#forgive me for my sins i am but a lover of dangerous women

[snowbirds-and-snakelets]

is this a safe space to say that my problematic crush was never coriolanus but dr gaul or should that have stayed in the drafts. she’s captivating and cruel and godawful and for some reason that appeals to me. evil scientists are my fucking kryptonite

[bamsywrites]

Guilt (Tyrion Lannister x Reader)

paring: Tyrion x Reader; Tywin x Reader

summary: Tyrion is consumed with guilt as he sees just how his actions have affected you

word count: idk but sure as fuck not 13.k Idk where I got that number from 🤦

tags: pregnant! reader, mentions of miscarriage/infant loss, pretty fucking huge age gaps mentioned. tywin doing tywin things. angsty with some hurt/comfort. there's a lot of plot building as i want to attempt to make this into a series. pining. future friends to lovers.

AN: this is my first time writing in a loooong fucking time. I am open to constructive criticism and feedback. I have plans on making this into a series so let me know if that would interest you. this scenario has been in my maladaptive daydreams for so long lol. Please let me know how you like it!

--

Tyrion watched you from his spot overlooking the river where the women were doing the washing for the day. An older woman was showing you the best methods for getting stains out from the fabrics of sheets and clothes, you watched with a furrowed brow and genuine curiosity from your seat on a large boulder. Tyrion had noticed this was a new behavior trend of yours. You'd go to the kitchens, the stables, the rivers, all to try and lend a hand or learn. Your noble birth made it so you never had to wash your clothes or clean your rooms or make your food. He'd observed that since arriving in Mereen, you almost seemed to be trying to repent of the sin of being born a noblewoman by doing the chores and duties of those most would consider beneath someone of your birth. Not that you ever thought that way.

Tyrion's eyes drifted down to your swollen belly which you were stroking softly as you watched the woman and he scoffed with a quick swig from a flask of whatever wine he was able to get his hands on. You were nearing the end of your pregnancy, evident by your size and the waddle to which you walked. Dany had been accommodating to your state by having someone around to assist you if need be and keeping a midwife on standby for the impending birth. The queen had been more forgiving than he could have hoped for when it came to the two of you. You had given a rather convincing speech when you had arrived after fleeing Kings Landing. He could still hear the words ring in his mind.

"Your Majesty, I was but a child when your father was overthrown and family murdered. I was a child still when I was betrothed. No choice in my life has ever been my own. I was sold like cattle to the highest bidder and forced to have his children so he could in turn ship them away and form alliances with lords and kings. Everything I have done has been to protect me and my children. All I ever will do is to protect my children. I want them to live a life better than mine and from what I have seen here you would be able to provide that more than any man in Westores currently fighting for the throne. For that, you will have my loyalty."

It was well-spoken and you stood tall while you said it, but he could see the fear in your eyes. How could he blame you? A pregnant woman far from home in the territory of someone who wanted her dead simply because of who she was forced to marry. Staying in the Red Keep wouldn't have bode well for you either, his sister had never been fond of you and with the death of his father, the castle suddenly became very dangerous for you.

Tyrion understood why Tywin wanted to make an alliance with your house. Your father was lord of a southern house that was known for its impressive feats on the field of battle, no one had ever defeated House ____ on the battlefield and most were met with devastating defeats when they were on horseback. The best tacticians Westores had ever seen either came from your house or were mentored by the lords of your house. Tywin wanted that alliance and he was always looking to further his family line but Jamie had made vows and Tywin would rather die than give Tyrion any claim to Casterly Rock. That left him to marry you, which he did. You were young. Very young. He remembered how scared you looked on your wedding day as his father covered you in a robe of Lannister Red.

You'd done your duty as a wife very well. 6 years since your wedding to his father and you'd had several pregnancies and two living children - daughters much to Tywins dismay. You bore him a son named Tytos but he fell asleep one night never to wake again. Tyrion remembered that day very well, he walked into the hall to see his father holding you as you sobbed, pressing a kiss to your head and looking as vulnerable as Tyrion had ever seen him. Tywin always seemed to respect you and held some possessiveness over the fact that you were his lady wife. You were spoiled by him as was expected, always in the finest dresses and jewelry. Tywin made an example of anyone who dared to disrespect you, even if that person was the boy king himself. He seemed to value your intellect and wit, finding bragging rights in your brains and beauty. A fact that drove Ceresi mad. Though Tyrion supposed, the way Tywin treats your daughters was an even bigger slight to the Queen Regent.

Trysta and Nataria.

Tywin doted on them more than he did you. It was made known behind closed doors that Tywin would keep putting babes in your belly until you gave him an "heir and a spare" but there was a light to his eyes when his youngest daughters were around that made it known he cared for them too. There was an affection there that Tyrion did not remember his father showing Ceresi or Jamie as children. A fact confirmed by the jealousy his sister had for the two young girls, Jamie had never made a comment on it but he enjoyed the company of your daughters very much.

They were very sweet girls, with your eyes but the signature Lannister hair. Trysta was the eldest at five years old, she was smart and sassy, a combination that always brought a smile to Tyrion's face. There was nothing like watching a noble lord be put in their place by a small girl in a pink dress, knowing that they dare not comment back for fear of facing her father's wrath. Nataria was younger, still not quite speaking in full sentences yet, and always wanting to be picked up by anyone who would take her. Tyrion would never forget walking into the tower of the hand to see her sat on Tywins lap with her head nuzzled into his chest as she napped. Tywin informed Tyrion that the babe you were carrying was making you ill and the handmaids were unable to get her to stop crying. He didn't look up from the papers scattered across his desk and his voice was as stern and emotionless as it always was. It was almost alien to see it, to see how much Tywin was capable of some form of care for his children. Tywin often made the comment that his first three children were disappointments and that he was going to make sure his next turned out differently.

You had made the smart choice to send the two girls to stay with your family after Jofferys murder. Kings Landing was not safe for them and both girls adored Tyrion. You had not wanted them to witness his trial or execution or to be brought into the middle of dangerous court politics. You probably would have joined them if Tywin had allowed it. Tyrion was sad he never got to say goodbye to them. He loved them as much as they loved him, always reading books or buying trinkets for them. He missed them dearly but knew you missed them more.

Especially today. It was Nataria's second name day.

Tyrion was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your laugh as you watched the children play in the water and their splashes of water soaking your dress and hair. He noticed that your laugh didn't quite reach your eyes and the guilt panged through him.

It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault.

You were distracting yourself, he realized, from the pain of what today meant. The pain of not being with your children. The pain of not knowing when you will see them again. He couldn't imagine the pain in your heart. Almost like you knew what he was thinking, your eyes locked with his and he gave you a curt nod before standing and heading away from the river.

---

Later that night he saw you again, sat in the gardens of a courtyard lit by the stars, and a few torches spread over the area. There was a piece of parchment paper in your lap and your fingers were playing with a necklace around your neck. Tyrion noticed your beauty in the light of the stars. The way the flames from the torches flicked across your features. He always knew you were beautiful but it was dawning on him that you were more than beautiful. He sometimes found the air leaving his lungs if the light hit you right. The sound of your laugh, your voice, when he heard you sing it was like the whole world stood still. It wasn't fair, he thought, that someone as kind and smart and witty as you could also be so beautiful.

The sound of a muffled sob brought him out of his thoughts and he felt that searing guilt tear threw him once more.

It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault.

His feet moved him through the courtyard and he sat next to you in silence. You quickly wiped at your eyes and shoved the paper, what Tyrion could now see was an old letter from your father about how your daughters were doing, into your dress. The two sat in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say. You'd always treated Tyrion with such respect and kindness and he'd returned the favor to you. You never let Tywin taint your view of him.

"You've been avoiding me," your voice cut through the silence.

It was true. He hadn't spoken more than a few sentences since defending you to the Queen when you were brought to her throne room. "And yet you have been watching my every move."

He nodded, eyes fixated on a particular patch of grass in the courtyard. "Always observant aren't you?" His voice was soft.

"You'd think someone of your size would be better at hiding but alas....."

Your comment made him laugh. The first laugh in a long time.

"Spying is not my strong suit, I must admit. Drinking, books, and whores are my real talents." His eyes traveled over to you and he noticed your small smile.

Your smile shouldn't cause him to feel the way he was.

The two of you sat in silence for a long while after that. It wasn't an awkward silence, neither of you seemed to know how to get the thoughts flowing through your head to form into words. There was so much to say, so much to explain. You broke first.

"I miss them," Your voice wavered and your lip trembled. "I miss them so. It feels as though my heart has been ripped out of my chest." The tears started to fall all at once, Tyrion swore he could hear them hit the ground like rain.

It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault

"Every time the babe inside me moves, I remember how it felt to feel them move too. I think of them from the moment I wake to the moment I sleep and then I dream of them. Are they happy? Are they safe? Where are they? When will I see them?" You rambled through the thickness of your tears, your fingers gripping tightly at the fabric of your dress.

Tyrion hesitantly grabbed your hand in his, afraid you'd hurt yourself and gave it a small squeeze.

"Your sister...Oh, your sister...she hates them. She hates me. She'll have them killed. I can't...I can't.." you choked on sob after sob

He said your name softly and moved to stand in front of you so he could look into your eyes. The tears falling down your cheeks and hitting the skirt of your dress broke his heart.

It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault

"Ceresi is many things. A hateful bitch is among one of her most prominent attributes. But, she is not stupid enough to wage war on your family. Her hatred for me consumes her. Last I heard they think I kidnapped you." He almost laughed bitterly at the thought. Remembering how he rushed you out of The Red Keep, it wasn't too far from the truth. "And despite even with all of that aside. Do you think Jamie would let her? Let her kill your children? Our sisters?" In truth, he had no idea what would happen but he had to hope. He had to have faith that his choice wouldn't lead to the fatalities of you and your daughters.

Your arms quickly wrapped around him and your face nuzzled into his neck. For a moment he just stood there in shock, this was the closest you'd ever been to him and he found himself enamored with how you smelt and soft you felt. But soon he ran his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. Tyrion could feel your hot tears on his shoulder and the mantra repeated in his head.

It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault.

"I'm so fucking sorry," He whispered into your hair. "I'm so sorry."

You pulled away and he found himself missing your warmth. He told himself it was because he wasn't used to such interaction, which wasn't a lie, but there was a stirring deep within him that he had to push down and hide. That would only bring him more shame and heartbreak and insult you further than he already has.

"All my life, my father hated me for killing my mother and for being a dwarf. He loathed my very existence. The only thing that kept me alive was my name. I was a Lannister. And then he lets me be led like a lamb to slaughter for a murder he knew I didn't commit. My only option is death or going to The Wall, there's not much difference there as people seem to think. He takes the woman I love and turns her against me, having her lie to all of Kings Landing. And then I find he's fucking her..." Tears were starting to well in his eyes now as he remembered Shae and how it felt to find her in his father's bed. "I didn't think about the consequences. Not for you or the girls until after it was done."

He remembered how the lamp light flickered across your face as you stood there, hand on your belly and mouth agape as he held the crossbow. He remembered how it felt to have the realization slap him in the face. Tywin had become fond of using you to belittle Cerasi, often saying you were more worthy to be a Lannister than she was. Cerasi was jealous of how Tywin seemed to care for and respect you. You wouldn't last long at The Red Keep. Tyrion remembered the scared look in your eyes as he took your wrist in a harsh grasp and led you through the corridors to where he was to meet Varys.

He was pulled from his memories when he could feel your fingertips lightly brush away his tears. "It's my fault," Tyrion's voice broke as he said those words to you, "and I can never express how sorry I am."

You swallowed thickly and looked at him for a moment before your eyes drifted up to the night sky. You were quiet again and this time the silence was thick and heavy. Tyrion could see your brain working hard to formulate thoughts and feelings into words.

"I was 15 when I was betrothed to Tywin," You said softly, your eyes still on the stars. "My father was so excited. The Lannisters would make a great ally and I was the only daughter he had to offer. For two years I waited, knowing that I was to be married to a man who rode into battle with my grandfather. It was the day after my 17th name day that we were wed. Within a year I had Trysta." Your tongue peaked out to wet your lips. "Tywin was not a moral man. He was not a good man. He was a smart man. An ambitious man. But not a good one. I know he respected me, I think he may have cared for me in his own complicated way. I know he cared for our children. But he was old and mean and arrogant."

Tyrion was silent as you spoke, you two had talked in the past for hours about books and history but you never quite opened up about your relationship with his father. Your eyes fell down to your lap and you picked at a loose string.

"I may be cursed for thinking it but I do not miss him. I miss my home. I miss Casterly Rock. I miss the sea and the beach. I miss Trysta and Nataria. But I do not miss Tywin. I am not naive enough to think that I will ever experience what it's like to be loved...to marry for love. That's not a reality for high-born women but I do hope the next time I'm married off it's to someone who is less of an ass."

Tyrion stood there for a moment and then took your face into his hands, "I promise you by whatever Gods are listening that I will get you back home. Back to your children. Or I will die trying." And he meant it.

You simply nodded. He took his seat next to you, his hand resting atop yours. The two of you sat there in a peaceful silence looking at the stars with his hand on yours and you weren't sure how long for. It could have been 15 minutes or two hours. When Tyrion noticed your head starting to bob and your eyes struggled to stay open, he stood up and silently offered you his arm.

The walk to your room was quiet. He had more he wanted to say to you but he knew this was not the time to say it. Once he got to your door he didn't know what to say, he didn't know if he should say anything. He cleared his throat and rested his arm at his side.

"If you, uhm, if you need me...." His voice trailed off.

"I know," you nodded, "thank you." You placed a soft kiss on his forehead before disappearing into your room.

Tyrion stood there for a moment, frustration rushing over him like waves. It was happening. He could feel the feeling creep into his heart: he was falling in love with the woman he widowed and he wasn't sure how to stop it.

[wisp-of-thought]

peonies & pomegranates: when eve meets persephone

Persephone meets Eve standing at the edge of the underworld

A fist full of soil

Persephone says,

Hello there

Eve says,

I thought

I might be able to see them

In the end,

Again.

