#archive of devotion

[shisasan]

20 June 1914, Rilke and Andreas-Salomé: a love story in letters (1897-1926) [ID: Date — 20 June, 1914 Text —And the more gazed-upon world wants to prosper in love. END ID]

[penvisions]

stages of devotion {holiday hustle}

Pairing: Holiday Impaired! Joel Miller x Expert Holiday Baker! Reader

Summary: The holidays came fast this year, but with it comes a father and daughter pair you didn't ever expect to see again.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: holiday triggers, holiday stress, baking stress, food industry triggers, family issues, minor off screen family dynamics, super soft yearning, mutual pining, sexual tension, smut, p in v, creampie, joel's dirty talk deserves its own warning, lemme know if i missed any!

A/N: so its a few days after the holiday that i announced this on. so so sorry for the tease, y'all. finally made it to my "weekend" only to get sick :c trying to make the most of the days though (within reason). love y'all and hope you enjoy this!

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

The holiday season sucks.

That’s about all you’re confident in as you twirl the piping bag in your hand for what feels like the thousandth time that morning. There’s an entire rack of pies beside you, tray after tray that needs to be garnished with cremieux and a little chocolate coin that has the first letter of your bakery branded on it in gold. Behind it are three more of the same pie. Behind that are four more of apple.

Apple and pumpkin. The only flavors you offered for the season. One hundred each, plenty enough to keep you afloat for the next month or so if you sell out. Especially if you sell out the display case as well.

Your bakery is small, just you and your friend Colbie. Something to be passed in the blink of an eye on the busy downtown street. But it was born of passion and creativity, a space you carved out in the big scary world all for yourself. You’re none the wiser of how your day will turn out as you continue to pipe the faintly black spotted vanilla over the remaining pies, moving onto fetching things out of the oven as timers begin to go off and garnish the ones already chilled from an earlier bake.

Just down the street, Joel and Sarah are strolling down the sidewalk from where they parked the car at the end of the block.

“Don’t see why the crew needs more food, baby girl.”

“Because we need to show our appreciation for them, dad. They’re working the morning of thanksgiving, for crying out loud.”

“This isn’t exactly a tax write off…”

“Dad!” The exasperated teenager nudges at his side with her shoulder, catching his ribs lightly. But he doesn’t stumble nor do his steps falter, he lets her win a lot of the time but this? He still loves how she tries to roughhouse with him only to realize that he’s always gonna have the upper hand unless he gives into her. Her pout and huff draws a laugh from deep in his chest.

“It’s true! I gotta pay for it all outta my account, not the business. We already picked up breakfast for everyone and half the men are gonna store it in their coolers for a later time.” He pivots her toward the doorway just past a large window display, squares of glass allowing for a glimpse inside a local bakery.

“Don’t you put the catering on the business card?”

“Well yeah, but their overtime for today is coming out of it too.”

“Maybe if we ask the owner, they can discount us or something?” Sarah is suddenly stopping just inside the threshold, watching with wide eyes as her father walks in behind her. The scent of fresh baked bread and flaky pastries welcomes them despite the empty lobby. “Is there a reason you’re so hesitant to use the company card? I thought the business was doing good?”

Joel heaves a heavy sigh, placing both his hands gently on her shoulders to hold her attention and give her all of his.

“Everything is fine, Sarah.” His brown eyes take in the way her own multifaceted ones gleam in the bright sunlight shining in the muted green space the lobby has been painted. Plants alive and well, live wood bar top against the window for people to sit at. “Money is my worry, but there ain’t nothing to worry about okay?”

“We can still ask after a discount, it doesn’t hurt, right?” Suddenly shy, her eyes break contact with his and turn down to her scuffed shoes. “I know that it’s new, but the therapy sessions aren’t exactly cheap or covered by the insurance.”

“Hey now, don’t go worrying about all that either.” Joel’s voice is so soft, floating through the air and sneaking into the kitchen through the siding of the swinging door. You pause in the rosette you were piping atop a cake, just little personal ones with autumnal flowers for the season. “I’m the dad, and that’s a dad thing, okay? You want to keep goin’ and that’s all that matters. Just want you to be okay, that’s all I ever want ‘cause I love you so damn much, okay?”

She nods once, still not bringing her eyes back up but she huffs out a giggle when he leans down and kisses her cheek, deliberately nuzzling the scruff on his cheek against her own.

