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anonymousewrites · 3 months ago

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Adolescent Antichrist (Book 6) Chapter Twelve

Father Figure! Lucifer Morningstar x Teen! Reader

Demon! OC x Reader

Chapter Twelve: I hate Politics, but I’m Campaigning

Summary: Lucifer has a big heart, and that means playing politics is hard for him. (Y/N) steps up to the plate for him.

Mouse Note: I'm back! So happy to be posting for you all again.

“Okay,” said (Y/N), pacing in front of the LGBTQ+ Breakfast Club. “Situation: Michael is trying to become God.”

“Ew, no,” said Olive.

“He would be a terrible choice,” said Leon grimly.

“Job: we have to stop it,” said (Y/N).

“Question!” said Noa, raising their hand.

“Yes,” said (Y/N), pointing at them.

“Is beating him up an option?” asked Noa.

“My dad doesn’t want any of us getting hurt, so no,” said (Y/N).

Noa groaned. “But he deserves it.”

“I know,” said (Y/N), sighing.

“So what are our options?” asked Marcel.

“Options,” said (Y/N). “Get Lucifer to be voted in as God or abolish Godhood.”

“Problem: both are going to be difficult,” said Em.

“I can’t imagine a lot of angels are fans of Lucifer after the rebellion,” said Olive.

“But how would we abolish Godhood?” said Noa.

“Yeah, we’re stuck on that option, even if it is my favorite,” said (Y/N). “So our plan is to go with Option 1.”

“We have to help Lucifer’s campaign,” said Em.

“How?” asked Marcel.

“Lucifer is going to be meeting angels and trying to get them to support him,” said (Y/N). “He needs to convince them he would be a better option than Michael.”

“So Michael and Lucifer are both playing the idea that the other is a worse option?” said Leon.

“Pretty much,” said Em. “While at the same time acting proud of their own accomplishments.”

“This is human politics,” remarked Leon.

“Don’t remind them of that. Angels are super proud of being not humans,” said (Y/N).

“What do we do to convince them?” asked Marcel.

“If you see Michael at all with an angel, let (Y/N), me, or Lucifer know,” said Em. “Get a photo, if you can.”

“If we know who is hesitating and who has picked a side, it’ll be easier to find the swing votes,” said (Y/N).

“And equally as important to know who could be a spy or part of some plot of Michael’s to hurt someone,” said Em. “It’s super likely that Michael will try to get into Lucifer’s head by getting someone he cares about in trouble.”

“Case in point,” said (Y/N), gesturing to their black markings.

“Should we talk to any of the angels?” asked Em.

“No,” said Em. “They weren’t fans of the Apocalypse nearly happening, so a reminder of that with the Four Horsemen will just make them upset.”

“They didn’t react well to me at the cookout,” said (Y/N).

“So it’s best to leave the interactions with Lucifer,” said Em. “Because they’ll react better to a fellow angel.” She paused. “Wow, I cannot believe we’re advocating for Lucifer to have the conversations.”

“No, I’m going to talk to them,” said (Y/N).

“I thought we established that was a bad idea.” Em leveled a look at their partner.

(Y/N) smiled brightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Are you campaigning for Lucifer?” said Noa, leaning forward.

“Oh my god, you are,” said Olive, grinning. “Only need to change the focus from Lucifer to you, and it would be your campaign.”

“No, nope, nuh-uh, we’re not doing this again,” groaned (Y/N).

“What was it again?” said Marcel. “(Y/N)—the Responsible God?”

“I am still a fan,” said Leon. “And as some sort of Celestial, we get a vote, as well.”

“We should do a write in on the ballot for (Y/N),” giggled Olive.

“The angels would get a kick out of that,” said Marcel.

(Y/N) looked helplessly at Em.

“I’d be dating a god.” Em considered. “Not a bad deal. I’d support it.”

(Y/N) decided to go and bang their head against a wall.

(Y/N) hovered at the edge of Lux, watching Lucifer sit in front of Jophiel and speak to him. The drinks were flowing, and Jophiel was happily watching some of the dancers in Lux. (Y/N) narrowed their eyes and leaned on the railing. Judging by Lucifer’s expression falling and the way he stood and walked off, it hadn’t gone well.

Jophiel was on Michael’s side. Lucifer had a bad reputation among his siblings. He had always been a good man in the end, but no one could see that. They couldn’t even see that over the last few years he had really improved. He had learned from his mistakes and become responsible. He was even a good father.

(Y/N) sighed. No one except Amenadiel had witnessed his growth. They still saw just the Devil, the anger thrown out of the Silver City. Even if this wasn’t a campaign for Godhood, (Y/N) would want Lucifer’s siblings to see who he really was. They wanted them to see the amazing man their dad was.

And they wanted to kick Michael’s ass.

“Why bother, Lucifer?” said Saraqael. This time, Lucifer was meeting during the day before the party started at Lux because she was more…Well, she wasn’t like frat boy. “You’re not getting my vote.”

(Y/N) sat in the wings where no one could see them and listened quietly. The campaign really wasn’t going the right way.

“Yeah, I support you once in the rebellion, but then I had to suffer Dad’s passive-aggressive wrath,” said Saraqael. “And try climbing out of that proverbial doghouse. And it certainly doesn’t help your case that even Jophiel, who, let’s face it, is an idiot, even he thinks your pitch is lacking. Truth is I’m only here as a courtesy.”

Do angels realize how rude they all are? thought (Y/N).

“Saraqael. Sara,” said Lucifer. “What is it you truly desire?”

Never mind this is a terrible pitch. They could have groaned. Apparently they’d have to take a more hands-on approach to getting Lucifer to godhood by taking control of everything.

“You seriously think I’m going to fall for your little party trick?” said Saraqael.

“A not-so-wise woman recently suggested I lean into my strengths,” said Lucifer.

And he misinterpreted it. Undoubtedly, Chloe meant show everyone how he’d become responsible and intelligent and could grow from mistakes and could actually lead. Not…ask people what they desire.

“Too bad she didn’t teach you how to cut your losses,” said Saraqael.

“I learned I needed to ask not what angels can do for you, but what can you do for angels?” said Lucifer.

Not bad, thought (Y/N).

“I have no idea what that means,” said Saraqael.

Angels are all idiots, thought (Y/N). The idea of abolishing godhood for that simple reason sounded super appealing.

“It means you’re right,” said Lucifer. “I shouldn’t try to convince you I’d be a better God than Michael. What I should do is the one thing I can do better than anyone and that is grant favors. So, again, I humbly ask you, what is it you desire?”

Saraqael scoffed. “I’m an angel, Lucifer, I’m totally above the base passions and petty desires that humans fall prey to.”

(Y/N) scoffed.

“Oh my god.” Saraqael stared as someone entered Lux. “Is that Michael Voltaggio?”

There we go, thought (Y/N), rolling their eyes.

“You mean Top Chef champion Michael Voltaggio? Why, yes it is,” said Lucifer. “Hello, Michael.”

“You’re Lucifer’s sister, right?” said Voltaggio, smiling at Saraqael.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” said Saraqael excitedly. “Michael, is that really you in the flesh? I mean, you—I just—I can’t, I just, I—You!” She laughed nervously. “Your egg yolk gnocchi is divine, and I should know because I’m an angel. But you, you are such a bad boy, and I am feeling hungry.”

Ew.

“Anyway, Michael, would you excuse us for just a moment?” said Lucifer.

“Sure, I’ll just be over at the bar,” said Voltaggio.

“Okay,” giggled Saraqael.

“So, I have arranged for you to have the full Volt VIP experience,” said Lucifer. “A Friday night reservation for life at Estuary, his new restaurant in DC, Michael’s special recipe for rice pilaf, and…his personal phone number. In exchange, all I ask for your support.”

“Wow. I mean, I gotta hand it to you, Lucifer,” said Saraqael. “It’s gonna be really hard to say no after that.”

“Excellent,” chuckled Lucifer.

“Thank you so much,” said Saraqael.

“Well, truth be told, Michael owes me,” said Lucifer. “How else do you think he won Top Chef? That squab was inedible.”

“But still, I mean, this is a really big favor to ask,” said Saraqael. “You must really wanna be God.” She paused. “Actually…why do you want it so badly?”

Lucifer paused awkwardly. “Uh, well, you know, because who-who wouldn’t want it?” He didn’t really have an answer.

(Y/N)’s heart ached. He didn’t want to admit to everything that he wanted to prove himself worthy of something to people.

Saraqael looked at him. “Uhuh…Right…” She cleared her throat. “You know what? I actually need to think about this a little more?”

“Saraqael, I—”

“I should go,” said Saraqael. She stood and headed to the door.

(Y/N) looked at Lucifer’s dejected face, and they headed to the exit of Lux. They paused as they watched her look around to check if humans were looking.

“Saraqael,” called (Y/N).

Saraqael turned around in surprise and saw (Y/N). She paused. “Oh. You’re the…Antichrist.”

“I’m Lucifer’s child,” corrected (Y/N).

“Right,” said Saraqael, still looking at them hesitantly.

“Let me guess, Michael said to be worried about me?” said (Y/N).

“You are the Antichrist,” said Saraqael.

Great. (Y/N) closed their eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. Yeah, I am. But I don’t want to hurt anyone. Can you listen to me without thinking about whatever Michael said to me?”

“…Very well,” said Saraqael.

“I think you should support my dad,” said (Y/N).

“Why? He doesn’t even have a reason to be God,” said Saraqael. “And he’s still…Lucifer.”

“Yeah, he is,” said (Y/N). “But he’s not the Devil. He’s more than that.” They paused. “And I think you guys have only seen that part of him.”

Saraqael looked at them.

They continued. “I mean, he wants to help you have a good experience with food, something you enjoy. He pays attention to what people want. Is that like the Lucifer you remember?”

“I…suppose not,” said Saraqael.

“And what type of God do you want?” said (Y/N). “Someone who’s going to ask you what he can do to you to help you out—which means he’ll do the same for the world—or someone who was telling God He was losing control of His powers to get Him to rely on them?”

Saraqael furrowed her brow.

“Lucifer wants to grow as a person. He knows he’s messed up in the past, and he’s trying to show his family he’s doing better and will keep doing better,” said (Y/N). “Michael can’t admit when he’s done something wrong. He believes he’s always right.” They paused. “You’re smart. You know that’s not a good trait. So, please, I know you’re still thinking, but make sure to consider how my dad and Michael act, not just what they say. Those are two different things. The world deserves someone who is good and isn’t thinking selfishly.”

Saraqael looked at them curiously. “I’ll keep that in mind…” Her wings came out, but she paused before leaving. “You’re not what I expected.”

“I hope in a good way,” said (Y/N), smiling.

Saraqael smiled slightly. “If you’re Lucifer’s child, then it means he’s done something right.” Flap!

She was gone.

I hope that means she’ll consider voting for Dad, thought (Y/N). They sighed. “I hate politics, but I’m campaigning,” they grumbled. This was hard work.

And we only have one swing vote left…

“I was wrong,” said Lucifer. He cleared his throat. “I know, it’s a miracle.” He carried two drinks to Zadkiel and sat down across from him. They sat in the penthouse, private and almost vulnerable. “But as much as it pains me to say, my rebellion was ill-conceived. Why? Because I did it for the wrong reasons. I rebelled out of anger towards Father, out of a desire to prove that I was better than him, but I’ve changed.”

Zadkiel leaned forward in interest and surprise.

Lucifer continued to speak honestly. “I’ve spent my time on Earth growing, getting over my…daddy issues.” He smiled softly. “I even found a child that reminded me of, well, me. And they’re…so good. They helped me realize how hard fatherhood really is.” He cleared his throat. “It made me realize how monumental our father’s job actually was and is now.” He looked at Zadkiel. “Those are big shoes to fill, but I promise you, Zadkiel, I will give it my absolute best.”