Her hands unfurl and

Let the dirt fall

You smell like them

Do

You

Know?

You smell like the flowers

Left behind

In Eden.

And Eve turns to look at her then.

And it has been many centuries

For them both

But

Persephone recognizes the never fading gleam,

The twinkle in her eye

Birthed only from

The glazing nectar of

Forbidden fruit.

A mirror reflection

Of herself.

Two women who chose to

Give in

Honour

Their hunger

In hopes of a moments reprieve

From being devoured by their own

Longing.

Persephone says,

You must be

Eve

Eve flitches at her own name.

Merely says

Nothing grows here

And Persephone understands

Her heartbreak

Says

No.

I am sorry.

And Eve flinches at that too.

Breathes,

No

Whispers,

No more

Apologies

Here.

I have lived a life time of

Repentance.

And I

Am done with

All this

Asking for forgiveness

For things we are not to blame for.

For things we are not sorry for.

Persephone

Still scented with Eden’s greenery says

I know

And Eve looks at her with

More ache

Than doubt.

Let’s the goddess assure her

That

You do not have

To be sorry anymore

Here.

And she takes the woman's hand in hers.

Smeared with the kingdoms

Dirt.

A handful of miniscule stones

Ground to sand.

Caught beneath her nails.

Persephone can feel

Life rolling off the

Girl

In gentle waves.

Even here,

After,

She ought to have been

Drained.

As though

The only way to

Take her

Had been instead,

To drown her

Completely

In the sea of

Existance.

And she

Was still

Dripping.

I did not want

To go back

To a gilded cage.

Even if the bars were wound

In vines

And blossoms.

I just

Missed

The flowers.

Persephone sits with her

At the edge of the underworld.

Says

I know

And Eve

Is tired of a lifetime of

Biting her tongue.

What do you know

Of wanting

Persephone?

A Queendom in Spring.

A kingdom come fall.

A million miles below the ground,

When the frost strikes.

Do you know what it is like to be

Cold

Persephone?

To be exiled?

To be

Unwanted?

And it is Eve.

No malice and all

Curiosity.

And Persephone wishes

She could give her

The answers

She needs to be

At peace.

I know

Much of wanting

And the unwanting.

Persephone looks

Up

To

The ground

Above

They blame me

For the plague of

Cold and barren land

And Eve knows too

Well

They blame me

For the plague of

A lifetime of repentance

And Persephone knows too

Well

For paying the price

Of my spent desire.

And their contempt

Drips

Acidic

Into the soil

Eve picks at the dirt

Beneath her nails

As though

She can feel

The burning.

And replies

As though to say

How dare you want,

Woman,

More than what we have

Permitted you to have.

Don't be

Selfish

Persephone finishes for

Her

Own heart and fists

Twisting

Curling

Into themselves.

And Eve

Goes on.

As though to say

How dare you disobey

What you were told to be.

How dare you

Attempt to become

More

Than we have let you

Be.

Eve looks at Persephone then

And it has been many centuries

For them both

But

Eve recognizes the never fading gleam

The twinkle in her eye

Birthed only from

The glazing nectar of

Forbidden fruit

A mirror reflection

Of herself.

I was only

Hungry

Says Eve

I know

Says Persephone

And I did not know

What could stifle

My appetite.

I did not know

What I craved.

Just that

I was starving.

And that

Nothing

Was

Enough.

And he came to you

In your instability

And they both know this story

By heart.

And he said

Eat, love

If you would like

Only

If you would like

And he dropped it into your palms

And she can almost feel the weight in her hands.

Where it once rested,

Before it was digested,

And left for her to carry

In the pit of herself

For eternity.

And it smelt of sweet possibility

Eve inhales.

Though breath means

Nothing here.

But she does it anyways

For the sake of

Nostalgia.

And he gave you a fruit

And I brought it to my own lips

And he gave you a choice

And I laid it on my own tongue

Peresphone watches her

Mirror

Knowingly.

And you chose

To bite

To swallow

The consequences.

And it hangs between them.

Tangible.

Ripe.

And ready

To fall.

The culmination

Of two seeded

Choices

And it

Drops

Into

Persephone's lap

Persephone's palms

Persephone's mouth

And you would do it again

And the fruit always looks deceptively

Delectable

But the nectar

Of the truth

Is always

Bitter

And Eve cups her hands below

The goddesses chin

And lets the golden syrup

Accumulate

And

Sips

Yes

I would

Do it

Again

And they do not need to speak

To say:

If I was given the chance

The choice

To save myself

Again

I would do it

I would take it

Over

And

Over

And

Over

Again.

Because

I do not think

I could ever

Be sorry

For being

Hungry

And eating

Until

I was full

And Persephone

Nods

Understanding

The all consuming nature of

The desire to

Know.

I do not think

I could ever

Be sorry

For choosing to live

Over

Survive.

I was never

Sorry

Even when

They punished me for

Knowing

For wanting

For being something other than

A good girl

A docile daughter

And Eve laughs

And Persephone is struck

By how much the

Sound tastes of

Fresh bloom.

Have they ever met

Mother Nature

She is

No

Soft

Or

Submissive

Thing

And Persephone smiles then too

And Eve is struck

By how much the

Image looks like

The creation of

A universe.

My mother

Warned me

Her breath is breeze after

Rainfall

To be wary of bitter men

And their sweet offerings

Her gaze is an ocean

Rippling reflection

And my mother said

It is a dangerous game to play

Persephone

She is

The symphony

Of life.

And my father said,

Listen to me, Eve

And my mother said

Come home to me

Persephone

Or their will be consequences

You belong here

In the sun

In the garden

In my gaze

In my grasp

And they both

Know this story

By heart.

Muscle memory

Fear

Hate

Rage

Longing

Stillness.

And I thought,

I belong wherever

I please.

And I thought

I deserve

To know.

I thought

I will not be afraid

Of the dark.

I thought

I deserve

To eat.

I thought

I will not bow to death.

And Eve is looking at

Persephone.

And the reflection

Is cracking.

And instead

He lowered his brow

To brush his lips

Across your knuckles.

And Persephone is looking at

Eve

And the reflection

Is shattering.

And instead

He bent a knee for me.

The glass is

Falling.

I do not know

What that is like.

I do not think

He loves me

Anymore.

And the silence

Aches for them both

How do you

Know?

And Eve

Considers this.

The quiet

Holds her

Softly.

I do not think I know

What love ought to be.

I do not think

The tree

Taught me

This.

And Persephone

Picks up

The shards,

Dew drops of light

Healing the image

Into a make shift

Mosaic.

Hands still gentle

When they brush away

Her doubt.

Love

Is

The way

The truth

Made itself

Soft

And

Sweet

For you,

Love.

Love

Is

The way

You choose

It

And

It Chose

You.

And Eve is

Not staring

At a mirror

She is gazing

At

The entirety

Of the universe

At once.

And the truth is

My lover

My sin

My salvation

That I was not

Naive

Or

Ignorant

Or

Victim

To a man's

Deception

And when I committed the

Transgression

Of

Making a choice

That was wholly my own

I did not beg to be kept

To be released

I walked out of

Paradise

With my head held high

Bid farewell to the

Light

And entered

The shadows

Let the gates shut behind me

And I left

And I stayed

And it was

My

Choice

And it is

In Persphone’s arms

That Eve learns

For the first time

Of what it is like

To be held

Other than as

Grudge

Or

Guilt.

And Eve

Is embraced by the universe

Until

At last

She knows

e v e r y t h i n g

[cruisingthedemimonde]

America’s Gay Men in WW2

World War Two was a “National Coming Out” for queer Americans.

I don’t think any other event in history changed the lives of so many of us since Rome became Christian. 

For European queers the war brought tragedy.

The queer movement began in Germany in the 1860s when trans activist Karl Ulrichs spoke before the courts to repeal Anti-Sodomy laws. From his first act of bravery the movement grew and by the 1920s Berlin had more gay bars than Manhattan did in the 1980s. Magnus Hirschfeld’s “Scientific Humanitarian Committee” fought valiantly in politics for LGBT rights and performed the first gender affirmation surgeries. They were a century ahead of the rest of the world.

The Nazis made Hirschfeld - Socialist, Homosexual and Jew - public enemy number one.

The famous image of the Nazis burning books? Those were the books of the Scientific Humanitarian Committee. Case studies of the first openly queer Europeans, histories, diaries - the first treasure trove of our history was destroyed that day.

100,000 of us were charged with felonies. As many as 15,000 were sent to the camps, about 60% were murdered.

But in America the war brought liberation.

In a country where most people never even heard the word “homosexual” , historian John D’emilio wrote the war was “conducive both to the articulation of  a homosexual identity and to the more rapid evolution of a gay subculture. (24)” The war years were “a Watershed (Eaklor 68)”

Now before we begin I need to give a caveat. The focus of this first post is not lesbians, transfolk or others in our community. Those stories have additional complexity the story of cisgender homosexual men does not. Starting with gay men lets me begin in the simplest way I can, in subsequent posts I’ll look at the rest of our community.

Twilight Aristocracy: Being Queer Before the War

I want us to go back in time and imagine the life of the typical queer American before the war. Odds are you lived on a farm and simply accepted the basic fact that you would marry and raise children as surely as you were born or would die. You would have never seen someone Out or Proud. If you did see your sexuality or gender in contrary ways you had no words to express it, odds are even your doctor had never heard the term “Homosexual. In your mind it was just a quirk, without a name or possible expression.

In the city the “Twilight Aristocracy” lived hidden, on the margins and exposed their queerness only in the most coded ways. Gay men “Dropping pins” with a handkerchief in a specific pocket. Butch women with key chains heavy enough to show she didn’t need a man to carry anything for her. A secret language of “Jockers” and “Nances” “Playing Checkers” during a night out. There is a really good article on the queer vernacular here

And these were “Lovers in a Dangerous Time.”

In public one must act as straight as possible. Two people of the same gender dancing could be prosecuted. Cross dressing, even with something as trivial as a woman wearing pants, would run afoul of obscenity laws.

The only spaces we had for ourselves were dive bars, run by organized crime. But even then one must be sure to be circumspect, and act straight. Anyone could be an undercover cop. If a gaze was held to long, or lovers kissed in a corner the bar would be raided. Police saw us as worthy candidates for abuse so beatings were common and the judge would do all he could to humiliate you.

Now Michael Foucault, the big swinging french dick of queer theory, laid out this whole theory about how the real policing in a society happens inside our heads. Ideas about sin, shame, normalcy, mental illness can all be made to control people, and the Twilight Aristocracy was no different.

While cruising a park at night, or settled on the sofa with a lifelong lover, the thoughts of Priests and Doctors haunted them. “Am I living in Sin? Am I someone God could love?” “Is this healthy? Have I gone mad? Is this a true love or a medical condition which requires cure?”

There was no voice in America yet healing our self doubt, or demanding the world accept us as we are. And that voice, the socialist Harry Hay, did not come during the war, but it would come shortly after directly because of it.

Johnny Get Your Gun… And are you now or ever been a Homosexual?

For the first time in their lives millions of young men crossed thousands of miles from their home to the front.

But before they made that brave journey they had another, unexpected and often torturous journey. The one across the doctor’s office at a recruiting station.

In the nineteenth century queerness moved from an act, “Forgive me Father I have sinned, I kissed another man” to something you are, “The homosexual subspecies can be identified by certain physical and psychological signs.” 

These were the glory days of patriarchy and white supremacy, those who transgressed the line between masculine and feminine called the whole culture into question. So doctors obsessed themselves with queerness, its origins, its signs, its so called catastrophic racial consequences and its cure.

“Are you a homosexual?” doctors asked stunned recruits. 

If you were closeted but patriotic, you would of course deny the accusation. But the doctor would continue his examination by checking if you were a “Real Man.”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Did you like playing sports as a kid?”

If you passed that, the doctor would often try and trip you up by asking about your culture.

“Do you ever go basketeering?” he would ask, remembering to check if there was any lisp or effeminacy in your voice.

Finally if the doctor felt like it he could examine your body to see if you were a member of the homosexual subspecies. 

Your gag reflex would be tested with a tongue depressor. Another hole could be carefully examined as well.

Humiliating enough for a straight man. But for a gay recruit the consequences could be life threatening.

Medical authorities knew homosexuals were weak, criminal and mad. To place them among the troops would weaken unit cohesion at the very least, result in treachery at the worst. In civilian life doctors had much the same thing to say. 

The recruit needed a cure. And a doctor was always ready. With talk therapy, hypnosis, drugs, electroshock and forced surgeries of the worst kinds there was always a cure ready at hand.

Thankfully the doctors were not successful in their task, one doctor wrote “for every homosexual who was referred or came to the Medical Department, there  were five or ten who never were detected. (d’Emilio 25)”

Here’s the irony though, by asking such pointed and direct questions to people closeted to themselves it forced them to confront their sexuality for the first time. 

Hegarty writes, “As a result of the screening policies, homosexuality became part of wartime discourse. Questions about homosexual desire and behavior ensured that every man inducted into the armed forces had to confront the possibility of homosexual feelings or experiences. This was a kind of massive public education about homosexuality. Despite—and be-cause of—the attempts to eliminate homosexuals from the military, men with same-sex desires learned that there were many people like themselves (Hegarty 180)”

And then it gave them a golden opportunity to have fun.

The 101st Airborn - Homosocial and Homosexual

“Homosocial” refers to a gender segregated space. And they were often havens for gay men. The YMCA for example really was a place for young gay men to meet.

Now the government was already aware of the kind of scandalous sexual behaviour young men can get up to when left to themselves. Two major government programs before the war, the Federal Transient Program and the Civilian Conservation Corps focused on unattached young men, but over time these spaces became highly suspect and the focus shifted to helping family men so as to avoid giving government aid to ‘sexual perversion’ in these homosocial spaces.

But with the war on there was no choice but to put hundreds of thousands of young men in their own world. All male boot camps, all male bases, all male front lines. 

The emotional intensity broke down the barriers between men and the strict enforcement of gendered norms.

