#because she was a Christian therapist

[theredhoodedcryptid]

Flash back to that time I was talking with my therapist and she made the mistake of asking about my Batman hyper fixation. So I told her about fav, Jason, who was the second Robin. And she…she told me she didn’t even know there was a Robin….

So obviously I took this as in invite to info dump the last 20 mins of our session, making a very brief intro to the batkids. (Because we don’t got the time to unpack all of that)

She learned to never ask that again.

(JK, she did. She was good and let me info dump about nerdy stuff)

[jacqcrisis]

(Tw child abuse)

Mom called me to tell me about her 'very trying day' where she and my stepsister had a spat because my stepsister heard in real time how mom treats her adoptive son when he acts out and so stepsister tried to leave upset. Apparently, my mom tried to stop her to justify her actions by painting her and my step-dad as the victims of their meth affected, eight year old adoptive son while trying to justify why they need to scream at and spank him all the goddamn time. My stepsister told her that mom and step-dad aren't allowed to watch her baby anymore and left.

Everything my mom says needs to be taken with a grain of salt because she will embellish and twist the truth to make herself look better, so I'm just uh-huhing and 'that's understandable', wondering at several points if I should just hang up because I don't want to hear about this and I never do. At the end, my mom must've had a moment of clarity and asked me 'do you not like hearing about this?' To which I answered point blank no, I don't. I don't like hearing about children getting spanked (beat) and I don't like hearing about how she handles her issues with this kid. She told me she needed to let me go as she started crying. I said okay, bye.

Fuck off. I don't care your fee fees got hurt because you realized people judge you for how you treat this kid you a) shouldn't have adopted and b) treat terribly behind closed doors. Stop making allusions to suicide over how hard this all is and actually work on yourself.

[airanke]

Every day I sit here or lie in bed thinking about how much purity culture destroyed me.

[miss--river]

.

[turntechpotthead]

somehow finding out all the anti trans propaganda that my bio mom has been consuming in our 3 years with no contact is worse than if i found out she was dead

[neverendingford]

.

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

See I really went into therapy this week like “maybe I should talk to her about stopping and trading it in for horse riding weekly because the riding is honestly more therapeutic at this point” and then she had to be super helpful as she always is and help calm my anxieties and like ma’am why do you have to be good at your job?

[dduane]

Ah no. :/

(And per this article: "In the 1980s, she stood up for gay men at the height of the Aids epidemic and spoke out loudly for the LGBT+ community. She said she defended people deemed by some far-right Christians to be “subhuman” because of her own past.")

[tiramisuwithmascarpone]

Hello! I'm a 15-year-old devotee of both Lord Hermes and Lady Aphrodite who is raised in an extremely Orthodox Christian household, and I would like to share my story with you ⋆˚ʚɞ

Hi! for safety reasons I will not use the name I usually use online for this account, but you can call me Jellyfish. I live in Eastern Europe, more exactly Romania, a country whose population is 98% devoted to Christianity at the time of speaking. My mother is a perfect example. She wholeheartedly believes in God, I grew up with pictures of him and the Holy Mary all over the walls, which I wouldn't escape even at my grandparent's houses. My house always smelled of myrrh, I would carry a picture of God everywhere I went, I would pray to him before bed, go to church on every holiday, but I never felt fulfilled or connected to him in any way. I didn't truly know what I believed in. My mother was telling me all about how should I praise God, but I don't think I ever did it because I wanted to or felt connected to what she was telling me or felt like it was the life I wanted to live. When she would fight with my father, even now, she would threaten that she would run away to a monastery and become a nun. She thinks you cannot change your religion and you can not be Christian if you were born with Christian parents and raised in that environment. I did not have faith in God because I wanted to and felt connected to his message and wanted to worship his divine being, I did it because my mother felt that way. And that destroyed me.

As I grew older, I started believing less and less in God. I was struggling with going through teenagehood, fighting my own inner battles, and dealing with friendship that slowly felt like they were taking away my lifespan, and it wasn't just that I didn't have faith in a divine being (which is completely alright. Please do not believe this monologue is Anti-Christian, I believe everyone is allowed to believe and worship the one who they feel most connected and inclined towards.) I didn't have faith in anything anymore. When my brother reached 15, he hated my parents for their beliefs. I will not get much I detail since his story is not mine to tell, but he had battled with alcohol and substance abuse. And I was his only shoulder for him and my parents to lean and cry on. My mother told me to pray for our family, she would pray to god every day, light up myrrh, take me to churches, and I would feel miserable. I felt like an imposter in that church. I truly wanted to have faith in a god, anyone, but I felt like my only choice was God since that's what my mother taught me. Both my parents trust God so I cannot be different, can I?

How foolish I was. I can only look back to my past self and wish to embrace and hold her till she cries all her sorrow out. She was so confused.

Back in 2022, I had first heard of Aphrodite. My brother was sent to a mental hospital for his substance abuse when they caught him on the verge of overdosing. I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder after a suicide attempt, autism and ADHD, but my father (who already couldn't accept the fact that my brother has ADHD) fought with them saying they ,,don't know me well enough" and,,there's nothing wrong with me". And he's right, there's nothing wrong with me. Not even If I am neurodivergent. I was at my lowest, I felt disgusting, I fought with my parents and was their therapist every single day, I stopped going to school, I was a mess. But, I was heavily active on social media because I had tons of online friends. While scrolling on tiktok, I found a video of an Aphrodite devotee. My interest was piqued. I heard about Greek Mythology before but never actually researched it. I liked the video and commented, talking about how gorgeous their faith sounds, and that's when it all started. I started getting more info about Aphrodite, the swans swum by me every time I would go to the lake with my family so we could ,,get some fresh air". I started getting lots of pins on Pinterest with her. I always had a desire for water and the beach was my safe place, where I felt fulfilled and free from all I'm feeling. I had a Dove make itself a nest on a tree next to the window of my classroom which I would always sit by while having lunch (on the rare occasions I would drop by to school). I started researching more about Lady Aphrodite, loving her story, beliefs, ways of worshipping, how it felt like silence was washing over me when I would make a non-physical offering to her. Her tales. The way it felt like she was always there to give me a warm hug and squeeze me while I was crying. I also felt a boost in my confidence! I started loving my features, taking care of myself again, etc. It wasn't always just sun and rainbows, I would still have breakdowns and wish it would all just end and all that, but it was more bearable with her. She made my life more bearable. I love, worship, and adore Lady Aphrodite for that. I worshipped her till this year when I officially felt strong enough to devote myself to her.