“Besides, I don’t wanna bother them, baby girl, it’s such a small place.” With that settled they both turn back to the display cause and counter, just in time to see you approach through the window in the door.

“Joel?” There’s no hiding the smile that breaks out across your face as you push through the swinging door that leads separates the kitchen and public area. Even despite the inner turmoil you had endured after first meeting him. The will he won’t he of leaving your number for him…

“Camp lady! Dad, look, it’s her!” The excited teenager hops up and down on her long legs, arms hanging onto one of Joel’s and she jostles him. The slight melancholy of her previous words and worries forgotten with the aid of Joel’s soothing ones and your appearance. “You work here? That’s so cool!”

“Yes, Sarah, honey, I see her.” He rolls his eyes for you to see as she skips forward up to the counter. He looks good, if a little tired. His scruff is longer, body a little leaner than when you had seen him last…two months ago now. You had been so sure he would call or text, reach out in whatever way was easiest for him. And when he hadn’t…you had thrown yourself into work and prep for the holiday season. Reveling in the night you shared and taking it for what it was, not letting the lack of communication taint what had been an electric connection. His eyes are glued to you, ignoring the twirling and excitement of his daughter as she flits in front of the display case.

As you round the corner of the counter and display case, it’s obvious how busy you’ve been in the morning hours as stains darken the fabric. Reaching with a flour dusted hand, you go to shake the man’s hand but he surprises you and pulls you into a tight hug. The smell of his spicy cologne and wood shavings spurs butterflies to life in your belly and heat rise to your cheeks.

“It’s good to see ya, darlin’.” He whispers in your ear, voice all baritone gravel. He releases you just as Colbie enters back in through the front door. You see the way her eyes widen at the show of affection, she knows you better than anyone and casual touch is not something you’re a fan of. But you can tell that she immediately knows who Joel and his daughter are if the sparkle in her eye and the smirk she flashes at you says anything.

“I’m so sorry, I thought I locked the door behind me. Want me to keep it unlocked, we’ve got about fifteen minutes until we’re open.”

“Leaving it open will be fine, do you mind-“ The timer pinned to your apron tie goes off and a second later the one for the oven blares from the kitchen.

“Got it!” And she’s rushing behind the counter to slip back through the sliding door.

Joel looks like he’s about to apologize for barging in, Sarah leading him in the early hour. Coffee thermos left on the counter in the rush and his brain is working overtime without it. The pickup order she had placed with a breakfast place too busy for him to grab something there. You wave him off with a soft smile, not minding the intrusion one bit.

“My dad would not shut up about you on the way home, especially since we still have that air mattress you leant us! Thank you again so much for that, I didn’t want my dad to have to sleep on the ground with his bad back.”

“Hey now, you’re a little too forward with the embarrassing details.” Joel’s bashful words are bathed in an even tone, trying to parent his daughter but still treat her like the independent person that she is.

“So what can I do for you?” You try to fight the slight awkwardness of randomly happening across them as customers in your shop and you swear you see Joel duck his head as he roughs a hand across the back of his neck. Your causal tone and polite smile dousing the hope that had flared in his own chest when you walked out from the kitchen. “I’ve got plenty of pastries, the pies aren’t quite done yet but if you need one or two, I can add the finishing touches real quick?”

“Dad, we should get them pie! Like one each, you think? There’s five on the crew and then the secretaries too, they should get one since they’ll be waiting for us in the office. We can put the bonus checks on top with some pretty stickers! Oooh, dad we gotta stop at the art store now!”

“Sarah, honey, take a breath.” Joel claps hand over her shoulder and she beams up at him. “We only got half an hour to get to the office.”

“Oh, that’s okay! We can still do the pie each thing, right?”

“Whatever you wanna do,” He presses a kiss to the top of her head, her kinky curls flattening as he does so and earns him a grumbled ‘spent so much time on it this morning, old man’.

“So that was seven pies then?” You ask, trying to keep up with the both of them, they’ve got such an easy-going way that they communicate. Their bond obvious and their love pure as you had witnessed back at that campsite, he wants for her to have everything he can give her. It’s admirable, a good man, a good parent.

“Uh, make it ten, please.” Joel steps up to the counter, taking out his wallet from a back pocket. “Half pumpkin, half apple. So folks can pick whichever one they want.”

