Emotional about how important friendships are in the Bible.

"Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay."

"Behold, I am with you heart and soul."

Paul weeping with the believers in Acts.

There's such love, such loyalty, woven into Scripture.

Hey, i'm also from brazil and i love the way you write! Taking advantage of the fact that I saw you talking about yandere apollo pjo, could you do some headcanons about what he would be like due to the differences? like, in today's world. Would he look at your phone or something?

❝ ☀️ — lady l: it's a headcanon, in a way, but also an imagine, a combo of both! I ended up geting excited and focusing more on the platonic part and I hope everything it's! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes!

❝tw: obsessive and overprotective behavior and fluffy.

❝☀️pairing: yandere pjo!apollo x gender neutral!reader.

❝word count: 742.

Apollo is the god of poetry and will always be writing the most beautiful poems for you. All of his hymns will be dedicated to you and any pop influence he will use as inspiration to worship you. Apollo dedicates each verse to you, each word carefully thought out in the overwhelming love that the god feels, transforming pop influences into hymns of worship.

In the intervals between his divine exploits, Apollo is captured by the passion of modern melodies. Transforming pop influences into passionate songs, his lyres resonate in heavenly places, echoing the immortal feelings he has for his earthly muse.

Apollo as a divine father is smothering and protective. He doesn't give a damn about the rules that govern the gods, not when it comes to his favorite child. He will distribute gifts, presents and will help and support them in everything he can. Apollo will always make it clear that they are his greatest pride.

As you face challenges and monsters, Apollo protects you, interfering in divine destinies when necessary. The sun god becomes a constant presence, guiding and encouraging his favorite child to embrace its heroic nature. Apollo, the divine father, defies heavenly rules in the name of love for his child, doling out divine gifts and guiding them along the path to greatness.

One day, while you were facing a particularly difficult challenge, Apollo decided to intervene in a more direct way. He descended from Olympus, enveloped in golden light, and appeared at your side. His presence was warm and comforting, like the rays of the sun emanating from his divine form.

"My dear child," Apollo said with a beaming smile. "The time has come for me to join you on this journey. Together, we will face the challenges that present themselves, and I will guide you with my divine light."

Apollo watched with beaming pride as his child flourished under divine tutelage. He guided the mortal steps with the light of knowledge, shaping the favorite's destiny as a sculptor carves a masterpiece. Each of his child's deeds was a glorious echo of the pride Apollo felt, reflected in the rays of sunlight that illuminated his celestial face.

Apolo is very connected to modern technology, oddly enough. He would have a cell phone, the best and most expensive, and it would be full of photos of you. His music playlist would have all genres, an eclectic god, after all, he is also the god of music and appreciates all types, honoring his essence as the god of music.

He wouldn't touch your cell phone unless you allowed it or if he had some kind of suspicion. In this case, you can be sure that the god will search your cell phone in search of something. And he will definitely take selfies of himself to leave for you.

During moments of rest, Apollo shared divine stories and ancestral teachings with you. His words were like ethereal songs, dancing in the air and penetrating your heart. Each narrative was filled with wisdom and profound lessons, like the notes of an eternal melody.

On a starry night, after an especially epic victory over a colossal beast, Apollo gathered the gods and goddesses for a divine celebration on Olympus. Heavenly music filled the halls as everyone rejoiced in their achievements and the union between the divine and the mortal.

At the height of the party, Apollo raised his golden lyre and began to sing a song that transcended the limits of Olympus. His melodious voice resonated, telling the saga of his favorite child, full of courage, triumph and divine love. The song inspired tears of joy in the eyes of the gods and goddesses, witnessing the success of his protégé.

At the end of the performance, Apollo looked at you with pride in his eyes. "My child, you are a masterpiece that surpasses any divine song. Your heart is a melody that enchants the gods and transforms Olympus into a more radiant place. May your journey continue to shine like the stars that adorn the night sky."

Since that day, the bond between you and Apollo has only grown stronger. The god's blessings continued to guide you, while the teachings shared under the stars became a beacon of wisdom on his journey. And so, under the protection and love of Apollo, the heroic epic unfolded, marking destiny with the eternal light of the god of music and poetry.

Cold (Fire Ghoul x g/n reader)

Summary: Since Imperator refuses to spend more money on calefaction, it's always cold inside the Ministry. The fire ghoul finds a way to warm you up.

Tags: Rated T, there's no adult content here just a few innuendos and sexual tension. Sodo tries to set the reader on fire but he's only playing (mostly). Ghouls being some sort of cryptids. Sodo being a little shit.

It’s cold.

So. Fucking. Cold.

The tips of your fingers are almost blue, practically ice to the touch. It shouldn’t be this cold. It��s not even the worst part of winter yet, but Imperator insisted on having an iron fist control on the calefaction. The prices are excessively high this year, she said, and there’s no money to waste on the bills.

“Wear a sweater,” she advised, and you tried hard to fit as many long sleeve shirts and sweaters under your habit as you could.

Still, the cold inside the Ministry is ruthless. Wrapping a blanket around yourself helps a bit, but it gets quite uncomfortable when you need your hands to fulfill all your duties around the building. Besides, you almost destroyed it when you leaned too hard on the radiator, causing the whole living room to smell like burnt fabric.

Imperator wasn’t happy.

The mug between your fingers is pleasantly warm, full of tea. You lost count of how many hot beverages you drank today, hoping (to no avail) to bring some heat to your internal organs. Entering the kitchen, you walk to the stove and turn on the burner, placing your frozen hands near the flames. If Sister surprises you wasting gas like this, you’ll never hear the end of it.

A loud sound behind your back makes you flinch, causing your fingers to almost touch the fire. Turning around quickly, your eyes focus not on Imperator, but on one of the ghouls.

Is this better, or worse? You’re unsure. The Nameless Ghouls are curious creatures who mostly keep to themselves. They don’t go around socializing with the rest, unless you manage to attain a certain level inside the Clergy.

Definitely, they don’t merge with the rest of the Siblings of Sin on a daily basis. Pupils staring right at the silver mask, you follow each one of his movements. You caught glimpses of their faces, accidentally and only in the dark, but their similarities with humankind still surprises you.

Their earthly body is something so akin to a human, but so different, nonetheless.

For a long moment, the ghoul only stares at you. Those light, blue eyes pierce your soul, sending shivers down your spine. You swallow once, twice, but nothing undoes the knot in your throat.

At long last, he moves. One step after the other, the ghoul walks around the table without looking away from you. The measured steps and his tense body language remind you of a predator stalking a prey, of a cat playing with a mouse before meal time. None of those thoughts are welcome, especially when you are alone and trapped between him and the counters.

The ghoul stops when he’s right in front of you. He’s not taller than you, but there’s something about his presence, some strong pulse of energy that causes you to feel small. It’s reasonable. You’re merely a human, staring into the unwavering eyes of an eternal, demonic being.

The silence in the room is solemn, like a cold blanket. All the typical rumble of the ministry has died down, and you wonder where the rest of the Siblings are at this hour.

Almost in slow motion, the ghoul tilts his head to the side, pupils digging holes into your face. You back away as he leans closer to your face, examining your reflection on his silver mask. If he senses your uneasiness, there’s nothing to give it away. The ghoul inches closer, and closer, until the edge of the counter digs on your back and his hips almost press over yours.

The smell of something burning hits you first. Then, the heat. Your body crashes against his when you move away from the stove, noting how the flames have grown tall and now dance around the burner in a frenzy. The ghoul’s shoulders move lightly, in what you can only describe as a chuckle, and his eyes shine with amusement.

