#internet scripture

[the-most-humble-blog]

[headedfawn]

seriously, if you goblins don’t use internet archive , y’all missing out on amazing things like this ✨

[martyrdoll]

wow you internet people really suck sometimes tbh

[bills-bible-basics]

THE INTERNET: OUR FINAL FRONTIER; YOUR LAST CHANCE? -- a Bill's Bible Basics article #Christian #BibleStudy #Jesus This Bill’s Bible Basics article by Bill Kochman can be read at: https://www.billkochman.com/Articles/internet.html https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/the-internet-our-final-frontier-your-last-chance-a-bills-bible-basics-article/?THE%20INTERNET%3A%20OUR%20FINAL%20FRONTIER%3B%20YOUR%20LAST%20CHANCE%3F%20--%20a%20Bill%27s%20Bible%20Basics%20article

[g-dsyndr-me]

If you have bad Internet, my bad I was a little grumpy. That or you were pissing me TF off.

Ooooor you're just fun to mess with

[the-most-humble-blog]

[seserakh]

From left to right, top to bottom:

de Buck, Adriaan (1956) The Egyptian Coffin Texts VI, Spells 472-787

Faulkner, Raymond O. (1977) The Ancient Egyptian Coffin Texts II, Spells 355-787

Allen, James P. (1988) Genesis in Egypt

Allen, James P. (2003) Context of Scripture

[infamousbrad]

I warned you.

About 15 years ago, I had a minor moment of Internet fame when I wrote a lengthy essay series on LiveJournal called "Christians in the Hand of an Angry God." In it, I argued that right-wing evangelical "Christianity" was literally Satanic by scriptural standards, was literally the cult of anti-Christ that Jesus prophesied in Matthew 25:31-46, that they were literally worshiping a made-up guy with the same name to justify cruelty, just like Jesus predicted they would the week before the crucifixion.

And at least half of the people who read it and praised it called it excellent satire. They saw my point, thought I was onto something, but couldn't take seriously that I literally meant what I literally said.

"Do not commit the sin of empathy."

Jesus' prophesy that these people were coming was not especially miraculous, in hindsight. No philosophy or theological movement becomes a large organized church, let alone a majority faith of a nation, without needing rich people's money, and/or government funding, to pay for it all.

And rich people in general, and right-wing governments in general, get to be the way they are by believing that the poor and the down-trodden can never be shown anything but cruelty, should never be rewarded, or else they'll lose all motivation to obey, to work hard, to be good. (By contrast, they believe that the same thing would happen to rich, powerful, popular people if they were ever punished in any way, if they were ever anything but rewarded.)

And rich people and governments are not going to subsidize your church foundation funds, your church repair funds, et cetera if you tell them that they're evil. But someone definitely will come along and offer to take that money. The people who take that money and conform won't even all be lying psychopaths; if you truly believe that your organization matters, is doing irreplaceable good in the world, you'll sacrifice any principle of your faith to keep the bills paid, you'll look away from or excuse any sin. It's that or see it all shrink and crumble into irrelevance.

I've come to the conclusion that it may not actually be possible to be a good person while practicing the majority faith of the land you live in. Or, if it is possible, well, like the man said, "straight is the gate and narrow is the way, and few there be that find it."

The Episcopal Church has its own legacy of sin, they've long overlooked a laundry list of crimes to pay their own bills, so don't rush to congratulate a mainline bishop for preaching mainline Christianity or take too much pleasure from Trump and his fascist followers being surprised that that happened. But do remember this:

From the mid-1970s to the present, right-wing billionaires have poured a LOT of money into church expansion and maintenance conditional on them distorting the Bible's teachings to make it appear that Jesus was pro-fascist. "To deceive, if it were possible, the very elect." So when honest theologians tell you that this is literally anti-Christ, literally checks every box in the Bible's description of the future cult of anti-Christ, you need to hear us.

The modern book and movie image of "the Antichrist" was a well-funded propaganda campaign to distract you from the plain language of the scriptures. The biblical anti-Christ is not some socialist liberal peacenik. The biblical anti-Christ is everyone who tells you that Jesus wants you to be cruel to "the least of these, my brethren" so that they'll straighten up and fly right.

[iheartmira]

Hellooo!! Could you do poly smc, fem!reader, and pv all together ?

soo reader is a very famous singer and has good visuals (basically like a kpop singer lol)

and reader has photo cards and LOTS of people buy them including smc and maybe pv so that they could see reader’s very pretty face

and well obviously reader’s relationship with smc and pv is private because yes

Could you also write their reaction to reader getting shipped with a another famous male singer LMAO

I think that’s it lol I really don’t know what to say anymore 😭

/ps I love the way you write smc sm <3

"spotlight" - shadow milk x idol!reader x pure vanilla

✧ ✧ ✧

you knew the cameras loved you.

the stage lights hit just right when you turned your face. your smile had been called "lethal" on fan forums. your vocals trended every other week. you had been sculpted into a star by talent and timing, and cookies across earthbread couldn’t get enough.

they bought your albums, screamed your name at concerts, and snatched up every photocard drop like their lives depended on it.

even the ones who should’ve known better.

in a theater drenched in velvet shadow and soft laughter, shadow milk cookie twirled one of your photocards between his fingers. this one showed you mid-performance, eyes closed, lips parted, the light catching on your cheekbones like stardust. he sighed, dramatically.

"truly… a divine tragedy," he murmured, tracing your jawline with a finger. "how can one cookie be so beautiful?"

"you’re hoarding merch again," a voice said behind him, gentle but uncharacteristically deadpan.

shadow milk cookie turned slowly. "jealousy does not suit you, vanilly."

pure vanilla cookie held up a matching photocard. the same one, in fact. except his was in a crystal-clear sleeve, carefully preserved. not a fingerprint on it.

shadow milk cookie raised an eyebrow. "oh, how pure. do you kiss it goodnight?"

pure vanilla didn’t answer. but he did smile. a little too sweet.

and none of them, not the screaming fans, not the press, not the cookie kingdom elite, knew that both of them were in love with you.

privately. desperately. silently.

well. mostly silently.

you lay sprawled across the greenroom couch, a silk robe hanging loosely around your shoulders, your makeup wiped away but your stage glow still lingering. shadow milk cookie lounged nearby, flipping through a magazine with your face on the cover. pure vanilla sat in a nearby chair, quietly sipping a beverage brewed exactly how you liked it. he always made extra.