“Ten, got it. It’s gonna take me a few minutes to finish up, do you want a coffee while you wait?” And you swear his gaze hardens as he looks up to see the price displayed on the screen, card ready to press against the pad after you finished punching in his order on your own side of the register. The same way they had just before he had kissed you, angled toward you in front of that fire, the determination set his face in such an endearing way.

“Would be wonderful, darlin’. Just a black drip, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Hey, just so you know, ‘m sorry I didn’t call.” Joel shuffles on his feet, watching as Sarah starts up the truck and begins to dance to the loud beats he can make out through the cracked window. You had walked out with the pair to help load the bags into the extended cab of the gleaming gray truck. “I wanted to, but-“

“Life is hectic sometimes, it’s okay. I’m not gonna say I wasn’t disappointed, but I do understand.” You know he’s got a lot more going on in his life, with a child he’s raising on his own. The bakery keeps you busy, hours not quite the same as everyone. You never want to feel like you’re holding expectations for a life that just doesn’t fit into your schedule sometimes. And that included Joel, his own busy schedule not allowing for personal indulgences either. It’s hard not to feel like it’s a cruel twist of fate, that you two met only to realize the puzzle pieces of your life don’t quite match up.

“The paper, I had it. Put it in my pocket but my brother snatched the flannel instead of his own at the work site and washed the damn thing.”

“Little brother?” You tilt your head to the side, all too familiar with the chaos of sheer unpredictability one could bring.

“Yep, meddling, clueless little brother.” He’s fascinating, every little detail you learn about him draws you in closer, a pull toward the man you’ve only gotten glimpses of as of yet.

“Mine is pretty clueless too, god love him.”

“But- uh…oddly enough,” A large hand rubs at the back of his neck, the muscles of his arm straining against his flannel sleeve and catching your eye. “Mine is having a small dinner tonight, just us two, Sarah and his wife. Their twins. I know you got work today and don’t really know me at all, but I was wondering if-“

“Apple or pumpkin?” Lips pulling into a wide smile, you swear your heart is about to beat out of your chest, thudding wildly the second you realized where he was going with his explanation of his own holiday plans.

“Huh?”

“Do you want me to bring an apple or pumpkin pie?” You look up at him through your lashes, heat blooming in your chest at the insinuation he wanted you there, at the invitation you hadn’t been extended in years. Everyone always wanted the good you baked, the bread, the skills you had for the kitchen. But they never particularly wanted you around for the holidays. The family disappointment, for not being married, for not having kids, for not finishing school, for being too different.

“Darlin’ you don’t have to bring anything, just want you to come and be my date.”

And he couldn’t have said anything more perfect as you feel your throat constrict and tears well up in your eyes.

“Hey now, I mean it.” He’s shifting, hands reaching for you and you feel a little sorry for the ‘oof’ he lets out when you crash into his open arms. “Wanna get to know you, but only if you want that too. If we can carve out some time for each other.”

“Of course, Joel. That would…that would make me happy.”

“’m droppin’ Sarah off now, gotta head to the site for a few hours but I can pick you up here once I’m done. That sound okay to you?” He looks so hopefully, so happy that he can ask you in person, can ask to see you again now that he’s found you and it melts your heart. You’re sure the smile you give him is just as dopey at the one he’s beaming down at you.

“Yes, that sounds perfect. Here.” You pull away from him just enough to reach into your back pocket and brandish a business card at him. The thick cardstock is embossed in gold lettering, your name and number displayed on it proudly. “This is a little more permanent than a flimsy piece of paper.”

He pulls one of his own business cards out from his wallet as he securely puts yours away.

You continue to feel the warmth of his fingers passing it to you even hours later as you hold piping bags filled with cooled frosting, as you add frills and garnishes to pastries set in the cooler after leaving the oven a nice golden brown. And even as you feel your face heat up at the confrontation Colbie sneaks in throughout the day about your ‘gentleman caller’.

Around noon, Joel’s truck parks out front of the bakery. He’s showered, it looks like it as you see the shine to dark curls. He’s taken a shaver to his scruff as well, it’s not as long as it had been this morning.

“Please tell me you’re closed tomorrow.” Joel taps the hours displayed on the door as he steps through it, the gold lettering telling him that you were in fact not. But open at seven am sharp. Looking up from where you’re closing down the register, you hold up one finger up to indicate you need a moment.

As you continue, you can sense his gaze as it takes in the space you poured your blood, sweat and tears into. Devoted hours to manifesting and making it a reality. The case is completely empty, parchment paper adorned with errant crumbs all that he sees inside through the shiny glass.