This year, actually, I started noticing my strong connection to Hermes. I was always attracted to the kind-hearted, mischievous, kind-hearted, highly intelligent and funny thieves. I always idolized them and wished to be like them. That's how I feel about Lord Hermes. I feel like he was reaching out to me all my life. Everything he is associated with I had an inexplicable obsession with for pretty much all my life. Turtles, golden or silver, travel, learning new languages, astronomy, astrology, everything you could think of. I have been devoted to him since last month, that's when I officially started labeling myself as a Hellenic Pagan, but I am still a beginner, and I need to hide all of this from my mother since I am afraid of what she would do if she were to find out I have another belief since she reacted super badly back when I was an atheist :( I set up the first altar for Lady Aphrodite, and the second one for Lord Hermes. I always had been an artistic soul and loved making my room all pretty randomly so I told my mother this is one of those cases and she believed it. She does not know english and is not at all cultured about any beliefs besides Christians, Muslims, and Jews. They are both hidden in my closet. I feel very bad for not being able to make them a bigger and more obvious altar, I hope I'll have that chance when I move out from my parent's house..

I wanted to ask if Lord Hermes would be mad if my mom kept setting random things on his altar? she even put a picture of the Holy Mary. I moved it to the other side of the closet and made a DIY necklace for him out of orange garnet or beads to apologize to him, and he didn't seem mad, but I'm not sure...I sketched drawings of both of them and rested them on their altars. Everything you see are either offerings I heard they may like or things that reminded me of them! the little notebook on Hermes's altar is specifically made for learning new languages and thought he would enjoy it. Do you guys think any of my offerings are disrespectful? or should be removed? I'm open to any advice! Thank you for listening to my story <3

[towards-toramunda]

Ashton Greymoore is from Crown Heights and works in a neighborhood deli and he makes the best chopped cheese New York City has ever seen and gets paid $18 an hour so you better fucking tip

Orym is from a small town in northern Vermont that voted 97% Bernie Sanders and he is rarely seen without the green thick flannel that he got from his stepdad before he passed. He helps run a martial training summer camp, but works at a grocery store most of the time.

Laudna is big in the Portland goth scene because she works at a taxidermy shop where people bring her their beloved dearly departed pets and she brings them back to life as statues.

Imogen lives in Tennessee and works at a horse ranch that rents out for kids birthday parties. She has a therapist that she goes to twice a week and she takes at least five different medications for her mental health.

Chetney is from northern Wisconsin where he lives in a cabin by himself and crafts the most gorgeous wooden furniture and statues. He thinks its funny when people complain about deep snow during the winter. He goes ice fishing and wears T-shirts with wolves howling at the moon.

FCG is from Huntsville Alabama where they used to work at the Space and Rocket center, but he recently discovered Christ and he’s really into it. They’ve never touched a bible but really likes the concept of being Christian so he figures its good.

Fearne was born and raised in Los Angeles to a wealthy and famous celebrity couple who left her with their housekeeper most of the time. She likes to garden and has a weird fascination with fire. She’s a nepo baby so shes never worked a day in her life and doesn’t know what “clopening” means.

[syd-djarin]

Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)

chapter two: sex and candy

*18+ minors DNI*

tags: mentions of anxiety, religious shame/guilt, reader being insecure, mentions of (negative) past sexual experiences and partners, brief mention of alcohol consumption, v fingering, oral (f receiving) joel is a cunnilinguist, 2000’s nostalgia, mentions of the patriarchy (booooo)  squirting (sue me),  Joel-Land™️™️™️

reader has hair that she fidgets with, "grows warm" /"cheeks burning" but not necessarily blushing, with embarrassment - minor edits to make this more inclusive for my readers <3

word count: ~4.5k

Author/s notes: Sorry it took longer to get ch. 2 out than I anticipated. I've had a lot going on in my personal life (I got a new job!) But I promise it won't be as long for ch. 3 hehe. this is a lengthy chapter, hope y'all enjoy!!

had to name reader's bestie after my dear friend @katiexpunk <3 thanks for always letting me run ideas by you and being a peach in general.

and thank you to @softiedingo for being a beta reader as well <333

It has been two weeks since you introduced yourself to Joel and Sarah. You hate to admit it, but you haven’t been able to stop thinking about Joel. Your mind will stay preoccupied temporarily, then they circle back to him. 

Throwing clothes in the washer? Joel. 

Boiling water for pasta? Joel. 

Doing the dishes? Joel. 

In the shower? Yep, definitely Joel. 

And this morning is no different. 

You’re staring at yourself in your bathroom mirror, brushing your teeth, mind deep into Joel-Land, then your thoughts take a sharp turn - for the worst. You’re thinking about all of your past sexual encounters. 

How unsatisfying and selfish your past partners were. You hadn’t been romantically involved with any of your past partners, all of them casual-no-strings-attached type of arrangements. 

Even if the sex was casual, did that mean the pleasure had to be one-sided? Of course not. 

However, after each encounter you found yourself feeling disappointed, and truthfully, it made you feel…..icky. Was it religious shame? Even though you don’t participate or believe in any religion anymore, your formative years were spent in a conservative, Christian church; where sex is bad, and sin is bad. And you don’t want to be bad, because you will go to hell. You don’t even believe in hell, yet, there is a small voice in your head that still worries about eternal damnation. Jeez, I should really see a therapist about that.  

 Perhaps it’s the misogyny and sexism, rampant and hard-wired into society and into mind’s since the beginning of time. 

Your internal theological and philosophical debate gives you a throbbing headache. 

+++

It’s Friday. Halloween falls on a Tuesday this year, so most Halloween celebrations would occur this weekend. 

If you were still in college, you’d most likely attend a costume party at a frat party and drink until the sun came up. These days, you don’t recover from hangovers as easily and find the anxiety spiral that follows a night of drinking to be too debilitating so you’re planning on keeping it chill this year. 

You’re pouring out a bag of candy into a bowl, so candy is easily accessible for your sweet tooth cravings when you hear a strong, loud cluster of knocks at your front door. 

Knock. Knock. Knock-knock. 

Shaking off your initial startling from the sudden knocks, you open your front door to find Joel. He’s leaning his shoulder on the doorframe, one half of his body bears all his weight. He swiftly straightens upright again when you greet him. He looks even more handsome from the last time you saw him. He’s wearing dark wash jeans that accentuate his body in the most delectable way and a black t-shirt with a faded MILLER CONSTRUCTION graphic that is just barely legible. 

You have the urge to steal the well-worn shirt so you can sleep in it, relish his scent, and let it become a metaphorical embrace of Joel. 

Fuck, I really am down bad, you internally scold yourself to come back to the present moment. 

“Joel! Ho-how are you?” you manage to creak out through nerves and surprise. 

His beautiful, dark brown eyes are staring right into yours. His eyes could compel you to do anything. 

“I’m doin’ alright, you?” The word ‘alright’ is drawn out making it sound like “awllll-right”

“Can’t complain. Y’all settling in okay?” tilting your head unconsciously, as if to convey genuinity.  