"are you seriously still fighting over who has more photocards?" you asked, raising a brow.

shadow milk cookie held up a holographic card like it was sacred scripture. "signed. with eyeliner smudged from tears. this is peak artistry."

pure vanilla just looked at you, then at the drink. "i prefer… the real thing."

you rolled your eyes and grabbed a pillow to scream into. not because of stress, but because your boyfriends were embarrassing.

yes. boyfriends. plural. secret, of course. the world couldn’t know the radiant songbird they adored spent their nights tangled between a legendary saint and a theatrical villain. it would shatter hearts. cause riots. probably end in someone printing body pillows.

still. you liked it this way. loved them both in their own way.

shadow milk cookie kissed you like it was a game you both pretended he wasn’t winning. pure vanilla cookie held you like you were something he prayed for. with them, you could be yourself. not a vision. not a fantasy. just… you.

until the internet exploded.

“earthbread's idol spotted backstage with dazzling cookie! romance in the air?” “the duet that set earthbread ablaze: chemistry or something more?” “are we witnessing the birth of a power couple???” you stared at your phone. blinked. then groaned.

dazzling cookie was sweet, talented, and kind. he was also very much not your type. but fans had latched onto the on-stage chemistry from your recent duet like hungry leeches.

the ship name had trended in under an hour.

you looked up. shadow milk cookie was reclined against your dressing table with pure vanilla cookie behind him, holding your phone upside down like it personally offended him. his smile was sharp. "so this is betrayal."

"i'm dating you two. it's not even real," you said, rubbing your temples.

"oh, but the fan edits are!" he snapped, flipping the phone. "look! someone made an animation of you two kissing!"

you sighed and walked between them, stealing your phone back. "if you turn this into a jealousy contest, i'll start selling a photocard of me holding hands with him."

pure vanilla looked calm. too calm. "you’re not… really considering that, are you?"

you smirked. "depends. will you two behave?"

they were quiet.

and then, shadow milk cookie grinned, sliding up behind you. "i suppose i'll forgive him. after all, he’s not the one who gets to hold you."

pure vanilla touched your hand gently. "and he doesn’t know how you like your favorite drink after you sing."

you let out a breath, caught between amused and endeared. and when you walked out to take your next spotlight, they stood just behind the wings, invisible to the crowd, hearts fully yours, even if the world didn’t know it.

yet.

✧ ✧ ✧

‹𝟹 ‎ ⠀⠀ˑ˚₊ ·⠀interested in requesting? check out my pinned!

© 2025, iheartmira

[saintmelangell]

do you have any favourite historical overviews or introductions to christian mysticism that you could please recommend? ilysm habibti

works marked with * are what i would recommend for absolute beginners on the topic.

introductory works:

thomas merton, a course in christian mysticism: thirteen sessions ith the famous trappist monk*

william a. richards, sacred knowledge: psychadelics and religious experiences (on the practical applications of entheogenic, or drug-induced, mysticism)

william james, the varieties of religious experience, especially lectures 16 and 17*

bernard mcginn, the essentials of christian mysticism (arguably the best starter anthology of christian mystical writing)*

mircea eliade, the sacred and the profane

robert s. ellwood, mysticism and religion*

ed. amy hollywood, the cambridge companion to christian mysticism*

steven t. katz (ed.), mysticism and sacred scripture, especially the first chapter, "mysticism and the interpretation of sacred scripture," and the second chapter, "mysticism and scriptural justification"

primary works:

anon, the cloud of unknowing and other works (a.c. sperings translation for penguin is probably the most accessible)

teresa of avila, the life of saint tereesa of avila by herself

simone weil, waiting for god*

julian of norwich, revelations of divine love*

john of the cross, spiritual canticle (i recommend this to newcomers to christian mysticism over dark night of the soul, which is extremely dense and often devastating)

meister eckhart's sermons- though the book i'm linking is essentially a primer to german mystics

hildegard of bingen's scivias; but this selected works is a good place to start

margery kempe, the book of margery kempe by herself*

bernard of clairvaux’s sermons on song of songs*

marguerite porete, the mirror of simple souls

rebecca jackson, gifts of power*

catherine of siena, dialog

secondary works:

evelyn underhill, mysticism: a study in the nature and development of spiritual consciousness

evelyn underhill, practical mysticism*

caroline walker bynum, jesus as mother: studies in the spirituality of the high middle ages

caroline walker bynum, wonderful blood: theology and practice in late medieval northern germany and beyond

caroline walker bynum, holy feast and holy fast: the religious significance of food to medieval women*

grace m. jantzen, "eros and the abyss: reading medieval mystics in postmodernity"

grace m. jantzen, becoming divine: towards a feminist philosophy of religion

denys turner, the darkness of god: negativity in christian mysticism

jeffrey kripal, roads of excess palaces of wisdom: eroticism and reflexivity in the study of mysticism (+a lecture by him)

marsha aileen hewitt, freud on religion*

sarah clairmont, "she'll eat him up she loves him so" (one of my all time favourite papers)

also, the bible: which is probably the most vital of works on christian mysticism, as nothing you read about mysticism will not be influenced by it. i personally have recently been reading a combination of the JPS tanakh and the jewish annotated new testament, but the new revised standard edition (+apocrypha) is generally standard. if you are reading the bible academically for learning about mysticism, or have absolutely no background with reading the bible, i recommend the following books specifically:

the torah (genesis*, exodus*, leviticus, numbers, deuteronomy*)

the major prophets isaiah* and ezekiel*

the minor prophets (all of which constitute my favourite part of the bible) joel*, jonah*, micah*, malachai*

psalms*, job*, the song of songs*

the gospels, especially mark* and john (mark is the oldest and most "jewish," john is the most recent and most "gentile"; matthew and luke are probably more familiar than both)

the epistles: james*, jude*, 1-3 john, 1-2 peter, hebrews

the revelation to john

everything i've recommended here you can find online (internet archive or annasarchive); i've also tried to keep it extremely general and limited to work that i've personally read and vetted. if there's specific aspects or topics you're interested in (ie women's mysticism, medieval mysticism, mysticism and eating, freud and mysticism, commentaries on specific mystics etc) just drop me an ask! very honoured you've asked me beloved <3

