#me! not wanting to go to church!

[identitty-dickruption]

I'm just so achingly lonely my dudes

[mikeyfrickinway]

Since I'm almost done working on em here's my demolition lovers costumes so far!

I started this in like mid/late March I believe

This is my first time doing beading ever, I probably should have started with something smaller or even tested on some scrap but I am nothing if not stupidly ambitious.

I wanna say this is roughly 14hours of work so far, I still want to add more to the dress and possibly make some accessories, we will see what I can get done by Saturday lol

[queenlucythevaliant]

Just to clarify my thoughts (since I've had a number of people ask me about it) re: Job and cursing God. There's a big difference between cursing God as used in Scripture and how we generally would think of cursing at God today.

Cursing someone, in the Bible, has a lot of depth to it. It's not just saying "screw you " in anger, it's got a sense of forsakenness to it. It's the opposite of a blessing, a removal of blessing. If the blessing is presence, your face shining on the person you're blessing, then a curse is absence. In some translations, Job's wife tells him to "renounce God and die," which I honestly think makes a lot more sense to modern ears.

Job says a lot of unpleasant things to and about God in his anger and grief. So do the Psalmists. A number of the Prophets. So can we. God can take it if we come to him with honest expressions of our emotion, including those not-so-nice ones directed at him. I don't think there's anything wrong with getting mad at God and saying, "How dare you, you bastard" when you suffer unjustly. You can say much worse, I think, without sinning, though I don't feel particularly inclined to give examples. But as long as it's an honest expression of your heart, I think you're doing exactly what prayer is for. You're presenting him your heart with an open hand. He can use that. Opposite of love is not hate but indifference, etc.

Job doesn't renounce God. Neither should we. But I think when you're truly suffering, you're gonna have those feelings toward God either way. He'd rather you address them with him directly than try to avoid them. Cursing at God in the modern sense is actually a great way to keep the relationship strong and not end up cursing/renouncing him in the Biblical sense.

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

guy who so desperately tries to find god. who wants to have faith in a higher authority to guide him out of the hole he's in. from the weight of guilt from simply existing, as the person he is. but every time he thinks he's answered his higher calling it turns out he's made the Morally Incorrect choice and his path to goodness and holiness was the road to the devil all along

[kayleerowena]

🏚️ haunted house commissions are back! 🏚️

is your house (or apartment, or rv, or a house you really like from down the street, or a house from a story) haunted? do you wish it was? for a small fee, i'll put ghosts in it for you!

i'm trying out a google form for commissions this time around rather than a first-come-first-serve model. this form will be open for a limited time. probably till around the end of may. i'll have a handful of commission slots to begin with, and i'll pull from the form response pool once more slots start opening up.

want a haunted house? fill out the form here! (reblogs are super appreciated to spread the word! 🫀)

[finalgirlgretchen]

if one more person tries to claim that the oh hellos are no longer christian i am going to lose my shit

[milksuu]

i need Phel w like… a bad bitch reader… the kinda girl her fans would ask her to step on them… and i need him to be completely whipped and submissive for her

❥ prompt: So, here Aphelios was. Dragged to some grungy underground concert by Kayn. And since Ezreal was sick, guess that made him the stand in. He thought he was going to be bored out of his mind. He didn't realize he'd end up being a fanboy---your fanboy. ❥ content/warnings: nsfw 18+, minor blood, BDSM, name calling, bullying (affectionate), lotsa profanity, dom!reader ❥ characters/pairings: Heartsteel!aphelios x badbitch!f!reader, aphelios & kayn ❥ performance song in this fic: Playground (From the Arcane League of Legends Series) - Bea Miller

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

That was one way to start a conversation, Aphelios thought. Usually, when a girl approached him, they were overly friendly and tooth-rottlingly sweet. To a sickening point at times. Too much was overwhelming for him, and he often got migraines from those interactions. He disliked the feeling of needing to reciprocate with the same intensity and niceties. He wasn't like Ezreal, who could entertain for hours with a charming smile and endless conversation. But this was the first time any girl cursed him out within the first millisecond of an exchange. Honestly, it was refreshing. And honestly, he kind of liked it.

He took a moment to look over his shoulder to check if, by chance, you were talking to someone else. He figured he was the only one out in the alleyway. And because of that, he couldn't recall staring at anyone. Although, he did tend to have a bad habit of 'resting bitch face'. Especially whenever he stared off into space. Just so happened to be in your general direction. He wasn't sure whether to call it bad luck or bad timing. Like the whole 'wrong place wrong time' situation. Either way, it was obvious his face and mere existence was pissing you off.

"I'm talking to you, dumbass. You with the stupid fucking headphones at a concert." Flicking your cigarette away, you encroached into his personal space. It forced him against a wall, with you mere inches away from his face. He could smell the burning smoke on your breath, lingering with a hint of spice and clove. "You got a problem, or what? If you do, then say it to my damn face."

