#outreach is GOOD just make sure you're actually helping

[qqueenofhades]

Do you have an recommendations for volunteer opportunities for humanities students? I feel like a lot of charities that encourage undergraduates to apply are looking for STEM students

It depends on what you want to do and what charities you're looking at. I'm not entirely sure what you mean about them preferring STEM students; is this something that is actually stated on their website, implied by their field of activism(s), or just something that you feel is more likely due to the fact that STEM students are (alas) preferred to the humanities in other areas of life? Most charities are usually eager for volunteers of any particular background, especially if you're interested in the work and/or their mission, so I would encourage you to examine that idea a bit more and see where it actually comes from. As I said, most places that rely in any part on volunteer labor are going to be eager to have people, so yeah, don't sell yourself short.

If you want to do something particularly related to the humanities, museums and libraries always need help, and would look good for adding to your CV and making professional connections if you plan to build a career in your field of study. If you want to join, say, an activism-focused charity (i.e. insert your political issue of choice here), your academic background doesn't matter and you're likely to have any number of choices. You can always volunteer for immigration assistance or women's rights or LGBTQ+ rights or climate change advocacy organizations, etc., if you want to be doing something that makes a real-world difference and lets you work in political or social spheres. If that is less appealing to you, there are surely outreach groups and student services offices at your university (I assume you are at university) that exist entirely for matching students with volunteer and work opportunities. I would 100% recommend that you take advantage of them; after all, those are your tuition dollars at work! Make an appointment with whatever iteration of the Student Success Center on campus, tell them what you're interested in, and see what they have to say. Tons of places are eager to have college students in volunteer roles, internships, or part-time paid work placements, and that is by no means limited to STEM students.

You can likewise volunteer for something education-focused (i.e. tutoring, reading, writing support) if you want to do some kind of teaching or mentoring, but again, that's just an idea, and you don't have to pick anything simply Because You Are A Humanities Student and think that's what you should and/or need to be doing. As I said: talk to the people on your university campus whose job it is to find these placements for students, instead of you having to do it all yourself, and see what they have to offer. I bet you can find something that works for you, is interesting, and which is eager to have you too.

[iturbide]

i'd love to hear some tidbits (fun facts???) abt amber and itzal if you're willing to share!!

OH I WOULD LOVE TO SHARE TIDBITS ABOUT THE BOYS 💖

Amber

The Bright Prince, second in line for the throne of the Radiant Court after his older sister Bertine

(White-haired anime boy but he's a himbo)

Little bit of a party boy, mostly just wants to have a good time and make sure his friends are having fun too

0 interest in the actual workings of the Radiant Court, really only does social facing public outreach stuff to help out his sister

Has lived in the capital his whole life with occasional visits to other major cities

Has a sword and knows how to use it, even if it is supposed to be mostly ornamental

(Deeply prejudiced where it comes to rural culture and country beliefs, dismissing it as superstition or tall tales)

(He means well though and he can change his mind, it just takes a bit of a hard knock to get him going in the right direction)

Itzal

The Shade King, appointed leader of the Shrouded Court now that his mentor has stepped down and named him her successor

(Maybe has a death wish but won't admit it)

Awkward conversationalist, often loses his train of thought and tends to be a little scattered

Tends to be very careless with his health and safety and has a reputation among his friends as an unrepentant daredevil

Was very frail in his early childhood, narrowly survived several bouts of grave illness

Got more hale once he hit his teenage growth spurt, but still believes he's living on borrowed time

(Has a lot of deep-seated and justifiable anger toward the Radiant Court for their treatment of their country 'vassals')

(Also has a lot of prejudice against magitech on the whole and is pretty resistant to changing his mind about that)

[somelazyassartist]

I've been feeling really isolated as an artist here on Tumblr, especially lately. It wasn't so bad when I could go out and get social interaction in the real world, but now that I'm housebound by my disabilities it's become so much more obvious to me how little interaction I get these days. And I don't just mean, like, note counts. While it's very nice to get a few reblogs which spreads my art around to more people (which could theoretically help with some of my issues but isn't the source of them) the numbers themselves aren't REALLY what's bothering me. I used to feel like I was part of a community here. I used to make art, and people would comment on it, and I'd draw more art responding to their comments, and onward. I made some very good friends in the past because I drew something for their fic and they responded, or vice versa where someone would write or draw something in response to what I made. Didn't have to be more art or writing, just making simple easy comments and going back and forth, asking and answering questions. And even when people didn't talk to me about things, they still shared them, and showed my work to other people, which made me feel like I was good enough to be worth sharing. It's like if 4 years ago I started learning to bake cakes for a party, and while they were kinda messy looking people would still take a piece and I got to know that even if they didn't directly tell me they liked it, it was good enough that people did like it and wanted more- and some people would tell me directly, which felt wonderful! And now 4 years later I've started making fancier and more elaborate cakes with my new skills, even if it's still not bakery-worthy, and I'm proud of the progress I've made. But now when I bring the cake to the party, the whole time everyone avoids it, and I know it's not out of malice or dislike of my work but it still sucks to get to the end of the party and see that only one or two bites were taken out of the whole cake you were so proud of and excited to share with everybody. Sure, maybe a lot of my interaction used to come strictly from the fact I made primarily fandom art, and had much less focus on my own original work, so I just joined a preexisting community. But even with that it hasn't been the same nowadays. Even most fandoms I post for now barely feel like I'm joining a community and more like I'm just adding another piece into an algorithm, and forcing myself to make fandom artwork just trying to get a bit more outreach and communication when I would rather be putting my limited energy into making original things I really want to make so much more is just exhausting, and frustrating, and is so easy to burn me out of art completely. I don't want to have to force myself to make art I don't care about just to try to feel like I'm a person and an artist here and not a content machine to be looked at once and moved on from.