“You!”

Your voice is airy, faltering as you fight to regain your breath. There’s a burn mark on your habits, maybe even a hole. The ghoul’s fingers move around the flames, not caring about the heat, making them curl and sway around his hands.

Oh. A fire ghoul? That makes sense. You heard stories about him, very few of them good. Most of them unhinged.

“Me?”

The voice surprises you. It’s… softer than you might have imagined, way too sweet and innocent. That tone doesn’t match the coldness of his eyes or the mischief of his attitude.

Yet, it makes sense. These devils are charming, seductive, full of deceit. They need to be so, in order to convince humans to make deals with them, to give them what they desire the most.

Any word you might have had dies in your throat. Fingers grazing the scorched material of the clothes, you back away as he resumes his stalking, head leaning from one side to the other in slow motion. It’s frightening, the feeling of an uncanny valley that penetrates your body and urges you to get away from him.

“What about me?” He repeats. You can hear the amusement and teasing in his voice.

“You did that, right? You burned a hole in my habit!”

Again, the way his shoulders move tells you he’s laughing, but not a sound comes out of his mouth. He blinks once, then twice, in a slow motion that reminds you of a cat. “I thought you were cold,” he states.

Those words only fuel the anger inside your guts. “Not cold enough to be burnt alive!”

“Why not? Doesn’t it feel good, the heat on your skin?” He’s playing coy. It’s just a mimic of innocence, a theatrical display. You know it. He knows it.

The ghoul doesn’t wait for an answer. “Then, again. You humans are so fragile and sensitive. Not that I despise it, but it’s just hard to control myself.”

He takes one step, then another, and there’s not enough space between the two of you to make you feel secure. He’s not aggressive, just mischievous, but he’s stronger and more powerful than you and could probably get away with doing anything he wishes. Papa is not here to save you.

“And you’re here, alone, shaking from the cold. I tried to be nice,” he continues, taking another step. You feel the anger rise again, and this time don’t back away.

If he wants to play, at least you need to stand your ground and prove him not to mess with you. He’s supposed to help around the ministry, to assist Papa during the tours, not to torment Siblings of Sin inside their own home. “No. You know better,” you say, practically tasting the bitter lie in his previous statement. His eyes are clear, and there’s no regret in them, no kindness.

This time, he laughs. “Right. Maybe I don’t want to control myself around you. Maybe I like to set pretty little things on fire. Can’t blame me when it’s my nature.”

And you can’t. You know of certain incidents, of things spontaneously combusting inside the Ministry and on the stage. Fire ghouls are nothing but like hellfire, impossible to control, hard to contain, wild.

This one is not different.

Step by step, he approaches you once again until he halts right in front of you, harsh gaze locked into your eyes. You feel it in your stomach, inside your bones and in your soul. A shiver travels down your back, dying somewhere near your legs.

“You know, it’ll only get colder from now, but you can reach me if you need to,” he speaks, beginning to walk away from you. “Call me when you feel alone, and I’ll show you other ways to keep your body warm.”

Slowly, his tongue licks up one of his fingers. He never breaks eye contact, gifting you a satisfied smile full of glistening fangs before he leaves. As he exits the room, the flames in the burner calm down, but the fire in your guts remains uncontrollable.

PD: This is my first time writing a Ghoul. I kinda wanted them to be a bit human-like and a bit scary, with an uncanny valley feeling. I also wanted him to be a little shit.

I must admit I still don't know how to write the Nameless Ghouls. The characterization always feels off. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! Ask box is open is you want to say anything, no need to be shy ♥

Gnome Troubles Part VI (Astarion's POV)

Wicket shows a moment of vulnerability.

“Looking at something?”  Astarion arches one eyebrow as he studies Wicket’s reflection in the glass of his mirror.  The cleric is drinking more than usual tonight, choosing to keep to his own company rather than join the others around the fire for the evening meal.

“Just looking,” Wicket murmurs, sipping from his goblet of wine.  “What are you doing?”

Astarion fights to suppress the shiver that rolls down his spine.  He’ll never admit this, not even under the threat of death, but he adores the way a wine-soused Wicket speaks.  The gnome’s voice is already far deeper than one would ever imagine, given his size, and when he’s in his cups the husky growl becomes more of a soft rumble… the sharp, clipped edges of his accent become softer, more rounded… a velvet darkness that reminds Astarion of snowfall on a winter’s night.

Astarion forcibly shakes himself out of his musing to answer the question.  “I’m looking too, but not seeing very much.  Another quirk of my affliction.”

“Do you miss it?  Seeing your own face?”  Wicket tilts his head to the side, curious.

“Preening in the looking glass?  Petty vanity?” Astarion sneers.  “Of course I miss it.  I’ve never even seen this face.  Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.”

“What color were they before?”

“I… I don’t know.” Astarion pauses, slightly ashamed to make such an admission.  “I can’t remember.  My face is just some dark shape in my past.  Another thing that I’ve lost.”  He dashes the mirror onto the ground, fury coursing through him as he’s forced to face the reality of his condition yet again.  After two hundred years one would think it would get easier…

But it doesn’t.

Wicket deftly sidesteps shards of broken glass and sips his wine again, his eyes never leaving Astarion’s face.  With his free hand he motions for Astarion to come closer.  Curious, the vampire cautiously kneels down so that they two are able to look each other in the eye.  He remains motionless while Wicket’s eyes rove over him, greedily taking in every aspect of his face.  His colorless eyes, so often dark and haunted, burn with a pale fire that Astarion has never seen before.  Unlike Astarion, who quit aging upon the moment of his death, Wicket bears the burdens of his time in the earthly realm; long, black hair streaked with silver… his skin is tan and weathered from his many years spent traveling through the wilds of Faerun… a myriad of scars litter his skin, a testament to the danger of his life as a chosen of Kelemvor… faint wrinkles bracket his eyes and mouth, the signs of laughter and much time in the sun.  Astarion finds himself wondering about who Wicket was before fate threw them together, the Wicket who smiled and laughed often enough to create those lines in his skin.

“I see you,” Wicket whispers hoarsely.

“And what do you see, exactly?” Astarion inquires breathily, almost afraid to hear the gnome’s thoughts.

“Starlight and rubies,” Wicket murmurs absently, his free hand drifting upwards as if to touch Astarion’s cheek.  He hesitates just before his fingertips brush the elf’s skin, so instead his hand just hovers, faintly outlining the arc of Astarion’s cheekbone and then the strong curve of his jaw.   “You are like moonlight on water… The kind of beauty artists and sculptors dream of but can never truly capture on canvas or in clay.  Ethereal and eternal.”

Part of Astarion wants to scoff, to demand that Wicket specifically cite what he finds attractive about him… but another part, a long forgotten part of himself that existed before Cazador, when he was still a young boy who daydreamed of an adoring lover who would shower him in poetry and loving glances… that part of him blissfully listens to Wicket’s every word.

“In my wildest, most exquisite dreams I never could have imagined someone like you, Astarion,” Wicket continues.  “My moonlit beauty.”

“Wicket…” Astarion breathes out the gnome’s name, turning his head just enough to barely graze the other man’s fingers with his lips.  He freezes, surprised at his own willingness to touch a gnome.

Wicket seems equally shocked but quickly collects himself; his eyes grow cold as his expression shutters and Astarion is once again faced with a stoic and loyal cleric of Kelemvor.  He takes a few steps back and offers Astarion a stiff nod before turning away.

“Sleep well, Astarion,” he calls as he strides away to his tent.