That was comical. How could he tell you? Let's see, he reached to take his phone out. You scuffed and snatched it from his hands. "What the hell are you going to do? Call your mommy to come help you?" You mocked him by dangling his cell in his face. So much for that idea. Now what was he supposed to do? He needed to create some distance. Catch you off guard, and for you to react accordingly. Well, with all things considered. He tugged down his mask, and captured your lips. Red ignited your vision. You sank your canines viscously into his bottom lip and smashed his phone against his chest. He tasted liquid metal on his tongue, and felt the reset of his diaphragm. It took a deathly minute for him to fill his chest with air. He swore even if he could talk, that stunt would've shut him up for life. So, yeah. More or less what he expected.

"You sick freak." With a hiss, you spat a mixture of saliva and blood at his shoe. He watched you storm off, fading back into the dark venue and strobing lights. Leaving him with iron in his mouth, yearning for oxygen, and his heart recklessly pounding inside him. And holy shit, did he want more of it.

"What the hell. Did something happen out there?" When he returned Kayn took hold of his shoulder, and spoke at the side of his face. "There's blood on your mask. Do I need to kick somebody's ass here?" Aphelios didn't consider how badly his lip had been busted by your teeth. The pain was subtle compared to the wild thrill he received. And whenever he felt the sting with a brush of his tongue, the thought of you only came to mind. He shook his head, pantomiming how he bit into his own lip by accident. Kayn scrunched his face, but accepted the excuse by taking a long swig of his drink. When the lights dimmed, Kayn smacked at his chest excitedly. Aphelios almost bent over from the aching bruise you left against his sternum. "It's happening. LET'S FUCKING GO!"

The crowd shook the warehouse with roars. Fog spilled across the stage. Red lights poured down. And there you were. Like Hell's chosen ascendent, bound in black leather and succubus fashion. Your voice induced a hypnotism. The lights strobing with each bass beat of your song. The crowd spellbound, wailing and screaming for you to salvage them. But you were their obvious harbinger who would drag them straight to the pits of the underworld. Where they could never escape you. Forever trapped in your playground. And that's exactly where he wanted to be.

Going wide-eyed, Aphelios felt you within in his pulse. His bottom lip throbbing endlessly. He wasn't expecting to have a good time. He wasn't expecting you. He watched as you strutted to the end of the stage, planting your eight-inch heels against the faces of a few audiences members begging to be crushed. He could tell you had no problem delivering them pain, just as you did with him. He never understood the sensation, until tonight.

When the song ended, the crowd settled down for you to say a few words. Swinging your hair out of your mascaraed lashes, you took a swig from your water bottle. "You know guys. I love that you're all here. Thanks for coming out to see me. Feels awesome, really." You breathed heavily into the microphone. "But there's one person I want to give a special shout out to—for being an absolute fucking dickhead. Lights. Over there. Please and thank you." With a snap of your fingers, you pointed straight out into the crowd. Apehlios might as well had a gun pointed to his head. That finger burned a straight hole into his forehead. A spotlight swung over him, until it beamed down like his final day of reckoning.

Kayn snapped his neck going back and forth between you two. He then snatched his elbow, shaking him ruthlessly. "Wait. You're telling me I have to kick her ass? You know—my future fucking girlfriend?" Aphelios noticed there were a lot of fucks to be had with him tonight.

"Yeah. You. Still wearing those dumbass headphones. Tell your pink-haired girlfriend he can't save you. Because your mine after the show tonight." You signaled for the next song to come on, and the crowd went into a tidal wave of screams and wails.

"How the hell am I the girlfriend!?" Kayn yelled into the abyss of concert noise. "And what does my future wife want with you!?" Aphelios merely shrugged. But when his bottom lip pulsed again....he knew exactly what he was getting from you.

"Since you felt like you had the balls to kiss me, I should take them from you. See you try pulling that shit again."

That was one way to flirt with him, Aphelios thought. And he was being liberal with the definition. Threats against his privates never appealed to him before. But when those threats poured from your lips, they sounded like all the things he ever wanted to hear in his whole damn life. Up till now, everything felt rehearsed, repetitive, predictable-- mind numbingly boring. But with you, that wasn't going to be the case. That was obvious by his placement in your hotel room. Hands secured above his head, back arched, and wrists bound by leather stirrups hanging from the ceiling.

"You have one of the bitchiest faces I've ever seen. Bitchier than mine, maybe." The room was dark. He carefully eyed your silhouette approaching him. Aphelios swallowed hard when your hand took his balls in a choke hold. "Let's see how long it takes for me to break it. And if I can't..." With a quick release, you ran the length of a finger up his stiffening shaft. "I'll let you fuck me. Deal?"

