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#but if i really think about it by this belief i am not allowed to hate on geto too because society failed him he failed to see the
siriuslynephilim · 8 months
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the good place
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dashiellqvverty · 1 year
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i just will never forget when the whole tramp stamps band scandal happened on tiktok and there were people in the comments saying they knew they were plants because they didn’t have “real alt makeup.” like i get the concept of “oh they’re clearly trying to emulate a culture they aren’t a part of” but the phrasing of it just truly made me lose it. like the idea that even within spaces where you are being weird and creative and having fun and playing with style you can be judged for doing your makeup “wrong.” how the fuck is there a real or right way to do “alt makeup” my god
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loveofastarvingdog · 1 year
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soooo so upset SORRY you cannot tell i am talkign about the holy spirit when i mention god's influence SORRY i did not use the exact words "holy spirit" and "discipleship" SORRY you cannot INFER from my discussion post whag i am saying. for real.
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bellwitchfaggot · 2 years
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I do understand the way in which spirituality is like a deep-seated psychological human need and the way in which ppl seem to tend to go a little batshit crazy when that need is not being met like I think spirituality is kinda the like glue that goes in all the cracks of a person's perception of reality and I do think spirituality is extremely useful for not losing the plot of one's life entirely. This being said however I used to be a very spiritual person and then it was systemically abused out of me by the psychiatric industrial complex and like. I can see now I think that a lot of the beliefs I used to hold and the ways in which I would process and make sense of the world were not actually harmful to me and were also not actually harming anyone else and I think I was like a much happier and more fulfilled person when I was a much more spiritual person and I'm really interested in trying to reincorporate a lot of that into my life but at this point I straight dont know how to like do that without feeling like I'm cracking tf up inside due to the extreme dissonance surrounding spirituality that has been bred in me specifically by people who I believed were helping me for a very large part of my life
#going to find a snackie then maybe get blasted n take a nap idk im sooo sleepy tired#oh just realized its cuz i think i only slept for like 3 hrs#christ maybe i'll start going to church again at some point idfk#i really dont. even know where to begin with starting to unravel what spiritual beliefs i may or may not actually hold and also like for me#spirituality is soooo tied very very VERY deeply in with my severe fucking long term and still semi ongoing cult trauma i just. i really#dont even know where to BEGIN with figuring shit like this out but the mere thought of reintroducing spirituality into my life makes me#feel like such a deepseated fear and sense of danger and unease. ig i gota figure out where tf the line lies for me at some point tho#personal#like. i have very good reason to believe that during my childhood and teenage years i was specifically being groomed to be like acting as#the leader of some sort of fucking apocalypse death cult by my church and that really complicates things!#and then like at some point in my teenage years SOMEONE started to like try to help me get out somehow which took the form of me being like#introduced to like neo paganism and shit and those were some of the most enjoyable and like positive but simultaneously like apeshit years#of my life . and then i was like forcefully medically lobotomized for like years using strong prescription drugs that i didnt really unders#tand what i was being given and like basically fully convinced by someone or something that all spirituality is automatically psychosis#the thing about that is i think believing THAT has actually somewhat led to me accidentally just becoming even more fucking insane#idk its all very complicated and like at this point in my life and recovery i am aware that like i have literally hundreds if not thousands#of unintegrated parts and its just going to take some real fucking time of me like being allowed and safe and comfortable enough to like#fully start to unravel all those different lived experiences inside of me that someone or some group of ppl may or may not have been#specifically attempting to prevent me from ever fully unraveling for me to like. figure out what my own actual opinions are on this and a#lot of other things are#idk i didnt mean to type this many tags on this post or go this in depth but here we r i spose. much 2 think abt#did log
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surpriserose · 1 year
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Finished the dark beyond the stars 🫡🫡🫡 get ready for the next book poll maybe with actual titles this time 😳
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drchucktingle · 10 months
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reverse call out post
i have noticed that SOMETIMES it really bothers folks to discover i am sincere and not playing a character. that tinglers are deep artistic expression. i think it  because these few buckaroos are often kind and even politically left but had problematic ways just a few years back
these buckaroos are forced to confront their previous assumptions about neurodivergence and queerness, which is bound to happen as time trots on and cultural landscape evolves. but this sudden realization they have about themselves apparently MUST be ignored and pushed away
theres BIG TIME buckaroos on this very platform who publicly made fun of and gatekept my autism. these posts are STILL THERE. folks questioning my bisexuality. and these are buds who at one time worked with chuck and were pretending to ‘like me’ in way that i now see was irony
these are a previous generation of liberal ‘comedy forum’ buds who laugh and laugh at ‘ridiculous bad erotica’ and wrote as a money scheme. those who would later say with concern ‘chuck tingle is homophobic for making fun of queer erotica’. the same THEY might gleefully write
and i think their reaction is a way to deal with truth that THEY were doing these things ironically and have ABSOLUTELY NO CONCEPT that someone else couldve been creating joyful queer neurodivergent art during the same timeline with sincerity instead of irony.
so now as chuck gets taken more seriously they have to confront something. question of ‘wait, was i laughing at a real person the whole time? was i calling someone homophobic when in reality it is much more homophobic to MAKE that accusation, because queerness is not a monolith?’
old posts calling out chuck as fake, dehumanizing me, gatekeeping my place on spectrum of autism AND sexuality are still up. they wont be addressed because these folks cannot ever acknowledge they treated someones very existence as a joke. they will not admit THEY needed to grow
and honestly buckaroos, I FORGIVE THEM. nobody is dang perfect and the internet is swirling with irony poisoning. those folks on old forums were BATHING IN IT DAILY. it does not bother me because it is the past, but pondering on it during moments like this i am compelled to write
i do not bring this up to punish for past, but to hope buckaroos remember lesson in the future: you do not need to gatekeep. you do not need to make yourself the arbiter of others lifestyle and identity. you do not need to score online points as a way of proving your goodness.
proving love is complicated sometimes, and a big part or that complicated journey is accepting there are some unique buckaroos out there, buds who actually ENJOY making neurodivergent art and expressing their queerness in unique ways. who need time to learn THEMSELVES through art
it is my belief and suggestion that buds allow others this space. to accept them as they come. to TROT WITH THEM INTO THE FUTURE. thats a heck of a way to prove love is real. i think we can make this trot of sincerity together and DANG am i looking forward to it. LOVE IS REAL
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onlyhuis · 1 year
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leaning on the everlasting arms
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member — childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader genre — angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au word count — 10.3k (my first fic over 10k wowie!!) synopsis — as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you. content warnings — female reader, she/her, reader is implied to be smaller (i'm sorry), discussion of gender roles & religion, no religion is mentioned by name but it's heavily implied to be a form of christianity, reader & shua are both seniors in college, reader wears skirts/dresses but not really by choice, this whole thing is pretty blasphemous oops smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, virgin!joshua x virgin!reader, mutual masturbation, phone sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), hints of a voice kink, size kink, praise, begging, really vanilla missionary but it's hot, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, angel) notes — although i am no longer religious, this is partially based off of my own experiences with the extremely traditional christian church i was raised in. however, please keep in mind that this is fiction and does not reflect my beliefs nor joshua's beliefs so don't take the plot too seriously. this piece is not meant to discuss whether certain religions are "right" or "wrong" so please do not comment/send me asks trying to start a debate! we're all just here for a little sexy time with shua it's not that deep note #2 — for those who aren't familiar, the title is the name of a hymn and i thought it was funny bc joshua big sexy arms hehehe
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as far back as you could remember, joshua was your closest friend.
his father was the pastor of the church your family went to, and as luck would have it you were both in the same grade, so it wasn’t long before you became inseparable. you saw him at minimum three times a week: sunday morning, sunday evening, wednesday evening.
you spent most of your childhood together. sitting next to each other at every service, sharing your bibles with each other whenever one of you left them at home, sneaking donuts away from the box at the table outside the sermon hall that was supposed to only be for the adults.
you did everything together, and told each other everything. that is, until you reached middle school. boys and girls weren’t allowed to sit in the same services anymore, and you had to stay in separate buildings for every church camp and conference. 
the worst part was you didn’t even understand why. what did they think you were gonna do with him? kiss him? no amount of money in the world could get you to do that! joshua was your best friend. who else were you supposed to climb trees and build forts and sneak donuts with? kissing was stupid.
when you asked your mom about it, she told you the same thing everyone else did: about how men of god had a different path and needed to hear different messages in order to grow up to lead their own churches one day. you thought it was stupid. what if a woman wanted to lead a church, why are men the ones that have to do it? but she would just shake her head and tell you it's just the way things work in the church, you'll understand when you're older.
you were allowed near him less and less until the only time you were able to see him was at the after-service brunch with his family, and even then that began to happen less and less as the years went on.
and of course it was church rules, so there was no arguing with them because that would mean arguing with god, and who were you to question his authority? there would be no special exception for you, no matter how much you protested to your mom that you would never, ever think about joshua like that. in a fit of anger one day you blew up at her, shouting that she had had friends of the opposite gender when she was in high school, so why couldn’t you? it wasn’t fair. but she had just sighed and stared out the window, clearly ending the conversation. many years passed before she finally told you about her life before she came to church, recalling all the times she had been hurt by men she had loved and trusted. you understood then why she had wanted to keep you sheltered and safe, but you still didn’t agree. but then again, if you had been allowed to do what you wanted then maybe things would never have ended up the way they did. perhaps you have her to thank.
back then, all you could do was hold on to the little time you had with him until eventually you stopped seeing him altogether. 
more summers passed and you started spending all of your time memorizing bible verses with your fellow “women of christ”, missing the way you used to spend your time with your best friend.
but then you went off to bible college like had always been planned for you, and everything changed. instead of continuing to follow the strict schedule that was laid out for you, you finally got a little taste of freedom, and you realized what you’d been missing all this time. everything that you’d been taught was sinful, evil, wicked, was what brought you more pleasure than you’d ever known was possible.
you still had to pretend to be a good girl for the people around you, who, for reasons you couldn’t comprehend, were still dedicated to their life of purity. or at least they acted like it. maybe everyone was secretly just like you, hiding their sins behind a friendly smile and a firm handshake every sunday morning.
you weren’t hurting anyone with the things you did in private, and the feeling of rebellion was a kind of satisfaction you didn’t know you were allowed to feel. you were an adult, making your own choices now and facing whatever consequences that came with them.
there was only one consequence. for some reason, all the impure thoughts you had always centered around joshua. no matter what dirty books you read or videos you watched, the man you always pictured giving it to you was joshua.
you hated that after all these years, everything still came back to him. you fought it, tried imagining actors or celebrities in his place instead; characters from your books and movies and shows, anyone but him. you wanted to save whatever memories you had left of him, think of him in a good light like you used to when you were younger, but the way he plagued your mind was worse than the ones in the book of exodus.
but now, in your final year of college, you thought you had finally gotten yourself under control.
that is, until you were leaving one of your bible lectures and all the control you’d convinced yourself that you had crumbled away in mere seconds when you saw a startlingly familiar face standing by the door. a face you hadn’t seen in far too long. 