“Oh yeah, ‘s a nice neighborhood. Sarah seems to be enjoyin’ her new school, I was a lil worried she’d have a hard time but she’s a smart kid and gets along with pretty much everyone. Awful silly of me to worry in the first place…” he’s rambling, hands moving at the same pace as his speech. 

You find his rambling to be cute, it’s a bit of a juxtaposition from his strong, demanding presence. 

Joel realizes he’s nervous after he concludes his tangent. When’s the last time he felt nervous around women? Especially a sweet, non-threatening woman like you? 

“Anywho, I came over to uh- ask you somethin’... Sarah liked your cookies so much she wants to learn how to make them herself and was wondering if you’d teach her?”

“I’d love to!” You shoot him a flattered smile,  learning that Sarah wanted you to teach her to bake makes your heart sing.

Joel is amazed at you. You agreed to teach a twelve year old, one who you hardly know, to bake. He shouldn’t be surprised given your sweet demeanor and generous heart, but he’s in awe of you. 

“You sure? I mean, you obviously don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“Joel, I’d be honored to. Send her over in an hour,” you cut him off, hoping to convey your delight in teaching someone else to bake, the same way your grandma did for you. 

Joel can’t stop the shit-eating grin that appears on his face. 

“Sounds good. I’ll send her your way, sweetheart,” he lingers just for a moment to watch your reaction to the nickname, the one he’s used twice. 

You desperately try to keep your composure cool and collected, but you’ve never had a good poker face. You wear your emotions like an accessory. And right now, you are flustered. You divert your attention to the ground as if looking into his eyes would expose your every thought. 

“O-okay!” You can barely stammer out a response before he is pivoting off your porch, back to his own house. 

You can’t see it with his back turned to you, but Joel is smirking to himself and feeling amused at his effect on you. 

+++

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

“Yes, dad. I don’t need a chaperone to bake cookies. I’m a big girl now, remember?”

Yes, he is acutely aware that she is a big girl now. Well, not really, to him she will always be his baby girl, but that doesn’t stop her from growing up. Too fast for his liking. The idea of her becoming a teenager almost gives him a coronary. It won’t be long before she’s driving, then graduating, and college. What if she wants to attend a school in another state? Across the country? 

He feels queasy at that thought, afraid that she will grow out of thinking her dad is the coolest, afraid that she doesn’t want to spend time with her old man anymore. 

He wills himself to think about something else. Anything else. Inevitably his thoughts wander to you. 

Joel hates to admit it, but he was hoping to join Sarah for the baking lesson. He wants an excuse to be in your radiant, sweet, beautiful presence again. 

While you can’t stop thinking about him, he can’t stop thinking about you. 

Driving home from work? You. 

Making dinner? You. 

Making his morning coffee? You. 

Laying in bed? Oh, yeah. Definitely you. 

Exactly one hour passes when Sarah arrives at your house. You’ve already set up in your kitchen in preparation; already pre-measured the ingredients, setting out all the necessary baking equipment and you even found a spare apron for Sarah to wear. Ya know, to give her the full experience. 

“Oooh, this apron makes me feel like a professional!” Sarah exclaims after tying the strings on her designated apron. 

“Well, after this, you will be.”

You can’t remember the last time you felt this much joy. Sharing a passion of yours with someone who is eager to learn from you delights your heart and soul in a way you didn’t know you needed until now. 

“So first, we’ll need to combine the butter and sugar,” Sarah dumps the butter and sugar into the mixing bowl. “Great, now we want to beat the mixture until it looks fluffy.” 

She is completely engrossed in watching for the desired texture, furrowing her brows together in a way that mimics Joel. You find it adorable. 

“Excellent, now we are going to add in the eggs and vanilla extract.” 

She follows your instructions to a T, meticulous and concentrated as if she were mixing hazardous chemicals in a lab. 

“You’re doing great.  Now let’s add our dry ingredients, half of it at a time.” 

Her eyes light up when it’s time to fold in the chocolate chips. You both agree it’s the best part, both of you indulging in a few before adding them to the dough. 

You assist Sarah in rolling the dough into little balls and placing them onto the baking sheet. 

While waiting for the cookies to bake, you learn more about Sarah and Joel. She tells you about their old house, the camping trip they went on this past summer, the catchy pop songs on the radio that Joel will pretend to hate but she catches him humming the tune later, how Joel makes a big breakfast for the two of them every Sunday, a ritual they started when Sarah started school - he makes pancakes just for her. 

Getting a snapshot of Joel and Sarah’s lives and their dynamic makes your mega crush on Joel that much bigger. From what Sarah has shared with you, he seems like a caring, protective yet fun dad. You’re aching to learn everything about him. 

“Do you have any plans for Halloween?” Sarah asks as you’re pulling the baking sheet out of the oven. 

“Oh um, I usually just hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. Nothing super exciting. What about you?”

“We always order pizza and watch a scary movie - nothing super scary though. We dress up too. Well, I dress up but dad thinks he is too cool to do that so he wears the same boring mask every year,” she has a mischievous grin on her face, concocting a plan when she asks, “do you want to come over and join us?” 

On one hand you’d love nothing more than to spend more time with your new friend and Joel, but on the other hand the thought of being in the same room as Joel, in his house, makes you both anxious and aroused. Dizzy, nervous, and horny makes for an unpleasant combination. 

Gaining a sliver of bravery, you swallow your apprehension and say yes. 

“Sure, yeah, what time should I come over?”

“6:30. And you better wear a costume!”

+++

You’ve spent the past hour trying to put a costume together. Not making any progress, you decide to seek external advice - your best friend Katie. 

You both met as freshman and have been close friends ever since, even rooming together in your first off-campus apartment. She moved to the West Coast shortly after graduation, though you still keep in touch via email and phone. You give her the scoop on Joel - him moving into the neighborhood, your gigantic crush on him, how you baked cookies with Sarah yesterday. She’s impatiently waiting for you to bone your hot neighbor. Girl, I’m waiting too. 

“Do you still have that bunny costume you wore junior year?”

You rummage through your tote of seasonal clothing in search of said costume. Pulling it out, you now realize just how skimpy the costume really is. Bunny ears and a tail paired with a skin tight black bodysuit leaves virtually nothing to the imagination and definitely too much skin for this occasion. 

“Dude, I can’t wear this! His daughter will be there! I can’t believe I wore this out in public. This is X-Rated,” you’re growing agitated in having no success in your costume, to the point that you are tempted to tell Sarah you came down with something so you don’t have to go. 

“Okay, okay, the ears and tail are still salvageable. Do you have something besides the bodysuit?”

“Ummm…” you trail off into the phone, frantically searching for something to replace the risque bodysuit. You find a plain white baby tee amongst the sea of clothing, deciding you can pair it with your favorite jeans, the ones that accentuate your body in all the right places. 