[bunny-jpeg]

hares, bunnies & wolves

fernando alonso & lance stroll

tags: smut/pwp, university au, professor!fernando, graduate students!lance & reader, filming recording, masturbation, dirty talk, slight dom/sub dynamics

fernando knew that maybe it would've been best to simple download one of those older singles' apps and meet a lovely person and finally settle down. but, instead on a saturday night after a few glasses of wine, he was scrolling through his page of subscriptions. the lovely young people who are a little more liberal with what the internet sees.

and fernando loved what he saw. his personal favourites were a couple who were living in the country that he was currently teaching in. he could tell from the accents that they were from canada.

he had been subscribed to you for almost a year now, and still fernando hung to your videos like erotic scripture. fernando was well respected in his area of study, he shouldn't be jerking it off to videos of people who were close to his students' ages. but there he was, lured by a new video with your breasts right in the thumbnail.

the professor should've known that eyeing the breasts of a younger woman like that wasn't a respectable thing to do. but he clicked it anyway, not like he'd ever meet you two.

"look at that, bunny." he purred as he focused the camera on your chest as he jerked himself off with his other hand. the focus was heavily on on your breasts as you plays with your clit. you rubbed your hand up against your slit with a heated passion as the video continued.

fernando couldn't see your face. you both wore plastic rabbit themed masks that protected your identity. but in total fairness, no one was watching for your facial features. you had fat tits and your partner had a big cock. it was all that was really needed.

"look at you, baby girl." hare's voice rang in your head. lance was the hare and you were the bunny. fernando shifted in his seat as he watched the video keenly. lance spoke once more, "you love knowing that guys get off to you, that you put on a little show for our lovely viewers. they pay you to orgasm, dirty bunny." his voice was low, like coals on your soul as you both continued to mutually masturbate.

the older man could feel the tension in his body as he pleasured himself. he licked his lips as he tried to capture all of your body as your breasts jiggled for the camera. you looked like a dirty slut, but fernando loved how lance spoke to you.

"la-hare." you whimpered, "please." you swallowed as he rubbed his cock up against you. pointed the camera at the sight of his length rubbing up against your soft stomach. pre-cum drooled all over your skin in the low pink lighting of your room. he licked his lips, he knew of all the losers who were jerking off to you.

losers like fernando.

who was in bed as he stroked his cock feverishly to the sight of you. the pretty noises you made and how your lover captured your figure in the lighting of our bedroom. a sweet pink for such a dirty activity. fernando felt like a wolf, a wold observing two little rabbits fucking feverishly. with little time or rhythm, just a wanting need that fernando wish he could be a part of. he believed he could make you both feel good. give two sweet rabbits a dominant in their life. but you were both so young, so fernando would just have to be a voyeur to your sexual activities.

the camera shift and lance had your legs wrapped around his waist and his cock slipped into you quickly. his large cock sank in easily due the amount of wetness and lance filmed the sight of it sinking in. he groaned, "fuck, yeah. looks good, bunny. you like that? you like how it feels when you're stuffed full." his words were like honey and you could feel his dark gaze through the mask. you maintained eye contact as you laid out with your hands tangled in the sheets.

lance loved filming you taking him, letting him fuck you. maybe it wasn't the most normal feeling. but all these fools paying money to see your tits, while he got to touch them. while he got to fuck you against the sheets every night, sometimes in other places of your small apartment. fucking you and getting paid for it, that seemed like not a bad way to make some cash.

nothing more beautiful than you with a small stack of fifty-dollar bills in your hand after a weekend of fucking through a box of condoms. however most of the time you worked on the pill and a prayer as lance fucked you. he had already broken enough condoms by being too rough with you.

and while a little stroll baby would be cute, a degree on your wall was more important. lance continued to film you and you bit your bottom lip for a moment. lance asked you how it felt and you replied, "fuck." you swallowed as you almost said his name, "hare, please. fuck, that's it. that's it."

he picked up the pace and your body shook as he fucked you feverishly, "gonna work you all night, bunny. how does that sound, give them their money's worth as i just ruin you. and if my cock gets tired, well, we have a whole collection of little friends to keep the night going." one time he spent half an hour rubbing a vibrator against your clit until you basically were clawing at him to stop and the safe-word was used. with the cameras turned off, he took care of you. he loved you and helped you calm down. but his kindness only turned you on once more and you gave him one last round before you were done.

you held onto the cover's tighter and said, "fuck, please." your eyes closed for a moment as felt the pleasure wash over you. fernando watched that video intently and felt his cock get slick with pre-cum as he gazed at your body being fucked like that.

missionary, spread out like a fine dining meal. fernando had his fair share of beautiful women but he was certain that you'd taste sweeter than any other. he knew he was getting close and continued to move his fist faster.

he was egged on by your moans and pathetic noises. how you withered on the bed as your lover continued to fuck you. a debauched sight of you being fucked quickly and roughly. lance's words were dirty for you and the camera, the sex was heated between the two of you for online enjoyment.