“joshua?”
“hey,” he says with a smile, like no time has passed at all. like it’s been hours since you’ve seen each other, not years. 
there are so many things you want to say, so many things you want to ask him, but you’re frozen in place. why is he here? where has he been? how did he find you again?
“it’s been a while,” he says with an awkward laugh when you don’t say anything.
you nod, still in a daze. “yeah. quite a while.”
he smiles. “well, anyway, i’ve got a meeting to go to in a bit, but… i just wanted to see you.”
“oh,” you say. what else is there to say? what can you say to make up for the years lost that you’ll never get back?
he looks at his watch, the conversation clearly coming to an end.
“can i give you my phone number?” he says. a deep shade of pink creeps into his cheeks but he either doesn’t notice or purposely doesn’t acknowledge it. “maybe we can talk sometime, catch up.”
“i– yeah,” you manage. god, it’s so good seeing him again. “yeah, that would be really nice.”
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you’ve given up on homework for the night, spending your entire afternoon in a daze since you ran into joshua.
so many years, yet you still can’t get his smile out of your head.
you close your eyes, hand dipping below the waistband of your pajama pants automatically. it’s frightening how easily you’re able to bring up a picture of him in your mind, so much clearer than before now that you’ve seen what he looks like all grown up.
and grown up, he has. you had been too stunned to get a good look at him while he was in front of you, but the way he’d changed was immediately apparent and the image in your brain now feels almost unreal. 
his hair was a little longer and a little darker, and he was much taller, with broad shoulders that looked way too perfect in a suit jacket. but his face hadn’t changed a bit. maybe his jaw was a little bit sharper and his smile lines were a little bit deeper, but his eyes were the same ones you had always known. 
your hand slips lower and lower until you’re gently running the tips of your fingers over the panel of your underwear covering your pussy, moaning quietly when you feel how wet you are already.
no wonder it’s been so hard for you to focus all day. you’ve been too busy pushing away thoughts of joshua burying his fingers in your tight, wet cunt, cooing about how good you’re being for him and how long he’s waited for you.
automatically you feel your other hand grabbing for your phone, desperate to hear his voice again. you hadn’t said more than a few sentences to him earlier, but you feel like you’ll go crazy if you don’t hear him while you’re in this state. so needy for him and only him, and he doesn’t even know it.
your fingers shake as you press the buttons, knowing you’re about to get yourself into a whole world of trouble but not being able to stop yourself.
“hey.” he answers on the second ring. his tone is deep and husky, and your breath catches in your throat for a second, not used to hearing him talk like that; the last time you heard his voice was long before puberty, and you’re still navigating how to talk to this older, sexier joshua.
your first thought is to wonder if his morning voice sounds equally as sexy, but you’re immediately pushing it out of your head when you hear what sounds like him stifling a yawn.
“sorry, did i wake you? it– it’s not important,” you start, ashamed of how needy you are that you’d call him in the middle of the damn night, unprovoked, like some kind of bible group booty call.
the regret is already starting to set in. he probably hasn’t changed as much as you've built him up in your mind, probably still the obedient gentleman he was before. he’s probably already well on his way to being the head of a church, so of course he wouldn’t be thinking about you like that—
“no. it’s fine,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “always have time for you, sweetheart. what’s up?”
you shove down the butterflies that flutter up in your stomach at the name he calls you, a nickname he always called you when you were kids because he was taught it was always polite to talk sweet to a lady. 
except it feels so much different now. talking sweet to a lady as kids was easy, innocent. but one wrong word now would completely change the meaning behind those pretty words of his, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it.
“i… just– it’s been so long, joshie,” you whisper, surprised at the sudden feeling of tears springing up behind your eyes. you didn’t mean for this to happen— you didn’t mean for any of it to happen. not back then, and certainly not now.
he lets the line go quiet, finally sighing into the phone after a long pause. “i missed you… so much.” he murmurs your name, and the way the rumble in his voice goes straight through you immediately reminds you why you called him in the first place.
your free hand toys with the hem of your underwear again, fighting to keep down the whimper that threatens to escape you. “missed you too,” you breathe out. god, you can’t believe you’re doing this. but for the first time in years, the man you’ve been picturing in your head is right here with you, fulfilling some of your fantasies that you never thought could ever come true.
somewhere deep in your stomach you feel guilty about it, getting off to the thought of him and he doesn’t even know it. would he want to know? would he be okay with it? would he hate you forever if he knew?
he clears his throat, snapping you back to attention and you realize you must’ve been silent for a while, thinking.
“um, so, what are you doing?” you ask, trying to seem casual, but it comes out as anything but. nobody calls anyone this late at night and asks what they’re doing without having a dirty reason for doing so. 
all you can do is hope he’s either too innocent to pick up on it, or that he doesn’t believe you’re the type of person who would call for something like that. you wonder if he still thinks of you as that perfect little obedient church girl he grew up with.
“nothing, just–working on… stuff,” he replies awkwardly. clearly he doesn’t want to go into detail about what he’s doing, and you’re already afraid you’ve interrupted his sleep; you’re mentally kicking yourself for all the blunders you’ve made, and you haven’t even been on the phone for five minutes.
“what are you doing?” he asks back, and you freeze, trying to come up with some excuse, anything. fuck, think of something!
“h-homework,” you sputter out, attempting to hide your unconfident answer with a cough.
apparently it works, because he hums in response, the line falling quiet. you hear the rustling of papers on his end, and you press your fingers harder against your cunt, heartbeat racing in your ears.
your fingers brush against your clit a little rougher than you intend, and a little whine escapes your lips, catching you off guard. you slap a hand over your mouth, hoping it had been too quiet for him to hear and he hadn’t been paying attention.
“are you…?” he asks suddenly, and your cheeks flush, caught red-handed in your sinful act.
you clear your throat, praying (both metaphorically and literally) that he doesn’t notice anything off about you. “am i what?”
his silence on the other end of the phone speaks volumes.
“joshua, oh my god, no, i–”
“what did you just say?”
you freeze. “what… did i say?”
when he speaks again, his tone is even. “don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”
that nickname again, and now you know he’s doing it on purpose. innocent, pretty words, completely changed in a split second.
you let out a short laugh, scrambling to find a cover. “must’ve forgot then.”
he hums. “i remember you spent a whole month trying to memorize the ten commandments. we must’ve been what, eight or nine? you wouldn’t have forgotten. i may not have seen you since we were kids, but i’ve still known you most of my life.”
“it was an accident, you know how it is. just slips out. of course i remember them all.”
he tsks, and it feels like your heart stops. “did you forget that lying is a sin, too? you’re two for two now, wanna try for a third?”
damn him! damn his good memory and damn his stupid witty comebacks and damn the way he so quickly manages to unravel you.
you scowl and don’t respond to his question, your silence enough of an answer for joshua to know he’s right.
“why did you call me tonight?” he asks calmly.
you answer truthfully this time. “just wanted to hear your voice again. i really did miss you.”
the phone goes quiet again, and for a second you’re afraid he’s hung up, but then you hear him exhale. “it’s late. what are you doing?”
“i’m in bed, josh. don’t worry, father, i’m not staying up past my bedtime.”
he chooses to ignore your remark. “in bed doing what?”
you give him a half-suppressed laugh. “in bed laying down. what else would i be doing?”
“well, with the way you were trying to hide your moans earlier, i would’ve figured you were doing something more exciting. but if you’re just laying down, then i don't want to keep you long, might as well hang up…”
“no!” you squeak out, cutting him off. you swallow, trying to collect yourself as you repeat the word. “no. fine, whatever, you caught me. but– please, stay.” you can hear the plea in your voice and you know you should be embarrassed at how pathetic you sound, but you aren't. the only thing you can think about is joshua, joshua, joshua, and how good it feels to talk to him again.
“i’m here,” he says softly, and you let your eyes close with a sigh, relieved he’s not going to chastise you. but as much as you’ve both changed as you grew up, deep down you knew he wouldn’t. you figure you could do just about anything and he wouldn’t try to tell you what to do. he’d always been like that, and it’s what you’d loved about him; he never tried to control you or shame you for not acting like the perfect little angel everybody wanted you to be. 
you couldn’t say the same about others in the church. maybe that’s why you’d started to drift away from them and why joshua’s friendship coming to an end had left you so devastated. he had been the one and only person you could always count on, and they had not.
“are you still there?” he asks gently, and you realize you’ve been quiet for too long thinking.
“yeah,” you say finally.
“are you still touching yourself?”
you pause, stifling a gasp, taken aback by his forwardness. hearing him say it out loud made everything seem so real, the realization setting in about what you’re actually doing. “n– no.”
and it’s true. your hand has long since dropped away from your pajama pants, too nervous about being discovered to continue.
“well, why not?” he says. “don’t stop on my account.”
your mouth falls open. “i–”
“clearly you wanted something from me when you called. what is it, sweetheart? i can’t help you if i don’t know what it is you want.”
your brain practically short circuits at that, and it takes a very long minute for you to collect your thoughts into a coherent sentence. you want a lot of things, but you don’t know what’s okay to say or not or if he even wants to keep going. which is a silly thought, because he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to know. it dawns on you that maybe… maybe he’s curious, maybe he’s thinking about you, too.
“what kind of help?” you ask, still testing the waters. you think you have an idea of what he means, but you ask anyway. you’ve never done anything like this with anyone else, only by yourself; not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t want it to be with someone who wasn’t joshua.
“you said you wanted to hear my voice,” he says, and you swear his tone has dropped an octave. “then let me talk to you.”
you whine a little, still holding back but not putting in as much effort to hide it. “m’kay.”
“would it make you feel better if i told you i’m hard right now?”
you suck in a breath. “yeah?”
“yeah,” he says. “just thinking about you.”
you feel a rush of emotion at his admittance. pride? satisfaction? whatever it is, it makes your cunt throb, knowing that just the thought of you can get him going.
finally you dare to slide your hand down your pants again, unsurprised when you find your underwear sticking to you with how wet you are. you’re soaking, and you haven’t even done anything yet.
“hold on,” you manage, putting the call on speaker as you set your phone on the table beside your bed, scrambling to shove your pants and ruined panties off and onto the floor.
once free, you pick up your phone and turn off the speaker, holding it to your ear with shaky hands.
“all ready now?” he asks softly, and it reminds you of what he used to say before you’d play pretend games together. always making sure you were ready. he was hot back then, too, and you mentally curse yourself for never realizing it sooner.
you hum. “mhm. comfortable.”
