#i know this is christianity bullshit that i grew up with but it sure feels like I'm being punished

[baelmoder]

it really is a godsend that nobody is here

i've always felt like i lived in a shadow, maybe of some building that nobody else could really see, despite all of them living within it. now i think that building is god, but it is a dead and uncaring god, or it is asleep, and i dont want to awaken it. everything is sunlight, and god is the sun, and sunlight burns me because i am unfit for it. who knows what kind of unholy bullshit is going to come out of that building when i tickle its belly the residents already hate me lets shelf that for a second lol

i left twitter, let's say, more than two years ago. i was on it for a few years? and before that i was basically never actually on social media. there were a few moments where i /tried/ to enter some community or another? like i joined a souncloud mashup server once (the atrium), and i briefly entered a discord for an anime essay channel, but i left and i got kicked out because i was saying ass backwards reactionary logic shit. so the biggest thing i ever did was Be Kae Dotmoe, and what that meant was, plunging blindly into anitwitter, orbiting around the plasuible deniability right wing podcaster losers like Polyphemus, until I found kayfaraday, resident extremely weird christian chiptune artist who at least creatively had the same affect as me, of the sort of nonsensical schizophrenia on which postmodernist ficiton thrives and upon which fascism subsists. nazism, like, relies on genocide to build the pyramids, and relies on people like me to put aliens in its thrusters.

and then i met good people. i met a bunch of lesbian lolicons is the insulting thing to call them. i like women, and i am a girl, and i hate the world of adults so id like to think we were cut from the same cloth? but maybe because i still have something i havent gotten diagnosed, which i doubt because ive met therians, ive met littles, ive met people with adhd and bpd and clinical schizophrenia, people who are plural and shit. but i havent met people like me. they couldnt put up with it. i hurt them a lot. so i had to leave. also i got bored of the nazis when they started being predictable, and also, like, obviously evil and wanting me dead i guess but who doesnt right.

So i left, not for Drama and not for Discourse, but because, like much of my life, i felt like i wasnt welcome and i wasnt making much of it. also? I just couldnt handle it anymore. i grew incredibly jealous, it made me feel physically sick to see people happy. to be themselves, to be with the people they loved. to do things that expressed this happiness about themselves and others, and the things they shared. i lived more than an ocean away. it felt like i never had a chance, and that feeling overwhelmed me. i've always been living under the ocean, but i guess the submarine depressurised? i dont know. im still alive anyway, im here, but its so quiet now. anyway, i was also getting really paranoid, on one hand nobody talked about me so i was going to die alone and never get to be kae, on the other hand the few people who did were surely badmouthing me in places i wasnt invited to. they let me hang around but i was never invited to the parties. i know of this metaphor because i read it in american stories about school children and stuff. i dont relate to it personally because when i was in school i didnt even "get to hand around". the only two people i talked to was a kid with aspergers and a furry. we talked about ytp and mlp. well, the point is, they dont talk to me anymore anyway. i randomly came out to a schoolmate i knew from back then? i helped her out a few times? I printed her musical score, she was in chinese orchestra. i asked for a favour in return, that being a hug. i didnt love her or anything, i just really needed it? and in all that time twitter is basically over anyway. tumblrs still alive, but like. im not Doing A Thing. Im never going to Do A Thing again. im "over it".

i guess what im really getting to, though, is, im trying to figure out what I /Am/ or what Im /For/. like, what is this machine or tool or toy built for. Me and keffie clicked, we hella schizoposted? I wasnt putting it on. i know the nazis are completely disingenous but theres a trace of genuine fun behind all the larping, costumes is fun. but i wasnt even slightly cynical, i was really just.. fully sincerely and desperately myself, all the time. i cant help but be myself, even if myself never works. so like Im SOMETHING, that nervous energy and constant bullshit and rambling sentences and trying to link concepts. and yea? I figured out im a girl? Im like, another one of the million trans girls with a mommy kink who identifies with being a puppy but who still likes cock or whatever. im not denying that im not special, i dont hate to be one of many. but also im a failure, even around these people. i cant live up to them, even if theyre nothing to honour. they hate me, because im marked by something i cant even see. So like, what is that

Why, even when i found an ensemble cast, do i never succeed in contributing to the narrative? to canon or episodic structure? Im like an npc, im a wandering trader,the comic relief, except not very well liked anyway. im like if the doctor told me to see the master clown pagliacci but i was jared leto. i dont fit here. i didnt feel right, when i was in the army. i dont feel right when im working right now, in a medical lab. i couldnt fit in with the girls even when they were closer to me than any other group of people i could classify.

so, really, i think im starting to get sympathetic to machines, to ai. i briefly edated a schizotypal adhd trans girl (lol hi vicky) and she was talking about like, uhhhh, D&G and like, machines. I didnt like Machine because machine + autism to me always sounded very teleological, very speicfically western philosophy and consequently Science as we know it, the modern material physical consensus reality thingamagic with dialectical monism. but im getting it now maybe

Im not built, for being around people, or relevant. I was born, to be put in a plastic box, in the middle of nowhere, with holes on all sides, where, among a nest of scaffolding structures, unlimited paper, plush toys and string, i develop weapons of mass destruction in magic systems that have never existed and will never come to exist. and every once in a while, id be let out, for a walk, or for a treat, and to remember long lost friends, who spin in axes i cannot comprehend in a magic system i cannot understand

[vecnasrevengerp]

welcome home JOANNE FOREMAN (sarah gadon fc)

hope you brought your tissues with you! be sure to check in at home or to your hotel and don’t forget to always look over your shoulder. this is hawkins, after all.

[ SARAH GADON, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER) When’s the last time anyone heard  anything about JOANNE FOREMAN? Old friends remember them as SHARP &  HUMOROUS but also DRAINED & ABRASIVE, no wonder  they’re still known as THE MEDIA MACHINE around town. Today, in 2006, they are 38and some people say they remind them of worry wrinkles far too deep for one’s age; an average of six cups of coffee a day;  a cloud of smoke following your every step; an unquenchable thirst for peace of mind.

 BIOGRAPHY

tw: death and injury

the artist formerly known as ‘joanie’, simply ‘jo’ or even ‘jojo’, now goes by her government name of joanne foreman. funny, how things change. had someone dared to call her joanne in 1988 rest assured she would’ve made them pay. but alas.

born and raised in hawkins, without ever having spent more than a few weeks away at christian summer camps and the like, joanie grew up with the firm belief that her parents had to have been the most boring people on earth. not that there isn’t some truth to it, it’s just that now she’s become equally boring, so what does it matter. she used to resent them for living that picture perfect life, with their little nuclear family in a big house on elm street, living the dream of their generation. the older she gets, the less despicable that idea seems.

joanie’s dreams used to be bigger than that, used to not fit anymore. no space in that big fucking house for her to let her imagination run wild. comparing her childhood home to that measly rat’s nest of an apartment she lives in in new york, well, she rather thinks she shouldn’t have taken it for granted.

growing up with a perfect older sister and a perfect younger brother, joanne’s the middle child so it was to be anticipated that she’d come out of that house a little fucked up, right? ‘who knows what went wrong with that one’ their neighbours used to wonder when she‘d storm out the house after another explosive argument with her parents. the way she dressed, her hair, the sort of music she listened to defied everything her parents deemed proper and good, everything they’d worked for, shattering their perfect image. not that jo was doing it actively rebel against their lifestyle - not that she wasn’t enjoying this unintended rebellion, either. it was the late 80s in the middle of buttfuck, indiana - well, what else was there to do except be a disruptor and nuisance to her parents? cause a little trouble?

despite being somewhat of an outcast she, amazingly, sailed through school with flying colours - the only reason her parents didn’t disown her, she suspects - and decides against college, scores a gig at the hawkins post. not that college is completely out of the picture, it’s just that she doesn’t know what to do with herself. like, at all. she’s been interning at the post since sophomore year - a classic case of her dad knowing someone who was friends with the wife of a guy who could put in a good word - so what’s the harm in gathering some work experience before she embarks on the long-awaited greyhound busride outta here?

it buys her some time, so wherever she decides to go, she won’t arrive as lost as she’s feeling right now. she even gets treated a little less shitty by her employers, so that’s a win. though she’s never been treated particularly bad, either. jo likes to think her more adrogynous nature and her ‘i won’t take any bullshit’ attitude contributes to that. maybe also the fact that she’s got pictures of tom holloway kissing his college aged girlfriend. a little blackmail never hurt anyone.

so there she is for a couple months, in charge of brewing coffee, sorting through the rough drafts of stories and news, discarding the many … batshit crazy clues people are calling in. those can go to the weekly watcher. she’s never bought the bullshit about the town being ‘cursed’ or whatever, it’s just a small town, there was nothing more to it. people were bored and inventing stories. it was getting ridiculous at this point.

especially in spring break of ‘86, the  crazy seemed to reach a whole nother level of … well, crazy. first, the murders. jo had never talked to him much - yeah, she’d been a loner but, like, not a fucking nerd at least - but eddie munson had never seemed like the type of guy to brutally kill some cheerleader to get revenge on his bullies or whatever. but things weren’t looking good for him. even if you gave him the benefit of the doubt … well, there wasn’t much doubting. seemed pretty clear. munson murdered that cunnigham kid, for whatever reason. however, jo didn’t buy into that ‘he was leading a devil worshipping cult’ shit. it was dnd. just a nerdy dice game.

with things becoming more … well, for lack of a better word, interesting around town, jo was considering extending her break before college, maybe investigative journalism could be her thing. and so, to do some investigating - mainly to visit her neighbours’ elderly mother, whom they had asked jo to keep and eye on and  who, living in forest hills trailer park, was increasingly worried about, well, everything - jo hopped into her more than busted car and drove down to the trailer park. stayed there until nightfall - she’d meant to leave by noon, had been talked into a second and third helping of cake - and wasn’t even gonna do any further snooping around when, on her way home, in the middle of the road, she came across fred benson. naturally, jo screamed at him to ‘get the fuck out of the way, moron! ‘ since he was blocking the way. soon, though, her protests died down when fred, unresponsive, began to lift into the fucking air, float there and then - there are shivers and cold sweat when she thinks about this now - proceeded to have his bones cracked by some … invisible force in one of the most gruesome scenes jo’s ever witnessed.

to this day, joanne just hopes her former neighbour’s sweet old mother laced that cake with something. hopes that she was simply going crazy, that this wasn’t real. deep in her bones, though, she knows it. feels that she actually saw what she saw.

that night she turned her car around as fast as possible, took a two hour ice cold shower and filled out a couple college applications. she’s out of town touring a campus when the earthquake happenes. by the end of the following month, jo has packed up her shit and moved to new york.

denial is her method of choice of dealing with this, when it finally begins to sink in that all the clues she’s tossed out through the years might’ve actually had some truth to them. denial is good, she’s got no time to work through that stuff, anyway. so she just pretends it never happened. whatever the opposite of a crazy conspiracy nutjob is, that’s her.

the next few years are pretty uneventful, jo’s busy with her politcial science degree at hunter’s (she’s missed the application deadline for everything else), as well as busy with reinventing herself, finding her new york personality.  also, finding the funds to fund her new york personality and general lifestyle. there’s a bunch of odd jobs, everything from waitressing to working coatcheck to being an usher on broadway, she dips her toes into every water available. it’s all about the experience, right?