Astarion stares after him, unable to formulate a response, and struggling to understand why Wicket’s sudden departure has left him feeling so… bereft.  Astarion is not unfamiliar with flattery certainly, after all compliments are all part and parcel of the game of seduction.  And after two centuries of luring and obtaining victims for Cazador, Astarion is a master of that particular game.  But in all his years no one has spoken to him so genuinely, stared at him so rapturously… been so tender towards him without the expectation of anything in return.

Astarion scowls, pulling himself out of those idle thoughts.  He won’t allow himself to be swayed by tender feelings and whispered sweet nothings, from a gnome of all things, not when there is so much at stake.  But perhaps if he can twist Wicket to his advantage…  Astarion smirks to himself.

Yes... that could prove very useful indeed.

Sai Thame

Source

Sai Thamë is the universal principle of order. Order is fundamental to the traditional understanding of the cosmos. Indeed the very word cosmos (Greek Kosmos) means order, as opposed to chaos, which is its opposite principle. In Greek thought, the creation of the universe consists in bringing cosmos (order) out of chaos (disorder); in other words, order is equivalent to being itself. The modern scientist's definition of entropy, as derived from the second law of thermodynamics, carries precisely the same implication.

Cosmos, or order, also means beauty. Hence our word cosmetic, which means to make orderly, and hence to make beautiful. To understand this fully, we need to understand what beauty really is. The modernist believes that beauty is literally "in the eye of the beholder": that there is no such thing as objective beauty. Beauty is merely an accidental preference of the brain for certain sense-objects over others. The objects which the brain finds beautiful have no objective quality that makes them beautiful; it is just a question of subjective preference.

You will see how this view follows naturally from the idea that we have no sources of information beyond sense-impressions and the action of earthly reason (or earthly sentiment) upon them. Because the modern mind denies the solar Intelligence accepted and understood by all traditional peoples, it can conceive of no faculty which could perceive an objective universal quality such as beauty; nor can it conceive of the existence of such an objective universal quality.

For the traditional mind, all worldly beauty is the reflection of Divine beauty. Earthly things may participate to a greater or lesser extent in the absolute beauty of the Divine, and to that precise extent do we rightly call them beautiful or not beautiful.

Beauty and order are not precisely the same thing, but they are very closely entwined. The beauty-half of the equation rightly belongs to Sai Sushuri and the order-half to Sai Thamë. This is one reason why they are often said to be sisters.

The name of Sai Thamë, without a capital letter, is often used as a noun or an adjective. To say that something is thamë or athamë is to say that it is orderly or disorderly; but we must understand by this that we are speaking of its consonance or lack of consonance with the Universal Harmony, that which, in the words of an Aristasian Scripture, "holds the stars within their courses and a drop of dew pendant upon a blade of grass". This conception is neatly put in the Aristasian book The District Governess:

Harmony, Comeliness, Seemliness: such are the watchwords of Aristasian ‘Law and Order’—a phrase from another land which would not be in the least out of place upon Aristasian lips, but would carry with it quite another colouring. All law, to the Aristasian, is akin to the laws of mathematics or of music — an expression of the underlying harmony of being; all order fundamentally the order of a dance, which is ultimately the great dance of the cosmos, presided over by Thamë, the Angel of Harmony. To an Aristasian, grace in the sense of ‘gracefulness’ is not a different concept from grace in the thealogical sense. They are intimately bound up one with another — and all of life is intimately bound up with them.

Sai Thamë is thus the Janya of royalty and authority. The Empress or the Queen in Aristasia rules not by her own authority, but as the administrator of the Golden Order (Greek Chrysothemis: chrys meaning gold and Themis being the Greek name for Thamë, the original feminine form of Jupiter). The royal function is to reflect the eternal and changeless Order of Being, as is seen in the movement of the stars, into our earthly polity. Since we are in the lower world of flux and change, adaptations and adjustments need to be made from time to time, to allow for changing conditions. If this were not the case, new laws would never need to be made and the first order could stay unchanged throughout history. However, law-making should be as minimal as possible. The task of the law-maker is not to re-shape the world according to her own ideas or those of her friends, but is more akin to the steering of a ship. Her job is to keep a straight course — the same course as that of her wiser mothers — despite the buffetings of wind and wave. If there were no wind or wave, no steersmaid would be needed, but in the lower world of flux and change, adjustments must sometimes be made in order to keep our course. That, to the traditional mind, is the whole art of politics. The idea of parties and of opposing political opinions, upon which the rajasic world bases its polity is due to the principle of Vikhë, or conflict, entering into a sphere that should belong purely to Thamë. This, of course, is precisely what one would expect to happen in the Age of Iron.

Politics is not the only sphere in which this takes place. Since the Eclipse, the attack on order of every sort (and on its sister-principle of beauty) takes place in every conceivable sphere from dress and speech to art and entertainment. The attack on thamë in every area may be said to be the defining characteristic of the post-Eclipse world, and the restoration of thamë the heart-principle of Aristasia-in-Telluria.

If one word were to sum up the influence of Sai Thamë, that word would be harmony. In traditional philosophy, creation is often seen as an act of music. Thamë is literally the Music of the Spheres, the cosmic harmony that moves all things in their proper places and thus sustains them in being. For without that harmony, all would dissolve into chaos and nothingness.

Sai Thamë also governs rituals of all sorts, and thus the dance, which is not only the expression of harmony, but also, in its origins, of a ritual nature.

11th August >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 16:24-28 for Friday, Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time: ‘Anyone who wants to save his life will lose it’.

Friday, Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Gospel (Except USA) Matthew 16:24-28 Anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it.

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it. What, then, will a man gain if he wins the whole world and ruins his life? Or what has a man to offer in exchange for his life?

‘For the Son of Man is going to come in the glory of his Father with his angels, and, when he does, he will reward each one according to his behaviour. I tell you solemnly, there are some of these standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming with his kingdom.’

Gospel (USA) Matthew 16:24-28 What can one give in exchange for one’s life?

Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life? Or what can one give in exchange for his life? For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory, and then he will repay each according to his conduct. Amen, I say to you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see the Son of Man coming in his Kingdom.”

Reflections (4)

(i) Friday, Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Jesus declares in today’s gospel reading that becoming his follower will not always be easy. What does it mean to follow the Lord today, to walk in his way? The Lord’s way is the way of self-giving love. It is the way of generous service of others. I celebrated a funeral during the week and the woman’s family summed up her life by stating that she was a giver not a taker. I thought it was a wonderful tribute to their mother. To be a giver rather than a taker is what becoming a follower of the Lord means today. He was the supreme giver. In the end, he gave everything, his very life, out of love for us. In the words of today’s gospel reading, he lost his life. However, in losing his earthly life, he found eternal life, not just for himself but for all of us. His love which led him to give his earthly life for us all was life-giving for us all. Whenever we give of ourselves in love for others, we become more alive ourselves, as human beings, and we bring life to others, we help them to become more alive as human beings. Becoming a follower of the Lord will often mean renouncing ourselves in some way for the sake of others, in service of the well-being of others. Yet, Jesus assures us in the gospel reading that such renouncing of ourselves in service of others is not something negative. Rather, it is the path to true life for us and for all whom we serve.