“good,” he says, and you can almost hear him smiling. “go ahead and do whatever you’d like. but i want you to tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”
you squirm a little on the bed as you start to circle your clit with your fingers. “thinking about you, joshua,” you sigh, finally beginning to feel relief.
“yeah?”
“yeah. you look even better than i thought you would,” you groan, picking up your pace a little as you slip your index finger inside your walls.
he chuckles. “oh, really?”
“mhm. god, i never thought i’d be doing this. especially not with you.”
“and why is that, baby?”
the name makes you shiver. you’d imagined him calling you it many times, but hearing him actually say it is completely different.
“because—” you whimper, losing your train of thought when your brain suddenly pictures his fingers inside you instead of your own. “i’m so close already, please—”
his tone is gentle but firm. “i want you to stop now.”
“but– ah, feels so good, shua,” you say, moans spilling out of you, finally letting him hear everything you’ve been holding back.
you hear him curse in that low voice through the phone, and your hand stills for a split second in shock, your eyes widening. as far as you knew, he never swore. but then again, there were a lot of things he never did that you're discovering about him now. looks like you weren’t the only one who changed over the years.
“that’s not my name.”
you sit up a little in confusion, pushing your phone closer to your ear to make sure you’re hearing him right. “huh?”
“my name is joshua. if you’re gonna moan like a sinner about how good it feels when i tell you how to touch yourself, you better use my name properly.” he sounds almost angry, but it only spurs you on even further.
you let his words sink for a second before responding. “yes, sir.”
“fuck,” he moans, he actually moans, and if you weren’t already so far gone you would’ve stopped to listen closer, to ingrain the noise in your brain so you never again forget how he sounds. “what did i just tell you?”
“what, you don’t like being called ‘sir’? thought you wanted to be a pastor, joshua,” you say with a smirk, and you know he hears the mischief in your voice, daring him to give you what you want.
it’s probably a good thing he’s not physically in the room with you, because there's no way you would have been able to muster up the courage to say something like that to his face. you wouldn’t have dared to even look him in the eyes, but being on the phone gives you a head rush. because with only his voice and not seeing his face, you can convince yourself that he still isn’t real, that this whole phone call and even your meeting earlier had just been an elaborate figment of your horny imagination, your denial being the only thing saving your last shred of dignity.
“didn’t realize you’d grow up to be even more of a brat than you were before,” he scoffs, and your cunt pulses. 
“what are you doing right now?” you say, a little desperately. the change of subject isn’t very subtle but you don’t care. you won’t lie, you’ve been curious since the start of what he’s doing but he’s been so focused on you he hasn’t said anything about himself. you want to know everything about him— how he’s moving his hands, where he puts pressure, what he thinks about to get himself closer and closer.
he grunts unceremoniously. “i’m fucking my hand and pretending it’s you.”
“me too,” you whimper, closing your eyes as you focus on the movement of your fingers.
after a while he stops responding, and you can hear his heavy breaths over the line matching with your own gasps for air as you curl your fingers inside of you. you figure he must be getting close, but you ask him anyway, because you want to hear him say it.
“yeah– fuck, so close,” he chokes out, and the way his voice gets higher as he lets out a whimper is what finally makes you come undone.
with a moan of his name—his full name—you cum, clenching around your fingers as you struggle to keep your hand moving. your wrist is starting to cramp up a little from the position you’ve been in, but the pleasure coursing through you is more than worth it. it’s almost dizzying, more powerful than any orgasm you’ve had before and when you finally remove your fingers from your aching cunt your head is spinning and your heart is pounding.
you can hear a muffled string of curses through the phone and you know he’s right behind you. thoughts of him sitting on his bed run rampant in your head, imagining his stomach covered in milky cum and his pretty, pretty lips parted as he catches his breath.
the silence is heavy as you feel yourself come back down from your high. you struggle to find something to say after… whatever that just was, so you say the only thing that’s on your mind.
“i really did miss you, joshua,” you say quietly. unlike before, there’s not a hint of teasing in the way you say his name now.
and he sighs contentedly, finally hearing his name on your lips like he always wanted to. “i know. i missed you too.”
you both say your goodbyes and good nights quickly, still basking in enough of the remnants of your orgasms to not be too awkward about it. but after you’re settled in bed (for real, this time) and about to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder if things between you and joshua will ever be anything but awkward.
a memory surfaces: you and joshua running around at the park behind the church after a sunday evening service, no older than kindergarteners, laughing and playing until you collapse on the grass. your mom called for you both to get ready to go home, and no you’re not allowed to have a sleepover because it’s a school night but maybe this weekend if his mom is okay with it. before you ran off, he thrust his pinky out towards you and you shook on it, making a pact to always be best friends, even when you can’t have sleepovers. it didn’t ever occur to either of you that there might come a day where you wouldn’t be best friends.
you don’t remember what prompted him to make the pinky promise, but you know he’s never broken it. and you can only hope that he hasn’t forgotten it.
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it’s a few days later at one of your bible study groups when you see him next, and yet again you’re caught off-guard like a deer in headlights.
you’re sitting with a group of other ladies, annotating material for a test you couldn’t care less about when you hear your name called out– a familiar deep voice you can only pray doesn’t belong to who you think it belongs to.
oh, but it does belong to him, alright. it feels like you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you when you turn around and see joshua standing behind you, a warm smile on his face that makes you doubt anything ever happened. maybe it really was all just a delirious dream, too many years of yearning built up into one intense wet dream.
he puts a hand on your shoulder lightly, turning you away from the rest of the ladies. “hey, can we talk somewhere?”
and oh shit it was definitely not a dream.
your cheeks burn as you excuse yourself from the table, packing up your bible and pens and shoving everything in your bag as quickly as you can. you can almost hear the snickering already, the gossips whispering to each other that you must have done something unspeakable if the top-student, pastor’s son, joshua hong has to speak with you privately. ah, if only they knew.
you only wish you could go back there and wipe the smirks off of all their faces and tell them about what the perfect little gentlemen they all pretend they don’t have crushes on was doing on the phone with you last night. you wouldn’t do that, not in a million years, but just the thought of it is satisfaction enough. 
joshua leads you down the hall to a room that looks like an empty office. he opens the door for you, then closes it softly behind you.
“whose is this?” you ask, glancing around the room. 
“it’s… mine,” he says almost shyly, gesturing idly to a little engraved nameplate on the desk. joshua hong, pastor’s assistant. because of fucking course he would be.
“oh.”
he clears his throat, and in that moment you realize he’s just as nervous as you are. “listen…” he starts, taking a pause. “about the other night–”
“are you gonna kick me out?” you interrupt.
his brows knit together in confusion. “what?”
“are you gonna expel me?”
“no?” he says, still looking at you, baffled. “why would i do that? i don’t even think i have the power to, even if i wanted. which, for the record, i don’t.”
you don’t reply, focusing your gaze on the carpet instead.
he frowns. “is that really how you think of me? that i just go around tattling to my dad? from that… conversation, i thought it was clear i’m not like that anymore.”
the tips of your ears are burning at the memory of all the things you said to each other over the phone. but it never occurred to you that maybe he was just as sinful as you had been.
you stay quiet, the silence stretching on as shame and embarrassment and a hundred other emotions swirl in your mind and you struggle to figure out what to say.
luckily for you he fills the silence himself. he exhales, looking down at a stack of papers on the desk. “god, you… you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought about you all the time.”
“so did i,” you manage to whisper. “in more ways than you know.”
he gives you a teasing smile. “oh, i have a feeling i do know.”
you hold back a cough and look away, focusing your attention on a painting of flowers on the wall. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“if that’s how you wanna play this, fine.”
your curiosity piques, and you look back at him. he motions to the seat in front of the desk, wordlessly asking you to sit. hesitantly you do, and he starts to sit down at the swivel chair behind the desk, but you clear your throat and he glances up.
“can– can you not sit over there?” you ask softly. “feels like i’m being scolded.”
his expression softens a little, and he rolls the chair back into place, opting to sit next to you instead. “of course.”
except maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to do that, because now he’s sitting toe to toe with you and the closeness is overwhelming. at least on the other side of the desk there was enough distance for you to shrink and hide behind, but here, sitting like this, he can see all of you. and you don’t particularly want to be seen right now.
the tension is palpable as he takes his seat, still watching you. you take the moment to study his features: the slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips, the way the light catches on his long eyelashes and the way his broad shoulders look in that perfectly tailored sunday morning service suit.
“i always liked you,” he starts, and your gaze shoots up to his eyes. you open your mouth to ask something, but he shakes his head and you immediately fall silent, letting him finish. “i was almost glad when they made us go to different sunday school classes, because i wouldn’t have to sit there and pretend i didn’t have the craziest crush on you.”
“joshua, i–” you trail off, not even knowing what to say.
he pauses, as if debating his next words. “and i know it’s wrong, but i couldn’t get you out of my head when i… y’know.” his cheeks are flushed but he doesn’t look away from you, eyes searching your own for any hesitance or any sign that you don’t want this.
it’s then that you realize that the boldness you had felt hiding behind your phone, he had felt it too. saying words alone in your room at night was easy. sitting in public, in the daylight, and saying those same words to his face was so much scarier. and knowing that you’re both feeling awkward and shy and a little uncertain of how to talk about it gives you the confidence to keep going.
“when you would what?” you pry. you already know the answer but you want to hear it come out of his mouth anyway. you’ve already heard him say it, but something about sitting in his office, in a church, speaking such filth ignites a spark in you that’s completely different from the spark you felt a few nights ago.
he clears his throat and looks you in the eye, maybe gaining a little bit of that confidence, too. “when i would jerk off i would always wish it was your sweet little mouth instead of my own hand.”
you inhale sharply, and that’s when he finally breaks eye contact, his guilt-ridden gaze shifting to the wall behind you as his cheeks burn redder. “i didn’t feel good about it. felt like i was doing it without your permission, and i didn’t want that. i–”
“yes,” you say hurriedly.
he stops short at your interruption, instantly looking back at you. “yes…?”
“yes, you have my permission. whatever you want, joshua, always.”
his eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly, but you recognize it. even after all these years, after so much has changed, you still know his tells. you wonder if he still knows yours.
he murmurs your name in response, almost like a warning. “don’t say stuff like that,” he says, letting out a shaky breath.
“why not?” you ask, feigning innocence. but you know exactly what you’re doing, and you know exactly how you affect him: the same way he affects you.
he looks up at you. “you really are just as much of a brat as you were back then, aren’t you?” he says with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“why don’t you find out?”
he groans, leaning back in his chair. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to kiss you?” he says finally.
