#oh and i love talking about religious trauma

[nicolovespancakes]

Sometimes I think we don't talk enough about some of the guilt Jeremiah may hold over religion, and then I remember;

A lot of people don't know that Saint Ignatius of Loyola, or "St. Ignatius" as so called, is a Spanish catholic priest.

And why is that important? Let's take a moment to remember what the school Jeremiah went to after he left the circus is called,

That's the boarding school Jeremiah canonically attended after running from the circus. For multiple years.

So it is to be inferred that it's a Catholic Boarding School.

And when we first learn anything about Jeremiah, or Xander at the time, it's been, I think 6 years? Since he graduated from said school.

So he's had time to, process.

And Cameron Monaghan himself states he feels a sort of passion towards other men (like Bruce), that is definitely called more than platonic on a basic premise.

The catholic church itself opposes same-sex marriage and sodomy and is active in political campaigns against it.

It just makes me think of all the mental turmoil he must've had to go through. Catholic guilt, religious guilt in of itself, is horrible.

And religions like catholicism love to stamp out any form of individuality at the best of times. With how Jeremiah dresses? He probably had a rough upcoming.

And don't get me started on Post-Spray Jer and all the thoughts of catholicism at that point. Or the church he built for himself in season 5, where he oddly made his recruits dress more like Missionaries or Alter Boys.

If you add twinleska into it it's a whole other ball game too.

Or his family at all, really.

God, I think about it a lot.

[brynn-lear]

I never got too deep into enstars but there are days where I miss Mama 😔

[bullagit]

i think a not-insignificant amount of the heartbreak crowley’s feeling in the end is  because he’s finally truly understanding that what’s happening with aziraphale (as he perceives it) isn’t something that he can save him from.

[todaviia]

.

[inhonoredglory]

Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality

Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.

I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.

Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,

We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.

I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.

Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)

That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.

Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.

But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.

And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.

I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)

But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.

Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).

Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.

(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)

At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.

“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.

Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.

Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.

But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.

Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)

Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.

Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”

____

In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.

Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.

Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.

And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.

And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.

[devourable]

† church boy

[ sfw | tw : religion (not named but heavily implied), sacrilege, potential religious trauma? as well as general yandere content but it’s v tame ]

male yandere x gender neutral reader! only pronoun used for reader is ‘you’. i havent written like this in a very long time so i apologize if this is bad ;_;

abraham lived a simple life for the majority of his 21 years on this planet. he was born and raised in a religious household, the only son of a wealthy pastor, surrounded by typical bible-thumping folk who taught him that *** was above everything, above him, above the things he loved, and putting anything (or anyone) above his faith would surely result in his damnation. and his whole life, he believed that.

that was… until you entered his life.

it happened at a fundraiser he was volunteering at. it was any other day for the boy, handing out advertisements and chatting with everyone that came and went. an average, mundane event for him where he’d talk about the same things he did every day, smile, wave, everything that was expected of him.

after the last person in his line had left, he looked down to begin organizing his things so he could join the rest of the party. when he was shadowed by someone stepping in front of him again, he expected to see a familiar face — maybe someone that might’ve forgotten something? but when he looked up…

abraham’s breath caught in his throat. he swore the earth had stopped spinning the second your eyes locked.

whether if you were there because you shared the same religion, was dragged there by a friend/family member, or simply because there was free food, he had no clue - but it didn't matter. your looks, the way you moved, the sound of your voice — why was it all so... enchanting?

he couldn’t help the slight stutter in his words as he hastily offered you a pamphlet, quickly introducing himself and inquiring about you. what was your name? were you new to the church? why haven’t you met before?

the soft laugh you emitted as you spoke and the feeling of your skin grazing his felt like fire. and your name... oh, the poor boy didn’t even realize it, but he couldn’t help it — within moments of knowing you, he had grown totally enamored!

abraham found himself hovering by your side for the rest of the event. he was awkward, you’d quickly realize, but it was in that sort of sweet, inexperienced way. he was desperate to know you, to get closer to you, hoping that maybe if he could understand you, he’d figure out how to quell these intense feelings that had built within him — but to you and everyone else, he was simply making sure a new face wasn’t alone during the event. he was just being a good little pastor’s boy! that’s what he told himself too, over and over again.

he was being good by making you laugh. he was being good by giving you his number. and it was good that he grew elated by the idea of getting to see you again after this. he was a good person, so what if he was neglecting his duties to be around you? he did what he was supposed to all the time, surely he could be forgiven just this once.

right?

his obsession with you didn’t take long to blossom after that first meeting. you started to infiltrate every part of his life in one way or another. his prayers became tangled up with thoughts of you. rather than reading the bible, he’d reread the texts between the two of you while he waited for you to respond to them. when he went to church, he found himself scanning the pews in hopes of spotting you among the congregation rather than finding a seat right away. when service began, he couldn’t focus on the preaching taking place because he was too busy thinking of ways to see you again.

despite the utter adoration abraham had grown to feel for you.. at some point, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t help but wonder — was he becoming sinful? was he growing gluttonous for your attention? he couldn’t have been, he had been so devout his entire life! it was fine for him to miss a few services to see you as long as he made up for it later…

he couldn’t tell if you were an angel, as heaven-sent as he felt you to be, or if you were the embodiment of temptation, pulling him away from his faith and beckoning him to sin. were you both? could you be both? with the progression of his obsession with you, his conflicted feelings about his relationship with his faith grew alongside it.

maybe you just weren’t any good for him.

but your name and god seemed to always come up at the same time…

so maybe, it was a sign that he had someone new to worship.

[outlawinthisworld1117]

Perhaps in another life | Fleabag AU

☆ pairing: priest!Yunho x fleabag!(fem)reader

☆ genre: Angst, Smut, there is some light fluff as well because I genuinely cannot resist writing it in everything I do.

☆ summary: It's just a Fleabag au... I don't really know what to say here. Yunho is the Priest and you are Fleabag…

☆ warnings: 18+ MDNI!!! Religious themes, fingering, oral (f), Praise kink?, edging, vaginal sex, protected sex, aftercare (idk if I need to put a warning for that? but I've seen other ppl do it before so...), pet names (Angel, baby, good girl), Priest kink??, reader does call him Father sometimes, requited love that can't be pursued... ouchie.

☆ word count: 3.8k

☆ authors note: I heard that Yunho is (most likely) Catholic and my religious trauma manifests in interesting ways >:). This work is fiction and purely self-indulgent (really as all fanfics should be), it doesn’t reflect any of the members personally. The fourth wall break text is highlighted in red!