“Lucifer.” Zadkiel finally spoke. “Wow! That was well spoken. Emotionally evolved. Impressive.” He raised his glass, and he and Lucifer toasted.

“Impressive enough to possibly win over the Angel of Righteousness?” remarked Lucifer.

“I mean, no.” Zadkiel leaned back. “It’s always gonna be a no.”

Lucifer chuckled bitterly. “You don’t want to meet Michael Voltaggio, do you?”

“I’m just here for the whiskey,” said Zadkiel. “Jophiel said you bribed with top shelf. And to watch you grovel.”

Lucifer bit the inside of his cheek and grinned bitterly. “Of course it was never gonna work, was it?” He stood. “All that nonsense about making peace with Father and growing as an angel.” He downed his drink. “You know, the crazy thing is, it’s all true, but…it’s not the whole truth.” He hesitated before turning angrily to face Zadkiel. He was so fed up with all of the angels and all the struggle and everything he was trying to work towards falling through.

“Do you want to know why I’m doing all of this? Why I’m trying to become God?” Lucifer laughed mirthlessly. “I’m doing it for love. I’m doing it for the love of my child. Because they are nothing but goodness and kindness and everything that makes the world worth living in, and the world has never been kind enough to them. I want to be God so that I can give them a world they deserve. So that they can be safe and loved and just be them. And I cannot let them be forced to endure a world where Michael is God. Where Michael gets to say to our family how they should think of my child. Where he has the power to harm them. I can’t live with that. I want them to have the life they deserve. Because I love (Y/N) more than anything in world.”

He gestured wildly to the bar. “So there you have it, enjoy the top shelf.” Lucifer walked towards the elevator angrily.

Zadkiel watched him, a pensive expression on his face.

The doors slid open, and (Y/N) stepped out. They looked at Lucifer and immediately frowned.

“Dad? Are you alright?” asked (Y/N).

“I just…need a moment,” said Lucifer, composing himself enough to smile at (Y/N) as he stepped into the elevator.

Before the doors even finished closing, (Y/N) was storming towards Zadkiel. They glared, and he watched the shadows lash at the edges of the room.

“What did you say to him?” said (Y/N).

“I said that I wasn’t going to vote for him,” said Zadkiel, staring at them.

“He can take that, what else? He clearly wasn’t alright,” said (Y/N).

“He was speaking about the reasons he wanted to become God. He was talking about you,” said Zadkiel, looking at their reaction curiously.

(Y/N) groaned and fell back on the couch. “Oh, hell, this is his self-esteem again.”

Zadkiel leaned forward. To see Lucifer’s child’s perspective on him…it would be quite honest. Michael himself had said the Antichrist was rude and brisk even with God Himself.

They looked at Zadkiel and squared their shoulders. “Look. I know you don’t think he can do the job, but…he can. He thinks this is all about proving himself, but he doesn’t have to. You and all your siblings need to really see who he is. He’s—He’s amazing. From the first moment I met him, he was kind and understanding and accepting in a way no one else in my life ever had been. He protects me, he helps me, he supports me, he accepts me, he takes care of me, he does everything right as a dad! And even when he messes up, he tries to apologize and then do the right thing.” (Y/N) looked at Zadkiel with a fervent intensity. “You all just see the young Lucifer who rebelled. This isn’t him. This is Lucifer the dad. The one who has grown. The one who learns from his mistakes. The one who is humble for all his supposed arrogance.” They swallowed. “I trust him to do the right thing as God.”

(Y/N) sighed. “God needs to be someone who sees the big picture. I think all of you are thinking too small. You’re thinking just of each other and how your family interacts.” They looked at Zadkiel. “This is about Godhood. This is about the world. This is about everyone living on Earth. If God only talks to your family and appease the issues within it, they’ll ignore Earth. They’ll ignore the people. God needs to understand this world. Have a heart and a love for it and everything else in the world.”

They groaned and looked at Zadkiel, who just stared at them with interest. “You all are just talking about how Michael is with you all and how Lucifer is with you all. You’re all thinking too small. Even you. You’re the Angel of Righteousness, but even you haven’t considered that Michael considers himself above everyone else. Above the angels, yeah. But worse, above humanity. He doesn’t respect people. I can’t have a God like that.” They looked intensely at Zadkiel. “So, please. Don’t vote for someone who is only going to bring greed. Vote for a God with love. That’s all I want. That’s what I’d do, if I was in charge.”

(Y/N) stood. “Please. The angels are thinking about what they want. You need to think of what the world needs. That’s what matters.”

Zadkiel looked at (Y/N) long and hard. After a tense moment of just looking at them in assessment, he spoke. “Saraqael was right. You’re not what we expected.” He stood and held his staff in a strangely official stance. “I think our family is starting to like you.”

“This isn’t about angels liking me. It’s about them doing what’s right,” said (Y/N) simply.

Zadkiel smiled slightly. “Yes. It is.”

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auronira · 8 months ago

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Being someone who is allo (just learned about the existance of this word) and cis, I want to talk about the hot topic of Alastor being shipped romantically and sexually by the fandom of Hazbin Hotel.

I understand that the topic I'm about to delve into may require some patience and open-mindedness. As a young individual seeking understanding, I implore you to hear me out before forming any judgments. English isn't my first language, so I apologize if my expressions seem weird, also it may take a while to get what I am saying here, I took a lot of time to get my point across so please give me a little bit of your time - especially if you are aroace or anywhere among that spectrum.

First of all, being cis and allo is obviously one of the most comfortable shoes you can wear within society. I am aware of that.

For instance, as someone who enjoys immersing myself in various forms of media such as books, movies, and video games, I often find characters and narratives that resonate with my experiences. This familiarity allows me to connect deeply with the stories and derive genuine enjoyment from them. I've never had to grapple with the challenges of feeling unseen or misunderstood in this regard, and for that, I am privileged.

Contrastingly, I recognize the struggles that members of the LGBTQ+ community often face. The need to repeatedly explain one's identity and preferences, the constant battle for visibility and acceptance – these are realities that I've never had to confront personally. My identity has always been accepted without question, and for that, I'm grateful. However, I'm eager to learn and empathize with those whose journeys differ from my own so please try and be patient with me.

To my fellow cisgender and heterosexual individuals who may be unfamiliar with what I'm about to explain: Consider the concept of "comfort characters" and why they hold such significance in our lives. For me, growing up, Katniss Everdeen served as my comfort character. Reflecting on her impact on my childhood development, I realize the profound influence she had. During a time when I was grappling with personal challenges that I wasn't yet ready to confide in my family about, my connection to Katniss provided solace. Through her character, I found the strength to envision myself facing adversity head-on, overcoming obstacles with resilience. It may seem trivial to some, given that she's a fictional creation, but the bond I forged with her played a pivotal role in shaping my identity.

I believe many of us can relate to forming such deep connections with fictional characters as we navigate through the complexities of adolescence and young adulthood. These characters serve as guiding lights, offering solace and inspiration during times of uncertainty. Even if you haven't personally experienced such a connection, I encourage you to consider the profound impact that representation can have on shaping one's sense of self and belonging.

Representation matters because it validates our experiences and identities, providing a sense of visibility and validation that is essential for personal growth and empowerment. Just as we find comfort and inspiration in the characters we admire, so too do marginalized individuals deserve to see themselves reflected in the stories they consume. It's through diverse representation that we foster empathy, understanding, and inclusivity within our communities and society as a whole.

Representation matters because it gives people characters they can relate to and admire. But not every character needs to be relatable for everyone to like them. For instance, I really enjoyed watching the relationship between She-Ra and Catra in the show She-Ra. Even though I'm straight, I can imagine the profound joy it brought to members of the LGBTQ+ community who could see themselves represented in a meaningful way. They relate to those characters differently than I do, and that's totally okay. Sometimes, fans want to see their favorite characters in certain ways, even if it's not exactly how the creators intended them to be. They create their own ideas about the characters to feel a deeper connection. While it's natural to want to connect with characters, it's also important to respect the original story and the creators' intentions.

While it's natural to seek characters with whom we can personally identify, it's equally important to appreciate the diversity of perspectives and experiences that representation brings. It's through this diversity that stories become richer and more inclusive, resonating with a broader audience and fostering empathy and understanding across different communities.

So what does that mean for aroace people when it comes to Alastor?

For this to understand I'm just gonna try and picture myself in a different pair of metaphorical shoes, but when it comes to being ace they may not even feel like shoes at all, but more as if you are running barefoot over the nastiest lego pieces in existance.

Imagine going to a bookstore and struggling to find something that aligns with your tastes. Maybe you spend hours searching, only to come up empty-handed. Perhaps you end up settling for whatever book is popular at the moment, feeling left out because there's no variety that speaks to you. Or maybe you turn to the internet, hoping to find your perfect book match online, but even that proves to be a challenge. In the end, you might resort to reading fanfiction because there, at least, the chances of finding representation are higher.

This struggle isn't limited to books but extends to movies, TV shows, and everything else. Constantly feeling like you don't belong can be painful and isolating. I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone. Unfortunately, society can't change overnight, so we have to work with what we have for now.

The bottom line is, everyone deserves to see themselves represented in the media they consume. It's not just about personal preference; it's about feeling seen and valued in a world that often overlooks our differences. And until that becomes a reality, we'll keep pushing for change, one step at a time. Finally, there's that one character – in this case, Alastor – and for the first time, asexual individuals can feel that sense of connection I've been talking about. They feel seen and acknowledged, just as we all do when we find something or someone we can relate to. This is what books, TV shows, and video games are all about – providing us with enjoyment and a sense of validation, especially in a world that can be tough.

Representation of diverse sexualities in media isn't just important for LGBTQ+ individuals; it's beneficial for everyone. It helps broaden our understanding of each other and breaks down barriers without anyone having to change who they are to fit in. This is the power of art and the stories we consume – they have the ability to blur the lines between people and foster greater empathy and acceptance. Ultimately, it's about making everyone feel like they belong and have a place in the world.

I'll be honest – I don't really think about labels much anymore. I've found that they can sometimes divide people even further, which isn't what I'm about. It's not that I have anything against labels in general; I just personally don't dwell on them. However, I do recognize the subtle influence they can have on me, even though I consider myself quite open-minded.

I've come to a point where I've found peace in the idea that everyone should just be allowed to be themselves, as long as they're happy. I didn't actively choose to be straight; it's just who I am. And I don't expect anyone else to have to "choose" their sexuality either – they should just be able to exist and be happy. I've reached a mindset where I don't really give much thought to someone's sexuality when I see it portrayed in media. They're just who they are, and I'm just who I am. But I understand that for many people, having those labels is important for representation and visibility. Perhaps, initially, society needs those divisions in order for certain groups to feel seen and acknowledged. And while I may not personally identify with those labels, I can still appreciate their significance to others. At the end of the day, it's about acceptance and understanding, regardless of labels.

Returning to the topic of Alastor, now that there's this ace character, the fandom takes him and sometimes decides to change him to fit their own desires. It's similar (I guess) to the disappointment some feel when an author keeps a protagonist's appearance vague, only for fans to imagine them as the perfect, conventionally beautiful princess. This can be hurtful to people who don't fit that idealized image because they ask themselves "would the story be any different if she would be smaller, or chubby, or (insert whatever you want)?"

What's crucial to recognize here is that some fans might struggle to accept Alastor's sexuality because they feel like he has to be different for them to enjoy certain content without feeling guilty or needing to justify their actions. Our minds often try to protect us with such a mindset so we can feel good about ourselves and our choices. For some, that means trying to impose their beliefs on a character so they can comfortably engage with them in their own fanworks.

It's important to acknowledge that everyone interprets and engages with media differently. However, it's also important to respect the creator's original intentions and the representation they've provided. Trying to change a character to fit one's own desires can be disrespectful to both the character and those who identify with them.