I don't know. I've had more motivation and love for artwork than ever before lately. I've started animating again after a 4 year hiatus, because I found my love for working in the genre again with the help of my friends making a wonderful story and very kindly including me alongside them, and encouraging me to do more original work based on it. I can't remember the last time I had fun with digital art, but I do again. It's been more fun these last few months than it ever has been in my life.

But it's hard to have the most love and excitement for your work than you ever had before, and realize you're one of the only few people* here out in the whole of the internet that actually cares about it.

[covenofthearticulate]

❤️ + Daniel/Lestat

Oooh an interesting rare-pair!! I feel like I have to put a disclaimer that I'm not very well-versed in these two but I hope these are still fun to read anyway

Who is the most affectionate? In terms of physical affection, I think they're actually an even match! Lestat finds it much easier to express his affection through a little shoulder squeeze or an embrace. He's so damn touch-starved but at the same time he's so used to making up elaborate excuses to be able to connect with others, so I think Daniel would actually do a really great job at teaching Lestat to let go of those things and just be more casual, more modern in his physicality, y'know?

Who initiates the handholding? Lestat but only because Daniel still isn't sure it's like? allowed??? he's still kinda weirdly intimidated by him but in a totally different way than he was ever intimidated by armand. like lestat is an icon and a god and also his prince but also his boyfriend's boyfriend and also daniel knows so many intimate details about lestat's life so ANYWAY this is all to say that even though he laughs in the face of any idea of regency or title or ranking, deep down he sometimes gets overwhelmed by how Important lestat is and forgets that he's allowed to like....treat him like a person

Who worries more for the other? They both worry about each other, actually. Daniel probably does a bit more worrying, if only because it's Lestat who is more consistently in trouble. Daniel also tends to keep his problems very close to his chest, whereas Lestat spirals very loudly and publicly lmao

Who is more likely to ask for help? Depends on what help is needed. If it's "How do I send a gif in the group chat?" or "What the hell is Armand thinking right now?" they lean on each other pretty freely. In terms of Actually asking for help though...it's complicated. Neither one of them are very good at that kind of outreach, but actually because they're not quite as deeply entrenched in each other's lives as someone like Louis or Armand, that actually makes it easier to ask for help. They offer each other some really valuable perspectives— Lestat is much wiser than anyone gives him credit for and he's much more optimistic than Armand or Louis, so sometimes Daniel really depends on that light to see him through. And Daniel is so good at stepping back and assessing the actual stakes of any situation. Lestat tends to think that any minor inconvenience is the end of the world (Armand was totally right with that "gutter theatrical comment LOL) so Daniel sits him down and is like "Okay, so maybe you need to cut your losses. Big deal. Move on. You're gonna be fine."

Who is the one always losing the keys? Lestat :)

Who leaves little love notes for the other? They both do!! Although Lestat's are slightly more apologetic (He's always leaving little "Sorry. Love you —xo Lestat" notes on broken tv's or shattered vases or some shit LMAO)

Who can’t sleep unless the other is there? Lestat will die before sleeping in an empty bed. He stays up the latest out of all the vampires, which means he gets the pleasure of sneaking into Daniel's room once he's asleep and just making himself at home.

Who is more likely to propose to the other? Daniel is the one who "formally" invites Lestat into the fold. It happens in bed one night, closer to dawn. Armand and Louis have settled in their own room and Lestat jokes that Daniel is "stuck with him" for the day, but Daniel just smirks and pulls him close and tells him how he's glad to be with him, and that this...thing they have, whatever it is, between he and Louis and Armand...it's nice.

Who introduced the other to their family first? Technically Danny read all about Lestat's family in his book LOL

Who is more likely to play with the other’s hair? Surprisingly it's Lestat who plays more with Daniel's hair! He's fascinated by it, the way it's forever clipped short unlike his own. It makes the hair fall differently on his head and it's full of so many different textures (the front bangs are fun but Lestat likes just kinda scratching at the fuzzy hair at the nape of Daniel's neck).

Who makes sure the other has meals/stays hydrated? They're both actually really good at this in a way no one else really is. Sure, Louis and Armand have both had their bouts of depression-induced starvation, so of course they understand and are sensitive, but they also tend to be quite...worrisome lovers. Daniel and Lestat are so chill. They trust each other in a different way than they trust anyone else.

Who is more likely to stand up to anyone for the other? Daniel speaks his mind for better or for worse LOL but of course when it comes to physical protection, Lestat has absolutely made (and possibly carried through on?) threats to burn up any new fledgling vampire that tries to start shit with Daniel

Who is the most likely to prepare a surprise for the other? Lestat's love language is surprises lmfao listen he's so terrified that people will get bored with him so he's always plotting something. He likes surprising Daniel with things he can actually use (rather than things to dress him up in like Armand tends to do). Tickets to whatever sports team he follows, baggy jackets that he knows Armand will hate, a rare vinyl he mentioned he used to love in college, etc.

Who makes the other pinky promise not to do certain things? Daniel very much regrets teaching Lestat to pinky promise LOL

Who puts a blanket over the other when they fall asleep on the couch? Lestat :)

[aniseandspearmint]

i’ve been thinking about talking about this for a while, trying to find the exact right way to phrase things, but idk i’m just gonna ramble and hope someone catches my drift here.

I’ve been seeing lots of groups doing private outreach to homeless people, things like making bagged lunches for them and bags of toiletries.

This is VERY good. Cool stuff. THANK YOU.

There are some issues tho. Things I think people might not be considering when they do this.

First is, the food I’m seeing most often is Peanut butter and Jelly sandwiches. I know peanut butter is cheap, it lets you make lots of bagged lunches. The problem here is there are approximately 3 million people allergic to peanuts in the united states alone. I know, off the top of my head, about twenty people with mild to severe peanut allergies. The chances of you handing out a sandwich to someone that just can’t eat it is higher than you’d think.