“This could work..” muttering to yourself when a devious thought pops into your head. White shirt, no bra. 

“Found it! Gotta go, loveyoubye!” You hang up the call before Katie has a chance to respond, tossing your pink Razr on your bed. Your body hums in anticipation and jitters, feeling emboldened by your no bra plot. 

After throwing on your outfit, you style your hair differently than you normally do. You add several coats of mascara to your lashes, sweep on some blush that complements your skin and add a sparkly lip gloss to your lips, making them appear extra plump and juicy. 

You grab a bag of Halloween candy and you practically skip across the street. Reaching the front door of your new bestie and her gorgeous dad, your confidence is replaced with a furious ball of anxiety. Your heart is palpitating and you feel your stomach churn. 

 Would Joel think you looked stupid? Or worse, childish? Fuck, you should’ve stayed home. 

Joel opening the door snaps you out of your thought spiral but only briefly, because he’s staring at you like you’ve started growing extra limbs. He looks both puzzled and pissed? 

“What uh-what’re you doing here?” 

His voice has a sharpness you haven’t heard before and it stings. 

You have a moment of realization. 

Sarah didn’t run the invitation by her dad.

 You deduct that he isn’t a fan of surprises. 

Before you can formulate a response, Sarah saves you from having to do so. 

“You dressed up! I’m glad you came,” she squeals while wrapping her arms around your middle in an embrace. 

She looks up at Joel from where she’s latched onto you and gives her confused dad an explanation. 

“Dad, it’s okay, I invited her.” 

That seems to alleviate his confusion. You, on the other hand, not so much. You’re internally screaming at yourself. It’s obvious to you that Joel wasn’t expecting you, and in conclusion, doesn’t want you here. 

“I didn’t mean to impose, I—I’m sorry, I’ll uh— just go back home,” fighting back tears of embarrassment, looking everywhere except at Joel.  You think now is a superb time to move across the country, change your name, dye your hair, somewhere far away from this humiliation. 

Joel senses you’re feeling rejected in some way.

“No, no, come on in. Jus’ wasn’t expectin’ you s’all,” he gives you his most reassuring smile. 

You swallow the lump of emotions in your throat. 

He didn’t expect you to come over, nor did he expect you’d show up as his personal version of a Playboy bunny.  He almost busted in his jeans when he could see your nipples through your very thin white t-shirt. He thinks you’re trying to kill him. 

+++

You’re starting to relax once you three settle on the couch, Sarah nestling between you and Joel, Alien on the TV. Turns out, you and Joel share a love for the film. You may or may not have gotten into a heated (playful) debate about the other films in the franchise.

Joel gets an influx of trick-or-treaters, more than you usually get, residents of the neighborhood taking advantage of this opportunity to be nosy. Again. 

In between costume clad visitors, you sneak glances at Joel, who looks absolutely scrumptious tonight. His hair had been damp and combed back when you arrived, his curls now almost dry and in all their glory. He’s wearing an obviously well-loved, faded Pearl Jam concert tee that clings to his arms and grey sweatpants that sit dangerously low on his hips. You wonder if all his shirts fit like that. When he stands, you can see the outline of his dick through his sweatpants.  You have to manually restrain yourself from pouncing on him. You’re soaking through your panties and you’re a little worried that if you stand, the seat beneath you will be soaked too. 

The scent of his body wash invades your nostrils, a heavenly mix of sandalwood and cinnamon. You’re imagining yourself running your hands through his hair and burying your nose into his neck, alternating between kissing and sucking on the skin there. You want to taste every inch of his skin, taking your time to savor him. 

Joel’s stealing glances at you, too. He’s never seen someone look so sweet and seductive, divine even. You smell warm and sweet, amber and vanilla. Not the artificial, manufactured type vanilla scent, it’s like vanilla straight from the bean. When you readjust your position on the couch to get more comfortable, your tits lightly bounce, unrestrained by a bra. He has to stifle a groan, disguising it as a cough. He wonders how much they’d bounce if you were riding his cock. Your lips are absolutely sinful. Pouty and plump, juicy from the lip gloss. The bunny ears are the nail in his coffin. He’s picturing you bent over on his couch, still wearing the bunny ears as he devours your pussy from behind. 

Only a quarter of the way through the movie, a few of Sarah’s friends from her old school pop in to invite her over for an impromptu sleepover to which Joel agrees to, since they no longer go to school together. 

Which means you and Joel are left alone. Together. Your body is aching to close space between you and the man you’re enamored with. You don’t know that Joel is itching to do the same. 

“Sarah couldn’t stop talkin’ bout yesterday. She loved hangin’ out with ya, thanks again for doin’ that.”

“She’s welcome to come over anytime. She’s a sweet kid,” you’re beaming at the fact she enjoyed baking with you. Joel notices the way your eyes gleam, overflowing with delight.

You finally have the courage to meet his eyes. The way his eyes are raking over your entire body makes your clit throb in anticipation. Your heartbeat is erratic, thumping loudly in your ears. 

The energy in the room is magnetic, pulling you and Joel closer together. 

“You can uh-scoot closer t’me if ya want,” he gruffs out, beckoning you to scoot closer to him. Joel wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you make him feel like a flustered teenage boy about to kiss a girl for the first time. 

You scoot closer to Joel, hoping he doesn’t notice your body trembling from nerves. 

With your body flush next to his, he stretches one of his toned arms behind your head, resting it on the back of the couch. You can feel the warmth radiating from his body and it sends a shiver down your spine, straight to your aching core. 

The tension in the air is palpable, both of your bodies buzzing in arousal. You’re both pretending to watch the movie in front of you, but your minds are elsewhere. He gently removes his arm from the couch and rests it across your shoulders. It’s a seemingly innocuous gesture, but its impact makes you clench around nothing, more arousal dripping into your panties. 

He leans his head down close to yours, his mouth behind your ear.

“No bra? You’re a naughty lil bunny aren’t ya?” His hot breath tickles your ear, your eyes clamp shut involuntarily and you whimper. A high-pitched, whiny whimper, and Joel’s never heard anything sweeter. 

He places his other large palm on your thigh, gently squeezing it. Your skin prickling in goosebumps and your nipples are hard enough to cut glass. The wetness pooled in your panties is beyond the point of comfort. 

Joel presses a chaste kiss behind your ear, eliciting another whimper from you. He peppers kisses from your neck all the way to your collarbones.

“This okay?” 

“Mhmmm…”  You’re already so keyed up you feel hazy. Your whole body feels hot, lit aflame by Joel’s lips on your skin.  

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he rasps while his hand is caressing your thigh, intentionally not too close to where you want him. Need him. 

“Mhmmm,” you moan, still unable to form words, arousal taking over all of your bodily functions. 

“Need you to use your words, honey.” He squeezes your thigh again.

