#group in high school to get out of the church i still love those other girls but we have so little in common now.

[zemnarihah]

my best friend has been very distant w me lately and i asked today if she wanted to hang out and she said she probably couldn't bc it's her brothers birthday but she would let me know if she could and i have her location and i just looked and she's at her boyfriends house rn....

#we have it bc we're roomates so we started sharing locations when we first moved in like in case someone doesn't come home at night or smth #she recently told me that she wants to move out bc she has always wanted to live alone and she can finally afford it. and i asked her #directly like is there an issue because she is so non confrontational so she has never ever mentioned me doing anything that bothers her #and i said please tell me if there's something wrong because it would really suck if there was and i never got a chance to fix it because #you never told me. and she said no it has nothing to do with that i really just feel like it's time for me to live on my own. and a couple #days ago she was like okay i'm next in line for my apartment i'll probably move out in april. and i try to get her to hang out still and #she always has something else going on and i swear every night this week she's been at her boyfriends. #and if i see her around our apartment and try to make conversation at all she's so like short about it and barely responds like will only #give one word answers. i feel like it kind of started when i started dating e but i realized that i was spending less time with her and i #didn't want to be the girl that loses all my friends bc of a boyfriend so i started specifically reaching out to hang out with her and she #says no most of the time and never asks me. like i don't know what else i can do. #i'm like maybe it's bc of her boyfriend? bc they've been on again off again for a long time and previously when they were together it was #really distant with her like i barely saw her EVER. and they were mostly broken up for the past couple years and have been together i think #for a while again... but she knows i don't approve of that relationship and so she would like not say when they were talking again. so maybe #since lately they've been hanging out or dating or WHATEVER she doesn't fucking tell me what's going on with him. maybe that's why. #i literally like try to think of ways it could be my fault and maybe i'm being crazy but i cannot even think to blame myself for more than a #fleeting second bc i'm like. i have ASKED HER directly if there is an issue or something i do that bothers her and she says no. so even if #i'm somehow pissing her off would i ever know to change anything?? i just feel so frustrated bc it's like she's an entirely different person #to me. like this is not the person i know. and i don't know what else i could possibly do like i feel like we need to sit down and have a #conversation about it but what good does that do if she just acts like nothing is wrong. but i don't want to lose my friend i have such a #hard time making friends. i've known her since i was 14 like i can't imagine my life without her. we were the only two in our whole friend #group in high school to get out of the church i still love those other girls but we have so little in common now.

[thefallennightmare]

The Promise-Andy Biersack

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Andy Biersack x OFC

Warnings: smut, language, angst(lots of it), a smidge of fluff, mentions of abuse, alcoholism.

Summary: High school was supposed to be some of the best years of a teenager's life; except for River. Those four years were hell, the only one that got her through it was her best friend, Andy. She thought he'd be by her side after graduation but after one night of giving each other something so treasured, life took both of them in different directions.

Almost ten years later, River and Andy meet again in a way neither of them expected.

Authors Note: This is my first time writing Andy Biersack but I'm very excited! As of now, it is a one-shot but might consider continuing it if people are interested!

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @concreteangel92 @flowery-mess @cookiesupplier @poppy-in-the-woods @viofcrows @sprokat @srorgana1 @bloody-delusion-expert

 “You don’t ever have to be alone, River,” his soothing voice cooed in my ear as he cupped my cheek. 

I looked up at him through the tears and choked on a sob. “Promise you’ll stay with me?”

He smiled that smile I fell in love with years ago. “I promise.” 

The sounds of yelling pulled me out of my thoughts in time to see a group of teenagers running past me on the street, youthful smiles on their faces. 

If they only knew what the future for them held. 

With the setting sun grazing over the streets of Hollywood as people made their way home from school or work, I was headed to work with my camera bag hanging on my shoulder and phone in my hand. I had the Maps app up giving me directions where I needed to go. It was going to be a long night at work for this music video shoot and I was already on my third cup of coffee, the feeling of caffeine still not flowing through my system. 

I spent the morning and afternoon bouncing between different shoots from clients and when I remembered I had booked this job taking pictures of a band's music video tonight, I cut the last photoshoot short by only a few minutes to make it in time. 

The company that booked me for this video shoot, Industrialism Films, didn’t tell me much about who the band was. They just told me to show up at seven p.m. and start working as soon as I was set up. It was going to be an all-night event and I needed to make sure to get shots of everyone in the band. 

Hence the third cup of coffee. 

It also hadn't helped that my mind had been plagued with memories of high school even ten years after graduation. Usually, I was great at pushing away those awful memories but the last few nights, those images of my past life kept clawing at me, dragging me down to the depths. I spent so long trying to crawl out of it and breathe that fresh air I desperately craved those four years of hell. 

The bullying. 

Eating alone in the bathroom stalls. 

The feeling of being so alone, I cried myself to sleep every night. 

The desperation of my home being a haven away from the mocking at school, only to have it worse there. 

Every single day of high school was miserable; except for one person. 

Him. 

My best friend and first everything; Andy. 

Until he left you to deal with the beatings alone so he could succeed with his band. 

Screwing my eyes shut tight to forget the sound of my dad's skin on mine, I turned the corner, and a large church and steps came into view. There were ropes blocked off around the perimeter, keeping outsiders away. As I reached a security guard, I pulled out my I.D. to show him. 

“River Murray. I’m the photographer,” I said. 

The guard glanced down to my I.D. then to the list in his hands and with a gruff of response, he let me walk past the ropes. 

“Have a great night,” I mumbled under my breath. 

Bodies were moving everywhere, and people were screaming over one another, but I was able to find the director of the shoot pretty quickly. He showed me a trailer where I could set up my things and once I was settled, I could start working. They didn’t care what pictures I shot, just as long as I got a lot of the band. 

“Who’s the band?” I asked Vincent, the director while setting my camera bag on the table inside the trailer. 

“Bloody veils? No that’s not right,” he scratched at the beard on his chin, trying to remember. “I don’t know. It's some metal band. I’ve only met them once before but they’re nice guys. It’s for their song Saviour II.” 

I nodded. “So I have free reign around here? As long as I don’t get in the shot right?” 

Vincent smiled. “You’ve worked on music video shoots before?” 

“Once or twice,” I shrugged. “I worked with Bad Omens on one and some local bands another time.” 

“Bad Omens?” He whistled low. “They’re one of the hottest bands right now. I’m surprised you aren't working with them.” 

“I dated their current photographer for a few months. He set up the shoot with them to help build up my portfolio,” I shifted on my feet, suddenly feeling uncomfortable divulging too much about my life to this stranger. 

A loud crackle and static came through Vincent’s radio. “Veil Brid-. They’re here.”

My heart stuttered in my chest for the briefest of moments but told myself to take a breath. It couldn’t be him; the radio cut off before finishing who was here, I was just in my head. 

“You’re beautiful, River,” he mused while kissing every inch of my bruised skin. 

Vincent clapped his hands which caused me to jump out of my thoughts and blinked wildly. 

“Alright, I’ve got to meet the boys and show them their trailers to get ready. Head out whenever you’re ready. There’s a radio for you on the table in case we need to communicate with you tonight.” 

“Sure,” I did my best to nod with a smile. 

Once alone, I sat on the couch in the trailer and went about assembling my camera, doing a few test shots. The past kept trying to crawl its way back into the present, doing its best to render me useless, but I wouldn’t allow it. 

Well, I tried to anyway. 

“You’re worthless.” 

“Piece of shit daughter. I should have dropped you off with your mother years ago.” 

“The only thing you’re good for is being a punching bag. But you can’t even do that right.” 

A swift kick to my ribs sent me flying across the room. 

Choking on a sob, I dug my palms into my eyes hoping that would force out those thoughts. 

“I haven’t thought of Dad in years but now he’s overtaking every part of me again,” I sighed to myself. 

Not feeling quite ready to leave the trailer yet, I fixed myself in the reflection of the mirror by tying my long black hair into a tight French braid and cleaned up my makeup a bit. The scar underneath my right eye was faint but visible to this day almost eleven years later. No matter how much makeup I wore to cover it, it was still a reminder of not only the best day of my life but also the worst day. 

“River, we need you on set.” 

“Be right there,” I said into the radio before clicking it to the belt of my jeans, and with my camera around my neck, I bounded down the steps of the trailer. 

By now the sun had set and the moon shone overhead so I stopped in my tracks for a moment to take a few shots of it before walking into the church where there was a large gathering of people. On the altar of the church were a set up of drums, guitars, an orchestra, and a microphone stand. 

After snapping a picture of it, I turned on my heels when I heard Vincent call my name. 

“River, I’d like you to meet the band. I figured you’d want to get some pictures of them before we start shooting.” 

I looked over the picture I had just taken of the drum set, something vaguely familiar about the logo, but then glanced up at the five men standing in front of me; the one in the middle with the bright gray eyes immediately catching my gaze. 

My breath caught in my throat as I nearly tripped over my feet when his jaw went slack, the familiarity slapping both of us in the face. 

“River?” 

The richness of his voice brought back all of those other memories I did my best to push away. I stood frozen, unable to move or say anything, while my brain tried to catch up on the man that stood in front of me; the one I hadn’t seen in ten years. 

The one that broke his promise. 

“Andy.”

Highschool. Senior year. One week before graduation. 

I pounded on the bedroom window as the rain assaulted me with no end in sight, drenching me from head to toe. The rain mixed with the salty tears that rolled down my cheeks as I continued to beat my palm against the glass while standing on the makeshift ladder we made of three cinder blocks. I needed a way to reach his window in times like this. There was no way I could walk through his front door looking like this where his parents could see and ask questions. 

“Damn it, Andy! Wake up!” I cried, still pounding on the window. 

The storm was a constant onslaught of rain, lightning, and thunder, so I knew it was hard for him to hear me. But that didn’t stop me. 

Finally, after a few minutes of crying and pounding on the window, Andy’s sleep-filled eyes stared at me through the curtain covering his window. I saw all the emotions run through his intense gaze. 

Confusion. 

Realization. 

And when he gave my face one long once over, the emotion that crossed the soft features of his face, I knew there was no way I’d be able to excuse my dad’s actions this time. 

Anger. 

“River,” his voice instantly soothing me when he opened the window, helping me inside. “What the fuck happened?” 

My body convulsed in shivers and I wrapped my arms around me to help keep some of my body heat. 

“I–I-I’m fi-fine,” my teeth chattered loudly in the quiet room. 

“Bullshit,” Andy spat while running a hand through his long black hair. “You’ve got a nasty cut under your eye and your lip is busted.” 

Now with the rain not washing away the blood, I could taste the bitter crimson on my lips and felt it pooling in my eye. I didn’t have to look at myself to know that the cut was deep and needed stitches. 

Typically, my dad made sure to hit me in places that I could easily hide. But tonight was different. I told him that once I graduated, I had plans to leave Ohio and move to North Carolina to start over; fresh. 

“Not with my money,” he spat.

Literally. 

When I told him I didn’t need his money and that I had other plans, he snorted while stubbing out his cigarette. 

“With that little boyfriend of yours? Sweety, he’ll drop you the second you follow him to that big fancy city.” 

“Fuck you!” I screamed. “You know nothing about Andy!” 

My cursing set him off and that's when the first slap happened, causing my busted lip. This time, I fought back, but in the end, it didn’t matter. My dad’s strength overpowered me as he threw me across the floor, face skidding along some of the broken glass from the cup I had thrown at him before. 

Hence the nasty cut underneath my eye. 

Andy’s sighing brought me back and I then noticed he was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. I’d seen him like this many times before since we were best friends but something about seeing him like this tonight, made my insides burn low. 

I’d had a crush on him since freshman year when he stepped between me and Alexa Dread from taking my camera and breaking it; again. Ever since that day, Andy and I were inseparable. We knew everything about each other and we always confided in each other about our feelings. 

Just not for each other. 

My feelings for him began to grow with each passing day but I had to watch him date girls that weren’t me with a fake smile because I needed to be happy for my best friend. 

He’d never feel the same way and that was something I came to terms with a while ago. 

My eyes grazed over the scattered ink on his arms, the random designs always taking my breath away. He was eighteen so was able to get the tattoos without the permission of his parents. 

I, however, was one month shy of turning eighteen and I’d been counting down the days. Ready to run from all of this the minute the clock struck midnight.

“Fuck, River. You’re shaking,” Andy’s hand reached for me, leading me to the adjacent bathroom off of his bedroom. 

“I d-didn’t know wh-where el-se to go-go,” I did my best to speak over my body shaking. 

He hushed me with a gentle squeeze of my hand. “You know you can always come here. You always have a place here, Riv.” 

I swallowed thickly at his nickname for me.

“You need to shower but I want to clean that cut first,” he motioned towards the soaked clothes that were clinging to me like a second skin. “Take them off.” 

I stilled at his words. While Andy had no problem walking around in his underwear around me, I, on the other hand, could not muster up that kind of courage. 

“I can’t,” I shook my head. 

His bright eyes narrowed through the thickness of his black hair. “Either you take those clothes off or I will. The last thing you need right now is to catch pneumonia.” 

Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I still didn’t make a move, which caused Andy to sigh. 

“I’ll turn around so you can undress, and keep your bra and underwear on. I’ll keep my face on yours when I clean your cut,” he reassured me with a gentle smile. 

“Okay,” I said finally. 

Before he turned around, Andy turned on the shower so the steam could fill the bathroom and keep me warm while he cleaned the cut. Staying true to his word, he turned his back to me, and as quick as I could, I ripped off the wet clothes. The sound it made falling to the tiled floor made me cringe and I covered myself with my arms. 