"tell them how good it feels." lance said, "c'mon, little rabbit. be a good girl and tell the nice people at home how it feels to be a cock hungry little slut." his words were like venomous honey, it stung but made you feel so good.

with a few more strokes of his cock at your needy response, fernando came around his fist and the phone almost toppled over when he shifted. he grabbed it with his clean hand and continued to watch while holding it. his cum covered hand stroked his cock at the sight of lance's hand around your throat as you both neared your orgasm.

you were near professionals, but still maintained a certain level of novice that drew fernando in. lance's sexual words were like honey, but his movements showed a lack of sexual knowledge. and while you still came, fernando imagined what a little bit of training for you both could do. he played with his still hard cock as lance choked you slightly and continued to fuck you. it was hard to fuck from the angle, but he did his best.

you both came at the same time and your eyes almost rolled back into your head at the intense feeling. you were near limp by the time lance stopped fucking you and you were coming down from the sexual feeling.

camera pointed in your face, if fernando looked close enough he could see the colour of your eyes and your unfocused gaze. lance asked in a low tone, "so, bunny. any other words to our audience?" his knee rubbed up against your achy slit.

you giggled a little, still out of it, "i wanna tell them, that i'm glad they get to watch me get fucked." then devolved into larger giggles and lance went for you and the video ended.

fernando was left in the glow of the thumbnail with his cock still erect in his hand. he had a feeling this was going to be a long, long night. because the image of your pretty tits and prettier pussy were burned into his mind. and it left him sexual desperate.

-

fernando was standing in line at the coffee shop on campus, he was quite tired after the escapade of your page last night. late into the evening you and lance had published two more videos.

each made the older man feel his grasp on sanity slip and he thought solely with his cock as he jerked off many more times. he almost dropped his coffee cup when he saw you. you were seated at a nearby table with your laptop open and your pen at your lips. you looked like you were over-thinking. lance was across from you, a coffee cup in his hand and his own laptop over. he was leaned a little more forward to admire you.

but when you giggled when he played with your hair, fernando knew it was hare and bunny. he had to compose himself before he continued walking. after he passed by, he looked over his shoulder and saw you looking at him. you gave him a friendly smile as if he didn't see you choke on cock last night.

fernando tried to forget about it, but while he was still in ear-shot, he heard lance say, "bunny, why don't we get dinner tonight before work." and gave air quotations.

and you giggled and said, "don't call me that outside." your voice dipped lower, but fernando heard. bunny and hare, and the wolf that masturbated to their little fuck sessions, all on the same campus. and as fernando would find out, in the same department. <3

[clawmarks]

Bible natural history : containing a description of quadrupeds, birds, trees, plants, insects, etc. mentioned in the Holy Scriptures - Francis Orpen Morris - 1856 - via Internet Archive

[ahopefulbromantic]

Oh Lady Wisdom? As in, the aspect of God to which JOHN SPECIFICALLY DELIBERATELY pointed while writing (probably among other scenes) the wedding feast in Cana for people to draw parallels to the Proverbs and conclude that Jesus is Hokhma? This Lady Wisdom? The one that would make this reference go both ways?! I wanna kiss you square on both cheeks, what the heck man!

Also wait wait wait cause there's another thing i noticed in the meantime. It's not just this verse. It's also the one before:

While the king sat at his table,

My spikenard sent forth its fragrance.

Because Jesus is the King! Sat at His table! (Which is weird because here they seem to be two different people but bear with me) He also smells of nard perfume!! And do you know how we know it?! Of course you do. It's in John 12,3:

Then Mary took about a pint[a] of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

To which after Judas' rude money remark Jesus replies: "Leave her alone, (...) It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial." And yes of course she would, she dumped the whole bottle of very expensive perfume on Him, the smell filled the whole house, He must've been smelling like nard for days on! Let's say 3-5 days. Just enough time for Him to get killed.

I wonder if the faintest bit of this fragrance survived the blood, sweat, and dirt of the crucifixion.

HEY UM SO DO YOU THINK WHEN JOHN RECLINED ON JESUS' BOSOM DURING THE LAST SUPPER THAT JESUS THOUGHT OF SONGS 1,13? AS IN:

My beloved is to me a sachet of myrrh

that lies between my breasts.

BECAUSE THAT'S VERY MUCH ABOUT JOHN IN THAT MOMENT??? IT'S NOT JUST ME RIGHT?!

[bills-bible-basics]

THE INTERNET: OUR FINAL FRONTIER; YOUR LAST CHANCE? -- a Bill's Bible Basics article #Christian #BibleStudy #Jesus This Bill’s Bible Basics article by Bill Kochman can be read at: https://www.billkochman.com/Articles/internet.html https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/the-internet-our-final-frontier-your-last-chance-a-bills-bible-basics-article/?THE%20INTERNET%3A%20OUR%20FINAL%20FRONTIER%3B%20YOUR%20LAST%20CHANCE%3F%20--%20a%20Bill%27s%20Bible%20Basics%20article

[all444glo]

HAB!JARED X WAG!READER HEADCANONS

Y’all met at Duke—two standout athletes, both gaining internet success. The chemistry was instant, but it wasn’t rushed.

He respected your discipline before anything else. You weren’t caught up in campus popularity , and that made him lean in harder.

He lets you lead. He doesn’t feel threatened by your success—he stands beside you proudly.

He showed up for you in the smallest ways—study snacks during finals, warm-ups before games, quiet pep talks when you felt like quitting

“I’m an honors student, I should just keep going with school, I could be a successful teacher!”

“Y/N please don’t piss me off…”

Your relationship wasn’t performative. Even though y’all were “entertainment” to everyone watching, it was always deeper than content.

Y’all didn’t perform for the world. Your intimacy shows in care, which is why one day you all decided to keep you alls relationship off the internet. No more vlogs, no more story times. You all let everyone assume what they wanted.

After tough games, y’all try to decompress together. Showers, candles, stretching each other out on the floor while music plays low. Sometimes no words—just breath, hands, intimacy.

Draft night night came and you were in the crowd acting like you weren’t about to cry before his name even got called. Your makeup was amazing before you all sat down. But the proud look on his families face as long with his made you weak, your eyes stayed glossy and you teared up constantly during the entire ceremony.

Jared kept looking at you between interview questions, mouthing “You good?” and all you could do was nod and squeeze his hand under the table. You’d seen how hard he worked, how many nights he sat icing his knees while editing watching film. You knew he had doubts, and as tonight was the biggest reassurance you could ever give him.

When “For the 16th pick the Philadelphia 76ers select…Jared McCain…” echoed through the Barclays Center, you stood before he did. Screamed like you got drafted yourself. Jumped on him, damn near straddled him in that suit, tears everywhere.