He pulls his face back from your neck to look you in the eyes, and slows his movements on your thigh so you can tell him to back off or give him the green light to continue. You grab his hand on your thigh and squeeze it, to keep him from removing it. 

“Joel, pleeease. Want it so bad. Need you so fuckin’ bad.” 

You beg in the most sultry voice you can muster, emphasizing every syllable. 

Your lust laden eyes and the way you mewl for him ignites something ravenous, primal, carnal in him. He hasn’t heard you cuss before and it sounds so filthy in your honeyed voice.  His rock hard cock twitches in his pants. 

He presses his plush lips against yours. It’s hesitant at first, but his apprehension dissipates when you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back with fervor. Joel deepens the kiss, one hand gripping your hip, the other hand splayed between your shoulder blades, pressing your body further into his. You tangle one of your hands in his luscious curls. He tastes like sweet peppermint and a hint of black coffee. You feel dizzy, tasting him, finally feeling him. 

He breaks the kiss, guiding you to lie down on your back and props your head up on one of the couch armrests. 

He’s looking down at you and he’s never seen anything more beautiful. You’re always pretty, effortlessly so. But seeing you underneath him, sweet and desperate for him? He’d do anything you ask him to.

“You’re the prettiest lil bunny. So fuckin’ pretty.”

You’re bashful under his gaze and his compliment, cheeks burning. 

Joel notices you trying to shy away and he places a thumb under your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him. 

Now you feel embarrassed for trying to shy away in the first place.

“Sorry I’m—”

“Nothing to ‘pologize for, sweetheart,” he’s caressing your chin with his thumb, alleviating all of the embarrassment from you.

“Wanna taste you. You’ve no idea how bad I’ve wanted to taste you. Needed to know if you were as sweet as your cookies.”

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out, “yes - yes please, taste me, Joel”

He chuckles softly at your enthusiasm and promptly rids you of your jeans, making the leather of the couch feel cool to the back of your thighs. 

Joel lets out a guttural moan when he sees your sky blue satin panties soaked through. He runs a finger over the damp spot, making you quiver. His touch is featherlight and it’s maddening. You’re squirming, hips lifting off the couch, chasing for more. 

He obliges, running a finger over your clit with added pressure. 

“Joel, please��” You’re a whiny mess under him, and he’s just getting started. He’s rubbing gentle circles over your bud, still-panty clad. 

He presses a kiss on your belly, just below your navel. The tenderness makes your body shudder.

He finally removes your panties and you gasp when the cool air hits your throbbing pussy. 

“Pretty girl with a pretty pussy to match.” Joel’s admiring the way your pussy is glistening for him, begging to be touched. 

He runs a finger through your drenched seam, your juices dripping onto his thick digit. He licks his finger, then shoves it into his mouth so he can taste every drop. His eyes clamp shut, groaning at how you taste. You commit the image to memory, not wanting to forget how he looks and sounds when he tastes you for the first time.

“Knew you’d taste sweet. So fuckin’ sweet.” 

Your brain short circuits when you realize that means he’s thought about this before. That he’s imagined how you’d taste. Picturing him fantasizing about you makes you light-headed. 

Joel spreads your legs wider, giving him full access to your pussy. He dives in without warning, licking from entrance up to your clit.

“Fuck, Joel!” You hoarsely shout with one hand gripping the couch cushion and one tugging onto Joel’s messy curls. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your pussy as you grind your hips into his mouth, desperate for release. 

 You see stars while he expertly alternates between flicking his tongue and sucking on your clit. He’s keeping a steady rhythm, on the slower side, taking his time pleasuring you. He’s enjoying this.

Obscene sounds fill the room; Joel devouring your pussy like it’s the Last Supper and your chorus of moans and expletives. 

“Fuck, don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop!”

“Shitshitshit–”

“Joelllll-” 

He picks up the pace, your fingers cramping from their deathgrip on the couch. You feel your peak approaching - sweat beading on your forehead, chest heaving, head thrown back in ecstasy. 

Joel senses your approaching release and pushes one of his thick, dexterous fingers into your weeping hole. 

He reaches for your hand that’s tangled in his hair and intertwines your fingers with his, resting your connected hands on your inner thigh. It’s overwhelming; the intimacy of your interlocked fingers paired with the filthy onslaught of his mouth. 

He speeds up as he adds another finger, hitting the spot that no one except you has reached before. You never knew it could feel this amazing. You thought you were doomed to a life of bad sex. 

Apparently, you just needed Joel to show you differently. And you are so glad he proved you wrong. 

Joel hooks his fingers inside you bringing you closer and closer to that peak you’ve been dying to reach. You’re squeezing his fingers, both the ones inside you and the ones interlaced with yours. 

“Joel I-I’m close,” you manage to choke out, mind foggy from the intense pleasure. 

He sucks on your clit, hard and you’re coming, entering a euphoric plane of existence. You’re floating, body trembling, coming harder than you’ve ever come before. 

Joel slows his fingers and removes his mouth from your pussy, beard glistening with your release, gently bringing you back to reality. He keeps your fingers locked with his, grounding you in the present.

The orgasmic fog clears from your brain, regaining awareness of your surroundings when you feel how drenched your lower half is. Like, really drenched. You lift your head from the armrest and look down and you’re appalled by the scene. 

You fucking squirted. Everywhere. 

On yourself, on the couch, on Joel. His beard is soaked completely, to the point it’s dripping down his chin. He’s just as stunned as you are. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, fuck I-” you’re scrambling to get off the couch and Joel grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks. 

“What’re you sorry for? That was so fuckin’ hot, sweetheart.” 

“I-I didn’t know I could do that…”

“Oh yeah? First time ever squirtin’?

“Yeah, the first time anyone else has made me come… like, ever.” 

His gaze goes dark. 

You get the feeling that he’s just getting started with you. 

And just like your cookies, he’d never have enough. 

THE END

[tunnelsnacks]

Deacon head canons from my old blog be upon ye!