Ultimately, it's about finding a balance between creative freedom and respecting the integrity of the source material.

Here are two key considerations that both sides should bear in mind, (if I even have the right to say anything as someone who is clearly underqualified when it comes to topics like that as a cis and allo):

On one hand, it's important for ace individuals to understand that people often enjoy engaging with characters in various ways, including through shipping and fanfiction. Characters may take on different traits or orientations in these creative outlets, and that's part of the fun and freedom of fan culture. However, when it comes to representation in canon material, it's crucial not to impose personal viewpoints onto characters solely for the sake of recognition. While it's acceptable to explore different interpretations in fan works, it's essential to respect the original portrayal of characters, particularly regarding their sexuality.

Reflecting on my own feelings on this matter, I've realized that I don't necessarily take issue with individuals changing the sexual orientation of straight characters in fanfiction. However, I become uncomfortable when there's an attempt to forcefully alter the canonical identity of a character. This discomfort arises from a sense that being straight is portrayed as incorrect or undesirable. This realization has deepened my empathy for the struggles faced by members of the LGBTQ+ community in seeking authentic representation in media.

This also brings me to the main point – the same principle applies to ace individuals when the community tries to forcefully change a character's sexuality, refusing to acknowledge their ace identity as portrayed in the show. Finally, ace individuals have a character to look up to who is even quite popular, only to see that representation invalidated or ignored because some people refuse to accept it – essentially, refusing to see them.

This kind of rejection can make ace individuals feel as though they need to conform to certain expectations in order to be considered "interesting" or "popular," just like Alastor. It's confusing and disheartening to see a character's identity denied or dismissed, especially when it's a rare instance of representation that could provide validation and visibility for ace individuals.

It would be VERY confusing for me, making me feel like, despite getting represented, I would not be enough.

I'd like to take a moment to clarify that while I enjoy engaging in fan works involving Alastor - some even portraying him romantically or sexually with another character, I wouldn't want him to be portrayed differently in the series. Changing his character in the serie itself in such a fundamental way would completely ruin the essence of who he is for me, much like what happened with characters such as Wednesday, Sherlock, or Loki. Despite my love for these characters, I felt that some of them should have remained as they were without delving into romantic or sexual storylines, as it would feel out of place, just as it would feel strange to me if Alastor suddenly showed romantic or sexual interest in anyone.

It's important to recognize that enjoying fan works doesn't necessarily mean wanting to alter the original outcome of the show or the character themselves. Sometimes, it's just for fun, without any deeper implications.

I don't have a definitive conclusion or a perfect solution to make everything peaceful – I'm not sure such a thing even exists. However, I believe that listening to each other and trying to understand one another, despite our differences, is crucial. I can only imagine how deeply hurtful it must be for ace individuals to see so much fan art of Alastor that conflicts with his established sexual orientation, but recognizing it as people having fun and drawing a line between canon and fanon is as important as it is for those who engage in such content to understand why ace individuals might feel upset about it, and to recognize that their feelings are just as valid.

We need to communicate with each other respectfully and without hostility.

I'm open to listening to anyone who might feel offended by anything I've written here – my goal in sharing these thoughts is simply to foster understanding and empathy. I never wanted to hurt anyone with my words, sorry in advance if someone feels triggered because of this.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor aroace #aromantic #asexual #aroace #alastor the radio demon

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 28 days ago

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By: Benjamin Ryan

Published: Oct 24, 2024

[ That’s a quote from a talk that pediatric gender medicine doctor Johanna Olson-Kennedy gave in which she was dismissing concerns about young people potentially regretting getting double mastectomies for a gender transition. ]

Some of the biggest names in the pediatric gender medicine field are part of an entrenched global trend in which they prioritize the transgender advocacy mission over honest and direct science. They hide inconvenient research findings. And they seek to prevent other researchers from even asking questions that might yield inconvenient answers. Supporting them is a cabal of activists and LGBTQ nonprofits standing at the ready to bully and cancel any scientists or journalists who might bring to light any of the more questionable aspects of pediatric gender medicine.

This pattern is not just limited to Children’s Hospital Los Angeles’ Dr. Johanna Olson-Kennedy. If you haven’t already heard, according to reporting in The New York Times, this major leader in the pediatric gender medicine field has been sitting on null findings from her National Institutes of Health–funded study of puberty blockers for gender dysphoric children because, she said, publishing them would prove politically inexpedient. (I wrote about an undercover video of her talking about mastectomies here.)

Where have we heard this story before?

Let’s take a trip across the pond to the British National Health Service’s now-shuttered pediatric gender clinic, GIDS. (I encourage you to read all about this troubled clinic in Hannah Barnes’ book Time to Think. Make sure to get the new 2024 U.S. paperback, which has a vital new epilogue.) After it was founded in 2011, GIDS’s leaders sought to recreate the findings of the original Dutch protocol that was first cultivated in the mid-1990s and that ultimately gave rise to the global pediatric gender-transition treatment movement during the 2000s and 2010s.

But the British team failed. They did not find a substantial benefit from providing puberty blockers to gender dysphoric children by following the Dutch protocol. So did these researchers alert the world to their troublesome findings? Did they send a word of caution to a field that by then was circumnavigating the globe, setting up what would soon be hundreds of pediatric gender-clinic outposts?

No, they kept their failure secret.

It wasn’t until Oxford sociologist Michael Biggs became suspicious and ultimately rooted out the truth that the GIDS clinicians finally owned up and published their failed study.

Also in England, the NHS’s Cass Review, which was published in April after a four-year effort to assess pediatric gender medicine at home and worldwide, sought to assess the long-term outcomes of the wider population of former GIDS patients. But the adult NHS gender clinics refused to share their de-identified data on those now-adult patients, providing only specious reasons for their refusal.

Now it seems as if the NHS will ultimately force them to do so. But for now, the world is poorer for not having that data. Because this entire field is compromised by a woeful lack of long-term data, in particular about the more recent cohorts of gender-dysphoric adolescents who have undergone gender-transition treatment, and whose profiles are vastly different from those kids who entered the original Dutch study.

After the Cass Review came out, activists went into overdrive to tell wild falsehoods about it, as I reported at the time. Hilary Cass, the pediatrician lead author of the report, was appalled, and told a reporter that those activists were harming children.

There are also plenty of examples of academics being discouraged from even asking research questions that might lead to an answer that would prove inconvenient for the pediatric gender medicine movement. Take, for example, the trio starting a long-term study to assess whether rapid-onset gender dysphoria is a true phenomenon. These three seasoned investigators have had to self-fund their research and are subject to persistent derision and scorn by trans activists for daring to ask difficult questions about this medical field and about the reasons for the recent surge in trans identification in natal girl adolescents in particular.

One of those three investigators, physician-researcher Dr. Lisa Littman, spoke to me for my article on The Trans Tipping Point in the New York Post. She said of the activists who attack her: “It’s as if their loyalty is to the transition interventions and not to the long-term health and well-being of transgender-identified young people.”

Here’s another example. When UCL neuropsychologist Sallie Baxendale sought to obtain peer review for her review paper about what scientists know—and don’t know—about the neuropsychiatric impacts of puberty blockers, here was what happened, according to what she wrote in Unherd:

None of the reviewers identified any studies that I had missed that demonstrated safe and reversible impacts of puberty blockers on cognitive development, or presented any evidence contrary to my conclusions that the work just hasn’t been done. However, one suggested the evidence may be out there, it just hadn’t been published. They suggested that I trawl through non-peer reviewed conference presentations to look for unpublished studies that might tell a more positive story. The reviewer appeared to be under the naïve apprehension that studies proving that puberty blockers were safe and effective would have difficulty being published. The very low quality of studies in this field, and the positive spin on any results reported by gender clinicians suggest that this is unlikely to be the case. Another reviewer expressed concerns that publishing the conclusions from these studies risked stigmatising an already stigmatised group. A third suggested that I should focus on the positive things that puberty blockers could do, while a fourth suggested there was no point in publishing a review when there wasn’t enough literature to review. Another sought to diminish an entire field of neuroscience that has established puberty as a critical period of brain development as “my view”.

Dr. Baxendale ultimately published her vital review paper, which concluded: “Critical questions remain unanswered regarding the nature, extent and permanence of any arrested development of cognitive function associated with puberty blockers. The impact of puberal suppression on measures of neuropsychological function is an urgent research priority.”

Meanwhile, the American Academy of Pediatrics has assured the public in its 2018 policy statement on the gender-affirming care method that puberty blockers are “reversible.” Twenty Republican attorneys general recently sent a stern, probing letter to the AAP, suggesting that that claim, which they assert is false, violates consumer protection laws. A lawsuit is likely imminent. The AAP is already being sued by a detransitioner over the statement. The original legal complaint lambasts the AAP for never responding to Canadian sex researcher James Cantor’s scathing fact check and critique he published of the policy statement in 2019.

Personally, I don’t think the claim that puberty blockers are reversible is definitively false, given what science is able to tell us at this time. But on the flip side, we also know that it is not definitely true either. As Dr. Baxendale’s paper demonstrates, there remain too many substantive and unanswered questions about how using drugs that throw vital human development processes out of synch might impact a young person, possibly for the rest of their lives.

The AAP announced in August 2023 that it was going to conduct a systematic literature review of the evidence behind pediatric gender medicine—and then never said another word about it. The authors of such reviews are expected to publish their methodology in advance, and the there is no sign that the AAP has done so.

Then there’s the World Professional Association for Transgender Health, or WPATH, which as the Alabama attorney general’s subpoenas have revealed and Jesse Singal reported for The Economist in June, suppressed systematic literature reviews about this field that it commissioned from Johns Hopkins. And after a Biden Health official and the AAP strong armed WPATH into removing the age restrictions on gender-transition treatment and surgeries in the update to its trans-care guidelines in 2022, WPATH president Dr. Marci Bowers coordinated for the leadership to lie about why they had done so. All of this is detailed in scathing, unsparing detail in the Alabama AG’s amicus brief to the Supreme Court, which argues that the court should uphold Tennessee’s law banning pediatric gender-transition treatment.

And in the wake of today’s news about Dr. Olson-Kennedy, we have an example of yet another front in this battle over pediatric medicine: the sheer denial and deflection coming from transgender activist Ari Drennen of Media Matters and the LGBTQ “media watchdog” GLAAD. As you can see from the tweet below, all they could do in the face of such a damning report was deflect.

This makes me wonder: What exactly is GLAAD’s endgame? This is the same nonprofit that had the temerity to condescend to the New York Times last year and falsely claim that the “science is settled” on pediatric medicine with their protest truck they drove around the Times building in Midtown Manhattan.

The science is, of course, not settled. No science is. It is always evolving, in particular in this tempestuous and troubled field of pediatric gender medicine. And there are many people in this wider movement who are seeking to suppress the full, ever-changing truth from coming to light.

At the center of this story is a burgeoning population of very troubled children. They are owed the best science possible. They are owed the truth, whatever that might be.

I previously posted about Olsen-Kennedy's tone-deaf endorsement of medical mutilation.

Imagine a medical study of a cancer treatment that was found to be ineffective, which was then covered up. Why would a report about that coverup need to quote people who had had cancer? These fanatics think we're stupid.

People wonder why the trust in our institutions is so low. It's because they keep producing this kind of fraud, which isn't science any more than Intelligent Design is science.

When the devoutly Christian John Templeton Foundation funded a study on intercessory prayer, they were forced to publish it, even though it found that it was ineffective. Or worse.

Conclusions Intercessory prayer itself had no effect on complication-free recovery from CABG, but certainty of receiving intercessory prayer was associated with a higher incidence of complications.

These genderists are doing religious proselytization.