When you step out from behind the counter, bag and keys in hand, you clock the second Joel realizes you’ve taken a moment to change as well. No longer in your dirty apron or black athleisure, but in a skirt that flows to about midthigh, tights underneath and a thin sweater. Your hair is down too, now, no longer pulled back into low pigtails and covered with a beanie for safety reasons around the kitchen.

“Darlin’, you look-“ He swallows, tongue watering as he takes in the sight of you all dolled up for him, for a date with him. “You look amazin’.”

“Just some spare clothes I had in my office. Didn’t wanna roll up to your brother’s house covered in flour and chocolate.” He’s shushing you as he ambles up, pressing his lips to your forehead as he cradles your face.

“He wouldn’t have cared and neither would I. Today is about family, no matter their shape or mess, got it? Miller households are safe places, you hear me?”

The drive over to his brother’s is short, the two of them in the same neighborhood but different blocks something that tickles you to know end. Watchful big brother, independent little brother who didn’t want to stray too far. It’s endearing, so different from you own family. Parents live upstate, brother is still in university, opting to live in the dorms instead of with you. Younger sister god knows where now, she pops up every year with a crazy tale of where she ended up for most of the time she had disappeared.

His brother doesn’t seem surprised in the least when Joel shows up on his doorstep with you at his side, his greeting a wide smile and bright eyes. His wife, Maria is just as easy going, just as welcoming. Praising you for bringing dessert and that she had totally blanked on it for after the meal in the hectic planning of the day.

The atmosphere is cozy, holiday cheer abundant despite the temperate Texas weather that plagues the state year round. Sarah is particularly excited to be helping out this year, the first she’s old enough to. A set of twins half her age run around with shrieking laughter as Joel and Tommy chase them around and keep them busy while you help out in the kitchen as well, not wanting to just show up and sit around waiting for everything to be done.

It's so different from your usual meal alone, normally just leftovers from the day before on a tray as you settle in bed and binge watch something once the bakery closes up.

It warms your heart and makes you feel full in a way that being with your family never has. From the easy going conversation with Maria, the light teasing and focus of following instructions from Sarah, stolen glances with Joel, the wide brimming smile of his brother as he realizes that the scene is a little more complete with you there now.

“Tell me I can kiss you, please.” Joe’s lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver at the vibrations that caress the sensitive skin. He’s been angling closer all afternoon, the couch cushions flattening and sloping. Pooling you closer to where his thick thighs rest, to the intoxicating warmth of his body and the heady smell of his spiced cologne. The movie credits are playing softly on the screen, everyone well fed and just now recovering to tend to things such as packing up leftovers and beginning to organize what was left.

The second you two were alone, Joel had used the arm he had slung up on the back of the couch around your shoulders to tug you in close. Tucking you into him, he used his other hand to pivot your legs into his lap. He’s kneading the skin there, over your tights. Thick fingers daring to trace higher and higher as he pulls back to look into your eyes.

“You’re so goddamn pretty, baby, can’t believe my streak of bad luck.” And at the flash of guilt in the depths of warm brown eyes, you surge forward and kiss him with a ferocity that startles him. The small ‘humph!’ and the tightening of his hand around your thigh curls desire low in your middle as his tongue eagerly meets yours as you part your lips.

“Bad luck, good luck. Doesn’t matter.” You manage between deep kisses, hands threading through the thick locks of chocolate curls atop his head. “We’re here now, I’m here with you.”

“Good.” He’s swallowing the moan that bubbles up from how he presses into you, how he pulls you flush with him.

“Joel! We got a house full of impressionable kids and you’re just makin’ out on the couch with the baker?”

The deep rumble of his chuckle does nothing but make your stomach jolt as heat lances through your core. The sound hitting deep and making you bury your face in the man’s neck as he parts only his lips from yours.

“Gotta embarrass me always, huh?” He’s holding you tight still, hands gripping and knuckles straining with the effort it’s taking to stop his ministrations.

“Just keep it in your pants, we’ve got everything packed up for y’all to take home. Sarah’s tucked into the spare room, helping out this year really took it outta her.”

“That where she snuck off to?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. We can watch her for the night. She don’t go back to school until next week right? Just come get ‘er tomorrow. And you,” Tommy aims twin finger guns at you. “Are welcome back anytime, Maria really appreciated the help in the kitchen but mostly I think she just loved having another woman around to chat with. Seriously, she’s gonna offer to come by the bakery and grab lunch one day soon.”