I’m not saying don’t use peanut butter! I’m not. Just- ASK the people your handing food out to about allergies. Don’t just toss them/hand them a bag and walk away.

And have a few alternate bags ready. Prepare something else (bologna, cheese, canned chicken, etc), in a separate area to avoid cross-contamination. 

Another mistake I see people making is handing out bagged lunches in summer with condiments already on the bread. Unless the sandwiches are refrigerated, the mayo WILL curdle and make the sandwich inedible within an hour or so. So you wasted the food, the person you gave it to will have to throw it away or risk getting sick eating it (think about the last time food made you sick, and think about not having immediate access to a restroom or somewhere safe to rest while being that sick). If you’re making a sandwich that requires mayo or mustard, get some little packets to toss in, I’m begging you. If you can, see if you can find some of those little disposable icepacks. Last I checked you could still buy them for under a dollar.

Most importantly, and wow this is really hard to phrase right, I’m giving it a go and I’m gonna try not to get too emotional here. When you’re making these, when you’re preparing food bag at a foodbank, when you’re cooking and plating out food for a meal program, think about what YOU would want to eat. Like, I’m seeing some of these church groups and outreach whatevers handing out food I would honest to god not give a dog with the attitude that, ‘oh, these people are homeless, they’ll take whatever we give them and be grateful!’ 

Yeah, no, can’t not get emotional, sorry.

It pisses me off SO MUCH.

No.

No no NO. How DARE they say that shit about another person, standing there all sanctimonious as they hand someone who might not have eaten anything in DAYS a plate of undercooked unseasoned potato chunks and unseasoned green beans and turkey they cooked (overcooked) the day before and not even bothered to reheat. Of course the person will take it, eat it, they haven’t eaten after all, but it kills them just a bit more inside because the people serving it out couldn’t make it plainer to them that they don’t see them as human.

They are helping someone. These people are not lesser than them, these people are PEOPLE. If you would not serve the food you are handing out to your own family, you should be ashamed of yourself. 

(Thanksgiving/Christmas Meal programs I AM LOOKING AT YOU. Especially the one that shall remain nameless that I tore into about five years ago and was hung up on by. And all the foodbanks I’ve been to that were honest to god handing out moldy cakes and WAY expired goods.)

[traumacatholic]

A question about evangelizing. I know there's more to the message but "Convert now or a very angry God will throw you into a lake of fire forever and ever" doesn't seem like the best way to draw people to God. I don't remember how we talked about it in school but I'm sure that if I'd heard any version of those words for the first time, I would have done it out of pure fear.

When I was in primary school, and around like 8 or so years old, we had a Protestant Youth Group visit us who spent a few hours telling us the same thing. I'm not sure what kind of Protestants they were, I believe the wider youth group that they're a part of is 'non-denominational'. And I don't think it was a very compelling argument for anyone there. Especially when you're 8 years old and being told that you deserve hellfire for lying or not doing your homework.

Ultimately, arguments about hellfire or telling someone that the way they live isn't pleasing to God is probably not helpful for most people. Because they have little to no relationship with God, and therefore why would they a) understand the arguments for pleasing Him and b) care. It would be like someone approaching you on the street and criticising you in the name of someone called 'John'. Who would John be? Why should I change my life for him? Why should I care what John thinks? But some people aren't able to step out of the perspective of having a relationship with God and wanting to please Him, so they don't know how to engage with people that don't have that relationship. Some people who grew up in religious households and/or attended religious schools genuinely don't understand what it means to be brought up in non-religious households or go to a school where religion is kind of glossed over.

I think when it comes to evangelisation, while we are all called to do it in some aspect. Not all of this should be about making ourselves some kind of personality that 'converts people'. I think first and foremost it leads to being really prideful and it ignores the relationship with God that the people we've been in contact have developed themselves - even if we were the ones to make someone actually consider developing that relationship. And I also think it leads to a poor understanding of what converts people. Some people approach evangelisation from a perspective where they don't actually like or care for other people, it's just about making themselves feel good about themselves. And this can really harm people, and it can prevent people from wanting to connect with God.

Every single person we meet is unique. And because of this, they have unique needs, beliefs, values, and so on that we must understand and consider when we try our best to engage with them. We need to see their humanity beyond just seeing them as some kind of point we'd get if they converted. We need to see their humanity, value, and worth beyond just disagreeing with the way they're living their life. This isn't just about evangelisation, but also in general. We can't just take the same message, the same way of conversing, and apply it to everyone we meet with no regard for the other person. Likewise, we can't pretend to be an expert on every topic and we need to find a more compelling way of helping someone understand a topic beyond just telling them to 'read the Bible'.

I think for anyone looking to be an Apologist, they need to find a specific niche. You might seek to develop community with people from your past faith background, or your past life circumstances be it someone who does outreach work to addicts or people living in poverty. You need to be able to relate and understand where they are currently in their life journey and want to support people beyond just a general one off conversation. And I think you really need to consider whether being an Apologist in this kind of sense is for you. Or whether you're called to represent the Church and the Faith through living your life and setting a good example that way. Unfortunately, some people in their earnest to share the Good News do so in a way that is harmful to their neighbour.

[triplexdoublex]

Scotty Doesn’t Know

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/tags: smut, cheating

A/N: based off this old song Scotty Doesn’t know from the movie Euro Trip. Colson has a small lesser known band in this fic. https://youtu.be/7_AKr1BEajA

“Does Scotty know you're here?” Colson asks as you unbuckle his pants

“No! What do you think I am? Stupid?” You question dropping to your knees.

“So, what’s your plan y/n, you just gonna string him along forever. C’mom already I want you to myself.”

You pull him free from the confines of his jeans “Can we talk about this later?”