Aphelios shuddered an exhale, nodding slowly. This was going to be the hardest thing he'd ever have to pull off...no pun intended. Assessing his own threshold, he knew he might not make it. But to any dog, a treat was still a treat. And he would take what he could get get. Or in this case, earn.

"I'll tell you how this is going to work." Your fingers left his tip, trialed up his stomach, till they rested in the middle of his bare chest. "If you want to tap out, make this sign with your left hand. Got it?" You singed one hand, while the other pressed into that lovely bruise you gifted him in the alleyway. The ache elicited a soft groan. "I asked if you got it." You pressed harder for confirmation. With a rattle in his restraints, he made the gesture. "Good. Looks like you're not a total dumbass."

Abandoning him briefly, he heard something crack in the dark. The scent of leather permeating the hotel air. He felt the material grace his back side, fluttering to his ass. One tap. Two tap. This was his only and final warning. If he wanted out, now was the time. He furrowed his brow, and licked his aching bottom lip. No—he wanted this. A whip to the air and the first strike landed. His whole body contracted as he held back a gasp. Settling to a low groan, it wasn't long till the next one came, then the next, and the next. Every strike hitting and harder. The crop whistling in his ears each time it came for his bare ass and thighs. His breaths turned sharp, sweat accumulated against his pale skin, and his fingers scratched the insides of his palms. After the 50th strike, his ass and thighs were on fire. But all those hormones produced to cope with the pain began to inch him into a subspace he had never reached before. Not to mention, all the hand strokes and squeezes to his dick in between the pain— it was absolutely mind fucking.

"Wow. I'm impressed. You've lasted longer than any of my other toys. You really are a sick freak." Arousal mixed with your half-talk and half-laughter. This was the first time anyone has earned you. And now, you were going to make him wish he'd never met you. "Are you ready to fuck the cum right out of you?"

Holy shit. Thank God he couldn't talk. Nothing would be making sense if he could. Wait, what did you ask him again? No, seriously. He couldn't think straight. The excessive amounts of oxytocin pumping into his brain diluted all his thoughts. When he didn't respond right away, you snatched his face, digging your nails into his cheeks. "I asked you a question, dumbass." That was quickly becoming his favorite insult. You dragged your lips, tongue and teeth across his busted lip. Hypersensitive at this point, that was almost enough to send him. Focus—shit—okay. He remembered, and nodded desperately between your breathy open-mouthed kisses.

He was lucky the bed was behind him. Once he was freed from his restraints, it didn't take much but a finger push from you for him to collapse back. The cold comforters contrasted his burning skin, almost like he dived into an ice bath. He really had this sense he was burning up. Woozy from all the endorphins and adrenaline pumping through him, all the way down to his twitching cock—begging for release. But he felt stuck in a bodily stasis, an erotic paralysis. All he could do was stare up at the melting ceiling, panting for breaths. "You're not fucking anything like this. Awe, what a shame." There was no remorse in your wicked smile as you removed your undergarments. "Deals off. Looks like I'm fucking you instead." He barely processed the meaning of your words until you straddled on top, pushed one of his thighs up, and plunged yourself down on him.

The shock of you taking his whole cock in one swift motion made him choke out a cry of ecstasy. Each of your thrusts were splitting him in two; one of pain and pleasure. His ass and thighs stinging and swelling with heat form all the welts you left on his skin. Rubbing against the cotton covers, rubbing against you. His dick swallowed and squeezed by your pounding cunt, over and over again. With the sound of your drenched pussy slapping hard against his base. He was dragged to an intoxicating edge. To a point where his eyes glossed over pleadingly, his face flushed and saliva streamed from the corners of his trembling mouth. "There it is. Finally broke that bitchy face of yours," he heard you moan, mocking how much of a shameful mess he was.

One more forceful slam of your tight warmth, and pleasure ripped through him, tearing him into unmendable pieces. Every single vein within his body tightened and coiled. Flushing all his insides hot and white. His cock pulsed and throbbed so deep inside you. He cried against his moans, heaving and shuddering. He prayed he would make it through his climax. Lucky for him, he did. Unlucky for him, you weren't finished, and were milking him for all he was worth. The tip of his dick feeling like pins a needles, forcing his back to arch and buck his hip against the extreme sensation. He vaguely heard you curse him out one more time as your walls clamped around him, pushing some of his load down his shaft and onto his pelvis. When the two of you settled, he shivered as you pulled yourself out and reached over him to take something from the nightstand.

"So—" You started, lighting a smoke and taking a long drag. The scent of clove and spice filling the space. "You free or what next week?" Well, that was one way to ask him on a date, Aphelios thought. Not that he needed much convincing to free up his schedule. He considered himself a fanboy—your fanboy.

an: you wanted a bad bitch anon, you got her. thanks for the req. MWUAH.