#Benjamin Ryan #Johanna Olsen Kennedy #medical scandal #medical corruption #medical malpractice #fraud #medical fraud #scientific fraud #this is not science #science #gender affirming care #gender affirming healthcare #gender affirmation #academic corruption #religion is a mental illness

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thesimulationswarm · 1 year ago

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Balsam, Chapter 5: Mountain Chickadee

This is a story about trauma. What trauma does to a person, and what trauma does to a community. And how, in the midst of it, people find their way to joy, delight— even love.

Pairing: Joel Miller x original female character Summary: After the events of tlou, Joel and Ellie try to establish a “normal life” in Jackson, but neither of them are any good at normal. A town doctor tries to care for residents who have experienced unspeakable trauma, and struggles to overcome her own past at the same time. Joel finds himself drawn to her, as their lives become increasingly intertwined. Meanwhile, outside Jackson, troubling things are happening… Rating: explicit 18+ MDNI Wordcount: 5.5k Warnings: some problematic language around race/ethnicity that would be expected from characters whose understanding of social justice stopped in 2003, condomless PIV sex, v brief mention of infertility, angst, trauma/PTSD symptoms, painful adolescent social dynamics, LGBTQ issues, the Miller clan trying to figure out how to be a family, Joel struggling with getting old

Series Masterlist

It was 6 AM and Ellie was sitting in the dark, looking out the front windows, as Joel’s figure disappeared down the street. The faintest light was coloring the sky to the east and starting to extinguish the smaller stars. She’d been curled up there for a long time, feeling the chill radiate through the pane of glass, her eyes adjusting to the lack of light. There were a surprising amount of animals out there as the dawn started to break— rabbits, squirrels, little birds. She saw how they stilled suddenly when Joel walked by.

She could imagine how the little animals felt, holding themselves like statues, tiny hearts twitching furiously against their ribs. Not daring to breathe until the threat disappeared around the bend in the road.

She hadn’t gone downstairs to say goodbye, and she wasn’t even sure why. Maybe just that she didn’t want him to know she was awake still, didn’t want him to worry. He’d stuck his head in around midnight and told her to stop reading and go to sleep. He’d fallen asleep on the couch for a while after dinner, and his hair had been a wild, off-kilter mess. Standing there like that, bleary-eyed, in a ratty pair of sweatpants and t-shirt, made him look different— older, more…domestic. Like a hapless dad from a cheesy old movie.

He’d pointed at the creased paperback she was holding. Stephen King’s It, borrowed from the eccentric little Jackson Library.

“Sure you should be reading that before bed?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She gave him a hard look.

“’S just— I’ve never read it, but it’s pretty scary, ain’t it? And you’ve been havin’ trouble sleeping…”

Ellie raised her eyebrows and flipped to the copyright page. “It’s from 1986. It’s about an evil clown. Not exactly the kind of thing that haunts people’s dreams these days.” It was true— the book felt quaint, almost cozy. Hard to imagine what it would be like to live in a small town in Maine and run around with a band of misfit kids. The guy who wrote it thought he was pointing out how everything had a dark underbelly, but a dark underbelly sounded pretty fucking good to her. She was used to towns that were just plain dark.

But Joel looked skeptical. She could see the pinched anxiousness in his eyes, and it made her squirm. She didn’t want him to feel guilty. She didn’t want him to think she was sick or fucked up or weak, and she didn’t want him to pity her.

She’d sighed, tossed the book aside, and turned off her lamp. Curled on her bed, turning her back to Joel.

But she didn’t sleep. Not because of It, but because she was sick of nightmares. She’d had nightmares her whole life, but over the past year or so they’d only gotten worse. There were just more and more things to have nightmares about. Recently, it was like some kind of switch had been flipped in her head, and the only dreams she was allowed to have were nightmares. She felt weird and sad about Brandy and Chuy, but that wasn’t it, really. Maybe that had just been enough to tip her over the edge.

She worked so fucking hard not to think about her bad memories. Not to talk about her bad memories or to acknowledge them in any way. But as soon as her higher brain shut off, they were set free, and she had nowhere to hide. Nothing she could do except stay up as much as possible, until her body ached and her eyes felt gritty and raw. Until, eventually, the dark tide of unconsciousness overpowered her. And hopefully by then she would be too exhausted to even dream.

The morning was pleasantly quiet, especially compared to Nina’s last patrol with Isaac. Joel had barely spoken a word to her as they packed their gear and tacked up the horses, but she was keenly aware of his presence. She watched him in her peripheral vision, appreciating how, despite the substantial shape of him, he moved with a sort of grace.

The sun was just rising above the hills when they road out of the gates, the horses huffing clouds of steam in the cold air. Joel was reserved but polite, following her lead when they hit territory that was unfamiliar to him. As they went deeper into the mountains and further from Jackson, she felt a tension melting away that she’d only been partially cognizant of.

She needed Jackson. The life she had now would not be possible anywhere else. And yet, she was trapped there. Dependent on it, and on its people. She’d lived in other places and in other ways before, and it wasn’t something she wanted to experience again— ever.

That left her vulnerable in a dizzying, sickening way. And instead of doing what the other, sensible people of Jackson seemed to do— instead of leaning into it, letting herself soften into that web of dependency— she chafed at it.

She’d wanted to lash out all week. At smug Linda Hayes, who looked at her like some kind of witch when she picked up supplies at the butcher shop. At chatty old Jack Auden, who came by her clinic to get a tonic for his sister, but clearly just wanted to check up on her, draw her out of something she didn’t particularly want to be drawn out of. At Brandy Burkholder, with her grating adolescent tough-girl posturing.

Her jaw hurt from clenching it shut, from the effort of fixing her face into something like neighborly politeness.

She’d even restrained herself from starting shit with Marisa Robinson, yesterday in the dining hall, when she’d ladled up a bowl of soup for her and then loosed a fat glob of spit right in it, before setting it roughly on her tray. The girl had stared right into her eyes the whole time, her message clear as day.

But Nina had just walked away, picked at the rest of her lunch, and gone back to her clinic.

She had no doubts anymore about who Starkey had been fucking. Which presented another problem— how to get Marisa treated for gonorrhea, when she wanted Nina’s head on a pike. Maybe when they got back she could talk to Maria, get her to have a heart to heart with the girl.

They stopped for food around noon in a sunny patch on the edge of a pine thicket. Nina watched Joel pace around, shaking out his stiff, cold limbs, before sitting down on a rock a few feet away from her. She passed him a packet of jerky and dried berries, and he nodded a thanks.

The sun was high now in a cloudless sky and the air was starting to warm her face. She leaned her head back and looked up at the wide expanse of blue, edged with scraggly tree tops. A round little bird darted from one branch to another and whistled a sweet, three-beat song.

“Mountain chickadee,” she said, pointing at the branches.

“Hmm?”

“They’re a good omen. At least according to the Shoshone.”

“Well, that’s good, I guess.” Joel paused, chewing the tough meat. “Is that what you are? Shoshone?”

She couldn’t help it— she burst out laughing. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his expression darkening. “None of my business.”

“No, no,” she said. “I don’t mind. But that’s the wrong kind of Indian. I’m the dot kind, not the feather.” She took a sip from her canteen. “At least my mom was. My dad was Irish Catholic.”

Joel nodded slowly. “I’m half too. Dad was white, but my mama was born in Mexico. Michoacán.” He looked at Nina and didn’t exactly smile, but he stopped frowning for a moment.

“You and Tommy have the same problem I do. White name, brown face.”

She studied him for a moment, appreciating the warm, deep eyes and strong nose. The rough, wary good looks. He was watching her, with that simmering intensity he had, and she had a sudden urge to run her hand through his untidy curls.

She had a feeling he would let her.

But they had a long day’s ride ahead. Maria’s face flashed in front of her, that warning look she’d given her when Joel had agreed to come on this trip. She knew her friend worried about her taste in men. And she knew Tommy’s brother had a reputation--irascible, violent, unfriendly Joel Miller. The kind of guy she shouldn’t be drawn to, and yet always, despite her best judgement, was.

“I found a book about Shoshone beliefs a while back, on the old University of Eastern Colorado campus.” When she mentioned the campus, Joel’s brow furrowed. “It was full of details on the traditional medicines they used, which was huge for me. It’s not always easy to get medical supplies around here, as you might have noticed.”

“You’ve been to the university?”

She nodded. “I came up through there, when I first came to Jackson.”

He looked down and shook his head. “Pretty rough area.”

“Believe it or not, it used to be worse. I heard that after the Fireflies arrived they cleaned things up a bit.”

Joel stood up abruptly and wiped his hands on his jeans. “We better get movin’ again.”

Tommy watched Maria’s strong fingers gliding expertly over the deck of cards. She riffled, she bridged, she did a series of rapid overhand shuffles with a percussive flourish, all while barely glancing at the movements of her hands. The way she handled the cards reminded him of guys he’d known as a teenager, the sort of macho shit they pulled down in Burnet, Texas, to impress the girls. The sort of shit he’d tried to pull, sometimes successfully and sometimes not— shooting coke cans, throwing knives, hitting the baseball out of the park.

Maria, though— she was the real deal. That finesse wasn’t an act, and neither was her toughness. And instead of impressing Dee Ann Schaefer after homecoming, she was impressing him and Ellie.

The girl’s eyes were sparkling as she followed Maria’s moves. He could practically see the gears turning in her head, and he had no doubt she’d be asking to practice with the card deck tomorrow.

Good.

She needed something to do other than mope around in her bedroom all day. She hadn’t wanted to go to the dining hall for a single meal today, instead opting to hang back and read some old X-men comics that Tommy had scavenged. Maria’d made her promise she would eat something at home, but there was only a single empty can of pears in the sink when they came back after dinner.

Joel’d warned him that she wasn’t doing so great, but he’d been too distracted by everything going on lately to pay it much mind. She’d seemed a little quieter than usual when he saw her around town, and apparently she’d stopped hanging out with the other kids. Some kind of falling out.

But now he could see there was more going on than just that. Ellie had lost a few pounds and was walking around with dark circles under her eyes. It reminded him of when she and Joel first came back to Jackson. He knew only the rough outlines of what had happened out there, but what he knew was awful. And it made him feel terribly guilty, knowing he’d sent Joel out there with the her all alone.

“Kids really didn’t play poker in Boston?” Maria raised her brows as she began to deal.

Ellie shook her head. “I’ve heard about it. But all we ever played at FEDRA school was euchre.”

“Euchre?!” Tommy almost spit out his drink, and a wide smile cracked across Maria’s face.

“What’s the matter with euchre?” Ellie fixed them both with an indignant stare, as Tommy choked back a laugh.

“Sorry, kid. It’s just— my gramma played euchre. Never knew it to be popular with young folks.”

Ellie rolled her eyes at him. “Sorry we weren’t cool enough for you.”

“No, it makes sense,” Maria said with a thoughtful nod. “You probably never had a full deck of cards, did you?” Ellie shook her head no. “They’re surprisingly hard to come by.” She looked down fondly at her yellowed old deck. They were classic red Bicycle cards, the kind with naked cherubs riding down the backs, and Maria was very protective of them.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Tommy felt like he’d missed something.

Now it was Maria’s turn to roll her eyes at him. “If you’d ever payed attention to your grandmother, Tommy, you’d know you only need half a deck to play euchre.” She gave him a fond smile, reaching out to run a hand through his curls. “With a marker and a little creativity, you could use any random set of 26 cards.”

He smiled at her back, getting lost for a second in her rich dark eyes. She was so much smarter than him it wasn’t even funny, but she didn’t seem to mind. I’ve known a lot of men who couldn’t handle a smart, strong woman, she’d told him once. But you don’t have a problem with it. I love that about you.

The doorbell rang while Maria was in the middle of a discussion of which hand beats which. Tommy got up to answer it, not wanting to interrupt the two of them.