And/Or

(ii) Friday, Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time

In the gospels Jesus often speaks in the language of paradox. One of the most striking instances of that is to be found in this morning’s gospel reading, when Jesus says, ‘anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it’. Another way of expressing that is to say, ‘if we seek ourselves only, we will lose ourselves, whereas if we reach beyond ourselves towards God and towards his Son Jesus we will find our true selves’. If we look to ourselves alone and our own needs and preferences, we risk losing ourselves, whereas if we look towards the Lord, which will always mean looking towards others, we will find life in this world and eternal life in the next. Jesus expressed this fundamental paradox of his teaching in another way when he said, ‘give and it will be given to you’. In other words, it is in giving that we receive. Our own experience of life teaches us the truth contained in this paradox. It is when we look beyond ourselves to others, to the Lord present in others, that we experience the Lord’s own joy, the Lord’s own life, which is a foretaste of the joy and life of the kingdom of heaven.

And/Or

(iii) Friday, Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time

In this morning’s gospel reading, Jesus declares that if anyone wants to become his followers they must be willing to deny themselves and take up their cross. Self-denial is not greatly in vogue at the present time. You are more likely to hear talk of self-fulfilment. In calling for self-denial Jesus is not trying to extinguish all joy or fulfilment in life. The self we are to deny is what we might call the false self, a way of life that is self-centred and self-absorbed, in which everything revolves around myself. This is the self that wants to be at the centre of everything and is constantly seeking its own satisfaction and gratification. Jesus declares that if we are to follow him, we must lose this false self. The loss of this false self will be painful; denying our self in this sense will entail a way of the cross. Yet, Jesus declares that this saying ‘no’ to our false self is the way to true life, to discovering our true self, ‘if anyone loses his life for my sake, he will find it’. Our true self, our best self, is the self that is open to the Lord’s love, that allows itself to be constantly transformed by that love and so, as a result, becomes a loving person, a self that puts the interests of others before one’s own. This is life in the true and full sense that Jesus promises to all who follow him and allow themselves to be led by him.

And/Or

(iv) Friday, Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Jesus asks a thought provoking question in this morning’s gospel reading, ‘What will a man gain if he wins the whole world and ruins his life?’ Jesus is suggesting that we can gain a great deal of what the world has to offer and values, and, yet, lose out at some more fundamental level of our being. We can gain the whole world and, at the same time, lose our life, lose that which makes us truly alive with the life of God. Jesus declares that the opposite is also true. People can lose a great deal of what is highly valued in the world and yet preserve their life, be fully alive with the life of God. Jesus tells his disciples and all of us in this morning’s gospel reading that it is in following him that we will find this fullness of life. Following the Lord will often mean often mean having to renounce ourselves; in that sense it will mean losing out in the eyes of many. Yet when this is done for the Lord’s sake, out of love for him, out of our desire to be faithful to his values, we will grow into our true selves, the self that is made in the image and likeness of our Creator. The call to renounce ourselves can sound very negative to modern ears. Yet, the Lord’s call is a call to fullness of life. Our self-denial is in the service of that fullness of life which he desires for us all.  

Fr. Martin Hogan.

Hello, thx for Your great work! I'm looking for pining while fucking with Crowley who think Aziraphael wants him only for sex because he is demon and it is all he can be good for, while Aziraphael loves him (ofcourse) and thinks that this whole "you foul fiend" is just game Crowley likes playing in bedroom. Thx.

Hi. We have some pining while fucking fics here, and while your request is a little specific here are some more, a few of which focus more on Crowley pining...

Technicalities by curtaincall (M)

Aziraphale is always very careful with his wording. Crowley's never really been in a position to question it.

Spirit Of Enquiry by Suzie_Shooter (M)

Crowley has always recognised Aziraphale's weakness for the more sensuous earthly delights such as food, music and alcohol - and indeed the way he takes pleasure in sharing them with Crowley - so with hindsight it really shouldn't have come as such a surprise to him when Aziraphale suggested adding sex to the list.

Crowley has one problem and one problem only with this suggestion - if they're sleeping together, can he go on hiding the fact he's in love with him?

(Six Thousand Year Old) Friends with Benefits by williamastankova (E)

Aziraphale proposes a second 'Arrangement', one that involves he and Crowley sleeping together. Angst, smut, and fluff ensues.

Your Mirror by equestrianstatue (E)

I'll be your mirror; reflect what you are, in case you don't know.

Crowley drummed his fingers briefly against his mug, and then sat back a little in his chair. He gave Aziraphale a long, appraising glance, and then seemed to come to some decision. “Listen, angel,” he said, “let me pitch you something.”

Lulled by the familiar patter of Crowley’s voice as he was, Aziraphale still recognised this to be vaguely dangerous territory. He swallowed. “Go on,” he said.

Warmth by indigo (E)

Friends with benefits really had to be the very best solution there was for any self-respecting immortal being on Earth. Handy. Convenient. The perfect way to de-stress with none of the hassle of trying to find a human willing to overlook the more demonic parts of appearance. It was reliable. Comforting even. Dependable, emotionless relief.

Perfect, Crowley thought.

Right up until the point when, well, it wasn’t.

The The Still of Your Hand by AshCommaMan & EmAndFandems (E)

Six thousand years is a long time to pine for someone. Two thousand years is a long time to have sex with someone. Seven hundred years is a long time to be friends with someone. Eternity is a long time to love someone. It's worth the wait.

Crowley and Aziraphale through the ages, as we've seen them - and some years we haven't - having lots and lots of emotionally fraught sex. Following from Rome to post-canon in 177K words.

- Mod D

To say that Inosuke's blood was boiling was quite the understatement. He seemed ready to explode as he sat in his chair, wrists virtually glued to the armrests as the lady before him painted his freshly cleaned nails into a deep, blood-red color.

Oh, he should have knowns this was a trap when rainbow-eyes promised to treat him later. He should never have walked past those doors.

The incessant cackle of voices was nothing short of insufferable. Honey, did you know? No, she didn't, and Douma was probably about to tell her. And I was like, "no waaaaaay!" Yes way, moron.

Inosuke rolled his eyes as slowly as he could manage. What was stopping him from breaking these lady's fingers, breaking out of this place, and setting fire to the entire mall?

"Uncurl those little fingers, young man." The lady told him off in a stern voice, inbetween two giggles at whatever delightful tale the blond young man was telling. Inosuke bit so hard into his lip that he drew blood.

Something prickled at the back of his head. The man was looking at him. As Inosuke allowed the words to reach his ears again, what little he caught immediately sent his rage off the meters. Something about the boars. The mud, the dirt, the benevolence one had to have to reach out to such a dirty hand, and offer it the roof it had always sought.

There was a shriek as Inosuke ripped his hand free and grabbed the vial of nail polish. The liquid spilled from its container as Inosuke chucked the bottle right at Douma, very much hoping that it would not only land right in his stupid face, but also stain his stupid clothes – and with some luck, spill into his stupid mouth as well.

He still remembers her eyes.

Big, doe-like, filled with wonder. Their color; a deep green like forest trees with veins of emerald and glimmering gold; the sort of thing you can only find on ancient temple statues and be humbled before the beauty that can come from mere earthly rocks. Thick lashes laden with tears. Her dillated pupils had harbored his reflection, her lips, soft and puffy, had donned that final gasp so delicately. And then—

Every tme he looks at that child serves as a reminder of that night.

Dōma tends to avoid it. His days are flooded with activities that leave little space for mulling over several themes in his life; and more often than not, the menace in his custody gets dragged along for the ride. The smile stretches further on his visage, facing his appointed nail lady with near unblinking elation. Eternal Paradise has several business fronts. This salon is just one of many. And Mei-Mei here, she has known Dōma since he was about Inosuke's age.