“Y/N!” Colson scolds at your attempt to avoid the conversation for the umpteenth time.

“Sorry it’s not polite to talk with your mouth full,” you respond coyly before stuffing your mouth with him.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me!” He groans, pushing your hair out of your face and wrapping it around his fist. “You’re lucky you’re so fucking good at this!” He grits between his teeth slowly rocking his pelvis as he holds you in place, your cheeks hollowing around him as you suck.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you quickly try to silence it with your free hand before Colson hears but it’s too late; he lets out an annoyed groan and you know he heard it— Knows who it is . You distract him, sucking him harder, faster and cupping his balls — you know he loves it when you play with them. He’s told you on occasion that your head game is so good it could make him forget his own name; you’re just hoping now that it’s good enough to forget your boyfriend just texted in the middle of it, because the last thing you wanna do is talk about it … again.

************

Long after you’ve swallowed him down, you’re content with yourself thinking just maybe you really did make him forget about the mid-head text from your boyfriend when all of a sudden he springs it on you. “Did you text him back?”

“Who?” You feign innocence.

“Y/N don’t play stupid, you know who!”

“Oh, Scotty?”

“Yes, fuckin-Scotty. Who else?”

“Yeah, I just said ‘sorry I missed your text I was at church.”

“CHURCH!” Colson chokes out a laugh. “Just because you were on your knees on a Sunday morning , doesn’t count as church. Why can’t you just tell him the truth and break up with him already?”

“He’s my best friend's brother. It’s complicated. She made me promise I wouldn’t break his heart.”

“Sooo fuckin’ me behind his back is your solution to that?”

“Until I can figure out a way to let him down easy and not destroy my relationship with my best friend, yeah.”

“Solid plan,” he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Be a shame if he found out about us before then.”

“You wouldn’t!” You can’t tell if you're scolding or pleading .

“I might,” he smirks.

“Colson, please!” —Pleading, you’re definitely pleading.

“Oh, relax Y/N, I’m not gonna tell him— maybe just help the poor fuck figure it out on his own.

*********

By noon he’s got you on your knees again— hands and knees to be exact, pushing into you from behind.

“Oh fuck Colson, just like that!”

“Yeah, you like this dick, huh? Better than Scotty’s I bet!” He grips your hips roughly and snaps his hips forward. “Who fucks you better, him or me?” He taunts.

“You!” You answer without hesitation. He knows it’s the truth you’ve often complained about having to fake it with Scotty.

Just then your phone goes off blaring Scotty's ringtone

“Speak of the devil… Answer it!” He demands.

“Colson are you —?”

“I’m not playing — answer it or I’m not gonna let you finish!”

“Fuck— fine.” You reach down off the bed to the floor to retrieve your phone, while Colson keeps a firm grip on your waist, making sure he stays buried in your warm cunt. “Hel-lo” you answer, failing miserably to disguise how out of breath you are.

“Y/N? You alright?” Scotty questions.

“Sorry… umm yeah. I just—” you pause to suppress a moan “— I just ran to grab the phone.”

“Oh ok, I was just calling cuz the guys wanna take me out next weekend for my birthday but I didn’t know if you had anything planned for us already?”

Oh fuck, his birthday— you completely forgot. “Well… yeah, I did” you lie. “But it’s okay, go with your friends we can do something the weekend after.” You already have plans to attend one of Colson’s bands gigs this weekend anyways.

“Thanks, babe. You’re the best!”

Colson’s blood boils at the pet name. “Fuck” he drives his hips into you as hard as he can. Your teeth pierce into your lip as you bite back a moan.

“What was that!?” Scotty asks.

“The TV,” you answer quickly.

“Mmmm, you are so bad, baby,” Colson whispers into your flesh as he kisses between your shoulder blades. “I can tell you’re close, don’t hang up til you cum.”

“Oh whatcha watching?” Scotty inquires.

“Ummm… Horror movie— shit!” You choke out.

Colson brushes your hair of the nape of your neck and nuzzles into the crook.“C’mon baby, cum for me,”

“Must be really scary— you seem on edge.”

If he only knew how close to the edge you actually are right now .

“Yeah it’s really s— oh FUCK holy shit!” You scramble to hang up the phone as your orgasm hits; Colson’s following moments later.

“Uhh, Y/N! Fuck!” His moans are loud and exaggerated.

“I already hung up, dipshit!” You playfully punch him

In the arm after he pulls out.

You pick your phone back up and shoot Scotty a text ‘sorry, jump scare. I accidentally hung up.’

********************

“Five minutes til stage.” A voice announces from behind the backstage curtain. Today’s the day of Colson’s band's big gig, and coincidentally Scotty’s birthday.

“Perfect timing.” Colson smirks as he pulls his pants back up over his ass and you button your top. “Nothing like a little backstage quickie, before a show.” He kisses you then heads to the stage; you take side stage, hanging out near the crew and equipment.

“How we all doing tonight?!” Colson shouts into the mic. The crowd cheers lively in response. “Aight, that’s what I like to hear! I’m gonna start out with a new song about someone special; the sexiest little sex kitten I know!” He looks to you. “Y/N get your sexy little ass up here!”

You blush as you climb the few stairs that lead to the stage taking Colson’s outreached hand and he pulls you up. Your stomach sloshes with nerves and excitement, simultaneously eager to hear Colson’s song about you and concerned about this getting back to Scotty somehow. You try to push Scotty to the back of your mind and just enjoy Colson song about you … until it starts —

“Scotty doesn't know that Y/N and me

Do it in my van every Sunday

She tells him she's in church but she doesn't go

Still she's on her knees and Scotty doesn't know ”

Oh, Scotty doesn't know

So don't tell Scotty

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

So don't tell Scotty”

Your hand flies up to cover your gaping mouth as he continues to sing— each line more divulging than the last. You can’t help but laugh and decide to throw caution to the wind at this point and begin to jump and dance along. Colson sneaks up behind you as he reveals more and more of your secrets into the mic, wrapping a hand around your neck as he snaps his hips forward against your ass.