“probably just as long as i’ve wanted to kiss you,” you counter, and he raises an eyebrow.
you both stand up at the same moment, closing the distance in less than a second. 
you stare at his chest in front of you to avoid his eyes, until he brings up a hand and gently tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“are– you gonna get in trouble?” you breathe, heartbeat pounding in your ears as you stare at his perfect, perfect lips.
he hums, and it sends a shiver down your spine at the close proximity. “are you still giving me permission?” he asks, and you quickly shake your head yes. 
“always.”
he smooths his thumb across your cheek. “then i won’t be in any trouble at all."
and then his hand moves to hold the back of your neck and he's tilting his head and bringing his lips towards yours and then finally, after years of dreaming about it and even more years of denying it, you're finally kissing joshua and there's so many things happening at once that you can't seem to focus on anything because your mind is so full of everything and nothing and joshua and it all just feels so right.
you’re melting in his arms and falling into his touch and enjoying every fucking second of it. your heart speeds up when his hands slide behind your back, wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him, pressed chest to chest.
he pulls away to kiss you again, and again, and again, and you decide you’d be content to be like this forever, standing in his office in the church building making out like you’re the only two people on earth. 
but finally his lips leave yours, and he takes a tiny step backwards, heaving out a shaky breath as he looks you in the eyes. “what are we gonna do now?”
your heart plummets, doubts racing through your mind. did he not like it? does he not like you? did you really just ruin everything? why did he stop? why did he ask that—
but all your questions are answered in an instant when he coughs and you look down, finally noticing the prominent bulge in his dress pants. oh. that.
when you look back up at him his cheeks are flushed bright red, and he immediately begins to apologize.
“shua,” you call out to him, repeating his name the way you know he likes. “joshua. don’t worry about it. it’s fine.”
in fact, you find it incredibly flattering, that just a few kisses and gentle touches could get him this worked up. maybe it really has been you all along.
with a surge of confidence, you step back towards him, wrapping your arms around him and leaning to kiss him. “are you busy today?” you murmur, your cheek brushing against his.
he shudders, hands automatically finding your waist and pushing your hips against his own. “no. are you?”
you sigh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “not anymore.”
“fuck,” he curses, his grip on your body tightening “you really want to…?” he asks, almost shyly, as if he’s in denial this is really happening.
“absolutely,” you say, and you’ve never meant anything more in your life.
in a second he’s got you shoved against his desk, sending papers flying to the floor as he lifts you by your ass to sit you down on top of it. your kisses turn rougher and needier, your hands grabbing at anything you can reach to ground yourself: his hair, his shoulders, his back.
finally he breaks free, dropping to his knees in front of the desk. “please, let me eat you out.”
you moan out loud, probably too loudly for the thin walls of the office. but the visual of him on his knees to do anything other than pray drives you mad, and you need more of him, desperately. “joshua, please.”
he pushes your skirt up your thighs, moving it out of his way so he can stare eye to eye with your pussy. you whimper and instinctively try to hide your face in embarrassment, but something tells you he wouldn’t like that, so you resist, keeping your hands firmly planted on the edge of the desk.
“fuck, you’re soaking,” he says, his voice broken. “you’re so perfect.”
his hands reach up to tug at the hem of your underwear, and he looks up at you, silently asking for permission to continue. you nod eagerly, lifting your hips off the desk so he can slide them off of you, revealing your glistening entrance.
he whines at the sight, pretty lips parted in shock? awe? as if he can’t wait to taste you. he pushes his face into your pussy, gently at first, but when you moan and bring your hand up to his hair he dives deeper.
the moment he attaches his mouth to your clit, you jump, gasping as you try to shut your legs around his head but his large hands keep you held open. his tongue explores every inch of you, moving back and forth, up and down, mapping out your cunt with his mouth. 
“fuck, never dreamed you’d taste so good,” he sighs against your pussy, leaning away to take a breath after what feels like forever.
your legs are shaking and your cunt is throbbing as you also try to catch your breath. you’re not used to being touched like this and you’re definitely not used to being touched by joshua. so many thoughts running through your head and not a single one of them coherent enough to put into words. all you can do is weakly whine out joshua’s name and tug on his hair, pleading for him to keep going. you need release, and you don’t want it from anyone but him.
he stands up, his pants wrinkled from kneeling on the floor but still tented with a bulge so uncomfortably large you feel dizzy just thinking about it. you don’t even know if he’s going to fuck you or even if he wants to, but god you want to see his cock so bad. too many restless nights spent thinking about it, and now you might finally have the chance to see it in front of your face.
your mouth waters at the thought, and you start to slide off the desk, but joshua stops you. “what are you…?”
you look up at him, eyes blown wide with lust and you don’t even attempt to hide your eagerness. “please let me suck your dick. joshua, please.”
he whines, running a hand through his hair. “god, i want that so bad, but… i don’t think i can last if you do, and i was really hoping to fuck you.”
you close your eyes and roll your head back, moaning at his vulgar confession. but he sighs, and he sounds almost defeated, and you look back at him quickly, afraid he’s suddenly changed his mind.
“i’m not—prepared,” he admits, and you tilt your head in confusion before it sinks in what he means.
“ah. don’t suppose you would have any condoms lying around, would you, mr. pastor’s assistant?” you ask playfully, and he shoots you a glare.
“brat,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it, and your walls clench in response. “no, i don’t have any. not interested in anybody else, so… no reason to.” he looks like he has more to say, more serious things to say, but he keeps his mouth shut, his eyes searching your face nervously.
your stomach flips at his words, feeling your cheeks heating up. you hadn’t thought you would ever get this far, and especially not with him. because of the kind of school you were at, it wasn’t like the people here were doing the kind of things you’ve been doing—at least not publicly. even if you’d wanted to hook up with somebody (which you didn’t), everyone in your vicinity would shame you for even bringing it up. you may have experience with yourself, but anything with anyone else is completely new territory for you.
you fall silent, not sure how to continue the conversation as all your newfound confidence begins to crumble. what were you thinking? caught up in the heat of the moment, saying things you weren’t sure you meant. you were in love with him: that much you were sure of. but everything that comes after that is too new, too scary, at least for right now. you can barely even comprehend that he just went down on you, but you know you enjoyed it and honestly, you’d give anything for him to do it again. but there’s too much going on inside your head for you to even begin to process that right now.
he calls your name and you blink, looking back at him anxiously. “we… don’t have to. right now, or even at all,” he says gently. the tips of his ears are burning red but his voice is calm and steady.
“joshua, i want to,” you start, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap to give you something to focus on other than the way he’s watching you so intently. “but i– don’t know how.”
“neither do i, baby,” he says. the nickname makes you shiver; even though it’s not the first time he’s called you that, especially after the other night, you’re still not used to it. but somehow it’s comforting, and it makes you relax knowing that he’s still the same person you grew up with, the same person that knows almost everything about you. you’ve both changed so much, but deep down you haven’t changed at all.
he pauses when you don’t say anything back. “we’ll wait, then,” he says and wraps his arms around you, lightly at first but then squeezing when you don’t try to pull away. “we have all the time in the world. no need to rush.”
“we… do?” your voice is laced with uncertainty.
he smiles. “of course. i let you go once already, i’m not letting it happen again. never again.”
you turn your head away from him and hide your face, flustered by how sincere he sounds. he hums, and you can hear the pout in his tone so you fight your embarrassment and turn back towards him to ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind since you first saw him days ago. “this is gonna sound so stupid, but… shua, what are we?”
first you were childhood friends, you were best friends, and then you were nothing. right place, wrong time? and then you were… doing something on the phone together, whatever you could call that. and now you were just sitting on top of his desk, sweating from having almost had sex. how do you even begin to put a label on this?
“well, i’d like to be yours,” he says shyly, and just like that all your questions are answered with six small words. you realize it doesn’t matter what label you have; as long as you have him, that’s all that matters.
“yes,” you breathe, lifting your eyes to finally meet his and you see all the love in his eyes threatening to spill over.
he reaches up to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “i’m just glad i finally have you back,” he says with a soft smile as he watches you. “we’ll go slow, we’ll wait— whatever you want. whatever it takes not to lose you again.”
you bury your face in his chest with a whine. you’re hiding again, but even the uncomfortable scratchiness of his dress shirt can’t pull you away from him.
“besides, i don’t want our first time together to be in my stupid little office,” he chuckles and holds you tighter against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head that makes your heart flutter. “you deserve better than that.”
you stay there for a long moment, hugging him like it's the last time you'll ever see him. but this time you know it won't be the last. it's the first, the first of hopefully many, many more.
when you feel like you've been standing there too long, you clear your throat and lean your head back to look at him. "so, um… now what?"
he pauses, those pretty lips turned up in a smile. "do you have plans for lunch?"
"no, i just had that study group you pulled me from. i'm free for the rest of the day."
his smile widens. "perfect. you still like grilled cheese, or did you grow out of that, too?"
you laugh, putting your chin on his shoulder as you hug him. "i haven't changed that much, shua."
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after taking a while to collect yourselves (waiting for his erection to go back down so you can leave together without looking suspicious), you walk out of joshua’s office the happiest you've felt in years.
he'd wanted to hold your hand, too, but you were still anxious about anyone seeing you together that you'd refused him until you made it to his car. you were probably just being paranoid and no one would care about two responsible adults talking to each other, but all the time you'd spent hiding from your peers had put you on edge.
so, it wasn't until you were safely out of the church parking lot and in the driveway of his apartment complex that you let him touch you, kissing you over the cupholders with his hands gently holding your neck.
it took everything in you not to climb over the center console and sit on his lap in the driver's seat and kiss him as hard and as deeply as you really wanted, but you knew once you started you wouldn't be able to stop. and besides, he still didn't have any condoms. it didn't bother you either way, since you'd been taking birth control since high school to help with your periods, but if it was what he wanted you'd be more than fine with it.
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you don't know what you'd been expecting the inside his apartment to look like; probably some tacky cross-stitch bible verses or a wooden cross hanging on the wall, but his apartment just looked like… a normal apartment. a very clean apartment, actually, though you weren't surprised. he'd always been a neat, organized kid, and it looked like that was one thing he hadn't grow out of.
you watch as he puts his keys on a hook by the door, following him into the kitchen and sitting at one of the chairs.
he grins at you as he opens his refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients for your lunch before taking out a pan.
"shua…" you interrupt him, standing up and walking towards him slowly. "you're not— really thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches right now, are you?"
he hums, eyes following your every movement as the pan sits cold and abandoned on the stove. "there are… other things on my mind, yeah."
"so why are you still trying to make grilled cheese sandwiches?"
by now you're close enough to stand toe to toe with him, and you're sure he can feel the heat radiating off your body when he wraps his hands around your waist, backing you against the kitchen counter. "because i wanna make you lunch. maybe i just wanna spoil my girl a little bit."
a shiver runs down your spine at the new name he calls you. never in a million years did you think this is where you'd end up.