The UP Deathclaws were never real...the L&L gang is though

“He’s sharp as a whip, feisty in the field and extraordinarily cautious with his actions and even more careful with his words”

Deacon’s favorite color is green, hazel green

If he had a character theme it would be Deacon Waltz by Christian Sedelmyer and Jerry Douglas (The name’s just a coincidence)

A very very light sleeper, before Wanderer he would only sleep for around 3 hours peppered throughout the day

It always takes him an hour to fall asleep, even after he & Wanderer start ‘their you sleep and I’ll watch over you’ deal

He’s not religious, but he still prays

Before Wanderer he’d have, what my old therapist calls, micro-bursts of stage three sleep without realizing it (REM sleep) people can do this while looking and cting completely awake, which is why Carrington doesn’t take him serious in meetings... he looked like he’s not paying attention but nada, the man’s brain was just shutting down a little bit

Because of the lack of sleep he got for so long, Deacon disassociates between himself & his body constantly. At times careless with himself...cracking jokes & laughing in dangerous situations... his brain was teetering the line between being asleep and awake so often he couldn’t tell the difference. (sleep deprivation makes you feel unstoppable...cocky even)

Another thing he lost as a result of Wanderer was being able to sleep standing up, because his body doesn’t need to take over for his mind anymore

Smells faintly of cigarette smoke (mainly because of Dez) and basil and something else that can’t really be placed

He fell in love with a school teacher once, she was the one that taught him how to read

Can write/read French but oh god pronounces every letter like how they sound in English... so he sticks to writing messages to himself that most people think are ramblings of a child when/if found

October is his favorite month... June makes him ache

If he’s not at Wanderer’s side or on his own op, he’ll be at the Church... but after Tea Party? He settles on the couch in Wanderer and Shaun’s home until she convinces him to just move in, they’ve slept in the same room for so long at this point but he can’t fathom having a home again. It’s a hard adjustment

If you look of the definition of a ginger you’d find a picture of him at age 14, the freckles keep coming back no matter how many times he gets them removed

You know how you can catch him spying on you in the settlements? Yeah, he wanted you to see him... but not near 111 or a few other places

He’s the person in the Third Rail that points Wanderer to MacCready before they meet, he can’t have her traveling alone like that when she still so green to the world

In codes, D is for Desdemona and d is for Deacon

If not written, agents that are high enough to know their names say Big D and Little D (Dez hates it but he thinks it’s cute, if not clever)

He tenses ever so slightly when he hears the name John/Johnathan

Holds tension in his jaw like no one else, it’s a wonder his teeth haven’t shattered

Hates the taste of coffee but constantly drinks it

Was a hell of a swing dancer in his youth, now he likes slow dancing though that wasn’t discovered until Wanderer showed up

He’s 37 at the youngest and 45 at the oldest

When he left the gang at 19, they shattered every bone in his left hand & wrist, it aches when it rains

Hides his eyes because they were her favorite part of him, the one thing he can’t change ironically, also the sleep thing. He can’t let people know how tired he is all the time

He was born in Rivet City and his mother was a hairdresser, father a drunkard of a city security officer

His ma taught him how to French braid hair

His last name is Deacon. Baby Shaun is the only one who knows that though... Shaun said “Hey Mr. Deacon” & he said “Hey Mr. Hale” (Wanderer’s last name) & Shaun being the clever kiddo he is, cocked his head to the side connecting some dots cause if his first name was Deacon why would he respond with Shaun’s last one?)

Absolutely fascinated with the old world, collects information and fun facts about that time forgotten which Wanderer feeds into

His favorite thing Wanderer tells him about/teaches him is the proper pronunciation of some words and how to spell others

The man has always had a temper, got it from his dad, he works very hard to keep it under control (I can think of a few pieces of dialogue where he’s talking through gritted teeth, anger threatening to boil over)

At first, he was only by Wanderer’s side so nobody could pull her away from the Railroad - he knows what a game changer she is... but they work so well together and she plays along with his tall tales so often that after a while he forgot about the first part

A terrifyingly good shot, better than MacCready and he’s doing it with sunglasses on

He 100% is John D, the terminal entry where Pinky(?) says a runner was the sole survivor and then immediately tried to get people to go back for documents?? A classic Deacon move

Only smokes in HQ (I’ve actually only seen his idle animation of that in the church and at Mercer) unless he’s in a role or somewhere where Wanderer is comfortable... or is extremely stressed out

He hates Hancock, well not hate- but he’s not on the Christmas card list

Deacon knew Shaun was taken 60 years before Wanderer woke up. He knew and he didn’t tell her and it is the secret he hopes she never finds out

Dee’s gotta special soft spot for Tinker Tom, loves him like a crazy brother

His sniper rifle is named Church Bell, lovingly crafted by Tinker

Not sure how he feels about gen 1’s and 2’s, especially after knowing Nicky V but... if he’s gotta do it

Exclusively refers to Nick Valentine as Nicky V

He knows Preston Garvey has a fat ass crush on Wanderer but has neglected to tell her this little fun fact

Tries to shave his head nearly every morning, when he’s with Wanderer he does so when it’s his turn on watch and she’s asleep

The Railroad is his family, they mean so much but of course he’s always kept everyone distant after what happened with Agamemnon

Deacon has been with the railroad between 14 and 20 years

He genuinely doesn’t like Carrington but he’s not going to avoid going to him if he’s hurt of course

His hands are always warm, which is great cause Wand’s are always cold (being frozen for 210 years will do that to a gal)

Do I need to go into the heights thing??? He hates tagging along to set up MILAs but he’ll be damned if he lets his best friend fall off a roof again

He picked the name; Wanderer (don’t get me started on Project Wanderer and Dez’s “it seems fitting” I’ll rant for so long guys)

Doesn’t like sweet foods but fancy lads is a whole other topic

Open spaces stress him out, too much he can’t see

Non-binary but uses he/him pronouns

Doesn’t drink more than a beer or two, but has an unsettling high tolerance

He won’t ever instigate a relationship beyond what he and Wanderer have, as his va Ryan Alosio put it in an interview, his heart’s been absolutely shattered and he can’t stand the thought of being the cause of someone he loves getting hurt because of him again. He loves her but he can’t

Before he got surgery for the first time, he looked like Ryan (the devs actually tweaked his design to resemble him) his original face looks close to what he has now, not that he remembers what that face looked like

[lo-toh-takes]

I know this is most definitely not related to Lily’s Owl House takes. But since many have brought it up, Lily is absolutely trying to push narratives that keep people in abusive situations.

It’s why she claims Hunter is an idiot for not realizing Belos is evil and doesn’t deserve redemption. It’s why Luz having complex feelings is “torture porn” and yet she deserves an unhappy ending.

And most recently with her new godawful video, Lily made the bold claim that Fifty Shades of Grey isn’t harmful- because abusers, misogynists, and creeps aren’t attractive like Christian Grey.

It’s outright disgusting how blatantly she pushes narratives that would actively keep victims away from speaking out, asking for help, or even just feeling emotions. Because Lily clearly doesn’t think victims deserve such things.

It’s also why she always pushes this narrative of killing abusers being the only way to escape. A task that is traumatic and in some cases outright impossible for victims, as it could more likely get them killed.

I just hate her so much that it brings me to actual tears hearing her repeat the same mantra as so many abusers I’ve seen.

Lily’s takes on abuse being terrible doesn’t surprise me in the slightest considering that she is an abuser herself. It’s gross how Lily treats Hunter and Luz’s traumas as if they are something they should get over quickly, rather than permanent scars that don’t easily fade away.

People have commonly told me how Lily’s takes on these two directly reflect how she sees victims of trauma and abuse, how she sees her own victims. And I completely believe it.