My bra and underwear were not cute, nothing he’d seen his past girlfriends wear, so to say I was embarrassed was an understatement. A simple pair of black cotton panties and a red bra. 

“You can turn around,” I said softly.

Andy slowly turned around and kept his eyes straight ahead on my face as he motioned to the closed toilet seat. While I sat, I watched his back muscles contort as he rummaged around underneath the sink for the first aid kit. 

“Won't your parents wonder why you’re taking a shower at two in the morning?” I asked. 

He snorted his laughter, still rummaging underneath the sink. “They would never question why their teenage son would be taking a shower in the middle of the night.” 

“Huh?” I said, utterly confused. 

Andy glanced up at me from his kneeling position with his brows raised and a playful smirk. Suddenly, it clicked on what he meant. 

“Oh, right,” I muttered low; the image of his hand around his cock pumping it slowly then fast replaying in my mind like a movie. 

I’d never seen him do that but I’d thought about it a handful of times. 

“This might sting a bit,” Andy said, kneeling in front of me now; his eyes remaining on my face. 

“I’ve had worse,” I tried to joke but the stern look from him made my shoulders fall and I muttered an apology. 

“You need to leave home, River,” he said while soaking a cotton pad in peroxide. 

I shook my head. “And go where? I have no money and no other relatives that will take me in.” 

“You know my parents will let you stay in the guest room for as long as you need.” 

I snorted. “Right. I don’t think your girlfriend would like the idea of me staying down the hall from you.” 

Andy’s eyes snapped away from the cotton ball to my face. “We broke up.” 

I did my best to keep a straight face when my heart nearly soared out of my chest. 

“When?” 

“The other day. She wanted to have sex and I said no so she broke up with me,” his voice told me that he wasn't upset about it. 

My brows furrowed together. “You said no to sex with Ashley Jenks? You’re not sick are you?” 

I made a play of touching his forehead with the back of my hand, our laughter echoing in the small bathroom. 

“No,” he grabbed my hand, not letting it go right away. “I’m not going to give my virginity to the first girl that throws themself at me. Or in this case, the fourth.” 

I blinked. “You’re still a virgin?” 

Andy finally let go of my hand and I frowned at the loss of warmth. 

“I know it’s shocking but call me old school. I’m waiting until I find the right person.” 

Our eyes met in an intense battle of who would look away first but neither of us was faltering. 

“I am too,” I said quietly. 

For the briefest of moments, I saw his eyes widen before he played it off by holding up the soaked cotton ball. 

“I’m sorry for the sting.” 

I urged him on with a nod and didn’t even flinch when the cool liquid met my skin finally as Andy cleaned the cut on my cheek. Silence fell between us as he then cleaned the dried blood on my face and when his warm breath fanned over the cut to dry it, I nearly melted into him; skin rising with goosebumps. 

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” he murmured while looking closely at the cut. 

I sucked in a breath when I realized his lips were mere meters from mine and dared a glance down to his full lips. They were practically begging to be kissed and I wanted to be the one to do it. 

“I’ll put a bandaid on it after my shower,” I said. 

With me still sitting on the toilet and Andy kneeling in front of me, I spread my legs wide so he was able to get as close as he could to cleaning the cut. Now that he was finished, it was as if he had no idea where to place his hands so they rested on the wall behind me, his long body leaning over me. 

“You’re not going back tonight, River,” his voice was deep as he stared down at me. 

With shaking fingers, I brushed away the strands of hair from his face so I could see those gray eyes. 

“I know.” 

I tracked the movement of his Adam's apple as it bobbed low when he swallowed, his eyes finally grazing lower than my face. Down to the swell of my breasts and the slight pudge of skin around my stomach. 

I wasn't the skinniest of girls, another reason why I was bullied, but Andy never commented on it. 

“You should get in the shower,” his voice broke the trance between us. “Your lips are blue.” 

When his finger ghosted over my mouth, I let out a soft moan desperately wanting to feel the pressure of his touch everywhere. 

Suddenly like a ghost, Andy had vanished from the bathroom back into his bedroom, leaving me all alone. Since the door was now shut, I rose from the toilet and stripped out of my remaining clothes. 

The hot water stung like a blade against my sore skin and I groaned out in pleasure. I didn’t want to take a long shower only because the water had already been running for a while before stepping beneath it. I washed away the memories of today with Andy’s soap and wrapped a towel around me after I stepped out of the shower. 

“Shit, what am I supposed to wear?” I grumbled to myself.

Slowly opening the bathroom door, the light burst into Andy’s bedroom and lit up his form lounging on his bed reading a Batman comic. 

“Andy,” I said while shuffling my feet and clutching the towel close to my chest. “I don’t have any clothes.” 

Setting the comic down, he hopped off the bed and went across the room, opening the drawers of his dresser to pull out a pair of boxers and a shirt. 

“We’ll swing by your house at some point tomorrow to grab you some clothes. You’ll stay here for the weekend,” he said while standing in front of me.

I took the clothes with one hand. “Thank you.” 

Before in the bathroom, Andy made sure not to look at the bruises covering my skin but now, he made sure to take in every single one that he could see. 

The fingers imprinted around my neck. 

The bruise on my shoulder, left arm, and legs. 

These were the ones that he could see. The ones underneath the towel around me were worse. 

His jaw ticked with the anger he so desperately tried to keep within, knowing that one outburst from him would cause me to fall into myself. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I whispered. 

Andy’s eyes were dark but his voice was gentle. “Let me see all of it.” 

I vigorously shook my head. “I’m fine, Andy. I just want to get dressed and go to sleep.” 

All at once, I felt my body being pressed up against the wall and the towel falling to the floor at my feet. Andy’s gaze ignited as he pressed his hips against mine causing a shockwave throughout my body. His clothed cock brushed along my bare clit and I let out a moan while my eyes fluttered shut. 

“Riv.”

My eyes snapped open when I felt his hand cup my cheek. Tears burned at the corners and he gently wiped them away with the pad of his thumb. 

“Please,” I begged. “Don’t look. They’re ugly. I’m ugly.” 

The burning anger in his iris softened at my cries but still kept me locked in place against the wall with his hips. 

“You’re beautiful, angel,” he admitted with a steady voice. 

Angel. 

It was Andy’s nickname for me ever since sophomore year when I dressed up as a fallen angel for Halloween. We were too old to go trick or treating but not cool enough for parties so we both decided to get dressed up and spend the night in his basement getting drunk. 

It was also the night I had my first kiss. We were sitting on the couch in his basement, a few drinks in, and I had my head resting on Andy’s shoulder trying so hard to stay awake for the horror movie he put on. When I looked up at him, I was shocked to see that he was already staring at me and the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine. It was a short kiss, over before I could enjoy it. 

“Shit, sorry,” he apologized. “I drank too much.”

We never talked about that kiss after that night, both of us burying it away; much to my dismay. 

“I’m not,” I cast my eyes away from him. 

His warm breath fanned across the crook of my neck as he peppered kisses on the bruises there. 

“Let me show you.” 

Yet again our eyes locked with intensity, so fierce it set the space around us on fire. Andy’s hand moved down my cheek, over my neck, and the space between my breasts. I bit back a moan when his finger and thumb rolled one of my perked nipples between them. 

“Will you let me show you?” He asked, nuzzling his face in my neck. 

I licked my lips. “What about waiting for the right person?” 

“She’s already in front of me,” Andy admitted before crashing his lips to mine. 

My body had come alive with his touch and everything I wanted since freshman year was coming to fruition. Andy wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Our lips synced together perfectly, never missing a beat, as he lifted me and carried me to his bed. 

That night, we both gave each other something we held so dear to ourselves. Afterward, as we lay together with our naked bodies tangled underneath his sheets, Andy pressed a kiss to my forehead when I cried in his chest, scared to go back home once Monday morning came. 

“I hate being alone there. I’m afraid he’ll go too far and kill me.” 

“You don’t ever have to be alone, River,” his soothing voice cooed in my ear as he cupped my cheek. 

I looked up at him through the tears and choked on a sob. “Promise you’ll stay with me?”

He smiled that smile I fell in love with years ago. “I promise.” 

Andy lied. 

Four days later, he packed up his entire life and moved to Hollywood without a simple goodbye. 

PRESENT DAY. 

“River?” 

I blinked while shaking my head, trying to gather my bearings again. The past had sucked me in whole, forcing me to relive that night over again. I couldn't believe Any was standing in front of me again after all these years, the moonlight breaking through the stained glass windows of the church bathed him in a glow made for kings. Even though he looked different than the last time I’d seen him, with more tattoos and shorter hair; tonight he had a small white patch in his hair. I could vaguely make out the old lip-piercing hole and I remembered how the cool metal tasted against my tongue when we kissed. 

He, along with the guys around him, were dressed in their outfits for the video, so I was able to see the tattoos that littered his neck, chest, and stomach. However, those eyes were still the same. 

Those haunting gray eyes stared into the soul I previously just captured again as he waited for me to say something. 

Do I play it off like I don't remember him? 

Right, like you could forget the guy that took your virginity. 

Do I ignore him and go about work like a professional? 

How is ignoring the person you’re supposed to be working with professional? 

I was starting to grow tired of the little voice inside my head. 

Vincent glanced between Andy and me, pointing a finger. “Do you two know each other?” 

“We went to high school together,” Andy answered before I could. 

“No shit,” Vincent chuckled. “What a small world.” 

“Right,” I snorted venomously. 

Andy’s eyes sliced into me but I ignored him by giving him my back and looking over at Vincent. 

“I’ll get shots of them later. Radio me when you’re ready.” 

When he nodded, I took that as my cue to leave although I made it only a few steps before my name was called from behind. 

“You’re not even going to say hello, Riv.” 

I spun so fast on my heels, the end of my braid snapped to the other side of my face and I pointed a finger at Andy. 

“I’m not doing this with you. Not here and especially not right now. Both of us have a job to do. Let’s keep it that way.” 

One of the guys next to Andy watched us carefully and I could practically see the light click on above his head. 

“Wait, River as in River from high school,” the guy said. 

“Yeah, Jinxx,” Andy answered before taking a step towards me. 

I took a large step away from him. “I already said I’m here to do my job, that’s it.” 

Before he could try and sweet talk his way into my life, just like that night, I turned back around and marched out of the church, calling back that I was going to take some shots of it. 

Once outside, I let the cold night air brush the hot tears away from my face as my heart nearly burst out from my chest, sobs echoing throughout the vastness of the sky. 

No. This cannot be happening. 

For the last nine years, I spent my life crying over that man, wondering what I did wrong that night to make him leave me behind. He promised to stay with me but still left. 

Was I not good enough? Worthy of being by his side? 

Nine years I spent stuck in Ohio wondering why with the bitter taste of Hennessy, drinking away my sorrows and regrets. It wasn’t until a year ago when I finally questioned myself in the reflection of the bottle that I took whatever money I had left from selling my father's house after he died to move across the county to California. 

The last year I spent building myself up to the women I was now and creating my career empire with my photography. I refused to let the past crumble everything I worked so hard for; no matter how good he looked now or how bad I wanted to taste his lips again. 

“Get a hold of yourself,” I seethed. “He left you.” 

The sound of music from inside blasted through the walls of the church letting me know that they started shooting and choosing not to dwell on Andy showing back up into my life, I took a few shots of the church outside. Then I reluctantly walked back inside knowing I couldn’t avoid him forever and decided to get some pictures of the guys. 

Andy’s eyes quickly found me but I did my best to ignore him by hiding behind my camera. His voice erupted through the speakers and it brought back every single time during music class in high school when he would sing in front of the class or solo for me in his bedroom. 

My bottom lip trembled as I blew out a shaky breath while walking over to where Vincent sat, just as he yelled cut. 

“Did you get your shots?” He wondered. 

Clicking back through all of the pictures, I pursed my lips at the realization that while I got great shots of the other band members, I hadn’t gotten any shots of Andy mostly because I avoided him at all costs. 

“I need some of Andy,” I said with a long breath. 

“No problem. I think we got everything we need with this scene. Next up is the scene of him sitting in the pew alone so you can get them now,” Vincent patted my shoulder as he stood from the chair. 

“Lovely,” I grumbled while walking back towards the altar of the church directly in Andy’s path. 

He was talking with one of his band members but when he caught sight of me, he met me halfway. 

“Riv,” he began. 

“Don’t,” I seethed, walking past him. “You lost the right to call me that when you left me.” 

“Can I explain please?” Andy asked while reaching for my elbow. 

I yanked it out of his grasp, ready to move to the opposite side of the church when his voice halted me. 

“Angel.” 

Whirling around so fast, I nearly dropped my camera to the ground when I pushed him in his chest. 

“Don’t you fucking ever call me that again!” I nearly screamed. “You don’t have the right to call me that.” 

Anytime I heard that name, all I would think about was our first kiss and the night we slept together. 

His eyes softened, almost begging me to listen. “Please, angel. I have to explain-.” 

“NO!” My voice echoed inside the church. “There’s nothing to explain, Andy. Anything that comes out of your mouth is a lie.” 

“Do you guys need a moment?” Vincent’s voice carried over to us. 

“No!” 

“Yes!” 

Andy and I both said at the same time. 

“You know what, I think a break is a good idea. Let’s take thirty and come back,” Vincent directed to everyone with a wave of a finger. 

Having every intention of spending that thirty minutes alone in my trailer, I brushed past Andy and nearly tripped over my feet as I ran down the concrete steps, the vision of my solace getting closer and closer. Just before I could slam the door shut behind me, it closed on a body with an audible ouch. 