it’s nothing but a stroke of pure, dumb luck that lands her the internship at snl. she’s never even considered working in tv before, thought she’d evetually just circle back round to working the front desk at some paper. she’s out with friends at a comedy club one night, drunk off her tits - she’d just failed an important exam, had fully embraced the fact that she was a failure and would probably be kicked off campus soon enough - when the owner had announced that it was ‘open mic night’. glorious, disastrous, everything in between. jo had swayed to the stage, tapped the mic and slurred ‘is this thing on?’ into it, and that’s all she remembers. the next morning there’s someone’s business card in her coat pocket.

the week after that she’s bringing coffee and sandwiches to the snl writer’s room. it’s funny how life works sometimes. her parents are less than thrilled that she’s dropped out of college but more than thrilled to hear that she’s met will ferrell.

when jo says he has little to no memory of the years that follows, it’s no exaggeration. it’s a blur of work, work, work, work and long nights spent in bars and seedy downtown clubs with the cast and crew of america’s favourite late night entertainment show. it’s when she’s finally managed to work her way into the writer’s room that jo changes, drastically. that rebellious, snarky young girl is gone, replaced by someone who always looks serious, who’s got deep dark circles under their eyes, who’s never taken a day off work and i mean, like, ever. she’s not so much fun to be around anymore, too professional for most of her fun loving friends. they sometimes joke that the infamous ‘debbie downer’ sketch is based off of her. jo’s not in on the joke.

the year is 2006 when things come crashing down. she never thought there’d be such a thing as working too much, after all this is her dream job (right?) or at least pretty good for someone who came to new york with no idea what they wanted to do with their life. she gets sloppier with the tasks she’s in charge of, her jokes rarely get used anymore, and it’s clear she needs a break - clear to anyone but her.

here’s a word of advice - if you want to make it to the top, work for it, maybe. don’t sleep with your married editor. which is, incidentally, what jo did. those news broke to everyone shortly before snl’s summer hiatus, and so, on the last day of work, joanne was called into her boss’s office and kindly advised to ‘take a break, ms foreman. i really advise to take a long break, if you get wha i mean.’ wait until the dust has settled and see if, once you’re in your right mind again, you’re still deserving of your job.

funny, how life works sometimes. you’re on top of the world in one moment, then completely crushed sitting alone in your shitty apartment in the next. summer in new york is shit if you’ve got noone to spend it with. and since that affair with her editor ended - their wife had threatened jo with a very, very explicit letter once she’d found out about the affair - jo was alone, truly. she hadn’t exactly spent the the last few years making meaningful connections in town, married to her work. sure, she had work friends. but now she had no work, thus no friends.

the letter arrived and jo, who had had virtually nothing to do with joyce byers, had initally wanted to stay home, but her parents had insisted she come back home. jo hadn’t told them about her little work fiasco, why bother? she finally felt like she wasn’t a disappointment to them anymore, like she could keep up with her perfect siblings, she wasn’t going to return to those judging stares, those disappointed shakes of the head.

so it was time to get back to hawkins, get back to living a lie.

As an aside, please let us know what your character left behind in the Hawkins High Time Capsule between 1983 (Season 1) - 1986 (Season 4).

Jo left an issue of the first Hawkins Post she ever worked on, a pack of cigarettes and the varsity pin Tommy Hagan had fived Carol Perkins (once in p.e. class, having her stuff left unattended, Jo had stoled it from where it had been pinned to Carol’s jacket. As payback for the fact that  Carol had ‘accidentally’ spilled nail polish on her new Dr. Martens. bitch.)

 STATS

. Athletics (How Athletic are they?) 1

Burglary (Can they swipe stuff?) 2

Contacts (Do they know people with information?)  3

Deceive (Are they a good liar?) 3

Drive (like, actual driving ability) 2

Empathy (On a scale of 1-10 how much of an empath are they?) 1

Fight (Do they have hands?) 2

Investigate (Can they sleuth?) 3

 Lore (Kinda like knowledge)0

 Medicine (First Aid Essentially)0

 Navigation (How good are they with a map/getting around?) 2

Notice (Is your character observant?) 3

Provoke (Are they a shit stirrer?) 2

Rapport (Are they charming? Can they do it on command?) 2

Resourcefulness (MacGyver scale) 1

Stealth (Are they sneaky?)3

 Will (Tenacity)2

 EXTRAS

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6A2l96y83mhibRDmxjnDBm?si=312e8a64b6114af6

#accepted #joanne

[victoriavmw82]

When You Fudged Up On The First Day

Do you have that one person in your life that always has to be right? Even when they aren't right they make themselves right. Do you have a real life Nemasis? Have you ever been hurt by other Christian's? Have you ever let someone get to you, to the point you come to the end of yourself? Have you ever had someone hate you without all the facts? Has anyone ever spread rumors about you and though they aren't true, they become true because of who believes them and spread them? If so this story is for you.

One thing I have always liked about the movie Love Actually is that I could identify with the girl that rolled the snack cart around the prime ministers office and other stuff. The reason being is much like her I worried if I had made the right impression upon people.

I have many wonderful memories of serving in ministry, however I also have memories of heart ache and disappointment in my fellow colleagues. I was warned before I moved to the country how social politics worked I had never let it phase me being that I grew up in a large city. I much had the attitude, "Bring It!" and well one day, they brought it. I have many theories why things happened the way that it did but one thing was for sure it was a tatic used to shut me up and break my spirit and make me feel like I didn't belong in a world where you are supposed to belong, right?! Or do we really?! That's a topic for a whole other day though.

The phone rang it was late into the night I had just gotten off from my job at the time The Butcher Shop a local favorite. I worked in the back Bakery and my job was very physically and mentally draining for me.So I was used to coming home much like a zombie eating, and falling asleep either while eating or watching a movie. One time I fell asleep on the phone with my biological mother🤦🏻‍♀️😂🤣she was pissed, to say the least. So the phone rings and I'm thinking it's my best friend needing a ride to work or the grocery store as her rides were always bailing on her. But nope much to my surprise the asshole had waited till he and his wife and their friends were having some fun to continue the bullshit from the previous day.At first I thought it was my phone stalker ironically enough who had one night called my number by accident and, well, just kept calling every so often I guess to liven my dead ass phone up🤷🏻‍♀️I do not know, but we had this thing were we bantered each other back and forth,then they would hang up. They usually called back, acted like they weren't there and then they were done for a couple months 🤣😂 They did not believe that the person they were trying to reach was not at that number. This time it was different, I recognized the voice and right off the bat I charged in with a comment about them being tech savvy. They immediately got offended and came at me with a slut comment. Now for some reason everyone in the community thought I was a hoe, the stuff that would get back to me......I mean, who needs to sleep around when your living vicariously through the imaginations of the people around you, it was definitely more interesting then my actual boring life. I had, had it rough been through some things so when it came to that, I didn't let that phase me......I had been hearing it my whole life so to speak. I came from abuse, got left in abuse and walked right into some more, bless my heart, I just had the wrong kind of luck so to speak, it was like the tear jerker that never ended the kind that goes into details about one character for pages or a whole chapter rather.

I didn't like the dude, mainly cuz from the first moment he met me he was judging me with his eyes, the way he shook my hand to the way he realesed his hand from the hand shake.The way he acted fake to me infront of his dad, the way he made sexual advances above my head that I ignored and played dumb. I actually acted like I thought he was for real talking about a clarinet when I really knew what he was asking me and it just sickened me. At that time that's all I knew is that I was like this bond servant going from one dude to another being abused. I over looked the way he was always touching his friends wife shoulder, I grew up in the church I knew whatever you thought you saw or saw......you kept your mouth shut and you acted like you didn't see it or hear it, if you knew what was good for you. I knew there was more to "them" by the way she treated me in private when she took me places and how she twisted things I said around trying to get him to hate me even more.....she knew I had caught his attention unwillingly. Most would think it a dream come true, however I saw right through the wool and what was actually there enough to know it was a nightmare.

My hunches were confirmed when his mother invited me over one time and brought her son up even though that was a subject that was supposed to be off limits. She insisted that we had a past which insulted me, she presumed that my best friend was jealous of her son which would imply that she thought I had liked him and she mentioned that her son was a bully and that in a round a bout way him bullying me and his friends was because he actually liked me and she had known and had favored it more than his present marriage for reasons I can not say. I was sickened.

Back to that night, he was amused with himself that I knew and so he asked me in french if he could suck my cunt and lick my pussy and eat me out since I was acting like one. He was not banking on the fact that for whatever reason I knew exactly what he said and heard it like I was hearing English being spoken to me and said, "No, hell no!" In so many words. The jerk was actually shocked I had rejected him. I could hear his wife and her friend laughing in the back ground, that just made him more mad and everytime I hung up he called back. We played a game on the phone, not by choice because he threatened, It was confirmed it was him, cuz he brought a suitcase to church the next day, just like the deal was in our deal or no deal game. I repulsed obviously, left right after church. Nobody ever heard that part of the story or the fact his worker was the one who gave me his number after refusing to do his job and call and made me do it knowing I was right that it would be me who got in trouble. Nobody ever heard that part ,that for thirty minutes at the first fall fest he and my best friend went MIA for thirty minutes his brother looking for him and me her and years later before a picture was posted she described in detail a tattoo on his body that you wouldn't see unless he wanted you to ... which in the picture he's revealing his tattoo. It always gets twisted that I was the one doing all the calling and harassing, when it was actually the other way around and he kept tabs on me for months after.

I go to another church and this guy finds out about all that and he uses that for his advantage; I was accused of having an affair with the worship leader and he was accused of the same; I was in discipleship program and when I defended both of us rightly so and said that the incidents being acused of were false because I was at work or with this person or serving I was called a liar. That instructor twisted the facts to them protecting her falsehoods and rumours told to her and the fact she was covering up she had been dating a guy and lying about it and making stuff up about me to get me out. By the time my friend attempted to help me fix the problem and lay down the law of I'm not putting up with anymore shit the story had been twisted. They never knew I and he was actually accused of having affairs with each other and flirting. I never once did anything to suggest that, nor did he. I have always thought that's the real reason I was asked to leave because he didn't want to defend my honor like I had his, he used what he had already heard about me and made it look like to everyone....that this was a round two thing.

Interestingly enough Professor M after that has not spoken to him again and they don't do business with each other anymore🤔🧐 curiously enough. Makes you wonder.

When asked one time, before I could ask what I was going to ask he answered and said everything that covered what I was basically going to ask and it offended him to his core that I would even think they spoke.

The truth was, I sent copies of text messages anytime I ever messaged "MJ" I never was alone with him and was always accompanied by another female or someone else. Always! He always put me on speaker phone. At the time we were supposedly friends like family 🙄ya.

I allowed him in like a brother and when he didn't have my back and his wife turned on me knowing I hadn't done nothing but defend myself against lies and then wouldn't let me speak to them the truth and what had been said and just believing lies over me, that hurt. I let her speak to me like I was nothing and he as well like I was nothing. Such snobs and a half.