❝ She was absurd about it, Auntie. ❞ As most of the older women in the Family were often referred to. ❝ We aren't even together and she expects a full report of my day and night? It reads a little toxic, in my opinion. ❞

" She is insecure, being next to a man like you. But that's nothing new, for a woman. Men like to be mothered and some women pick up on that and think it applies to everyone. You don't need this kind of energy in your life, honey, take it from me. Right now... " She nods towards Inosuke. " — you should be focusing on stability. I've been married seven years and I know first hand what it takes to raise a child. You need a partner that can show up, not add more fuss to your life. " The 'Auntie' comments nonchalantly, whilst glossing over his pinky. It is held up in her hardened grip, confessing to a lifetime of toil. Dōma's flawless skin is a stark juxtaposition; as is the blase look he wears whilst browsing through his Instagram feed.

❝ Mhm. ❞ Nonchalantly, prismatic eyes traverse the room for the one in question. Inosuke is seething on the manicure chair, just as Auntie's colleague, another girl from the cult that was offered a job here, tries to reason with the kid. A huff slips through Dōma's teeth. The woman lowers her voice, leaning a bit closer over the manicure table.

"How is it going, with the little one? " Dōma purses his lips.

❝ Ah... there's been some challenges. He has learned so many misconceptions, out there with the boars and whatnot— but it's a slow pro-- ❞

Hushed words cut with the abrupt movement from somewhere in the room. The girl lets out a squeak when something is flung across in the Dōma's direction; it's cool and thick when it connects. A spritz of red paints the counter and drips down his chin onto his silk shirt. The fabric stains crimson. Dōma's eyelids flicker in effort to push a droplet out.

"Good gracious heavens!" 'Auntie' exclaims. She turns harshly towards the girl that sits stunted on her knees. "Well don't just stare like that, go, fetch towels!" What other clients were present in the background are roused; coming to Dōma's aid. Within a couple of labored blinks he is surrounded by warm towels, wipes and a glass of water — as if the entire ordeal would have shocked his throat dry. But the man merely looks down, demurely tapping at the fresh stain in his lap. He reaches for the bottle, but someone gets it for him first, with the expected word of reassurance.

Don't worry about it. How can I help?

I'm so sorry! Would you like me to rub it clean?

Oh, what a disaster! Lord Founder, I can wash your shirt for you!

Is there something you need? What can I get you?

They flock to him; drawn into the humility of such a measured reaction. The most appropriate one, some might say, when dealing with a problem child. 'Auntie' spares Inosuke a scolding word in the meantime; something about messing up her salon. Only then does Dōma seem to perk up — quick to brush past the people crowding his seat and interject.

❝ I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, 'Auntie', I will send someone to clean up this mess, okay? I apologize for the mess and the inconvenience. But I think we should just go. Inosuke, where is your coat— ❞ He begins to shuffle about, knowing well the child most likely would reject putting it on in either case.

"Don't apologize-- are you sure you don't need us to drop you off somewhere--"

❝ No, that's fine.It's fine. I'll just call Nara to come pick us up. ❞

And that he would. Without a second look towards the child. Without so much as a scoff.

Ficlet Week Challenge (schedule here)

Day 5: (Not) Out of Character - if the character is usually a “goody” make them do something “bad” and vice versa if they’re a “baddie”

Hugh Macphail - His Dark Materials

It was disheartening to see that those around Father MacPhail prioritized faith beneath power and earthly pleasures. No wine is so sweet that it can make up for the eternity of bliss that was waiting in the Kingdom. MacPhail had his ambitions, but it was only in service to the Authority and spreading His word. It was completely selfless. Anyone with any sense should be able to see that. His restraint was comparable to none, more than those who have always abstained from their desires. It is much more difficult to be consumed and find your way out to become clean once again.

Forgetting is much harder, and no amount of work on his spirit or flesh has been enough to remove it from his mind. He can see it in others, stains on their hands that cannot be hidden no matter how well they perform.

His colleagues thought Mrs. Coulter had a bright future ahead of her and for a while he agreed. He didn’t pay her as much attention as others liked to, not his cup of tea, but he understood that she had a charm that was useful. Hugh was not as gifted with words as she, and it was difficult not to envy that skill. But she lacked MacPhail’s composure, she was on the edge at all moments. Even she hadn’t already, her fall would come soon.

Her husband was a pleasant man to do work with though he liked to stay friendly with all parties. Eventually he would have to choose, and part of MacPhail’s job was making sure that when compromise was no longer an option, Edward Coulter would favor the Magisterium.

“It’s good to give them room to keep them docile,” MacPhail said, “but we don’t want them getting any notions, do we?”

Edward’s face looked like he heard a joke, “Notions? Father MacPhail, I think we are far away from any of those.”

The stream before MacPhail ran black in the night. A new moon was in the air and there was no natural light to guide him, only the artificial anbaric lights from the fundraising gala behind him. The Magisterium had set up a young man to become the face of the next generation of Brytain. This support was all done in double speak and convoluted pathways for the money to be deposited in the right bank accounts. The Coulters were there to show they were good sports and didn’t mind the subtle challenge to Edward’s status in the Brytish government. MacPhail correctly assessed that he was a competitor at heart and would adjust his sails to whoever provided the strongest gust of wind. Already he was amending his public talking points. 

Thanks was owed to Mrs. Coulter for securing her husband more allies than he possibly could have collected on his own. There was a reason the Magisterium was eyeing the two as a package deal.

But MacPhail was slouching on his duties by sulking alone away from the crowd. A face in the crowd looked like someone from a past he had put behind him, the shock was enough to stop his heart if he didn’t get his nerves under control. Octavia, his more disciplined half, whispered words of encouragement as he sped away. It probably wasn’t even the man Hugh thought it was.

Octavia crawled from one shoulder to the other. “Lord Boreal is expecting to speak with us. We best go back inside before he senses instability.”

MacPhail nodded and gathered the long skirts of his robe before making his strides uphill to those pale lights.

“Shhhhh!”

MacPhail turned his head to his daemon wondering what she must have spotted, but her head was turned elsewhere. It wasn’t her voice that made the noise.

A young couple embraced in the darkness with only the soft reflections off the satin fabric giving away their movements. At first, it was not disgust that came over Hugh, but appreciation. He found nothing abhorrent about a couple in matrimonial bliss enjoying the privileges of their union. It was those that stole those privileges that made him sneer. MacPhail recognized the laughter of the woman, and he knew that the man from his stature, was not her husband.

The sneer was present on Hugh’s face and he was already placing the weight on his toes ready to spring forward and expose those two as the frauds and adulterers they were.

But.

The motion of the man’s hand down the woman’s side poked at a familiar bruise in Hugh’s mind. It was enough to make a lump form in his throat. That little movement rendered him speechless and turned his feet to stone. Bliss.

Hugh turned his head to the sky and muttered a prayer to the Authority to release him from this spot on the earth and let him be free to go anywhere else as long ass it was away from this terrifying vision. He felt drops of rain make impact on his face. The prayer had been answered and MacPhail managed to put one foot in front of the other to walk away. But the mercy was done by half, and he found himself brought to silence.

Lord Boreal’s hand gripped his. “Father MacPhail, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Apologies, Lord Boreal, I needed to take some air. I don’t find nights like these as amusing as others do.” His tone was flat and emotionless, as he needed it to be.

Octavia crawled up MacPhail’s sleeve to hide. Hugh wanted to open his mouth and tell the entire gala what he had bore witness to just minutes earlier. Something in him would not allow it. The man he thought he recognized, the one who struck him to the bone, was leaving the room. Only the back of his head was visible.

It’s been recorded that the sinners receive mercies of their own. Hugh MacPhail would regret giving this one to those two.