“I can't believe he's so trusting

While I'm right behind you thrusting

Y/N’s got him on the phone

And she's trying not to moan

It's a three-way call and he knows nothing, nothing”

It’s as Colson sings one of the songs most incriminating lines—“I did her on his birthday” — that you notice a familiar face in the crowd making their way to the front. “Which is today by the way” he ad libs.

“SCOTTY!!” You gasp.

“Oh shit it’s Scotty!” Colson announces and then opts for a lyric change — “Scotty does know , Scotty does know!”

[cowboyjen68]

If it's not too personal, can I ask what your relationship is with religion - if you're religious, or how religious communities affect you/have affected you in the past regarding your sexuality, and how you've navigated it? I'm bisexual living in the midwest too and I struggle a lot with my religion and the religious culture out here

I was actually quite lucky for a midwest kid. I don’t recall ever going to church with my parents. Mom mentioned once or twice that she was raised Methodist, but that was about it. At best, by mom was apathetic towards religion, although she probably believed in Chistianity on some level simply because that is “what you do”.  Dad said he’d never waste time in a church except for weddings and funerals because mom said he had go. He was, in practice, if not consciously an athiest. None of us kids were baptised.. .they figured we could decide when we were older.  My oldest brother (he passed away)  and I are athiests. My sister’s husband gave up real estate to be a Lutheran Minister and my brother and his wife are some sort of born again Christians. 

My neighbors until fourth grade helped raise me and their family was very close to mine.. we vacationed together and everything. They were Catholic and I attended church with them..I mostly remember Bingo nights. When I was older my best friend from 4th grade on was Lutheran and went with her sometimes. My mom was not above shoving me off to any old free church day camp just to keep me busy so I was exposed to a lot of stuff. In my early teens my sister in law took me to her church and they had a band and talked in “tongues” and danced. I was unimpressed, but they gave me a free shirt with the devil on it and a big red circle and line through him… so..that was cool. 

I have a minor in religion. By college I pretty much thought all religion was a man made construct to control people. I still do. But I also saw they value in the community they offered people who needed to find that.  I have studied all of the major religions and many minor ones. While I don’t believe any of it, I also respect the fact that people can choose what suits them and it is not for me to judge. 

However, I could not always escape the pressures of religion. Christianity really perminates every aspect of our lives in America. From day one it teaches such wonderful (sarcasm) little ideas such as women are less, we are “unclean”. Children are something that are owned. Animals have no souls, therefore feel no pain and on and on. Any old bullshit that will make it easier to control the majority of the people AND to make cruelty okay.  

I have seen many LGBT kids and their parents damaged by their inability to reconcile their religion with the reality of their orientation or gender ID. I want to yell “drop the religion..it is not real… you don’t need it.. you need your family and they need you”.  What I am supposed to say is “ maybe find another church that accepts LGBT”. 

It took me going to college and studying religion to really figure out how much of a false foundation (based on religion) we build so much of our hate, anger, self loathing upon. Once I realised that, it was easy to start rethinking all of those things and understanding why some people can’t let go of their religion even for those they love. 

At our gay pride we have vendors from the Jewish synagogue and 5 or 6 Christan Churches, but I also invited  the Athiests and Humanists. Next year I will be inviting the Church of the Flying Spahgetti Monster and The Satanic Temple (not about satan at all--look them up.. their tenent are AMAZING) Like many LGBT people I do not trust the intentions of Christianity OR other religions so I make  sure that I have many sides represented at Gay Pride and in any vendor events. I have noticed that I do not have to outreach to Christian Churches.. they find me.. 

I am lucky because I don’ t need religion to validate me or to make me feel safe in my world.  In fact, I would feel more safe if they went away. I treat everyone and their beliefs about religion with kindness and respect, even if inside I am thinking “WTF?” I rarely challenge someone who is using religion to justify hate. First “Easy Target”. Second I don’t really care what they think and third. IF they are that far devoted into a belief system, I don’t want to waste my time. 

Our “Christian” history is flawed and, in general quite awful.  There are churches out there who are “accepting and affirming” their words..not mine. So if you need that.. find one if that if what you need/want.  DON”T join a shitty church or stay with one because You can change it from the inside. Walk away. Not your burden to bear.  When Catholic School teachers are fired for being gay WHY IS ANYONE surprised? Same with staying with a church that hates something about your very being. Find a better place that does not cause you harm.

I teach my kids: Beware of any religion (or person)who bases their “love” on conditions. Or if you see that a religion has a history of hate, mis behavior, misogony, and then start talking a good game (The Pope is master of vague supportive speech--knowing full well the religion will not change) beware of their intentiions. 

Links below are  for some Non religion religions that help people to understand how our religious foundation is basically built on sand and lies and there are better ways and communites that exist if you need that. 

https://thesatanictemple.com/pages/tenets

https://www.venganza.org/

[mileycfan4eva33]

Fandom: SVU

Title: Covenant From The Heart

Chapter 1: Violent Moment

P O V: Amanda Rollins

(A/N: Noah, Jessie, Billie do not exist in this fic. I own nothing except my ideas and original characters. All others belong to Wolf Entertainment and NBC.)

Saturday, June 2020

Christopher Street, New York, NY

"I hope you don't mind

I hope you don't mind

That I put down in words

how wonderful life is while you're in this world."

The radio plays as I sit inside the back of the Covenant House Van across from my Captain Olivia Benson, along with two trained Crisis Counselors from Covenant House, New York. Andrea O'Sullivan and Robert "Bobby J" Rodriquez. "Thanks for coming again with me, Amanda."