On the front the men had no girlfriend, wife or mother to confide in. The soldier’s body was strong and heroic but also fragile. Straight men held each other in foxholes and shared their emotional vulnerability to each other. Gender lines began to blur as straight men danced together in bars an action that would result in arrest in many American cities.

Bronski writes, “Men were now more able to be emotional, express their feelings, and even cry. The stereotypical “strong, silent type,” quintessentially heterosexual, that had characterized the American Man had been replaced with a new, sensitive man who had many of the qualities of the homosexual male. (Bronski 152)”

Homosexual men discovered in this environment new freedoms to get close to one another without arousing suspicion.

“Though the military  officially maintained an anti-homosexual stance, wartime conditions nonetheless offered a protective covering that facilitated interaction  among gay men (d’Emilio 26)”

Bob Ruffing, a chief petty officer in the Navy described this freedom as follows, ‘When I first got into the navy—in the recreation hall, for instance— there’d be  eye contact, and pretty soon you’d get to know one or two people and kept branching out. All of a sudden you had a vast network of friends, usually through  this eye contact thing, some through outright cruising. They could get away with  it in that atmosphere. (d’Emilio 26) ”

Another wrote about their experience serving in the navy in San Diego, “‘Oh, these are more my kind of people.’ We became very chummy, quite close, very fraternal, very protective of each other. (Hegarty 180)”

Some spaces within the army became queer as well. The USO put on shows for soldiers, and since they could not find women to play parts, the men often dressed in drag. “impersonation. For actors and audiences, these performances were a needed relief from the stress of war. For men who identified as homosexual, these shows were a place where they could, in coded terms, express their sexual desires, be visible, and build a community. (Bronski 148)”

“Here you see three lovely “girls”

 With their plastic shapes and curls.

 Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?

 We’ve got glamour and that’s no lie;

 Can’t you tell when we swish by?

 Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?”

The words camp and swish being used in the gay subculture and connected to effeminate gay men.

I would have to assume, more than a few transwomen gravitated to these spaces as well.

Even the battlefield itself provided opportunities for gay fraternization. A beach in Guam for example became a secret just for the gay troops, they called it Purple Beach Number 2, after a perfume brand.

This homoerotic space was not confined to the military, but spilled out into civilian life as well.

Donald Vining was a pacifist who stated bluntly his homosexuality to the recruitment board as his mother needed his work earnings, and if you wanted be a conscientious objector you had to apply to go to an objector’s camp. He became something of a soldier chaser, working in the local YMCA and volunteering at the soldier’s canteen in New York he hooked up with soldiers still closeted for a night of passion but many more who were open about who they were. 

After the war he was left with a network of gay friends and a strong sense of belonging to a community. It was dangerous tho, he was victim of robberies he could not report because they happened during hook ups, but police were always ready to raid gay bars when they were bored. “It was obvious that [the police] just had to make a few arrests to look busy,” he protested in his diary.  “It was a travesty of justice and the workings of the police department (d’Emilio 30).״

Now it might seem odd he was able to plug into a community like that, but over the war underground gay bars appeared across the country for their new clientele. Even the isolated Worcester Mass got a gay bar.

African American men, barred from combat on the front lines, were not entirely barred from the gay subculture in the cities. For example in Harlem the jazz bar Lucky Rendevous was reported in Ebony as whites and blacks “steeped in the swish jargon of its many lavender costumers. (Bronski 149)”

The Other War: Facing Homophobia

“For homosexual soldiers, induction into the military forced a sudden confrontation with their sexuality that highlighted the stigma attached to it and kept  it  a  matter  of special  concern (d’Emilio 25)”

“They were fighting two wars: one for America, democracy, and freedom; the other for their own survival as homosexuals within the military organization. (Eaklor 68)”

Once they were in, they fell under Article 125 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice: “Any person subject to this chapter who engages in unnatural carnal copulation with another person of the same or opposite sex or with an animal is guilty of sodomy. Penetration, however slight, is sufficient to complete the offense.”

Penalties could include five years hard labour, forced institutionalization or fall under the dreaded Section 8 discharge, a stamp of mental instability that would prevent you from finding meaningful employment in civilian life.

Even if one wanted nothing to do with fulfilling their desires it was still essential to become hyper aware of your presentation and behaviour in order to avoid suspicion.

Coming Home to Gay Ghettos

“The veterans of World War II were the first generation of gay men and women to experience such rapid, dramatic, and widespread changes in their lives as homosexuals. Bronski 154”

After the war many queer servicemen went on to live conventionally heterosexual lives. But many more returned to a much queerer life stateside.

Bob Ruffing would settle down in San Francisco. The city has always been a safe harbour for queer Americans, made more so as ex servicemen gravitated to its liberated atmosphere. The port cities of New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles became the prime destinations to settle. Vining’s partner joined him in New York, where they both immersed themselves in the gay culture.

Other soldiers moved to specific neighborhoods known for having small gay communities. San Francisco’s North Beach, the west side of Boston’s Beacon Hill, or New York’s Greenwich Village. Following the war the gay populations of these cities increased dramatically.

The cities offered parks, coffee houses and bars which became queer spaces. And drag performance, music and comedy became features of this culture.

These veterans also founded organizations just for the queer soldiers. In Los Angeles the Knights of the Clock provided a space for same sex inter racial couples. In New York the Veterans Benevolent Association would often see 400-500 homosexuals appear at its events.

A number of books bluntly explored homosexuality following the war, such as The Invisible Glass which tells the story of an inter racial couple in Italy, 

“With a slight moan Chick rolled onto his left side, toward the Lieutenant. His finger sought those of the officer’s as they entwined their legs. Their faces met. The breaths, smelling sweet from wine, came in heavy drawn sighs. La Cava grasped the soldier by his waist and drew him tightly to his body. His mouth pressed down until he felt Chick’s lips part. For a moment they lay quietly, holding one another with strained arms.”

Others like Gore Vidal’s The City and the Pillar (1948), Fritz Peters’s The World Next Door (1949), and James Barr’s Quatrefoil (1950) explored similar themes.

In 1948 the Kinsey Report would create a public firestorm by arguing that homosexuality is shockingly common. In 1950 The Mattachine Society, a secretive group of homosexual Stalinists launched America’s LGBT movement.

References:

Michael Bronski “A Queer History of the United States”

John D’emilio “Coming Out Under Fire”

Vivki L Eaklor “Queer America: A GLBT History of America”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Lesbians

In 1947 General Eisenhower told a purple heart winning Sargeant Johhnie Phelps, “It's come to my attention that there are lesbians in the WACs, we need to ferret them out”.

Phelps replied, “"If the General pleases, sir, I'll be happy to do that, but the first name on the list will be mine."

Eisenhower’s secretary added “"If the General pleases, sir, my name will be first and hers will be second."

Join me again May 17 to hear the story of America’s Lesbians during the war.

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Alright, everyone, this is a personal post as much as it’s a public post so feel free to scroll all the way down to the  colored text for the public part of the message but if you, like me, enjoy drama, then continue on!

So, to make a very, very, very long story short for those who don’t know, I call my birth mother Mother Gothel due to her emotionally abusive upbringing of me that caused me to suffer from severe depression, anxiety, and even hair loss! A few years ago, back in 2016, my friend-turned-sister drove down with her mother, packed me and my bags up, and gave me a place to live and start over where I’ve been able to get jobs, go to school, and become much healthier than I used to be! 

During those years of growth and recovery, however, I kept in contact with Gothel through emails and the occasional phone call. Over the years, from the safety of being hundreds of miles away, I told her that I was gay and dating a girl. The resulting emails were not pleasant and she had no problems about calling my girlfriend a whore. Lovely, right? 

Every email she has sent me has contained detailed bible quotes and scripture and needles of guilt over everything I’m doing “wrong.” She’s still “so proud of me,” however. So at least there’s that, right? 

As of recently I emailed her and told her that I will be attending a four-year university in Tacoma Washington (moving away from Illinois) to continue my education. Her resulting email was lengthy. Here is some of it - cut for length.

Hi Michelle.

... 

You have to watch everything you say this day and time, at least that is what Jesus said in the Book of Matthew 5:37-- "Let your Yes be Yes, and let your No be No. Anything else is from the evil one." (anotherwords the devil will take your words you speak and trip and mess you up land you in jail or prison for 10 yrs)That would be really sad after you work so hard for an education and degrees then let him mess you up but read in John 10:10--the enemy comes to steal--kill--destroy--but Jesus said I have come so that you may have life and have it more abundantly.  That is why Jesus said in Proverbs 18:21" Life and death are in the power of the tongue"

...

I was telling Mom on the phone just this morning we talked for two hours-- that I was going to get a restaurant job here as soon as possible and let it move me out of here--I am moveing to Battle Creek or Marshall by Sept (labor day) and that I was sooo excited that I would finally get to see you, she said either her or Carl would drive me to [REDACTED] every now and then to see you. So Yes, I feel like a bomb was just dropped on me, my heart is broken, however I hope you will be happy and I wish you well in body and spirit-- I wish you nothing but the best. Just know one thing is for sure, I read my Bible and I will tell you right now, we are living in our last days you need to be concerned about where you are going to spend eternity. I just finished up reading the book of Matthew. In Matthew 21:25 The Heading Reads: "The Coming of the Son of Man" vs 25- And their will be signs in the Sun, the Moon, the Stars--mens hearts will fail them for fear and the expectation of those things which are coming on the earth, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. vs 27--THEN they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with Power and Great Glory. Now when these things begin to happen, look up and list up your heads, because your redemption draws near". Jesus said He would give us signs in the Heavens above and the earth beaneath. All of the earthquakes that have been happening for the last decade leading up to the Austrailian wildfires, and billions of animals died, God is giving us the signs, its just like He said in Matthew 24:36-44. 

Lastly, 1 Thessalonians 4 :13--But I do not want you to be ignorant brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God wil bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus. For this we say to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord will by no means precede those who are asleep. For the Lord Himself will descend from Heaven With A SHOUT--with the voice of an archangel, and with the Trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rist first. Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with the Lord, Therefore Comfort one another with these words.

After the Rapture, then comes the tribulation. I have read Revelation many times and to say the least you don't want to be left behind.  In Heaven their will be 30 mins of silence that is when all Hell breaks loose down here. Just whatever you do, Do NOT take the mark of the beast if you do, then you will mark your soul for eternal damnation. Then you will hear the devil say----"Hello! Welcome to Hell!

I am saying all of this bcuz now you have a choice to live for God or for Satan. If something should happen to your body or God forbid but if someone tries to take your life or you get in an accident and your heart is not right with God--That is exactly how you will stand at the Judgement Bar. The minute you take your last breath in this body, you will be ushered into the presence of God then it is too late to make a decision there it is if the Angel does not find your name in the Book of Life, then the devil stands there waiting to escourt you to------Well lets just say---You Don't want to go there. But the Bible says you will answer for every deed done in the body good and bad.I know one thing, it can't be too much longer according to scripture. The greatest tool the enemy uses from his toolbox is that you have plenty of time--well I can say the devil is a liar cuz Jesus just says--Be Ready it is not up to us how long we get to stay down here, that is God's calling.Second Timothy 3----But know this, that in the last days perilous times will come. For men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, unloving, unforgiving, slanderers, without self-control, brutal, despisers of good, traitors, headstrong, haughty, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having a form of godliness but denying its power. And from such people turn away! For of this sort are those who creep into households and make captives of gullible women loaded down with sins, led away by various lusts, always learning and never able to come to the knowledge of truth. 

Sister, we are living in our last days, make every day that God gives you breath in your body count bcuz you don't know when it will be your last day. There is pleasure in sin for a season--Hebrews 11:24. Whatever you do, don't let the devil take your life and your soul, it is not worth it.

Love You So Much and want to make sure your soul doesn't go to H---.  I am praying that you will have a preacher as a husband.I miss you Michelle, I miss hugging you, I miss walking up those stairs to bring your meals to you I would LOVE to hug you just one more time. That may or may not happen before He Returns ony God knows this.Please write me back when you can, you are always on my heart and mind. I have made mistakes while we were all living at 2414, I am so very sorry I pray that you forgive me if I have offended you please forgive me, I thought I had it all together. But now I see, I was just messed up and made lots of wrong choices, but God came along with His Holy broom and cleaned up my mess and said to move on. I am so glad when He forgives our sins, He forgets never no more to be remembered. All I can say is ---Thank-you Jesus.

...

Love You Forever my dearest Daughter and Friend.

This is the average email from her and I’ve been told that it’s not normal to receive emails this long talking about how she’s ‘devastated’ by my choices and how the world is going to end in hellfire soon. Please allow me, however, to show the email she immediately sent after the above.

[T]acoma is Washington's most dangerous city, with a violent crime rate of 953 incidents per 100,000 residents. While this is a relatively high rate — the 96th worst in the country — the city's incidence of property crime stands out even more. ... Indeed, the city had the country's 15th highest property crime rate in 2016

The overall crime rate in Tacoma is 138% higher than the national average. For every 100,000 people, there are 16.81 daily crimes that occur in Tacoma. Tacoma is safer than 3% of the cities in the United States. In Tacoma you have a 1 in 17 chance of becoming a victim of any crime.

Have you done the research for this city?They said Tacoma is the most violent city in Washington,I love you and want you to be happy. There are sooo many universities with the same opportunities.

How would you get around, does your friend drive? I did see how beautiful the area is but you just have to be careful I guess everywhere you go. 

As you can see, she immediately invalidates my choice - something I was very truly wonderfully excited about - and sends me a message that triggers my anxiety. I should note that she did not allow me out of the house without her even when I was an adult and over 18. If I went somewhere she had to be there with me.

Ah, but now we come to today and the email that spurred this post to creation. The above emails were sent two days ago and I have yet to respond. The email below was sent just today. 

Hi Michelle.

While I cannot apologize for what I said, It was not my intention to offend you in any way. I just went to google and typed in most dangerous city in the state of Washington and Tacoma popped up, that is out of 100 cities in the state.Okay, I know you say you have been there and all and you are no match for all of the evil there. God forbid, should something happen to you--you would be just another name and another number to them there is no much evil there they can't control it, I say to you just watch on a daily basis all of the crime that goes on in that sin city.