"i think you have all the time in the world to spoil me later, joshua," you mumble, leaning in closer and closer until your lips touch.
in a flash he's hoisting you up and sitting you on the counter. his mouth never leaves yours as you slide your legs around his hips to drag him closer, kisses growing deeper and more desperate now that you can finally be alone together.
his hands slide down your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt and only breaking apart for a second to slide it over your head before his lips are crashing against yours again. 
your hands find his hips, experimentally tugging on his belt to see his reaction. immediately he pulls away from you, 
cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. "sweetheart, i still don't have any condoms. if you really want to now, then we gotta run to the store first."
“i’m on the pill,” you burst out, hoping he gets the message. maybe he has some other reason for wanting to, but you're too impatient to wait for who knows how long it'll take to go to the store, and you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off him for that long. you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off of him for even a few seconds.
his face goes blank as he processes your words, struggling to understand if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. “you’d let me…?”
you grab onto his arms, a desperate attempt to pull him closer, to feel more of him. “raw, yes, joshua. just—please, i need you,” you beg him, cunt throbbing with neglect as you wait for him to answer. 
he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan, gripping his hands underneath your thighs and sliding you off the counter.
with a shriek you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk out of the kitchen carrying you. "joshua! what the hell are you doing?"
his face is still pressed against your shoulder, and you can feel his lips tickling your bare skin as he speaks. "i'll fuck you on my kitchen counter any day of the week, baby, but i want to have you for the first time in my bed, please?"
his voice is low and whiny, just as desperate for you as you are for him and it makes you moan with excitement. 
he finds his way into his room, stumbling a little when he accidentally runs you into the wall instead of through the doorway, but you just giggle and kiss him harder until he finally drops you on his bed, immediately unbuttoning his shirt.
you run your hands along his chest as he leans over you, feeling the toned muscle that feels almost wrong to be seeing. his physical changes are much more obvious to you now that he's like this, and you know the image will fuel your fantasies for weeks.
your hands move to his belt again and this time he allows it, letting you unbuckle it and toss it away before slowly lowering the zipper. he's already hard again, and your heart races when you put a little bit of pressure on the seam and he lets out a guttural groan in response.
his arms flex as he reaches down to slide your skirt off, and you help him and kick the fabric away, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear.
joshua pauses, letting his gaze wander your body as you look away shyly. he hums and you look back at him in confusion. "don't hide from me, sweetheart, please," he says, but it comes out more like a whine; not like he's asking, but like he's begging. it's honestly the hottest thing you've ever heard, and even with your nerves he makes it hard to resist.
"dreamt about this for fucking years. years," he moans as he leans over to kiss your chest, reaching behind your body to undo your bra and let it fall away. you whimper when he brings his hands up to cup your breasts, wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as he starts to slowly grind against your clothed pussy. you can already feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you're sure he can feel it, too.
his hands are like nothing you've ever felt, and you roll your head back against his pillows, arching into him as he massages your breasts with his large hands. you'd noticed them before, but you hadn't realized just how big they were until they were on top of you and made your body seem almost tiny beneath his massive palms.
"shua…" you breathe, tentative hands reaching up to touch his shoulders.
he looks up at you, mouth covered in spit. "yes, angel?"
you whimper at the nickname. no angel you'd ever learned about in sunday school had acted like you are right now, begging a man to fuck you. and on top of that it was before marriage, too; surely if there was a god they would be extremely disappointed in you. but right now you didn't care if the entire universe was disappointed in you, as long as joshua hong wasn't.
it takes you a few more seconds to build up your courage, but finally you open your mouth and tell him, "joshua, please— fuck me."
he slides forward to kiss you again, before sitting back and repositioning himself between your legs. "anything you want, sweetheart."
he lines his cock up at your entrance, and just before you think he's about to push into you, he looks up at you instead. 
"i love you, so much," he says, and you have to fight the urge to hide your face as you grin and giggle like a fucking schoolgirl; like the past version of you would have, if she'd had any sense and figured everything out sooner.
and, like always, he asks, "ready?", and you nod, and it's better than you could've ever imagined.
the whines that leave his mouth drive you close to the edge already as he begins to thrust into you, slowly, gently, just a little bit at a time but it still leaves you gasping from his size.
he keeps moving at a snail's pace until you reach up, fumbling to grab at his bicep as tears nearly spill out of your eyes and beg him, "joshua, more, please."
he leans over you, pressing his body flat against yours as he starts to rock his hips faster, and you cry out from so much pleasure and so much emotion hitting all at once.
"wanted you so fucking bad, for so long, and now you're finally here," he whispers, his thrusts never faltering despite how close in proximity he is to your face.
you whine as your hands claw at his back, digging in as you struggle to hold on and he curses again, pushing into you harder.
"you said i was better than you imagined," he groans, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. "but you're even better than i imagined. you're a fucking angel, so fucking beautiful."
you gasp his name, falling into your orgasm from his words alone as you clench impossibly tight around him. you always thought of him as the nice kid, the rule follower, but here he is, fucking you through the hardest orgasm of your life and saying such filthy things in between praises and compliments.
"jo-oshua, please!" is all you can manage, still struggling to recover before he crests into his own high with a whimper. his eyes scrunch up as he releases inside you, eyelashes fluttering and sweat dripping down his temples, and you think it's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. 
a constant stream of curses fall from his lips and you swallow them with yours, kissing him as if you're afraid he might disappear into thin air if you don't hold onto him tight enough.
his breaths are shallow when his mouth falls away from you, resting his forehead on your shoulder with a long exhale.
"god…" he starts, then stops and laughs, and you have to tug on his hair to make him face you again.
"what are you laughing at?" you say, cheeks growing hot when he looks at you with droopy, hooded eyes and a lopsided smile.
"nothing," he laughs. "just god. what a funny word."
"and why is that, baby?" you say as you try to hold back a smile, testing out the nickname.
he grins. "because it gave me you. or maybe it didn't. who knows?"
you finally laugh along with him, remembering what he'd said to you on the phone that feels like years ago. "don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”
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the church is humming with activity as you make your way to the front pew, carrying two donuts in your hand. people greet you as they mingle about the hall, talking and laughing. some wave excitedly when they see you, others simply smile and offer their hand for you to shake with a friendly “good morning and god bless!”
being a pastor’s wife isn’t something you ever imagined yourself doing, but then again, a lot of things in your life you never imagined doing. you never imagined seeing joshua again, and you never imagined marrying him, either. you certainly didn’t imagine taking over your father-in-law’s church when he retired and decided it was time for joshua to take his place as head of the church. you always knew he would someday, whether he wanted to or not, but you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life by his side no matter where he was or what job he had.
you’d been almost nervous when you decided it was finally time to tell your parents you had been seeing each other, but to your surprise they had been overjoyed at the news. both his family and yours were “just so glad when it happened to be you!”, saying things like “we’d always known it would happen, back since you were children!”, and “so when are we going to get some beautiful little grandchildren to take to sunday school!”
it had been five long and happy years since that very first phone call, and every minute you spend with joshua has been the best of your life.
you walk up the steps to the stage where your husband is waiting, flipping through his notes for the morning’s sermon. you hand him his donut with a grin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. he smirks at you, imperceptible to everyone else but you can tell what it truly means.
everybody in the congregation always talks you’re the perfect example of a happy, god-loving couple. such nice looking people, so well put together. but behind closed doors, they’d be horrified by the things you say and do together. wolf in sheep’s clothing, as is your husband’s favorite parable to preach.
it’s not the life you imagined, but it’s perfect to you and him.
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redwineandtarot · 2 months
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your future spouse's first impression of you
hi! after a long time i am back with another reading❣️ i asked spirit using the term fs but you can use this for soulmates as well. please remember we have free will, i am just reading energies so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. i would love to hear your feedbacks <3
🥀paid readings🥀
Disclaimer: My readings do NOT replace any professional advice. Use your own judgment while making decisions. You have your own free will. Take everything I say light-heartedly. All of my readings are for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.
pick a pile
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piles 1-2-3
all pictures are from pinterest.
pile 1
They will think that you are a selfless person. And that you are always ready to help others. Or fight for your values. But in a subtle way. To them you have a calming aura. They will also see you as someone reserved, someone who prefers to keep to themselves and speak less. From the first impression, you are someone who is a bit passive. 
They will think that you have a rich inner self. However you seem to be avoiding it. I don't really know what exactly this is but your fs will be confused as to why you are avoiding this amazing part of you.
You have a mystic and wise energy to you. And to them you look like someone that trusts the universe (or whatever you believe in). You also seem mysterious to them. They will be intrigued by you and will want to know more about you. Maybe it's because you are somewhat different from them. Like they may be an atheist and you may be a pagan or you two may come from different cultures etc. This difference will spark their interest in you. Because to them, you bring a different outlook on life.
They will think that you know how to balance things and can see the different parts of a situation. They will think that you try to be fair.
I don't know how your person will see this but they will think that you accept change as it is and with peace. Maybe it's your calm demeanor that made them think this way.
They will see you as someone who takes a lot on their plate. Maybe you struggle with saying no and end up helping everyone even if it burdens you. Or it's just the way they see you.
Around the time you first meet them you may be very busy. Also you or them (or both) maybe in your 30s. And you may have a 2 year age gap for some of you.
your song: intro: singularity-bts
significant placements: libra, pluto, 3rd house aquarius, uranus, 12th house leo, south node, 4th house
thank you for reading ❤️
pile 2
They will see you as someone reliable and nurturing. You have an earthy vibe to you (also fiery), to them. You look like that friend who never leaves their friends alone in their hard times. 
They will think that you have a lot of potential in you. And already doing quite good in life. You move slowly while making decisions. You think before you act. However when you decide something you move swiftly and get what you want. You seem passionate to them. The line “I want it, I got it” from 7 rings-ariana grande is your line!
They will think that you are quite attracted to them, lmao. But they may think that you already have someone in your life. Again they make a lot of assumptions so you may have not said anything about this topic but still they just can't sit still lol. They think that you shine a lot so maybe that's why they assume you are not alone or at least people are chasing you. 
They will think that you have a lot to offer. Emotion and passion wise.
To them you are quite firm on your beliefs. For some of you they may see you have a debate with someone or you may have a debate with them in your first meeting. Or it's just something that will allow them to see your argumentative side. 🔞They will think that you are s3xy when you get all bossy(?) like that lol.
You seem like someone who is quite comfortable in their own skin. However they will see the hard work behind this confidence. Idk they will try to analyze a lot probably. Like try to see through you. You may have had to work hard to gain your confidence and maybe you were self conscious/had a low self esteem but worked hard and became who you are today. Again this is in their eyes.