My smile is tight as I look back at Olivia there is a sadness in her eyes as we turn towards each other. "You're welcome, Liv, did Kat give any reason as to why she couldn't make it tonight?" "her mom has to work a double, and they couldn't find a babysitter last minute on a Saturday."

"Yeah, I hear that could be hard." Olivia sips her coffee, trying to keep warm. "I never mind helping Captain. Covenant House is such an amazing place Olivia, I'm always happy to volunteer for whatever they need."

"Thank you, detective Rollins we try. It isn't easy when we have 20,494 youth who are homeless." Andy's statement sends tremors down my spine. I try to hide the fact that I am shivering, as a cop, I knew those statistics. The number of homeless children in the United States is at its highest in more than a decade.

I can even break down the statistics that roughly 800,000 children are reported missing each year in the United States that's 2,000 kids who go missing every day in the USA. There are 115 child stranger abduction cases, LGBTQ youth represent as much as 40% of the homeless youth population. Between 1.6-2.8 million youth runaway each year in the United States. Children can begin running as young as ages 10-14. The youngest are the most at-risk for the dangers of street life.

Too many people take the attitude of Children who runaway make their own decisions to go. Let them be, they've made their personal choice and must deal with the consequences. If they want to come home, they will. That is so wrong because once these kids hit the streets, they have hours of reaching an inner-city before they become targets for these pimps. Once the pimps get their hands on these kids, they no longer have a choice. They are property of those pimps, and these monsters would take a bullet before they lose their 'product.' It is estimated that many young people, especially girls, begin engaging in survival sex within 48 hours of leaving home. Sex for food and a place to stay can quickly escalate into formalized prostitution.

I've seen what happens to those kids after becoming branded; they learn quickly to harden themselves and trust no one. The treacherous environment in which they must learn to survive is heartbreaking. They do not always outwardly present as sympathetic victims. They also frequently suffer from short–term and long–term psychological effects such as depression, self-hatred, and feelings of hopelessness. These child victims also need specialized services that are not widely available given they often have illnesses, drug addictions, physical and sexual trauma, lack of viable family and community ties, and total dependence—physical and psychological—on their abusers.

"Amanda, do you want some coffee?" "no, thanks, Liv, I'm good." "Sure you are; that's why I can see those goosebumps on your arms, Rollins." Olivia's left-hand grazes across my left arm, which she has now caused to go stiff in fear. Olivia's touch, smile Liv has no idea how she effects me.

Every hair is standing at attention, my heart racing, face flushed. My brain stutters to find words to respond to Olivia. It should be simple to say those words to tell Olivia how I feel; this is 2020, not 1990. I shouldn't be afraid of rejection to tell someone I have a deep crush on that I have a crush. I've told more than a half of a dozen women in my past that I liked them. I am not ashamed to identify as a lesbian.

Which brings me to question why I haven't confided in anyone I have worked with over the past nine years. Swallow Amanda, just swallow and relax. Olivia has no idea how you feel; she isn't asking you to spill how you feel. She's asking you for a drink stop freaking out you'll look like a fool.

"No, I'm good save the coffee for the kids, they need it more than I do. I'm okay."

"Detective Rollins we have more than enough." that's a lie I know before it even escapes Andy's lips she's just being nice to us since it's rare for cops to volunteer to do ride a long's, the department does not sanction them. 1PP truthfully goes out of their way to discourage us from doing them because they are so dangerous because these pimps could recognize one of us and blow our covers in the future. Sometimes I think they fear we will become too sympathetic with a homeless kid because God forbid NYPD cops be human and understand what life on the streets is actually like; we might let these kids go when indeed we are forced to pick them up for simply trying to stay alive.

Saturday nights are one of the busiest nights in New York City, especially for the homeless population in our impact zones. Turning down Bleeker Street, which is alive with nightclubs blaring music. Flashing neon signs obnoxiously calling out $2 dance bars—other signs signaling their bars, clubs, stores. Panhandlers line every corner, many with bloodshot eyes, sniffling noses, and scanning the crowd from our blackened windows. I can see swindlers working in pairs trying to rob the tourists who unsuspectingly stroll among them the glittering, neon buildings. Many are walking with cell phones out, looking for directions.

Olivia and I both exchange a look knowing half of them will be robbed. There's so much we both want to say but don't. Drug deals go down in plain sight to the untrained eye. It would be easily missed, in between the blaring lights and smells of Colombian bakeries, beauty salons, Mexican restaurants, and bars like the Gentlemen's Club advertising beautiful female dancers. People along this stretch of road hand out business cards emblazoned with half-naked women or fruits and flowers all that advertise "Free Delivery" and typically list the hours of operation between 10:30 a.m. and 2:30 a.m. It's a cover, of course, the cards are marketing tools of brothels that have set up shop inside private homes and apartments.

As the hour is growing later, the tourists are fading away; the clubs are starting to shut down, and the other Christopher Street, the one never mentioned in magazines, or featured on the nightly news and morning talk shows comes alive. This is our Christopher Street teens strutted past in the dark, often stopping to air kiss, catcall, or sometimes brawl.

Young LGBTQ youth in platform thigh-high boots, buttocks-revealing denim shorts, red-pleather boleros with matching caps and tops of the backless, sleeveless, or even frontless variety, those on the nightly parade here do anything but hide. They compete for best outfit, /best moves in nightly dance battles that rage beside the Hudson River to the sound of a boombox on the pier at the end of the street.

The teens are beautiful, but the night-life here is ugly, violent, and scary; the teens themselves often fight turning violent. Customers drunk throw glasses, bottles, or try to take the girls, ripping hair out, beating them. Not every person working is trying to cause problems; of course, there are many just trying to get by to pay rent that now topples over $3,000. I can barely afford my apartment in Brooklyn with my salary.