Something that became especially disturbing with this in mind is when in the Luz section of her fandom torture video, where, she directly lists an experience she had with a past girlfriend who acted like Luz, constantly shutting herself out and always acting miserable no matter how hard Lily tried to support her…and, Lily broke up with that girlfriend despite the mental turmoil she KNEW she was going through, because she saw her being toxic to not only herself but to Lily.

Given Lily’s own takes on Luz’s trauma and how she sees Luz during her depression arc, you can probably imagine how ABSOLUTELY disgusting of Lily this comes across as, to just abandon someone while they are going through intense emotional turmoil and in need of a support system because supporting them became “too hard” for you. Fuck. Off.

And before anyone tells me “Lily is not responsible for anyone’s happiness” first of all, she was probably the last thing resembling a support system this person had, as a girlfriend she should try to support this person when they are going through some shit, second of all, Lily could have at the very least tried to help this person by suggesting they talk with a professional about their issues like therapist or some shit. But no. She abounded this person because she didn’t want to support them any more.

And she wanted Amity to do the same thing to Luz. Because she sees Luz the same way she saw that past girlfriend. Now first there’s the first question of is this person was even real or not since Lily has made shit up about her real life before, and since this person would have spoken up about their experiences with Lily by now…but I have a theory for why they might have not done that….

….Lily once made a post on her old blog answering an ask about what to do when someone is going to commit suicide, and Lily’s response just boiled down to “just let it happen, you can’t stop it”…..

….you can probably guess what Lily’s past date probably did after Lily’s break up with her by that alone.

EDIT: Ok I think I might have been very disrespectful here for making a theory about the girlfriend committing suicide. I do sincerely apologize for that. I have received an ask that confirmed that the girlfriend is in fact alive. Sonya, I’m sorry for that.

[i-cant-sing]

-Rambling, cuz apparently, I like to yap when it comes to you.-

I think Islam is a wonderful religion.

In the middle of octubre, I took notice of how the people in Gaza dealt with things, even if they were suffering, they still praised Allah.

And I was like, let me try that for a few months, as an agnostic, in a Christian household. I didn't know that there were 5 prayers, but once I found out, I looked up how to do them correctly.

As a person who has always questioned why everything was created and why I felt no connection to other religions.

Even going to church with my mom and doing my confirmation, I didn't have that much of a connection, if any.

Islam it kinda clicked with me.

My mom found out, and she started to tell me that in Islam, women are oppressed and so on. I told her that I was just praying, listening to the Quran, and following the teachings of the prophet (pbuph).

I also told her that her views on other religions were warped by the media, news, and movies that portray them in a bad light.

She took it as a bitter pill, but she still let me try and continue. When I would be praying and she would enter my room to ask me something, she would just say, "Oh, sorry. I'll tell you when you're down."

When I did Ramadan, getting up early to find something to eat , wait till it's time to pray then go back to bed.

Even tho she didn't understand the religion and still had her apprehensions, she would come to my room and ask me if I ate or needed to eat before I had to pray.

When I would listen to the Quran or a dua, it made me have a sense of peace of mind.

Having a hard time, I would yap and yap, knowing that even if I think I am alone, Allah is always listening.

I even asked if I was following the right path, and that very thing had a dream. I was walking in the woods and made to a mosque, grabbed a light color stone and sat at a corner, and prayed.

By the time I was done, the stone was darker, and my mom was at the door saying she come to pick me up.

It was a weird dream, but I took it as a sign to keep going, so I did. I learned some Duas, and I would get excited when I would get it right.

I would learn how to pray with those prayer videos, even now I still can't remember all of it, but I can still say them.

I did Islam for 9 to 10 months, and I learned to be more patient, helpful, and to have a clearer mind.

I even taught my mom how to say As-Salaam-Alaikum and Wa-Alaikum-Salaam. When we would go buy groceries, we could have a Muslim cashier, and she would get so happy when I would greet her.

Now the employees know me for my skateboard, and the Muslim would know me for always greeting them.

If they saw me walking by and I didn't notice them, they would greet me like I was an old friend.

Eve tho I am not in Islam as much I still make Duas once in a while, and talk to Allah when I feel like everything is too much. I try to follow the teachings as well.

My mom, even once in a while, would say, " Allah couldn't like that." Or " Ask Allah to help me."

So, seeing how you incorporate Islam into your time travel ua it makes me a little happy.

I can learn something new and enjoy a good story at the same time. I am back to being agnostic, but Islam holds a place in my heart along with the people I meet when I decide to give the religion a try.

Yeah, yapped a lot in this 🤦🏽‍♀️ but I feel glad I shared my thoughts on your wonderful religion.

This is so cute- i teared up at your dream, too wholesome. And your mom is sweet and supportive, 10/10 mother <33 And i (as do most muslims, im sure) RELATE to talking to Allah like He's our bestie/therapist because it really does feel so therapeutic. Even if Allah already knows whats in your heart, it feels good to talk to Him. Or sometimes, when you're just so heartbroken, so devastated that u cant even bring the words out and you just... cry. Oh- it feels so good to cry out to Allah , the Almighty, the Ar-Rahman, the Ar-Raheem- and you sort of do feel the pain going away after your mini breakdown sesh (actually had a minor one two days ago and after i was done, i was like "welp, that problem isnt that big of a deal. Allah will take care of it for me.") and that is the mindset that keeps me sane these days-

"Allah will take care of everything."

I think its great that you tried out something new, did your own research on it, and like yes- you should definitely explore other religions to find answers to your own questions.

And yes! I do enjoy learning new things through stories too! Thats why i find history so interesting, because im playing a whole ass 10 season show in my head with all the dramatics. It even helped me with biology and medschool too! Like take the hormonal-feedback mechanism. I'd go like- "and then the brain would send signals to release hormones from this organ to tackle with that problem, but once that problem is dealt with- the organ goes- nah bro. that's ENOUGH! STOP! FUCKING STOP!" or "in autoimmune disease, body's own defender cells would suddenly lose their memory and think EVERYONE is their sworn enemy, and *dramatic war music* attack from every direction, not realising they've killed their own, the very people they were born to protect *sad war music* War is ugly-"

i knew some people would not like me incorporating islam into this au, but like- 1. its something different, and i wanted to try it out. 2. i am the only target audience i care about. i write what i want to read. 3. i mean, so far, the eras i've written about has islam as a big component it, so its obv gonna play a big part in it.

i guess, if some people were to keep an open mind while reading, they'd enjoy it. its not like i can force u to convert from what- an au?? i think people who dont want to read this au is either u really hate islam because of false preconcieved notions or you're afraid that maybe you'll actually like islam and u might be interested in it. i dont think anyone could be that weak willed- to be so easily influenced by just mere words?????? because if u are so easily influenced, then i think u need help.

[neverendingford]

.