You leaned in, pressed your forehead to his, and whispered, “We made it, baby, we did it!”

Because it wasn’t just his moment—it was both of yours, and you already knew your time was coming just as big.

He brings your Duke jersey to his games and keeps it with his things. You didn’t even know until the cameras caught him waving it around after he dropped his first 30.

After your last collegiate triple-double, he flew out same night just to surprise you. When you came out the locker room , he didn’t say much—just hugged you tight and whispered, “You’re still not beating me.”

You hoop together in his off-time, but it’s never about who’s better. It’s about sharpening each others skills.

He knows your game like his own. “Watch that spin—she’s baitin’ your left,” he’ll tell your teammates during your practice.

When y’all train, it’s quiet—focused. And then later that night, he’ll joke, “You lucky I love you, ‘cause I would’ve blocked that weak ass step-through.” And you’ll smirk, “Shoulda coulda woulda, do it next time.”

He knows how to ground you. When the media’s loud or the pressure’s up, he brings you back down. “Don’t let them get you out of character,” he always says “They want you to act like that” And it always works.

You write notes in his duffle. He keeps them in his locker like scripture.

This man showed up in a custom tapestry hoodie with different pictures of you your face printed on it. Your college number and #1 was embroidered on it, it was tiny but it was cute.

He was pacing in his Asics like he was about to get drafted again

When they said, “With the #1 pick, the New York Liberty select…” and your name dropped, he jumped before you did. Grabbed you, spun you around, crying in a way that made the whole room stop.

Y’all hugged forever. Cameras catching him whispering, “I told you. Number one, how could you doubt it?.” And your tears didn’t stop ‘til you hit the stage, looking back and seeing him holding his composure like he’d never been prouder.

Afterward, y’all took photos like a prom couple—you wore his draft day hat and you wore his both of y’all cheesin’ like first day of school.

From that night on, Jared always snuck seafoam somewhere in his game day fits: a beanie, a lace trim, socks, even a matching mani once.

You? Toooo annoying. Wore a throwback Allen Iverson tee under your warmup just to “accidentally” flash it when you pulled off your top. Philly earrings, Sixers hat at postgames.

Nobody hears the end of it. Constant story reposts of each other’s stats. “Filled stat sheet, my baby helped me hit my parlay 🥹”

Every holiday, every break, y’all host a charity skills clinic for city kids between Brooklyn and Philly, always making it about community. But then still arguing over who’s “the new face” of their respective franchise.

In y’all’s private moments, it’s still quiet prayer, forehead kisses, and him warming your shooting hand in his lap before games. All that noise, all that extra was fun, but nothing compared to when it was just yall.

You knew something was wrong before it even happened, you blamed it on nerves but you knew something bad was happening that day.

You flew to Philly the same day he got injured. Didn’t even wait for clearance or a break in your schedule. Your agent tried to talk you out of it, and you just hit them with a flat, “He would’ve done it for me.”

The first time you walked into his hospital room, he tried to hit you with a smile. “Don’t you have a game today?” he joked with his knee propped and wrapped. You kissed his forehead and whispered, “I could care less about the wnba right now”

Recovery was slow. The kind that eats at a man who lives to move. Jared was an athlete on top of probably having some form of undiagnosed of ADHD. His stagnancy killed him from the inside out.

You stayed on him— overnight shipping meal preps, mental health check-ins, making him put his phone down when he started spiraling into stats and trade rumors.

One night, he broke down. “I feel better— why do I have to be out for the whole season?” He sobbed “What if I’m not the same after this and they trade me?” And you just held him. Quiet, firm. “Then we adjust. You are worth more than your abilities Jared, you need to heal inside and out first”

When you went back to New York he started facetiming you from the recovery gym—him on the bike, you lifting after practice. Y’all turned rehab into ritual, and made it something much more intimate. Something in you healed watching him heal.

He was still rehabbing when the Liberty went on their run. Minimal travel, but was glued to every game—jersey on, seafoam towel in hand, pacing like a coach in his living room.

After every round, he facetimed you crying like you weren’t the one playing. “They not touching you, babe. That lynx whistle is sick, I would have crashed out too”

When y’all made it to the Finals, he begged the training staff to let him fly out for the last game. The Sixers’ media team told him, “You can fly to the Finals if you give us at least one vlog and a tiktok post.”

So this man packed his ring light, a mic, and his best media-friendly tunnel outfit. His vlog started with: “POV: Your girl’s about to win a chip and you’re just here to be loud and emotional.”

He inserts a clip of him heckling a heckler.

In the vlog, he filmed himself shopping in New York “Need a seafoam ‘fit, unfortunately that appears to be a niche color?” He tried on three outfits before choosing one with subtle Liberty colors. “New York do better, why are yall not supporting the only good basketball team yall have?”

He filmed a lil’ “Day in My Life as a Supportive Boyfriend at the WNBA Finals” TikTok: coffee run, holding your duffle bag, screaming from courtside, taking videos of you on the low while mouthing various compliments. The comments were unhinged. “The way he’s acting like he too isn’t a professional basketball player”

They had him mic’d up courtside, and the moment you hit a jumper, he stood up so fast his chair nearly flipped. “My lady a bucket!”He was yelling stats mid-possession like he was on commentary: “That’s her tenth, TEN. You see the left hand finish? That’s not even her dominant hand, she does this.”

During a timeout, the camera panned to him and he threw up a heart with his hands—but when you glanced over and did the same, he dramatically clutched his chest like he’d been shot. “Oh my god, we just flirted on national TV. I can’t go back to my seat, I gotta propose or something.”

The Liberty staff had to pull him back into his seat 'cause he was standing on the sideline giving you coaching tips through gritted teeth like he was part of the staff.

Jared stepped a little too close when y’all broke from the bench, hands on his hips like he was just observing. He stood there quiet, eyes locked in like he was studying film, then when y’all brought it in for the huddle clap, he subtly slid his arm in too. Didn’t look at anybody. Didn’t smirk. Just stood there like it was his timeout too.