He wouldn’t have noticed the path if Nina hadn’t shown him. It was narrow and unmarked, and blocked from the road by strategically placed brush. They carefully arranged the boughs behind them to hide the path again, and walked their horses single file, below the low branches, into the darkening woods. The little A-frame cabin was about a mile in, down a rocky ravine and back up to another ridge.

Nina swung the door open. “It’s probably not wise to make a fire this close to the road, but we’ll be out of the wind at least. The loft is rotten so we’ll have to stay down here.”

Joel looked around at the room, small but clean, with an ancient four-post bed on one end and an enamel wash basin on the another. A pile of heavy blankets was heaped on the floor. “I’ve slept in worse, that’s for sure. I’ll take the floor.”

She looked at him and cocked an eyebrow. “No you won’t, old man. I’ve seen how stiff you are when you get up in the morning after a night on the ground.”

He winced at the ‘old man’ comment, even as he knew it was true— his body wasn’t what it used to be, and she’d certainly feel the effects of the floor much less than he would. But he didn’t think his pride would let him sleep on a mattress while Nina curled up on the floorboards. He paused, still standing by the doorway.

“Look,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “If I was a guy, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. If you’d let Tommy take the floor, there’s no reason not to let me.”

She was right, but he didn’t like it. And he felt embarrassingly disappointed to hear her call him out for his age. Jesus, what did he expect? Like she wasn’t gonna notice he was pushing sixty.

He exhaled heavily, took a few steps forward, and threw his pack down on the bed. “Suit yourself,” he huffed. If she wanted to treat him like an old man, then fine— he’d at least enjoy a night in a bed after a long day’s ride.

Ellie didn’t want to talk to Chuy, but Maria wasn’t budging. She put down the deck of cards and refused to go on with their game until Ellie at least went to the door and thanked him for coming by. As if that was something people actually did. Maybe in nineteen forty or whenever the fuck she’d grown up.

Chuy looked a little awkward, standing on the front stoop with Coco, talking to Tommy. His dark hair flopped over one eye.

“Hi Ellie,” he greeted her with a small smile.

“Hey,” she offered. Her voice sounded weird to her ears. She didn’t know what to do with herself, so she knelt down to rub Coco’s head, scratching the soft fur behind her ears.

“Do you wanna come out for a little walk? It’s a full moon tonight.”

“Uh, sure.” She tried to look casual as she stood, shoving her hands in the pockets of her hoodie. She wasn’t sure why Chuy was here, and the whole thing was making her feel very weird. But part of her was happy to see him, in spite of herself. She’d enjoyed having friends for, like, three weeks.

“Good to see ya, Jesús, “ Tommy said, giving Chuy a pat on the shoulder before he turned back inside. “Ya’ll don’t stay out too late.”

As the door closed behind her, Ellie raised her eyebrows. “Jesús?”

“It’s my full name. Usually just go by Chuy for short.” They fell into step beside each other, walking down the walk and into the empty street.

“In what world is Chuy short for Jesús?”

“Same world where Billy is short for William and Jack is short for John.”

“Okay, that’s a good point.” Something about walking side by side was making things easier. She didn’t have to look at him, for one, and it was much less awkward that way. And when they both fell quiet, she could occupy herself looking at the stars and the luscious silver disk of the moon. They walked a few blocks without talking, just listening to the rhythmic brush of their shoes on concrete.

Coco found a particularly interesting-smelling bush, and they stopped for a minute to let her sniff around it.

“We’ve missed you at the barn,” Chuy said cautiously, turning to look at her face. Ellie looked down at the ground, rocking her weight back and forth on the thin soles of her shoes.

“I’ve just been busy.”

“That’s fine. But you can come by any time you’re free, you know?”

“Mmhmm,” she replied noncommittally.

After a few moments of silence, Chuy spoke again.

“I’m really sorry.”

Ellie turned toward him, startled. “What do you mean?” Her voice came out sharper than she intended, and it was Chuy’s turn to look away.

“Maybe I’m wrong, but… I guess you know that Brandy and I…” He trailed off.

“Yeah, so?” Ellie gave her best impression of nonchalance. Her heart was pounding against her chest, and she had a fleeting urge to just take off running into the night.

“Well, you like her, don’t you?” He must’ve seen the panic in her face, because he quickly added, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell her. Or anyone else, I promise.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and slowly let out her breath. Fuck.

“Was I that obvious?”

Chuy shook his head emphatically. “No, not at all! It was just because I felt the same way about her, you know? You looked at her the same way I did.”

They were both silent for a moment, then Chuy laughed. “Holy shit, I’m so relieved I was right. This would’ve been so weird if I was wrong.”

“Oh, you think this isn’t weird? Because this is pretty fucking weird for me.” Her heart still felt like it wanted to leap out of her throat, but she found herself smiling at Chuy. Grateful to him for being so chillabout this.

But, god— would he really not tell anyone? Her smile faltered.

“Hey, um, I actually haven’t told anyone... about me. So please don’t say anything, okay?” She looked at him pleadingly, biting into the skin of her bottom lip.

“Of course not.” His voice was soft and sincere.

She looked up at the sky again, feeling the cold wind brush the hair back from her face, watching a thin stream of clouds blow gauzily over the moon. The relief crackled through her like an electric current.

When Joel closed his eyes, he felt like he was still swaying on top of the horse. He lay there, warm under the wool blankets, waiting for his exhausted body to give into sleep. But it wasn’t coming.

He felt like an idiot. Nina’s voice echoed in his head: old man, old man, old man. Yes, he was old, and getting older. His body never let him forget it anymore— stiff joints, spasming muscles, bone-deep aches when the weather changed. Those spells he got sometimes, when his ears rang and his breath stopped and it felt like his heart was gonna fucking explode. He should probably ask Nina about those episodes, but he’d rather swallow glass than admit to her how feeble he got sometimes. Not that she couldn’t see for herself.

She could see just fine. Old man, old man, old man. And what was he thinking coming on this trip? He’d had some good reasons to do this, but there had been a lot of good reasons not to.

After Nina mentioned the University of Eastern Colorado, he’d been dogged by unwanted thoughts as they rode into the woods: visions of being shanked and the religious nut jobs and Ellie running hard across the bloody snow. The drive of his knife through skin and sinew, the frantic fear that he would always be too late to save her. As much as he bristled at being trapped in Jackson, at least he could keep an eye on her and do what he could to keep her safe. Now he was a full day’s ride away, and soon he’d be further still— the furthest he’d been from her since that day in the QZ when Marlene had talked Tess and him into smuggling the girl. What felt like a lifetime ago, in a whole other world.

He had to remind himself that Jackson was safe and that Ellie was in good hands with Tommy. She’d be just fine when he came back, aside from her attitude and her foul mouth. Which weren’t likely to change any time soon.

He shifted around, adjusted his pillow, sighed heavily.

He tried not to think about Nina lying a few yards away, and what he’d dreamed about the last time they slept in a room together. He felt a heavy pulse of blood in his groin, at nothing more than the memory. Well, at least his dick still worked right.

He could hear her breathing, turning occasionally as she tried to get comfortable on the floor. He felt like an asshole for letting her sleep there, although he also would have felt like an asshole for insisting on giving her the bed. Goddamn her.

He heard her shift again, then the rustling of blankets falling to the floor. Then the creaking of floorboards.

She was getting up.

He sat up halfway, on alert, tilting his head to angle his good ear toward the window. Had she heard something or noticed something he hadn’t?

His rifle was within reach, and his arm slid silently across the bed toward the wall where it rested. It was dark, but he could see her remarkably clearly by the moonlight coming through the windows.

His heart was beating in his throat as she walked toward the bed and stood beside him.

“What—what is it?” he stuttered in a whisper, confused.

“Can I?” She asked, as she leaned down, pulling on the hem of his blanket. At first he thought, dumbly, that she’d changed her mind about taking the floor. Then she pressed her palms against his chest and gently eased him back down into the mattress. She slid under the blanket, moving her body top of his, until she was straddling his legs.

Oh.

“Yes,” he breathed, and she dipped her head down toward his.

It was so much like his dream that he wandered briefly if he’d fallen asleep. But no, he could feel every little thing too acutely: the scratch of the wool covers moving across his skin, the salty taste of dried sweat as he pressed his lips against hers.

They started out tentative. He sampled her soft lips and gently parted them with the tip of his tongue. She tasted like the baking soda she used to brush her teeth, like salt, like something animal and wild. She tasted good.

His hands had moved up to cradle her face. The cut of jawbone, the whorl of ear against his palm. There was something teetering inside him, a thread perilously close to breaking. All the want he’d been holding in around her, tamping down, was rising up. He felt like he might snap.

He dropped his hands, ran them down the dip of her waist and the wide flare of her hips. Dragged her body up against his until her strong thighs were split open above his groin and his hardening cock could find friction on her. She felt him and rutted forward, moaning softly into his mouth.

Not enough. He flipped her over, his weight spreading her legs wider and pressing her down into the old mattress. His hand snaked up below her sweater and skated across belly, ribs, and there— the soft mound of a breast filling his palm, and she was arching into him, groaning.

“Joel,” she moaned against his ear as he slid rough kisses down her neck. Her voice shook something loose, the nagging thought in the back of his mind— Why the fuck was she doing this?

He broke himself away and sat up on his knees. His chest heaved as he looked down at her. His eyes traced the soft curves of her splayed body. Her words echoed in his head again: old man.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“I’m sure, Joel.” She sat up a bit, propping herself on her elbows to look at him. It was dark, but not too dark to see her expression: eyes narrowed, studying him. She looked, like she usually did, fully in command of herself.

“Are you sure?”

He almost laughed. He wanted to say, I’ve been sure from the moment I first saw you. He didn’t say anything though, just slid down onto his belly between her legs. He nuzzled his face against the fabric of her pants as he started to unfasten them, and she gamely lifted her hips to help.

And—fuck—her underwear was drenched, her arousal turning the pale fabric translucent. He rubbed his finger along the cloth, tracing the dark shape of her cunt underneath. She mewled, pushing herself against his hand. Then he was yanking the underwear roughly, scraping them down her thighs and away.

She tasted amazing there, too— like he knew she would. Sweet and musky, with that electric tang that always reminded him of licking a 9-volt.

She gave him instructions— right there, harder, again, faster— and he complied. He liked a woman who knew what she wanted. And she wanted this, he could tell, as she gripped his hair harder and her thighs shook against him. He worked his jaw frantically, trying to get it right for her. He needed to make her feel good.

When she finally came she called out his name. He slowed down but kept going as she shuddered, coming apart underneath him, until finally she pulled him away from her over-sensitized clit.

He rose up and she grabbed his face to hers. She licked her juices hungrily from his lips and chin, her breath fast and hot against his skin.

“Baby,” he said, running his hands through her thick curls. “I want you so bad.”

She grabbed the waistband of his jeans and peeled down his fly, pulling him loose from his boxers. He was painfully hard, desperate to be touched. And she obliged. When she wrapped a hand around him, he couldn’t help thrusting into her grip, feeling the shuddering relief of her palm stroking down his length.

“I can’t get pregnant. In case you were worried about that.”

He stared at her for a second. Actually, he hadn’t been thinking about it at all, although he should’ve fucking been. He had a sudden flash of how reckless he was being.

But there was no way, no goddamn way he was going to stop now.

He was pressing into her sweet cunt almost before he realized it, his hips drawn into her heat like a moth before a lightbulb. She was arching up to meet him there. Her muscles contracted snugly around him and, Jesus fucking Christ, it had been too long since he’d felt this.

“That’s it,” she breathed as she lifted her legs to bring him in even deeper. “Now fuck me.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He started out slow— he was too excited and he wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. Holding himself up on one arm, he looked down and watched how his cock slid beautifully in and out of her, the length of him glistening with her arousal. He looked at her face and saw she was watching too, the two of them mesmerized by the machinery of their bodies.