[thrashkink-coven]

someone asked if I live with my parents, in regards to how I have such a large altar, and how they might feel ab it. I was working on a long post ab it but then it vanished into the stratosphere so idk what that was ab or where it went.

But to answer the question, making an incredibly long story short, I do not live with my parents, I live with my partner and a couple roommates.

Tea time :) ☕️ Hot piping tea time besties!!! 🤩

My mom used to be somewhat accepting of my transition and identity. She helped me in the medical care system and even got me testosterone (although she always seemed a bit iffy). However after she met her current partner that all fell apart. He is extremely, and I mean EXTREMELY Christian and extremely controlling. This man burned my bfs hoodie because it had a sigil on it. He red faced SCREAMED (and I mean SCREAMED) in my face that I was going to hell for being trans, that I was disgusting and that he didn’t want me anywhere near his kids. After which, my ✨mother✨ blamed me for pushing his buttons too much (by being trans) and told me she would no longer support my transition. She told me that she would rather burry me in the ground in the event that I lost my life to suicide than deal with having a trans kid. I will never forget that.

That was during the first lockdown at the height of the pandemic, so I was trapped in that house and it was torture. When I say that man is extremely Christian and conservative, I mean it. He forced me and his kids to watch religious videos every Saturday, which were basically just dudes screaming at you that you’ll go to hell if you sin over stock footage of clouds. He would try to guilt trip me for not wanting to participate. (Not to mention he contributed very heavily to my eating disorder by trying to force us all to be vegan and taking away all of my safe foods, despite cooking steaks for himself every night. If I could use one word to describe that man it would be “Hypocrite”. I was constantly anxious and starving, holy shit I could write an entire book about how terrible living in that house with that man was and how betrayed I felt by my mom for putting me through that)

The last straw for my mom was when I expressed to my gender therapists that I really want and need top surgery. She acted like I was springing it on her out of nowhere despite us having conversations about it since I was 14. She told me that I would not be recovering from that surgery under her roof and that it would upset her partner too much. Soon she started making little comments about how disgusted she was in the changes testosterone was giving me, how my voice was getting deeper and how I was gaining muscle, and I became terrified that she would try to force me to detransition.

For me, the final straw was after me and my mom had an argument about money (she took it from my bank account without asking and got mad when I asked for it back) as punishment she decided that I would start having to pay rent for my room in the house. I told her that I would not be paying to live somewhere where I cannot feel safe being myself or bringing my partner around. She told me to either get over it or pay up.

As soon as I turned 18 I started looking into programs in my school that help young queer people who are facing potential homelessness find housing. My mother never explicitly kicked me out (she’ll still say that to this day) but she made it impossible for me to stay. I do believe that her partner was actively trying to systematically get me and my older brother out of the house so he could further isolate my mom. He was the one that told my mom that I was manipulating her into “letting me be trans” by pretending to be suicidal. Yeah. Seriously. And to be honest, it’s fucked up and sad but I also see my mom as a victim due to some other things I won’t mention here (when I say controlling I mean CONTROLLING) But the abuse she went through does not justify her role as my abuser. As much empathy and understanding I have as to why she acted the way she did, I still don’t accept that behaviour. Constantly hearing about how you’re an abomination and how God will surely destroy you starts to take a toll after a while, especially when you’re not allowed to leave the house.

Through my efforts I landed a job but I still didn’t have enough money for even the smallest bachelor pads.

One night after having an extreme meltdown I just… ran away. I went to my bfs house because I didn’t know where else to go, but I was fully prepared to walk to a homeless shelter. I am so incredibly lucky that he and his mother are amazing and understanding people because they embraced me with open arms. They gave me a place to stay and never pressed me about money. I have never gone back to my mother’s house since. If it wasn’t for them I would not be alive right now. They genuinely saved my life and I am forever grateful to them for that.

After my bf and I finally got our own place after living with his parents for nearly 2 years , my mom decided that time passed is equivalent to an apology, and wanted to rekindle our relationship. However, after she tried to visit my place and was met by my roommates who are also all trans, things didn’t go her way. She kept asking for my dead name and misgendering me. My roommates stood up for me and told her that she should stop misgendering me and have some respect, that they didn’t know anyone by that name, and that it’s not cool for her to still be calling me that.

My mom gave me a very angry phone call, telling me that my friends are disrespectful and that they should know that she’s the only person allowed to disrespect me because she gave birth to me. Unfortunately for her that is not the case.

My response to that was this:

and her response was this:

So it was what it was. She tried to withhold my phone plan from me as punishment because it was the only thing left that I relied on her for anymore. I said fuck it, got a new phone plan and continued on with my life.

I’ve tried to have conversations with her to reach an understanding hundreds of times in the past, countless letters and one sided conversations, she was never interested. It is what it is. We haven’t really spoken since then and I’m content with that. Believe me, I have said all I could possibly say.

In terms of my paganism, my whole family subscribed to a certain genre of black conservative Christianity that sees all indigenous forms of spirituality as evil. I don’t know how much they know about my craft but I know they hate it, and that’s fine. My mom hates my dark art and wanted me to use my ✨talents✨ to make Christian art. The only person in my family who even somewhat understands me is my older brother and we have a good relationship. I am no longer concerned with trying to please people who don’t see me as a person. Those who are real will stick around, and those who won’t, wont.

I know that they probably think I’m lost and broken and using demons to fill the void, and they can think that. One thing I want to make incredibly clear is that I do not harbour resentment towards the Christian God, Christianity or Jesus Christ for the terrible actions of his followers. I came to peace with and forgave him long ago. I love him. My being a Luciferian is not revenge against my mom or God. That God has always been there for me and supported me for who I am through all of this, and he still does.

Since I was a child I’ve always been told that I don’t know who I am, that I can’t think or speak for myself, and since I was a child I have always remained 10 toes down on who I am. They won’t believe that I’m really trans until the day I die, they won’t believe that I lived a beautiful and fulfilling life as a devotee of Lucifer because they cannot fathom that I know and love myself. Oh well, they say success is the best revenge.

I love my family and I always will, but for their comfort and my safety I keep my distance from them. I’m pretty damn sure they wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me anyways with all their paranoia about the devil.

Funnily enough Lucifer has been excellent bigot repellent for me. He’s always protecting me from people who would hate me anyways. If my paganism is such an abomination that it prevents my past abusers from hurting me more, then that’s a bonus in my eyes. Stay the fuck away from me if it bothers you so much, we don’t have enough in common to have a productive conversation anyways. If ever my mother came to me honestly and sought true redemption, I would certainly forgive her, I don’t enjoy being estranged. But that would take effort and care on her part, and that simply does not seem to be her biggest priority right now, it never was and I never was. It izz what it izz 🤷‍♂️

So yeah, tldr, I definitely don’t live with my parents lol.