You better be praying about this cuz I don't think God would want you to put yourself in harms way--make a wiser choice, and God will bless you for it.Look at what happened to kobe bryant incident.... they met a very bad situation face to face and of course their was no way they could turn that around. My whole point of conversation.....sure you can do what you want bcuz you are an adult grown woman, but I would strongly advise you to pray to God about it and make a wise choice here, your life and future depends on right choices you make now.

What about University of Michigan in Ann Arbor or East Lansing University, Michigan University Kalamazoo, they are on the ten universities in Michigan. You need to reconsider your decision and think about your resourses you can get more help from family  bcuz I have all kinds of family up there and I will be up there soon. You are no match for Tacoma Washington. I only say this bcuz you are my daughter and I don't want something really bad come out of this just bcuz you are trying to get an education behind you--this calls for wise decisions.

You may never speak to me again, but I just want to inform you that you need to be very very cautious here.

Love You Forever.

... 

“You may never speak to me again.” 

...

This is the last email I have read from her and it will remain the last email I will ever read from her. I also will not be sending her any emails ever again because you know what? 

Her scared, anxious daughter Michelle Jean Anderson died and I’m what’s left - and I’m sick of her shit. 

So, hello, everybody! My name is Andy Alex Anderson and my pronouns are he/him (or they/them if you panic and forget) and it’s a pleasure to meet you! 

[madewithbangtan]

Bts gif reaction, demon au.

Genre: fluff

(credits to gif owners)

This may be the last reaction that I move over from my old account to this one. I’ll start writing new reactions soon, so I’ll need people to request some stuff. I can not guarantee that I’ll get to all of them but still.

Rm:

Rm tried so hard to never let you see his true form, he didn’t like the fact that you may leave him if you knew he was such a hideous creature. Even then he still loved you, he didn’t care if you’d be disgusted by him. Although this could be called a form of betrayal, he wanted to feel you and see you for just a bit longer, he knew sooner or later he’d be found, that sooner couldn’t have come any faster. Rm had spotted another demon on earth, he had the duty to send them back to hell, you were both out for a little lunch together, and when he suddenly left without saying anything to you, you followed him, when you saw him rip into a form of something dark, fear wrapped around you.

He seemed to be fighting something that looked similar to him, but darker, you were sure he won, but you couldn’t tell when he turned back into a human form and limped and fell, your love for him made you worry, without thinking twice you ran towards him, kneeling down next to him, you lifted his head up and cuddled him, you didn’t know what he was, or what he could do to you, but you felt his sincerity when he said he loved you.

Rm: “Y/n? You saw, didn’t you? Why are you still here?” You looked down at him, no longer fearing for your life, but for his,

Y/N: “Because I love you, you big dummy, now be quiet, I’ll punish you later for not telling me about this but for now, shhhh”

Jin:

When Jin left the apartment he had just fought with you, you were sure that he was cheating on you by the way he wouldn’t ever come home. You followed right behind him, your heart half broke when he met up with a woman. Still, you followed them you needed some type of conclusion. Your thought of sadness soon turned into confusion, when the women started to talk about you, and how you couldn’t find out, “I can’t find out about what?” You asked yourself and then you heard her say,

Woman: “You have to leave her and go back, they’re all waiting for your return, stop being so stubborn”

You were confused and hurt, why was he trying to leave you, and why was he actually leaving you at the very minute, you walked out from your covers, hurt and in pain,

Y/N: “Jin? Where are you going?” Jin’s eyes widened, larger than it ever had, he was surprised.

Jin: “Y/n? What are you doing here? You can’t be here, go home and forget about me, please”

You stared at him, with tears running down, you shook your head and walked next to him.

Y/N: “No, please don’t leave me, I’ll die here without you.” Jin hated it when you cried, so he pulled you into a hug and asked if you’d love him no matter what he was.

Jin: “Y/n would you love me, even if I’m not really who you think I am” you watched as his eyes went from a hazel light to a dark black, fear fell over your body for a split second but you didn’t care, you hugged him and whispered.

Y/N: “No matter what you are, I can’t live without you here, I’ll die without you here, please don’t leave me all alone”

Suga:

Yoongi was sent to earth as a punishment, he would never be able to fall in love or be happy. His duties here were to keep the peace between human and heaven, it’s funny how demons are the balance and heaven can’t help themselves. He thought he was going crazy when he fell in love with you, he felt like he was in heaven for the split second that he was with you, he knew he couldn’t put you in danger. You couldn’t understand why he wanted to break up with you, he was trying to leave you before you were bound to him forever, you fell to the ground and pleaded him,

Y/N: “Don’t leave me, please, don’t break up with me, I’ll do anything, please” he lifted you up, his heart breaking as much as yours were,

Suga: “It’s not you, this sounds so classic, but it’s really not you, please don’t break like this because of someone like me” You looked at him confused,

Y/N: “What do you mean someone like you, you're the only one I need, the only person I want” he closed his eyes and sighed, he shook his head side to side.

Suga: “I’m not the person that you think I am, I’m not someone you should love, so please just leave me”

You turned around, sobbing, you didn’t want to look back, Suga was starting to fall back into his demon forms, his love for you starting to kill him, you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t leave him. You turned around and almost screamed out in shock, Suga was almost fully turned, but you didn’t care, he looked so scary and this did fear you, but you’d rather die with him than without him. You ran into his embrace, Yoongi froze completely, he didn’t know what to do, but he felt your heart beating slowly, but also really quickly being bound to him, he couldn’t stop you or himself anymore. 

Y/N: “I told you, I won’t ever leave you if this is the reason, I don’t want to leave, I’d rather die with you than without you”

Jhope:

You always thought that if Hobi wasn’t a human then he’d be an angel or something very happy and gentle. He knew that you had a small idea that he wasn’t really human, but you never questioned him once, he was too afraid to tell you, but also didn’t want to know what your reaction would be, anyone would fear losing their lover because of who they are. Demons can not stay in human form without changing back to their demon form at least once a month. You walked into your bedroom and found Hobi in bed curled up in pain, he was a dark creature, the complete opposite to his personality, you froze scared of what could happen to you. But when you saw him balling even more Just in complete pain, you couldn’t help but feel pain yourself, you walked towards him and cuddled into him, back hugging him and holding onto his waist rubbing up and down trying to make him feel better, before you knew it, his wings disappeared and he was back to being human.

Hobi: “Y/n you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, I can sense your hesitation” you shook your head, and turned Hobi around,

Y/N: “If it’s not you, I don’t want to live, or love, you look beautiful, how did you suffer by yourself, I had no idea, I’m such a bad girlfriend, will you forgive me?” He smiled.

Hobi: “I’d never be able to hate you, and don’t you think it’s weird for me to forgive you, I’m the one that needs forgiving, but if loving you is still a sin, I can commit it over and over again”

Jimin:

Jimin has always been so open with you that you were sure he wasn’t keeping anything from you, but when a demons time to mate comes along, you become more uneasy and needy like a human, but the problem was, that he’d need to tell you what he was in order to get his release, the need for his release, became way too much. His eyes were completely black and Just in sooo much need, he saw you walking into the bedroom and sitting beside him, you looked at him frozen, you didn’t know what to do, you were now sure that he wasn’t a human, you were now sure that he was something dark, but the thought of leaving him, pained you more than the possibility of you dying. So instead of hesitating and confusing everyone, you kissed him, He didn’t know whether to return it or stay still, so you deepened it, you needed some sort of response from him.

Jimin: “Y/n I don’t think it’s a good idea to kiss a demon that’s really needy, I need to mate right now and you're not helping,”

Y/N: “Then maybe I could help, I love you.”

V:

You knew that Taehyungs past was one that he didn’t like talking about, he avoided that topic at all cost, at this point you didn’t know anything about him, anyone would want to know everything that someone could know about someone they love, but he just wouldn’t open up.

Y/N: “Oppa, you still haven’t told me where your from, or when your birthday is, or even what you like and dislike”

He froze not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do or how to say that he was a literal demon, 

V: “I, I don’t have a birthday, I've never had one and possibly never will, I like you well I love you and dislike the idea of possibly losing you, I’m from…” he couldn’t bring himself to say where he was from, how do you tell someone that your from hell, how do you tell someone that you were just sent here as punishment.

Y/N: “See, your hiding from me. Again, where could you be from that makes you this hesitant, it can’t be that bad, can’t you just let me in?”

He looked down, defeated, he knew this was possibly the only chance to tell you the truth.

V: “I’m from… I’m from hell…”

you looked at him, and slightly laughed, not believing him, but when you saw the expression on his face, and his eyes turning black, you held onto his face and smiled, and placed a light kiss on his lips.

Y/N: “It’s funny that you're from hell, because your the only thing in this life that I can call my heaven, I love you, you weirdo” 

You pinched his nose and placed a final kiss on his cheeks before Getting up to order dinner.

Jungkook:

You and Jungkook were playing 2 lies and 1 truth, when it got back to his turn he said.

“1) I’m 41 2) I'm a demon that could possibly kill you, 3) I was born in California”

You looked at him confused.

Y/N: “Jungkook it’s 2 lies and a truth, you literally just told me 3 lies, “

Kookie: “But I didn’t, just guess” you looked at him with the look of confusion.

Y/N: “Fine, number 2, it seems the most normal” he looked frozen, he stayed still for what seemed like an eternity he then cuddled into you. Naturally, your hands reached up to his hair and started playing with it.

Kookie: “Will you y/n still love me if I’m a demon, that has committed a grave sin?” You’d never ever seen him so serious before.

Y/N: “Jungkook it’s not funny stop, your not a demon, let’s play something else”

Jungkook looked at you, he didn’t want to keep such a big secret from you any longer.

Kookie: “Look into my eyes, do I still look like a human?”

Not a single trace of fear left you, you just nodded, usually when he says that, the human should see a demon, a scary one that even scared himself, but you just cuddled into him more and kissed his hands while saying.

Y/N: “I don’t care what you really are, all I know is that your my angel and that’s all I care about, you and I, nothing more or less, and I know that you won’t ever harm me”

I think that was very fluffy.

[loyalflutist]

My Call to You (F!Byleth x Dorothea)

Challenge: Bylethea Week 2019 (Twitter) Day 2: Song

A/N: hi, have some pain. just... don’t try to come and kill me, please. 

-----

Reckless was Byleth’s middle name, and it was a middle name Dorothea resented.

Flames singed their sullied clothes and many soldiers exchanged blows in the background. Battle cries echoed into the dark, smoky sky like blaring trumpets. The two females, alongside Edelgard, Caspar, Ingrid, and Linhardt, faced the Immaculate One. Their weapons were all drawn out and battle position ready, the bruises, lacerations, and debris splattered on parts of their fatigued figures.

Caspar, Ingrid, and Byleth were burdened with injuries that require immediate attention, the blood dripping from their head and arms. Linhardt and Dorothea were bruised and exhausted from tumbling and exerting a large amount of white magic to their allies, their sweats stinging the small gashes on their skin. Edelgard miraculously stood the healthiest out of the six. Then again, not only did she have the entire Black Eagles Strike Squad to protect her, her role as the emperor of the Adrestian Empire emphasized the importance of her survival.

Byleth righted the Sword of Creator, Ingrid swung her lance downward, and Caspar raised his crimson-stained fists. Restoration magic was cast once more from the healers with a swift motion of their arm, a bright green light emitted from the three warriors. Linhardt immediately fell on all four to catch his breath. Dorothea stumbled backward and was caught by Hubert. The dark magus in his black robe gently held her upright as he quietly nodded to the vermillion noble. Edelgard stepped forward with her axed relic and joined by Ingrid’s side.

A roar boomed from the pale dragon, her teeth threatening to sear them in half. If anything, she would want to trample on Edelgard, who had ruined her plan, and tear out the Crest of Seiros from Byleth’s chest, who had crushed her hopes. The Immaculate One’s tail wildly swung left and right, another roar bellowed.

“You humans betrayed us!” she screamed. “You will pay for your sins!”

Edelgard pointed her ax at the large creature. “I think it’s time we end this once and for all. Your corruption must end now!”

The question of whether she was correct with her presumption or not is up for debate. None of that matters now as the six members engaged in the last heated battle against their ultimate foe. Taking the Immaculate One down meant ending the dreaded war for good.

“Dorothea!” The calling of her name prompted the magician to glance upward. Sylvain flew from above with his wyvern and hovered next to her and Hubert. “Are you okay? You look like you need some help.”

She weakly scoffed. “Am I okay? Of course, I’m not, Sylvain. I feel like collapsing any minute now!”

“Yikes… Guess I shouldn’t have asked the obvious,” The red-head began to dig into his pouch and pulled out a vulnerary. “Here, use this.”

Hubert caught the tossed item and presented it to the weak female. Sylvain then motioned a farewell to his two allies and flew away. He had other comrades to tend to. After all, most everyone, aside from Dimitri, Dedue, Claude, and Hilda, had been recruited under the Adrestian Empire’s flag. That was all thanks to none other than Byleth.

Dorothea drank the bitter substance. If it weren’t for her good friend supporting her, she would have spat it out the instant it touches her tongue. Her facial features contorted as she chucked the container aside.

“No wonder why Byleth begs me to heal her instead of drink this medicine. It tastes horrible!”

“Unfortunately, we need you back into the game. We can’t afford to have you drag us back.”

“You’ve always had a sharp tongue, Hubie.”

He shrugged, released his hold on Dorothea, and pulled out another vulnerary. “I’m speaking the truth. Victory for Lady Edelgard might slip through her fingers if one of us becomes a burden.” A popping sound was heard from the bottle, Hubert’s hues darkening. “I won’t allow that to happen, especially in this battle.”

The young man took his leave and focused his attention on the other healer. Dorothea was left to her own device once again. She felt her shoulders slump and a sigh escapes her, but only for a brief moment. They were at war and they were in a battle. Anything could happen and Dorothea had to be ready. The opera singer balled her hands into fists. She frowned and ran back into the fray with six other fighters.

“Watch out!”