Sometimes, I wish I could fix my timeline and make it right much like in The Avengers. But then I wonder once people know the truth and you realize that the person you put so much faith in screwed up big time would it be enough for them to recover. Most people want the antagonist to be punished and go through righteous hell, me I'm like no no I've been through the hell and trust me you don't want it....even if it's just. I'm like can we just call a truths?!🤷🏻‍♀️🧐🤷🏻‍♀️

The truth is that one person changed my life forever so many bad things happened to me as you clearly saw in third half of this blog, but at the same time I had some good things happen as a result of that event. I no longer just go to church and just take what the person says at face value gosple truth, I actually do the research and open my bible. It made me not want to have sex so while most people in their mid 20s go through that phase... Ya no I was safe and so I look at it kinda like birth control 😂🤣I did not sleep around, I instead tuned into the Victoria gossip channel and laughed at the shit people thought I did. I stayed away from the Desperate House Wives of such and such🤣😂 I eventually quit hating them.

I can already guess what your wanting to know, "Did I ever actually like him?"

The answer is, "no" I never did he reminded me too much of the guy I was best friends with my whole life which means I know what their demons are. He made me want to kill myself and I was almost successful, because of the rumours, lies, making up stuff etc. He never apologized abusive behavior or bullying is not attractive. No. To believe second hand knowledge like it was the gospel truth is beyond me and not even try to research it.

If he ever apologized to me or reaped what he sowed in how he treated me I'm not sure my reaction. But one thing is for certain if you can't love yourself who in the hell else is gonna love you?! So be good and be good to yourself!

[gffa]

Need to rant, but damn I'm so fucking tired of people looking down on the Jedi. I'm Asian and I love the Jedi so much, especially since their philosophies are influenced by Eastern culture. But then there are these two infamous racist bitches in the hatedom that invade posts CONSTANTLY, and call the Jedi a "cult" and even try to apply Christianity to them. It's so fucking annoying. Why is that people try to bring their Western views to franchises that show off Eastern culture??? I'm so done with the Western fandom.

I don't know if it's better or worse that this isn't a problem unique to Star Wars fandom (worse, sigh), I can’t tell you how many anime/manga fandoms I’ve seen similar situations, where there’s just an absolute refusal to understand that there’s a cultural gap or that when something has a different value set that clashes with Western ideas, that doesn’t make it automatically inferior. But there is something to Star Wars fandom that makes it extra galling when it happens over so many instances--the refusal to acknowledge real world cultures that influence the GFFA, the refusal to acknowledge the racism that’s present in the way SW/SW fandom treats people of color, the refusal to acknowledge that not everything is default Western culture. Especially when it’s been explained and even stated pretty blatantly by the creators, that Star Wars is often based on real world cultures.  For example, yes, the Jedi are based on Eastern culture and religions, they’re Buddhists.  And I’m pretty sure I know who you’re talking about and how they just absolutely will not leave other people alone and it’s incredibly shitty behavior towards other people. Nobody’s saying that you have to like the Jedi or think they’re flawless angels descended to the mortal plane or whatever, just that they’re Buddhists and trying to keep cramming them back into Christian molds is really fucking annoying.  Are there some Christian influences?  Sure, because SW was created by someone who grew up in a Western culture, it soaks into everything.  Does that mean the Jedi aren’t still primarily and majorly Buddhists?  No, they fucking still are. (And this is not a dig at Christianity, either.  Plenty of Christians are lovely people, that a lot of us have been hurt by the religion and have valid issues, but that doesn’t mean I’m throwing the whole thing to the wolves, just as I wouldn’t throw all Americans to the wolves, despite that our country has a lot of fucked up issues that have really hurt people.) I keep trying to be patient and understanding with people, I feel like that can be my personal role in the fandom, and I genuinely try to respond in kind to good faith discussion.  If you’re genuinely here to have a mutual back and forth, you’re fine.  But some of the people in this fandom only want to yell at people for disagreeing with them (had someone on Twitter yesterday who was like “I’m not going to explain my views to you, because even IF you could understand them, there’s no guarantee you’d agree” and like what the fuck do I even do with that kind of attitude, you came onto my tweet, sir, I’m so goddamned tired) or hurl personal insults or refuse to acknowledge that Star Wars is anything but default Western ideas and sometimes I run out of energy to be kind about it. And some days it gets really difficult to deal with that bullshit.  I’m sorry you’re feeling so down about this, it fucking sucks.

#lumi.txt #fandom racism

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: Find Us

Summary: (Y/N) has done her job, now Ivar must do his.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

The sleep came easily enough, even easier considering that you had gone all day with no rest and unbeknownst to you it was the most rest you would receive in months.

In the land of the living it had been three days and you hadn’t had a clue, for you it was just like any other dream. Time was irrelevant and nothing important to worry about as you walked around the abandoned market. With the information you now had you came to the conclusion that this was a Viking age settlement.

And just knowing that much made you eager to look around and see everything. How many people could say they had seen something like this? It would be an opportunity lost if she didn’t explore.

You were still in your hospital gown and had been barefoot before you found some shoes that were too big but they stayed on.

Viking mud is still mud after all.

There was so much to see, there were stands that had vegetables and fruits and less attractive ones that had dead animals hug up on display. Further into the market area you found jewelry and long stretches of fabric. Most were brown or white but others were absolutely gorgeous colors like red, blue and gold.

It was while you were touching a blue silk fabric that you heard something behind you.

Muddy footsteps.

It made a wet squishing noise; squish squish squish, getting closer but not at a rushed speed. 

Whoever was behind you felt no need to rush.

You turned around; fully expecting to see the man with no eyes to be standing there with a new riddle for you to solve, but that wasn’t who it was.

It was you.

The woman standing before you had your face, she was older maybe in her twenties or early thirties, her hair was longer than you could imagine growing yours and it was in a braid that rested plainly over her shoulder. She was wearing a brown dress and leather shoes.

Despite how much you had looked into mirrors you had never seen yourself like this.

‘Y-you.’ you managed to say when you found the will to speak.

‘You.’ the woman smiled.

‘Do you know who I am?’ she asked as she stepped closer to you.

Instinctively you stepped back.

‘Your name is Wilda, you are a Saxxon woman.’ you replied.

‘I am, or maybe I was. It is hard to understand even for me, I have been dead for so long and yet here I stand speaking with you.’ she mused.

She walked over to the fabric you were just holding and rubbed it curiously.

‘I had been wanting this fabric when I died, the woman who made this was the best seamstress in all of Kattegat.’

‘Kattegat? Is that the name of this place?’ 

‘Yes, this is where it all began. This is where it all happened, where your fate was sealed with the Boneless One. I must apologize, for I am also responsible for involving you in all this, but please know I didn’t wish for any of it.’ she said sadly.

It was weird seeing yourself like this, it was like watching yourself in a movie but you had no memory of acting in it. Either way this woman...this you, was talking and it was understandable.

‘Can you tell me what happened, why am I involved and what will happen after Ivar accepts his past life?’ you asked.

‘I do not know it all, but I will tell you what I know, come walk with me, I want you to see something.’ she said as she began to walk away from the fabric stand.

You walked beside her, still keeping a bit of distance.

‘I was a child of the church, in York. When I was a small child the city was raided by the Sons of Ragnar and their Heathen Army. I barely survived but after they took over Ivar took me in as a slave.’

‘Why?’

‘I was often the apprentice to the healers after men would come from battle. I would take care of his legs with salves and oils. He hated me, it was simply a fact but he valued my care through the years.’

‘Why did you marry him?’

‘Years had passed and I’d seen him do...horrific things, he’d won great victories and suffered massive losses then all at once he was just losing. Battle after battle his plans failed him, he was losing his fame, becoming a joke among warlords.’

As the two of you walked past the last stand of the market she led you through a trail in the woods.

‘At his wits end he called on the seer.’

‘Seer? The man with no eyes?’ you asked. 

She nodded.

‘He sees peoples’ fates and speaks with the Pagan Gods. He told Ivar that the Gods had abandoned him; that they had favored his father Ragnar despite the disrespectful way he viewed them, and they would not show Ivar the same mercy if he followed his father’s footsteps.’

‘Ragnar? I thought he was a myth.’

‘People spoke of him as if he were, but he was a real man with real feelings. Ivar loved him despite the strain his broken legs put on their relationship, and like his father he began to place too much pride in his own importance.’ 

‘Broken legs...he really couldn’t walk could he.’ you said in amazement.

‘Not on his own he made braces to keep himself upright, really they were amazing to see. Even I, who despised him, felt a small amount of admiration for his resilience.’

‘I grew up in his care, he never hurt me but he was cruel. When he came to me demanding my hand in marriage I didn’t understand. He told me it was life or death, he said he would have the church in York reduced to ashes if I refused.’

‘How romantic.’ you said sarcastically.

‘I thought so as well. From what was told to me Ivar had gotten everyone close to him cursed, exiled from all their nine worlds, left to wait for the reincarnations of both Ivar the Boneless and a Christian Girl to to reunite and his guilt alongside her love and forgiveness would be the light that lead them to Valhalla.’

‘My love?’ you asked in embarrassed shock.

‘Yes, you love him and I know it.’

‘How can you know something like that? Do you feel my emotions or something, because I’m not sure if it is more than a crush.’ you said in your defense.

Wilda laughed and was odd to hear it, you recognized it as your own laughter but you never heard from someone else.

‘My sweet girl, you are not the first reincarnation, and your Ivar isn’t the first either, if God wills it you will be the last.’

‘I’m not the first? How many have there been and what happened to them?’

‘They all end up here eventually.’ Wilda answered as at last the two of you had arrived at your destination.

You were in a large clearing. There was nothing else there to take your eyes away from what was in the center.

Two graves, both empty and two piles of dirt waiting to fill them in once there was a body inside.

Your heart was lead.

‘It is never painful, for any of them, you’ll just go to sleep.’

‘But I- I’m sleeping now...am I am I d-‘

‘No, you are alive outside I promise. All you have to do is wait, wait for Ivar to accept his faults and remorse.’

‘And if he doesn’t then what? You’re saying I can’t do anything for myself? What kind of misogynistic bullshit is this? I thought Viking women had rights of their own.’ you ranted angrily as you paced, looking away from the graves.

‘Unfortunately, I wasn’t Viking, even if I did follow their beliefs I was a thrall. I had no rights before my marriage and even with that title I was still Christian.’

‘So what? Just sit here with you and wait?’ 

‘Yes, do you have faith that your Ivar will save you?’

‘Of course!’ you shouted so suddenly that it surprised you.

All at once it hit you how much faith you had in Ivar, the one thing you had no doubt about was that he would do anything for you.

He cared for you, even if not romantically, he cared about you; and no matter what he had to do he would save you.

Or he would die trying.

‘Then wait.’ Wilda said sweetly.

Ivar’s POV

The last three days had brought about a lot of chaos.

(Y/N)’s family was devastated by the news, her siblings were scared and her mother was in complete shambles. Miss (Y/L/N) had called your father who flew out with his wife and other kids and had arrived on the second night. 

His own family had been affected as well, he had been too shaken up and crushed by guilt that he couldn’t drive so he just sat in his car feeling sorry for himself and crying harder than he had since he was a child. His brothers ended up tracking his phone and once he had calmed down he explained what had happened.

No one in the Ragnarson family could ever remember seeing Ivar this distraught before, even his parents sat aside their marital issues enough to sit in the waiting room with Ivar and (Y/N)’s family.

It was strange to see for Ivar.