[ectonurites]

i do think i as a person am like. held together with duct tape poorly. in all aspects

[toxooz]

"So, you tellin' me you see that big boy with the skullface and you're not gunna start sweatin'?"

having another go at drawing Ghost since my first one was 👎 anyway this damn ass mission took me 2 n a half hoursssss 🤡

[noblemalone]

we all down bad for forklift certified Ferris ig 🥲

[trensu]

Have an itty bitty tiny piece of stasis in darkness, just so you all have an idea of where the story is going after the godly reveal. and also have proof that i am, in fact, still toiling away at this (as well as hawkins halfway house.)

A week and a half later, Steve entered a town he’d never seen before. He wore simple traveling clothes and carried no weapons aside from a couple of carefully hidden knives. He’d left his armor and shield behind. His satchel held only the essentials one needed for travel and a single stone as large as his fist. The stone was wrapped in layers of cloth to keep it safe during the journey. 

I need you to find someone. 

He felt very bare but he hadn’t been given much of a choice. Speed was of the essence for his quest, and little no-name towns tended to be wary of strangers in plain clothes, even more so around strangers decked out for battle. Steve wasn’t sure this place could be called a town. It was so small it hadn’t been on any official map. It didn’t even have an inn. Hopefully, Steve wouldn’t be needing an inn once he found who he was looking for.

He’s too far from me to reach.

He asked around, laying on the charm generously. He explained he had been a friend of a friend and had been trusted to deliver something. Eventually, he was told where to go. The house he found far beyond the village’s boundary was small. It looked like it had once been well cared for but it was old and had fallen to disrepair. Steve took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

A sallow old man opened the door. He was bald but had some scruff on his face still. His shoulders, stooped from age, trembled. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked so tired.

He’s my very last worshiper in all the world.

“Wayne Munson?” Steve asked.

“Who wants to know?” The man’s voice was phlegmy and rough. He coughed into the crook of his elbow almost before he could finish speaking. 

“I’m Steve. Ser Steve Harrington, pledged to the Lord of Night.”

Wayne’s eyes widened. His grip on the open door weakened and slipped. Steve caught the door before it could hit Wayne.

“He sent me to you,” Steve explained. “May I come in?”

yep, that's it for now. i told you it was small. i'm not even gonna bother with a read-more here.

[deservedgrace]

one of the more frustrating aspects of ex evangelical/ex cult stuff for me personally is how hard it is to talk about. and part of that is the emotional side of it, yeah it's a shitload of cumulative and compounding trauma and trauma is hard to talk about sometimes. but it's not always hard to talk about, or at least equally hard to talk about, and the thing that's honestly more frustrating to me about that is how... extensive it is, how impossible it is to give an accurate picture of what it was like, especially succinctly. there are so many things that you need context for. there's so much that doesn't really sound that bad unless you have other information. so much was normalized to me that i have a hard time knowing what's actually "normal" and what's "yikes" to other people because i simply don't always have the context for "normal". there's so much that's normalized in society and churches that gets dismissed as "normal" when it really, really shouldn't be. there's so much i just don't remember because it slipped out of my brain the same as "normal" unimportant memories because my brain didn't process it as abuse or traumatic at the time due to that lack of context of what "normal" is; it was normal to me and just what people did and how people acted and what people said. and the thing that happens is all of this compiles into me sounding like i'm exaggerating and whining about a "normal church experience" because it's just so impossible to describe how all-encompassing being in a cult is if you don't have that experience.

[myfairkatiecat]

not my friends being 400x less supportive about me being Christian than I am about them being atheist

[jojo-the-bird]

I think that the meaning of life doesn’t have some profound reason behind it, no, I think it’s much simpler than that. I think it’s because god one day saw the sun rise and sun set and decided that this is something to be shared with because no matter where you are in the world the sun will rise and the sun will set and we all see the same stars every night. And I think that’s what makes us human. Not the overly spectacle things but the little ones. The ones you have to stop and admire just for this moment as you suddenly are aware of your surroundings and realize how lucky you are to be alive. To look around and see that your surrounded by life, no matter how lonely you are your never really alone.

[moregraceful]

max and i are closing in on launching [redacted sports rpf charity fest] and i am once again pondering how do i write "experience with writing form emails and manipulating google forms in ways no one has dreamed of" in a cover letter without saying "i did it for the rpf grind"...like there's no way unless everyone in this microsoft teams meeting gets really cool about a bunch of stuff really quickly. you know

[fawnedolly]

still stuck between wanting to stay sweet and pure and not have sex until i feel its right or begging her to rearrange my guts rn😞😞😞

omg i didnt say this omg whatt???

˚୨ৎ⋆.༊*