Edelgard’s warning was a tad too late as Caspar was smacked with the dragon’s tail. He barely managed to vocalize his shock from the impact. Its massive weight and dangerous speed threatened to shatter the poor man’s skeletal system! The blue-haired knight soon flew out of their vision. An audible crash was heard from the distant, bits of dirt and bricks flying into the air. Dorothea glanced over her shoulder. Caspar was too far away for her to see how he’s doing… but she spotted Mercedes and Lysithea running in his direction. She bit the bottom of her lip and returned her attention to their current objective.

“You’ll pay for that!” Ingrid reeled her dominant arm back, the relic brightening its glow. “Begone!”

She tried to stab the dragon’s belly. The powerful blade plunged into the huge beast, an uproar occurring. Ingrid pulled it out and twirled the device at hand. She made another attempt to stab the Immaculate One. Right behind the golden knight was the emperor leaping above her. Arms pulled backward, Edelgard delivered a smashing hit with her relic into the creature’s armored chest. It doubled the damages and it was breaking her.

A painful wail filled the air as the dragon thrashed. The frantic movements caused Ingrid to lose her grip on her weapon. It was a huge mistake on her end, the Immaculate One’s claws shredding right into the warrior’s abdomen. Magma-red substance soaked the chainmail and shattered armor as the blonde female cried out.

“INGRID!”

Edelgard rushed to her guardian knight and barely caught her from crashing onto the rough pavements. The mixture of anguish and exhaustion painted the noble’s features. A quick examination of the fallen warrior said plenty about her status. Ingrid needs to be treated now. Edelgard grits her teeth and carried Ingrid away from the scene. She quickly shot a shout towards Byleth and Dorothea before escaping.

“I leave it up to you both! Try to hold on until I come back!”

Byleth and Dorothea nodded. Then, side-by-side, they glanced at each other. Sweat gleamed on their faces, their eyes burning with a fiery passion to end this war. They didn’t utter a word. Instead, the two women readied their offensive stance. The Immaculate One roared and slammed her limbs onto the cracked grounds. She was heavily injured thanks to Caspar, Ingrid, and Edelgard’s efforts. It won’t take long until the dragon finally falls for good. Now, it’s up to Byleth and Dorothea to finish it off… or at least whittle her health down until Edelgard arrives with backup.

“You—!” their enemy snarled, her eyes sharply aimed at Dorothea. “You took her away from me!”

Ironically, it wasn’t Edelgard that caused Byleth to betray Lady Rhea. It was actually Dorothea. Ever since they were engaged in a romantic relationship since Dorothea was a student, Byleth vowed to always be by her lover’s side no matter what. Even if it meant going against the Church of Seiros and rejecting everyone around her… It’s all for the sake of Dorothea’s happiness. Siding with Edelgard was simply an act of friendship and the following of Dorothea’s decision. (Dorothea would never want to abandon her best friend, Edelgard!) Besides, the added bonus to staying with the Adrestian Empire was from learning about the corruption and lies the church was built on. Byleth could never forgive them for such crimes.

“You speak as if I’m a kidnapper,” Dorothea shook her head. A ball of white light began to formulate on the palm of her hand as she pointed it to the dragon. “I think you need a reality check. She belongs to me now, Immaculate One!”

A hot ray of beam struck the large beast. At the same time, Byleth ran forward at an incredible speed, the power of the progenitor god bearing fruit. She raised the Sword of Creator high in the air, jumped into the air, and allowed momentum to slam the blade onto the dragon’s head.

Or so she thought. Dorothea stared in pure horror as the relic landed by her side, its tip digging into the concrete earth. Her girlfriend was caught in the dragon’s mouth with a single snap of her jaw. The opera singer and the tactician had clearly miscalculated their move sets. In this game of chess, they had not expected their opponent to make use of their mouth, quite literally.

“NO!” Dorothea immediately started forming a red magic circle mid-air. She didn’t care if she was going to run out of energy by the end of this cast. She didn’t care if the nerves in her body start to fry from overuse. She didn’t care if she becomes a handicap after this battle. She didn’t even care if she died in place of Byleth. Dorothea needed to save her girlfriend! She can’t lose her again! Anything but that! “LET HER GO, YOU MONSTER!”

Excruciating burns bubbled from within the brown-haired female's nerves as she sent out numerous spells. Fire, thunder, meteors… She threw everything at the Immaculate One. Yet that dragon kept her jaw locked on the struggling professor. Tears naturally flowed from Byleth’s eyes as the sharp teeth dug into her sturdy body, the armors and chainmail barely preventing them from piercing her vital organs. Rhea’s eyes narrowed as she loosened her jaw to talk.

“I will take back Mother from you, you thief!”

The burdens of casting so many spells are starting to do more harm than good to Dorothea. She felt her knees buckle once lightning shot out of her palms. Dorothea nearly fell on all four, her strong will preventing her from doing so. She stared up at the pale beast. Compared to her size, the enormous size can easily squash her underneath her feet. Rhea’s wings flapped once, blowing a strong gust of wind at the opera singer’s direction, causing Dorothea to weakly raise her arms.

“I think it’s time we end this, Dorothea,” the dragon proclaimed. “And I think it’s time we end this war.”

She was just about to firmly close her jaw on Byleth when Felix and Annette came into the picture. The powerful sword-wielder swung his two weapons in a flurry. Though the strikes were normally ineffective against the dragon, Felix was no ordinary guy. His attacks were bolstered by his major Crest and it packed a punch for every successful contact. This caused the creature to drop Byleth and howl in agony. As for Annette, she approached Dorothea, concern scrawled on her face.

“You shouldn’t be pushing so hard,” Annette scolded and proceeded to heal her comrade. “You’ll lose the ability to use magic if you keep this up!”

Dorothea nearly laughed once most of her strength had revitalized. “I’m willing to risk it if it meant saving my girlfriend.”

“…I suppose I could share the same sentiment for Felix.”

The magus accepted Annette’s helping hand and got back up to her feet. Soon, the duo was joined by Ignatz and Raphael, with Raphael recovering their instructor from danger. He presented the bloodied female to the group.

“Is… Is she going to be okay?” he asked, voice somewhat shaky.

Ignatz closely examined their teacher. That bite did a number on the poor woman. Many crimson holes scattered about on her figure based on the teeth’s locations. The injuries were minimized to a degree thanks to the tough attires. If it weren’t for that… Then… Ignatz mentally shook his head. No point in thinking about that now. He had to save their professor. Not saying another word, he quickly began to cast a couple of healing spells on the still body.

Dorothea never left her sight on Byleth. She was down onto her knees once more, her hands grabbing ahold of her lover’s hand. “Don’t you dare leave me like this, you hear that? I won’t forgive you if you do.”

“…I won’t.”

Byleth’s eyelids fluttered open. The neon-haired ended up staring at Dorothea, to which Dorothea nuzzled into the injured woman’s held hand. Tears of relief flowed down her face as Ignatz straightened his posture and let out a loud exhale. Raphael grinned at his boyfriend knowing that he had just saved their professor. The two got up from the ground, bid their farewells to the two, and resumed their battle as support for their other allies. This left Dorothea alone with Byleth.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered to Byleth. “It would kill me if I were to lose you.”

In the background, Felix was soon joined by Edelgard, Sylvain, Ferdinand, and Hubert. The five of them dealt the final attack onto the dragon. A gruesome screech emitted from the Immaculate One, her head thrown up into the air. Then, the creature fell onto her side, never to rise again. Yet despite the end of the conflict and the cheers Felix and Sylvain had by slapping a friendly high-five, there was a cost to pay, and it was one Dorothea did not wish to happen.

The Crest of Seiros disappeared from Byleth’s heart. However, it acted as a pacemaker for the originally still-born child. Byleth faintly gasped, her eyes widen, then immediately fell into a sea of darkness. At the same time, her hair color resumed to its original state, leaving the ex-mercenary in a state as if she never merged with Sothis. The only difference was that her heart stopped beating.

“Byleth…?” Dorothea felt a knot in her stomach. She stiffened her lips and pressed her ear against Byleth’s chest. Once she noticed no sign of life, the tears flowed down her cheeks… this time, with sorrow. “Byleth…!”

She pulled her girlfriend up so she could hug her. The instructor weightlessly flopped forward and into Dorothea, her face buried into the woman’s shoulder. How ironic... After expressing how grateful she was with Byleth's survival, it completely turned around and bit her back with the opposite result.

‘ How could this be…? I’ve already lost her once five years ago… Now I’m going to lose her again? ‘

This hurts.

‘ No, NO! That’s not right! ‘

Dorothea felt her lower lip tremble.

‘ Impossible! Ignatz had healed her! What could be wrong?! Don’t tell me it had something to do with her Crest…! ‘

She held back her outcries.

‘ This isn’t fair! She doesn’t deserve this! If anything, I should be the one to die! ‘

Quiet weeps were muffled when Dorothea pressed her face into Byleth’s head, trying to provide as much warmth as possible in her embrace. From the distant, everyone, especially Hubert and Edelgard, felt their heartaches. So, it seems that they had lost someone important… War is so very cruel. They couldn’t imagine how much pain Dorothea is going through right now. If they felt like someone sucker punched them in the gut, then the poor woman was probably going through that tenfold. Dorothea slowly rocked her limp lover as if she were in a deep sleep.

Then, a song was sung.

“I feel like I’m losing hope

In my body and my soul

And the sky, it looks so ominous.

And as time comes to a halt

Silence starts to overflow

My cries are inconspicuous

Tell me, God, are you punishing me?

Is this the price I’m paying for my past mistakes?”

There was a small pause, Dorothea retracting her face so she could watch over Byleth’s. Droplets of tears fell upon the older woman’s face as she struggled to sing the last two lines to her lover.

“I need you more than ever right now

Can you hear me now?”

Is this song a way to cope with the surreal event? Is it out of desperation?

Dorothea leaned forward to kiss the professor's forehead.

“…good-night, my Byleth.”

It appears that this is farewell. The time that they've spent together was full of good memories. They would be priceless treasures that no one would be able to replace nor replicate. Dorothea dryly swallowed. Hopefully, she’ll see her again soon… and hopefully, it won't be a long wait to see Byleth up there.

Right when Dorothea was going to lower her girlfriend down to the ground, there was a faint groan that slipped past the female’s cracked lips. The magus froze. She glanced down and saw her teacher stirring. By the time Byleth awakens, she found herself nearly crushed to death in a bear hug by the alumni, the chest pain from the frail, now-beating heart, worsening it.

“D-Dorothea—!” she barely squeaked. “I can’t— breathe—!”

Dorothea quickly released her hold, but not without giving her one heck of a kiss in their lifetime, the kiss yearning for love and confirmation that this isn’t a dream. She could choose to scold Byleth. She could choose to bawl. She could choose to express frustration. Instead, the young singer cupped Byleth’s face, and whispered, “I’m glad you didn’t leave me behind. I wouldn't know what to do without you.”

“I would never,” the professor soon rested her upper body against Dorothea. “Besides, you were calling out for me. I had to come back to you.”

"?"

Eventually, Dorothea put two-and-two together. The song that she had sung had ultimately saved Byleth's life.

[galadrieljones]

A Funeral: Chapter 9

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2 | Pairing: Arthur x Mary Beth | Rating: Mature

Content: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Fake Marriage, Epiphanies, Backstory, Banter, Deep Emotions, Sharing a Bed, Swimming, Arthur to the Rescue, Forests, Abduction, Angst, Heavy Angst, Mutual Pining

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. In their desperate search for meaning together, they endure a number of trials, some small, some big—all of which bring them closer to one another as well as to the future, and to the unchecked dangers of the natural world.

Thanks @bearly-tolerable for the lovely banner!! <3

For the rest of this story, you can visit the masterpost, linked directly in the menu at my blog, or find me at AO3 as galadrieljones. ^_^

Chapter 9: The Polar Bear

He had let her kiss him. She didn’t know. It took all her breath and made her very weak. She had thought about kissing him a million times. Who hadn’t? Living in a camp full of unwashed cowboys, always grimacing. Going into town where the men were either perfumed and entitled or stinking of pig shit to high hell. Arthur was the cute one, his fair hair flipping out behind his ears, kind blue eyes with the crinkles, always with a flower in his hat, writing while sitting under a tupelo tree, smoking, chewing a reed. Chopping firewood for the camp. He lit her cigarettes, popped the caps off her beer bottles, gave her his hand, danced with her at the parties. It is easy to want to kiss this kind of boy.

But actually kissing him was much different. He wasn’t a boy. He was a man, and tender, like he knew it. Mary Beth was still a little young, and she didn’t quite get it yet, but the thing about a good man is, as he gets older, he gets softer. He just loses that bluster, the immediacy, that thing that once let him think he knew everything, that which guarded him from the world’s trials and tribulations. As a good man ages, he has less to prove, less petty errands to hang onto in the way of his pride. Sure that pride is still there and it’s tiresome, and it’s heavy. It’s harder to lift. But it’s not angry anymore. It just is. The underbelly to all this is that, by the time a man reaches Arthur’s age, while he is still open to the possibility of the future, many of the old sad things from his life and his past have already cemented themselves into the faraway basements of his heart and soul. There is no starting over, not really. They will always be there.

But Mary Beth was sage to this, at least a little, even if she didn’t know it. If living in a camp full of angry, unwashed cowboys had taught her anything, it was how to choose the good men from the bad, the lovers from the fighters, the intelligent from the simple. There were the men who knew themselves as hard men and that was all, and then the men who struggled to parse the ironies of their rough and gruff exteriors from the softness of their own desires. As far as she could tell, the good men of their camp were easy to locate. Charles, Hosea, and Arthur. They were good men. She didn’t know about John yet. She thought he was trying. After Jack disappeared he seemed to change and to quiet into his ways, and he began listening to Arthur. Dutch was lost. She was worried about how lost he had become, and she rightly did not know what to think of him—if he was a good man, it might’ve been buried by now. Lenny was still a boy, as was Kieran, and Sean, too. Sean had died before getting this chance to actualize. The other men of the camp were not necessarily bad. It’s just that they were not what her intuitive heart would have counted as good.