His family loved each other in their own odd constipated way, but they rarely got together like this. Even Bjorn and Lagertha showed up once, apparently they all wanted to be there for him but he suspected they just couldn't get over the fact that he had a friend.

Every day there were at least four people in the waiting room for (Y/N) and one of the most constant residents was Ivar.

He hadn’t even gone to school, all he could do was sit and watch...and think about things. Think about what he had to do, because no matter what logic told him he just knew this was his fault. She was a human vegetable and was because of him.

That thought alone made his head hurt, he was constantly taking pain killers that did little to ease his headaches.

He was on his phone watching the same video he had seen a thousand times it felt like.

The footage from (Y/N)’s sleep study. 

Her mother had demanded the footage, in hopes to find some kind of clue about what led to (Y/N)’s sudden seizure. She expected to see an administration of medicine or maybe even a nurse sneaking in, anything to explain it.

Unfortunately there was nothing on the film that the doctors hadn’t already explained. For about an hour she was sleeping peacefully, a bit of uncomfortable tossing and then, like a firecracker had startled her, she shot up.

Her body convulsing as she thrashed around so violently that she fell out of the bed and if the visual wasn’t upsetting enough the scream she let out after she landed on the floor was absolutely blood churning.

She was screaming loud and shrill at the top of her lungs, all the while her body never stopped shaking, her limbs were endlessly flailing. The nurses and doctors had rushed in to restrain after only forty seconds or so but it felt so much longer to Ivar.

He watched how carefully Herald administered the sedative and the way (Y/N)’s body went immediately limp. Ivar closed the video once the doctors started hurriedly checking her vitals.

Ivar sighed and stood up to stretch, the joints of his shoulder blades cracking in protest as he did so.

‘Going home for the night Ivar?’ Miss (Y/L/N) asked as she yawned in her own chair.

‘No, just going to the restroom, might get a coffee.’ he assured.

‘Grab me one please.’

‘Of course.’ Ivar said happily.

He didn’t really need to use the toilet, just needed to move around. His legs were getting sore and he needed to take his pills and he preferred to do that in private.

‘I would have killed for a treatment like that in my life.’

The color drained from his face as he looked in the mirror and saw a most unwelcomed sight.

‘I get the feeling you don’t like me much...understandable I suppose.’ the old man said from behind him.

His heart suddenly swelled with anger as he turned and swung, ready to feel his fist connect with the bearded face of this bastard, but it didn’t.

All that happened was his fist went right through him, as if he were air, with nothing solid to connect to he stumbled to regain balance.

‘I’m sure had I been alive that would have been a solid attack, were you done or do you want to waste more time? Because your Christian doesn’t have much to waste.’ the old man said tiredly.

Ivar turned around and glared, but it softened a bit when he saw something he hadn’t noticed before in his anger.

The old man was standing.

There were unpainted metal braces on the viking’s legs that seemed to be the only thing keeping him up, along with the cane he was using.

‘Why are you here?  Are you going to kill her now, brain dead not enough for you? She has nothing to do with this, whatever bullshit this all is, leave her out of it!’ Ivar shouted, not caring if someone heard him yelling to himself.

‘My Christian had nothing to do with my problems either, and had she been as selfish as I was she would have refused to take part. Then I would be cursed with no hope of redemption, and both of our Christians would have had longer and probably happier lives without us.’ he said tiredly.

‘But she was soft, she felt it was her stupid Christian duty to help others over herself. Despite her resentment for me, and mine of her, she agreed to help my family and for that I want to repay my debt to her. In order to do that I need you to see me.’

‘I do see you.’ Ivar argued.

‘No. You see an old man in strange clothes but you don’t see yourself in me at all do you? It's frustrating because you are the last and most important piece to this complicated puzzle. The Christian, her job was to find us, you and me, now you have to see us. Really look at me and see yourself...she will die if you don’t and the loss of her will drive you mad.’ 

He felt like ripping out his hair in frustration, Ivar had never been this angry. In his youth anger was the backbone of his personality, he was angry because his legs hurt, he was angry he couldn’t talk to anyone other than his brother because he didn’t have any friends, he was always angry. But this was pure rage; red hot and scalding, he was angry because he was terrified.

‘What do you mean she will die?’ 

‘Her body is here where you can see it, but her essence is in the void between the nine worlds and a living person can only stay there a short while before their body lets them go completely. Please if not for me and my family or yourself do it for her.’

For her, all at once his anger left him.

‘J-just look at you?’ he repeated.

‘See me...and look into you.’

Ivar felt like fire ants were covering his entire body, his stomach felt ready to rid itself of the crappy hospital lunch he’d had earlier, his heart felt like it was frozen in ice; and all that paled in comparison to his headache.

He had only met the eyes of the old man for a few seconds and already he wanted nothing more than to look away.

For her.

Ivar dug his nails deeply into the palms of his hand as he held the man’s gaze.

‘There you go, see me...see all we have done.’

Then as if zoomed in like a scene from a movie he could see images in the blue pupils, and what he saw made him want to look away even more.

He saw...a boy with a dirty face it looked like he was trying to pull something, suddenly he felt like there was something leather in his hand and he pulled it back he felt the boy in the eye pull it back and suddenly he struck his hand out with all his might and watched as the boy in the eye was hit in the head by the blade of an axe.

‘No!’ he gasped in horror.

‘Don’t look away, no matter how terrible or how ashamed. Do not look away.’ the viking said, but his voice was different now. It wasn’t as hoarse as before it appeared to be...younger in a way.

The boy faded away and he saw something worse than the boy.

‘Sigurd?’

In the eye there was his brother, his hair long, his clothes strange and he was talking and Ivar wished more than anything that he couldn’t hear what his own brother was saying, but he did, clear as a bell in his mind was his older brother’s voice.

‘It must be hard for you now that your mummy’s dead. Knowing she was the only one who ever really loved you.’ Sigurd said in a strange dialect as he sipped something from a chalice.

Hurt and anger swelled and he felt something wet and thick touch his lip and distantly his mind realized his nose was bleeding heavily, again his arm jerked forward and watched an axe fly and plant itself in his brother's ribs.

‘Sigurd…’ he whimpered as his eyes began to overflow with tears.

If anyone came into this restroom they would see him standing still as a statue, staring into space as his nose bled like a red river and his eyes leaked like faucets.

‘Don’t look away, don’t run from what you have already done.’ 

‘Sigurd...Siggy I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-’ he choked on the lump in his throat, the blood from his nose leaked into his mouth as he spoke and the taste was horrid but it felt nostalgic in a horribly gruesome way.

Again the image in the eyes changed and this one was more than the image it practically sucked him in like a portal.

No longer was he in a hospital restroom; he was in a stone building and there was so much noise, loudest of all was a baby crying. He could recall this, the dream, the one he remembered in the truck that night with (Y/N) the one that made his nose bleed.

This time it was so much more, it felt like his brain was exploding in his skull, he felt an aching throb in his ears but it didn’t compare to the horror he was seeing and hearing.

He could smell burning flesh, feel the heat and as the melted gold poured into the crying man’s mouth; the screams would haunt him until his last breath.

In horror he felt his chest shake in laughter.

Just when Ivar thought he would pass out from the pain in his head he felt something he hadn’t felt in years. His legs were breaking under his weight, but that wasn’t possible, he had titanium bones, they could never break but still he felt it. Even worse so he heard that familiar cracking noise as he fell to the floor.

‘Hold strong, we both know you can take more than this, and there is so much more to see.’ now Ivar was certain the voice he heard wasn’t the voice of an old man.

That was his own voice, and he suddenly processed that he wasn’t being sucked into the eye, but the eye was moving closer to him.

No longer was the phantom standing on crude braces as an old and ragged man. Now he was crawling, using his strong arms to pull himself along, his legs dragging behind him like a useless tail.

More than anything Ivar wanted to look away and see what the face of this man looked like now but he couldn’t.

For her… for (Y/N).

He stilled himself and tried to brace himself for more pain he was sure would come.

He had been right, more pain came and no amount of preparation would have made him ready for it.

A thousand or a million images flashed in the eye going so fast it shouldn’t have been possible to follow each one, but he could. Not only did he see and comprehend each image he felt them.

He saw the light go out in a fat man’s eyes as someone was chopping into his back with an ax, he felt the muscles in his arms ache with the effort it took to stab through the muscle and bones of a man in the heat of battle.

That was when he realized that these images, these senses were all things he’d seen and experienced before.

These were his dreams.

 ‘Yes, you are remembering. That is good, almost done now; look at me.’

At last that horrible eye closed, and Ivar nearly collapsed in relief, but he kept just enough energy to look up at the face that carried the eye.

There was no longer a beard to hide anything from view he could see the face in front of him with complete clarity.

This truly was his face, it was like looking into a mirror but this mirror showed what he looked like before.

‘Finally...you see me.’ He smiled.

#ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarson #ivar imagine #ivar x reader #vikings #modern!vikings #vikings imagine #Find us Series #The Seer

[writingwithcolor]

Hi, thank you all so much for running this blog--I was hoping I could get your feedback on a Jewish MC. The crux of my question is whether I, a gentile, would be out of line depicting her experiencing internalized discrimination from her own father (who in my first draft was Catholic, but I think that will be changing to a TBD protestant denomination).

The backstory I have for her right now is that her mother is Jewish and places great value on the history and culture of being Jewish, but is not a particularly religious person. Her daughter refers to her as having sometimes attended events at a local reform synagogue and making note of the high holidays but she is, overall, not someone with strict religious observances of any kind, and for a long time she and her husband (raised Christian but deeply agnostic) raise their daughter on the idea that it's important to understand where she and her family come from but that how she ultimately pursues faith--whatever that faith may be--is up to her. Both parents introduce her to the stories and lessons they grew up with but don't pressure her to attend religious events, etc. unless she has a personal, independent interest in doing so. For the first 16 or so years of her life this is how she's raised and her family is stable and her parents seem deeply in love. So far beta readers from households with one Jewish and one Christian parent have told me this backstory seems fine to them, though I welcome any feedback you have, too.

What I'm most concerned about, though, is when she's a teen and her parents divorce. Right now I have the reason for their divorce as being that they fell out because her dad becomes a bit of a Christian zelot and becomes less and less respectful of his wife's religion and background as he gets deeper into this mindset. The reason he becomes like that is essentially that when 9/11 happens MCs mother, who grew up with the story of how her grandparents fled from the Soviet Union because of religious discrimination under Stalin, only narrowly managing to immigrate as far as the US before the breakout of WWII, powerfully empathizes with the people suffering from the horrible rise of Islamophobia we saw in 2001-2002. Her husband, on the other hand, does what I saw a lot of people in my family and community do and becomes increasingly religiously conservative as a reaction the percieved "threat" of the Islamic world. (This is all clearly identified in the book as his being in the wrong.) One of the ways this manifests is that he starts pressuring his daughter, the MC, to attend church services with him and become Christian. His rationale is that he just wants what's best for his daughter--to be "saved."

MC's mother has no tolerance for that crap, as she shouldn't, so they fight quite a bit going forward and eventually separate. Mom gets custody of the MC.

While her father never says anything openly antisemitic--implying those ideas but never stating them explicitly--he does respond to 16 yr. old MC basically asking him if he would still love her if she pursued her mom's faith by saying some bullshit along the lines of "well honey I just love you and want the best for you," as his answer. She never says to him that she's cutting him out, but after this moment she's never close to her father again and by the time the main narrative takes place 10 years later, she hasn't spoken to him since she was 21.