With that, Tommy saunters back into the kitchen with a snicker of his own and some words you can’t quite make out to the woman in question.

“Well, what do ya think?” Joel moves to whisper in your ear again. “Wanna come back to mine? Or I could take you home? Whichever you want, sweetheart.”

The sudden image of you and Joel tangled up on top of your bed has you kissing him full on the mouth one last time.

“Take me home and then take me to bed.”

Giddy anticipation fills the cab of his truck, the engine ticking as he shuts it off and just sits back for a moment. His eyes find yours and you can’t help the giggle that bursts from your chest, hands tangled and fingers twisting around each other in your lap. His hand reaches and takes one of your own, engulfing it with the sheer size difference. His beautiful hands that craft houses and woodwork, his beautiful hands that raised his amazing, rambunctious but sweet daughter, his beautiful hands that held his young nephew and niece with such care. His beautiful hands that you’ve felt explore your body twice now, the urge for him to do so again so strong it makes you feel dizzy.

“I can leave if you’re nervous, darlin’. No pressure, no hard feelings.” Joel Miller, the man that he is, knew just what to say to ease your worries.

“No, no. I just…”

“Thank you, for today.” You whisper, emotions getting the better of you. “I really thought that…this year I’d be alone again. My family only ever asks after desserts, always schedules the meal late and too far away for me to make the drive. I…I really liked spending time with you and your family today, they made me feel so welcome and included. It- it was really nice, Joel.”

The trembling of your lower lip is embarrassing but you can’t fight it off as you bare your heart to the man beside you.

“Hey now, it’s okay. I got ya,” He’s shuffling closer, the console pushed up to allow him to slide across the bench seat. “They loved you, ‘m sure they wouldn’t mind seein’ you more.”

And it’s easy, the way he soothes the turmoil in your mind, begins to help heal the trauma that bubbles up this time of year.

It’s easy how he kisses you and makes you feel like the most important person in the world.

It’s easy how he let’s you guide him into your home with clasped hands and a shy smile.

It’s easy the next morning when you wake up beside him, his naked body like a furnace under the sheets as it wraps around your own. The hours posted on your bakery door correct except for the day that follows any holiday. His breath little puffs against the back of your neck as you both share a pillow, while your exhalation becomes needy as you feel an ache between your legs. Little whimpers thrown into the air with no regard to how desperate they sound.

Heat sparks through you as you recall the desire in his hooded eyes the night before as you straddled him, taking your time with lowering yourself onto his hard cock, already dribbling when he had shucked his pants off for you to see all of him for the first time. The sight of him sprawled across your bed, head thrown on the pillows and bronze skin gleaming in the low lights strung up over your bed had all but turned you possessive. The memories were too much, kindling desire and pleasure in you in such a way that should be a warning in itself that you were fucked.

You were gone on him and you could only hope he felt the same way.

Soon enough, the shifting of your thighs to relieve pleasure that tingles there rouses him.

“Woke up needy, huh darlin’?” His voice is deep velvet, the early morning blessing him with such a soothing baritone that it almost has you rolling your eyes at it caresses over your skin much like his exploring fingers.

“Mhm, can still feel you. Right here-“ And his hand flattens against the soft give of your stomach where you guided it, just below your belly button.

“Fuck, that’s so hot, you have no idea.” He’s crowding you, body shifting to press your chest to the bed, his legs tangling with yours as he kneels behind you. He hinges your hips, bringing them up to rub the length of his cock between your glistening folds. “So full a me still, holding it like such a good girl for me.”

The whine of his name from your lips has him pushing in, slowly and carefully until his hips meet the back of your thighs. Turning it into a low moan that raises the hairs on the back of his neck. Your panting is all he can hear, the clench of your walls all he can feel as your back arches and you press back into him.

“Right here, huh?” His hand is still on your belly, and it presses now, pulling a yelp from you as the pressure in your core intensifies. Your cunt gushes around him, earning you a hiss as he grinds himself against you to make a squelching sound.

“Please please please tell me we’re going to do this again.” You move on him, pulling forward a bit, knees spreading and hands gripping tight to the sheets underneath you. Joel’s answering groan is more than enough but his voice delivers your fate in such an easy way.

“Oh darlin’, we’re gonna be doin’ this every day for the rest of our lives.” And with that he moves to grip your hips so tight you’re sure there will be reddened imprints of his fingers, pulling out in a slow drag before he slams back in and sets a brutal pace.