Some of you here could have brownish-reddish hair here. Or will have that color when you meet your fs.
you got two songs: better by myself- hey violet, to me-alina baraz
significant placements: saturn, 2nd house, cancer south node, 7th house, leo south node, 11th house, libra
thank you for reading ❤️
pile 3
First of all, you may have a purple aura. I know this is a bit off topic but it came through.
You may have a darker aesthetic or may prefer darker colors on your clothes around the time you meet your fs. And they notice this. They may notice your legs and think that they are beautiful. Also I heard, boobs/chest area for some of you.
They will think that you know how to enjoy life and enjoy yourself. You have this nonchalant energy to them. And they see you as someone who is not afraid to express themselves and live authentically. You are at peace in life. You love your life and seem to enjoy it. To them, you are like a “no bs” person. 
Like your clothing, you may like/like to search about what society deems as “dark”, like occult etc.
They will think that you are a disciplined person. However at first they may understand you wrong, this discipline can seem like the will to win no matter what, to them. They may see you as someone who is defensive and does not accept their faults. Someone who is willing to do almost everything to win. However I am not seeing that this is the case with you. Because of this later they may be ashamed of themselves. 
You also seem somewhat unattainable and unpredictable to them. But it's not like you do stupid things. It's more like when they think they know you, you say something totally unexpected about yourself. 
You have this great personality inside you. For them to see this side of you may take a while. I am not saying they will hate you but they will be a bit judgemental of you. You seem like the life of the party and like you are an authentic person but you are also such a deep person. However nonchalant you seem, you also have worries. And you have such a strong and a soft person inside you. They will see this eventually and embrace every part of you.
(For some of you this judgment may be because they are a bit more of a reserved person)
your song: take me-miso
significant placements: taurus, 3rd house, uranus leo, 11th house, neptune capricorn, 12th house, mercury
thank you for reading ❤️
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copperbadge · 1 year
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Hey Sam! Since it's currently AO3 donation time, I'm wondering what your thoughts are on it? I'm asking because you've written RPF and it's one of many "anti-AO3/anti-AO3 donations" people's favourite things to bring up when they're complaining about AO3 getting so many donations that it continuously obtains an excess of its donation goal whenever donation time rolls around? (Wow, how many times can I say "donation" in an ask?) Sorry if this question bothers you! I don't mean to offend or annoy.
Hey anon! Sorry it took a while to get to this, I don't even know if the drive is still going on, but the question came in while I was traveling and I didn't really have the time for stuff that wasn't travel-related. In any case, let's dig in! (I am not offended, no worries.)
So really there are two issues here and as much as some people who are critical of AO3 want to conflate them, they are different. While some criticism of AO3 may be valid, rhetoric against AO3 tends to misinterpret both in separate ways.
First there's the issue of what AO3 hosts -- RPF, yes, but more broadly, varied content that some people find distasteful or think should be illegal, which is a misunderstanding of the purpose of the archive and more broadly a dangerous attitude towards the concept of freedom of expression.
Second, there's the issue of AO3 generally outpacing its fundraising goals while not allowing monetization, which is a misunderstanding of the legal status of AO3 and to an extent a misunderstanding of philanthropy as a whole.
The longer I watch debates about content go on, the more I come to the conclusion that I was fortunate to have a teacher who really wanted to instill in us an understanding of free speech not as a policy but as an ongoing dialogue. It's not only that freedom of expression "protects you from the government, not the Justin" as the meme goes, but also that freedom of expression is not a static thing. It's an ongoing process of identifying what we find harmful in society and what we want to do about it.
Should the freedom to shout "Fire!" in a crowded theater be restricted? Should the freedom to yell slurs at drag performers? Should the freedom to teach prepubescent kids about gender, sexuality, and/or safe sex? Should the freedom to wear a leather puppy hood at Pride? Who gets to say, and why?
I was nine when my teacher did a unit on freedom of speech and the intersection of "harm prevention" and "censorship", which is (and should be) a discussion, not a set of ironclad rules. This ambiguity has thus been with me for over thirty years, and I'm comfortable with the ambiguity, with the process; I'm not sure a lot of people critical of AO3's content truly are. Perhaps some can't be, especially those affected by hate speech, but RPF is not hate speech. It's just fiction. Or is fiction "just fiction"? This is a question society as a whole is grappling with, although fandom seems to be a little out ahead of society in terms of how explicitly we discuss it.
The idea that prose can incite violence or cause harm is both valid to examine (witness the rise of fascism on the radio in the 20s, on Facebook and Twitter in the past ten years; they're very similar processes) and a very slippery slope. Because again: who decides what harm is, and what causes it, and what we do about it? Our values align us with certain beliefs, but those are only our values, not universal truths. So AO3 is part of the ongoing question of harm and benefit both to society and individuals.
AO3 itself, however, has a fairly defined policy that it is not meant to police content; it is an archive, not a bookstore or a school board. AO3 refines its TOS and policies as necessary, but the goal is always open access and as much freedom of expression as possible, and if that's uncomfortable for some people then that's a discussion we have to have; ignoring it won't make it go away. But it has to be a discussion, it can't be a unilateral change to the archive's TOS or a series of snaps and clapbacks, and I don't see a lot of people ready to move beyond flinging insults. Perhaps because they were taught a much more binary view of freedom of expression than I was.
So, self-evidently, I support AO3 and I don't have a problem with RPF. Whether other people do is something we're going to have to get to grips with, and that's likely to be a process that is still going on when most of us are dust. I'd rather have a century of ambiguity than a wrong answer tomorrow, anyway.
But whether AO3 hosts RPF is truly a separate issue from its donation drives, because it's a criticism some people level at the site which exists whether it's fundraising or not. So people can criticize AO3's open policy and they can give it as a reason not to support the site, but it's just one aspect of the archive and the fundraising as a whole should be examined separately.
I think AO3's fundraisers are deeply misunderstood (sometimes on purpose) because even people who are anticapitalist get a little crazy when money gets involved, and this is, to fandom, a lot of money -- a few hundred thousand, reliably, every fundraiser. To me, a fundraiser that pulls in three hundred grand is almost quaint; my current nonprofit pulls in better than ten million a year and my previous employer had an endowment of several billion dollars. At my old job I didn't even bother researching people who couldn't give us a hundred grand.
On the other hand, AO3 is an extreme and astounding outlier in the nonprofit world, because basically it's the only one of its kind to work the way it does. It is entirely volunteer-run on the operational side (ie: tag wranglers, coders, lawyers, etc) and has no fundraising staff (gift officers, researchers, outreach officers) as far as I'm aware. To pull in three hundred grand from individual one-time donations, without any paid staff and without even a volunteer fundraising officer? That's insane. That doesn't happen. Except at AO3.
What people misunderstand, however, is the basic status of a nonprofit, which is a legal status, not simply a social one. (I'm adding in some corrections here since it gets complicated and the terminology can be important!) The Organization for Transformative Works, the parent of AO3, is a nonprofit, which indicates how it was incorporated as an organization; additionally it is registered federally as tax-exempt, which carries certain perks, like not paying sales tax, and certain duties, like making their financials transparent to a certain extent. (Religious nonprofits are exempt from the transparency requirement.) If you're interested in more about nonprofits and tax-exempt status a reader dropped a great article here.
Nonprofits, unlike for-profit companies, cannot pay a share of their income to stakeholders. Nonprofits don't have financial stakeholders, only donors. They can have employees and pay them a salary -- that's me, for example -- but if a nonprofit pulls in $10M in donations, my salary is paid from that, I don't get a percentage and nobody else does either. That's what it means to be a nonprofit -- the money above operational costs goes back into the organization. The donations we (and AO3) receive must be plowed under and used for outreach, server maintenance, further fundraising, services expansion, et cetera. You can see this in the 990 forms on Guidestar or ProPublica, or in their more accessible breakdowns on Charity Navigator. Nonprofits that do not put the majority of their income towards service provision tend to get audited and lose their nonprofit status. So nobody's getting paid from all that money, and the overage that isn't spent goes into what is basically a savings account in the name of the nonprofit. (I'm vastly simplifying but that's the gist.) Using that money for personal purposes is illegal. It's called "private inurement" and there's a good article here about it. The money belongs to the OTW as a concept, not to anyone in or of the OTW.
So the biggest misunderstanding that I see in people who are mad at AO3 fundraisers is that "they" are getting all this money (who "they" are is never clearly stated but I'm pretty sure people think @astolat has a special wifi router that runs on burning hundred dollar bills) while "we" can't monetize our fanfic. But "they" get nothing -- nobody even earns a salary from AO3 -- and you can easily prove that by looking at the 990 forms they file with the government, which are required to be made public. You can see the most recently available 990, from 2020, here at Guidestar. Page seven will show you the "highest compensated" employees, all of whom are earning zero dollars or nonmonetary perks (that's the three columns on the right).
Either AO3 is entirely volunteer-run or someone's Doing A Real Fraud. The money the OTW spends is documented (that's page 10 and 11 primarily) and while they may pay for, say, the travel and lodging expenses of a lawyer going to DC to defend a freedom-of-expression case, they don't pay the lawyer for their time, or give them a cut of the income.
Despite what you've read, the reason "we" can't monetize our fanfics on AO3 has nothing to do with the site being the product of volunteer handiwork or AO3 having it in their terms of service or it being considered gauche by some to do so; it's because
IT'S ILLEGAL.
I cannot say this loudly enough: It is against the law for a nonprofit to be used by its staff, volunteers, or beneficiaries to earn direct profit from the services provided by the nonprofit.
You can be paid to work at one, but you cannot side-hustle by selling your handmade friendship bracelets for personal gain on the nonprofit's website. If the nonprofit knowingly allows monetization of its services, it can lose nonprofit status, be fined, be hit with back taxes, and a lot of other unpleasant bullshit can go down, including prosecution of those involved for fraud. If you put a ko-fi link on your fanfic, you are breaking the law, and if AO3 allows it, they are too.
Okay, that was a sidebar, but in some ways not, because it gets to the heart of the real complaints about AO3 fundraising, which is that people in fandom are sick or unhoused or in some form of need and other people in fandom are giving to AO3, a fan site that is financially stable, instead of giving to peoples' gofundmes or dropping money in their Ko-Fi or Paypal. And while it is a legitimate grievance that there are people who are in such desperate need while we live in an era of unprecedented abundance, that's not AO3's fault. AO3 doesn't solicit actively, there's no unasked-for mailings or calls from a gift officer. They just put a banner up on their website, and people give. (Again, this is incredibly outlier behavior in the nonprofit world, I'd do a case study on it but the conclusion would just be "shit's real, yo.") You might as well be mad that people give to their local food bank instead of someone's ko-fi.