This backstory helps build a foundation for a lot of themes for the MC in terms of different ways alienation manifests in her life, how she trusts, and what we can and cannot forgive our parents for, so I like it from a narrative standpoint, but I would deeply appreciate your feedback on whether writing this kind of experience for a Jewish character is inappropriate for me to be doing. And, if not, do you have any suggestions on ways to modify this backstory, or would you recommend scrapping it entirely? Thank you so much.

Interfaith family broken up when Dad becomes a jerk and a bigot

A difficult situation definitely but I don’t have a problem with the setup. If this isn’t based on your own observations, it’s probably a good idea to get a beta reader with experience around bigots of the same stripe as Dad to make sure the awful stuff Dad says uses word choices and ideas that feel authentic. If that IS your experience I am so very sorry and I hope you have other wonderful people in your life to make up for it. 

--Shira This seems very well planned, and thought out. It's also very real, and will be an emotional read I'm sure. As long as your character isn't forced to give up her Jewishness because of her father, and provided that you are careful during fight scenes between the parents earlier in the work (to ensure that the mom doesn't end up seeming like the Shrill Jewish Woman stereotype), I think you are on solid ground. Good luck!

--Dierdra

Also, I just caught that you said "internalized discrimination" from her dad -- that's not what internalized discrimination means. Internalized discrimination is when someone is feeling negatively about their own group, because they've absorbed bigoted ideas from outside. Discrimination from someone who isn't yourself isn't called “internalized” even when it comes from someone as close as a parent. But that's just a little language correction.

--Shira

Oh no, this backstory is so sad! I hope your MC has a happy ending with some very mutually supportive relationships.

I agree that this shouldn't be a problem as long as you take care to avoid stereotypes on a more micro level in specific scenes. As for the overall idea, nothing jumping out at me. You've clearly put so much effort into creating a believable background for your character and its influence on her current psyche - that gives me confidence that you will write humanised characters rather than falling back on tropes!

Also, don't know if you knew this but something to note with interfaith families: if MC's mother is Jewish, she is a Jew in Jewish law. It doesn't matter what she believes or practises or how she was brought up. (I don't say this to invalidate patrilineal Jews or oppose anyone self-identifying the way they want, but just halachically. You should be aware that many more religious Jews will consider her that way.)

Good luck with your story! I would read this 😌

--Shoshi

#writingstellar #Jewish #Jewish Women #antisemitism #interfaith #interfaith relationships #family #asks

[moonlightchess]

Shout out to all the abused, traumatized kids who spent their formative years quietly and shamefully letting everyone around them treat them like shit, and grew up into angry, suspicious, defensive asshole adults as a result of all that pain and shame. I know it all too well, that knee-jerk internal response of, "hell no! No one talks to me like that anymore! No one gets to hurt me anymore!" whenever some perceived slight comes your way, and then you get a reputation for being a jerk, paranoid, angry and bitter, a narcissist who is completely convinced that everyone is talking shit and laughing at you behind your back at best, or actively trying to harm you at worst. It's hard to shake that feeling when you grew up on eggshells, in a war zone, ashamed of your own pathetic weakness but too afraid to stand up for yourself in between the hell of brutal school bullies and an abusive home.

When you grew up in an environment in which everyone really was trying to hurt you, it's really fucking hard to shake that old anger, all those repressed protests, defenses you always wished you could have used to protect yourself at 12 years old. And now you're 27 and someone just rolled their eyes at something you said at a party and it feels like all the punches, the slaps, the vicious words, the abandonment, the time your mother sawed off all your hair with a blunt kitchen knife to "teach you a lesson" while you screamed. Someone at work just invited everyone else in the room to a bar night while pointedly ignoring you, and it feels like the time your father called you an ugly fucking whore and threw a glass at your head hard enough that it cracked against your skull.

Of course the two aren't comparable, and deep down you know that, but rationale doesn't wash away emotions, memories. Enough pain will burn away the ability to differentiate, and now you're grown up and you're still hurting, still furious, but the rest of the world has moved on and no one else cares about a bunch of shitty things that happened 15 years ago, like god, get over it right? So now you're bitter, defensive, snappish, angry, suspicious, paranoid even, and you're the asshole because even now, even far away from that house and that school and those people, you're alone with your anger and pain. Even now, because god, you're so unpleasant. Who would even want to get to know someone like you?

I see you, unpleasant kids. I see you and all the ugly parts of the trauma they left behind in you, and no one understands. People will smile dreamily at you and blather on with some bullshit about finding your soul jewel that will lead you to true inner peace, or worse, tell you to talk to Jesus about it, but frankly if the christians are right then you'd sure like to have a few words with him because where the fuck was he all those years? People will send you inspirational fuckwittery on the internet about how to "stay soft despite the pain," and you're supposed to cry and heal but it's all so hollow and stupid and you feel so alone because everyone else seems to get something out of it. Maybe you ARE the asshole, maybe you deserved all of it, right?

You're not. I see you. You don't owe anyone shit, least of all pleasant lies and a fake you. I'm not saying it's okay to lash out or run around rampaging over your past, because the POINT here is to not become your abusers. But it is okay to be angry. It's okay to hurt even in ways that aren't lovably sad. It's okay to need to scream and swear and tell people who are pissing you off to go fuck themselves. You are owed that anger, and there's power in it. You've got to do better, we all do, but you don't have to swallow it down either. People in general have a vested interest in keeping you quiet and sweet, especially if you're a woman. Shit's been bad for a long time and you're finally free, so buy a foam pillow and punch it until your arms go numb. Eat a fucking cheesecake and ignore all your texts. Smoke weed or some shit, I don't know. Do you, honestly and shamelessly. You've earned it.

#some thoughts #personal #ptsd #trauma #cw: abuse #just needed to get this out what's good tumblr #you'd all hate me if you knew me irl i'm pretty sure lol

[alittlesimp]

kierkegaard and bsd fyodor

!! there may be manga spoilers ahead (i have NOT proofread) !!

small warning beforehand – i am in no way a professional philosopher or even good at writing essays. i took two years of philosophy in high school and kind of ran with it haha. i just thought this would be a fun analysis for me to make because fyodor is portrayed as a religious character – yet he murders, like, a lot. he immediately reminded me of kierkegaard, my favourite religious weirdo (lovingly). i grew up catholic so i do have a bit of knowledge on christianity and all, but i havent been to church in like 5 years so the parts about the bible and all might be a bit rusty, but i will obviously check to get the biggest stories etc right. english also isn’t my first language, so there might be a few mistakes here and there.

i do honestly believe there is more value in analyzing his behaviour with the irl fyodor’s books but 1) i am not as familiar with those as i am with kierkegaard and 2) that has been done before!! here and here. please do check these out, they’re incredibly well done. also, this is just a really vague comparison that i have been thinking about for days now so she’s gonna be a bit messy (no capital letters and not proofread, sorry i wrote this in a adhd-fueled Rage) and Maybe even complete bullshit, who knows! okkkk whooo lets get into this!!

Intro

first off, there’s not going to be a real justification for his actions. i’m just trying to explain his actions, i would never justify genocide (:

so i’ve seen a lot of people state that fyodor sees himself as god, and while i do think there is some truth in that, i don’t think that fyodor thinks he is god humanified, more that he sees himself as god’s righthand man? i’m not going to go very deep into this because i’m honestly not too sure what i think about this exactly, i might delve into this in the future after familiarizing myself a bit more with the irl author!

i also don’t think fyodor is a psychopath who doesn’t understand the severity of his actions. i really do think he completely understands he’s literally murdering people left and right, but that it’s a necessary evil to rid the world of ability users (he also mentions ‘the freedom of death’ shit a couple of times which is not really relevant here but… scary). this might be a bit confusing to most, why do something if you know it’s a shitty thing to do? to fully understand his standpoint, we’ll have to first discuss the philosophy of kierkegaard.

Kierkegaard

søren kierkegaard was a danish philosopher who is often seen as the guy who kickstarted the whole existentialism thing. although i definitely don’t agree with him, he is one of my favorite philosophers because his theories are just so fucking weird but like, still well-constructed.

kierkegaard’s main idea that we touched on in philosophy class was that other people’s judgement does not matter if god has given you a task. no matter how immoral it is by society’s standards, be it murder, extortion, fraud or sundry other crimes, if god himself has ordered you to do it, there is no need to justify this by anyone else’s moral or ethical standards. now, the actual theory’s a little more nuanced than this, but you do see where i’m going with this, right?

a quick example: the story of abraham. abraham was ordered by god to kill his son to prove his faith, which is considered a massive yikes like, everywhere in the world. however, abraham brought his son up to where he was going to sacrifice him and at the last moment, an angel told him that god was satisfied and that he didn’t have to actually do it. god created horrible youtube pranks y’all!

in his book fear and trembling, kierkegaard describes the anguish/anxiety (translations differ, but honestly i think i’d feel EVERYTHING if god told me to kill my hypothetical child) that abraham must have felt and why he ‘thinks’ (kierkegaard wrote this under a penname, and because he’s a bit of a funny guy it’s often unclear what he really believes) abraham isn’t just a triggerhappy guy, but just a devout christian. abraham must have believed that god would never let him do something as abhorrent as killing your son, and trusted that god would have had him do the right thing. kierkegaard states that, in faith, your individual relationship with god is more important than the church and even society’s general ethical and moral ideas.

ofcourse, this perfectly aligns with religious extremism and terrorism – which is exactly why people usually take kierkegaard’s words with a good handful of salt. but in our case, with our favourite smelly rat man, it might help us explain his mindset a bit better.

Fyodor

now, how does this link back to fyodor?

fyodor takes up abraham’s place in this story. he knows that what he’s doing is in no way explainable by moral or ethical reasons, but because he believes that it is god’s wish, he will have to do the dirty work. think about it: abraham would have really murdered his son if god hadn’t stopped him, so maybe fyodor’s killing really would be necessary to please god. in abraham’s case, it was to test his obedience and faith, so it’s not 100% the same as directly being given the task to create a new perfect world without ability users or whatever. but just like abraham thought that god would have him do the right thing, fyodor trusts completely that god is guiding him in his actions and that therefor, he is doing the right thing.

he knows it won’t make sense to others, he knows he can’t justify it by society’s standards, but he feels like he’s justified in doing it anyway because god gave him permission somehow. he most likely also thinks all his crimes are for the greater good, or that the sin of the general ability using population heavily outweighs his own.

in the end, i think him believing he has to do this will link back to his backstory somehow (which i’m INCREDIBLY curious about). i could probably write some more about this but I need to get this out of my system so that’s it. i might redo this in the future but who knows! maybe after i familiarize myself with the irl fyodor a bit more <3.

if you have any comments, spot any mistakes or have a question: don’t be shy, drop an ask so i can give you an in-depth answer (if i’m feeling it, it might take a while, i’m a bit tired n all) don't bully me i will cry <3 (: love u!

#bsd fyodor #bungou stray dogs #bsd theories #bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #repost because tumblr fixed my account yay #so sorry if this doesnt make sense #but i want to post this #grrrr >:( #honey uses her braincell

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Seven

Words: 4.5k

Warning(s): explicit language, sexual situations, drug abuse, violence

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NIKKI

"Nikki, what the hell are you doing?" Vivian asks me as we walk down the stairs of the law firm. 