You weren’t good at love, never had been, and probably never would be. But it wouldn’t stop you from trying because he was all you could think about. Day and Night. Always on your mind. You met him at a family dinner you were unwillingly dragged to. Jeong Yunho. Pretty name. He was the only one that asked about you the entire night. No one ever cared to ask about you, but he did. How could you not form an attachment? You ran into him again while on your way home from work. You were able to see him better in the sunlight. Beautiful smile, really tall, kind eyes… his hands. Oh, Lord. His hands were gorgeous, and his neck was so— Shit… He was wearing a clerical collar. Fuck. He was Father Yunho. 

He’s a priest. I want to fuck a priest…

That didn’t stop you from seeing him though, nor thinking about him the way you did. How could it? Religious trauma manifested in strange ways. You would visit him at his church. He always welcomed you with a smile, and you would talk for hours. Sometimes about God, you weren’t religious and probably never would be, but sometimes he would ask about you. How you were doing. What your job was. How long you’ve lived here. Where you grew up. Your favorite color. The movies you enjoyed most. Your ex-boyfriends. Your future plans. What you ate for breakfast. He was so curious about everything you had to say. Shit. This was dangerous. You didn’t care though. You would ask about him and the more you learned the more you felt yourself falling for him. Your conversations started to become more intimate. Oh fuck. You were so attracted to him and you could tell he felt the same way about you.

How you ask? Well, it’s simple. Let me recall what happened yesterday, shall I?

“I’d better get going Father, lot’s of stuff to do today—”

He grinned, “Oh fuck you calling me Father like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it”

That’s how… 

And we made out in the confessional box right after.

You felt sick. Nauseous. Your head was pounding.

I really shouldn’t have gone out last night.

Or maybe your headache wasn’t from the ridiculous amount of alcohol you consumed, but instead, of each thought about him that consumed your very being. You didn’t know. What you did know was that if your bus didn’t show up in the next couple of minutes you were probably going to throw up all over the bench you were sitting on. Putting your head in your hands helped distract you from the throbbing against your skull. Though it couldn’t help you with what would happen next. Taking a deep, mind-clearing breath, you lifted your head up from your hands and there he was. Sitting right beside you. Like a damn apparition, waiting to jump scare you.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!—” He waved his large hands expressively.

“How long have you been—”

“Literally like two seconds,” He clarified quickly.

You exhaled, what felt like your entire soul, out, “W-why? What are you doing here?”

He smiled at you. It always made you feel weak. Such a beautiful smile, but it was quickly replaced with a pursed frown. His eyes became serious as he stared into yours. Then at your lips. Lingering for a moment before going back to your eyes.

“I don’t think you should come by the church anymore. Actually, I don’t just think… this is me pleading with you to not come by anymore.”

You just stared at him, unable to breathe, your chest felt so tight.

“And I mean that with the greatest of compliments,” he gushed before he got up and left. Just like that. He was gone as quickly as he had arrived.

What. the. fuck…

Regardless of his intent, it didn’t matter if you never went to that church again because you would still see him. At your house. Later that night. Knocking on your door like his life depended on it. So when you opened it up for him, he rushed in looking frantic. Pacing back and forth in your living room before sitting down on your couch, imploring you to do the same. So you did. He wasted no time to speak.

“I’ve sacrificed a lot for this life— I…” His words faltered, unsure of what to even say or why he came to your house in the first place.

You seemed to understand why he was there though. Nodding you took his hand, squeezing it gently in hopes that it would provide him some shred of comfort.

He took a relaxed breath, staring at the floor for a long time before he spoke again, “I shouldn’t have done what I did yesterday. I have to make sacrifices, yet I chose to be selfish. You…. You make me want to be selfish more than anything.”

You didn’t even realize he had moved until you felt his breath tickling your face. He was so close to you. Staring into your eyes, searching, begging, praying that he would find an answer he so desperately craved.

“It’s okay to be selfish, Father,” You whispered, “You’re not going to burst into flames. It  just makes you human.”

His palm was on your cheek, caressing it as he moved just a little bit closer to you. His breath seemed strained, building up to being labored. You had no idea the effect you had upon him, “I know. But… I can’t. I can’t allow myself to be selfish with you.”

Oh my god. We’re going to fuck.

“Why not allow yourself to, Father?”

He’s totally going to fuck me right here.

“I cannot be intimate with you—”

Oh, yes, yes he can.

“— oh for FUCKS SAKE. What is that?” He leaned back from you, his hand moved from your face to your thigh as his eyes were once again searching yours.

“What is what?”

His hand is…

“THAT! Right there. Where do you go when you do that?” His eyes were locked in on you, with extreme clarity, like he could effortlessly read the inner workings of your soul.

“I— I was just thinking…” You whispered, overwhelmed by his detailed observation. No one had ever noticed you like he did. No one. It made you feel hot.

“What are you thinking, Angel?” He pleaded sweetly as if he didn’t just shock your entire being.

Angel…

You stayed quiet, feeling exposed in front of him, worried that he could read your thoughts. He started to rub along your thigh, stilling before he spoke with a deep husky tone, “We’re going to have sex, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly, “Yeah…”

That was all he needed before moving his other hand to cup your face, quickly closing the gap between you as he ardently placed his lips upon yours. He started slow, mapping out your lips with his. He was so observant, noting every touch, taste, and feeling with small, curious movements. Warmth blossomed in your chest, he made you feel so wanted and cared for. He always made you feel this way. And then, as if he was suffocating and you were his oxygen, he began kissing you fervently. Pouring every ounce of selfishness he could into this act like he would never get to do it again. You carded your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, never wanting to let go of him out of fear he would slip away forever. Begging to be let in, he pressed his tongue lightly, and you gladly obliged, parting your lips like they were the Red Sea. He tasted of red wine and he always smelled so good. Like a room full of unscented candles that were just blown out. Smokey and sensual. It turned the warmth in your chest into a burning desire. You couldn’t help the sounds you were letting out as his hands explored over your body. His dexterous, long fingers traced along you, memorizing how you felt beneath him.

“Do you know what you do to me, Angel?” He moved your position so that you were lying down, his weight pressing on top of you, enveloping your senses completely. You could feel what he meant on your hip. Oh; And his pants were restraining him. A lot. Oh, Jesus… Hallelujah.

“Yunho…” You breathed lightly, aching for more of him. To which he understood, perfectly, like he always did.

You wrapped your legs around his waist when he picked you up from the couch. Easily. His arms never letting go of your ass on the way to your room. He groaned at the friction he was getting from you as he walked. Once he set you down he began loosening his collar. You watched tantalizingly as he began to slowly unbutton his shirt. He was so beautiful, his chest was lean and sculpted, like a marble statue. You whined when his shirt slipped off completely, feeling embarrassed from the noise that escaped your lips. He grinned at you as he moved forward, causing you to lay flat against your bed. His long fingers teased at the hem of your shirt before he pulled it over your head. His breath hitched when he saw your bra. A black, lacy one you bought recently in the hopes he would be seeing it. 

Dreams do come true.