He grabbed her hand and pulled it down. “Touch yourself while I fuck you, baby.”

She obeyed, rubbing rhythmic circles against her clit. Biting her lip as she looked up at him.

She began whimpering with each thrust and he couldn’t hold back. He fucked her harder and faster and she lifted her legs even higher to accommodate him, driving him home.

He was getting there, and he knew he couldn’t hold back for long. “Nina, you feel so good. So fucking good,” he panted. He looked at her pleadingly, trying to will her to come again before he lost control completely.

“I want it, Joel,” she gritted out. “Come for me, baby. Don’t stop now.” She moved in tandem with him, snapping her hips up to meet each thrust.

That was it. He slammed against her roughly, faster and faster as he felt his orgasm bloom outward from the base of his spine. “Fuck, oh— oh baby,” he groaned and buried himself deep inside, the first pulse shooting out of him so hard it was almost painful.

“That’s it, yes, yes,” she moaned, rubbing herself even harder as she felt him throbbing against her.

When the waves of pleasure finally ebbed, he was spent, exhausted. But he held himself up by his shaky arms and stayed inside her, watching as she brought herself to orgasm. Watching how his come leaked out around him and slicked the tips of her fingers, as she circled them hard and fast against her swollen clit. He wanted to burn the image into his brain so he’d never forget.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he whispered hoarsely. “Make yourself come for me. That’s so fuckin’ beautiful.” He coaxed her until she let out a jagged cry and he felt her contracting around him.

He collapsed down to the mattress and pulled him to her, wrapping his arms around her soft body.

Nina sat up straight, spine long, feeling the smooth slide of her horse’s gait as they moved through the woods. Watery morning light slanted through the branches, catching on clusters of new green leaves. She felt fucking amazing. Better than she had in a long time.

This was their forth day on the road, and she and Joel had been going at each other madly for the past three. Her cunt ached with it, pressed against the hard leather of her saddle. She knew she would enjoy Joel, but she had not anticipated how much. How enthusiastic he would be, and how focused on her pleasure. Doing things like eating her out on a bed of pine needles, on the forest floor, during their lunch break. He’d barely climbed off his horse before he was kneeling in front of her, licking a stripe hungrily down the denim that covered her crotch, unfastening the button at her waist. And she’d felt herself already soaking through her panties as she looked down at his dark unkempt curls, buried between her thighs. They had found a rhythm with each other that undeniably worked.

When she dissociated, she left her body. In sex like this, she became her body. Today, she was here. She was alive to the world. She knew it wouldn’t last forever— it never did— but for now she basked in it.

When they weren’t fucking, he was just as quiet as he ever was. He was a man of extremes— taciturn and careful as he groomed his horse, built a fire, hunted a rabbit for their dinner. Then whispering sweet filth in her ear as soon as they’d crawled into a shared sleeping bag. And that was just fine with her. She wasn’t looking for attachment.

Even without attachment, things could get complicated, she knew. Tonight they’d be in Lava Hot Springs, with Mo and his men. An excess of men— men with guns, men with knives, men with pride and schemes and swinging dicks. She was acutely aware of the danger in this. Of the danger in taking her current lover along for protection, as she orchestrated a trade with her charming, amoral ex.

Taglist: @anoverwhelmingdin @blueseastorm @wannab-urs

#tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x original character #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #Ellie Williams #Tommy Miller #Maria Miller #tlou fluff #tlou show #tlou #tlou angst #tlou smut #the last of us

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antiproshipconfessions · 1 day ago

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(im defending you btw..)

Anti kink/porn like radfems

If you cant grasp the fact that paraphilias are much unhealthier than normal kinks and pornos so you have to cover it up as a kink, then you probably shouldnt be arguing and telling them they "really like arguing."

Your support for abuse survivors is conditional if they aren’t the perfect victim, they deserve to be told the equivalent of “you should’ve dressed differently, then you wouldn’t have been raped!”

We cant baby them all the time. We CAN criticize their coping mechanism. And if you hate that then you should probably leave them alone and stop using them as dolls for your debate

You like arguing

So do you. I mean, youre one of the proshippers that inbox hops and ALSO calls people you dont like pedophiles for no reason. Youre probably a pedophile, because of your shitty arguments. one thing they do is cover up their paraphilias as a "kink", constantly accuse young adolescent of being pedophiles because they thought of a kid once. Is that not arguing?

You like to call lgbtq+ people you don’t like “pedophiles” just like the alt right, fascists, TERFs/radfems and evangelicals

"protect queer individuals" Then they do this. Anyways, you guys try to "defend" your lolicon community when its like 90% of what they are. Transphobes, far rights, white christian "gamer" men too. I am queer and alot of the "homophobic and transphobic" antis are. Not every anti is a cishet white perisex male. While EVERY proshipper is a gay lesbian bisexual pansexual qieer POC ontersex. Consider that.

the actual definition and criteria of pedophilia are wrong so are psychologists and sexologists women who write bodice rippers and books with rape are groomers

I mean if you write a book about rape,then yeah, youre not a rapist. of you have fantasies ahout raping a child that does everything a child does depicting the body, voice, and exact behaviour of a child.

anon is using the exact same rhetoric as a pedophile. /nay (at the proshitter anon)

#anti lolicon #anti proship #anti proshitter #antiproshipconfessions

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justinspoliticalcorner · 5 months ago

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Ari Drennen at MMFA:

A New York Times article about the World Professional Association for Transgender Health’s 2022 standards of care draws on emails released by a psychologist who has compared homosexuality to pedophilia and reportedly worked on behalf of an extreme anti-LGBTQ group.

The Times piece, which claims that the Biden administration lobbied to remove explicit age limits from the guidelines, does not provide sufficient context on the psychologist's background or his reported work for Alliance Defending Freedom, a Project 2025 partner.

The article also uses outdated data to fearmonger about rising numbers of trans youth and again includes misinformation about transition care from elected officials with no fact-checking.

The Times report quotes email excerpts filed in a legal challenge to Alabama's ban on gender-affirming care from WPATH officials describing their interactions with Sarah Boateng, who then served as chief of staff to Adm. Rachel Levine, assistant secretary for health at the Department of Health and Human Services. Boateng argued at the time that listing specific age guidelines for transition surgeries would fuel more aggressive legislative efforts to ban them.

The Times states that “the excerpts were filed by James Cantor,” whom the paper describes simply as “a psychologist and longstanding critic of gender treatments for minors.”

Cantor frequently presents himself as an expert on gender-affirming medicine and has reportedly been retained as an expert by the states in favor of West Virginia’s ban on sports participation and restrictions on health care in Texas, Florida, and Alabama. In the Alabama trial at the center of the Times’ reporting, Cantor also appears to have worked on behalf of Project 2025 partner and extreme anti-LGBTQ organization the Alliance Defending Freedom – a detail excluded from the Times’ report.

[...]

Project 2025 is a comprehensive transition plan for the next GOP presidential administration. Its nearly 900-page policy book labels “the omnipresent propagation of transgender ideology and sexualization of children” as “pornography” that “should be outlawed” and states that “the people who produce and distribute it should be imprisoned.” The Alliance Defending Freedom, which also works to curtail access to abortion, is one of over 100 organizations that have endorsed the document, meant to serve as a blueprint for a second Trump administration.

Cantor has a troubling resume outside of his work alongside the Alliance Defending Freedom. He was previously removed from the state of Florida’s roster of “subject matter experts” on transition care after linking homosexuality to pedophilia and stating that sexual attraction to children is “not inherently wrong.” Cantor served as member of the advisory council for Prostagia, which has campaigned against bans on sex dolls resembling children and has hosted support groups for “minor attracted people” open to adults alongside people as young as 13. [...]

The Times also claims that “the numbers for all gender-related medical interventions for adolescents have been steadily rising as more young people seek such care.” But the data used to support this assertion ends in 2021, when many states began restricting or outlawing transition care, meaning those numbers may no longer be “rising.” The article also includes statements from Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis and Texas Gov. Greg Abbott characterizing transition surgeries as “disfiguring” and “genital mutilation,” respectively, with no fact-checking, a repeat of a pattern previously noted by Media Matters and GLAAD. Activists opposing female genital mutilation also say that the harmful practice should not be “hijacked for purposes to target and discriminate against vulnerable youth.” The Times story was updated after publication to remove the detail that Marci Bowers, president of WPATH, is herself a transgender woman. While the current version of the story states that Levine is also a transgender woman, it makes no note of the gender identity of Cantor, DeSantis, or Abbott.

Once again, the New York Times fails to properly note the anti-trans extremism of the subjects being covered on gender-affirming care issues, this time in a story discussing James Cantor in which NYT omitted his ties to anti-LGBTQ+ extremist group Alliance Defending Freedom.

#The New York Times #Gender Affirming Healthcare #Transgender Health #Transgender #Rachel Levine #Sarah Boateng #James Cantor #Alliance Defending Freedom #Project 2025 #Ron DeSantis #Greg Abbott #Marci Bowers #WPATH #Prostagia #Anti Trans Extremism #Criminalization of Trans Health

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fionabrennanartisttours · 5 months ago

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This charming book has a small chapter on same-sex relationships and tells of Georgian-period terminology (mostly regarding gay men and women, in that order!) and people of note. What the Georgians got up to is of interest to us here, as Dublin was a Georgian city and of course, the laws made in London during the Georgian period affected Ireland. Therefore, if you could be hanged for "sodomy" in England, you could be strung up in Ireland too.

But the book goes into the nuance of everyday life in the period versus what may be written in the law books. For example, in 1822, the Anglican Bishop of Clogher in Northern Ireland had been caught in the act with a guardsman - the Bishop was dismissed from his position, but from the public's point of view, he became a figure of fun and jokes. And so same-sex activity was "semi-known and semi-secret"; very serious and dangerous on one hand and part of the furniture and a source of amusement on the other.

Another hint at the Georgian's attitude toward queerness is the sheer number of terms used to refer to it! For the gay men we had "mollies", "back-gammon players" and "catamites" (a Classical reference to the mythologically handsome adolescent boy, whose beauty caused Zeus to steal him away to Olympus to serve him). For the lesbians we had "flats", "tommies" and "rubsters". In fact, it is semi-jokingly stated that lesbians did not exist before 1870, because the more euphemistic terms were in use instead!

These terms for same-sex love and identity shows an emergent social awareness for the LGBTQ community in the Georgian era. Albeit mostly for the L and the G!

And of course we know that lesbians existed in Ireland before 1870, just one example being "The Ladies of Llangollen", two upper-class ladies who lived together (with only one bed in the house!) for 50 years. While numerous Georgian ladies lived together as companions, Eleanor Butler and Sarah Ponsonby declared their loving relationship openly in upper-class society.

It seems that historical relevance and the holding of a powerful position in society both protected queer Georgians/Anglo-Irish aristocrats from punishment and encouraged historians to record their lives for our historical interests today. Therefore, there are no mention of everyday, "lower-class" Irish queers in this chapter of The Georgians. This is certainly a sad oversight in our LGBTQ+ history. But it's fun to read about 18th and 19th century queer people of note, especially the tommies and "female husbands" who I always picture dressed up like Gentleman Jack!