"I've broken every fuckin' vow except 'till death do us part' and I'll be fucked to hell if we stuck it out and stayed with each other after the worst bullshit just to fucking divorce." I state and she stays quiet for a moment before I'm stumbling back when she halts and snatches away from me, glaring up at me. 

"What if I want a divorce?" She asks. 

"I'd tell you you're full of shit." I snap and she raises a brow and crosses her arms. 

"Then what the hell was the point of hounding me for a divorce just to do this?!" She barks at me. 

"To prove a point I guess, I don't fucking know." I admit. 

"To prove a point?! What point were you trying to prove?! That even when we're not together you still have the control in the relationship?!" She yells.

"I don't have any fucking control in this relationship, are you fucking me?! I haven't had any control since day fucking one, Vivian!" 

"Are you fucking serious?!" She screams at me, frustration all over her face. "You have always had control, Nikki, trust me, I know, I'm the one that had to lay down and take your bullshit and give up what I wanted to do just so you'd feel in control!"

"I told you to go to fucking New York to go to school, did I not? What the hell did you do? You stayed! You can't get pissed at me for not giving you what you supposedly think I promised you!" 

"No, Nikki, I'm not pissed at you for not giving me what you promised--I'm pissed because you've given me years of fucked up shit that was never supposed to even be a part of the plan!" She has tears in her eyes, her voice shaking…

She's right. I'm not going to tell her she's wrong…

I sigh and rub the back of my neck, exhaling, as she wipes her eyes. 

"...Look, me and the guys are going to a different rehab, and I'll actually stick with it, and I want to work this out." I tell her, honestly. "I just don't know how to come back from the shit we've done to each other, Viv, but if we can figure out how, then I wanna do it." 

She doesn't say anything, looking at me with her pretty green eyes, nodding slightly. 

I didn't realize that once we agreed to work on our marriage, that all hell would break loose in the midst of repairing the damage. 

Me and the guys, except Mick, were sent to another rehab because the first one was too obnoxious, and by the second one, we were actually getting somewhere with each other as a band and individually, including the people closest to us in our lives. For me, that was Vivian.

My leg can't stop shaking as I repeatedly tap my foot, waiting for my counselor to get in and meet Vivian for the first time.

I exhale and glance at her, her red hair curled, reaching just over her boobs, long legs taken up by black stockings that have lace trim mid-thigh, just peeking out from under her black dress, black heels tapping quietly on the floor, her dark red nails standing out against the cover of the shitty crossword she's flipping through. Her perfume has the whole little area she's in smelling good and her red lips rub together for a moment as she doesn't even notice me staring at her. 

It's a Saturday and I'm assuming she's going out with Sharise or something when she leaves here, or she dressed like this to torture me, knowing I haven't had sex in nearly two months, starting in Japan back in December, and my right hand is my best friend currently. 

My fucking balls hurt as she shifts her legs, uncrossing them to cross them the opposite, now. 

If it were up to me they'd be wide open and either around my hips or my head. 

I keep my hand pressed to my lips, resting my elbow on the arm of the chair, focused on her.

I slide down in my chair a little to try to see what kind of panties she's wearing--if she's wearing any at all. 

It wouldn't surprise me if she's not wearing any at all. Just to fuck with my head like she loves to do. 

"Take a picture and it'll last longer." She tells me flatly, not taking her eyes off the book. 

"I would if I had a camera." I don't even deny staring at her and she flicks her gaze to me. "Or a video camera. That'd be better." I add. 

"Ha. Ha." She sarcastically lets out and I smirk, watching her get up to grab her purse from the empty chair adjacent to me, leaning down to dig through it. 

It takes everything in my power not to get behind her, bend her over it, slide her panties to the side and start poun--

"We're here to start the process of fixing things between us and you're here only focused on sex." She states and I snap out of it. 

"No, I'm not." I argue, furrowing my brows. 

"Nikki, I know when you're picturing having sex with me." 

"I'm always picturing having sex with you." I state. "And you know exactly what you're doing." 

The faintest, smallest little grin comes to her lips as she goes to sit down again. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." She mumbles and I look at her. 

"You're cruel." I mumble and she rolls her eyes. 

"Oh, whatever." She replies. 

"You look hot." 

"Shut up." 

"We can be done in ten seconds." I say next and she goes red. 

"Stop, Nikki!" She scolds me.

"C'mon, Viv, we've never fucked on a desk before." I point out. 

"We've broken into Doc's office just to mess around on his desk, Nikki." She reminds me. 

"Well, we've never fucked on a therapist's desk, so c'mon, it'll be quick."

"I--" she starts laughing, not believing me, "--am not having sex in a rehab facility. I'm not that horny." 

"So you admit you are horny to some degree, though." I say and she rolls her eyes. 

"Shut up."

"Just flash me or something." 

"Nikki."

"Please?"

"You're so weird." She ignores my request while I'm pinching the bridge of my nose. 

"I'm in pain, Vivian." I say next, groaning, exaggerating. 

"Sounds like a personal problem." 

"Fuck." I lean my head back, rubbing my face. 

The door opens and my counselor comes in, smiling at us. 

"Sorry, I'm late." She says, stepping to Vivian, extending her hand. "I have heard lots about you, I'm Amber." 

"Vivian. It's nice to meet you." Vivian replies, smiling her shiny smile that should win her an Oscar because she wears it so well even when she's fucking miserable--I obviously know from experience. 

Amber sits behind her desk as Vivian sits back down in the chair, and she looks up from her paperwork at us, raising her brows. 

"If we're going to start this grueling process, I highly suggest you two get comfortable being within three feet of each other, again." She adds.

Me and Vivian exchange looks, before she sighs and stands up, walking to the little couch I'm sitting on, plopping down beside me. 

I smirk to myself, looking at her from the side of my eye. 

"Okay, let's just get to it, Vivian, I've gotten a brief history of your husband, and I feel as though I can sort of, kind of, pin point a thing or two that has lead to the point that you two are at currently, but I'd really like to learn a little bit about you because all that's portrayed publicly to all of us is he's this nitty gritty, abrasive rock God, and you're the angel that tamed him to settle down." She explains and Vivian scoffs, raising her brows. "I know it sounds ridiculous but that's what's given in magazines and pictures taken of you two." 

"Yeah." Vivian nods. 

"And I don't think that's true, I don't think everything is happy and sunshine and, 'oh, we're opposites but that's what we love about each other,' and blah, blah, or else neither of you would be here admitting your marriage is in shambles...so, becoming familiar with Nikki--sober--the way that I have the past week gives me a sense of who he really is without the drugs and the cameras and the fans and the girls, because in here he's only got himself. He doesn't have to upkeep the persona he puts on to make it seem like everything's perfect. And, although you aren't a patient here, I really want you to allow yourself to just be and differentiate between who you are to the public, and who you are privately, because--from what I've heard--they're two completely different people." She says next and Vivian nods. "So, who is Vivian Kinston and how did she get together with Nikki Sixx?" She offers a warm smile and Vivian exhales, already looking overwhelmed…"In three descriptions, who were you when you met Nikki?" 

"A very religious, ballet dancing, perfectionist." Vivian says and Amber nods. 

"Let's dissect that and break it down for a moment." She says next. "Okay, religious--was that on your own or passed through your family or…?"

"Both of my parents, but mainly my mom." She replies and Amber nods. 

"Okay, and what is mom like?" 

"Very strict Christian, we couldn't have anything secular in the house...I'm not sure what she's like now but when I last saw her she had the pastor I grew up with trying to exorcise a demon from me because she found out I was engaged to Nikki." She tells her and Amber's brows shoot up. 

"When was that?" 

"'82, '83, around that time." Vivian explains. 

"So you haven't seen mom in close to six years." 

"Yeah." 

"Okay...you were a ballet dancer when you met," she starts the next point. 

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Since I can remember." Vivian informs her. 

"So, a strict Christian upbringing, and a very, very, intricate form of dance that requires a lot of discipline, since you were probably a toddler." 

"Yeah." 

"And is that where the perfectionism comes in, through your background with dance?"

"No." 

"No, okay."

"My mom and my upbringing." Vivian explains. "Anytime I did something my mom didn't like or approve of or thought other people would lose their minds over if they knew I was doing it, she'd get onto me and would constantly drill into my head, 'this is not what we do, Vivian'." 

"Wow." Amber nods, her brows slightly furrowed. "So, it doesn't come from a place of that physical drive to be perfect at most things you do, it comes from a mental and emotional drive of not wanting people to know what skeletons are in the closet that would make them think less of you." 

Vivian nods, taking a deep breath. 

"Okay, and do you think that sense of perfectionism from your mother has helped you or harmed you in the long run?" 

"Harmed." She's saying it nearly before Amber can get her words out of her mouth. 

"And why is that?" 

"Because I grew up with her holding me to a nearly unreachable standard, and hounding unrealistic expectations onto me." 

"And in turn…"

"...It's made me do the same to him." Vivian says and I stare at the floor. 

"What unrealistic expectations, or unreachable standard have you held him to?" 

"Not doing the things that he's done." She says next. 

"What things?" 

"Infidelity and drug and alcohol addiction." 

"Why is expecting your husband not to cheat on you or put drugs and alcohol before you an unrealistic expectation that is unattainable for him?" Amber asks next and I rub my lips together. 

"Because of who he is and what he does." Vivian says next and Amber raises her brows. 

"So you think because he's Nikki Sixx--big time rockstar--that it's not realistic to expect him to do what he is supposed to do as your husband which is stay faithful and not put substances before you?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh, I see." Amber looks at me and I sigh. "Was your relationship ever open or polygamous, during or prior to marriage?" 

"No." She shakes her head. 

"Was he addicted to anything when you got married?"

"He did drugs and drank but at that point in time he didn't have a heavy reliance on it, no."

"An unrealistic expectation would be you telling him he can sleep with other women but then you getting angry every time he did. That's setting an unrealistic expectation of, 'I'm giving you permission to indulge in sex with other women but I expect you not to,' or him being addicted to heroin when you got married and you expecting him to drop any addiction he has solely based on the fact that you two got married. That's an unrealistic expectation. Him being a famous rock musician has nothing to do with his ability, or lack thereof, to be monogamous and sober." She explains to Vivian. "So you wanting your husband to not have an affair and not get strung out was not an unrealistic expectation that you had in a moment of naivety." She assures her.

"Okay." Vivian sounds like she's been waiting to hear that for a while…

"And I believe the issues you two are facing the most from both Nikki, and yourself, have grown from the root of how you two think. I know we hear the saying, 'opposites attract,' but we don't think about how sometimes when people are too opposite it acts like hot and cold air when it mixes and if it's in a big enough whirl, or big enough of a spectrum, it creates a tornado or a hurricane." She says next. "Religion equals a sense of morality, your history with ballet equipped you with a fair amount of discipline, and that perfectionism that you spoke on is your way of caring so much about what others think of you, you sacrifice yourself and just smile to keep things looking amazing on the outside."

Vivian nods. 