“Stop that. I want you present here with me,” He begged, tipping your chin so you were looking at him again, as his lips attached to your neck in a feverish haste. Nipping and licking along you like you were a sweet treat he was enjoying for the first time after Lent. Small moans escaped his lips, causing heat to shoot to your core. He moved down from your neck to the mounds of your breasts, kissing lightly while his hand explored your inner thigh. Every small movement made the warmth inside you grow. Snaking his fingers up to the button on your pants he undid it quickly, expertly removing your pants and tossing them to the side with the rest of the discarded clothing. Your panties matched the bra, earning a small hiss from him that shot a thrill through you.

“You’re quite good at this Father. Like you’ve done it before?” You teased him. His eyes were dark and needy, admiring you lying beneath him as he towered above you. The dark patch from your core caught his attention, hitching his breath. He looked different from his normal self. Hungry. Possessive. Almost like a demon had taken over. An incubus of a man before you.

“I had a life before the church, Angel,” Was all he avowed before kneeling down to worship you. Sliding his fingers under the waistband, he grabbed the edge of your panties with his teeth, and slowly… pulled… them… off. The act made you arch your back and let out a gasp; It was singlehandedly the most toe-curling thing you had ever witnessed. He trailed kisses along your leg, starting at your ankle and moving up. Feathery kisses on your calf. Light ones at your knee. Nibbling on your thigh, and ending up between them, where you needed him most. Your breath had become ragged, matching his. He shuddered when he looked at your core, pulsating around nothing.

“Oh fuck… look at how wet you are for me,” He whimpered, gathering your arousal on his fingers, and showing it to you. You moaned at the sensation of him touching your folds. He sinfully grinned at your reaction before latching on to you with his mouth, swiping his tongue along you salaciously. It ignited a fire with you. Each lick felt like a pleasure you had never experienced before. You were more turned on than you had ever been in your entire life and it was all because of him. His touch made your skin feel like it was on fire in the best way.

“Please— I,” Moaning out, unable to express how he made you feel. You could feel a familiar coil building within you, his ministrations against you were heavenly, “Yun, that feels so good.”

He slipped in one long finger, curving it up, immediately finding your g-spot. He was so fucking good at this. It shocked you. A celibate man who still had all this expert knowledge years later. God, what couldn’t he do? The spring inside you was close to snapping, and he grinned against you, “You gonna cum, Angel?”

“Y-Yes I’m gonna—” He pulled away from you, leaving you right on the edge of bliss. Release escaped you and you cried out, “No, no…Please, Yunho, please.”

You grabbed him gently, but franticly, by his hair, trying to put him back. He just chuckled, the vibrations of his voice buzzed through you, “What’s the rush baby? You’ve waited a long time for this. I’d like to make it last.”

He crawled up to you so that your faces were parallel once again. Kissing you softly, you could taste yourself on him, which made you shiver. Arching your back, he took the opportunity to take off your bra swiftly. He looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes, breathing you in, and then commanding, “Take them off.”

So you did. Unbuttoning his pants quickly so that he was free of them. You might just convert to Catholicism after this because you don’t know what you did to deserve that. He was perfect and painfully hard; there was precum already leaking from his pretty red tip. Experimentally, you reached out and wrapped your hand around him, and the sound that he let out… was pathetic. He screwed his eyes shut and whimpered into the crook of your neck, “FucK-uh! Angel… not yet. Please”

He hadn’t been touched in so long that he was afraid he would burst at the slightest stroke from you. It made you feel unbelievably powerful, so, teasingly, you did it again and he grabbed your wrist, “Behave. Don’t make me say that again.”

“Or what, Father?” You purred into his ear.

“Or I’m going to have to make you repent, Angel,” He glared at you lustfully. It shot a thrill through your entire being, “I’d chose your next words carefully…”

You stayed silent, not out of obedience, but because you didn’t know what to come back with. When you first met him you never would’ve expected him to be like this, but you weren’t going to complain. He grinned, thinking that you had learned your lesson, “Good girl.”

You could’ve come right then. Good girl? It’s like he was trying to kill you. You loved hearing him praise you and he caught onto it quickly. He trailed his fingers lightly up and down your inner thighs as he kissed along your jaw, it made you shudder.

“You’re going to keep being good for me now, okay?” He sighed, breath quivering. You nodded numbly, enjoying this unseen side of him.

“Yunho, please…” You begged him to do something, anything.

“Of course Angel, you’ve been so patient,” He kissed your forehead before he rubbed his fingers against your folds, teasing around your opening. You gasped when he pressed two digits in, all the way to the knuckle, he hissed, “Fuck… you’re so tight, baby. I’m going to have to stretch you out first.” 

He began to move them, curling into your sweet spot again, pumping in and out while his thumb found your clit; he could already feel your walls loosening around him. As he worked you down there, his lips attached to one of your nipples. It made you cry out. He licked and tugged at the swollen bud before moving to the other one, repeating his actions. The coil in your abdomen wound up quickly and you knew that he wouldn’t have to go much longer. Grasping at his back you took a second to look at him, his face was flushed, and his lips were red from kisses. He was so beautiful it made your heart hurt. Lazily he rubbed circles along your clit as he continued his movements, “Can you cum for me, Angel?”

His words sent you spiraling into ecstasy, your walls trembling around his fingers as he skillfully guided you through your orgasm. Waves of pure pleasure crashed over you, and for a fleeting moment, you could have sworn you glimpsed heaven itself. You took a moment, trembling and breathing heavily, to gather yourself. It was undeniably one of the best orgasms you had ever experienced. When you finally opened your eyes, he was positioned at your entrance, condom already on. His eyes found yours, like a prayer for your consent, to which you nodded in reply. He rubbed slowly along your folds, gathering slick before he steadily began to enter you. He was stretching you out way more than his fingers did, but it wasn't painful; you gasped as he finally bottomed out, “You take me so well, Angel. Are you alright?”

You nodded your head lazily, “More than alright, Yun.”

He kissed you, so lovingly, so sweetly, it made you blush. Every movement of his lips against yours was infused with a depth of emotion, while his hands lovingly caressed your face, his thumb softly brushing against your cheek. He obviously couldn’t say how he felt, but you knew. You knew unmistakably in that kiss. It brought tears to your eyes and, of course, he knew why they were there. You two just understood each other so well. He was inside you, and yet that was the most sacred, intimate thing he could have done. He delicately kissed away the tears on your face until they vanished, and then, tentatively he began to move.

Starting slow, he gently pulled out a bit at a time, allowing you to fully adjust to the movement. When he sensed that you were ready for more, the pace quickened. You clung to his back, as he withdrew to the tip and then thrust back into you. It was as if he was perfectly made for you, with every thrust meeting that sweet spot inside you over and over again. The heat in your core began to intensify, each whimper and moan from him sending waves of pleasure coursing through you, “FUck-ah! Mmm Angel, fuck you feel s-so good.”