The clip hit Twitter before the quarter ended, the official 76ers account posting it saying:“Bro thinks he’s part of the team” and a quote tweet from the Libs said: “If we win, he’s taking home a ring too 🤷‍♀️”

You saw him in the locker room after the final buzzer—mascara streaked from crying, champagne in your braids, and he was already crying again.

He met you at center court, kissed your forehead, and whispered sweet nothings to you. You pulled him into the biggest hug, both of you shaking from the weight of it all.

They saved the announcement for post-game, while y’all were still riding the high of the championship confetti. The arena still buzzing, streamers falling, and suddenly the arena voice cuts through:

“And to top it all off… this season’s Rookie of the Year…”

Jared turned to you before they even said your name. He already knew.

When they said it—your name, echoing through the mic—you froze. Trophy in one arm, now another being walked toward you. Your teammates screaming, pushing you forward.

Jared’s voice cracked as he yelled, “That’s my fucking girlfriend!” He yelled excitedly forgetting he was mic’d up.

You didn’t even hold the ROY award at first. Just pointed at it, tears in your lashes, chest rising. “To think I was gonna give up playing and just be a teacher?,” you said in the postgame interview. And Jared behind you? Clapping, lips pressed together to hold in how proud he really was.

Back in the locker room, the team popped bottle after bottle, but Jared found you tucked in a corner drying off. He kissed your temple and whispered, “Rookie of the Year, Champion, and still my beautiful girlfriend. I’m so lucky”

The photos? Idiotic, both of y’all were beyond drunk.. Him in your goggles with the trophy, you holding his waist from the side, holding up your jersey.

Later, when y’all got back to the hotel? You made him hold both trophies while you changed into your victory outfit. He took pictures like a proud AAU dad, cheesin’ hard. “You want ‘em in the crib or your mama’s house?” he asked. You grinned. “Keep ‘em close. I’m not done collecting.”

After the win, he posted: “She won the ‘chip. I won a whole in general.” Every picture had you in the background or on his shirt. Slide 3 was just him crying in the hallway,slide 5 was a zoom in of your name embroidered on his sleeve, slide 10 was you with your championship ring with a heavy engagement stacked on top of it.

And the internet couldn’t wait to hate when he showed up the next week in a full Liberty warmup at a Sixers press conference. “I’m just a supportive man in his WAG era,” he said with a grin. “What can I say?”

[lizardho]

A rant I wrote for my best friend in 2020-ish - now she's my wife and is gonna be like "Why did you post this instead of working on your dissertation?" and the answer is because I'm procrastinating silly stylez

Mormon Missions

The Basis of Mormon Missionary Work

              Mormons, like many evangelical religions, proselyte as a core part of their religious activities. They claim (accurately) that early Christians did the same thing, and that scripture tells followers of Christ to do the same thing. So it’s a pretty big deal to them. When the Mormon church was first founded, missionary work was seen as an excited thing for Mormon men to do. The first prophet, Joseph Smith, would go visit people or invite them to his home, and tell them personally where God wanted them to go preach. They’d take a crate of copies of The Book of Mormon and go to close places (like New York or the American  South), or they’d go to far-away places, like England, Scotland, and Ireland.

Early missionaries were wildly successful, mainly because people the world was in sort of a religious frenzy at the time, and also the internet didn’t exist. They’d convert a few hundred people, tell them to move to Missouri, then continue on their merry way, going for a few years at a time before returning home as heroes. It was sees as a fun, manly way to abandon your family for a few years to go to England and sell books. After a while, though, Joseph Smith started getting too horny. At first, he was content to fuck the babysitter and some single ladies, telling them that God gave them the thumbs up, so it was cool. After a while, he got even hornier, and decided it was about time he fucked some married women. So he’d send the husbands of the hottest MILFs in his congregation to England for a few years, and then marry and fuck their wives while they were gone.

Sometimes, he’d tell them (“Oh, haha, hey, funny story, while you were in England because God told you to go there, your wife tripped and fell on my penis, and God said it was part of his plan, and I was into it, so we just went with it”) and sometimes he DIDN’T tell them. One guy he told got pretty mad about it, and he and his wife packed up and left Missouri, set up shop in a nearby town, and then made a newspaper. They printed the hot headline “Joseph Smith says God wants him to fuck your wives” and Joseph was like “Oh hey, let’s not let people in on that”. A mob of Mormon acolytes, who may or may not have been cucked by Joe the Prophet, also got upsetti spaghetti and burned down the printing press. Joseph then pardoned them, and was backed by the Nauvoo Legion, the 2nd largest military force in the U.S. at the time, and 100% Mormon. This was bad because a) Arson is a felony, commonly referred to as a “dick move”, and b) This violates the bill of rights, which guarantees freedom of the press. So Joseph was arrested. In jail, he was killed by an angry mob, and a new guy took over the Mormon church. His name was Brigham Young, and he was hornier than Joseph, who in turn was hornier than God had ever intended for anyone to be. Brigham took up the proud tradition of ignoring consent and ethical polyamory, and just sending men on far-away missions so he could spread his seed like a shitty incel-gone-rogue Genghis Khan.

After a while, missionary work stopped. Mainly, it stopped because of World War I. Then, the depression his the world like a starvation-inducing meteor, and missionary work slowed down a bit. Fortunately, the great depression ended! Because WWII started and everyone started dying again, so like, it was more of a lateral move. After WWII, though, the U.S. was suddenly a financial superpower with access to more of the world that it had previously had. So they started shipping missionaries off all over. It was still done by “calling”, where local congregation leaders would feel inspired to send people on missions, and then they would do that.

At some point in the 50s, an attempt was made to standardize missionary teachings a little bit, since the church was dealing with issues about people teaching weird stuff, like women having rights (the church still teaches that women shouldn’t work unless single or their husband is struggling to provide, and operates proudly on a “barefoot and pregnant” model of women’s rights that they teach very strongly to everyone from the ages of about 4 until 18), black people not being inferior (this was taught until the 70s), and tithing not being important (the church currently has over $100 billion in stocks and real-estate that we know of, it’s probably more).