The mystery of evil, sin, illness and death and their place within our struggle toward holiness is something only God can illuminate for us through the gift of faith. Light in the midst of darkness often doesn't come in the manner that we would expect and understanding doesn't come easily. Rather, it comes from uniting ourselves and giving ourselves over entirely to the One who transformed the mystery by entering into it fully by stretching Himself out upon the Cross. He invites us to follow him there; to take up, in faith and love, the cross even unto death; assuring us that to do so is to participate in His redemptive work. Christ calls us not to be afraid of this cross, but to carry this mystery within our very bodies, trusting that He who rose from the tomb and conquered death continues that redemptive work within us and will bring us and others to eternal life through it. By grace "death works in us" in ways we often don't understand. I was particularly struck by St. Ambrose's reflection on this in the Office of Readings. Ambrose bids us in the words of St. Paul to:

"'carry round the death of Jesus in our bodies: for whoever has the death of Jesus in his body, will have the life of the Lord Jesus too in his body'.

Death then must already be active in us if life too is to be active; and by life and happiness after death, we mean life and happiness after victory, when the battle is over, when the law of the flesh is no longer at variance with the law of the mind, when there is no longer a struggle between us and our fallen nature. I am not sure that this death is not a higher state than life, and we have the authority of the apostle for this: 'Death works in us but life in you.' Think of the vast number of people who owe their life to one man's death. And so the apostle teaches us that we must embrace Christ's death while we are still alive in this world so the splendor of his death may shine out in our body. This is the death which leads to happiness, by which our outer nature wastes away so that our inner nature may be renewed; our earthly habitation is pulled down so that the gates of our heavenly home may be unlocked."

Metaphorically a man dies when he breaks away from the thralldom of the flesh and casts off its bonds, of which the Lord says to us by the prophet Isaiah: 'Loose every bond of wickedness, dissolve unjust contracts, let the oppressed go free, break all dishonesty.'

The Lord allowed death to makes its way into our world so that guilt should come to an end; but lest human nature should perish by death he ordained the resurrection of the dead. Thus by death guilt should have an end, but the resurrection human nature should endure for ever.

Death in this sense is a pilgrimage, a lifetime's pilgrimage which none must shirk, a pilgrimage from decay to imperishable life, from mortality to immortality, from anxiety to unruffled calm. Do not be afraid of the word death: rather rejoice in the blessings which follow a happy death. What is death after all but the burial of vice, the flowering of goodness? Hence the words of scripture, 'Let my soul die in the souls of the just', that is, let it be buried with them and so slough off its own vice and be clothed in the grace of the saints who carry round the mortification of Christ in their own bodies and souls."

"...to live in the profane world is to be constantly assaulted by ignorance masquerading as wisdom and by a hopelessly distorted scale of values. The cult of the ‘news’ is the nearest thing to a religious observance in modern society. Every day, several times a day, without fail, ‘news’ is pumped out by the numerous profane mass-communication media. And what is the message of this cult? That the important things are politics, money, industry, material wellbeing; and a continual preoccupation with what is new as opposed to what is timeless— with the up-to-date as opposed to the Eternal.

"Where Spirit has any place in the profane world, it is as an optional extra; something tacked loosely on the top of everything else. This is an inversion of values absurd to the point of the grotesque; for Spirit is the Centre—the organising principle. In the true Madrian-matriarchal civilisations, the whole of society was seen as one great temple to Dea, and all of life as one exuberant act of devotion.

"That is the natural pattern of earthly life. The seasons passing in their order are an eternal showing-forth of the cycle of the Divine Mysteries. The crafts of maidkind are a reflection in miniature of the Absolute Creativity of Dea. All life is designed to partake of the nature of a sacred Rite."

— Sister Angelina

Bible study ~ Megan

Hi everyone it's Megan (@lucyandethel) and I am here with the first installment of a new series we are going to be doing over here where we read the Bible and then post it here with our thoughts! None of us are preachers and we are all teenagers so this isn't going to be perfect or consistent but hopefully, it will make sense and touch the souls of those who need it. I personally love hearing different people interpretation's and if you enjoy that as well then stick around!

KEY: Bold: Jesus' words, Highlighted: what I highlighted in my Bible, italics: my thoughts

John 3:1-21

Jesus Teaches Nicodemus

Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council. He came to Jesus at night and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him."

Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.”

“How can someone be born when they are old?” Nicodemus asked. “Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!”

Jesus answered, "Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”

This means that no matter what, unless you are baptized in the Holy Spirit unless you believe in Jesus and love Him with your entire heart you won't go to Heaven. A scary thought I know. I myself sometimes get a ball of anxiety in my stomach thinking about that, but here is something to reflect on. Think about all of the things God has done in your life, all of the blessings, big and small, that He has given you. Do you have a few in mind? Good. Now think about how those blessings wouldn't have happened without God and Jesus. See? You may have just started holy believing or maybe you realize you've believed for a long time but whenever you get that ball of anxiety at the thought that you might not go to Heaven, remember my little trick.

“How can this be?” Nicodemus asked.

“You are Israel’s teacher,” said Jesus, “and do you not understand these things? Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony. I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things? No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven—the Son of Man. Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”

When Jesus says "No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven-the Son of Man." He doesn't mean himself, he means everyone who believes in and loves him.

"Just as Moses lifted up that snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him." Now in this context,, He does mean Himself when He refuses the Son of Man. You need to use context clues when it comes to things like that.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son. This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.

Miracle Week: Encounter the Resurrector

Jesus Raises a Dead Girl

💜 While Jesus was still speaking, someone came from the house of Jairus, the synagogue leader. “Your daughter is dead,” he said. “Don’t bother the teacher anymore.”

Hearing this, Jesus said to Jairus, “Don’t be afraid; just believe, and she will be healed.”

When he arrived at the house of Jairus, he did not let anyone go in with him except Peter, John and James, and the child’s father and mother.

Meanwhile, all the people were wailing and mourning for her. “Stop wailing,” Jesus said. “She is not dead but asleep.”

They laughed at him, knowing that she was dead.

But he took her by the hand and said, “My child, get up!”

Her spirit returned, and at once she stood up. Then Jesus told them to give her something to eat.

Her parents were astonished, but he ordered them not to tell anyone what had happened.

~Luke 8:49-56 ✝️

Devotional

What in your life feels like it's dead or dying? Where has purpose vanished? Where has hope evaporated?

This Holy Week, we're reflecting on Jesus' earthly miracles as we seek to tangibly encounter the miracle-working God.

We've been discovering that everything Jesus did on this planet hinted towards a bigger picture: Humanity's redemption. Christ's whole life was a motif. Every miracle unveiled His eternal purposes. Every word revealed His messianic identity. Jesus is a living, breathing expression of God's cosmic salvation plan. The kingdom of heaven had arrived.

Today, we meet Jesus as our resurrector.

All four Gospels describe Christ's resurrection. However, three of them also record a separate occasion where Jesus raises a dead person. Resurrection is a recurring theme for Jesus. Death flees in His presence.

Our passage recounts the story of Jairus' daughter.

Whenever we find resurrection in scripture, it should stop us in our tracks. Not only do these episodes anticipate Jesus' own resurrection, but they also substantiate Jesus' claim to be the eternal "resurrection and the life" (John 11:25). It's our reminder that Christ wasn't just some moral teacher. He's the holy God: The sole bringer of life and conqueror of death.

Today's episode, then, invites our contemplation.