“F-Father…” You tightened around him with each thrust, the room alive with the sounds of squelching and skin meeting skin, intertwined with the breathless whimpers from both of you. It left you feeling delightfully dizzy. He pressed his face into your neck, teasing, and nipping along it, leaving behind little marks that would greet him in the morning light, “God… Yunho, Please, more please.”

He was ramming into you at an ungodly pace with an intensity that felt almost divine, the coil inside you teetering on the brink of snapping once more. Attacking your neck with fervent nips and tantalizing licks that sent waves of pleasure humming through you. His movements began to grow frantic, his rhythm wavering as he neared the edge with you. Your second orgasm surged through you unexpectedly, his clumsy thrusts elongating the pleasure to new lengths. With a few erratic movements, he tensed in your embrace, a chorus of moans, whimpers, and whispered curses escaping his lips as he reached his peak. He relaxed in your arms, letting his full weight rest on you as you both came down from your highs, feeling the rhythm of each other’s heavy breaths intertwining in the stillness.

“I can’t believe you did that, Father,” You whispered, in a post-high clarity.

He chuckled against you, resting his chin on your chest, smiling as he looked up at you, “Yeah… me either.”

He tenderly kissed your cheek before pulling out and disposing of the condom. With a gentle smile, he got up and went to your bathroom, returning with a warm, wet rag to clean both you and himself with. After he was done he grinned, “Go use the bathroom, Angel, and then come back here, okay?”

You came back out from the bathroom wearing a comfy T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear, and he was waiting on your bed, with his boxers back on. He looked absolutely adorable with his tousled hair and those sleepy, drowsy eyes. He pulled you back onto the bed, nestling close to you, awaiting blissful sleep to lull over you both.

His hair softly ticked you awake. He was wrapped around you like he had used you as a body pillow at some point during the night. You hadn’t slept that great in a while. Your stirring had woken him up. He inhaled deeply, holding you tightly for a moment before releasing you. A radiant smile lit up his face, and you could see the gears behind his eyes whirring with life.

“What are you thinking about?” You titled your head to capture his attention.

He just grinned at you, “I just… I don’t know what this feeling is.”

“Is it God or is it me?” You playfully joked.

“I don’t know,” The smile on his face wavering slightly, taking your question seriously into consideration. It made your heart drop a bit.

Your feet ached from a long, exhausting day at work. You were glad to finally be on your way home. Looking up at the bus stop schedule you saw that yours was about twenty minutes away.

Great…

You heard a sharp inhale next to you and a small chuckle, “Might be quicker if you walked, Angel.”

Yunho was sitting next to you at the bus stop, once again.

“Long time no see stranger,” You smirked.

He smiled at you warmly, but there was a look in his eyes that squashed your joking mood. He just dryly laughed and stared into your eyes for a good while. Those loving brown orbs of his were full of sincerity and anguish. You nodded slowly, a suffocating ache in your chest made itself present.

“It’s God… isn’t it?” You choked, the lump in your throat had become overwhelming.

“Yeah…” He sighed, taking hold of one of your hands in his.

You just let out a small laugh and smiled, tears welling into your eyes, making it hard to see him, “You know, the worst thing is that I fucking love you. I- I love you.”

“Angel—”

“No, no. Let’s not. Let’s just leave that out there for a moment okay?” You interrupted, the tears breaking free from your eyes to roll down your red cheeks, “I love you.”

He squeezed your hand, a warmth that provided little comfort to you now, before he whispered, “It’ll pass”

You bit at your lip, trying to prevent yourself from having a breakdown at the bus stop. So you plastered on a fake smile, choked back your tears, and nodded. You stayed like that, with your hand in his, for what felt like a fucking eternity, until he got up.

As he began to walk away he paused, turning to you one last time, confirming what you already knew, “I love you too.”

Fucking hell...

And then he was gone. Your bus was there, magically, and he was gone. Perhaps in another life, he wouldn't be. But this was the one you had.

a/n: This is my first time writing smut and posting it somewhere. So I am very open to feedback and constructive criticism. If you enjoyed please consider reblogging, it lets me know that I should continue writing <3

Masterlist

[fallstaticexit]

The Art of Being Seen - a Nancy Landgraab story

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔒𝔫𝔢 - 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔥

Prev / Next

AN / Transcript under the cut

AN: Nancy's story will consist of 3 parts: Part One- Youth | Part Two - Uni | Part Three - Wife Three pivotal moments in Nancy’s life that shaped the Nancy we know today.

As mentioned in the prologue, this story may contain mature and possibly even uncomfy themes and all posts will have their corresponding trigger warners in the post as well as the tags. Trigger Warnings are: Homophobia / Religious Trauma / Death via Car Accident/ Drugs / Alcohol / Infidelity / Sex & Nudity

Also, I have experienced CAS burnout lately, so I aged down most of the townies to teens lol. I figured this version of Cassandra Goth can be the AU version since I’ve already wrote Bella and Morti Goth into my Briar legacy, which this story is apart of that universe.

Transcript:

Cassie: This is Blair Hall, the senior girls’ dorm, and if you ask me, it’s the best one. We have our own private library. Down there is the rec room; we’re not allowed to have the boys over unless it’s with a chaperone.

Cassie: We’re also the closest to the church, which is great for when we have group sessions before service. You won’t have to rush and scarf down breakfast, plus you can sleep in a little!

Nancy: [sarcastically] Gee, how’d I get so lucky?

Cassie: Sister Agnes always says, It’s not luck—it’s a blessing! Vacancies are hard to come by. My old roomie withdrew; she had a really hard time fitting in with the other girls. They can be... kind of intense.

Dina: Oh, look. Another pretty blonde rich girl. Like those aren’t a dime a dozen here.

Nina: [scoffs] Here we go...

Dina: I am not joking. I better not catch her ass around Don. The last hoochie he was tonguing down was also a skinny, flat-chested, blonde bimbo.

Vanessa: You need to put his weenie in a cage instead of fighting every girl that breathes the same air as him.

Dina: Well, he wouldn’t be tempted if these floozies would stay away from my man!

Vanessa: I guess dyeing your hair blonde isn’t working for you, huh?

Dina: Oh, shut it, VV. You’re just jealous he isn’t into redheads.

Nina: Hmm, I thought he was into redheads though.

Dina: Ugh, as if!

Cassie: You can pretty much decorate your space however you want. Just nothing that’s on the prohibited list. There’s a room check every night before curfew, and-

Nancy: What do you know about that redhead on the balcony?

Cassie: Dina?

Nancy: No, she said her name was Vanessa. I ran into her this morning but she didn’t mention her last name.

Cassie: Oh, yeah! VV. Vanessa Villareal. She’s- eh, one of the mean girls. I try to stay out their way. Probably best you do the same.