And maybe the holidays aren’t so bad, after all.

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[the-astral-archives]

Περσεφονη - Persephone

"Hymn to Phersephone. Daughter of Zeus, Persephone divine, come, blessed queen, and to these rites incline: only-befotten, Plouton's honoured wife, O venerable Goddess, source of life: 'tis thine in earth's profundities to dwell, fast by the wide and dismal gates of hell. Zeus' holy offspring, of a beauteous mien, Praxidike, subterranean queen. The Eumenides' source, fair-haired, whose frame proceeds from Zeus' ineffable and secret seeds. Mother of Eubouleos, sonorous, divine, and many-formed, the parent of the vine. Associate of the Horai (Seasons), essence bright, all-ruling virgin, bearing heavenly light. With fruits abounding, of a bounteous mind, horned, and alone desired by those of mortal kind. O vernal queen, whom grassy plains delight, sweet to the smell, and pleasing to the sight : whose holy form in budding fruits we view, earth's vigorous offspring of a various hue : espoused in autumn, life and death alone to wretched mortals from thy power is known : for thine the task , according to thy will, life to produce, and all that lives to kill. Hear, blessed Goddess, send a rich increase of various fruits from earth, with lovely peace : send health with gentle hand, and crown my life with blest abundance, free from noisy strife; last in extreme old age the prey of death, dismiss me willing to the realms beneath, to thy fair palace and the blissful plains where happy spirits dwell, and Plouton reigns."

Homeric hymns from theoi / Images from pinterest.

Requested by : n/a

Feel free to request boards or ask about our practice!

[seeyouonabluemoon]

I'm having Thoughts about Jon and Daisy and it's not gonna fit in my fic, so here.

He bears the scar he got from her and the internal scar he got FOR her. She has his blood on her hands, but also the dirt he saved her from. She will never repay the debt she owes him, and he will never forgive what she has done. She loves him and he loves her, but he will not trust her and her trust is all she can give him.

They are so similar and so different. She saves herself in the way that matters, and then she falls, and hurts him one last time. His final act is to mirror hers, and give in to the blood to protect someone he loves. He did not say her name when he listed those whom he loved who fell, but she never asked forgiveness either, because they both knew it would be unfair.

She was his watchdog, and he was her guardian. They shared nothing and they shared everything. When she comforted him after nightmares, did she know she featured in them? When he haunted her dreams, did he know he was her lifeline?

He became a monster. She always was.

I'm not crying, you're crying. :'D

[chainmail-butch]

My two goals in this life are to see the death of the American Empire and to be smothered by a pile of sadistic femmes (who are giggling. That's very important.)

With your help, we can make these dreams come true

[junewild]

Yesterday somebody went through and left a comment on every single chapter of my WIP fanfic series. And they apologized for not being great with words! Most of the comments were pretty short—just a quick thought or a kudo about something they liked, or sometimes even something they preferred the canon version of but appreciated a new perspective on! And some of them were longer, with a question or comparison or theory.

And let me tell you—waking up to that was one of the nicest things that has ever happened to me as a fic writer. If you're ever reading through something, and you like it, please, please spend thirty seconds telling the author so before you click "next chapter." You have no idea how much joy you're bringing.

[coffeegnomee]

FUCK not mapicc saying yesterday that it would've been a good idea for him to rebuild Zam's tree while he was gone training, "that would've been really nice of me... um too bad I'm an asshole huh"

and then Zam wistfully looking at the burnt tree today trying really hard not to lament that nobody [loved] him enough to rebuild it for him while he was gone.

[epistolaire-livre]

Devotions (2017), 'Wild Geese' (1986) Mary Oliver, p. 349

[sunlit-arrow]

About Artemis Parthenia

In my short time learning about Lady Artemis, I have encountered a lot of discussion and reiteration regarding Her virginal aspect. Since Her cult revolved significantly around this commitment to chastity, it is a topic that must be addressed by anyone interested in an in-depth worship of Her. Still, I have made my own reflections and would like to share these here.

(Please note that I am in no way an expert—just a single worshiper writing down her personal perspective on a vast topic.)