You cannot lay at AO3's feet the fact that people want to give to AO3 instead of to your fundraiser. That's a choice individuals have made, and while you can engage with them in terms of why they made the philanthropic choices they did, to blame an organization they supported rather than the person who made the choice to give is not only incorrect but futile, and unlikely to win anyone over to supporting you. We know from research that guilt is not a tremendous motivator of philanthropy.
It is also not necessarily a binary choice; just because AO3 gets a hundred grand in $5 donations doesn't mean most of the people giving don't also give $5 elsewhere. I support the OTW on occasion, and I also fundraise for UNICEF and the Chicago Parks Foundation and BAGLY and others, in addition to giving monthly to several nonprofits that I have longterm relationships with -- my alma mater, the animal rescue where I got the Cryptids, my shul. And I give, occasionally and anonymously, to fundraisers that pass through Radio Free Monday, which are mainly individuals in need, because I was once in need and now I pay it forward. These are the choices I have made. Nobody twisted my arm. I respond poorly to someone making the attempt to do so by attacking places I've given.
I think the upshot is, after all of this that I've written, that we cannot begin to come to grips with questions of institutional inequality in philanthropy, or freedom of expression and censorship, until people actually understand what's going on, and too few do. So all I can do is try and explain, and hopefully create a forum for people to learn and grow when it comes to charitable giving.
Archive Of Our Own and the Organization for Transformative Works are products of our community and as that community changes, we will necessarily continue to re-evaluate what aspects of it mean and how AO3/OTW express the community sentiment. I hope that the ongoing discussion of support for AO3 also leads to people learning more about their philanthropic options. But criticizing AO3 for fundraising by attacking it for fulfilling one of its stated purposes is silly, and attempting to guilt people into giving in the ways one thinks they should give rather than how they do give is just going to make one extremely unlikable.
As members of this community, we have to be a part of the push and pull, but it's difficult to do that competently in ignorance. So, I do my best to be knowledgeable and to educate my readers, and I hope others will do the same.
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eve-was-framed · 10 months
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tbh I don’t think I’ll ever really forgive the trans movement for indoctrinating so many people into the belief that women speaking about our sex-based oppression is “terfy” and shouldn’t be allowed and any woman who does it wants to genocide trans people. even if they back off of this stance, the damage is done.
me saying “women are oppressed on basis of sex, not gender identity, and we cannot identify out of that oppression” does not mean I think it’s okay to kill or hurt trans people. it does not mean that I agree with right-wingers when they say gender non-conformity is destroying civilization. It does not mean that I am going to vote for politicians who think all gay people/gender non-conforming people are groomers.
it literally just means you cannot change your biological sex (which was never a controversial statement, even among trans people, up until like 5 years ago) and females should have special protections and spaces since we are constantly being preyed upon by males who see us as subhuman sex objects. that doesn’t mean I think all trans people are predators, it means that enough males are predatory toward women that we deserve to have spaces away from them (especially spaces where we’ll be not fully clothed).
we deserve to be able to talk about female-specific oppression without being told we’re evil genocidal nazis. and the fact that they constantly have to misrepresent what our actual beliefs are tells me they know we’re right and it scares them.
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cloudcountry · 1 year
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kiss me more (book six spoilers)
SUMMARY: Vil wonders why the Prefect has been avoiding him lately, only to find that the answer is very interesting.
CHARACTER: Vil Schoenheit.
WARNINGS: None!!
COMMENTS: who else freaked the fuck out when vil kissed their cheek in game? i am raising my hand. i was so freaked out that i had to brain dump and now this exists. vil stans come eat.
~~~~~
Vil doesn’t quite understand what’s gotten into the Prefect ever since they returned from Styx. Whenever he is in their general vicinity, they make a run for it with a panicked look on their face. It’s starting to get irritating, because he can’t even confront behavior with how good they’ve gotten at avoiding him.
And so he hunts them down. They’re almost certainly at Ramshackle at this hour, and if this is what it takes for them to give him the explanation he wants, he will corner them on their own turf.
Vil knocks on the door and receives a quiet  “I’m coming!” from inside. Footsteps follow, and when he hears the door unlocking he braces for their inevitable escape attempt.
Attempt, because they aren’t getting away again.
The second the door opens, he catches it with his hand. He doesn't force himself in, he’s not a brute. He just stands there and watches their expression shift from panic to guilt.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asks, voice level and calm, “Have I done something to offend you?”
“Um-! I mean, no…” they murmur, looking anywhere but him, “You’re better off just not knowing, okay? I’m sorry-”
“I want to know.” he says, unrelenting as he narrows his eyes at them.
“I…It’s so embarrassing-! Please don’t laugh at me, okay?” they cover their face with their hands as they speak, and he hears the whispery scream that follows.
“Why in Twisted Wonderland would I laugh at you?” he shakes his head and sighs, “I’m not here to judge you. I just want an explanation.”
“I can’t stop thinking about what you did at Tartarus!” they blurt out, “Every time I think about you kissing my cheek I die! I can’t be around you after that, I would fumble and trip all over myself and be a nuisance! It would be embarrassing!”
Vil stands in shock as they cover their face again, clearly flustered beyond belief. Oh, this is so entertaining. He really should be kinder, but he has half a mind to tease them right now.
He shouldn’t.
But he does.
“Oh, is that right?” he chuckles, reaching out and peeling their hands away from their very warm face, “If you wanted another one, all you had to do was ask.”
“W…What?!” they shriek, hands trembling fiercely in his gentle grasp, “What are you talking about?! You can’t just-!”
“Oh, but I can. Will you allow me?” he hums, letting go of their hands in order to cup their face, “It would be a pleasure.”
“I…I…I…” their mouth moves but no words come out, and Vil can’t help but think they’re just downright adorable right now.
He tilts their head and leans in, giving them the room they need to pull away if this is not what they want.
They don’t move.
He holds them reverently as he presses a kiss to their cheek, letting it linger before he pulls away. He can practically feel how warm their face is from his teasing, and it fills him with a smug satisfaction. Who else could make them this speechless?
“What was that for?!” they shriek, frantically waving their hands around their neck and face, “You-! You can’t just do that-!”
“I do hope you’ll stop ignoring me now.” Vil smiles smugly as he stares at them adoringly.
They’re still babbling, attempting to regain their thought process, but he knows they understand.
And if not, he’ll just have to teach them again.
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adviceformefromme · 4 months
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How to re-programme your subconscious mind…(tried and tested)
When the retreats don’t seem to have a lasting effect, you’ve done therapy, prayed, been to see healers, meditated… but for the life of you, stilllll have wounds so deep that they might appear to be resolved but the moment you meet someone who is wow you suddenly feel unworthy. Maybe not even suddenly, but your relationship wounds are running deep. Relationships trigger you. You end up feeling the same 90% of the time. Unlovable, unwanted, and rejected. The key to remember is that it started with you. With the mind, with your thinking. At whatever point in your childhood (or even later) you took on the belief that you're not worthy, your needs were not met. You took on behaviours that play out still to this day. Maybe it was hiding yourself, maybe it was lashing out? Whatever it is, the same way it started with you, with your thinking, with your processing of events. Is the same way you heal your self. Here are some steps: 
1] Forgiveness. Forgiveness is going to free you from your past. Write a list of all the people and situations that caused you pain from your earliest memory to this very day. Whatever pains are etched in your mind, write them down. Once your list is collated, start going through each scenario, sending love and forgiveness to yourself and whoever was involved. Imagine yourself as a loving carer healing the parts of you that were vulnerable, hurt and not safe. Visualise giving yourself love in each scenario. Creating peace. Once you’ve been through a scenario and feel truly at peace with the situation scribble it out and once you are completely done with the papers you can burn them and set yourself free. (this process can take weeks / months depending how long your list is but it's not to be rushed).
2] Whatever is still lingering, use your journal to clear this out. For example, if I asked you right now if the man of your dreams was to appear.. would you feel worthy? Right now as your are? It might not be a man, it might be a job, a salary. Whatever it is, start challenging your old beliefs. You might not feel pretty enough, you might not feel like you are deserving… whatever it is start questioning old ideas you have about yourself. Challenge them..
3] This is the most important step… Once you’ve done the above. You’ll start to see some themes, maybe in your forgiveness list you realised your voice didn’t matter as a child, and that you were silenced, and that you hid yourself as a way to feel safe…whatever you uncover. 
3.1 - You are going to write a script, in simple terms - something a child would understand and make sense of and you’re going to write out new beliefs to re-programme your mind. Example ‘I am willing to forgive those who hurt me, I am willing to forgive myself for the hurt I went through, I am no longer hiding myself from the world, I am choosing to be seen , to be celebrated, I am allowing my voice to be heard, my true voice, I matter’ - you want to cover all basis. Every old belief about not being enough, you need to re-write.
3.2 - Record yourself on your phone in a very slow peaceful loving tone reading your script. 
3.3 - You need to listen to this recording every single night for at least 1-4 weeks. (It’s usually 21 days, but I did a recording for 1 week on feeling safe and I felt truly healed as if it was a miracle). I was able to LOOP the recording using Mac...I sent the voice recording from my iPhone to my MacBook using airdrop and then opened the sound file in iTunes and pressed repeat. This allowed a short recording to loop all night as I slept. It’s really important to play this on a loop as you want to IMPRESS your subconscious mind with the new beliefs. It’s your own voice, its your own re-wiring. 
I hope this helps! The deeper healing work is crucial if you really want to remove those old wounds that seem to be stuck and not budging!
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pupmkincake2000 · 5 months
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Characters study?
Since I play as Gale, I wanted to look at relationships from his side and from my own, since I think that Gale and I have very similar beliefs regarding relationships.
Don't get me wrong, I love Halsin,
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he's an incredibly kind and caring teddy bear, but being in a relationship with him is not for everyone. And there are moments in the conversation with him that were very unpleasant for me. But I’m glad that he warned me in advance how he perceives a relationship with someone.
Yes, there are many people who are into polyamorous relationships, but I don’t think Gale is one of them, despite the opportunity to sleep with Halsin even when playing as Gale (I think that in this case some lines should not be available at all as it was with the Dark Urge, when you cannot resist your nature, even when playing a good character).
Now I will explain why.
Halsin honestly admits that monogamy is not for him. He considers us someone special, in fact, declares his love, but immediately says that we are not that special at all and he, even having entered into a relationship with us, will still be free to sleep with other people.
His words are not a lie, but they seem to contradict each other.
That is... there are more people who want to be something special, who want exclusivity from those they are dating than those who would prefer polyamory, I believe. In the case of Halsin, you will simply be just one of his huge number of lovers, and, perhaps, in another couple of decades, he will say those words about love and specialness to someone else, as he spoke to us. It's not mine cup of tea, to be honest. I am a selfish person, and I would like to be special for someone I love. And I really didn’t like that Halsin, without even knowing whether such a relationship suits me, says he hopes to sleep with the person I am dating too. This remark made me understand that although Halsin is still my type of men in appearance and character, he absolutely does not fit into my understanding of relationships, love and specialness. Let me remind you, I play Gale's origin and I am sure that Gale would also refuse and be disappointed.