Nancy: [softly to herself] Villareal. So, she’s old money, too.

Cassie: Her family built the school. Guess that’s why she feels like she can do whatever she wants- eh, don’t tell anyone I said that!

Cassie: But, erm, you’re welcome to hang out with me and my friends during rec and lunch and stuff. I know how tough it can, being the new girl and all.

Nancy: Yeah? ...thanks- Cassie, was it?

Cassie: You’ll totally like my friends. They’re the coolest people on Earth.

Cassie: Definitely better than some people. You can tell who goes here because of their faith and who was forced here because of their lack of it.

Cassie: Hey guys! This is Nancy, she’s my new roomie.

Bob: No way, they filled Angela’s spot already? Money talks. I’m Bob, or Bobby, and this cool, tall drink of water is Geoffrey. Welcome to Paradise.

Bob: [whispers] Geoffrey! Say something to the pretty girl!

Geoffrey: [voice cracks] W-we’ve um, met already.

Geoffrey: Our dad’s are friends. I just haven’t seen her since we were 10 years old. She looks so... different.

Bob: Oh, I seeee. First love? Your ears are beet red, my man.

Bob: Take a seat, newbie! Are you into D&D, perchance?

Nancy: I have no idea what that is.

Bob: Oh, ho ho! You’re in for a treat, m’lady. I’ll catch you up from the beginning of our campaign.

Vanessa: You look so bored. Want to get out of here, new girl?

Vanessa: Don’t worry, I’ll return you back to your nerds in one piece.

Cassie: [grumbles] Um, hello, we’re sitting right here?

Nancy: Go where, exactly? This place is in the middle of nowhere.

Vanessa: Guess you’ll have to come and find out.

Nancy VO: [I learned then, that I would follow her anywhere]

Dina: There she goes, taking in another stray.

Nancy VO: [All she had to do was take my hand]

[spadesolace]

analyze my heart

thomasian! chaewon x lasallian! reader

one thing chaewon developed while taking her undergrad course, she unintentionally psychoanalyzes the people around her, especially her girlfriend

word count: 1.4k

spade speaks: advance valentine’s day 🩵

chaewon isn’t one to make her feelings known that easily. partially that was the reason why she took psychology as her major, to better understand her mind and what she feels- only to end up psychoanalyzing everyone around her.

it started with her parents - her dad specifically. the small mood swings that always resulted in a screaming match only for chaewon to run back to her room and cry about it. every conversation would start with them having a lovely chat and one small mistake from her would lead to her father asking her credibility.

“oh- why aren’t you confident when we talk about these things?”

“dad, i just-“

something simply caused their relationship to be rocky. no longer was her father the same caring man that she looked up to when growing up...

but their fights slowly decreased, once she found a way to slowly manipulate her father that would benefit the two of them. one that would result in a peaceful evening with little to none fighting and for her mother to finally relax.

her mother was next - her own insecurities being the target in every conversation. one of which is how religious her mother is. the idea of her daughter liking women brought such a drift in their relationship that it was chaewon’s goal to find out how it all started. all it took was a few glasses of wine and the right questions just for her mother to spill everything to her. to which everything made sense - her own grandparents were the stereotypical traditional family.

chaewon understood that psychoanalyzing her parents let alone sometimes her friends are crossing the line but then - you.

for her, you were the biggest mystery she has encountered. for someone that goes at the university that is known as the reddest of flags, you were the same as your university. a walking green flag.

your first date within españa made her realize how guarded you were. little to no details but the basics being shared yet you had chaewon swooning over you within the course of three hours. a complete mystery that she wishes to unveil.

it continued on - as you slowly opened up to chaewon a part of her wishes to learn more how deep your thoughts go. there were little icks she had gotten but that was merely due to the status quo. all she did was analyze you, yet you ended up analyzing her feelings.

“y/n… gusto kita (i like you).”

“i like you too, chaewon.”

even when things were made official between you two, chaewon still tried her best to unravel the mystery that is you. to find an answer as to what makes you - you.

on the other hand, you were making sure that kim chaewon wouldn’t break your heart. the stereotype that thomasians are ghosters left a bitter taste in your mouth, and hearing your friends warn you while dating chaewon. your guard was up and even if you’ve shared sentiments and traumas to her, it wasn’t one that would make her break you that easily.

you’ve heard stories of psychology majors being the reddest of flags but you never believed in them until you experienced it yourself.

sure, her university isn’t the best considering the amount of dramas and conspiracies you’ve heard from your friends but you never once thought of it as something that could affect your relationship with chaewon.

you’re well aware that chaewon tends to bottle her feelings up, not until she explodes like a soda bottle shaken and explodes as you open it. here she was, in your apartment ignoring you as she sighs every other minute. chaewon and amongst all other students from her university despise the admins at how inhumane their workloads are or how students are treated like robots but here you are.

“chae, take a break for a bit? you haven’t eaten anything yet.”

chaewon choose to ignore you as she read through her assignment again and again, switching from one file to another but you only grow more concerned as she continues to ignore your presence.

“chae… come on, just eat something.”

ignored yet again, you would have let it slide if it weren’t so later in the evening that you caught her up at 2AM still doing her assignments and readings. you’re used to her ignoring you when she has a bunch of schoolworks to finish but you’re still concerned for your girlfriend.

“chae…”

“Y/N. STOP! can’t you see me studying here? ihave to finish this by tonight and I can’t focus if you keep on-“

a part of you blocks out the rest of what chaewon had to say. the last thing you wanted to hear from her is screaming at you and blaming you. you watch her spit venom at you, taking it all in and realizing this was the girl you’ve been dating for two years. she broke again and you could only see how fierce and annoyed she is at you.

you made sure she won’t break your heart - yet here you are standing still as she packs her stuff. feeling your heart break as you do nothing and let her walk out of your place like many nights before.

this wasn’t the first time it’s happened.

this wasn’t the first time kim chaewon walked out on you.

this wasn’t the first time you heard a knock at your door at 3AM with a drunk chaewon waiting for you to open the door.

this wasn’t the first time you kissed her back while she’s intoxicated in your arms.

it’s a cycle. she breaks then leaves for a couple of days, you ignore her and she comes crawling back to you asking for forgiveness.

you’ve long analyzed her heart and her desire to keep you around despite how toxic it has become - despite knowing she wishes to learn more about you to use it against you.

everytime it happens, chaewon can’t hate you. she’s aware that half of the time it’s her that’s the problem. you’ve been so understanding and just wanting to take care of her yet here she is fucking it up once again by screaming at you as you let her do it.

you aren’t a people pleaser.

“do you not care about people’s opinions?” chaewon could only watch you shake your head as you finish writing your paper and ignoring every message and plead your classmates send your way for help.