#queer history #queer dublin #lgbtq history #lgbtq ireland #dublin history #The Georgians

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bills-bible-basics · 2 months ago

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Gay and Lesbian Agenda Graphic 17 #LGBTQ #GayRights #Transgender Visit https://www.billkochman.com/Graphics-Library/ to see more. Last Updated: Sept. 14, 2024 Whether some of you realize it or not, our nation has been slip sliding away for literally decades. However, the slide has been so slow, so gradual, and so subtle, that it wasn't until about halfway through the decade of the 2010s that a lot of people really began to wake up to what has been going on. However, sadly, by that time, it was already too late. Serious damage had already been done, and the victory had already been won. What has been going on since then basically amounts to mopping up exercises and tying up the loose ends. And boy are they doing a good job of it! So exactly what am I talking about? Well, do you remember a few decades ago -- back in the 1970s, actually -- when the LGBTQ+ crowd began claiming that they just wanted to be left alone to live their lives as they please without harassment or discrimination? Fast-forward fifty years, and you will see one long history of continuous lies, as they aggressively advanced their radical, extreme agenda. Then came gender reassignment surgery. Then came renegade, liberal circuit court judges who repeatedly overturned the will of the people. Then came renegade, liberal state legislatures who likewise overturned the will of the people. Then came civil unions. Then on June 26, 2015 came nationwide legalization of same-sex "marriage" by mandate of the Supreme Court of the United States, despite the majority of the American people being opposed to it. Then came openly gay or lesbian bishops, pastors, priests, politicians, actors, sports figures, and everyone in between. Then came same-sex union blessings in some of the churches. Then came adoption of normal, healthy children by same-sex couples. Then came law suits against Christians and Conservatives who follow their hearts and their faith, and who oppose the LGBT lifestyle. Then came library books which openly promote the LGBT lifestyle. Then came gender-neutral bathrooms. Then came drag queens in our public schools during children's story hour. Then came teaching LGBT history in the classroom. Then came liberal parents who encourage their children to act and dress like the opposite sex. Then came hormone injections, puberty-blocking drugs in young children and double mastectomies on adolescent girls in order to alter their natural-born physiology so that they could appear outwardly the way that they were being made to feel inwardly by misguided adults and parents. Then came a gender-neutral option on birth certificates. Now they promote their ungodly lifestyle in every area of the entertainment and mass media industries where they possibly can, and constantly shove it in our faces. It is inescapable; unless one goes and lives in a cave. Now, in the latest news, according to an article in The Washington Times, some liberal-minded schools aren’t happy with just offering LGBTQ+ books in their school libraries. Now they want to FORCE young children with impressionable minds to read them, whether they like it or not. Yes, but of course, as they said, they just wanted to be left alone. Right? If you believe that nonsense, then you are seriously deceived! Thankfully, some parents are fighting back and taking it to the US Supreme Court. If the justices accept the case, let’s hope that the God-fearing justices on the bench will do what is right in the sight of God by giving these brave parents a victory. But concerning the LGBTQ+ agenda, well I say this: What about us? What about our right to live in a Bible-based, God-fearing society which honors and obeys God's natural order of things? How much longer will God endure this madness and rebellion against His holy Laws? When will His patience finally run out? When will His judgments begin to fall on the wicked who mock Him everyday, and who cast His Word to the ground? As the Apostle John wrote some two thousand years ago: "And‭ we know that we are of God, and the whole world lieth in wickedness." 1 John 5:19, KJV If John were alive today, oh how he would shudder! Article: "Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah: A Warning to Modern Society": https://www.billkochman.com/Articles/destruction-sodom-gomorrah-1.html Article: "Future of Same-Sex Marriage": https://www.billkochman.com/Articles/future-of-same-sex-marriage-01.html Article: "The Gay and Lesbian Agenda: To the Point!": https://www.billkochman.com/Articles/homosex1.html Article: "When Sin is No Longer a Sin": https://www.billkochman.com/Articles/whensin1.html Article: "Queen James Bible: Blasphemous Abomination Exposed!": https://www.billkochman.com/Articles/queen-james-bible-1.html "Homosexuality,Lesbianism, Bestiality, Transvestitism" KJV Bible Verse List: "https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/verse138.html Poetry regarding LGBTQ+ agenda: https://www.billkochman.com/Poetry/index.html#Gay-and-Lesbian-Agenda Graphics regarding LGBTQ+ agenda: https://www.billkochman.com/Graphics-Library/Gay-and-Lesbian-Agenda.html Non-BBB Article: The Gay Gene?": https://www.billkochman.com/Articles-Non-BBB/gaygene1.html Non-BBB Article: The Overhauling of Straight America": https://www.billkochman.com/Articles-Non-BBB/overhaul.html By the way, when we come to Jesus Christ and are reborn in the Spirit, the Scriptures make it very clear that we should undergo a spiritual and mental change in our lives, and that we should in fact become NEW CREATURES in Jesus Christ. We should NOT remain the same, living our same old life style, and living in our same old sins. That means that people who belong to the LGBTQ crowd should NOT continue practicing their sexual deviancy. Here is Scriptural proof: "God's Desire for Healing and Repentance" KJV Bible Verse List: https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/verse302.html "Old Man Versus New Man" KJV Bible Verse List: https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/verse165.html "Washed and Renewed Mind" KJV Bible Verse List: https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/verse071.html Article: "Don't Ever Underestimate Our Spiritual Enemy": https://www.billkochman.com/Articles/DontUnderestimateOurEnemy1.html https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/gay-and-lesbian-agenda-graphic-17/?feed_id=205999&Gay%20and%20Lesbian%20Agenda%20Graphic%2017

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haveyoureadthistransbook · 1 year ago

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A Queer and Pleasant Danger by Kate Bornstein

goodreads

A stunningly original memoir of a nice Jewish boy who joined the Church of Scientology and left twelve years later, ultimately transitioning to a woman. A few years later, she stopped calling herself a woman and became famous as a gender outlaw. Kate Bornstein—gender theorist, performance artist, author—is set to change lives with her compelling memoir. Wickedly funny and disarmingly honest, this is Bornstein's most intimate book yet, encompassing her early childhood and adolescence, college at Brown, a life in the theater, three marriages and fatherhood, the Scientology hierarchy, transsexual life, LGBTQ politics, and life on the road as a sought-after speaker.

Mod opinion: I've read it and it's fun. Kate's funny :)

#kate bornstein #a queer and pleasant danger #polls #trans lit #trans literature #trans books #lgbt lit #lgbt literature #lgbt books #nonfiction #own voices #trans woman #reposting this now bc i posted it on the wrong blog

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mademoiselle-red · 1 year ago

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Recently I’ve been thinking about how so many Chinese queer women I’ve known are (or were at some point in their life) also fujoshi / yaoi & BL novel fans. How online gay mlm romance with a heavy emphasis on erotica (with lots of fetishization problems —yes) written by women for women was such a cornerstone of the adolescent experience & queer identity formation for so many sinophone sapphics & queer girlies in my life (me included!)

I can only speculate on the reasons for this happening: 1) those were the only widely accessible non-literary stories about queer relationships available and widely marketed to sinophone women. 2) while many of the depictions of queer relationships were unrealistic, many of these books depicted and discussed homophobia, repression, self-acceptance, coming out to family in Chinese and in a Chinese cultural context. Personally, they helped me learn to express and discuss my queerness in Chinese in a natural and culturally relevant way. As a side note: as a native speaker, a lot of the Chinese-language resources found on western lgbtq advocacy sites use very clunky, awkward, and sometimes overly clinical language that otherizes rather than normalize queerness for native speakers. 3) for some queer women starting out on their self-acceptance journey / exploration, reading mlm stories created distance between herself and the subjects being discussed. She could relate to the distinctively queer feelings and issues depicted in the novel, but she did not have to include herself in them, yet.

#brain dump #some late night thoughts I had last night #after coming across an anti fujoshi anti Chinese BL blog in the TC fandom

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sapphicbookoftheday · 2 years ago

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Orpheus Girl by Brynne Rebele-Henry

Today's sapphic book of the day is Orpheus Girl by Brynne Rebele-Henry!

"CW: There are scenes in this book that depict self-harm, homophobia, transphobia, and violence against LGBTQ characters."

Summary: "In her debut novel, award-winning poet Brynne Rebele-Henry re-imagines the Orpheus myth as a love story between two teenage girls who are sent to conversion therapy after being caught together in an intimate moment.

Abandoned by a single mother she never knew, 16-year-old Raya—obsessed with ancient myths—lives with her grandmother in a small conservative Texas town. For years Raya has been forced to hide her feelings for her best friend and true love, Sarah. When the two are outed, they are sent to Friendly Saviors: a re-education camp meant to 'fix' them and make them heterosexual. Upon arrival, Raya vows to assume the mythic role of Orpheus to escape Friendly Saviors, and to return to the world of the living with her love—only becoming more determined after she, Sarah, and Friendly Saviors' other teen residents are subjected to abusive 'treatments' by the staff.

In a haunting voice reminiscent of Sylvia Plath, with the contemporary lyricism of David Levithan, Brynne Rebele-Henry weaves a powerful inversion of the Orpheus myth informed by the real-world truths of conversion therapy. Orpheus Girl is a mythic story of dysfunctional families, trauma, first love, heartbreak, and ultimately, the fierce adolescent resilience that has the power to triumph over darkness and ignorance."

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anonymousewrites · 11 months ago

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Adolescent Antichrist (Book 4) Chapter Eighteen

Father Figure! Lucifer x Teen! Reader

Chapter Eighteen: God is Real, but That’s Not Really Important

Summary: (Y/N) and Em reveal the truth to Leon, Marcel, Noa, and Olive.

(Y/N) steeled themselves before they walked out of Lux and into the street. They had left Lucifer to celebrate the return of his handsome face instead of the Devil face, skin, and wings. However, their troubles weren’t finished. They still had to speak to their friends. Leon, Marcel, Olive, and Noa had all experienced Lucifer’s mojo and seen (Y/N) use their abilities to help them. They needed the truth. They deserved it.

That being said, (Y/N) was terrified. After all, they’d never had to tell anyone before. Sure, they’d told Chloe and Amenadiel about their abilities, but they already knew that God and angels and demons existed. (Y/N)’s friends didn’t even know that. They’d have to tell them everything.

And deal with the fallout, they thought nervously (unhelpfully, too).

“Is everything alright, Birdie?” asked Em as (Y/N) stepped outside. She stood with the rest of the group, still patiently waiting. Or anxiously waiting. (Y/N) couldn’t tell.

“Dad’s got his face back,” said (Y/N), nodding.

“What do you mean his face?” said Marcel incredulously.

(Y/N) put up a hand. “How about we take this slowly?”

“What is happening?” asked Noa.

“You’re never this serious,” said Leon.

“I know,” said (Y/N). “But this…you need to take it seriously.”

“Tell us what’s going on, (Y/N),” said Olive.

(Y/N) shifted, and Em patted their arm supportively. “I’m here, too, Birdie. I’ve got you.”

“Thanks,” murmured (Y/N) before facing their friends properly. “Alright. I’ll tell you all. But before I do that, I need you all to know that this changes pretty much your whole outlook on existence.” Their friends’ eyes widened. “So if anyone wants to just go back to their life, go now.”

“What is this, the Matrix?” said Noa. They crossed their arms. “We’re your friends, (Y/N). You can tell us anything. We’re not scared.”

“Right. Whatever you’re dealing with, we’re here with you,” said Olive.

“Yeah!” said Marcel, and Leon nodded.

“We understand what you’re saying, but we wish to know.” Leon gestured to Lux. “And we’ve seen enough to know something is going on, more than we know. We can’t ignore it.”

(Y/N) nodded. “You’re right.”

“Go ahead. Tell them,” said Em encouragingly.

The LGBTQ+ Breakfast Club leaned forward, and (Y/N) squared their shoulders.

“God is real,” said (Y/N).

“…This is about religion?” asked Marcel.

Em sighed. “I mean, yeah, but they’re being serious.”

(Y/N) nodded. “God is real, but that’s not really important.”

“I mean, I think a lot of people would disagree,” said Em. “But they’re not wrong.”

“Okay, so…what is the important part? The crazy part?” asked Noa.