Mary Beth had talked to Sadie about this once, back at Clemens Point, after she’d gone into Rhodes with Arthur and come back, newly dressed and having killed several men. Sadie said to Mary Beth, “Arthur is a good man.” She was shining up her gun, determined. “I couldn’t’ve seen it before, with my head so deep in my grief for Jakey, but now I do. It is a pity he has ended up here, in this waste bin of existence with Dutch and the boys. He deserves more than this. He don’t see me like they do, like a burden. He sees me for what I am and for what I want to be, and for that, I will always be thankful.”

At the time, Mary Beth didn’t think much of it. She was desperately intimidated by Mrs. Sadie Adler. But afterward, she noticed how Sadie and Arthur were friends. And so Mary Beth would chat with her by the morning fire and have coffee sometimes, and she learned that Sadie, while a little scary, was actually very thoughtful, and then Mary Beth began to think about what she had said more carefully. Arthur had opened up to Mary Beth about his fears and trials so many times in that past year especially, particularly after that whole mess in Blackwater, when it seemed the course of their lives had changed forever. She began reaching out to him when he seemed in need of guidance. She noticed he did not open up to very many of the men or women—that included Sadie. He was concerned with maintaining the morale of the camp, and he could not do this if he was showing signs of inner conflict. She sometimes witnessed him and Charles, smoking together by the water, talking something through. Charles was similarly soft beneath his hardness, and he was very kind and protective of the women and also of himself. He carved wonderful animals out of pieces of wood and would give them to little Jack. She wondered if Arthur could carve shapes out of wood. She thought it was something he probably could do but just kept it to himself, a secret.

Now, he was looking at her, but then his eyes were dropping, a little. He was going into a place of thought. He still had his hand in her hair, his thumb tracing the curve of her ear, almost absentminded. He licked his lips and swallowed and then he closed his eyes. She became nervous now. She worried she had broke their friendship, a sin for which she could never forgive herself. And yet, he had kissed her back. It was two-sided, she thought. She had not kissed a man like this maybe ever, in a way that made her want. Boys, sure. And even then, it had been some years. But kissing Arthur made her feel different somehow, responsible and real.

“Arthur?” she said in a little while.

He looked back up, his eyes very soft. He was very vulnerable. “Yes, Mary Beth.”

“What are you thinking?” she said.

He held her hands then, cupped them inside both of his, held them tight. It took him a moment, to gather his thoughts. He cleared his throat. “I am not thinking much, Mary Beth. My brain seems to be malfunctioning at the moment.”

She smiled, and he smiled. “What are you feeling?” she said. This was the better question.

He looked up at her, and he touched her ear again, like he kept going back to it, playing with the hair there, how it tucked behind. Every time he did this, she kind of felt all the nerves in her body zap into existence at the same time. But everything about him was very grounded and settled in that moment. He was neither ecstatic nor distressed. “Like I want you,” he said eventually, very calm and deep, looking at her, then looking down at her hands. “I want you, and it’s railroading me.”

“How so?”

“Because it’s drawing to the surface all these…old wounds,” he said. “It’s hard to talk about. And once again, I am not sure how I should proceed.” Then, it was like he had a thought, he looked up, curious. “What do you want, Mary Beth? What do you see?”

She smiled. Unlike him, she did not feel unsure of how to proceed. “I see you, Arthur,” she said, tucking the hair behind his ears. He seemed comforted by this. “I ain’t a complicated girl. I’m glad I came with you on this trip. I want you, too. You’re a good man.”

He sighed, like he was afraid that was the thing she’d say. He gathered her hands again into his, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking down at their hands together, touching. “I wish I could just…be the thing that you need,” he said, coming apart a little. They’d tipped over some ledge, accidentally. She could feel them going real fast. “Want and need. They’re so different. I really wish, Mary Beth.”

“What do you mean?” she said.

“I ain’t—you don’t wanna be with me,” he said. “I can hear it in your voice. You think it’s something good. You think I’m something else. But you don’t wanna be with me.” He was shaking his head, and then he looked up at her finally. “I promise. I shouldn’t’ve—I shouldn’t’ve kissed you tonight. It don’t matter what I want.”

“Why?” she said. “I don’t understand why what you want don’t matter.”

“Because I will fail,” he said, still looking down at their hands. He had opened up her palms. He was drawing little shapes in her palm with his thumb, even as he said these things. “I’m a wanted man, Mary Beth. I’ll fail. I can’t protect you.”

“All you’ve ever done is protect me,” she said. “And I’m wanted, too, by the way. In at least three locals west of the Mississippi.”

He smiled at this. “I know.”

“I’m just saying.”

“I know.”

“If you could have exactly what you want, right now, what would you choose, Arthur?” she said. She picked up his face so she could look right at him, right into him. “What would it be?”

He seemed confused by the question, like no one had ever asked him what he wanted before. “I don’t know,” he said.

“Yes you do,” she said. “Right now. In this very moment, at Hamish Sinclair’s house in the middle of a proper thunderstorm. The old man is snoring downstairs, and you’re sitting here with me up in this loft, and we just got done with that poem, and we just kissed. Pretend like there’s nothing else. Nothing in the way. Nothing waiting. What would it be?”

He seemed to freeze. So did the whole world. It was very strange, like time casting inward and stopping all of a sudden, everything but the storm. The thunder picked up outside. The rain seemed to be getting stronger, too. You could hear the wind howling through the chimney. For a second she thought a tornado might rip right through the cabin, take them all away into the sky. She had not seen a tornado since her youth in Kansas. But she remembered that they were full of wrath and magnificent.

“Arthur?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“What’ll it be.”

He shook his head, very subtle, like he was dumbfounded. He placed both of his palms on her neck, held her gently behind her ears, searching with his eyes. “I still want you, Mary Beth. I ain’t lying. That ain't what this is.”

“Then take me,” she said, palming his cheeks again, very serious, drawing him. “Take me, Arthur. I want you to."

He blinked rapidly, shook out his head a little. “I can't,” he said.

“Why not?” she said.

He was incredulous. “Because I’ve made mistakes. In the past. Mistakes with women that I could not fix or rectify. I’ve hurt every woman who’s come into my life with my inability to be who she needed me to be. I won’t do that to you, too. I won’t get you pregnant and leave you to suffer my indecency alone. I won’t. I just won’t.”

She felt herself becoming frustrated now, with this. “But I know you,” she said, shaking her head. “You would never do that.”

“I have done that.”

“It ain’t the same. You told me yourself. That was more than ten years ago, and even still it wasn't like that. You know it. And I don’t need you to change, not unless you want to change. That’s not what this is about.”

“That’s always what it’s about, Mary Beth.”

“Well, I want to be with you,” she said, very matter of fact.

“No, you don’t,” he said.

“Don’t tell me what I want, Arthur Morgan. I ain't no child.”

His jaw firmed up. He nodded, resigned, looking like he’d been kicked in the stomach. “I’m sorry. I know.”

She withdrew her hands, hid them in her lap. He seemed to get the message. They weren’t touching anymore. She looked away. She felt like she might cry. Not for his rejection specifically, but because of all this stuff he was saying. She was lost for her words and didn’t wanna argue him no more. The night was full of drama. It had happened very fast. She tried to remind herself of this as she stared down at the elegant stitching of Hamish Sinclair’s late wife’s nightgown, and how it touched her skin so delicately. She closed her eyes then and tried not to be mad at Arthur Morgan.

He sighed. He was shaking his head. “I just—” He stopped himself. “Godammit. I am rightly screwing this up. That ain’t what I want.”

She still wouldn't look at him. She shook her head. She would not cry.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. "Mary Beth. Look at me."

So she did, feeling stupid. She waited on him. She said nothing, her body going limp like a ribbon. He grazed her chin with his thumb, held her face, gentle. He looked so serious, almost full of regret.

“I ain't saying no to you, Mary Beth," he said.

"Then what are you saying?"

"This is very...serious for me," he went on. "I feel a damn fool, but the truth is, I ain’t given myself to no woman in many years. I ain’t even considered—that just ain’t what I do. I am trying to be decent. I am trying to be honorable. I know I'm saying all the wrong things. That seems to be what I do, invariably, but I do not want to hurt you, Mary Beth. That is the last thing I want."

She looked at him. He had so much inside, so much he was carrying around. She didn’t feel sorry for him. Why would she? She looked up to him and she remembered who he was and who she was. She sighed “I understand,” she said, real quiet. In some way, she knew he was right. Moving too fast—that wasn’t the answer to any of their predicaments. Still, it stung a little.

“Thank you,” he said, relieved. “But you don’t have to, Mary Beth. Understand, I mean. You can just say no.”

“Be quiet, Arthur,” she said. It startled him, but in a good way. “I know I can. But I can also wait a little. You don’t need to explain no more right now. It was a bad night. We can sleep on it."

"That sounds good," he said.

"But when you feel like it, remember I'm still your friend. I'm always here to listen. No matter what.”

He smiled at this, seeming crushed by her reassurance. “Let’s go to sleep,” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

She turned the lamp down, left it on just a little. She didn’t want the loft to be full dark. The rain was big and scary. She realized then she was still a little shook from the encounter on the bluff, and with the lights out it rushed to the surface. She kept hearing things. She curled toward him beneath the heavy linen covers. He pushed the hair off her face and smoothed it down the back of her head, and then he just held her, no questions, very strong. She was glad. It was an acknowledgement, no matter how subtle. He wasn’t pretending like they’d never kissed, or like his feelings weren’t real. And her nerves and everything calmed, and she felt his muscles calming around her, which told her that it was all okay. She closed her eyes sometime after he closed his. She fell asleep to his big, even breaths, making her feel safe from harm under the rain.

That night, Arthur had another dream. But it was different this time. Instead of being inside the polar bear, he was in the woods, and he was being hunted. He thought it was the polar bear, but he did not think a polar bear had such lengths of intelligence to hunt him with such a vision of perfection. Everywhere he went to hide, either the ground was sinking underneath him, or the sky was trying to suck him into its endless void. He knew nothing of his life other the fact the was trying to get back to somebody. Somebody was waiting for him. That was all. And it was a gnawing anxiety that made his stomach hurt, and his body burn. Where the hell was he?

He woke up with a start. He sat straight up. He looked around. Mary Beth was asleep beside him, hard asleep, breathing deeply. He looked at her and  then he dropped his face into his hands, because he very much wanted to touch her, just her hair again, put it off her cheeks, go back to holding her like it was all fine. She slept so peacefully. He rubbed his eyes with vigor. His heart was still beating hard. He tried to get up but bumped his head on the ceiling which jerked him out of his half-sleeping confusion and set him right. He swore under his breath and scrubbed the place on his skull where he’d bumped it on the hard wood. Outside, it was still raining, he could hear. But it was calm. The storm had past, and now it was just showers, just water falling from the sky in a steady flow. He exhaled and decided he was thirsty. He climbed past Mary Beth and down the ladder to the kitchen. He turned up the lamp a little bit on the kitchen table, but the hearth was good light down here. He poured a bit of water from a pitcher on the counter into one of the tin mugs Mary Beth had washed in the basin. He sat down at the table and drank the whole cup of water. Then he poured another cup of water, took a long drink and nursed the rest. His face was hanging in his palm. He felt very old, very tired. He was thinking about the dream, about her. His mind was like bees buzzing. His head hurt.

There was stirring then, from behind Hamish’s curtain. Arthur looked up. Hamish himself came out, rubbing his own eyes, hobbling against a sturdy cane. He made eye contact with Arthur and then gave him a canny look, like he was unsurprised. He pushed over to the table, hauled out one of the chairs, and sat down. Then, he gestured toward the basin and let the cane lean against the table top. “Would you grab me one of them mugs?” he said. “I’m properly parched this fine evening.”

“Sure,” said Arthur. He reached without standing, picked up one of the tin mugs off the counter and then set it in front of Hamish.

Hamish poured it full of water, took a drink. Then he sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Goddam liquor,” he said.

“I know the feeling,” said Arthur.

“Sounds like the storm’s letting up,” said Hamish, looking up at the ceiling now. “Good news.”

“Yes it is.”

Hamish drank, scrubbed at his beard. Then he gave Arthur a long look, prying into him a little. “Trouble sleeping?” he said. “I hope the loft ain’t too uncomfortable. I ain’t been up there but to dust in some years.”

“The loft is fine,” said Arthur.

“What’s on your mind?”

Arthur sighed, holding his mug with two hands. “Mary Beth,” he said. He took a drink.

“What’s the problem?”

“She’s—” Arthur hesitated, glanced up to the loft. There was no disturbance. “She’s got some...expectations for me. Took me on a run for my money tonight. I’m used to expectations. But not like hers.”

“What sorts of expectations are you used to?” said Hamish.

“The stressful kind,” said Arthur, smiling in spite of himself. “Do this, do that. And mostly just—to be something I’m not. If that makes sense.”

“Oh, it does.”

“Only I don’t know that I knew too much about what I was before these last few months, and now this hunting trip, with her,” Arthur continued. “It's confusing. Now, I just—she’s up there. Asleep. We’s on uncertain terms. I ain’t seeing things too clear, Hamish. I fear that I am ruining everything.”

Hamish straightened up in his chair, flung one of his arms around the back and sort of hung there. He was thinking something over deep. He drank and set his cup down and continued to scrub at his beard thoughtfully. “What does Mary Beth expect of you?” he said. “Why are her expectations so different?”

“Because,” said Arthur. “She expects me to be…me, I guess. Or something like that. I never had no problems opening up to her. But opening up to myself, that is a whole new journey of indecision. I ain’t—I ain’t loved a woman in a long time. Last time I did, it didn’t work out. Her daddy hated me. Called me a thief, and I am a thief, but he was a whoring, drinking son of a bitch. Gambled away their money, their safety. He called me a thief.” Arthur laughed to himself. “Anyway, she loved me. I loved her. But it was always—she wanted me to change. And maybe I want to change. Maybe so. But the terms she provided, they were impossible. And we fell apart. I left. She married another man. Anyway. What I’m saying is, Mary Beth ain’t like that. She’s a thief, too, if you can believe it. Sweetest outlaw in the west. Only of course, that don’t matter. It don’t matter what she is. She just…is.” He took a deep breath. “I’m lost,” he said. “I don’t know how to be me, for her. Is there anything gotdam stupider than that? A man who don’t know who he is, who only knows how to be put upon by the things he most certainly is not.” He finished his water. He set down the cup and folded his hands on the table.