“Leave me alone, Andy!” I yelled. 

He stood tall in the small confines of the trailer, his broad chest heaving with each deep breath from chasing after me. His bare chest underneath his opened jacket and for a second, I allowed myself to study those visible tattoos. The eagle on his sternum, the sword in the crease of his stomach, the tiger neck to it. I couldn’t make out the tattoo across his neck or chest but I could make out the 26 in a hear on his neck.  

“Not until you let me explain,” he said. 

I grabbed the end of my braid, ripping it out so my dark hair could fall around my shoulders. 

“I swear to fucking God himself, if you say explain one more time I’m going to-.” 

“Do what, angel?” He raised a brow while resting his hands on his hips. 

I pointed to the door. “Get out.”

Andy didn’t move. 

“You're unbelievable,” I growled while making a beeline for the door instead, only to have him block my path. 

“I had to leave.” 

I blinked up at him, mouth agape. “What?” 

We were so close now, his familiar scent encasing me with its vise grip, and my mind kept screaming at me to create space. 

He ran a hand over his short hair and took a deep breath. “I had to leave. That Monday morning after you left, I got a call from an agent in Los Angeles offering me a small gig in a commercial. It's what I needed to get my foot in the door, to get Black Veil Brides started, so I took it. But I had to be out there the day after they called me.” 

“So you left me behind, without a single fucking goodbye,” I sneered, pushing past him to the other side of the trailer. 

“I didn’t have a choice!” Andy’s voice was raised now, it echoing off the walls. 

“You could have told me! You know I would have followed you!” I shot back. 

He began pacing the narrow space while having his hands on his hips. “I couldn’t, River. Not without knowing that everything would have paid off in the end. I couldn’t have you with me while I suffered.” 

I chuckled dryly. “Oh but suffering back home alone was fine with you?” 

“I wanted to reach out and check on how you were doing,” his shoulders slumped. 

“My number has been the same,” I held out my hands. “I lived in the same fucking house for nine years after you left. You could have come to see me.”

When he said nothing, his lips unmoving, I grew angrier and pushed his chest, ten years of holding everything in finally exploding. 

“You lied!” 

Push. 

“You left me with him to beat on me for another three fucking years until he died!”

Push. 

“You made me a promise and broke it!” 

I cried with one final push, causing Andy to fall back onto the couch, stormy eyes staring up at me. Tears were streaming down my face and my eyes burned with anger for the man in front of me. 

“You told me you would never leave me,” I snarled through gritted teeth. “You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did.” 

When he reached for my hand, I smacked it away. 

“Please, angel,” he begged. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. But I wasn’t in the best place. I couldn’t have you be with me, seeing all that shit. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“Just tell me all you wanted from me was sex so I can finally put the nail in the coffin, Andy,” I said with a shaky breath. 

His face fell. “That’s not even remotely true, River.” 

“It doesn’t matter anyway. After tonight, you’ll go back to your band and life as a rockstar.” 

With my back turned, I gathered my camera and was ready to get back to work when an arm wrapped around me from behind. 

“Come with me, angel,” Andy’s soft voice brushed along the shell of my ear. 

When I felt myself falling into his embrace, almost ready to give in, I pushed away from him. He made me so mad I could throw something at him. My camera or the chair. 

Myself. 

“You’re insane,” I shook my head.  

He linked our hands together so I could face him, the pleading bright in his eyes. “Give me a chance to make up for the last ten years.” 

I stared blankly at him, trying to determine if this was a cruel trick. 

“You don’t deserve my time, Andy. What we used to have is gone, you can’t fix it or try to bring it back.” 

“You’re not even going to let me try?” He asked. 

“Why should I? So that you can break my heart again? You don’t realize how much of myself I gave to you; parts I can never take back. You were my first kiss!” I raised my voice. 

He blinked. “I didn’t know that.” 

I scoffed while shaking my head again. “Of course you didn’t, Andy. Because you never brought it up again. You blamed it on the alcohol that night. What’s your excuse for the night we lost our virginity to each other?” 

Before Andy could speak, I waved him off and headed towards the door of the trailer. 

“It’s not even worth it anymore,” I muttered with my hand on the handle. 

Suddenly in a whirlwind, I felt myself being hoisted up and pressed against the bathroom door. Those dark gray eyes were reading my face, assessing every movement of my gaze as it burned into him. Andy held my hands pinned to my sides and kept me locked into place with his hips. The imprint of his cock was felt against the material of my leggings and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the moan quiet. 

It’d been so long since I felt his touch and I was ready to throw out everything, all of my morals, just to have him again. 

“River,” his hand cupped my cheek, the coolness of his rings almost a shock to my warm skin. 

I said nothing, simply glaring up at him with a clenched jaw. 

“Riv. Come with me.” 

AnDy breathed over my lips and I nearly lost it. But I still kept strong, not wanting to be the first one to falter. I worked so hard to build myself back up after he left and there was no way I could allow myself to fall. 

Not again. 

His thumb lifted my chin, keeping it locked in his grip, and his eyes dropped to my lips; a silent question. 

“Fuck you,” I spat. 

Something dark flashed in Andy’s eyes as a sinister smirk played on his lips. One that I recognized all too well even though it was never directed at me.

“I don’t ever remember you being such a brat,” he tsked. 

I swallowed thickly, unsure how the tension between us went from anger to sexual, but at that moment with him eyeing me hungrily, I didn’t want to question it. 

“How could you remember? You’ve been gone for ten years,” I shot back. 

Andy pressed his hips harder against me and this time I wasn’t able to hold back the moan. It slipped through my lips with sheer pleasure and I let my head fall against the door behind me. 

“I wasn’t drunk the night we slept together, River,” Andy’s hand wrapped around my neck, thumb now on my pulse point. “Or that entire weekend.” 

My cheeks flushed when I remembered we had sex multiple times that weekend. We never left his bedroom and thankfully, his parents left the next morning for a friend's wedding so they had no idea I was there. 

“All I ever wanted was you,” his voice was low. 

I raised my chin at him. “You have a funny way of showing it.” 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, an action I watched intently, and then his voice dropped even lower. Those usually bright eyes were dark and it made the air thick, heated, and full of spice. It made it harder to breathe as his grip tightened around my throat slightly.  

“Let me show you.” 

Those four words sent both of us back to his bedroom during high school and just like that night, I succumbed to the darkness that was Andy Biersack; consequences be damned. 

“Are you still waiting for the right person?” My question was a breath over his lips. 

A low noise rumbled in Andy’s chest as his hand gripped behind my neck, yanking my mouth to his. 

“She’s right in front of me.” 

Every single doubt and fight I had within me vanished the second our lips touched, those familiar fireworks exploding. My hands were all over Andy; his neck, chest, ribs, and back as they sneaked underneath his jacket. While one of his hands continued to grip the back of my neck, the other held tight on my hip so I couldn’t leave. 

As if I wanted to. 

Our tongues molded together and he swallowed my moan when his teeth bit down on my bottom lip. For a moment, reality struck with clarity and I pushed Andy off of me, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. 

“You need to leave,” I warned, breathless. 

His lips were kiss swollen and his jacket was falling off of his shoulders as those stormy eyes never left my lips. 

“Do you want that? Because if you do, I’ll leave right now.” 

When I remained silent, Andy smirked while grasping the back of my head to crash his lips on mine again, this time with more hunger. It was as if he was a man starved, desperate for his last meal. 

“You need to go,” I groaned when his lips began trailing down my chin and neck. 

“Go where?” He asked. “Here?” 

A gentle bite to the shell of my ear. 

“Or here?” 

A kiss on the sensitive part of my skin between my neck and shoulder which caused me to shiver in his embrace. 

“What about here, angel? Do you want me here?” 

The head of his cock brushed along my clit from underneath our clothes and I nearly fell at his feet until Andy’s strong arms lifted me to carry me over to the small twin-size bed on the other end of the trailer. 

“It’s like we're back in my childhood bedroom with this small ass bed,” he grumbled.

I fell onto the cheap mattress with a slight giggle but it was hushed with Andy consuming me once more. My entire soul went up in a fiery blaze when he began rutting his hips into me and it was as if we were a couple of teenagers again making out and thinking that was the best part of it. We couldn’t keep our hands off of each other as I helped him out of his jacket and he all but ripped my sweater off, leaving me in an olive green bralette. 

His eyes darkened before he left teeth marks between the swell of my breasts, lapping up his saliva and dried sweat from the day and I raked my nails through the buzzed hair. 

“I miss your long hair,” I gasped, feeling his tongue slip between the material of my bra and catching my nipple. 

“I’ve missed the way you tasted, River,” Andy mused while kissing his way back up to my lips.

This time the kiss was slow, as if we had the rest of our lives together and there was no need to rush anything. It was like he was trying to imprint me into him, never wanting to forget anything again. 

I reached for the button on his pants, pulling down the zipper to slip my hand inside, palming his hard cock. 

Holy. Shit. 

It was a lot thicker than ten years ago. 

“Shit, Riv,” he cursed when I squeezed him. “Just like that.” 

I did it a few more times while his forehead fell to my chest, panting his warm breath over my skin. I lifted his face with my other hand to kiss him again, the savageness poured out of him. 

The room smelled of our desperation as I shimmied out of my leggings while he stepped out of his pants, after unhooking my bra and tossing it over his shoulder. As Andy stood at the end of the bed, I let my eyes rake over every defined muscle of his body; tongue begging for a simple taste of the ink on his skin and the head of his cock that was almost slipping through his briefs; the black briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide his arousal. 

Rising to my knees on the bed, I ran my palm over his cock again, his entire body shivering underneath my touch.

"Fuck, angel,” Andy groaned before his teeth grasped at my bottom lip, yanking it away from me. 

I hissed in pleasure, the taste of copper lingering on my tongue.

"Did you-." I licked my bottom lip and then tilted my head to the side. "Did you just bite me?"

Andy pushed me back down on the bed so he could take in the sight of me bare for him; those stormy eyes were now clear with only one thing. 

Heat. 

“I can’t believe I went ten years without this,” he muttered to himself while stepping out of his briefs, his cock finally springing free. 

I licked my lips at the sight of it, salivating for a taste of the precum that he smeared over the head. But instead, I felt like being a brat with Andy, not allowing him to think I wasn’t still upset with him. 

“It’s your own fucking fault,” I shot back with a sly smirk, resting on my elbows. 

My squeals echoed in the trailer when Andy flipped my tiny frame over on the mattress so my ass was exposed to his palm, a hard strike falling onto it. I writhed against the bed when another harsh strike came down on my ass, my mewls of pleasure being drowned out by the pillow. 

“You’re such an ass,” I seethed when the spankings stopped. 

Andy palmed my reddened cheek while looming over my back, his breath warm on my neck. 

“Do you still like it rough, River?” His question was heavy on his tongue. 

That weekend we spent together, I divulged what kind of kinks I might have been into due to my own research. Andy let me try things with him while I did the same and needless to say, all these years later he still knew exactly what my body needed to come alive for him. 

Instead of answering, I raised my hips from the bed with his name falling from my lips in a whine full of desperation. Andy had barely touched me but the wetness between my legs was warm and sticky.

I needed this release more than oxygen. 

"What do you want from me?" His fingers dragged up my slick folds from his position behind me before slipping one inside, the feeling of his rings making me stiffen. 

My head was turned to the side so I could gaze up at him over my shoulder. However, he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were trained hard on his finger pumping in and out of my pussy, the sounds of my arousal overpowering the sounds of my panting. Seeing the desperation on his face as he tried to hold himself back made me push my ass closer to Andy. 

“Use your words, Riv,” he ordered while flicking his eyes to me for a moment. 

I shook my head, words foreign when he slipped another finger inside of me, spreading them wide like a V. 

“Did you forget how to speak?” 

Andy clicked his tongue against his teeth, ready to pull his fingers out when my begging halted him. 

"You. I just want you."

The bed shifted behind me when I noticed Andy disappear only to feel the wetness of his tongue press against my pussy to lick my arousal. The sharpness of his teeth scraped along my clit as he buried his face deeper into the sweet spot between my legs. 

“You still taste so good, River,” he mused, pressing gentle kisses on the inside of my thigh. 

“Don’t stop,” I all but whined, wanting to feel his tongue again. 

Andy ate me out from behind with both hands on my hips, continuing to keep me in place as my body writhed on the bed from the onslaught of his mouth. When his lips wrapped around my clit to suck hard on the sensitive bud, I screamed out his name. 

“Andy,” I drowned it out with a moan. “It’s so good. I’m so close.” 

With the indication my orgasm was on the brink of collapse, he slipped a finger inside of me again. While his mouth was a rough attack on my clit, his finger was a gentle caress of my inner walls with slow strokes. Sheer ecstasy was slowly building at the base of my spine, warming up all of my senses until I felt like I could combust at any moment. Andy flicked his tongue over my clit and I buried my face into the pillow, the musky scent of my wellness tickling my nose as my body shook out my orgasm. My cries of release sounded like music to Andy’s ears as he hummed in praise, drinking up my arousal as it gushed over his tongue and fingers. 

It had been so long since I had an orgasm that wasn’t brought on by my hand or a toy. I lay limp on the bed, breathless, as the after-shocks slowly began to fade along with the hazy bright lights, my soul returning from wherever it retreated to. I barely felt the kisses upon my thigh and then lower back as Andy dragged a finger down my spine. 

“Still on birth control?” He asked, lust gone from his voice for a second. 