“My dad is Lucifer,” said (Y/N).

“We know that, so what—” Olive paused as she processed. “Oh.”

“He is the Devil? The Devil of the Bible?” said Leon, saying the truth out loud.

(Y/N) nodded. “He is.”

“Holy shit,” said Marcel.

“Unholy shit,” corrected Em unhelpfully.

“How-He’s on Earth. Isn’t he supposed to be in Hell? You know, ruling it and all that?” asked Noa in confusion. “That can’t be possible.”

“He left Hell,” said (Y/N). “He lives in LA, he runs Lux, he solves crimes with Chloe.” They folded their arms. “And that trance everyone was under in Lux was his ‘mojo,’ his abilities. People tell him their deepest desires.”

“Oh, so that’s why I was thinking about…” Olive trailed off, and her cheeks turned pink.

“Yeah,” confirmed Em.

“This is crazy,” said Marcel, staring at (Y/N).

“I know,” said (Y/N). “But can you handle more?”

“How much more can there be?” asked Leon. “You’ve already told us that the Devil walks the Earth.”

Em coughed awkwardly. “How do you feel about demons?”

The group stared.

“No way,” said Olive.

“Damn,” said Marcel in surprise.

“You’re a demon?” asked Leon.

Em nodded. “Uh, yeah.” They waited for a negative reaction, and (Y/N) shifted closer for support.

“How do you look our age?” asked Noa.

Em blinked. That was not what she had expected, but she supposed if they accepted that Lucifer was a Devil without fear, then they didn’t mind they were a demon. “I am your age.”

“So demons and Lucifer just…live in LA? Casually?” asked Marcel.

“Casually is…wrong,” said (Y/N).

“What the hell does that mean?” asked Olive.

“Do you guys want everything?” asked (Y/N).

“Yes,” said the entire group emphatically.

“Alright, then. Want to head up to the Penthouse to sit down? This is gonna take a while,” said (Y/N).

“Do we need drinks?” said Em cheerfully.

“Hot coco,” said (Y/N).

(Y/N) sat down and completed the circle of six on the floor of the penthouse. They held their hot chocolate tightly and glanced around.

“I’m surprised you guys are all taking this so well,” they admitted.

“I’m sure the shock will wear off soon,” said Olive brightly.

�� “But you’re our friend,” said Noa.

“And Lucifer has always been nice to us,” said Marcel. “And Em is our friend.”

“We have no reason to be angry or afraid,” said Leon. “Though I may be frustrated at not being informed earlier.” The others nodded.

(Y/N) let out a chuckle of relief. “As long as you guys aren’t trying to send us to Hell, I’m fine with a bit of shunning.”

“Please tell us that hasn’t happened,” said Noa, horrified.

Em coughed awkwardly.

“That didn’t happen to me,” said (Y/N).

“Yes, it did,” said Em.

“Oh, right, but that had more to with Dad,” said (Y/N).

“Alright, alright, whoa!” said Marcel. He held up a hand. “You guys are way ahead of yourselves.”

“Right, sorry.” (Y/N) settled back. “I’ll start from when Dad decided to foster me.”

“You knew that earlier on?” asked Noa.

(Y/N) nodded. “He protected me using his Devil-abilities to scare my uncle.”

“Your uncle the murderer,” remembered Olive.

“Right,” said (Y/N). “So I knew and trusted Dad from the start. He’s never been a problem. Everything else has been a problem.”

“Was it Amenadiel or Malcolm first?” asked Em.

“Amenadiel, I think.” (Y/N) looked at their friends. “He’s an angel, my Dad’s brother.”

“I thought his name was unique,” said Leon.

“Says ‘Leon,’ ” said Marcel.

“What did he do? I thought you liked him?” asked Olive.

“He tried to get my dad to go back to Hell,” said (Y/N).

“A lot of people want him to go back to ruling there,” said Em. “So Amenadiel tried to mess up (Y/N) and Lucifer’s relationship.”

“Which was annoying,” said (Y/N). “Luckily, it didn’t work.” They sighed. “However, he did make the mistake of making a deal with this guy named Malcolm who had gone to Hell briefly before coming back to life. He wasn’t great, and long story short, he tried to avoid Hell by killing my dad and threatened me.” They coughed. “I got shot.”

“You got shot?” shouted Noa.

“Uh, yeah?” said (Y/N). “Listen, this is just gonna get worse, so leave that aside.”

“Oh, God,” said Marcel, and then had a crisis after using that phrase.

“Birdie got shot,” said Em. “But it wasn’t from Malcolm. It was their uncle, who Malcolm got out of jail since he had seen Lucifer’s Devil Face and wanted to kill him.”

“And then Chloe shot my uncle,” said (Y/N).

“And now I come into the story!” said Em. “Because, uh, we had an escapee from Hell, and I didn’t want to get into trouble, so I, uh, climbed out of Hell while the barrier was weak.”

“Who can escape from Hell?” asked Olive.

“The Goddess of the Universe,” said (Y/N). “God’s wife.”

“He has a wife?” said Noa in shock.

“They’re…separate,” said (Y/N).

“I feel like that explains a lot about existence,” said Marcel.

“It does,” said (Y/N). “Especially since she has…issues. She had the best intentions, but like every Celestial—”

“That’s what angels and demons are called,” explained Em.

“—they always go about solving problems in the worst ways,” said (Y/N). “So Missy—”

“Miss Universe was what Birdie called the Goddess,” interjected Em.

“—became convinced that she could take back Heaven and have her family again by staging a coup,” explained (Y/N). “So she realized a sword in LA that caused everyone who held it to try to kill people. My therapist tried to kill me.”

“That explains why you don’t go to therapy,” said Leon.

“The sword belong to Azrael, which Uriel had stolen and fought Lucifer with,” said Em. “Azrael is his sister, Uriel is a brother.”

“Why would an angel steal their sibling’s weapon?” asked Marcel.

“Because he wanted Lucifer to send Missy back to hell, so he kept trying to kill me,” said (Y/N).

“Luckily, it didn’t work,” said Em. “Since (Y/N) developed abilities. They protected them.”

“You have powers?!” cried Olive.

“Oh, yeah,” said (Y/N). “I control shadows.”

“And you didn’t think to mention that first?” said Noa incredulously.

“It really didn’t seem like the most important part of all this,” said (Y/N).

Leon sighed. “Just continue.”

“Right, right. So, yeah, Uriel tried to kill me, my dad ended up killing him, which led to a long crisis for him, but he recovered eventually,” said (Y/N). “Either way, Missy released the blade on the populace of LA, and people got hurt.”

“Lucifer disliked what she’d done for her own gain,” said Em. “So then he decided that he wouldn’t even open a path for her to go to heaven herself.”

“Missy got upset, threatened me, and she and my dad fought,” said (Y/N). “My dad ended up cutting a hole to another reality, and Missy is over there creating her own universe instead of messing with this one.”

“And now we have a multiverse,” murmured Leon.

“And actually a little after this, I met you guys,” said (Y/N).

“All this happened before then?” said Noa.

Em shrugged. “Celestials live busy, dramatic lives.” She looked at (Y/N). “Wasn’t the Sinnerman next?”

“Right,” said (Y/N). “There was a killer called the Sinnerman, and it turned out to be an officer names Pierce who was actually Cain from the Bible who wanted to discover a way to die to stop being punished by God.” They sighed. “And his solution was to ask out Chloe because she makes my dad vulnerable when she’s around, so Cain thought the same would happen.”

“Lucifer wasn’t happy about that,” sighed Em.

“But then Cain decided he wanted to get to live forever again, so he decided to kill again to get punished again,” said (Y/N). “He tried to kill Amenadiel and instead…” they trailed off and tensed.

Em put a hand on their arm, remembering (Y/N) had seen it happen. “He killed Charlotte Richards.”

(Y/N) nodded stiffly. “Right. And then he kidnapped me to draw my dad out to kill him and then me.”

“Oh my god,” said Olive. “Are you alright?”

(Y/N) smiled slightly. “I wasn’t doing well then. But I’m doing better now.”

“We’re glad,” said Noa.

“We’re sorry we weren’t there for you,” said Marcel.

“We didn’t know what you were going through,” said Leon, but their support was there.

“Thank you,” said (Y/N). They sighed. “But there’s, uh, more.”

“How much more could there possibly be?” said Olive incredulously.

“We’re at my fifteenth birthday,” said (Y/N). “So only a few more months.” They took a sip of their hot chocolate. “So, during the fight with Cain, Chloe saw my dad’s wings.”

“I though he had a Devil face,” said Leon.

“It depends on if he hates himself or not,” said (Y/N).

“Right, because that makes sense,” said Noa.

“Nothing about Celestials make sense,” said Em.

“You’re one,” said Olive.

“Exactly,” said Em.

“Anyways,” interrupted (Y/N). “Chloe freaked and had a huge reaction.” They glanced around. “That’s why I was worried about you guys. She had this crisis and nearly helped an evil priest send my dad back to Hell.”

“But she came around,” said Em as the others cried out in alarm and worry. “She’s alright, now.”

“But Father Kinley wasn’t happy, so he sent a killer to attack my dad, and the guy tried to shoot me,” said (Y/N). “But I used my abilities and protected myself.”

“And scared that guy half to death,” added Em.

“He tried to kill me, so it’s justified,” said (Y/N). “But the worst thing to happen this year was Eve turning up.”

“Holy shit,” said Noa. “She’s the actual Eve, isn’t she?”

“Unfortunately,” muttered (Y/N).

“She’s not what I expected,” said Olive.

“She keeps trying to flirt with my dad,” complained (Y/N). “And their short-lived relationship was terrible. My dad kept acting like someone he wasn’t.”

“Exes are the worst,” said Marcel.

“Right!” said (Y/N). “And then when it was discovered that a prophecy foretold that Lucifer finding his first love on earth would cause evil to appear, Eve tried to avoid breaking up with him even when he said the relationship was over with!”

“I’m confused, how is she worse than almost getting killed?” said Leon.

“She’s annoying,” said (Y/N).

“I think your priorities are skewed,” said Leon.

“Are we…caught up?” asked Marcel, worried about what else could be happening.

“Uh, no, I think that’s it,” said (Y/N). They brightened. “Oh, but Maze is a demon too, and Linda and Amenadiel just had a kid so who knows what’ll happen with that.”

The group stared, but after everything else, they couldn’t really have that much more shock.

“Birdie,” said Em.

“What?” asked (Y/N).

“You’re Birdie for a reason,” said Em obviously.

“Oh, right,” said (Y/N). They looked at their friends. “Don’t freak out.”

“What else could possibly freak us out now?” said Noa.

(Y/N)’s wings spread out from their back, deep red and curling through the rom.

“Shit,” said Noa, staring with wide, awestruck eyes.

“Wow,” said Olive.

(Y/N) did jazz hands. “Tada.” They braced for a reaction.

“They’re so cool!” said Marcel.

“Impressive,” agreed Leon.

“You guys really don’t mind any of this?” asked Em in surprise.

“Well, we’re pissed you guys kept so many secrets from us,” said Noa.

“But we’re your friends! We’re here to support you and care about you guys,” said Olive.

“That’s what matters to us. You guys are still you,” said Marcel.

“The only thing that has changed is what we know about the world,” said Leon. “Not our relationship with you.”

(Y/N) grinned widely in relief, and their fingers folded back. “Thank you, guys. You have no idea what that means to me.”

“To us,” agreed Em.

“Don’t go sappy on us now,” teased Noa, hugged the pair tightly.

“Me, too!” said Olive, jumping into the hug.

Marcel smiled and joined the group hug, as did Leon. At the center, surrounded by their friends, (Y/N) smiled and closed their eyes. Everyone that mattered in their life knew who they were and still cared about them. They had their family and friends. (Y/N) had everything they needed.

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