It is a lot to unpack since it is one of the main things that distinguish Her as a deity, so I'll go through the following points:

Virginity and Maidenhood

Artemis as Protector of Girls and Women

Artemis and Childbirth

Patriarchal Views on Chastity

1. Virginity and Maidenhood

Homer describes Artemis as "one of the three" who cannot be swayed by Aphrodite's power. This is how we learn that Artemis has no romantic or sexual interest. (While I acknowledge that many of Her myths and their possible reinterpretations can be read through a sapphic lens, that is not the focus of this discussion.)

What is particularly interesting about Artemis’s detachment from romantic love is that She not only rejects marriage but also actively chooses not to marry. From an idealistic, romantic, and modern perspective, we might imagine Lady Artemis declaring that love will never keep Her from the wild and that no man will ever take that from Her. However, we still get to read myths that describe the moment in which Her father, King Zeus, grants Her the wish to stay an eternal Maiden.

Virginity, in this context, does not mean actual chastity but rather a rejection of marriage to a man.

In contrast to other married goddesses, one can only imagine how offensive it would have been to lust after a maiden goddess—something reflected in the many myths where Artemis punishes those who violate Her privacy. Thus, "virgin" or "maiden" became a title that imposed limits on how men perceived girls and women.

This leads me to my second point.

2. Artemis Soteira, Hêmerasia, Philomeirax & Paidotrophos.

When we look at other virginal goddesses like Hestia and Athene, we could go through their cults and analyse why their aspects as maidens are relevant to their domains, but what about Artemis?

Lady Artemis is not only, along with Lord Apollon, the protector of Lady Leto (their mother, who was abandoned in Her time of need); She is also the protector of girls—their untamed nature, their growth through puberty, and their well-being once they are married off and considered women.

Artemis, as the protector of girls and women, remains a maiden because She transcends the control that men have over girls. Her independence and fierceness as the Lady of Beasts is a power no man can overcome, and for that reason, She is a threat to those who would seek to violate what She most fiercely protects: the innocence and autonomy of young girls.

Artemis must be depicted as a maiden not because She must be pure and chaste but because She is an adult, powerful goddess who represents the right of little girls to choose their own futures.

Taking my own perspective, I can imagine Lady Artemis choosing not to marry because of Her love for the freedom found in the wild. As if She wants to share the gift of choice with all, She calls women to Her sanctuaries, offering them a refuge from forced marriages.

"Come with me and be free."

3. Artemis Orsilokhia

So, how can a virgin goddess also be the protector of mothers?

Just imagine being married to a man your father chose for you, being forced into sexual intercourse because it is your duty to bear an heir, and suddenly, you have this little baby—yours to carry, yours to nurture, yours to bring into a world that has wronged you.

Artemis understands the love of a mother, whether it comes from choice or coercion. She knows this because Her own mother suffered while bringing the godly twins into the world. One could say that She held Leto’s hand as Apollon was born.

Here is where I could go on and on into an in-depth analysis of the myth of Kallisto—since, in my opinion, Lady Artemis would never kill a pregnant woman out of rage—but I will save that for another post.

All I want to say, since this post is already long, is that if we examine how earlier civilizations viewed sex, we see that it was often directly tied to procreation. Sex frequently meant childbirth. In this sense, one could argue that Artemis is also a goddess of sex—not as an act of pleasure but as a force of nature. She is a protector against rape and sexual violence, a judge of those who mistreat their partners in intimacy, and a caretaker of those who bear the fruits of fertility.

Once again, Lady Artemis is not against sex or pregnancy. She is a goddess of freedom, and because of that, She is a goddess of choice—of the ability to decide whether to be a mother, a wife, or neither.

4. Chastity Culture and Artemis’s Priestesses

What I dislike most about the modern interpretation of Artemis as a virgin goddess is how it has been used as an excuse to police the sexual behavior of women.

Yes, Artemis’s priestesses were once required to be virgins. Yes, a vow of chastity was demanded. But based on everything I have discussed so far, doesn’t it make more sense for Her priestesses to be free with their bodies as they choose? Why do I still see people asking Artemis’s priestesses if they have taken a vow of chastity? Why does it matter?

Let me put it this way: as the Lady of the Wild and the Mistress of Beasts, how can we even begin to imagine the untamed forces of life without sex?

This may be a controversial opinion, and I don’t expect everyone to agree with me, but continuing to demand chastity vows from women as a condition to validate their devotion to a goddess who protects girls and women is an insult to much of what She stands for.