I nodded while glancing over my shoulder and seeing my arousal coating his lips. The sight was so intoxicating that I almost uttered those three words that plagued my existence since I first met him. 

“River,” he tapped my back, bringing me out of my thoughts. 

“Implant,” I replied. 

My head leaned back in pure bliss when Andy dug his nails into my hips as he pressed himself past my wetness, the thickness of his cock filling me. It twitched inside of me, earning a disgustingly desperate groan from me. 

It felt nothing like it did ten years ago. It felt better. 

Andy left no space between us as he held us in place on the small mattress and I tried to move my hips in his grip. It was so rough, I knew I would have bruises later but frankly, I didn’t care. All I cared about was how good it felt to have him inside of me again. 

“So tight, angel. I can’t-.” 

His eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted to an 'O' shape when I rocked my hips against him with my swollen clit rubbing against the cool blanket and I shivered at the sensation. Everything from our fight to our kiss sent me in a spiral of pure ecstasy and I felt the coil in my stomach pulling tight again. My previous orgasm was still lingering and it didn’t take long before I felt that familiar tingly feeling in my spine. 

“Andy, I’m going to-.” 

Still inside of me, he managed to flip me over so now I was staring up at those dark eyes; pupils blown wide with lust. Now, Andy didn’t hold back as he hooked my leg up and around his shoulder so he could thrust in a deeper angle. 

“Oh god,” I closed my eyes, the new sensation causing the coil to hurt. 

“Eyes on me, River!” He snapped with a low growl and I immediately obeyed. "You're so fucking beautiful, angel. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry it’s been ten years.” 

I didn’t want to hear his apology. I only wanted to have that coil spring free with my second orgasm. I attacked his lips with such force Andy had to hold himself up with one hand on the headboard, the other slipping between the place where our bodies met to play with my clit; exactly how I liked. Our tongues explored each other's mouths in a kiss so vicious it made my head spin.  Andy’s pace was erratic and merciless but it didn’t stop me from begging. 

"More," I mumbled into his lips.

That's all he needed before he maneuvered us so he sat in the middle of the bed with me in his lap and he held me closer to his chest as his hips snapped up into me in violent strokes, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot. I yelled out my pleasure, exposing my neck to Andy who immediately attacked it with his teeth leaving bite marks all along the skin sticky with sweat.

My body hummed in a prayer-like awaking, the flames and heat burning high in my belly as my organs crested higher; so fucking high I was afraid I would combust into nothing but matter in the air. His name fell from my lips in devotion, a woman praying to her God, and my toes curled as the orgasm ripped through me with so much force I screamed out in pure nirvana.

“I love you, River,” Andy professed with a strangled breath as he spilled himself inside of me, cock throbbing with his release. 

“What did you say?” I questioned, almost unsure if I had heard him correctly. 

He cupped my cheek, eyes softening. “I love you.” 

My bottom lip trembled at those three words; the words I wanted to hear for years. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” Andy brushed away my hair from my face. “But it’s true. I’m at a better place where now admitting it out loud doesn't scare me.”

We stayed like that, bodies tangled together in the silence for a few long moments until he laid us on the bed. I very quickly detached myself from him so I could put some space between us. 

Although he admitted how he felt, I wasn't ready to yet. I knew that I loved him ever since high school, but it was my turn to be afraid of what would happen if I admitted it out loud.

Instead, I remained silent while lying on my stomach on the bed, resting my chin on my hand to gaze down at his tattoos again. One of them immediately caught my attention and I smiled at it, a fond memory cresting to the surface. 

“I remember being with you when you got this,” I whispered while trailing a finger over the black and yellow Batman logo on his arm. 

“I still have the comics you got me for my birthday,” he said while propping his arm behind his head. 

My heart skipped at that because it meant that he was thinking of me during our time away.

“But you couldn’t come to see me,” I muttered under my breath as I turned from him. 

Andy reached for me to pull my back to his chest and lock me into place with a leg over my hips. His left hand grazed up and down my arm, sending shivers all over my skin, and I let out a soft breath. 

“Will you stay with me, River?”

I sat on his question for a few long beats, letting it sink in if it was something I truly wanted. My life in Hollywood wasn’t set in place, I’d always been on the move. But the thought of uprooting everything to be with Andy scared the shit out of me. How could I trust that he won’t leave me again? 

Then why did you sleep with him? You plan on leaving after this, so you’re no better than him.

“Why now?” I sat up to gaze down at him, his arm falling away from me. “How come now you want to make things work between us?” 

He hesitated with inner turmoil eating away inside as he slowly sat up and ran a hand over his short hair. 

“I was married for six years. The divorce was finalized last year.” 

My heart sank into the depths of my stomach; no farther. It fell straight to Tartarus. 

“We were together for a total of eight years but the longer our relationship went on I began to realize it wasn’t what I wanted. Who I wanted,” Andy explained. 

There was absolutely no reason for me to be upset with him because while he was married, I had been casually dating. None of them were ever serious enough to last more than a few months. But it still caused an ache in my heart. 

“Then why did you stay with her for as long as you did?” I asked. 

Andy has a soft smile. “I loved her, in a different way than I love you. But sometimes that kind of love isn’t enough. Not when someone else held my heart first.” 

Tears burned in my eyes and I blew out a shaky breath. “If that were true, Andy, then you would have come to me first. You wouldn’t have gotten married.”

Removing myself from his grasp, I began slipping on my discarded pieces of clothing while he continued to sit in bed, naked. 

“I’m not saying I’m perfect, River. But I’ve grown a lot in the last few years. The Andy you used to know wouldn’t have been good for you.” 

“And now?” I asked with my hands on my hips. 

The smile that played on his lips grew wider. “Now, I would love to have you come on the road with me. We leave in a few days for our North America leg then jump overseas for a few weeks. Plenty of time to make up for old times and prove I’ve changed.” 

I laughed. “You want me to stop what I’m doing here to come follow you? Give up potential jobs? Just to be your roadie?” 

Andy’s jaw twitched but with a deep breath, he gathered himself from the bed and stepped back into his briefs and pants. 

“You can be our photographer. I’ll talk it over with our management team, that way you can be getting paid.” 

I pursed my lips in consideration because his offer was a pretty good one. But was it worth spending all that time together?

You love and miss him. 

I sighed at the voice in my head, knowing it was true. Seeing him again brought up all the old feelings I spent years burying, trying to forget, and it was clear that Andy still felt the same.  

“You remember all the plans we made? When we were hoping for better days? You wanted to become a photographer and I wanted to sing in a band. We have that now. What’s stopping you from saying yes?” He took a small step towards me. 

“The promise you betrayed,” I said flatly.  

Andy’s shoulders fell. “You don’t have to forgive me for leaving you, Riv. But I swear to you that if you come with me, I will spend every day from here on out proving to you that you’re all I want.” 

When I didn’t say anything, he wrapped his arms around me and oh so gently, laid a kiss on my lips. 

“I love you, River Murray,” he professed. “We can start over; fresh. But only if this is something you want. If not, then we can both leave with some closure and go our separate ways.” 

I couldn’t explain the way my heart physically ached with the thought of leaving tonight and forgetting about Andy. Even with all the anger and hurt, I couldn't imagine acting like tonight didn’t happen. Maybe there was a small possibility that we could work through our issues, gain that trust back, and finally find what we were desperate to have. 

But the betrayal weighed heavy in my soul along with the fear of Andy doing it again, only this time while I was with him and leaving me stranded. 

“River, if you’re with Andy, can you have him come to set? We’re ready to start again.” 

I jumped at the sudden loud crackle of the radio, Vincent’s voice breaking through the clouds of confusion. 

With a sigh, Andy slipped back into his shoes and jacket. 

“Let’s get back to work, yeah? We can talk more about this on the next break,” he said. 

I swallowed the waver in my voice as it broke. “I’m actually going to sit here for a bit since I’m not needed right now.”

Andy’s thumb brushed along the soft skin of my cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, angel.” 

He left me with a kiss on the cheek and for the first time since reuniting with Andy, I fell to the ground with sobs wracking my body. Everything I worked hard to overcome was shattered by those three words and his offer. It terrified me to completely allow him in again but I also didn’t want to let him go. 

The decision was made in an instant as I rose from the floor, hastily wiping away the tears, and gathered my things together. I knew what I chose would have repercussions, some I may never recover from, but as the door of the trailer slammed behind me, it would be alright. Because my heart said it would be. 

#tina talks #andy biersack #andy black #black veil brides #bvb #andy black fanfiction #andy biersack fanfiction

[jben073]

Grace Chasity headcanon rambles!

Some silly Grace hcs for @nighthaterfrfr!! I tried to mostly avoid any of mine that you mentioned something similar to in yours bc we had a good deal of overlap! :D

(Just to preface, one of my biggest headcanons is that Grace is autistic so there’s a good chance that some of these may be influenced by that! I did try to pick ones that are more applicable to canon though! [But if anyone wants any of those, I have about a million :3])

When Grace was a young child in elementary school (or Sunday school), she very innocently kissed Alice Woodward and felt something™. (She entirely represses this memory for YEARS.)

^ During her eventual sexuality crisis, despite not having talked to Alice for years outside of polite conversation if they ran into one another, Grace reaches out to her for support/to ask questions because she was the only out queer person that Grace knew and trusted enough not to out her. (Alice big sister mode activated.) 

^ (They’re so silly, they’ve literally never interacted outside of a throwaway line about them knowing and possibly disliking each other but to me they're friends who fell apart and eventually find each other again when they're both more grown as people.)

^ Also, ignore me indulging my other biggest hc which is that Grace is a lesbian.

Grace took piano lessons as a child and is actually quite good because she wanted to be the pianist for her church’s masses when she got older! She stopped taking lessons in high school, but she keeps up with playing in her free time to maintain the skill and occasionally help out with music at her church.

^ Richie constantly tries to convince her to learn anime openings and music from games that he plays for him (he begged her to learn Megalovania for weeks until she finally gave in).

She has never celebrated Halloween because her parents think it’s satanic so Ruth and Richie (who definitely still go trick-or-treating in high school) make a point to bring her some of their candy on the following school day.

^ She definitely doesn’t cry about this gesture later when she goes home!!

She is an absolute monster while playing board games, like she gets REALLY aggressive about them.

^ (definitely influenced by Angela's chaos on smosh games, especially the “be a little more gentle!! >:(” clip)

She can’t go to sleep (intentionally) without getting a kiss goodnight. At home, her parents kiss her on the forehead before bed and if she’s at camp, she has to get a kiss on the head from Girl Jeri if she wants to sleep well.

^ It disrupts her routine which makes it harder for her to wind down!!

^ I like to think that before the events of Abstinence Camp, she thought of Boy Jerry and Girl Jeri as older sibling figures.

She has never been to a sleepover because she’s never had good enough friends to be invited to one :(

^ The nerds + Steph very quickly remedy this!!

^ (quick ramble related to the last hc) During the first group sleepover, Steph wakes up in the middle of the night to get a drink, realizes Grace is still up, and after Grace sheepishly admits her dilemma following Steph’s prompting for an explanation, Steph very casually plants a kiss on her forehead and then goes back to sleep. Grace’s face is beet red after this and now she can’t sleep for an entirely different reason.

^ They're in love to me!!!

LIB related

(Based almost entirely on Blinky’s line about watching Grace and the nightmare about Max/Richie that implies she has the gift.) 

^ Grace has been connected to the Lords in Black since long before we see her, Steph, and Pete summon them in NPMD.

^ Much like Lex was friends with Webby as a child and forgot, Grace was friends with the LIB when she was young but grew out of it.

^ (I have a whole little overanalysis/hc set of things for this hc if anyone wants to hear :3)

After she starts using the Black Book, her appearance starts to very slightly change so that she always looks just a tiny bit off.

^ Her teeth are just a touch too sharp, her ears have the slightest point to them, and her eyes almost seem to shift in colour (depending on which LIB is influencing her).

^ But hey, it must just be a trick of the light!! She's so normal!! Dw about it!!!

She will occasionally feel the sudden compulsion to bite others (Nibbly is feeling silly!!)

^ She does not act on this… most of the time :3

One more silly one to end on

She once owned a Tamagotchi and became so deeply stressed over the state of this virtual creature that she made herself sick from anxiety. 

^ Karen and Mark confiscated the toy very shortly after this.

Anyway ramble's over now but my 45 page google doc of Grace hcs continues to grow every day bc I am fixated hard on this silly little show :3

edit: had to add the '^' thing because the bullets didn't indent properly for some reason!! every one that has that is attached to the previous one without it!

also idk why on mobile the sleepover hc and the Alice hc got cut short?? The sleepover one is supposed to say that now she can't sleep for an entirely different reason and the end of the second bullet says (Alice big sister mode activated).

#grace chasity #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #starkid #hatchetfield #nightmare time #stephanie lauter #lautity #stephgrace #starkid hcs

[18catsreading]

Buddy: I heard that these high school parties in Solace were wild, but whew, this is really wild!

Fabian: it's a new year and it's a new era.

Buddy: so your father got this house from theft.

Fabian: mm, well ...

Adaine: he was a privateer.

Fabian: no, no we don't say that anymore. We had a big fight.

Adaine: oh

Fabian: he was a pivate. He killed and murdered lots of people. Um. But I guess this ship was his.

Buddy: well, I know in my heart that in his final moments, he must have repented and gone--

Fabian: no. No. He's in hell now

Buddy: no!

Fabian: fighting the Devil himself.

Buddy: no don't say that about your --

Fabian: no, I've visited him.

Adaine: oh he's so happy there. He would not like it in Heaven.