So they made a tiny booklet with a basic summary of canon Mormon doctrine. Then, later, in the 70s, there was a HUGE push to get more missionaries. The phrase “every worthy, able-bodied young man should serve a mission” was used, and is still used, to describe who is expected to “serve” a mission. As they started this movement, they also began making rigid lesson plans, called “The Discussions” that missionaries needed to stick to. They were roughly 30 minutes long, relied on rote memorization, and were inflexible. At first, these were a big hit and people had a lot of success, but as education in the world improved, and more people were given access to schooling, technology, and financial stability, suddenly numbers began to plummet. So they changed the game plan: Make the lessons less structured, then blame missionaries personally for failure to convert people. These changes produced a book called “Preach My Gospel”, which was what I used as a missionary. They changed it again recently, but not by much, it’s just more simplistic. Like going from 3.5 to 5e.

- https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/new-era/1981/05/president-kimball-speaks-out-on-being-a-missionary?lang=eng

- https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/manual/gospel-topics/missionary-work?lang=eng

My own missionary experience

Basics of Mission Structure

-Mormon congregations are called “Wards”, which get sorted into “Stakes”, which is a group of 5-10 wards.

-A mission is made when there is a certain ratio of stakes-to-non Mormons.

-A mission is split when there are too many Mormons in an area. So like, my dad’s mission has been split 5 or 6 times now into smaller missions because of how rapidly the church grew in those areas.

-Transfers: A transfer cycle is 6 weeks long, and you stay with your assigned companion for at least that whole cycle, sometimes 2-3 cycles.

 One of the things to note (that you may have kinda picked up on already) is that being a missionary is kind of an exalted “rite of passage” thing. They view missionary work as an act of service to the world at large, and thing that missionaries are comparable to like…soldiers or doctors, heroes who are saving people from the forces of evil or spiritual sickness. It’s a weird mindset to be in, and it really gets pushed on you, especially as a missionary. Missionary work is pushed on young men as a spiritual obligation (note: They can’t force you to go, so it’s not like an actual obligation, but it’s definitely perceived as such for a lot of people). So, since I was a young “man” they started pushing it on me at like…12? A little younger? My grandpas both went on missions, so they thought that it would be great if I did too. My dad went on a mission (He went to Argentina’s southern end). It just kinda seemed like the thing everyone did, except I didn’t really want to go. I wanted to get married and have kids, but like…’f’ in the chat, I guess. Uterus machine broke.

I just ignored the general discomfort I felt about missionary work (like the general discomfort I felt about a lot of things tbh), and went to BYU like a good l’il Mormon. I turned down a 10k/year scholarship from ASU to go to BYU, because I am an idiot. At BYU, I made good friends, one of whom was trans!!! But she transferred away after coming out :c  But I had a D&D group!!! But they all left on missions :c  So I decided that if it was between being the only 20 year old on BYU campus who didn’t go on a mission, or going on a mission, I’d go. That was literally my process. Please make fun of dumb boy me, please, he deserves it. Anyways, I put in my papers, the prophets and apostles in Salt Lake sign me up with a big batch of elders going to Mexico City North. Mexico City is HUGE, so it’s broken down into 6 separate missions with 6 separate mission leaders. I was in the northernmost areas of Mexico City, including parts of Hidalgo. Chronologically, my mission went like this:

Months 1-6: Zone – Tultepec  |  Congregation Name – Primavera

-Companions: Elder Luis (my trainer): Chubby, kinda annoying but honestly just a sweetheart who liked to eat.

-Elder Mendez (my follow-up trainer): Chubby, good cook, seems nice at first but a bit unhinged. Threatened to kill me a few times. Kinda moody. Mostly just mean and dumb.

àIn this area, me and Elder Luis baptized: Ricardo Frias, who is no longer a member. Veronica, Alejandra, and Brenda, who are still members. Me and elder Mendez baptized Karen Itzel, who I have not been able to catch up with in years. She’d be about 14 now, tho? She was really little when she joined.

àStories: Nothing weird happened in a paranormal sense, but I did get robbed twice in my first week here, which was fun. There was a place in this area called Infonavit that was like a little neighborhood. There was a gang that controlled the area, but they were nice to missionaries, so we never got held up or bothered by them. Still, I did see 2 men with Uzis once just…walking around. Like. In broad daylight. It was incredible.

Months 6-10.5: Zone – Tula  |  Congregation Name – El Carmen

-Companions: Elder Lopez (my best companion): Short, very dark (from Chiapas, so like…very dark for a Mexican), shredded. The man had a 6 pack. Also, intimidatingly intense. After the first lesson we taught together, we were walking away and he belted out “ELDER HOBBS! I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT!” and I was all intimidated because he sounded like a drill sergeant, and despite being a foot taller and about 60 lbs heavier than him, he scared me. So I was like “What?” and he just goes “THAT WAS SO GOOD. YOU ARE A GIFTED TEACHER. I AM LUCKY TO BE ASSIGNED WITH YOU. WE’RE GONNA DO GOOD THINGS HERE.” And anyway he was the best. He cooked every day, he let me play D&D (by myself, so sad lonely hours, but still, it was stress relief). He worked out in a frenzy, had a miserable homelife, and was really just a very nice and supportive person.

-Elder Amador: Tall, really into soccer (had played semiprofessionally for Cruz Azul, as like a minor league player or something). Funny, aggressively cheerful, kind of a wimp. Farted a LOT for some reason, so we’d always take detours down the “less travelled” roads so he could fart in private. I didn’t mind tho because the area was actually really pretty, and sometimes I could see cows 🥺

- In this area, we didn’t baptize anyone. Which was fine with me.

- Stories: So, this is the area where I learned to make guacamole. We were visiting in on an elderly couple nobody had seen in forever. They lived in the BOONIES, like, it was just NOTHING on all sides, and when they answered the door they invited us in, and made us eggs with hotdogs, and then the best goddamn guacamole I’ve ever had in my life. I ate until I was sick.