Hamish had been listening very closely. He was nodding the whole time, and he was still nodding now, taking it all in. He spoke slow now, and with great decision in his voice. “It sounds like you’ve had some difficult times,” he said, “with women.”

“Yes. I have,” he said. “I keep—failing to be the thing they need me to be. They want me. I’m strong. I’m brave. I know my way around a gun. Around the wilderness. But what they need—I can’t provide.”

“What does Mary Beth need?” said Hamish.

Arthur thought on this. He looked down at his knuckles as he so often did because they were complex weavings of past bloodshed. He thought. He thought some more. He had not thought of this. “I don’t know,” he said.

“Well, it sounds like she just needs you,” said Hamish. “Like she needs you to be…whoever you are, or whoever you want to be. You know that ain't unusual, right? You know that’s what love is. It’s needing a person for who they are. Not for what they can do for you, or for how they look, or what material life and provisions they can provide. She followed you here. It sounds like she’s followed you for a while now. Has she ever complained about the life you’ve given her?”

“No,” said Arthur, decisive. “Never.”

“Then what’s the problem?” said Hamish.

Arthur felt his throat tightening, his face feeling hot. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I do,” said Hamish.

“Then what is it?”

“The problem is, there ain’t no problem. For once, there ain’t no problem, and you’re used to solving problems, I reckon, and so now you don’t know what to do. You’re…lost.” He finished his water, poured another cup. “Let me tell you something, Mr. Morgan. If fighting in that god forsaken war taught me anything, it’s that life is short, and it’s mean. It’s ugly business. And if you find someone who you like spending your time with, and who likes spending their time with you, you ought to keep them as close as possible, for as long as possible. It’s the only thing makes life worth living. It don’t matter who they are, what they done. My wife died, and now I am alone, but I am not afraid, because I found someone I truly needed, and I knew it, and I kept her as close as possible for as long as possible. The last thing you want, Mr. Morgan, is to wake up one day, open your door, and find you’ve aged twenty years, and to look around and see no one dear to you. Because then it’s just the long, ugly earth, opening up. One day it’ll swallow you. That part is inevitable. Will you go down knowing you found the thing that you want, that you need most in life, and you held onto it with pride? Or will you go down in regret.” He lit a cigarette from his front pocket. Then, he slid one across the table to Arthur, set down a single match, and smoked. “Those are your only options, Mr. Morgan,” he said, very sure of himself. “Which will you choose?”

[avenger-equalizer-blog]

Who Can Defend the Undefendable?

The names of the men just roll off the tongue: Donald Trump, Harvey & Bob Weinstein, Bill O’Reilly, Bill Cosby, Bill Clinton, Louis CK, Brett Ratner, Kevin Spacey, Ben Affleck, Roy Moore, Al Franken, Charlie Rose, Sylvester Stallone, Steven Seagal, George Takei, John Conyers, Matt Lauer, Garrison Keillor and many others. Men whose celebrity and power are being stripped from them like so much bacon off a gutted pig. Women are coming out of the woodwork to accuse these actors and moguls of harassment, sexual assault and “inappropriate” behavior of a sexual nature, some with underage persons. What does this mean in the battle of the sexes which began with the 60s and 70s sexual revolution and continues today with men being increasingly thought of as “predators” rather than gentlemen? Has something changed in men or is this just the story of women who finally are coming out of the closet to tell it like it is and to target those who have hurt, embarrassed and assaulted them, often many years in the past? The history of power and celebrity and Hollywood was always about dominant male opportunism and female submission. Women were relegated to little better than prostitutes in order to further their careers both in the entertainment industry and the corporate world, limited as it was in female opportunity. The problem I see with women taking vengeance on these male “bottom feeders” is they are creating a war zone which threatens to subsume our culture in a miasma of indecency and spite. Do we want to watch another famous man on the news each night being taken apart at the seams? It reminds me of the TV coverage of the Vietnam War which after a while became a nightly body count, which the public tired of and which helped bring about tremendous anti-war sentiment. Is this public condemnation and humiliation of men the most productive way women can gain power and justice? As a Christian counselor and an advocate for morality, I understand that taking vengeance seems sweet and satisfying, at least at first. Teaching abused young girls that their abuse is “horrible, “heinous”, etc., and that they should seek justice, vengeance, retribution and restitution only heightens the negative effects of the abuse. But remember Jesus words: “Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” (Romans 12:19). Sexual “misconduct” may seem unforgivable and an abuse of power which needs to be rectified, but by who? God will punish men for their myriad sins and lack of repentance. My book states this clearly. The judgment seat of Christ will give everyone what is due them, for “Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.” (Galatians 6:7). I love women and love justice, but I also love mercy and compassion. Sanctimonious women should watch their motives for a power grab is not true morality unless those newly acquiring power do things differently and repent themselves of hatred and spite toward their “fellow man.” Jesus said: “Judge not, and ye shall not be judged: condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned: forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.” (Luke 6:37) These men will be convicted of their sins, but women should forgive these men as their own sins are being forgiven and they (women) are ushered into the Kingdom of Heaven, coming soon. When the woman was caught in adultery, what did Jesus do? Condemn her? Spit on her? Prosecute her? No, he forgave her. “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.” (John 8:7) And Jesus doesn’t want to judge us, though the Father has entrusted judgement to Him who lowered himself to our pathetic level and understood the trials, pain and temptations of the flesh. “Ye judge after the flesh[ego]; I judge no man. And yet if I judge, my judgment is true: for I am not alone, but I and the Father that sent me.” (John 8:15-16) Not that men are justified in their wrongful acts, but they could be. Sexual offenses are actually the product of childhood abuse and neglect, poor parenting, lack of loving role models and the near impossibility of finding love and intimacy in this hellish world. But men have trouble saying their sorry, which is the first step to repentance. Jesus was not easy on those who hurt children, particularly those who do not make amends: “But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.” (Matthew 18:6) Romance is in Critical Condition In any event, does some of this condemnation seem to be a bit ridiculous? Al Franken was accused of “kissing a woman against her will.”! What is the charge, 1st degree affection? It’s absurd. Garrison Keillor, of Prairie Home Companion, was fired by the Minnesota Public Radio because it was said that he “put his hand on a woman's bare back”! A male coach was considered a dangerous predator because he “hugged one of his softball players too long.”! ?? All these serial accusations and condemnations have also had a chilling effect on sexual relations, romance and male/female friendships and work relationships. Women’s egos are not blameless as they are seeking moral superiority in the negative criticisms, judgement and condemnation of men. Our relationships are deteriorating fast and it is certain that in a few decades (assuming the “end times” are delayed) the word “romance” will be taken out of the dictionary (and maybe replaced with “in vitro fertilization”). Heterosexual loving and romantic affection is no longer politically correct. But that’s for another paper. Not to defend the undefendable but men are having a tough time getting any romance from women, assuming they want it sincerely. Prostitution, strip clubs and rampant pornography are symptoms of our increasingly dysfunctional and disastrous relationships. Any sexuality without love is lust and fornication and is absolutely wrong, it’s just a question of who gets the blame. Because of all this, it’s increasingly hard for healthy relationships to even get started. More on this next. Gizmos, greed, materialism, strip clubs, porno and hookers! The extremely sad state of romance, which I’m primarily, though not exclusively blaming on militant feminism, has also led to an exponential increase in males becoming materialistic, exceptionally greedy and sexually depraved. Expensive electronic gizmos and fancy cars (as well as money itself, materialism and conspicuous consumption) have replaced healthy, satisfying relationships and male sexual satisfaction requires strip clubs, prostitution and pornography! Women should realize that when they become judgmental and condemning towards male sexual assertiveness in the attempt to quell sexual aggression, they are helping to bring about the very male sexual depravity they seek to condemn. Men are born with a certain leadership gene, and although some will not become leaders either of the family or of society, they require a certain amount of respect and space to assert their legitimate male dominance. When the attempt goes from punishing serious criminal and moral wrongs, necessary in an ethical world, to the sanctimonious, constant, unreasonable and negative criticism of assertive male leadership behavior and attempts to emasculate and dis-empower “normal” men, you are automatically asking for trouble. So, women accusers, I urge you to forgive and at least back off and let whatever consciences these men possess (if any) take hold and leave the final judgment to God who knows all, is all powerful and all loving. He will avenge your hurts in the appropriate and effective manner. By the way, I’ve had many women touch me “inappropriately”, i.e. without permission, and I filed no complaints and never asked for $32 million for their attempts at affection. Sexual sins are not unforgivable! A man molests a young person, a power broker forces himself on an unwilling victim, a boss gropes his secretary, a man grabs a colleague’s “butt”. It’s all too common, yet how do we characterize these “sins” and inappropriate “predatory” behavior? Remember, pedophilia literally means “lover of children” and touching someone still can mean that someone is expressing affection. If by predatory, feminism means assertive male leadership, then it is unreasonable and harmful criticism. (see Ephesians 5:33) All healthy males are attracted to young virgins, and that’s as it should be.(see 1 Corinthians 7:34, et al) It’s in our DNA which is programmed by God. (sometimes called instincts) Remember that Jesus touched little children with his hands and his Spirit: “And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them: and his disciples rebuked those that brought them.” (Mark 10:13) The overprotective disciples also misunderstood and thought it was an imposition. Biblical principles say a homosexual man abusing a young boy is doubly egregious, but I will leave that to those who read the book of Romans. Yes, men are bozos and don’t know how to express love towards women and children, if there is any real love in their egotistical hearts. But the level of vitriol and condemnation is way out of proportion, except in the most egregious cases of sexual harassment or assault. In fact, the fear and hatred these women express is harmful to their own peace of mind and it would be better if we “remoralized” (or would it be “demoralized”?) and legalized some of the non-malicious offending behavior in order to spare the young (and older) victims the nightmare of a life scarred by fear, guilt, shame, hatred, spite and vengeance. This may seem controversial, but you will see that it could work. (remember that the law actually creates sin, see 1 John 3:4 and Romans 3:20) The legalistic justice system loves to take people down, but we are called to build our brethren up! Remember, the letter of the law kills our Spirits, but the Spirit of the law brings about salvation. (See 2 Corinthians 3:6) But as Jesus expressed forgiveness for sinners, so are we to turn the other cheek. Jesus was very clear: “Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.” (Matthew 5:38-39) God will punish truly unrepentant men and send them to burn in unquenchable fire. Men have individually and collectively violated the sacred marriage contract through wanton and malicious fornication and lust. Let’s leave it to Jesus to mete out justice and in the meantime, live our lives like we actually love one another. Men will be judged according to their sins. Rest assured of that. And there is, according to Jesus and the Bible, one unforgivable sin: “blasphemy of the Holy Spirit,” which is defined in Matthew 12:31 and Mark 3:28-29 as attributing the ministry of Jesus and the other workings of the Holy Spirit to evil or the devil. This fear, guilt and shame-based society will lose and fail miserably when confronted with the Truth. Although many are skeptical and do not listen, I continue to tell the Truth. As for me, if you ignore my skeletons, I’ll ignore yours! Signed, Stephen M. Theriault Stephen M. Theriault is the author of The Practical Guide to Real Christianity and is organizer/founder of International Citizens Against Corruption and Overdevelopment, one of many groups he has begun. (on Facebook) and Avenger-Equalizer blog and TheJesusReport blog on Tumblr.

[powerfultears-blog]

Act like a man !!!

No disrespect to Steve Harvey as my mind goes back to the movie that was inspired by his book "Think like a man". He was correct in his assessment of men, but I would like to direct your attention to the best selling book of all time on how a man should act. In this best selling book one of its many authors wrote, "Therefore, be careful how you walk, Not as unwise men, but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil." (Ephesians 5:16-17). The same author wrote to a particular group of men where he said, "Be on alert, stand firm in faith, act like men , be strong. Let all that you do be done in love." (1 Corinthians 16:13-14)

Yes, the most important aspect of acting like a man is LOVE... We think things are messed up now in Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, he addresses one really messed up Church. The members of that church had divided themselves into cliques. They were going back and forth with each other about who was and who wasn't really godly. The Spiritual gifts God gave to unite the church were, instead, being used to tear the Church apart. It didn't help that church members didn't know God's word well enough to discern between true and false teachers.

Their behavior was atrocious. Some of the brothers and sisters got drunk on communion Sunday. Others were sleeping around. One guy was even shacking up with his step-mother and the church didn't seem to care. Despite the fact that Paul (an apostle of the Lord) had personally, led them to Christ, many refused to submit to his authority. After all, what right did Paul have to tell them what to do?

Now, put yourself in Paul's place. What would you say to a church like that? What would you tell them to do? What challenge would you offer them? What command would you call them to obey? How about this -"Act like men!!!"

Excuse me? say that again, I'm not sure I understand. Paul, our church is divided some of us here don't like each other very much. The worship service is chaotic and some of the brethren are going home drunk. Immorality is taking hold and false teachers have found a home. So tell me once again - What are we supposed to do? At the end of Paul's letter, in 1 Corinthians 16:13, here's what he tells the messed up Corinthian church to do. Here's how he tells them to get their act together. He say's "Act like men!!!"

What does it mean for a church family to "act like men?" There's only one way we can answer that question. The only way we can know what it means for a church to act like men is to first know what it means for men to "act like men!!!" And that's what I want to show in this blog...

Father's, sons, husbands, bachelors- We need to know what it means to act like men? What did God have in mind for you and me when he made us to be men instead of women? And, make no mistake about it God had something specific in mind when He made men to be men and women to be women !!!

So what's it mean to be a man??? The bible says in 1 Corinthians 16:13-14, "Be on the alert, Stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love." Paul challenges a self-absorbed, struggling church to turn itself around by obeying these fine commands, Be on the alert, stand form in the faith, act like men, Be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.