Fabian: yes, he actually really likes it there. he got a third arm.

Adaine: his boat is made of a dragon. It's rad.

Fabian: you should go to hell sometime. I mean, I know you don't want to, but it's fun.

Buddy: so, I'm gonna give this milk back.

Fabian: are you sure?

Buddy: yea

Fabian: well, if you choose to be a bad baby--

Adaine: I'll take it

Fabian: yes

Siobhan: I'm double fisting bad baby milk

Fabian: we got a whole year for you to decide you wanna be a bad baby

Buddy: no, if I was gonna be a baby, I would want to be a baby that walks in the light of the corn God.

Fabian: oh that's so -- you know, our friend Kristen was a big cornhead when we met. I mean I guess that's rude to say. Was a big follower of Helio when we first met her.

Buddy: she was the chosen one

Fabian: yea

Adaine: sure

Buddy: she was chosen by Helio.

Adaine: who's the chosen one now? You're the chosen one?

Fabian: are you the chosen one?

Adaine: Are you the chosen one now? [Still double fisting milk and vodka]

Brennan: here, you see he gets kinda somber and he always [as Buddy]: well that's not really how it works. When Kristen left the church we lost our chosen one.

Adaine: oh

Fabian: mm

Buddy: how's things working out with her new God, though?

Adaine: oh my God, her new God is, like, rad

Fabian: so sick

Adaine: so sick, so many people love her

Fabian: yea, I follow--

Adaine: and they get on really well

Fabian: yea they have awesome -- there's this guy that they hang out with named Craig.

Adaine: oh that guy rules

Fabian: Craig is a firecracker

Adaine: and okay, like Helio chose her, but she chose Cassandra. And like, that's--

Fabian: yes

Adaine: -- important

Ally: I'm crying

Fabian: so you know, it's awesome. It's awesome.

Adaine: yea

Buddy: well, that's lovely. Is Kristen around somewhere? I mean, other than right here? Hi, Kristen. [Gestures to Fig, who is disguised as Kristen]

Emily: oh! I forgot I was here. [As Fig pretending to be Kristen]: uh, I'm glad you said all of those true things about me.

Fabian: of course

Fig/"Kristen": I'm gonna go do another shrimp jump.

Fabian: yes, hold it down!

Ally: another shrimp jump?!

Buddy: you're gonna do another shrimp jump? It can't possibly be as good as the first.

Fabian: oh, you'll see about that

Adaine: oh we'll see about that

Buddy: it can't possibly be as good as the first!

Riz: you're right it can't possibly be as good as the first, that's true

Buddy: okay

Riz: maybe just --

Buddy: okay! Hey everybody, we're about to see another shrimp jump! Here we go!

Fabian: rack em up! Rack em up! Rack em up!

Fig: hangman, I need you to move that fiery tartar sauce to light the ramp on fire so we can't do this, okay?

Hangman: you need me to burn the ramp so that it is unusable?

Fig: yea

Hangman: very well

Brennan: you see that the hangman says "ah, I'm going to put my shrimp costume back on" and then goes around a hedge and emerges in hell hound form. And you see that Buddy goes [as Buddy]: oh my God! A servant of the devil! [As Brennan]: And you see that he says [as the Hangman]: go fuck yourself! [As Brennan]: and then rushed off and breathes fire all over the ramp and sets fire to it

*whole group exclaims dramatically* oh shit!

Gorgug: smells good

Brennan: yea all that butter

#brennan lee mulligan #dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #ep 6 party politics #siobhan thompson #lou wilson #ally beardsley #zac oyama #emily axford #brian murphy

[dksw0rld]

How I achieved being the happiest I’ve ever been during the hardest year I’ve ever been through

I stopped waiting for the weekend to live life

If a friend asks me to go out to grab a drink on a Thursday for happy hour I now say yes. If I want to go to the movies on a Monday I go on a Monday. I began to refuse living a life that waited for the weekend to live. 

I stopped feeling guilty for spending money on myself

When I began to make my own money in high school, I would save all of it and not spend any on myself. A lot of this was honestly due to my parents paying for everything, they wanted me to save the money I was making for college and the future. Don’t get me wrong having parents like that was and still is a blessing. At the same time, it led me to associate money with needing to hoard it to be prepared for the next step. I began to recognize and heal those thoughts. I embarked deeper on my self love journey and adopted the mindset of recognizing that I am worth every penny I spend and more, whether that be spending money on experiences, on self care, or for my future self.

I re-started a hobby I loved as a child

When I was younger, I did ballet among a few other activities. I loved all of them but ballet was (and still is) my favorite. For years I wanted to start again but let life get in the way. This year I said enough. I looked up in person classes in my area and found that all of them were way out of my price range but, instead of giving up, I found another way. I found a program that taught lessons online with an instructor. Re-starting ballet truly makes my inner-child so happy. 

 I prioritize experiences

This ties into not waiting for the weekend to live life but it deserves it’s own point. I began prioritizing finding ways to live. I look up events in my area and actually attend them. I attend events I find that bring me out of my comfort zone like dance classes in the park, roller skating with a group of people I don’t necessarily know, attending a sunflower festival, etc. I also joined a few social groups that host events and I attend those. I take weekend trips with friends. I take myself on staycations and solo weekend trips. Life really is so much fun when you actually go outside and do things!

I volunteer

I grew up volunteering and I stopped during college. This year I realized how much I missed it. I also knew it would be a great way to meet new people and foster relationships. I’ve always loved being around horses so I knew I wanted to volunteer at a barn. I googled horse barns near me and found one 8 minutes away from my apartment - this barn is a true hidden suburban gem. It’s a therapeutic horse barn for kids with special needs. I volunteer there every Friday and Saturday and am absolutely in love with it. It brings so much to my life. I also volunteer through my church home but more about that in the next point. 

I prioritized finding a church home

I grew up in the church as my Dad was an elder there for 15 years. I sort of lost touch with my faith in the past couple of years. This year I renewed my faith and prioritized looking for a church home after putting it off for a year and a half. I googled churches near me and visited one every Sunday until I felt I found the right fit. I found the church I’m at now and I cannot explain to you how life changing it’s been. I joined a community group through the church to meet more Christians my age and those people mean so much to me now. We meet every Tuesday night, we go on runs together, volunteer together, had a Friendsgiving this past year, it’s just been amazing. I’ve grown so much in my faith.

I stopped prioritizing finding love

I am truly a certified lover girl. I have so much pure love to give and craved someone who would give me the same type of love. I tried to find that person most of my life and while I’ve had some great men in my life they never were “the one”. This year I genuinely stopped prioritizing finding my person and started prioritizing myself and my life. It feels like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I’m now filled with trust that my person will come along when it’s time and until then I’m truly enjoying my season of singleness! 

I don’t care what anyone thinks

I’ve genuinely never cared what people think, even when I was younger, which has been a huge blessing. I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drum. I’ve never been ashamed to like what I like or to not like what I don’t like, no matter what the people my age were doing. I’ve always done what I’ve felt is best for my life. I never get embarrassed about anything. This notion has just intensified this year.

I don’t care about social media

I stopped going on Instagram. I deleted the app off of my phone. I deleted Twitter years ago. I don’t go on TikTok. I only use Snapchat for extra picture and video storage. I genuinely do not care about social media anymore. I don’t care for everyone to know what I’m up to. I don’t care to know what anyone else is up to. I know what’s going on in the lives of people that matter to me because I actually talk to and spend time with them. I personally don’t see the point in posting on Instagram. I don’t care to know what “celebrities” are doing. I just truly don’t care about any of it. 

I prioritize privacy 

This year I realized how important privacy is. For a whole host of reasons. Some of them being peace, less evil eye, safety, not having the pressure of trying to “keep up”. I can go on and on honestly. This year I’ve begun to say less and observe more. Since choosing private over public I’ve seen my happiness grow and my life blossom. I’m very careful with who I let into my circle. I don’t tell anyone everything. I’m selective with whom I share with and what I share. I’m truly in love with privacy. I love having beautiful experiences and no one or only the people I’m having them with knowing. 

I pay attention to myself 

This year I began to truly pay attention to myself. How I act in certain situations, my thought processes, my emotions, what I still need to work on, how I’ve grown, what triggers me, etc. Once I started doing this, healing, growth and making changes has become so much easier. I finally feel like I know myself through and through. I feel in touch with who I am. I know how to love myself and make myself happy.

I pray this new year you begin to choose happiness, because happiness will always be a choice. This year was NOT easy for me at all but I still prioritized myself and my happiness and I truly have never been happier. I pray this new year you choose yourself. I pray this year you begin to truly live. 

#dk #how i achieved happiness #life lessons #choose yourself

[m0thmancore]

a different post about religion and queer praxis

Let's talk about this. specifically because one anti-theistic asshole on a forum pissed me off enough to write a fucking essay post about the subject.

I was raised agnostic and still am. I don't consider myself any more culturally Christian than living in the States would make me by exposure. Obviously, a lot of Christians are horrible, bigoted people. No one's saying they're not. (note: I'm just talking about Christians here because I thoroughly do not know enough about other religious ones – very Christian area here. This isn't scholarly in any way it's just based on my own experiences with religion)

I've had Christians – good, humble servants of the Lord's word – spit at me in public, threaten to hurt me, splash my friends with holy water for the crime of being visibly disabled. The group of insecure, bigoted losers – because that's all they are – attempting to legislate people like me out of existence are by and large predominantly devout Christians. I have every single justified reason someone could ask for to hate Christians as a group.

but I don't.

(my high school english teachers would yell at me for starting a sentence with a conjunction)

I don't, and here's why. My mother is Catholic. Every Christmas morning, we open presents together and then she goes to service – her one act of worship a year. She's never misgendered or deadnamed my openly nonbinary cousin, who is infinitely braver than me. I'm not out to her, but I know if I came out she would hug me and go take me to get ice cream while apologizing for ever making me feel unsafe enough I had to wait this long. When she had a student she suspected was trans, I never heard her deadname them either. She's been in my corner my entire life, and yet she's a Christian.

I don't hate them all because of the local nondenominational church near me who has repeatedly been the main organizer and benefactor of my town's Pride every June for years, standing strong and refusing to cancel the event in the face of six dozen other local churches writing and signing a letter to my town government telling them this event goes against the word of the Lord. That church flies pride flags next to their sign, and replaces them and raises them higher every time they get stolen to be burned and pissed on. That church has a nonbinary reverend, who is absolutely delightful company and approaches good-natured non-queer people with love in their heart to explain gay and trans issues to people 60-70 years old and older, who all listen eagerly and acceptingly even though they themselves are also pious servants of the Lord and have been since the days of Stonewall and the AIDS crisis. When that church was partially firebombed over hosting a drag brunch, they built back and stood strong in the face of the threats, because they understood that abandoning queer people when threatened gave power to those threats. That church provides Christian services, but also worship spaces for Jewish and Muslim people who live here, since we're very isolated from any temples or synagogues, and have received pushback for this as well. (i think these are the right words – again, i really don't know much about those religions) They have a sign above the door that says welcome in English, Hebrew, and Arabic. When I walk in there, I do feel welcome. That church gave me the first place I felt comfortable to present openly to strangers as a woman, and yet they're predominantly Christians.

I don't hate them all because of the Lutheran church I pass on the way to work, whose sign is lit with queer and trans flags in the shape of hearts, captioned by "God's love is for all." I don't go to worship. The only verses of the Good Book that I know are the ones that bigots level against me. And yet, I cry a bit every time I drive by that church because of how good it feels to know someone is listening and willing to stand with people like me right now, and the people listening are Christian.

I don't hate them all because of the Methodist church I worked Sunday food service as a volunteer at because I was desperately in love with one of the non-binary volunteers, of which there were five or six. The mostly older people who came through the line for omelets after the early service were respectful of these visibly trans line cooks and wait staff, even occasionally asking for names and pronouns and curiously and openly discussing gender with if we had the time. When one pastor gave a sermon about how queer people were made in the image of God as well as non-queer people that I sat through as a not-yet-out agnostic girl, I felt loved, even as half the church left in a rage and the pastor forgave them, understanding they had been misled. All of those people were Christians.

I don't hate Christians, I hate bigots, and there is a world of difference between those two categories, even if they do overlap frequently. Painting all Christians as frenzied, screaming queermisic pundits ignores the work that some of them do for people like me, who live in places where the church is the best safety net there is.

I don't believe in the Lord or his word. When I reach out and show love to people who don't necessarily understand me but will show me the same courtesy, it's because I believe it's the right thing to do, not because I was told it was. And yet, some of those who were told that and believed it as I did have been my greatest allies.

