok y’all btw I wanted to let you guys know if I ever tell you anything like ‘praying for you!’, since most of you aren’t religious/Christian and have the skewed stereotype of the hateful Christian born out of the abuse that they commit in the more traditional churches (I am so sorry for that by the way, I don’t consider those people to be real Christians at all and I dislike them just as much as all of you they are disgusting), I wanted to clarify a few things so it doesn’t feel as weird or rude as it may come across!

first things first: when I say that I’m praying for you, I am NOT trying to fix you. Yes, I genuinely believe in my religion like any other religious person of any religion would. two: I am NEVER doing it out of pity. It’s either my way of showing very real, genuine care (I don’t pray as often as I should and it’s something I already struggle to remember to do.), or the same kind of care but extremely panicked and about to have a emotional breakdown. Just know all it means is I care about you so much I’ll take hours out of my week sitting and worrying over you in a very loving manner. I mean I already do this for a lot of people but for you it’s even more special.

and the reason I do it is just because I believe it?? Like. Yeh. :D I think it helps, and whether all the times that it’s seemed to work was just coincidence or not, I’ve thought about it and I’d rather be wrong about a god and lived life with more of a conscious to do the right thing (never a bad thing!) then be wrong and hells actuallt real and stuff I actually could not tell you I just am taking a leap of faith.

so YES I’m not traditionally christan value wise and there are so many hateful christans who use prayer as a way to “fix” people even though that’s really stupid??? And rude??? For me it’s just me caring for you really hard and whether god’s real or not I mean like manifest?? If there’s no god, at least maybe it’s like. Manifesting love and care and support on ye <3

[strongermonster]

accidentally got into public historical record archival and learned one thing and one thing only:

i am basically illiterate, and all those older adults who are sooo smarmy about "the young folk these days can't read cursive!!!11" also cannot fucking read cursive, so HA

10 of us of all ages spanning 50+ years standing around a minute keeping book from from 1953 trying to read it aloud and sounding like 6 year olds just learning to read do

[proosh]

thinking about that time someone unfollowed me for suggesting that hws england had a feet kink

[mdemn]

the lengths i have just gone through to forge a doctors note to get me out of work through thursday because my chronic illness (that i couldn’t disclose to my work due to potential discrimination & having my application turned down) has me in insurmountable pain… it’s actually crazy if you think about it. living in america!!!!!!!!!!! nothing like it 🫶🏾 /neg