“let them talk, it’s not my job to remind them of their responsibilities.” there was no sign of caring for what your friend’s have to say as you leave them in the dark as you close your laptop and silence your phone. ending the day with chaewon in your arms as you lay in her bed.

your family is so supportive.

she hasn’t seen any parent that is so supportive of their child who went for their passion, even if it were a small thing on a paper once you graduate. still, it baffles her knowing that you wanted to venture out and although there were some restrictions that made your parents say no to your crazy desires. they were still supportive as you tell them your project for your minor program with a huge smile on your face as they listened intently and asked questions. she feels out of place whenever your parents would ask her questions about her life, is this what having a normal conversation with relatives feels like?

and you never mentioned anything that left you questioning everything in life as you hit a dark point in your life.

you’re a mystery to kim chaewon because how could you be so perfectly fine with her screaming at you at the top of her lungs and leaving you for days until she’s back at your place wearing your clothes.

you have her wrapped around your finger as she circles around looking for a way to be above you. one thing chaewon never accounted for is that you’re too self aware.

chaewon can’t find your issues, what makes you imperfect but you know well enough what those are to hide it from anyone but yourself. not a day goes by where you mentally beat yourself for things you have no desire of telling anyone and sure, chaewon loves to psychoanalyze you as you keep this facade.

at the end of the day, you have her heart, knowing what she wants in a relationship and simply taking it as it is. even if there is something chaewon could use against you - you’ve analyzed her before she could even realize it.

[greenlakegalpals]

thinking about schneider again and how she has truely been through A LOT.

ultra religious catholic family from 1920's italy, born as the thirteenth child, in a storm, her mother remarried(divorce is NOT seen so highly in those times especially when youre ultra religious roman catholic, wouldnt be surprised if she was blamed for that). seen as a bad luck. slap in some religious trauma where she wonders if god hates her.

outright neglected and malnourished because there were too many mouths to feed family and very little food to go around in a country so extremely impoverished at the time. then her family moves to chicago usa of all places, now she has to deal with racism ontop of being an immigrant girl who didnt speak a lick of english. had to learn it by force, had to find odd jobs to support her family. considering shes based off a showgirl, very possible that was one of her many jobs to keep herself and her family afloat. so add sexism and the very real and common threat of sexual harrasment she nost likely dealt with. then she goes into bootlegging, though its helping her family..... this brings gangsters and cops and rival bootleggers who dont like competition.

so she had to defend herself and her families future. she had to sacrifice her own principles. shes not a killer, shes not a cold blooded unfeeling murderer. she loves and feels so deeply, especially for her family that she HAD to do the unthinkable, went against everything she was raised to be just to support them. even if it meant killing and lying and blackmailing.

oh and dont forget the religious trauma that made her think next to nothing about herself. she thinks herself as a sinner, cursed and left by god. the way she talks about herself obviously imply she thinks she deserves punishment.

i cant stop thinking about this girl

[ssparksflyy]

Hiii I hope you are having a great day!! I was wondering if you could make another percy jackson x daughter of Hecate reader? If you don’t/ can’t do it that’s fine I just though i would ask.

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

percy jackson dating hcs ! *ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing: percy jackson x latina!daughter of hecate!reader warning(s): swearin an: dw i got ur 2nd request that u wanted reader to be latina :)) i just added in some little things that tie in ♡♡ srry if these are short btw </3

in the dead of night, your eyes so greennnnnnnn

you and percy tend to stay up later than most of camp

your always up and out after curfew

you js function better at night okay

me asf

the day is reserved for lake dates and the night is reserved for sky watching dates ♡♡

youre literally attached by the hip if you couldnt tell

as they say in waitress, i love you means your never ever getting rid of me ♡

you usually watch from the roof of cabin 3, just cuddled up and sharing a blanket

but once percy suggested you watch from the docks

and you were like oh!

not actually but you looked really hesitant

he was like whats wrong??

so you told him about la llorona !! #coquette

it was so preppy

but now youre both scared to go to the lake at night

even though yk shes not real

and youve literally been through tartarus

and back

and you face unimaginable horrors every day

and percy's literally the son of the sea god

mexican folklore is scary ok yall

idc if it didnt scare you as a kid / you like horror

I DONT

IM TRAUMATIZED

MY GRANDMA PUT ON LA LEYENDA DE LA LLORONA WHEN I WAS FIVE AND I HAVENT KNOWN A DAY OF PEACE SINCE

sorry for trauma dumping yall

kinda silly how some story about a lady who drowned her kids is enough to make 2 of camp half blood's strongest soldiers shake in their boots

so u stick to rooftops ♡

you and hazel are bestiessss

shes a honorary member of cabin 20 of course

you exchange tips and tricks, hazel telling you about the things she saw hecate do and the things she said to her

and you tell her about the things youve picked up over the years :))

percy cant help but smile whenever he sees you two together

he sees hazel as a sister

(yall remember in son when he was ready to fight somebody for her or something like that i dont remember exactly what he said but i do know he was ready to fight)

and ur his fav girl ever ♡

his heart just feels warmed

same way he feels when he sees you playing with estelle

you show her a bit of ur powers and she flips outtttt

she asks sally to be a witch for halloween because "i want to be just like (y/n)!!!"

dont know about yall but if i went home and my family found out i was involved with ~brujeria~ i would not be accepted at home (please read as if youre white and cant say shit in spanish)

thats just the mad religious side talking dont worry yall

but sally and paul would literally let you in with open arms

the jackson's apartment is your second home

percy has a drawer reserved for your clothes in his room ♡♡

he loves it when you sleepover, at home or at camp

he absolutely adores kissing your hands

he doesnt care about the dangers you can produce from them, he'll kiss em allllll he wants

you could be cuddled up together, ur reading to him and he just grabs one of your hands and begins to leave a trail of kisses up your arm, shoulder, neck, cheek, and eventually leaving one on your temple

it just gets you like 😵‍💫

he loves his badass girlfriend, okay?

literally your #1 fan

would beat up anybody who talks shit !!!

tea is your holy ground ♡

because you cant drink coffee

cause ya know, adhd, youll just end up knocking out

though you do drink it when you cant fall asleep at night

its me, hi

and hot chocolate is strickly an only-in-december drink, because then it wont hit in december, since you had it earlier in the year

(my mom does that with gorditas and tamales broooo its painful)

so ya drink tea!

i dont drink tea, so im not even gonna try to tell you what his favorite is

he likes whatever you like

but you try a bunch of different teas and stuff together :)

youd probably adopt a black cat together when youre older

youre never gonna beat your neighbor's witch allegations

(probably because theyre true but youll obviously never say that)

i feel like percy would be more of a dog person but lets be real, he likes horses.

fuckin horse girl smh

but that does not mean he wouldnt love and care for the cat

he'd so let you stop to pet any stray cat you see on the street

takes pictures of the cat anytime you do ♡

you cook together !!

you teach percy a bunch of different recipes and stuff :)

has a 'kiss the cook' apron 100%

and what can ya say, you gotta kiss the cook

man you guys manage to stay silly throughout the horrors, we love

[berk-brain-rot]

So Berk posted a video of some poems that never made it into Lazarus Rises and I wanted to talk about my favorite one.