(if you made it this far, thanks for reading my emotional ranting lmao)

#fuck i hope this has no typos #lgbtq #lgbtqiia+ #queer #rant #gay #christianity #jesus christ #praxis #methodism #lutheran #catholic #catholiscism #transgender #trans

[kylejsugarman]

12, 14, 21 :)

since u didnt specify, im going with demi on these because they skew a little more towards an adult/her 😔 i luv her and i luv u

12. Does your OC's family practice any faith or religion? Does your OC still practice? Why or why not?

demi's father came from a converted christian background and her mother's family practiced shamanism. sam henry was pretty firm on their family being christian but since he was away so often, their actual church attendance and worship was spotty and josephine was able to teach her kids some shamanism and tell those stories in his absence. their actual religious affiliation deteriorated by the time demi was a teenager, so she never felt particularly aligned with one or the other. currently, she doesnt practice any religion (demi voice: do u ever think about god and just kind of. feel nothing?? jesse voice: All The Time), but she has gone back to shamanism a few times to reacquaint herself with the faith so she could tell baby about it as it pertains to their yupik culture. demi appreciates and respects it, but shes never felt particularly moved by any faith or spiritual practice

14. Who was your OC's first love? How do they remember that person now?

demi had a few crushes in middle and high school, but her first "love" was a boy she met her sophomore year of college in an applied chemistry class—peter. he was from anchorage and had the kind of bright eyes and radiant smile that demi was used to seeing in celebrities; seeing that smile was enough to turn her to jello. demi was able to muster the confidence to talk to him since they were in the same group for class's lab component, and was just enamored with his intellect and easygoing confidence. the latter kind of reminded her of samantha, how she so easily slipped into any conversation or social arrangement. it was a trait demi had always admired. they got lunch on campus a few times and hung out and even made out, but demi eventually realized he wasnt really interested in having a relationship with her. it was like she was a practice round for him before he moved on to a "better" girl. for a long while demi just misses peter, but her recollections of him become tinged with bitterness and sadness as she gets older and recognizes how blasé he really was about her feelings.

21. If your OC could speak to their childhood self, what would they say?

oh my god. "it's going to be ok. it's going to be so hard, but it's going to be ok. u deserve peace and ur going to get it. the world is better because ur in it, i promise. don't let anyone convince u otherwise."

#waltj #ask #syd squeaks #thank u so much march 🥺🥺 #ask meme #demi ayuluk #jesse pinkman #sam henry ayuluk #josephine ayuluk

[ashleywool]

What do I have left to be delusional about?

Back in late June, shortly after the Spectrum Club 7 found out we were going to make our Broadway debuts but we weren't allowed to tell anyone yet, we were processing all our feelings about it in our group chat.

All of us have faced some struggles to fit in, struggles to find and use our authentic voices in a world that wasn't designed for us. We had a lot of conversations about "imposter syndrome" and how it manifests in very specific ways in neurodivergent people--particularly women/AFABs.

"If I'm going to be on Broadway," one of us said, "what do I have left to be delusional about?"

That's something that's stuck in my head for the last few months, as I've hit career milestones that I never would have believed were possible for me as an openly autistic person. I originated a principal role on Broadway. I did an Instagram takeover for Playbill the day our show was announced. I performed at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Some of the biggest names in the entertainment industry know who I am. People are flying in from all over the country to hand-deliver fan art to me. All while we're still in PREVIEWS.

And sometimes I feel like an asshole for saying all of this, because it sounds like I'm making it up for clout, or like it's some kind of self-insert fanfic, but it's MY ACTUAL LIFE.

But other times, I can process this as reality. And those times, I allow myself the freedom to dream even bigger. If this happened, what else can happen? What other pie-in-the-sky dreams might I put out into the universe? What, indeed, do I have left to be delusional about?

Here are a few of the things I've come up with:

Host my own Christmas special, in the style of Bing Crosby and Judy Garland. I want to sing with a huge orchestra and choir and have a giant Christmas tree on stage with me. It will be called "Ashley Wool's Chosen Family Christmas" and it would feature all of my friends who wanted to participate.

Play Kira in a Broadway revival of Xanadu. I can't go more than a week without mentioning this somewhere. Kira is to me what Fanny Brice is to Lea Michele, and she made that happen, so why not me?

Also, play more Golden Age roles. I'm happy to screlt my face eight times a week, but the only place I get to use my soprano register is in church choir. I want a shot at Sarah Brown, Julie Jordan, Amalia Balash, any of 'em.

Collaborate with Missy Elliott on HTDIO remixes. Or...literally anything. (Maybe Ludacris can put in a good word for me?)

Release a full-length album of my original songs. This is probably the most technically realistic goal. For those who don't know, I already have three original singles out there. I think they're pretty good, even though they are suffering from a lack of Missy Elliott.

Buy a house. Just one. Nothing fancy. But an entire house. With a full kitchen and a dining room where I could host Thanksgiving sometimes and a yard big enough for a catio and a water feature. You know, like people used to be able to do with a high school diploma and a minimum-wage job. Well, maybe not with the water feature, but still. A house. A house would be nice.

Contribute in some major way to affordable (and ACCESSIBLE and environmentally SUSTAINABLE) housing in New York City. And other places. But especially New York. Because people are always like "iF yOu CaN't aFfOrD iT tHeN mOvE" and like...no. I love this city, millions of people love this city, and people should be able to live reasonably well in any city they want without being kajillionaires. People should be able to afford to live in the city where they work ANY JOB. I don't know why this is radical. It seems pretty basic to me. Bla bla bla bleeding heart leftist bla.

Anyway. That's my "self-insert fanfiction" list for the end of 2023.

Maybe next year it'll be even more ridiculous.

#actually autistic #spectrum club 7 #how to dance in ohio #dream big #bucket list #broadway #musical theatre #self insert fanfiction

[gloomysoup]

i'm about to go on a bit of a personal ramble here for a minute. i feel like i have a lot to say and no one to say it to, and i feel like my blog has become this safe space for me to say those things. i've shared pieces of myself (my creative work) that i haven't shared with other people before. so i'm going to get a little more personal. if you want to read, great. if not, that's fine too. maybe we'll all get something out of this. maybe we won't. either way, it's here.

i've lived in the same county, with the same people, for twenty years. twenty years in a small, conservative, god-fearing place. every single household in my neighborhood goes to church every sunday. they have bible study in my neighborhood for the adults that meets every week. i've grown up around a lot of small-mindedness when it comes to social issues. which put a lot of strain on my mental health, growing up different from anyone else. i never really fit in, even in my friend groups. there's this expectation that everyone seems to have.

i always knew i was different. there was something about me. there's a lot of things, actually, but i really just want to focus on one in particular. i never had an interest in boys. not once. i didn't really think much of it until other people my age made comments about it. i never had a boyfriend, aside from once in probably first or second grade. and we were friends, only "dated" for maybe two days. that was that. i don't really ever count it. dating never seemed like a very big deal to me for a long time. i was much more focused on school and sports. eventually i realized i was a lot more interested in girls than i ever was in boys.

i fought thru a lot of internalized stuff before i came to the conclusion that i was absolutely 100% definitely a lesbian (along w a lot of trial and error in the form of awkward college experiences). i had a lot of issues throughout middle and high school that i don't particularly need to get into. all that really matters is now.

this year, i made a vow to myself. id do more to truly love myself. to be who i am, unashamedly. i made a few changes to my diet (eating healthier, listening to the advice my doctor gave me ten years ago that i should have listened to back then, actually eating regularly for the first time in years). i got a new job, which i actually really enjoy despite how tired i always am. i love the kids i work with. my coworkers are amazing. which brings me to the latest decision i've made in an effort to keep my promises to myself.

i'm done hiding. i don't want to feel ashamed of who i am just because it doesn't fit the mold. up until recently, i've been pretty selective about who i tell that i'm gay. i never wanted it to get back to my family. i didn't want them to know. i'm still not sure i do, but it's time i stop trying to walk on eggshells all the time. i'm not sure i'll be able to say anything outright, but i don't want to hide it away anymore. i don't want to pretend to be someone i'm not. i don't want to put up more masks every time i leave the safety of my room.

i'm going to a concert in june. pride month. the concert is for my favorite queer artist. i don't want to hide my excitement at finally getting to see her live just because i'm afraid of what people will say. i don't want to carefully think through every little thing before i say something or do something, just in case it's a little too gay to brush off.

i think this is finally the year i embrace myself for who i am. maybe i'll even finally go to a pride event and post pictures. i don't want to be afraid anymore. i don't want to hide anymore. maybe this will backfire on me. maybe it won't. i guess i won't know unless i try.

#gloomysoup #gloomysoup rambles #personal rant

[mychemicalficrecs]

any priest!gerard fics besides unholyverse?

The thing is: this mod, as tumblr says, identifies religiously as 'I was raised Catholic' so going through these fics is always Interesting! But luckily, I think blasphemy and all that shit is hot. With that tmi out of the way: Here's a bunch of fic for you. I didn't try to make this Frank/Gerard, but it still happened.

Frank/Priest!Gerard

Even a Father Has Sins to Confess by MizErie, 9k, Explicit. Father Way knows it's a sin in more than one way, but he just can't help the feelings he has for the altar server in his parish. Young Frank even has aspirations of becoming a priest himself one day. And that has him spending more and more of his time with Father Way as he finishes his last year of high school and prepares to enter seminary. Will Father Way be able to resist his urges or will he succumb to the Devil's temptation?

Against the Works of the Flesh by happilyappled, 63k, Explicit. Frank Iero is the gay teenager who, after coming out to his Catholic family, faces trouble in finding himself and fitting in. He will find himself, though, through Father Way.

Guilt by silentdescant, 7k, Explicit. Frank has an obsession with Father Way.

Not A Saint by happilyappled, 6k, Explicit. Father Way is not just a priest and Frank is not just any other man.

Unholy by cupid_falls, 2k, Explicit. Frank has to stay after youth group

I'll never let them hurt you by KJBrainrot, 33k, Mature. Midnight Mass AU. What can be said about Belleville? Nothing, that's what. It's just one of those suburbs you either manage to escape from, or get stuck in forever. Mikey was of the latter school, he had never even tried to go away. He had to watch all his friends and his brother do. For a weird series of coincidences, though, they all end up back in town at the same time. It's like eighth grade all over again, except Ray's a cop, Frank's all messed up and Gerard...well, Gerard's a fucking priest.

Holy Palmers by nomdeplume (ibelieveinyou), 1k, Explicit. Unholyverse Extended Universe - Priest Gerard fucks Frank's stigmata. (Surprisingly tender)

On The Altar by SadGhostCult, 7k, Explicit. “On the altar, now, Frank,” the priest demanded again, his tone firm and strong, as if he genuinely enjoyed being the dominant one here with full control over Frank—and not only that, but the fact that although the church doors were locked, they really could be caught at any time. Plus, it was definitely a sin to fuck on the altar before Christ. --- Frank can’t remember the last time he went to church, and since he’s been kind of in a bad way recently—failing all his classes, getting into drugs, etc.—his mom forces him to not only attend this Sunday’s service, but to also go to confession with Father Way and admit his sins.

Someone Get Me to a Church by oompapa, Frank/Gerard, Bert/Gerard, Grant/Gerard, Frank/Grant/Gerard, 18k, Explicit. Can be read without watching the show. This is ‘Midnight Mass,’ streamlined with liberties taken to prioritize gay smut. Also, for the sake of forcing Grant’s sexy voice into this thing, this Angel is telepathic now. I am weak and I will see you all in hell.

The Devil's Got Your Number by frnkxo, 4k, Explicit. Frank was the leader of his church's youth group, so naturally, he wouldn't be the first and only teenager to sin and have a crisis of faith. He's a good boy. He loves his faith and his God. He cannot be swayed by the Devil. But of course, Gerard has a few tricks up his sleeve.

Twice a Week, Religiously by mashedpotatoqueen, 5k, Explicit. Frank temporarily moves back in with his parents and they tell him he is going to go to church with them. Whether he likes it or not.

The Sound as You Fall by ontheskyidance, 23k, Explicit. “Told you to be careful,” Frank whispered, sliding his palm to settle it on the edge of the handle. Gerard didn’t even breathe as he locked his fingers around it. One sharp push and the blade would be buried in his throat. “You’re Poison, then,” he guessed easily. Gerard’s lungs burned with the need to gulp air, blood deafening in his ears. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Father.”

#frank/gerard #religion

[the-a-archives]

your aesthetic always was interesting to me.

can you do those aesthetic photo explanations you used to do with a before and after you found your style?

That is a great question, and I figured that you would ask this eventually. I can do a comparison for you.

Disclaimer: If you wear the style I previously wore, I still favor the style very much, just not on me, it doesn't match my "vibe" anymore, per se.

Much like the color palette at the top of the page, I have gravitated to more muted tones as I've gotten older. However, for a good period of time, I enjoyed bright, bold colors, on oversized clothing or extreme darks that made me look unapproachable. I felt as if it hid flaws I was highly self conscious of, while making me stand out enough for people to either look towards me-- or on the contrary, so dark that they would view me as invisible.

popname.cz : pinterest

Yellow was a big color factor for me at this time, and to put it at a more ranged value, this would be around ages 17-19. For writing purposes, we'll call this period of time the (y) period. Get it? Because Yellow starts with a "Y"...? Okay, I'll stop.

During the (y) period, my style matched that of my behavior and social group of the time. I felt righteous in this small rebellious period I had after being compliant towards academics for so long. Similar to my musical evolution, this was the period where I listened to the most rock. And I still have the playlist on my Spotify to refer back to (and listen to when I need to be in the mindset to remember this area of my life). I had been trained to hate my body due to mediocre, druggy, significant others and this influenced me into buying clothes that were two-times my size to hide my figure.

(EX: At the time, I wore M, and would buy XL)

But like most busy bees, my yellow coat had a contrast and it was black. I had graduated high school, and was finally young and free. To fit into the social group I had at the time (and to complement my god awful behavior), I had made my wardrobe look like if I wanted to disappear into the shadows of a dark alleyway? I could.

My church clearly loved me.

tumblr::pinterest

By the age of 19, the end of the (y) period, I had gotten sick of the people bright colors had drawn towards me like a moth to a flame. In no way is this saying those who like bright, bold, colors are horrible people, it was just the people that I had notice ME because of these colors that were horrible. So, ridding of it entirely, I just wore black for the remainder of that age. This was also the age I had gotten bodily modifications done, some stuck, others didn't.