"Imaginative prayer" is an immersive spiritual exercise that brings scripture off the page. It involves mindfully putting ourselves into a Biblical scene, prayerfully contemplating the events with the Spirit's help. We imagine the sights, sounds and smells as if we were there. It's a practice which encourages us to engage with Jesus' reality.

Let's try an example.

Pause for a moment. Use today's scripture to picture the scene as Jesus enters Jairus' house.

What do you see? What can you hear?

Listen to the overwhelming grief. The wailing. The pain. Continue moving closer. Enter the room where Jairus' daughter was laid.

Watch as Jesus takes the girl's hand. Listen to His words: "My child, get up!"

Don't rush. Experience the moment. Observe life flooding through the girl. Tune into the shock, joy and weeping.

Embrace what's just happened: Jesus has brought a dead girl to life! This is the spectacular God you serve.

In today's cynical world, we cannot become numb to Christ's miracles. They're a megaphone revealing God's purposes to us. By raising Jairus's daughter, Jesus shows, ahead of time, his Father's power over the ultimate enemy. He treats death as if it were sleep!

Hear those words again: "My child, get up!"

Let them resonate in your own soul.

Without Christ, we're all dead in our sin, lost and without hope. Yet, in Christ, our Heavenly Father's voice shatters the darkness: "My child, get up!" He's talking to you.

This is Easter's message. Death has been defeated. In Jesus, you're raised to new life. Find space today to meditate on God's unfathomable power. You have nothing left to fear. 🙏🙂💜

Source: Glorify App

Image: Google

My Glorify Referral Link: https://share.glorify-app.com/MRSPINO777 ✝️

Hello again ! I'm sorry for bothering you with my clumsiness TT. Thank you so much for giving me another chance 🤍

Nickname : nop ? I guess ? Everyone tends to call me that, my initial is N. Aquarius sun.

Pronouns : She/Her

Soulmate type : ❤️ Romantic Soulmate, because like i said i secretly long for that one special person and because my love life feels so black and white i'm kinda curious about it.

Concept of Love : Love means a deep sorrow to me, it does brings at least to me happiness, nostalgia, and all but i find myself having this sorrowful feelings towards the person i love no matter what is the situations. For me, Love means eternity i believe so much in reincarnations and all so i tend to have this belief that my life partner might changes every lifetime but i strongly believe at the end there is this only one soul that i will return to when all this earthly things end. So for me, Love = Eternity = Soulfully

Thank you !!! Happy Valentine's Day once more time 🍫🍫🍫

Hello Nop! Thank you for joining Your Entwined Bonds! Happy Valentine's to you as well 💐🍫 ✨

Nop, the first thing I noticed from your soul essence is her reflecting, blinding golden light. It reminded me of golden fragments and how the light shines differently as you rotate it around.

The place that I met your soul in was space. Countless bright stars illuminate beautifully amidst dark midnight blue cosmos. Your soul felt childlike at first glance, full of curiosity, bubbly but mature. She feels to be the kind who loves to have fun but has a side where she is serious and nurturing as well.

She has wavy hair that looks like a mix of brunette and blonde from an orb of blue behind her. She has fair skin. The orb emanates from her being, that's her essence. She has this mutable changeable quality in the sense that she could present herself in various different ways like how a golden jewel could shine in different ways when you look at it from different angles. This quality is powerful and unique because it means that if ever there's someone who wants to pry or hurt her these people would not be able to see her true form. She has the power of illusion. Due to her mutable nature she could also be stern and wise depending on which side of her she feels you need to see. She also has goddess energy because her strong creation force is akin to the strong creation force that gods and goddesses possess in how they could create or destroy a realm, place or creation with great power effortlessly. Her energy is like the combination of light with the air energy in water fountain vapour (you know the vapour produced in water fountains that's different than normal water vapour - livelier, more energetic) plus her creation energy, which is cosmos energy.

Your soul's message to you

Your soul would like you to enhance your connection with her as she has a great deal to teach you, and would like you to receive messages directly from her. She wants you to know that she will provide you the energy to do that to help get you started, the rest like the effort you put in would be up to you. You are the receiver of her call.

After your soul has imparted her message, I asked if she could lead the way towards your romantic soulmate. She agreed, and gestured towards behind me. A portal of great white light opened and I stepped into it. It felt like entering a spaceship because of the oval open space of the opening but as I stepped in I realised it was really a spaceship but it was an open space without much furniture or facilities apart from some white benches, it's like the lobby of a spaceship. A man in all black approached me, very politely and enthusiastically invited me to come in and take a seat (we actually didn't take a seat - I guess both of us felt too excited for the interview so we just stood there the entire time). He had a black helmet which he took off to talk to me. He has dirty blond hair and light brown skin. There's something rosy in his aura or energy that reminded me of sakura flowers.

He introduced himself and told me his name which I'll send to you in private because the true names of beings can be a secret to them. His initial is E. He said he knows it is a strange name to us humanfolk. Guy has a sense of humour xD

As our conversation progressed like an interview, my questions would be in highlight. I'd like to note that throughout this interview E has been a wonderful conversationalist, charismatic and expressive. Most importantly, he truly cares a lot about you.

"So what do you want to know?" he asked.

"Nop would like to get to know you. What do you think of her nickname, n-o-p Nop?"

A smile bloomed across his face and he said it's like a peaceful river and a simple but elegant flower bloomed beside it. He likes it.

Who are you and what do you do in this spaceship?

He laughed and gestured all around the spaceship like it's his home and he's showing it to me. He said he's the commander of this ship. He and his team do expeditions across space.

What are those expeditions for?

He said they're to find out different places in the universe, different floras, people, places, see where they could go and find a place they could set base, establish connections.

What do you think about the Earth, where Nop comes from?

"I'm sure any place with her around is beautiful," he mused. "With that being said, it's an environment that can be toxic so it means she'd have to grow to be stronger, tougher against adversities she'd have to face." He showed me a vision of a flower growing in mud, in an environment that's difficult for its growth and indicated that that's you. His eyes were very soft, full of gentleness at this thought of you.

What are your favourite memories in past lives with Nop?

He recounted a past life where you were a flower fae and he was a cosmic entity. He was in love with you and you him. He kept wooing you. It is this mutual attraction, a bit playful, a bit nostalgic that is always treasurable to him. But unfortunately you both could not be together forever because you had a shorter lifespan than him but he kept thinking what if it could go on forever, what if it never ended. It certainly goes on and on in his memories, and he will keep it with him for the rest of his life.

What are the memories that you believe Nop needs to remember in the past lives with you?

"Remember me, in general. Remember herself. Remember how she loved. There's a great deal to remember and know about herself from the ways she used to love. She'd understand who she was and how she came to be, to grow, y'know. That's precious. To think someone would reincarnate and lose that part about herself and having to search for it again in different lifetimes. I truly wish she wouldn't have to go through it again, or at least let me accompany her."

How did Nop use to love?

He looked away for a minute, I saw red in his eyes, he felt a lot of emotions and nostalgia thinking about you. He couldn't speak for a minute and gestured at the direction of your soul, whom I saw floating peacefully amidst a pool of yellow light. He lightly remarked that your love felt just like that - all-encompassing, there are a thousand ways you could make someone feel loved. It's like caring for a sick animal, your love reminded him of that, and your gentleness, your faith for people. There have been countless times you've supported him, helped him see the light when he himself have drown to the bottom feeling dejected and hopeless. Your love means to him hope in a sense, and saving him, saving all who you love and all who have felt your love.

What are the ways she has supported you, pulled you out of the dark?