Do not let chastity culture corrupt Her worship. Teach children how to say "no." Teach them to recognize manipulation, grooming, and abuse. Teach teenagers how to have safe sex, how to ask for and give consent. Teach people to respect their bodies and that "No" is a complete sentence. Discuss sexual violence in relationships, peer pressure, and healthy understandings of sex and love.

Worship Lady Artemis by giving people all the tools they need to choose for themselves. And if their choice is to have sex, let it be in the healthiest way possible.

[levelofyoureye]

hey guys! just a silly thought—what if we stopped publicly bookmarking WIPs on ao3 and then tagging them as “read when finished”? is it not enough to just bookmark the fic and say nothing? or add it to a WIP collection? i’m very aware that people don’t like to read WIPs but genuinely. what is the point of doing that. what is the point of letting authors know that you’re only going to read their work once it’s finished? like now i just feel like shit lol

[shisasan]

June 11, 1914 [From Lou Andreas-Salomé to Rainer Maria Rilke] Rilke and Andreas-Salomé: a love story in letters (1897-1926)

[raileurta]

Dark Soulmates au idea

Sometimes very rarely a person will have a soul disfigurement. In a regular pair of soulmates the "soul" is split evenly between them. Sometimes someone will get more "soul" than the other but it rarely affects them. In extremely rare cases though a person could have 90%+ of their pair's "soul." This leads to the recipient being more apathetic, violent, and having an obsession with their soulmate.

[the-astral-archives]

Ἡλιος - Helios

" And now, O Muse Calliope, daughter of Zeus, begin to sing of glowing Helios whom mild-eyed Euryphaessa, the far- shining one, bare to the Son of Earth and starry Heaven. For Hyperion wedded glorious Euryphaessa, his own sister, who bare him lovely children, rosy-armed Eos and rich-tressed Selene and tireless Helios who is like the deathless gods. As he rides in his chariot, he shines upon men and deathless gods, and piercingly he gazes with his eyes from his golden helmet. Bright rays beam dazzlingly from him, and his bright locks streaming form the temples of his head gracefully enclose his far-seen face: a rich, fine-spun garment glows upon his body and flutters in the wind: and stallions carry him. Then, when he has stayed his golden-yoked chariot and horses, he rests there upon the highest point of heaven, until he marvellously drives them down again through heaven to Ocean. Hail to you, lord! Freely bestow on me substance that cheers the heart. And now that I have begun with you, I will celebrate the race of mortal men half-divine whose deeds the Muses have showed to mankind."

Homeric hymns from theoi / Images from pinterest.

[marstyler42]

What if the organizing of the cases in the O.I.A.R being different from how they were organized in TMA with the original 14 entities is causing a remanifestation where the separations between the new entities are completely different. What if by organizing the cases and they are single-handedly driving this universes interpretations of the fears. They aren't categorizing existing things, they are creating the boundaries.

[oacest]

"The tour was fraught with tension, mainly between myself and Oasis’s ignorant, loud-mouthed, and obnoxious lead singer, Liam Gallagher. This clown had accidentally stumbled into the high life, courtesy of his talented older brother, Noel Gallagher. The limelight of popularity Liam basked in had evidently uncaged a monster, one without teeth or claws, but a small, irritating monster nonetheless. Success looked to have unleashed his inherent narcissism, his look-at-me-ism, his transparent deep-rooted insecurity. I couldn’t believe someone hadn’t beaten, knifed, or shot him to death by now, such was the reckless, witless, and despotic nature of his insufferable facade. Where I was from, a person wouldn’t last a week behaving as he did. I had never encountered anyone with a larger head or tinier balls. Liam Gallagher was an obvious poser, a would-be playground bully. Like all bullies, he was also a total pussy. Always with the big @#$%& mouth as long as he was safely wrapped in the wet-nurse security blanket of the company of the two tall, rotund dudes paid to protect him, and, I assumed, suffer his endless stream of bullshit. This arrogant, spoiled, wounded baby Gallagher was so full of himself that I could not put anything past him. He was so rude to Neil (Young) I wanted to punch him out. It was one thing to be a prick to me, but how dare that son of a bitch be rude to Neil? This made my hatred grow to epic proportions and gave me all the more reason and resolve to kick Liam’s @#$%& ass."

-Mark Lanegran in his memoir, Sing Backwards and Weep

[captainjonnitkessler]

I reblogged that post about not mocking people for having fun sorting themselves into fandom identities and not an hour later my fancy signed Words of Radiance books arrived along with a nifty set of Truthwatcher merch. The universe rewards me for my kindness