It's this, it's this one.

If you're just here to read the poem, fair, it's amazing and stands on it's own, honestly click the link and read the rest of them, because they're all so good!

If you're here as a fellow-feral-unhinged-raccoon and want to read my honestly unneeded analysis, it's below the cut.

Oh my god. Are you kidding me?? This was a poem that didn't pass the cut??? And it's this good?????? (Once again I feel justified in telling literally every person who spends five minutes in conversation with me about how good of a poet Berk is)

Honestly though, this is one of my favorites of the poems in that video, because it's so short, it's so simply written, and this says so much that I feel like I could write an entire essay on each of the lines themselves and their meanings (I honestly might anyways but I'm not gonna subject you guys to those rambles)

"Life loves Death"

In the same way you can't help but love an impossible task you just want to give up but that at this point is the only company you truly remember and the only thing you know how to work towards.

"Life loves Death"

In the same way we can't help but try and find meaning in beauty in the thing that truly only takes from us, because if there isn't meaning and beauty in our pain, then why the fuck do we have it?

"Life loves Death"

As something we can't take seriously. As something we truly don't understand the risks of until it's too late. As something that for some of us, we rush forward to with joy and open arms because we think it'll feel like the warm embrace of the sun but instead all we are met with is the cold cold ocean.

"Life loves Death"

As a burden, a burden that some claim is a gift. A burden enforced upon us poor poor sinners by a god in punishment. Am I talking about Apollo or Jesus? Both, neither of them, I don't believe in either, but I mean no one believed Cassandra either.

"Life loves Death"

As a needed tool, as a part of every flower we decide to put in a vase, as every dye we put in paint, as every food we are forced to consume and as the tool that at the end of the days ends up changing us.

Also something something, gods punishing poor sinners for wanting to enjoy life something something an apple and a weaving contest being the show of ultimate pride something something I don't have religious trauma you do

Like do you get it???? Do you see how insane this is??? How much information they've packed into six lines???

And I'm not even gonna go over the way Life and Death are capitalized and personified, you all already know how I feel about how impressive it is they do that, but regardless, this poem is amazing and you can pry it out of my coffin-bloodied-cold-dead hands.

As always, the source is always more interesting than anything I have to say, so if you haven't yet, go read Lazarus Rises(amongst other things) and follow them on their Tumblr @icaruspendragon because they write so many cool things beyond just their published book.

[sophieinwonderland]

Reminder That System Medicalism is a Religion: Exhibit A, @theinfernalcollective

This is pretty typical sysmed rhetoric.

And in typical sysmed fashion, has no sources to back it up whatsoever! As always, sysmeds rely on an argument by assertion. Facts just aren't on their side.

Never have been, never will be.

So they give a couple sources.

First is the DSM which doesn't say trauma is needed in all cases of DID, only that it's associated with trauma. It makes no such claim for OSDD-1 being associated with trauma at all. And on top of that, doesn't even mention the word system. Which is pretty big since most endogenic systems don't have a dissociative disorder and don't claim to.

Basically, it's a nothing source that doesn't back up what they claim it does.

As for Dr Candy Fox...

There's no evidence she actually said this.

And she has yet to respond to the message I sent her website. (Because yes, I did send her a message on her site to see if she actually agreed with this.)

But based on the context, it seems pretty obvious she would have been talking about dissociative identity disorder, not "being a system."

Now, before going any further into this conversation, let's take a step back and remember The Infernal Collective asking the anon to name a single psychiatrist, obviously expecting they wouldn't be able to.

How did THAT go?

Oh right, it's how it always goes when you meet a sysmeds' goalposts!

Did you expect anything different?

"This psychiatrist saying you can be plural without trauma doesn't count because he's talking about transgender people."

"And also the screenshots of his peer-reviewed book that was published by the American Psychiatric Association are posted on a site I don't like."

So when linked to an email from a dissociative expert, someone with 40 years of experience treating dissociative identity disorder, they again retreat to just... not liking the website the image is posted on?

And again, their source for Dr. Candy Fox was just something they allegedly heard in person during evaluationMeanwhile this is an actual email, with one of the foremost DID experts in the world!

Also, for the love of the gods, Transgender Mental Health does NOT say "transgender make plurality." Actually read the thing!!!

But hey, now that I'm done with that particular conversation and got what I need to make my point, I'll confess! All these anons were me!

Reminder, again, their source was "my doctor said it, trust me bro!"

And while I only named a couple doctors over the course of that conversation, I could have dropped so many more!

The fact is, it's not hard to look at a link and read the screenshots therein. Here, I'll even post the pics!

And in case you're thinking that they just trust Dr. Candy Fox's opinion so much and hold her in such high regard...

Nope.

But then...

WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU BASING YOUR BELIEFS ON?

Because it's not psychiatry. You can't cite a single doctor anywhere who has said you can't be a system without trauma!

System Medicalism is a Religion!

Sysmeds, like transmeds, do not base their bigotry in science or rationality. They do not follow the opinions of experts.

It's a religion to them! The Church of the Holy Trauma believes that Trauma and only Trauma has the might to bestow plurality upon the few chosen. And their faith is so unshakable because they've been told this by random uneducated nobodies on the internet, and it just feels true.

And because their FAITH in this idea is so strong, no amount of studies will change their mind. No amount of doctors coming forward to support endogenic systems. No amount of literal brain scans will convince them endogenic systems are real. As the saying goes, you can't reason someone outs of a position they didn't reason themselves into in the first place.

In the end, sysmeds continue to be an anti-science hate group with a religious devotion to their ideology of hate.

And this whole disaster is just another example of that.

[catboymoments]

I know I’ve talked about this before, mostly on Twitter, but when people talk about the possibilities of or the allegories in the show of Hunter being a csa victim at the hands of Belos, many peoples responses are somewhere along the lines of “Belos wouldn’t do that! He’s a colonizer but he’s not THAT evil!” And it’s like.

Number one, that’s one of the big things that colonizers DO when it comes to their destruction, number two, it’s evident that people w those responses are coming from a place of thinking colonization is somehow a lesser evil. Something less close to home than SA is- when in fact it still happens, and people alive today are still affected by colonization. They go hand in hand. And not only is he a colonizer, he is a Christianity-adjacent religious figurehead, a group of people notorious for being perpetrators of SA.

Another thing I’ve seen is people responding with “but the Grimwalkers are clones of his brother, he wouldn’t feel that way towards him.”