As if it wasn't noticeable already that I liked women, I can ensure you, it was a smack in the face now. I had gotten snake bites, a rendering tattoo sleeve that serves me today as a shrine of my favorite horror movies, and a tongue piercing because I thought it was funny. Ear gauging had also taken place, but that started when I was 13 due to it being a thing my family does as well and it's going to stay until I die.

But despite my minorly edgy clothing and the blasphemous way I wore my jewelry, that Machine Gun Kelly phase hit me like the meteor that struck the dinosaurs when I entered and exited the situation ship with my ex.

Introducing the p(ink) period.

hipland.co :: pinterest

This period is the shortest.

I will forever and always be mad that this phase left me. Pink as my favorite color was an amazing experience and if it was a human, it would be the affair I'd have in my office. I have nothing bad to say about this phase of my life. By this time, the tongue piercing had left me due to me being a biter and accidentally ripping it out of my tongue.

The p(ink) phase was so liberating because I believe that was the year where I absolutely didn't care about anything (except college but I pretended I didn't) and lived life care-free. But I was 20, and I'm now 21, so obviously that reality didn't last long. But this introduced browns to me and I soon realized that-- wow, I really like the color brown.

This is where my current style started to come in, I suppose. Because I had dropped everyone except two people in my life, 2022 was ending and I felt a real shift begin to happen in my life?

Enter what we'll just call the (A) period.

void::pinterest

I would also like to touch upon the masculine clothing I've been using since we're finally somewhere more current. This isn't a gender thing, there was a point in my life around the (y) & p(ink) period where I thought it might be a gender thing, but it isn't. I am just built like my father, and though I have feminine features, masculine clothing has just always fit my body better. I've never been one to try and willingly fit into spaces as masculine energy, but with the way I dress myself, I understand that it's in human nature to look at me and subconsciously see me as masculine so I don't mind or get offended at this. And honestly, the term "sir" gets thrown at me so many times I don't even notice it anymore. Until I open my mouth obviously and they're like, "That's a woman!!" [quote: random barista at local coffee shop].

But anyways, browns were very easy to pair with light colors such as white's and beige's. But this was the biggest period where I had thrown most of my clothing away (it was really donated, but you get the point). And little by little, I had began to introduce these muted tones, and an overall different style into my life. I had invested in more collared shirts, trousers, blazers, sweaters, etc.

Something about this had made me feel more put together. More me too, in a sense. This came with a lifestyle change too, obviously, gone were the days of just doing whatever I wanted just to avoid responsibilities in my life. However, I missed the darker tones I used to wear so they found their way back to me eventually.

I'm not a big T-shirt person unless its a solid color with no design, I'm not a jeans person unless I'm wearing a white T-shirt, I have casual shoes I've kept from previous phases for the sake of color options but I mostly wear black boots now. I've found I favor turtlenecks, and clothes that fit my figure instead of being wildly oversized, and trousers I can match a good belt to.

I can give you a flurry of example photos, ready?

Bam.

luxuryandvintagemadrid.com : pinterest

Boom.

void::pinterest

Pow.

nana : pinterest

Okay, that's it. Hope it helped. :)

bisous,

A.

#anon ask #dark academia #long post #light academia #aesthetic clothes #my hearing aids match my outfits #about-A

[fan-mans]

Now I’m curious about the Super Punch-Out!! dancing and music headcanons. If you don’t mind, of course.

I don't think about these guys too often, but I'll give it a shot! (I'm making an exception from my wii-only headcanons for you, dear anon)

Gabby Jay:

He plays the pipe organ of all things! He plays for a local church all the time and also plays piano for their choir. Not particularly noteworthy but still a skilled musician.

He sounds like Tom Kenny when he sings and when he tries for low notes he squawks like a crow. That being said, he DOES have fun and does not give a shit about his skills. He's too old to care about who thinks he's cringe so he sings whenever he wants!

An ex-ballerina like Glass Joe, but struggles a bit more due to his age. He does have more skill but big leaps are always a 50/50 on whether or not he'll end up roughing up a muscle or two.

Piston Hurricane:

Plays the guitar. He's pretty good with acoustic and frequently helps Bob write songs. He's been dipping his toes into bass and electric guitar and really loving it so far.

Average singer, though he has fun while doing it. He gets really bad stage fright though so don't ask him to do karaoke. Bob sometimes features his voice in tracks but credits him under a secret name at Hurricane's request. He's quiet and whispery, but some encouragement and singing with others makes him open up.

He's from Cuba so dancing's in his blood! He knows tons of dances and is particular to the mambo and cha-cha-cha. He's always down to groove with someone or by himself but does like dancing in a group or with a partner more often than not.

Bob Charlie:

He plays a few instruments but focuses on electric guitars and synths. Music is truly a lifestyle of his and part of almost everything he does. He's basically made of music. He's had a ton of classical training and even working his way towards a doctorate in music theory!

His voice is relaxed, low, and overall very smooth. He's a great singer and always a treat to listen to. Though he prefers going solo with his singing, duets with friends is something he'll never turn down. A constant hummer and singer.

He's THE jive king of Jamaica!!! He can dance real good! He likes 50s/60s style dancing like jiving, jitterbug, and swing over dancehall stuff. This made him a bit of a point of mockery from his peers but he doesn't let it get to him. He has 2 favorite dance partners, one being a former girlfriend and long time friend of his back in Kingston and the other being Hurricane ;) Hurricane is teaching him how to mambo and Bob is loving it to bits.

Dragon Chan:

Plays the Dizi and Hulusi, two traditional wind instruments. He plays bassoon and oboe too. He was apart of a lot orchestras and school bands growing up so he's pretty familiar with music.

Can't sing. His teeth make him very self conscious and he has a very obvious lisp so singing is not something he ever pursued. He also considers his voice to be too 'girly' because it's high-pitched and breathy, so hearing it in song wouldn't be something he enjoyed anyways. Beatboxing is a bit of a hobby of his and something he practices regularly, though he's never been brave enough to show off.

The only traditional dances he can do are the Wulong 'dragon dance' and the Jianwu 'Sword dance'. Outside those two, he's another b-boy and loves his kicks and spins. He's also been picking up ballet from Heike and incorporating it into his style.

Masked Muscle:

Has never played an instrument ever. Nope never. (Played glockenspiel in middle school but swears it never happened because it embarrasses him)

His singing is quite nice! He's particular to love ballads because that's where he can flex the most but keeps it a closely guarded secret at all times. He is fairly happy to grito when singing, though, including while singing along to punk and rock music.

Not much of a traditional dancer. All dancing skills of his lie in club dancing- man goes buckwild for that shit.

Aran Ryan (Snes version):

Plays the clarinet and penny whistle, though hes far better at the clarinet. He was a band kid throughout school and bullied a lot for it (Among many other things) Right now, he's trying to pick up the penny whistle again so he can feel more connected to his culture.

He can sing, but very average. Though he likes to sing folk songs and shanties, his voice dies out when he's expected to sing in irish. He just can't speak the language and lacks any confidence to try, so his voice gives out.

Not a dancer at all. He's got no skill whatsoever and thinks dancing would make him look stupid.

Heike Kagero:

Though he does play shamisen, he much prefers to play with his soundboard when making music. He's got a love for synths and digital music that far outweighs any interest in traditional instruments. They do like playing the traditional flute samples Dragon recorded for them though... like a lot

He can sing very well! However, singing in a falsetto range is tough on them so they don't do it as often as they want. His voice is a bit on the deep side and makes him kind of dysphoric most days. They're actually a bit jealous of Dragon's voice and wishes they could sing in the range he speaks without straining themselves.

He's a damn ballerina and kabuki of course he can dance!!! They adore dancing with Gabby (And sometimes joe) and do it at least a little bit every day. He's a master of the art and very proud of that fact.

Mad Clown:

Not an instrument guy but can tear it up on kazoo.

As a professional ex-opera singer... yeah he can sing! He practices to this day and even used his skills back when he was a clown. Even today, his voice is a strong and overwhelming bass- it brings most to tears.

He's not much of a dancer. What he can do was stuff he learned in the circus and tends to make him look silly as a result. Though, he does do a mean waltz and knocks socks off when he picks his partner up and makes them feel like a fairytale princess (he can be a very romantic fellow)

Narcis Prince:

He plays loads of instruments but has only kept up with piano, viola, and piccolo. Viola his his favorite, followed by piano, though he plays piccolo more because he can just carry it in his pocket all the time. He likes showing off a lot and knows how skilled he is. Also he likes playing the recorder as awful as possible to make people mad.

Though he has gotten proper vocal training, he doesn't sing much. His voice is often muddled because he has a very odd range as a tenor and might even be a rare contra-tenor but he's never tried singing so high. His big claim to fame is being able to consistently break glass with a wail. He can do it while singing too, but he prefers the wail because it's much more awful on the ears. He normally employs this on people who piss him off. It's pretty effective at scaring people (With the sole exception of his family maid) and works well in getting him what he wants when threats don't work.

Not a dancer at all. He did ballet lessons all his life but refused to learn anything, his teacher gave up very quickly and just watched him play basketball instead.

Hoy Quarlow:

Plays the pipa and quin quin and even tried the electric pipa and bass! He definitely likes his lutes and has been very interested in trying more guitars. Most of what he does is at home and non-professional, so he's just having fun.

He sings mostly folks songs but does love blues as well. Age hasn't been too kind to his voice, making it rough and hard to sing, though he's still got a lot of strength and passion in him! In his youth, his voice was very solid and even, but now it tends to crack.

Traditional dancing is his main skillset but he can do a mean Charleston. He is banned form doing the Charleston because he keeps throwing his back out. Everyone has had to stop him from attempting to krump at least once at this point. Old man has so much groove in him but his bones no longer have the strength to support his passion.

Rick Bruiser:

He and Nick played trombone in school, but only he kept it up. Playing around with it in public is something he does for fun all the time. Though, he isn't allowed to play in the house anymore after he kept following Nick around and doing long slides whenever he did anything.

Not a singer. Even with the same voice as his brother, this guy can't hold a note no matter how hard he tries.

He and Nick aren't dancers- they think it's stupid and for girls.

Nick Bruiser:

Played trombone and hated it. He was always more into drums and wanted to play the timpani but couldn't bring himself to stray too far from Rick. Nowadays he drums on just about everything he can and can hold a solid beat but hasn't convinced himself to buy a drumkit... yet.

A great singer but doesn't sing. Their dad mocked him for it and made Nick feel like singing was something unmanly and unfitting for him. He still carries this sentiment heavily and looks down on men in choirs and refuses himself the pleasure of singing along to anything.

Like said above, him and Rick think dancing is for women. Neither brother had passion for dancing anyways but when their mom caught them trying pirouettes (So they could get dizzy) she shut it down very fast and punished them for trying to be girly.

Peter Punch (Birdie):

Swapped between a lot of instruments before settling on the sax. He also liked being in drumline but didn't like carrying his drums around. He's been in jazz bands but normally just sticks to playing on the street for funsies.

Average singer, but only ever sings along to songs on the radio. He tends to get distracted and start giggling while singing so he isn't the best person to go to if you want something serious.

He does square dancing and polka dancing. A lot of people find it goofy but he doesn't care- his family has been doing it for ages and he's more than happy to keep up the tradition.

#peter punch #nick bruiser #rick bruiser #hoy quarlow #narcis prince #mad clown #heike kagero #aran ryan #masked muscle #dragon chan #bob charlie #piston hurricane #gabby jay #super punch out #punch out #headcanons #oof this took forever lmao #my hcs

[twst-drabbles]

I know you asked about the favorite fic question a while ago. But we shall call this fashionably late!

I’ve always got a sweet spot for the Octavinelle bunch! I was the one who requested the wind up toy one and Azul’s first words.

My favorite pieces are Octavinelle 3 and Savanaclaw, Scarabia, and Pomefiore 1. Honestly I couldn’t tell you how much I read them over the span of a couple of months. It was like a nightly ritual. I’m not sure what it was about those but I’d give them a quick read before bed and be immensely satisfied.

And a new favorite addition is the windup toy one. I love how you described Floyd more as observant in that one. And every time you described one of em punching the frog I imagined a peacock mantis shrimp punches. I can so vividly see the sand being scuffled about.

I’d have to say you’re like the famous last bite of a meal. Or a tart pastry! You don’t over sugar your stuff and I love ya for it! In fact you’ve become the only way I’ve been reading fluff nowadays and am eager to see more constantly! Which is so weird cause I’m an angst reader/writer 100%.

I really admire your short formatting of writing. At first I’ll admit I always wanted more but then I thought to myself what else could there possibly be to add? Thus I discovered your talent for endings! As you can tell from this long message, I always write a bunch so seeing impactful short stuff “by my standards”, will help with that issue I hope.

And lastly I really like how the caretaker can either be their own character or a self insert! I’d never go on any trips with Vargas yet here I am giving a pat on the back to caretaker and telling em good luck! Or how while I’m not the most avid Silver or Kalim enjoyer sometimes I’m like ok caretaker gimme the wheel again I think I’m starting to “L word” them a little more. Also nicknaming the Octavinelle bunch “little shits” is always super homey to me and it feels so right!

This is just a long winded thank you for what you’ve written thus far! I really enjoy everything you put out. And I can’t wait to breach into your oc blog. If you love angst I’m a great supplier in requests!- Signed yours truly Frosty!~

No need to worry, there isn't a due date to any of it and I'm always welcoming to such essays spouting what your favorites might be! It cheers me up no matter how late they may be.