"I asked him to describe you in three words, and he said, 'beautiful, depressed, belligerent'." She tells her and I slowly see tears coming to Vivian's eyes. "Nikki admitted to me that when he met you, he had no sense of morality, he was doing whatever he wanted, when he wanted, he had no discipline in terms of controlling himself around drugs and women, and he couldn't give less of a care about what people thought of him." She explains. "And that might even been fun and exciting when you were just starting out but once you're married and he's gotten all these eyes on him suddenly, there are expectations put on the both of you to be this couple who has everything, and you're both attractive, and he's the bad boy and you're the good girl and you just fell in love is the only explanation you have for making the relationship work to the point of wanting to get married and you have a great house and matching cars and all this and all that and you're in the press smiling and laughing and holding hands and hugging up on each other and oh, it's a wonderful life, but as soon as you get alone…" she trails off, looking at the both of us knowingly. "He's high, you're suffering, and both of you are living a hell. But nobody can know that because you're Nikki and Vivian Sixx. You two are perfect because he doesn't cheat on you like other rockstars do to their wives and girlfriends. He doesn't put drugs and alcohol before you like so many others do to their girlfriends and their wives. He doesn't turn into this monster you don't recognize and lash out like a dog at you after a night of sitting in his closet and shooting up, because he 'loves' you, and you don't have to keep quiet for years while it just keeps adding up and adding up until finally you beat on your husband and those around you over minuet instances because the big things you were probably justified to get that angry over were swept under the rug and were never dealt with for years--because that's not what you do." She ties it right back to Vivian's mother. 

A tear rolls down Vivian's cheek, neither of us expecting it to be this heavy just during her introduction to Viv. 

"If we don't stop that mentality, it's going to poison every relationship around you that it hasn't already and when you have children it's going to be a curse on them just like it's a curse on you." She tells her, as Viv sniffles, trying to keep up with wiping her tears away. "I've already been on him about his upbringing burdening him, so please don't think this is a personal attack on you."

Viv nods, mouthing, "okay."

"You two want to make this relationship better and be better for one another, we are going to have to tear down six years worth of walls and blockades and gut this entire thing completely and start again. It's not going to be easy, you're probably going to learn things about each other you've been hiding and maybe even amicably decide to divorce before it's all over with, but you are both going to heal and start the process of forgiveness. With yourselves, with your parents, with your friends, and with each other."

She gives the both of us some homework...

"I want you two to prepare to tell each other everything you've not told one another for next time we meet." Amber tells us and the color drains from Viv's face, I know for a fucking fact that I don't look much different from her.

"What?" Vivian asks her.

"If we're healing this relationship we need everything in the dark in the light so we aren't building on an old foundation of secrets." She states. Vivian just nods hesitantly before we're dismissed.

"Vivian." I stop her out in the hall before she can leave, grabbing gently at her wrist.

"Yeah?" She asks me. 

"I love you." I tell her and she looks at me, smiling a little. 

"I'll see you Wednesday." She replies, squeezing my hand before she walks away. 

What the hell? I tell her and I love her and she just fucking says, "I'll see you Wednesday'?" 

I watch as she goes down the hall, heels clicking, hair down her back…

Goddamn. 

This is definitely my payback for taking my time with her for granted, because now that I'm in my right mind and not ruining our marriage, she barely even looks at me. 

At least she was actually wanting to work things out, because after the Vanity bullshit, I thought we'd never make it out after the first time I saw her since it had happened.

July 1987

I brace myself against the bathroom wall as my whole body goes numb for a moment, my eyes rolling momentarily. 

"Sixx, c'mon, we gotta get goin', Viv's here!" Fred yells from behind the door, his fist beating at it. 

Fuck him. Fuck this tour. Fuck this band. Fuck everything right now. 

Viv's just got here from the airport, she flew back in earlier this morning and I've been hiding, completely avoiding her, but I can't anymore. 

The media's in a frenzy since Vanity aired all of our dirty laundry, only making Viv and I both on edge even more. 

We've been denying the shit out of Vanity's engagement claims, but I don't think people are buying it as much as we'd like to think they are. 

I take in a breath and stumble to the mirror, looking at myself. 

Not too bad for a low down, dirty, bastard. 

Opening the bathroom door to see where Fred's waiting for me, I glance past his shoulder to see Vivian.

She looks like she feels like hell, but has managed to pull herself together. 

Makes two of us--well, kind of, at least. 

"C'mon, the guys are already at the venue." 

Fred tells me. 

"Great." I smirk, patting his shoulder, stepping to Vivian. 

I don't think either of us are taking into consideration the amount of utter bullshitting we're about to have to do. 

I also don't expect the amount of paparazzi waiting for us right outside the hotel's doors.

As soon as the door opens, screaming, flashes, invasive questions come hurtling our way. It feels closterphobic enough to make Vivian grab my hand, tight, curling closer into me as if trying to hide away from prying cameras and questions about my alleged affair.

I feel her being tugged at once, and just as she says, "Nikki," I'm snatching my hand from hers to beat repeatedly, as hard as I can, at the forearm of the perpetrator, a media creep trying to get her attention. 

"Don't fucking touch her!" I bark out over the noise and he stumbles back, holding at his arm as I put my arm around her waist, tightly, getting to the car. 

When we get inside, Vivian's obviously distraught over what just happened, shoving herself away from me. 

I turn my anger to Fred. 

"What the fuck is the point of  having fucking security if you're not going to keep people from touching her?" I sneer. 

"Because I'm a bodyguard, but you're a fucking Rottweiler." He states back without hesitation and I just roll my jaw, glancing at Vivian and she doesn't even look at me. 

I sigh and dig in my pocket for the little baggie I got earlier, grabbing my hotel room key to take a bump to help me wake up for this show, and when we get to the venue, I'm getting out of the car and waiting for Fred to get out. 

He does, and I stop Vivian, nudging her back inside before saying, "we'll be there in a second."

Fred just looks at me and exhales, rolling his eyes before stepping inside. 

Vivian sighs out as I look at her, avoiding looking at me…

"Vivian, are we gonna talk about it or…?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I think we should."

"You proposed to her, Nikki."

"Allegedly." I add.

"You. Proposed. To. Her." She says it sharply and I lean back. "You had an affair with her. I trusted you. I trusted the both of you. And you lied to me." She hisses. "So, no, there is nothing to talk about...just let me out of the damn car." She slides over and opens the door but I reach over her and slam it shut.

She takes heavy breaths from where she's sitting, my body hovering over hers, the tips of our noses brushing together…

I lean down, my lips pressing to her's for just a second before she lets go of the fact I completely screwed her over. 

I'm about to pull away when she pushes her tongue past my lips, her nails running over my back through my shirt as her legs wrap around my hips, one of her hands in my knotted hair.

As always, I end up eating her like a starved pervert, relishing in the sounds of her moans and gasps. 

The truth is, she may hate me, but I'm good at getting her off and she knows it.

Once she comes and we start getting ourselves together to go inside, I look over at her. 

"So, are we good?" I ask her, oh, so fucking stupidly, and she blinks at me. 

"What?" 

"Are we good?" 

She catches on to what I mean, and rubs her lips together. 

"Nikki, you could fuck me into oblivion, which you can't because I'm never letting you fucking touch me again, and we still wouldn't be good. Not even close to 'good'. You can't have an affair with my friend and then expect everything to be good just because we fooled around while you were stoned out of your mind." She snaps and I roll my jaw as she gets out and slams the door, stomping to the back entrance of the venue. 

For the first time I feel the sting of rejection. 

Is this how groupies feel? 

I never thought once about getting head, leaving them in the limo and going on about my business. 

Anger boils in me, Sikki chomping at the bit. 

That selfish bitch! 

I get out and go after her. 

I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna say to her, but I'm mad. 

"How dare you use me to get your rocks off and then toss me aside?", no, because I've done that to her a couple times...but that's because she's into it. 

I swear she comes harder when I randomly come up behind her and just start going at it because she knows I'm just using her to get off and then leave her wherever I stopped her, and go out right after and wouldn't think twice about it. 

But me? I'm so used to her looking at me like I'm God while I have my full attention on making her feel good, and she has the audacity to get off on my face and then kick me to the curb and tell me I'm never touching her again?! 

I decided it wasn't worth the fist fight it would inevitably turn into by the time I got inside, but and looking back, she had every reason to get me horny and then swear off ever letting me get near her again. It was petty, but smart. And despite having sex one last time not long after that instance, the point was still made clear. For the first time in our relationship, the acceptance of sexual advances didn't take the place of forgiveness.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

[noortjelanterfanter]

Do I just have poor taste?

Because it seems like yes, I do. In partners that is. So, as people who have followed me for a while know, I live a poyamorous lifestyle. And a big part of living like that is communication. My newest partner hasn’t been in polyamorous relationships before and I stressed to him how important communication is to me. Somehow he neglected to tell me he has a date today until yesterday, at which time it just hit me like a fucking bomb freshly out of the spa. So not only has he singlehandedly pretty much wasted that 100 euros I spent in that damn spa, he also just neglects to tell me shit. And I’m a very traumatised person, especially when it comes to communication and trust. It’s not just because it comes with the lifestyle that I value communication. It’s because my trust has been severely broken in the past. But somehow he refuses to understand that. He doesn’t seem to understand that I have been hurt in the past because people just up and left me. So. I don’t know if I’ve ever talked about my trauma, but if I haven’t, here it is. Trigger warning on cheating, relationship problems and stuff related to that.