Cops are lining every street, but we are not here as cops Olivia and I are riding with the covenant house team to help them reach the kids whoa re too afraid to find Covenant House or don't know that help exists. We are reaching to find kids who need food, warmth, and shelter. We provide sandwiches, beverages, ears to the kids if they are ready to tell their stories.

In the van we provide education about sex, pregnancies, STD prevention, we give them condoms. We let them cry, scream, ask questions, or sit in silence; we let the kids choose what they need when they need it. Many have never been given a choice of anything in their lives. We gain the kids' trust and, when ready, we will get them to our crisis shelters, where they're given love and support to permanently stay off the streets. Some stay only a few days and decide they aren't ready to give up the life they know. They have to be willing to be drug-free and make other commitments to stay at Covenant House. Some, however, remain with Covenant House and complete the whole program.

Frequently it takes multiple interactions before the kids will trust those of us on the outreach team enough to accept our offers of help they've simply been burned by adults too many times in their lives.

"So Captain Benson, my boss tells me you've been coming on these rides along's since you joined SVU in 1999. Any specific reasons?"

Andy's question perks my interests in the nine years I have known Olivia; I have never known the answer to this question myself. For the first six years, when I went on these outreach trips, I never knew she went along. I only found out three years ago when we were paired together by accident on a night when they had more volunteers than vans. I never asked myself for fear of having to answer the same question back; it's a part of my past. I have kept hidden for many years. I have no intention of starting to share that story now.

"I was on the job about two months with Special Vics when we came across the case of a fourteen-year-old girl who we had to arrest for selling drugs to her classmates, sometimes in exchange for sexual favors. The whole Squad called her Spoiled Sally because she came from the upper west side, went to a private school. She had all the advantages of a rich kid, yet she chose to squander her life by selling drugs."

"You thought there was more to her story though, Olivia, didn't you?"

"You know me well, Amanda." Olivia has no idea how well I know her how I have spent my whole adult life, and most of my teens years studying her career trying to be half the cop she is. Olivia has no idea that I listen to every conversation hoping to gather a new detail I didn't know already. I know her favorite, color, movie, TV show, her worst fears, her dreams. I know which ice cream flavor she likes best, her favorite spot for ice cream, who her favorite baseball team is, and which sport she hates the most. I know Olivia uses vanilla body lotion but hates vanilla ice cream.

My body shivers despite being June. The temperature is dropping fast the later it gets. "I did think there was more, so I started investigating further. Interviewing her friends, teachers, classmates. Came to learn Sally transferred schools six times over the last year, she had moved from city to city since she was six years old."

Olivia bites her lower lip as she laughs slightly "Amanda you'll love this part, my boss told me to drop it, or he would transfer me, I couldn't drop it, I defied his orders and kept digging. I matched her picture into enhanced facial recognizing came to discover our Spoiled little Sally was Marcella Marginals, a kidnapped girl from Mexico who vanished at age six when her family was on vacation over there. They let go of her hands for two minutes, and she was snatched. Marcella was smuggled into different cities by different men. Who caged her up like an animal beat her raped her, sold her from family to family."

"This last family was an elderly couple who never had kids of their own; the man who sold her to them kept weekly checks on her forced her to sell drugs for him. Raped her weekly to keep her in-line raped the wife weekly to keep the parents quite. When we went to collect Marcella, the bastard was there raping the wife, the husband an 82-year-old man who could barely move was tied to the chair. A battle broke out between the police and the pimp, Marcella was shot in the battle, by my gun. I was devastated. I felt as if it was my fault if I had left it alone, as my boss told me. Marcella would be alive no matter how hard her life was, at least she drew breath. Because of me, that sweet girl was dead."

"All my co-workers kept telling me it wasn't my fault; it was just part of the job. I had to accept it as God's plan. I couldn't though, I mean, how did God see that to be fair? How could any God justify a fourteen-year-old girl being raped, beaten suffering every day as okay?"

"So I headed to my favorite bar to get there I had to pass the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church, I wasn't raised in any dominant religion growing up, but I felt drawn to it. I felt like I needed to talk to God, to let him know how angry I was at him."

"At first, all I could do was sit there, staring at the candles, the altar, tears running down my face. I have no idea how long I sat there for; till I felt the gentle touch of Sister Mary Rose McGeady, she sat by me and listened to me. Then she said something to me that has stayed with me my whole life; she replied ours is not to ask God why; ours is simply to close our eyes and listen to our hearts, and believe God always has a reason why. It's hard at times, but I made a promise to God to listen; he has to lead me to my calling to help kids on the street, his kids."

"As you know at the time, Sister McGeady was the president of Covenant House from 1990-2003. She took me to the house and showed me the center; I spoke to counselors, volunteers, and the kids themselves. I fell in love with the mission, with the kids the staff. I knew I had to try to make a difference."

"I started doing the outreach van around 12 years ago, at first, it was just because it was always so short-staffed, not many people volunteer to do something so dangerous. Then it became another passion for me."

I reach over and take Olivia's hand "you know Marcella's death wasn't your fault, Liv. No more than Easter's was mine."

"I know Amanda, up here, I know that." She points to her head, "But in here." Olivia's hand moves to her heart. "that takes reminding I am sorry I couldn't comfort you after telling you about Easter, I should have held you talked to you instead of getting up and walking away. The memories of that day hit me so hard; I think I am moving on, and then I am hit with a wave of guilt so intense it takes my breath away."

"Liv, it's okay. I needed my Captain than you did what I needed. You gave me time to cry, scream you stayed in the room, so I knew you were there, but you gave me privacy. No one can take someone else to pain away. But having you in that room brought me comfort."

Olivia smiles at me as Bobby J speaks "You two should come Tuesday for our annual Sleep-out for Covenant House, we have a line-up of stars who are performing and over 1,000 people who have signed up to raise money for our kids by sleeping out."