Just like Astarion. And I will now explain why.
Literally Gale's entire problem and trauma is based on the fact that he wants to be loved,
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he wants to be cared for, seen, considered special (which in the case of Halsin will be impossible), he wants to be visible and significant. I know that playing his origin you are still able to choose any lines but... if you play Tav and romance him, Gale does not agree to share his love with someone else and does not agree to be shared too. I believe that Gail is monogamous, and not just monogamous, but he won't allow the thought that his loved one could be with someone else or that he himself could be with someone else while already being in a relationship. Such people rarely fall in love, they are like the wolves Halsin spoke about, who choose a lover for the rest of their lives. And no, I don’t think Mystra was such a lover. I'm sure Gale wants in a relationship not so much exclusivity, but to have something of his own. Something that no one can take away from him. Someone only his.
The same story with Astarion.
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He hasn’t had anything of his own for 200 years, and despite his mannerisms and flirting with everyone, he also wants to have something of his own, something that no one will take away from him, and something that will belong to him and to no one else. He is also desperately looking for someone who will be his. Only his. Yes, he agrees to a threesome, he agrees to share his lover with Halsin, but he clearly does not want this and agrees only because he is afraid of losing his love. He refuses to have sex with the drow twins, and if you agree, he will most likely end the romance with you. He is very afraid of not satisfying his lover; he wants to be desired and loved. He and Gale are very much alike when it comes to the relationship, although their reactions are different. Both want exclusivity. One speaks about it directly, the second one shouts about it with his behavior and body language.
I think that's why I love the ship so much.
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They both want the same thing, they just express their desires differently.
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genderkoolaid · 5 months
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Look, has it been considered here that perhaps this post was about people who did kill their abuser and were jailed for it? I understand the concern for a compassionate society, however we live in a society that punishes the survivor when they kill their abuser in self defense. You don't have to agree with the post, but to reblog it and act like a perpetrator striking back is the root of the societal problem instead of addressing the matter of the rapists themselves as the problem is honestly just...honestly really gross. I really loved your blog, but I'm gonna have to block you. Enough transmasculine people are survivors of rape and sexual assault that I'm sure it's not just going to be me on this one.
I literally said that I do not think people who kill their abuser are bad people. I am firmly against people being jailed for killing their abuser (and in general).
The tweet was, in full, saying that people should be allowed to kill their abusers. It added no other nuance despite this topic being one which very much requires nuance. And there is a strong prevalence in leftists spaces of the idea that murdering people believed to be abusers, rapists, etc. is a completely good thing which should be actively encouraged, which is a dangerous idea that I cannot support.
Saying "mob justice is dangerous and we should not glamorize it" does not mean that I think victims who strike back at their abusers are the problem, or that I think nothing should be done to address abuse. This is not that. I understand that a lot of people are very emotionally attached to ideas of violent revenge, but we have to be able to criticize such attachments & how people translate them into political beliefs without falling back on "so you think abuse victims who fight back are bad people??"
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shellforbrains · 28 days
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the idea of Stolas publicly humiliating Blitzø in Apology Tour needs, needs, NEEDS to be looked at through the lens of their class difference.
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(this is an idea that's been floating around twitter. that stolas is going full diss track in the scene the above screencap is from.
and weirdly enough, there's been some people PRAISING or DEFENDING the idea.
so i did a thread about it on twitter & decided to post it here too bc why not. slightly edited of course bc i made typos in the original lmao.)
first off: i am of the belief that one of the big reasons that Full Moon goes badly is bc stolas is off his meds.
i think that both stolas & blitzø will share some blame for the conversation spiraling out, but i think the main underlying reason that this happens is bc stolas is off his meds & not communicating his point properly.
second: i think that if blitzø DOES cross some sort of line in FM & ends up really hurting stolas, stolas is obviously within his rights to be hurt & feel bad about that shit. and especially bc he's going through his second adolescence & feeling a lot of these intense & big feelings for the first time.
him lashing out in some way or being a little petty could be in somewhat understandable. he's not perfect & has flaws just like everyone else.
HOWEVER. i do not think stolas lashing out after FM or going so far as to PUBLICLY HUMILIATE blitzø is what will happen. doing something like this would kinda be major steps backwards in stolas' character growth.
he has done a lot of work on himself over the 1st half of season 2 but he still has a long ways to go, ESPECIALLY in regards to how he treats imps as a whole.
stolas, a very powerful and influential prince of hell showing up to publicly humiliate blitzø, an imp at the bottom of hell's class system, would be... very questionable at best. and potentially dangerous for blitzø at worst.
regardless of how hurt stolas could potentially be & what big feelings he's experiencing for the first time in his second adolescence, the position & privilege he still currently holds are things that always needs to be considered. especially since a huge part of his character arc is that he's starting to REALIZE the extent of that class divide & how he unintentionally took advantage of that with the Full Moon Deal.
i REALLY do not think that stolas will actually belt out a blitzø diss track. i think that he will be using this opportunity to attempt to communicate properly what he WANTED to say in FM but couldn't bc their conversation spiraled.
but i am still writing this to try to get people to look at this from an alternate perspective.
i love stolas. i relate to him so much & i don't want to make it seem like i don't think he's allowed to be imperfect or hurt by things. i am merely REMINDING anyone that reads this that the class difference between stolas & blitzø currently still plays a large part in A LOT of aspects of their relationship.
publicly humiliating blitzø with the influence he has would NOT be a girlboss moment. it would carry a LOT of weight on how blitzø & his company could be seen & maybe even have an effect on their livelihood.
which is exactly what stolas wanted to AVOID by giving blitzø the crystal in the first place.
he is giving the crystal so that I.M.P can keep going & growing, as well as trying to put blitzø & himself on ever-so-slightly more even footing. this idea of publicly humiliating blitzø would be the exact OPPOSITE of that.
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sainns · 19 days
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DROP THE ALBUM!ㅤ⊹ㅤPSH SMAU
PROLOGUE the breakup and afterwards
note i lied this did not come out at 330 im impatient and uhh he kinda did u dirty i apologize but yn is maybe a little dramatic IDK
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“i think we should break up, yn,”
you blink, lifting your head up from where it was resting on his chest. your sudden movement knocks the laptop off of sunghoon’s lap, the movie you were watching continuing to play in the background as you stare at him.
“what? wait—are you serious?”
he sighs, running a hair through his messy hair, “yeah, i am,”
“that’s so random. we’re literally cuddling in your bed right now, sunghoon,”
you shouldn’t be getting angry with him, if he wants to break up then he’s allowed to—even if it hurts you more than anything. it just doesn’t make any sense as to why he wants to.
you can’t wrap your head around it, as far you know—or knew—you were perfectly fine. you’ve been together for three years, so obviously you’ve fought but it’s not like they were big fights. everything in your relationship was good. at least you thought it was, sunghoon didn’t apparently.
“i don’t know... i was just thinking, you know?”
you stare at him blankly because no, you didn’t know. you don’t get what’s going on at all.
you can see discomfort makes its way onto sunghoon’s face, his hand coming up to rub his neck awkwardly, “we should take a break,”
“a break or break up?” you ask, “they’re different things,”
you fully move away from him, pulling your legs from out of the covers, sitting as far away from him as you can. you stare at the floor as you wait for his response. he’s silent for too long and you can feel your heart sink to your stomach.
“break up, i guess. we can still be friends, though,” he reaches forward to grab your hand but you pull away, “i don’t want to lose you, yn,”
there’s a lot of things you want to say to say to him; that you can’t be friends, that he’s stupid for thinking that you would be fine with it. you want to tell him that you’re mad at him beyond belief for doing this out of nowhere. he could’ve at least broken up with you when you weren’t laying in his bed. 
you don’t say any of these things, though. instead you nod, giving him a forced smile, “okay. if that’s what you want,”
“i’m really—”
you interrupt him before he can give you that dreaded apology, “i’m gonna go, i probably shouldn’t stay the night like we planned,”
you crawl out of bed, your feet landing on his carpeted floor. your back is to him and you hope and pray that he can’t hear the sharp breath slip from your mouth, keeping yourself from bursting out sobbing. you blink quickly, forcing your tears away and move around his room to grab your things.
“you don’t have to leave, it’s late,”
“it’s fine, hoon,” it’s not fine, “night,”
“okay.. text me when you get home?”
“yeah, sure.”
sunghoon is an idiot.
he's an idiot that you’re still friends with.
it’s been five months since the breakup and you’re still friends. you don’t want to be friends, but your desire to keep him in your life overpowers that. giselle and winter have both been telling you to move on, to cut him out of your life.
every single one of your friends can see how awful this is for you, especially with sunghoon still acting like he’s your boyfriend. it’s like nothing has changed between you two if you ignore the fact that you aren’t officially together anymore.
he even goes as far as to tell you about girls that he finds attractive. does he not know not to tell you stuff like? he doesn’t. he doesn’t get how horrible and heartbreaking it is for you to hear. having to sit there and hear him call other girls pretty is worse than anything you’ve ever had to experience, you think.
so after urging from both giselle and winter, you ghost him on the sixth month after your breakup. you don’t go to any of your previously planned hangouts (you give him some half-assed excuse about being ‘too busy’ when really you were just staying home and eating ice cream), you stop responding to his messages and eventually he stops sending them.
and you write about it.
you’ve written songs about him before, as embarrassing as it is to admit, but it’s how you express your feelings. the only difference is that they were love songs; songs about you pining over the boy, how you felt during your relationship, all of the good things about him. you’ve never written anything bad, not even during your first big argument.
you admittedly feel better after you’ve written everything down, but you also feel.. guilty. it’s like you’re making it a bigger deal than it is. it’s not like he cheated on you or neglected you or whatever other awful thing other songwriters have written about. he just broke up with you and tried to stay friends.
you eventually get over that guilt, thankfully. you know that you’re allowed to be upset and it’s not like he’s ever going to hear it. you’re sure he’s forgotten all about you already. maybe he even has a new girlfriend.
you try not to throw up at that thought.
you end up making a demo, send it to your agency, and it gets produced. after a month of promotion and teasers, it releases on the ninth of april. exactly one year after your break up. it blows up, much to your surprise—you weren’t necessarily a big artist but you weren’t super small, having around 840k monthly listeners but you weren’t expecting to make the billboard hot 100.
honestly, you should’ve expected sunghoon to find out about the song, but you weren’t. and needless to say, you were absolutely horrified when he sent you a message for the first time in half a year.
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