He talked about a past life where you were a nurse (with dark brown braided hair) and he was an injured greyish white rabbit. He was in a lot of pain, he felt like just giving up but you didn't give up on him, you treated him with so much care and love he just couldn't forget what you did for him. You made it hurt less and less. At that point you felt like his angel, you were his angel.

What are the ways she has saved you from feeling hopeless?

He said you were his wife in a lifetime. Whenever he met a blockage at work you'd offer him your precious suggestions, help him get through countless challenges. You were like the steering wheel of a ship, you gave him a sense of groundedness and peace of mind, like as long as you're around he knew he could do it and could set his plans into motion.

What are your messages to Nop?

He just wants you to know that you are an amazing person, he wants you to know your true self, and that you have an innate power in you that you could release. Those things that you kept telling yourself, those awful things you believed about yourself, those aren't true, even if they are true they are only temporary errors that you can change or improve. He wants you to realise your strengths. If anybody tells you BS about yourself or tries to pull you down he hopes that you don't trust them or take them seriously.

Will you be meeting her in her present earthly incarnation?

He pondered for a moment, he said he does have someone in the present incarnation but it's hard to say because things haven't been set in motion yet, but he's eager to meet you in the physical world, he said he's been waiting for a long time. From the vision he showed me it's a man in his 20s. He feels to be an artistic person, passionate about his artistic vision, someone who has a lot he wants to show to the world, he has very creative and innovative ideas. He has light brown skin tone, dark hair that's slightly curly. Moderate build.

What are your parting words with Nop, in this reading?

"You know I never want to part with you. I'd rather this reading never happened so that means I'd still have you by my side but it is what it is. I'll go down there and I'll meet you, promise."

"Thank you for doing this interview with me!" I said.

"Pleasure to meet you," he said, and offered his hand. We shook hands, he gave a slight bow, and off I went.

Now, I usually don't include the saying goodbye part with beings because it usually just involves them teleporting away but the way he said goodbye reflects his personality and manner of socialising. Plus it feels very human, I think that really reflects how he closely understands different cultures considering he's one who has been to various planets.

That's it! I hope this reading provided you love, comfort and happy feelings. Please remember to give feedback 💐💐💐💐💐💐 Wishing you the loveliest Valentine's day again 🍫🍫🍫

Sept. 20 Katherine Wolf

Julia Del Vecchio-- Readerly Exploration #3

Main Idea: Comfort and absence of pain are not what make our lives truly good, and we must teach the children that “life can be hard and good at the very same time.”

Nuggets: I love how Katherine sees each of our lives as a story which is ultimately good. She also redefines what it means for something to be truly good. Let me explain what I realized from looking at life with this perspective. At the end of my life, it will have gone exactly the way that God wanted it to go. By nature, he cannot write a bad story that does not bring him glory at the end. And bringing him glory is what life is about. It is not about us. But the coolest thing ever is that God wants to share that glory with us. So in everything we go through, we can know that Jesus is sitting at the right hand of God and interceding for us/pleading on our behalf, he is always with us, he loves us, and he wants the best for us which is sharing in his glory for eternity. Even though we sometimes can’t see in the moment how our lives are being used for the purpose God has made them for, we can have hope and joy in hardship because we know that he has equipped us “to do the hard in the good story he is writing”. Because of this, we must teach children that “life will be hard but good at the very same time.”

Reflection of Readerly Exploration: Habit-- Read a wide variety of genres and formats of texts to grow in their knowledge and experiences as a reader. Exploration-- Identify a song that communicates the same or similar big ideas of the assigned reading and choose an excerpt that represents those shared ideals.

For this assignment I connected Katherine’s speech with a song by John Mark Pantana. The song is called “I Know Just What You Need” and the lyrics are written from God’s perspective. They are: 

"Every time

Yes every word

You've thought or dreamed

Inside your world

Oh I'm loving you

Your messy symphony

Every smile is just like a poem

My lovely child that I composed

Oh I've crafted you

Your every part is from me

I know just what you need

I know just what you’re feeling now

That constant little heartache

Is crying for a fire from my love again

Every fling

And every cry

You’ve had and poured out from your eyes

Oh I’m near to you

Just bring it all to me

Your every cells just like a home

That I can live and love and hold

Oh I’ve crafted you

Your every part is from me

I know just what you need

I know just what you’re feeling now

Your heart's inside of mine

And I’ll pour the wine that I made for you again

I know just what you need my love"

John did a beautiful job of articulating how God knows us, and unconditionally, unreservedly, and ferociously loves us. It made me think about the assignment that He has placed on each of our lives. Katherine explains that God has equipped us for this life with everything we need-- mostly himself because He sustains us.

I also thought about how just what we need might not be just what we want. One of the lyrics from another John Mark Pantana song called "Taste and See" (my favorite) is, “Sweeter than the honeycomb, richer than the wine, better than the finest things that we can taste in this life… survey all the earthy goods and they'll fail you every time.” Comfort in life does not grow us, but pain does, and our kids NEED to know that. What a connection these songs are to the deep "peace of conscience, joy of the holy spirit, fruition of his presence in this life and assurance of his face in the next” that Katherine discussed. Earthly comforts cannot satisfy like this hope can. In all of the unexpected, hurt, loss, and suffering, God is writing an ultimately good story that he has prepared us for and in which he is giving us exactly what we need (even though we may not realize it). We must go through hardship to realize our need for him to fill us... to realize that we must change who we are and live life with opened hands so that we can receive all of what he has for us. Overall, listening to this song helped me to view parts of Katherine’s speech in deeper ways; and gave me more of an appreciation for its message. Now, not only do I feel more comforted, but I feel a more urgent calling to share hope and love with my future students!

Yanira Collado, Untitled, textile, house paint, oil pastel, chipboard on the custom-made frame, 2021, Frost Art Museum. The use of textiles reoccurs in the work of Yanira Collado as she alludes to histories of quilting, abstract modes of communicating, and the garment industry, among other influences. This work belongs to a series of assemblages produced by the artist from fabrics collected between 2010 and 2015. The original owners of the fabric associate pivotal moments in their lives with these materials. Through the collection of used clothing and decorative textiles, Collado creates a type of archive that preserves community members' feelings associated with transformation, transcendence, or healing. The compositional order of the fragmented forms reassembled here relates to various histories of textiles and architecture. María Berrio, The Petition, 2020, Bronze with patina Museum purchase with funds provided by Andre Sakhai María Berrio (b. 1982, Bogotá, Colombia) crafts scenes and imaginary landscapes that speak of female strength, intercultural connectivity, migration, and humankind's relationship to nature. Her densely layered and patterned collages, crafted from Japanese paper, appear like daydreams of her native Colombia. Drawing from the artist's own biography, Berrio's works reflect complex realities that connect cross-cultural references of global migration with South American folklore through kaleidoscopic utopias. "A lot of my work is autobiographical … it could be about me, or my time in the world and how lam feeling or what I am imagining," she says. Her first sculptural work, the cast bronze The Petition, depicts a lifeless female figure lying on the ground surrounded by three life-size ibises, appearing to guard or mourn the woman's body. "To me, birds symbolize freedom of the soul and transcendence of the earthly human form," Berrio says. In many of her works, the relationship between the human figure and their animal counterparts is one of equanimity, portrayed side by side interacting at eye level rather than in a hierarchical relationship. The artist says, "The springboard to our future liberation requires an understanding of our place in nature, conceiving nature as not something to be dominated and ordered, or from placing our species as somehow beyond the rhythms of the world." With The Petition, mortality and its eternal cycle of life and death become the connecting element between humans and animals. @bodiesfall2022