-ALSO in the area: A supernatural (ish) story: So, Mormons believe that they have “priesthood power”, which is like divine power from God to effectuate his will on earth. This is stuff like healing the sick (never seems to work), causing miracles, summoning angels, and other bullshit that never actually happens. Sometimes people ask for priesthood blessings, usually if they’re sick or if they’re sad and want to feel better. So a guy in our ward flags us down, says he’s feeling iffy, and asks for a blessing. We had nothing else to do, so…sure! Why not? My companion, Elder Lopez, does it, and immediately after he says “amen” the guy starts puking SUPER hard. He stops, looks at us, and says “I cannot feel the left half of my body” and I was like “Hey elder, this guy is gonna die, let’s go get help” so we went basically next door to the home of the one guy in the area that had a car, told him what was happening, and then headed to the hospital. He stopped breathing twice on the way, and Brother Ricardo (the guy with the car) didn’t know CPR, so instead he just hulk-smashed his chest with arms about as thick as my legs, and that seemed to work. Funny stuff.

Months 10.5-15 – Zone: Nicolas Romero  |  Congregation name: Nicolas Romero

-Companions: Elder Casillas (the funnest companion): Fat. Very fat. Lazy, but we still managed to get more done than with anyone else. He was hilarious, and SUPER smart.

-Elder Montini: Originally form Argentina, immigrated to Mexico as a kid, then lived in Cancún. ¼ Italian, and Argentines are pretty white, so he looked American. He also spoke flawless English, and used this ability to shit talk people without them knowing. Also, VERY fat. Like. IN one day he ripped 3 pairs of pants just by sitting down. Kinda “holier-than-thou” but not too bad usually.

-In this area, we baptized NOBODY. Which was GREAT because this ward was actually the woooooorst. I fucking hated everyone in that Ward. They had about 80 people who attended regularly, but 900 people on record, and all 820 people NOT in attendance could tell you exactly why they left, and it was always because one of the shitty 80 had been excessively rude to them. There were 3 good people in that ward, and they all moved away eventually, so…yikes.

- No weird stories from here, but I did get in big trouble for breaking mission rules to… (checks notes)… provide service to elderly widows, so that was fun.

Months 15-21 Zone: Huehuetoca  |  Congregation name: Xalpa

-Companions: Elder Lucero: Total sweetheart, VERY shy. I cured his shyness by annoying him, since apparently feeling angry made him just rash enough to actually speak, so I just kept him lightly agitated with me for a few weeks until he realized he was good at what he did. He’s probably my favorite companion. We actually got along REALLY well.

-Elder Ramirez: Very nice, VERY fun, has a VERY cute sister. We got along well.

-In this area, the ward was HORRIBLE. Nobody liked each other, and everyone was shitty to us, too. We made our way into the ward’s good graces by getting on the good side of the women’s group, then berating their husbands about how shitty they were. The girls loved it, so we did great here. The ward basically tripled in size, and it wasn’t baptisms, it was just us bringing people back. It was actually really fun at the time. We didn’t baptize anyone, but after I left a Jehovah’s Witness got baptized, so I’m counting that as a HUGE win for us. I can shit talk Mormons all day, but the JWs are somehow worse.

-Weird stories from here: We were teaching an old lady, and she was being annoying and obstinate, arguing with us that her family didn’t need to go to church and that she didn’t want to confuse them. So we decided to leave. Nowadays, I’d have completely agreed with her, but at the time I thought I was a divine messenger sent on behalf of God. So. Anyways, as I went to leave, I felt some thing take control of my legs. Like. They stopped working. Idk how to explain it. The rest of me worked. I just couldn’t move my legs. My companion was already standing, I was trying to stand, and finally I just looked at the lady, opened my mouth to say something, and then kinda just went off, but like…they weren’t really MY words coming out of my mouth? Like, I was barely able to move my mouth fast enough for the words to happen, I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying, but when I finished, she said “Wow, Elder, I’ve never thought about it like that. I will absolutely bring my grandson to church on Sunday.” And my companion was just gawking, so apparently whatever I said was pretty good 🤷 

Months 21-24: Area – Nicolas Romero  |  Congregation name: La Colmena

-Companions: Elder Toledo: Kinda immature and lazy, but nice enough.

-Elder Tec: Kinda geeky and weird, very nice, also very jumpy.

-In this area: The ward was good, the people were nice enough, and there was a cool abandoned ranch house that was used as a dog sanctuary  that I loved. There was El Viejito Emilio that guarded the place, and there was a cute middle-aged couple that ran it, and they liked us, so we’d do “service” for them 1-2x a week, which largely consisted of picking up poop and stuff, and then just petting all the cute dogs for so long. Plus, the ranch house itself was HIGH KEY aesthetic. Like a fallout thing, it had graffiti all over, and cool little nicknacks lying around, and we could use it to hide from the rain, and I loved that little ranch house SO much.

- Weird stories: Another blessing. I was giving a VERY newlywed couple a blessing. The husband said he was possessed, but really he just sleeptalked. Whatever, I can bless that I guess? 🤷 So I put my hands on his head and am really just preparing to make something up, when what actually happens in suddenly I knew these people fucked before they tied the knot. An unwelcome surprise, since they were both deeply weird people and I didn’t want to know about their sex lives. So that just kinda popped out of my mouth, and immediately the guy goes RIGID and falls out of his chair. His wife is panicking, she thinks he died, so I go into emergency mode, we prop up his feet, Elder Tec checks for a pulse, he’s still breathing, all good,  and then the mission doctor won’t answer he phone. She was bad about that usually, but it was pretty late, so I wasn’t surprised. So instead, I just called home. Like. Dr Dad to the rescue, right? It was late, my parents were VERY confused, and so I described what what happened, and my dad walked me through some stuff and we kinda just decided he was having a full-blown panic attack because I had announced to the room that he and his wife did it before their wedding, which, again, matters very little to me. It didn’t even matter to me at the time, like…people have sex. It’s what they do. But for some reason some part of the universe was like “You get to know this now, bitch” and I was like “ew, OK, thanks for that”. Anyways, we got home super lte because it took us a while to calm him down, and that was the last time I ever had anything weird like that happen to me again.

- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_T_NYZesRdY (this is from the Book of Mormon musical, and it’s FUCKING hilarious)

- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5KSBEChzpMM (my experience in a nutshell)