I certainly do love messing around with the Octavinelle group as one of my family members actually used to take care of fish. I loved feeding them and just watching them swim from one end of the tank to the other. While, by all means, they're not your standard fish, it's still fun to sneak in a little fun fact about aquatic life when I can.

Actually, back in the middle of my high school years, I used to write rather long winded myself, as a result of all the old novels I would read that would have such a writing style.

Example from one of my oooooold pieces of writing down below, regarding a Church Grim.

It didn't make any noise whatsoever. It didn't leave footprints in the soft grass, or even a lingering stench on the tree's bark to indicate it might be something of this living world. But, there was nothing to remember it by, beside those angry red eyes that would shift into sight from under its smoking plume of black. It would take a glance at you, and you would stare back into it. Then it would be gone by letting its form be embraced by the shadows created from leafy tree branches. You can see it again through the lush trees blanketed by the cloudy purple night. You watched it float through the flower garden without a purpose, much like a piece of paper in the wind, shifting from one place to another in an effortless glide.

Well, actually I can still write like this, but it's not a writing style tailored for my decaying attention span. I have to be in a certain mood to really get into it. But yeah, I preserve this style specifically for horror writing and professional novel writing.

And yes the self insert certainly has a personality that it won't match your actions word for word, as the reader insert is a character, a part of the narrative, so they must have some amount of agency to keep the story going less they become replaceable with a lampshade or camera.

So, instead of going down the route of keeping the reader insert as blank as possible, might as well give them a personality that people will remember. Every time I write about the Caretaker, I feel like a little unseen ghost looking over their shoulder, just wondering what they'll do next.

Thank you Frosty for taking the time to write all that to me. It really cheers me up while I'm laying in bed, under mountains of blankets.

#admin #NRClutter

[fizzingwizard]

Funny little thought.

From the time I was six till I was about fifteen, my family was entrenched in evangelicalism. From age 10, I started going to the school at my church, which meant I was inundated with religion six out of seven days a week. Only Saturday was free of it. And some days I would get religious lessons at school, go home, then go back to church, which was the school, for evening youth group and stuff. Looking back it just feels like a lot, but.

Somehow I still wiggled out of that mindset and I think a lot of my peers did too, tbh. After all, church is where I learned what different sex acts were and about homosexuality. Not from people saying how evil they were - of course there were plenty of adults doing that, but the kids were all totally unconcerned and eager to shock other kids with what they knew hahaha.

Anyway, there's lots I could talk about, but what I was thinking about today was pretty innocent effect of being required to think of religion and only religion as a valuable pursuit for such a big chunk of childhood. It was about music. I was allowed to read and watch anything that was age appropriate, regardless of whether it was "Christian" enough. My parents would have objected if there had been sex or homosexuality (or rather if they'd known there was those things >_>;), but for the most part it wasn't hard to keep those things private.

Music was different because I played it in my room. On a stereo. Without headphones x'D I did have an mp3 player which I took with my on walks, but the things I liked to dance in my room. Not conducive to wearing headphones. So I would blast music pretty much constantly when I was home. And my options for acceptable music were pretty much: secular music my parents had grown up with and couldn't see anything unacceptable in it, or Christian Contemporary Music (CCM).

Well, I didn't hate my parents' favorite bands, but they weren't very now. So my favorite musicians were artists no one but my best friend had ever heard of. He and I would belt their songs whenever we felt like it, so just imagine two nerdy kids biking up and down the road screeching "JESUS IS THE WAY THE TRUTH THE LIGHT" off-key because we keep going in and out of each other's ear shot xP

These were some of my favorite artists:

Point of Grace

Third Day

Avalon

Rachael Lampa

Casting Crowns

MercyMe

Skillet

Steven Curtis Chapman

ZoeGirl

Rebecca St James

Mark Schultz

V*enna

And so many more that I've forgotten. And I loved them whole-heartedly. I just went through the wikis for some early 2000s WOW Music CDs and literally my heart clenched with nostalgia seeing some of the song titles and artist names that I haven't thought about in so long. It brought back an era of my life that I feel so out of touch with now. It's not that I miss it exactly, but I suppose I miss that naivete and security I had at that age, which was mostly due to being a kid with a pretty decent childhood. It's similar nostalgia that I feel when I think back on high school, or non-school memories before that.

Music gets so wrapped up with memory that no matter what, I can't dislike these CCM artists. Nor can I forget about them. I still listen to a few favorites, especially songs by Point of Grace, which seems like such a weird group to become the favorite of a 10 year old, but me and my best friend were obsessed, like obsessed with them at that age. Bought ever album and knew all the words.

When I listen to those CCM songs now, as an adult, a lot of them don't hold up. We used to get told that "Christian content usually falls short when it's literature or movies, but music is equal to secular stuff." I don't think that's 100% wrong, but it's certainly not as clear a success story as we were told it was. My main beef is with the female artists, many of whom just leaned in so much on purity and abstinence, even while some of them pandered a lot to secular audiences. But it's not just the themes but the lyrics and music itself. V*enna, which as far as I know had only one CD, is just some of the worst music. I liked their album as a kid, but when I listened to it a while back I was just cringing. Really amateurish, so no wonder it didn't go far.

But there's a lot of fun to be had with CCM too, like Audio Adrenaline's rock cover of Little Drummer Boy which still splits my ear drums while making me ask "Why?" And there's the nonsensical conundrum of groups like Skillet or Creed, which some fans who only knew their secular stuff are stunned to learn they were included in Christian music stores. Or Jump5, a tween bobby group which sang about God, made money by putting tracks in Disney movies, and overall existed to make money.

Speaking of money. When I was fourteen, our youth group decided to start a band and I was a vocalist. The band only had one performance. You know why? The pastor at my church LEAPT on the idea because he thought we would get famous and... make lots of money for the church...?? Honestly, we were VERY amateurish, the lead singer I think was decent but very much did not want to be in the band long term, the musicians were so-so, and I was definitely so-so. But the pastor got involved and pressed us to be amazing and to have an amazing band name which I can't remember anymore and well we just flopped. None of us were into the idea but him. If he hadn't gotten dollar signs in his eyes we might've had a bit of fun, which was the only intention. But this was a pastor who was bent on his plan to make the church a mega-church and becime famous for his Idk pastor skills or whatever.

Back to music. So I do still love those artists from my childhood, regardless of how good they are objectively. But I got to wondering, what kind of music would I have been a fan of at that age (early teens) if I hadn't felt like secular stuff was off limits? I did somehow become a fan of Avril Lavigne and I am not even sure how that happened. One year my dad bought me Hilary Duff's first CD, which told me that he had no idea what my music tastes were or that we didn't even pay for the channel her shows were on so I didn't know who she was :P (But I appreciated the effort at bonding lol) That's much cleaner than Avril, at least.

Aside from Avril, I think I probably would have been a My Chemical Romance girl. Honestly, I probably would've been annoying into them if I found them at the right age. But I never heard "Helena" until this year. Fall Out Boy maybe, Green Day? Snow Patrol, Pink, Bjork, Nightwish are some groups I became fans of later, once I was out of the church. Best friend introduced me to Vienna Teng and Tori Amos. I like rock and metal now, but as a teen I didn't much, and I'm trying to think what was popular when I was in high school. I would go to the movies and not recognize any of the songs in them haha.

I just had the funny thought that I could have been so different as a teenager if I'd listened to different music... I bet I'd have been more emo or something lol. Idk, the groups that pop into my mind seem emo.

super nostalgia now whoa

/conversation with teenage fizz haha

#fizz's life #music

[unnaturalequilibrium]

Vätternrundan 2023

I've done this twice now and I can easily say it's turned into one of my favourite things. It's a 315 kilometre long bike race around a lake. At a maximum you have 28 hours and 30 minutes to finish. From 7:30 pm on the Friday throughout the night and into the Saturday morning you have groups of riders starting every two minutes and the cut off for the finish-line is midnight Saturday. So depending on how long you think it will take you pick a starting time when you sign up and then you do your best. This year I started a little after 5 am and finished ten minutes past 7 pm.

I’m trying to distil down into words what it is about this that I love so much and it’s not one simple thing, it’s that combination of several really cool things. From a purely personal point of view I fucking love the challenge. It is a long fucking distance to cycle in one go and it’s a pretty challenging course. After you’ve done around 200 kilometres there is a stretch of around 50 kilometres that is pretty much a continuous uphill and that is both so incredibly challenging mentally and physically. If you haven’t kept up with nutrition and hydration throughout the first sections then those hills will kick your butt so fucking hard. This year it was pretty warm throughout the entire night/day and I think it reached around 28 degrees Celsius. That shit took it’s toll on your body, it was hard to get as much liquid and salts into you that you needed (I made the mistake of wearing an all black cycling kit, I looked like a zebra due to all the salt stains when I finished). And then there’s the mental side, because when you got to those sections there were so many people who either got off their bikes, or were resting by the side of the road waiting to be picked up by the support cars because they simply didn’t have it in them to finish. That fucks with you, because if they can stop, why shouldn’t you? You’re hurting and it’s hard, so why shouldn’t you too get off your bike and just stop? But somehow there is such a fucking kick in getting those devil horns of yours out and keep pushing, just keep fucking pedalling. There are loads of spectators all along the course and they usually do the whole “you can do it!” and “you’re looking strong!” etc, but my absolute favourite was an old man in a beach chair in a very relaxed and reassuring voice as we were mid-through some of the worst climbs simply telling us “it’s good, you’re grinding, keep grinding”. There was just something about his tone that hit perfectly, no big rah-rah, just keep grinding and you’ll get there. And I did.

That’s the other part I love about it though, the spectators. Last year we started around 4 am and it was pouring down rain, still even then there were people along the road cheering us on and it’s...it’s kinda of cool. This year the weather was so much better and I lost count of the number of houses and farms you rode past where they’d pulled out tables and chairs and were having parties alongside the road, blasting music and cheering the riders on. There’s a Hallelujah hill with some church holding sermons and then there’s Karaoke farm where they keep blasting Eurovision songs and singing along loudly and off key. It’s just a mad fucking trip across the countryside and it’s – mad and fun.

But the thing that really gets under my skin and makes me a little high are the people doing the race. Because this is not something that is locked behind some kind of elitist mindset. This is a “race” for everyone (I keep calling it a race, but it isn’t, it doesn’t have a winner, there’s no price money, it’s just for fun). There are professionals for sure, but then there is every other kind of person you can think of to. A staple of the race has become an old man who now is in his seventies who’s ridden, I think every year, the race has been on, and he rides in a pair of worn jeans, on an old bike with 3 gears and in the front basket he’s got a old school boombox for company.

At the last stop I chatted away with a group doing a charity ride, at that point I was fucking pooped and had been going at it for almost 13 hours, but it got put into perspective as I heard about their journey and how they were closing in on 24 hours on the go. But my favourite thing was that the thing they thought was hardest was going to the portaloos in the middle of the night with no lights in them, trying to wrestle in and out of bike clothes. That mentality, I fucking love it.

It might sound mad, but I love it so much even though parts of it are really hard mentally and physically. I already know I’m going to sign up for next year again (that was something decided as the day after we finished). It didn’t matter that my knees felt like those of a geriatric and that my hands were well blistered or my left butt cheek suffered some serious chaffing - I was ready to start training for next year.

The feeling of accomplishment, happiness and knowing you will take on and finish a challenge – yeah, I might not be doing this in my seventies, but I get that man. I really do. And who knows, one year at a time I guess.

And if you're contemplating doing mad shit like this come talk to me and I'll persuade you it's absolutely something you have to do.

#vätternrundan #road cycling #cycling #long post

[veronicasims4player]

Honestly this may end up being more for random questions I have that I can't figure out the answer to. I have had an issue for a while. I crave touch(like hugs) but am shy and introverted to the extreme when not online(like if I see someone in person I might be a bit less open with feelings and only talk about meaningless things{like what Video game I'm playing or what I'm doing in said game} and get awkward if a serious topic comes up.) admittedly some of that pops up if I'm messaging someone one on one. I love hugs, but I get awkward when I get them, and have no idea how to ask for one(my friend Anna(fake name) loved initiating hugs and it was awesome, even if it was only once a week. one time at youth group(I grew up going to church, and I still do with my parents, who I still live with) we were sitting next to each other and she let me hold her hand. she and Cassandra(also fake name) were my best friends at the time.(we aren't as close now but honestly they are probably the closest I have to best friends) the only times I really interact with people other than my family(and after the teenage "hugs from mom and dad are embarrassing" we haven't had much physical contact with the exception of Christmas eve services, where I often lean against my mom because I'm A.D.D. and bored.) are church and work(church once a week and work typically 2-3 days a week, sometimes 4 days.) those aren't good times to ask for hugs or get close to friends(most of my co-workers are in high school and I'm 21, so it may be a bit weird to ask for hugs, even from the co-worker I'm closest to. although I probably am not the one Abigail(fake name) is closest to. I had heard of touch starvation and googled it and my issues don't match the symptoms so I am curious if this is actually something that relates to me or if I'm wrong? like, there have been times I've really wanted a hug, but couldn't ask because it would be awkward. the most recent hug I got was a couple weeks ago at an honor walk for work(I'm essentially a waitress at an assisted living home, and an honor walk happens when a resident dies) because I started crying. and before that was probably April(and only twice when I stayed at my grandma's for a week).

#touch starved #am I touch starved? #I'm also autistic and bipolar if that's important #help? please? #google was not helpful #and I don't use reddit #this probably won't be a place where I post funny shit #I might make another account that is #I don't know #I'm not funny #maybe I'm just socially awkward?