"Yeah, sounds good, Amanda?" "I'm in for sure."

"So Miss southern sweet tea, what is your story? I know you got one." My body tenses at his suggestion I feel all eyes on me my heart races as my stomach twists. How am I suppose to get out of this one? "Don't be bashful to spill your game." Bobby J nudges me as I fight to keep my nausea from spilling out onto the van's floor. If Olivia knew the truth, she would never look at me the same ever again.

"Help me!" Loud, intense screams ricochet off the buildings in the side-street where we are parked; a young girl comes racing out of the cover of darkness shadow. So fast her legs stumble, but she doesn't allow herself to fall; she can't she's running for her life. Those skinny legs barely hold her body up, yet she hurls herself forward, never glancing back. I can hear her heavy breathing as she approaches "not here." she points to two streets over. Eyes glance at us. I see the pain and fear "My man he's watching he'll see me get in, I'm dead then, he'll know where to find me."

She's gone in a flash, hurling her skinny body down the side streets in a race for her life, dodging into different avenues. The van squeals to life as our driver Michelle steps on the gas, the girl's arms pump flying as she dodges cars, people she isn't quitting or playing. It's pitch black out here now except the glow of a few broken street lights.

Michelle flips off our headlights as we reach the street the girl wanted us to, we sit in silence the radio shut off now. Our heartbeats are the only sounds slowly. I get out my legs a little shaky from being crouched in a van for hours. Olivia follows me closely behind as seconds tick into minutes both of us praying her man as she called him didn't find her, which we know damn well means her pimp. Rustling has us both turning around I spot her first she comes running full speed towards us, fooling her pimp she had run around the block twice; New York blocks ain't no joke either, they are long.

This girl is in eight-inch heels her feet must hurt so bad I feel tears well up I can barely walk in those types of heels nerve mind run. The girl is only twenty- yards away from us. I can see the depth of fear in her cyan blue eyes. An ocean deep of pain she is so close to safety just within feet of being saved Olivia and I are both tense ready to grab her up. The squeals of tires alert us to a sense of danger; I don't think twice I take off "Rollins!" Olivia yells as I pump my legs harder than they have ever been pumped before. Hoping that this girl can see it in my eyes that she can trust me, she can reach better days if she reaches out, allows me to take her hands. Gets in this van with me, I can help her find the sunshine behind these rainy days. Sometimes one person can make a difference. I close my eyes every day I pray I can be that person.

My hands reach the girl at the very last second my lungs are screaming in pain, I can barely breathe my muscles are straining with every-step. "Grab my hands, don't let go no matter what I got you." My arms wrap around the girl's frail body as my feet make a sudden turn burning my heels. I pull her body racing to the van as doors fly open. "Rollins, get down!" Olivia screams as a hail of bullets rain down on us I push the girl into the van slam the door and bang on it. Michelle takes off my legs give out as I crash to the ground Olivia is returning fire. I can't breathe or think my legs are twitching in pain I can feel my blood filling my mouth as I start to cough.

I can't seem to focus on anything. Every breath is harder to inhale and exhale. "Amanda, it's Olivia we've got to move, they took off, but they'll be back we just cost them a major investment. Can you move at all?"

Olivia's arms lift me pain stabs me at every angle it's mild though so after a few breaths I can put pressure on my legs she doesn't let go of my arm though pulling me along with her as we race to meet the van a few blocks over. Sweat pours down my body as my stomach cramps I feel flushed. I'm losing blood I can feel how weak I am, but I have no idea where or how serious it is. "Amanda that was stupid as hell, we are off-duty you know the department does not cover any injury you get, any action you take as a citizen which means you face the same charges they face. No union rep to cover for you."

"Yeah, I know Liv, and it also means I don't have to play by the rules."

"Amanda, it doesn't mean you get to risk your life."

"It's mine to risk Olivia, and if you ain't willing to risk your life, why are you out here?"

"Uh! Why are all the bad-asses so damn stubborn!"

"That's what makes us hot."

"Yeah, I know that's why the bad-asses like you are always the one who looks the most fuckable."

My ears ring did Olivia Benson just say she wanted to what with me? I stop moving physically, yet my Vertigo didn't get the message. I can't speak all I can do is stare at Olivia, watch her long legs so muscular her statuesque frame so lean and beautiful, long dark hair loosely held back with a decorative clip. Her appearance takes my breath away. She smiles as she slowly moves us towards the van.

All I can do is picture her lying on top of me on her bed as she places her mouth over my clit. A direct hit, her gorgeous lips closing around it and lapping at it with her tongue. Her hands hold my hips as I try to buck against her face; she is a master at getting me off like this. I can feel an orgasm building in my walls, I can feel the heat rising as I writhe under her face, and just as she is about to push me over the edge, she inserts a single slender finger inside as she does I feel the first wave of fire rising and spreading through me. I come hard onto her hand as she rapidly pumps two fingers in and out while she sucks on my clit.

"Amanda, move!" My head peaks up from the daydream of Olivia, and I making love seconds too late as the car comes speeding towards us headlights as bright as the Georgia summer sun. Michelle rushes towards us, Andy and Bobby J throw open the doors. "Get in!" Olivia's hands push my body into the van's. I feel Andy and Bobby grab me pulling my limp body up as Olivia screams at Michelle. to"Go."

Wait, where is Olivia going? Why didn't she get in with me? Gunfire fills the air as I try to stand but am thrown back against the wall hard as Michelle takes off, tires squealing. "Calvin!" I hear Olivia's scream as my head slams into the floor, sending me crashing into a world of blackness. All I can do is pray; God keep Olivia safe.

A/N: For More information on how you can help Covenant House and Homeless Youth visit their website

Our Youth deserve a kinder, better world than the one we have today. Let us commit to building this world together. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13643440/1/Covenant-From-The-Heart