I don't believe any of those commands stand alone. All five commands relate to each other. All five are connected to another. In other words, in order for us to obey one of those commands we must obey them all !!! So-fathers, sons,husbands,bachelors-what does it mean to "act like men"??? The essence of obeying that command is found in obeying the other four. let's start with verse 14. As part of his instruction to the Corinthians church to "act like men" Paul writes, "Let all that you do be done in love"!!!

So, what does it mean to act like men? First, acting like a man means being a lover!!! Now, before you get all excited about that, let's make sure we understand what kind of love we're talking about here. The love being spoke of here is the same love God offers us in Christ. The love God demands of men isn't a love defined by feelings. It's not the kind of love offered because of the pleasure we get in return. No loving like God loves means seeking what's best for the other person-even when you have to pay the price!!! 1 John 4 : 9-10 makes it clear. God's love is sacrificial love "This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: Not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins." Do you understand what it meant for God to love you???

It meant sacrifice !!! It meant God suffering for your benefit. It meant God enduring pain for the sake of your Salvation. So let me ask you- Fathers, Sons, husbands, bachelors - do you act like men? Have you ever- do you Now- Seek what's best for others? Even when you have to pay a price??? Are you man enough to be a lover when loving means paying a price???

Someone in the church needs to act like men!!! Maybe it should be the men. Are we ready? Are we willing ? Then let's choose to love our wives, Our children, Our church and, each other like God loves us in Christ !!!

Paul instructs us to act like men. let all that you do be done in love. Then because of your love, be on the alert (be watchful). The first command of 1 Corinthians 16:13 says, " Be on the alert (Be watchful)!!. That shouldn't surprise us. It shouldn't surprise us because God specifically calls men to be providers for and protectors of their families and their communities. It's not politically correct to say that. But its true !!! Being a man means being a protector. And being a protector means being vigilant!!! It means being alert so what does it mean to be on the alert? It means staying awake. It means always being alert so you can instantly respond to changing circumstances or the approach of danger !!!

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Said, " The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands at moments of comfort and convenience but where he stands at time of challenge and controversy. " For me, I understand that controversy is my friend, for when I address it , my character develops !!! As a man, do you understand the dangers that threaten your own life and eternity? How about the dangers that threaten your church? How about the dangers that threaten your wife, your children, your family? Satan wants to destroy you. Satan wants your children in hell. Satan wants your churches divided men !!! What are you doing about it? are we on the alert? Are we awake???

Do you know where being on the alert starts? It starts with us being watchful over our own spiritual lives !!! men, if you won't guard your own spiritual life, how can you protect your family's? Can I ask? how alert are you to your own pride? How watchful are you when it comes to your own covetousness and materialism? Are you awake to the destructive power of your own lust? What are you willing to do to get pornography out of your life? What sacrifices are you willing to make to spend time in prayer and in God's word? Do you test your beliefs, your thoughts, your opinions, your attitudes and your actions against the plumb line of scripture? men, you cannot protect your family if you will not first protect yourself!!!

And what about your family? what about your home? Are you watchful? Are you alert to what Satan is trying to do? what does your family watch at home? what do you allow your children to read and see? Are you awake? Are you living for eternity? Do you see Jesus standing at the door? Are you teaching your children to do the same? And, do you pray while you watch? In the New Testament, watching and praying go together. In watching we see the danger. In prayer we cry out to the only One who can deliver us from the danger we see!!!

Men, do we understand the danger at hand? The enemy is engaged, Our culture has given itself over to deception!!! Eternal destinies are at stake. It's not time to give ourselves over to self-absorption and lust. It's not time to drift with the current of our day. Satan is very much at work now ! He wants you to be useless to God !!! He wants your marriage in chaos. He wants your children dead-for ever. We're not at picnic. We're in a war- and the casualties are real. He tried his best to make me a casualty in this war !!! To bad for him, I'm engaged, I am on the alert, I am awake !!!

God is calling us to lay or lives down in love. He's calling us to be watchful, And third, In 1 Corinthians 16:13, God's calling us to stand firm in the faith. Be on the alert, stand firm in the faith, act like men... What does it mean to stand firm in the faith. Standing firm means holding to the truth when truth isn't Convenient!!! It means refusing to compromise when the Bible is clear. It means forgiving people when they need to be forgiven. It means confronting people when they need to be confronted. It means reaching out to people who need to be reached out to. In other words, standing firm in the faith means being a doer of the word and not just a hearer!!!

Can I ask you a personal question? Fathers, have your children ever seen you stand up for Jesus? Have they ever seen you stand firm in your faith when the pressure to compromise was on? Have they seen you obey God when obedience cost you something? Does your family know that you love God more than your own comfort? your own convenience? Do they know that, in your mind, Jesus is worth dying for? By your own example, are you teaching your children that the greatest life there is, is a life lived for God? I remember when my Something Special, my baby girl, Wisdom Joanna Lynae Powell confronted me on compromise when she asked me "Daddy you didn't love me enough not to rob a Bank, you knew I was going to be born???" To explain to my Nine year old daughter that by not acting like a man, has caused her to be deprived of the protector and provisions God intended for her a most challenging and difficult thing to do. It had lead me to live Incarcerated these past ten years with a broken and a contrite heart that God hasn't despised !!! It has caused me to truly take a stand for Christ. Not only do I speak absolute truth in a world that say's there no absolute truth, I live that very truth daily standing firm in the faith !!!

Where do we find the strength to stand firm in the faith? We find the strength to act like men in our personal knowledge of who God is and what He's done for us in Christ. Do you have that knowledge? Have you experienced God's grace in your life through faith in Jesus Christ? Do you believe that when Jesus died on the cross he died for your sins? Do you know that He lives today as your risen Lord? Do you have a saving relationship with Him? Are you growing strong in that relationship?

Finally back in 1 Corinthians 16:13 finds one last command associated with Paul's instruction to "act like men". It's his command to "be strong". acting like men means being strong. So what kind of strength is Paul talking about here? Is Paul calling us a men to become physically strong like I see males doing everyday all day long in this environment? No !!! Luke 1:80a Say's "And the child continues to grow and to become strong in Spirit." Luke 2:40 say's, "The child continued to grow and become strong increasing in wisdom; and the grace of God was upon him." Do you see what kind of strength God looks for in us? God is looking for Christian men (Women too) who are Spiritually Strong !!!

Men, you'll never become strong in the Lord until you discipline yourself to become strong. We'll never act like men if we just drift through life. you must decide to commit yourself to the word. You must decide to commit yourself to prayer. Being strong doesn't happen any other way.

Act like men !!! This world already has too many soft,neutered,self-absorbed spiritual wimps. Act like men !!! Be what God made you to be when He decided Not to make you a woman. Pay the price to love your wife and your children like God love you in Christ. Wake up and be on the alert. Guard those whom God has entrusted into your care. Model what it means to stand firm in the faith. Invest yourself in God. Be disciplined. Then you will become stronger and stronger in Jesus. The world needs men who act like men. The church needs men who act like men. Your family needs men who act like men. So men-act like men!!!

[live4thelord]

Return to Me

It might sound odd for me to claim that Confession is one of my favorite sacraments, but how could it not be when I have found such tremendous mercy and redemption in it?

If I am merciful to others in my ministry and teaching settings, it is because I have been shown great mercy. More than once, I have been the prodigal son who runs off with the wealth and blessings of the Father, waking up later in my filth and empty self-centeredness, only to return to the open arms of a God who knows and loves me with reckless abandon.

One of our Faith’s greatest treasures is the sacrament of mercy itself, Reconciliation, commonly called Confession. Now, I could point to the establishment of this sacrament from the early Church councils, reference writings of the Church Fathers, elaborate on Scripture’s encouraging us to confess our sins (1 John 1:9) and gave His apostles the power to loose and bind sins (Matt. 18:18), but I prefer to share with you the awe and appreciation I have for this holy mystery.

Confession has proven to be the steadfast reminder of my fallenness and need for the mercy of God in order to run well this earthly race.

A God of Grit and Grime

I realize that my love of Confession seems like a strange notion in our modern time. To confess anything implies that I committed a wrong. In our relativistic times, in which there is supposedly no objective truth and “sin” is a lost concept, can anything be wrong? Does sin even exist anymore?

To go before a priest in Confession and personally, bodily, and vulnerably own up to my sins certainly stands in sharp contrast to the airbrushed and flawless facade I’m expected to keep up online. We live in an age of disconnection, in which we can hide behind phone screens and digital barriers and block anything uncomfortable. We can manicure our social media presence to make sure we’re portrayed as spotless with the perfect filters. We can delete our flaws, block annoyances, and delete browser histories so we look as if we have nothing to hide.

But there’s a problem. We’re not perfect. We all have things that we hide. I know that I’m broken and wounded. I’ve felt the weight of sin on my soul, the compounded effects of lust, anger, self-centeredness, and spiritual laziness. I’m tempted to lie and steal. I’ve allowed myself to be in unhealthy relationships, driven by lust and insecurity. I’m immensely prone to sin. That’s not being neurotic; it is an honest diagnosis of the problem at hand. We can’t receive healing without first naming the disease.

There’s a human need to repent and conform ourselves to what is true. More often today, we attempt to do so through incomplete, imperfect and even distorted means, such as therapy and reveal-all moments on daytime talk show. People post way-too-revealing details of their lives online because of a sincere need for human connection and for the truth to be known. We desire to be seen and loved for the wholeness of who we are, no matter how we try to bury the details.

Religious or not, we have an instinctive revulsion to liars and to being lied to. We value men and women of integrity who walk uprightly, whose behavior matches their talk. Immoral actions done in secret eat away at us because we’re living in darkness. We desire the truth and to live in the light of truth. The truth sets us free and brings healing.

The beauty, of course, is that through Jesus Christ we are offered far more than a cathartic moment on a talk show: we are offered a real return to the wholeness for which we have been made. Jesus is the Truth that can dispel our falsities and infirmities, but only if we first confess that we have a need to be healed.

Often when Jesus encountered the sick, He would bring healing to the soul just as readily as to the body. When men brought their paralyzed friend to Jesus to be healed, Jesus first forgave the man’s sins (Matt. 9:1- 8). The Apostle James encouraged the sick, “Confess your sins to one another and pray for another, that you may be healed” (James 5:16). Confession brings a real interior and exterior healing.

Only God can forgive sins, of course. The Pharisees were horrified when Jesus claimed the authority to forgive sins, because He was essentially equating himself with Yahweh, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Such a claim intimated the fantastic idea that God would deign to take on crude flesh to live in our grit and grime and walk among us.

That was precisely what God deigned and did.

Returning to the Father

Hours before we were married, my wife and I went to Confession separately, wanting to enter into marriage as free as we could be. We confessed times when we gave away our love to individuals who didn’t deserve it and times when we ourselves failed to love as we should. I knew that through years of viewing pornography, I had given myself to so many other women, but that through God’s grace my mind and memory had begun the healing process. On our wedding day, we wanted to come together without any reservation of our past and be intimately one. And that’s what Confession is all about.

The word “Reconciliation” emphasizes a return to intimacy with God. The hint of spousal love is not accidental; it is exactly the point. God wants us to be present with Him in each moment with that level of spousal unity. Sin isn’t the mere breaking of a rule, but the severing of a loving relationship. Confession is the rightful movement back to the Divine Lover, who longs for our return.

“Return, Israel, to the Lord your God,” said the prophet Hosea to his people in exile (Hos. 14:2). Time and time again, the Hebrew people forgot the goodness of the Lord, and yet God stood steadfast as only a lover could. Time and time again, we are tempted to walk away from the Lord’s goodness, yet God waits on our return. Through the imperfect priest, we are given access to the Perfect Lover of our souls.

Pope Francis stated that it’s not God who tires of forgiving us, but we who tire of asking for forgiveness. I know that I experienced shame and frustration with having to return to the sacrament week after week for issues of lust in my college years. I would go to different parishes, worried that the priests would start remembering me. Of course, I was missing the point that I needed to be held accountable and that God was always, always waiting there in the priest to receive me back into that intimate relationship with Him.

Now that I’m a parent, my children, of course, do things that try my patience and push me to anger. My anger with them lasts but a moment, and in the next instant, I try to console, reconcile and shower love on them. God the Father sees us with such infinite love that no sin we ever commit can separate us from Him. But we must be humble enough to say, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Go and Sin No More

The answer to the moral crises of our time is to live in holiness. In every time of trial for the Church, great saints have risen to lead the response, souls humble enough to admit that they are sinners in need of a Savior.

At the end of each confession, we say an Act of Contrition, in which we assert our intent to avoid whatever leads us into sin. There is a danger of treating Confession as a quick car wash when we frequent the sacrament without committing to changing problematic behaviors and habits. This cheapens the divine mercy God offers us through the blood of Christ.

How serious are we about living this call to repentance? We must be “all in.” We must be willing to get to the roots of our habits and to see where our wounds originated. “If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out” (Mark 9:47). I have friends who have downgraded their phones to “dumb phones,” so that they could be free of their endless temptations to lust, envy, and sloth. I installed software on my computer years ago to help me overcome pornography use and hold me accountable, for the sake of my soul and my future vocation. It’s not easy, and it takes time. But through our examining the origins of our scars, God is glorified and we can be transformed. Behaviors can be corrected and wholeness can be achieved with the assistance of the Divine Healer.

Pardon and Peace

“For freedom Christ has set us free” (Gal. 5:1). God did not send His only Son so that we might have more rules and live in fearful, neurotic guilt, but that we might have life in abundance (John 10:10). A life lived in the divine love and truth will truly set us free.

I try to go to Confession at least once a month. St. John Paul II would go once a week—what the pope had to confess, only God knows! The holier we become, the more we see our selfish tendencies and flaws and see the great distance between who we are and who we could be. The great saints attest to this fact. But still God pours His grace out upon those humble enough and persistent enough to ask for it.

Experience the healing God wants to pour out upon you. Return to the intimacy of God in this treasured sacrament of the Church. Confess and believe in the glory of God!

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This article is adapted from in Spirit and Life by Rose Rea