SA is not about love. It’s about control and violence. It’s about doing harm. He clearly had no qualms about killing his brother or desecrating his corpse to create Grimwalkers, so why would that be “too far?” Belos has shown time and time again that nothing is too far for him, he’s not above anything.

Lastly when people question where the headcanon even came from, it’s mostly with victims seeing themselves in Hunter, seeing patterns, and for me it’s mostly the allegorical implications of the possession. Someone taking control of your body and making you do things you don’t want to do? Rot inside you leaving scars, physical or metaphorical, that last? That violation is all too familiar.

Idk. I just have a lot of thoughts about it and seeing people immediately jump to “oh if you have this headcanon then you’re clearly a weirdo who secretly gets off to it” is such. A disservice? And disrespectful even? Calling this facet of trauma “too much” or “too taboo” does nothing to help real life victims and survivors, and in fact it makes them feel like they can’t talk about it at all. One in five people have been victims of csa in their lifetime, think about that the next time you go to a grocery store. Abuse is abuse, and seeing familiarities in fiction shouldn’t be written off as perverse just because of the nature of it. Idk.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

a mix-up of good omens-coded songs (idk how to title this--)

Hellooo my maggots, so there were a number of songs that were just so good omens and ineffable lovers coded that I had to see how they sounded together. But me being me, I don't know how to actually mashup songs, so I just sang it the way I'd have wanted to mashup the songs and made it into one song.

Of course all songs remind us of Good Omens now, that's a different matter of significant concern. But these especially were very Aziraphale and Crowley's religious-trauma-and-being-queer vibey.

The songs I cover here are (in order and excluding repeats) Devil's Backbone by the Civil Wars, Take Me to Church by Hozier, Angel By the Wings by Sia, Falling by Harry Styles, Holy Water by Noah Davis, The Village by Wrabel and Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen.

And, well. Yep. The lyrics in the order that I sing them are below the cut. Thank you maggots for dragging me into this brainrot it is painful and unholy and I love it here so so much. Thank you @falling-raine for yelling at me to post this. Wahoooooooo!

[LYRICS] Oh lord, oh lord, what have I done I’ve fallen in love with a man on the run Oh lord, oh lord, I’m begging you please Don’t take that sinner from me Oh, don’t take, take, take, take Take me to church, I’ll worship like a dog At the shrine of your lies, I’ll tell you my sins And you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death, good god, let me give you my life Oh lord, oh lord, what do I do? I’ve fallen for someone who’s nothing like you He’s raised on the edge of the devil’s backbone I just want to take him home Oh, I just want to take, take, take So take an angel by the wings, Beg her now for anything,  Beg her now for one more day Just take an angel by the wings Time to tell her everything Ask her for the strength to stay What am I now? What am I now? What if I’m someone you won’t talk about? I’m falling again, I’m falling again I’m falling  I’ve walked through hell and back again Cause I’m a man who loves a man No you don’t need to pray for me No I don’t need your Holy water I don’t need your sympathy, sympathy, your— Holy water Just cause you think differently, differently There’s nothing wrong with you It’s true, it’s true There’s something wrong in the village, in the village Oh Coz I’ve been there, sitting in the same chair Whispering that same prayer half a million times It’s a lie though, buried in disciples One page of the Bible isn’t worth a life But I’ve heard there was a secret chord That David played and it pleased the Lord But you don’t really care for music Do ya? And it’s not a cry that you hear at night It’s not somebody who’s seen the light It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah Hallelujah.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee I love them so much.

[c1oud999]

hi

i just wanted to come on here and talk about my experience with spirituality. warning: longggg post ahead.

basically ive been in the spiritual community for YEARS now. ive had existential crisis since the age of 11 and ive gone through many phases of many different spiritual trends. from law of attraction, to witchcraft, to religious devotion, to law of assumption and now finally non dualism. i read books, meditated for hours and hours, talked to spiritual ppl from all walks of life and watched all the episodes of ganga upanishad (a show i still highly recommend, you can watch on youtube). all this childhood trauma and mental illness made me crave for sweet relief. but nothing really made sense until law of assumption. i thought that that would be it yk. i thought i was done searching but i think that was when i was searching for things the most. i do know i have it in my 4d, when will i see it? i thought i would get all my desires but did not meet success. and then the non dualism trend began and i hopped onto it like pretty much everyone else. i was bewildered at the stuff teachers kept saying. what do you mean everything's an illusion? there's no way that's true. my very real surroundings are causing me VERY real pain and suffering. oh no no there must be a deeper meaning behind all this. and so i read all the books in 4dbarbies drive, but nothing clicked. yes it made sense intellectually, but i didnt want to believe it bc where is the materialisation satisfaction here? also i felt none of the euphoria that was supposed to come with self realisation. which means i must not be a realised being. and then i cried and cried and cried, isolated myself, literally stopped going to school and just lay in bed all day. but ofc, i continued to read the tumblr posts like i had been doing for the past several years. and yesterday i read 4dkelly's post about giving up. it made sense. by the time i had finished reading the post i had truly given up on everything. on wanting, hoping, fearing, striving etc etc. i was SO tired. so i gave up. fell asleep. i woke up really late as usual and missed the school bus. i ate breakfast in silence, switched the tv on and lied down on the couch like always. and like always out of compulsion and force of habit i reached for my phone and looked up non dualism on twitter. and then i came across a tweet that said a simple sentence only- "nothing is ever actually happening." woah. that kinda drove me to the edge of the cliff i desperately wanted to jump off. i turned on some dnb background music and turned the shower on. i stood under the boiling hot water like some dramatic bitch and started piecing together the "puzzle". it all made so much sense now. i got out of the shower and left the house for the first time in months with a cute outfit and makeup on and everything. i went to the mall, bought candles, stickers, eye masks, coffee, and a doughnut with absolutely no social anxiety at all. i sat by window, read some poetry on my e-reader, cried, peered down at the floor below me and cried some more at the sight of little kids sitting on santa's lap and taking pictures and marveled at all the christmas decorations around me. it was insane. i decided i was going to be neutral towards everything but im in love. maddeningly so. in love with this dream that i thought did not love me back. but love is all there is. I AM ALL THERE IS. and i need you to take this literally. there is nothing happening. there is nothing here except you. nothing to fear, nothing to desire. ik a lot of people are going to dismiss this post because it's not a "materialisation success story" but i honestly dont think i can ever want anything physically bc in all its true essence, what is there to materialise? i am already whole and complete. i am lying on this cold hard floor, but i have never felt warmer. also ik there may be a lot of things ive written you might not agree with but again, this is NOT REAL. I AM. i hope this post helps you.

thank you to all the blogs ive come across and all the pointers they have shared: @se1f @realisophie @itgomyway @4dkellysworld @4dbarbie-backup @infiniteko @iamthat-iam and many more i cannot thank enough.

lots and lots of love (more than you can ever imagine), and good luck.