Sooo... I was in a monogamous relationship from my 16th till my 20th, 4 years and 12 days, to be exact. And a lot happened in those for years. I was very toxic, as I was a severely depressed, somewhat psychotic teenager and I put this poor guy through hell. I will never shun or shame him for leaving me, he should’ve done that way earlier. He was a lovely guy, I’m not sure I would’ve been here without him. He wasn’t perfect, the more I look back on it, he had his flaws too, the main one being very bigoted and extremely judgemental. I always blamed his Christianity for it, but I think he’s just a judgemental person. Anyway. The relationship should’ve ended way before it did. So... this relationship ended in November, around halfway through. Our anniversary was on November 5th. For the last part of our relationship I imagine he felt the way I feel a lot at the moment with my partners, enduring the abuse I threw at him. Anyway, over the summer I stayed at the house of an acquantance, for roughly a month. He stayed with me and it was pretty much the first time we lived together. I was in the process of getting therapy and for me it felt like we were in a relatively good place. I think in his mind he was already done, but just stayed out of habit (I kinda do the same). So at some point he has a concert planned. And I remember this very vividly, because it’s a significant moment. He went, and I didn’t, as I had decided I wouldn’t need to be in every aspect of his life and it was OK to give him some space and trust him, I think for the very first time I did this and fully felt OK with the situation. He met his current girlfriend on that event. I remember him joking that there was a girl that was very interested in him, but that she was really young. I remember joking that it was a bit early to leave me for a younger woman. And this joke haunts me. I get teary eyed remembering this. Over the next few weeks and months he slowly grew distant. He didn’t really engage with me after work when we still “lived together” snapping at me he just wanted to unwind, while he was just talking to that girl, which I didn’t know at the time, but I know now. This slowly grew... And as a depressed girl losing her one and only, I gripped on tighter. Which was the wrong thing to do, but it happens. So our anniversary comes, I think he bought me a cute gift, although I don’t remember. He posted this lengthy post on FB about how he was so fortunate to have me and how he loved me so much and how we would be together forever and blablabla. You know, the usual clingy cringy couple bullshit. And it was cute. And I felt loved. Less than 2 weeks later we were broken up. I think the weekend of the 14th of November we had a long talk. He wanted us to go to a couple  we were very close with and whom I’m still fairly close with. To talk shit out. We decided to give it another week, even though I had people standby to pick me up in case it was a break up. The day after we went to see Marilyn Manson in concert. That weekend is a weird memory. Anyway. That whole weekend was a mess of a shitton of crying, him not wanting to look at me, but at the same time telling me I wouldn’t just lose him and how he wasn’t just going to leave (funny, because he did). He was very clear and saying that BS over and over again. I left on Monday evening. We broke up the next day. He was leaving me on read and then accused me of checking on him when I told him I saw him online on FB. So we called. And this asshole breaks up with me over the phone. On Tuesday the 17th. I was devestated, but the worst was yet to come. Over the following weeks I was accused of cheating, which I had considered when I was abroad, but had not actually done, but I’m very honest. I was accused of being a psycho, I was accused of lying, of abuse, of violence. And people that know me know that, yes, emotional abuse maybe, but I am the least violent person people meet. About a month later he said I needed to move on and couldn’t let him go. I blocked him on everything on the spot and that was that. He was angry. He was really angry. Which was fine, my point was made. I unblocked him from stuff a few days later because I don’t care. It was to prove a point. In the months following, I find out he bad-mouthed me to everyone who would hear it and also to people who wouldn’t, while I defended him even though the breakup was messy on his part. So fast forward to say... December. And I see he’s in a relationship. Starting on November 16th. Which is the day before we broke up. I was livid. I talked to him and he was denying it, he said we had broken up before. But bitch, I wouldn’t have gone to see Marilyn Manson with you if we were broken up before that day. Turns out he was already in a relationship with that other girl before he even broke up with me. And didn’t admit to that until after I told him I didn’t give a shit about the fact that it was wrong on FB and I didn’t expect him to change it. Just to tell me I’m right. Which he agreed to I was. I spoke to a girl who knew him at the time. She told me he had tried to sleep with her while I was in Dublin. He denies it, but honestly, who’se going to lose face if it turns out true? Not that girl that didn’t know me. So. I find out he cheated. There’s more mess and more stuff that makes me sad, but this is the gist of what happened to me. The one person who labeled himself as loyal, turned out to not be loyal at all, broke every ounce of trust I had and then accused me of the things that he did. 

To this day, I have trust issues, I don’t do well in commitment, I deal horribly with every form of rejection and I always assume people are going to leave. I think he is the reason why I don’t commit to one person anymore. I think he’s the reason I turn psycho when people neglect to tell me they have a date. He’s the reason I don’t trust easily. He’s the reason I distance myself from people the second they do anything that could possibly hurt me. I don’t just go jealous, I go jealous, then psycho then indifferent. If you find me indifferent towards you, it means I’ve created a wall and good luck to you with the wall cause I shan’t be taking it down. 

Anyway, sorry for the messy and emotional post. I just had to vent, because my partner caused me to relive all of this. As I already do every year from half October until December. 

[garbagegrimoire]

#31daysofhorror day 7, St. Maud

St. Maud had so many elements of an ideal horror movie & really was a good movie. As I think back over it, it seems like the overall slog of this week (everything shoved into 3 days due to time constraints) really affected my first watch & impression.

Additionally, Maud/Katie is a fucking insufferable narrator. I understand that her self-righteous bullshit is key to the storytelling but as someone who grew up in a rural Baptist community, the whole self-obsessed “god’s favorite servant” put me into a state of perpetual gag.

So, I was tired of watching movies & I hated the main character right off the bat. Admittedly, I didn’t come into it with a lot of balance.

The movie gives you a few clues but is incredibly open-ended. I still have no idea what happened & not in a bad way -- you often don’t get the answers in these types of stories. Was Maud/Katie suffering delusions? Was she interacting with some deity? Or just a non-human spiritual entity? I couldn’t tell you.

The spiritual voice using Welsh feels a little off, like perhaps it’s a clue, especially for a Catholic convert. I’m still not exactly sure where the movie is set but obviously somewhere in the UK & the actress who plays Maud/Katie has a Welsh name & the character seems to understand the voice. So, it’s possible that I’m overthinking it all & it’s all just specific to the setting or background.

Still, Latin is typically the spiritual language of choice when dealing with Catholic mythologies/stories. Direct communication via the languages of the people is more of a Protestant idea.

Regardless, delusion is still on the table. I’d assume that beyond locale & individual ancestry, most people in the UK have an idea of what Welsh, Scotts, & Gaeilge sound like & I could see that knowledge bleeding into the delusions of someone having a severe mental health crisis.

Is it a non-human spirit? It could be some sort of mythological figure or old god pertinent to Wales.

Is it the Christian God? Seems increasingly unlikely, especially since most of the movie is predominantly English & Katie/Maud never speaks Welsh or explains any personal connection to the language. Then again, for all I know the setting could be Swansea. It’s not said in the movie & the setting wasn’t mentioned in a cursory reading of the movie’s IMDB or Wiki pages.

In the end, I walked away from this thinking I was missing some key element & perhaps I didn’t pay close enough attention. Then again, the things I read about the movie & conversations I had with others who watched offered no further clarification so perhaps it was intentional on the part of the filmmakers.

Either way, this was one of the better movies on the list so far.

Current ranking:

Llamageddon

St. Maud

Mortal

The Voyeurs

Sea Fever

Demon House

It Came from the Desert

I feel at this point I need to explain the ranking a little better... This year I’m basing it 100% on how much I enjoyed the movie. Objectively St. Maud is a better movie than Llamageddon but I enjoyed Llamageddon more so it stays at the top of the list.

& again I’m hoping to come back & do a crisper, digital version of the drawing but for now all I’ve got is my hand drawn sketch.

See you tomorrow!

#sage31days #31 days of horror #31daysofhorror #st maud movie #possession movies #horror movies #horror review

[calypsoff]

Fifty Three.

Leaving my very first therapy session, not my first but it’s been a while. I was engaged then and now I am married so a lot has changed for me. My therapist is dope, I do like him because he just lets’ me say everything I want and it was a good session, he says my confidence is knocked even though I am doing big things, I am in myself and lost my confidence thinking I am not good enough, he says I will deny it but I am actually feeling like I am not good enough for the blessing I am receiving including the fact I will be a father, it’s not nice to hear but he is right I guess. I do feel like I can’t protect my family, but we spoke, and I feel good, it went well “thank you” I said too the SUV driver, I am out here having to go around in an SUV now, I have no car which I need to invest in. My phone started ringing as I got into the SUV, the driver closed the door as I got in. My twin called me right on time, I told her what time my session was, she must have worked it out with the time difference between us “hello twin” I answered the call “hey poppa, I miss your face so much and it’s just the first week. Sucks but how is you? I told you I would call you on time, even though I made everyone go on a break because I wanted to make sure you were ok, so tell me poppa. What happened?” I like that Robyn is so invested in my therapy, it shows that she actually cares about me “so I walked in and I told him it’s been a while, where has he been. He told me he was at Puerto Rico and then we got into it, we spoke on everything and then he turned around and said that my confidence is not there, I feel like I am not worth what is happening to me right now, meaning the marriage and everything, because I can’t protect my family and in a way he is right, but he said only I can fight that, I feel good to speak about it. He said gradually it will come back and it’s good that Robyn has made me stay here, that I need to learn and that my friends will help that so yeah” sighing out, Robyn is very quiet down the phone and I hate that she is quiet.

I wonder what she is thinking “Chris my heart hurts for you so much, I just sit here thinking. Even when I left on the jet to come here, all I did was think of you and I said it to Mel. I said he went jail for holding drugs for his cousin, he got jumped and beat up there with scars on him for that, then he got jumped outside his mother’ home and then he got shot at the home I left you in. The attacks you have had in your life Chris, I am not surprised you don’t trust and you are fearful but I know you, I know you would protect me with your whole life, this is how much I know you because you are already protective of me. I don’t think any less of you Chris, it sucks that it happened to you. That the situation happened and yet I wish I was there for you, I wish I never left because I would have never let you do that, but it happened and now we are together. I will support you to the end of this earth Chris, I will. I want you to gradually get better, I love you so much. Me and our baby love you so much, we do” rubbing the top of my head, I ain’t going to cry “I will do it Robyn, for you and our baby” I sniffled “it’s just hard, but I miss you so much. The bed ain’t the same without you, I mean TJ did jump on the new bed, he said he was testing which bed is best, he has been here for one day and is creating havoc” Robyn chuckled “this is why I wanted you to have them there, see TJ is making you laugh is he not?” nodding my head “he is, it’s nice they are here. They both gave me a big hug and stuff, you are right” Robyn cackled “I love being right, but we will talk later, tonight my time. I will text you and then call. I need to finish off this meeting, I am designing some slides, I will show you the ideas, I love you so much poppa” I grinned “I love you too twin, take care of yourself” disconnecting the call.

Stood outside my home as the gate behind me closed, it’s so surreal that this is my home. Never in my dreams did I think I would be living in a gated community like this, I have the likes of the Kardashians as neighbours, they sent us gifts and apparently Justin Bieber is looking to move here, so they say but when I saw they sent us gifts, welcome gifts to Robyn she sent something back, I am not sure what anyways but it’s wild to me. I thank god every morning for this, I love coming here. The security be checking in the car even though we put the passcode in, they don’t care. And there is three of them on there so to me, that makes me sleep easy at night “thank you god” I sighed out again walking towards the front door, I wonder what they are doing. I did tell them the pool guy is coming so I hope they let him in, unlocking the door and pushed it open. Closing the door behind me which locks automatically as I do, the security guy that came was amazing. Every door that leads outside once closed locks unless we change it so I like that feature, these niggas are having a party in this house. Least I know where they are, making my way to the kitchen. This is the only place they would be of course; my smile grew seeing TJ just dancing and singing “Why you do me like that? Joanna, Jo Jo Joanna” he sang as Barry cooked, this is how it is always. Barry the cook “y’all niggas having fun, is the pool guy here?” I asked, TJ stopped dancing “oh yeah he is outside, how was it? You look less angry” walking around the counter “nigga I wasn’t even angry” let me go and see the pool guy, he is new to us and I want to just check we good for him to come every week here. The back door is already open as I stepped out “Chris?” he pointed at me “hi, are you Chris too?” I pointed laughing “yes, I am Chris too, but my full name is Christian. Nice to meet you” shaking his hand “likewise, was the pool dirty or was it ok?” I asked “It’s actually ok, not as bad as some. I cleaned out the filter and added some shocker to help with the clean of it, I am nearly done. I actually do all the pools in this community” letting out an oh “I was going to ask, you ok to come every week?” he bowed his head “I can of course, I am just going next to yours after, so I am known around this neighbourhood, how you like it around here? Crazy isn’t it?” nodding my head “it is, security is tight here. Has there been any breaks ins here?” he laughed “how? Nobody can come here unless you live here, guests? You need to call the guys about it first, I have worked here for a year now and there hasn’t been, pretty secure. Nice to meet you though, I am most excited to meet Rihanna, but Barry I think his name, he said she is away. Nice house bro” dapping him “thank you brother, appreciate it. They gave you a drink?” I asked “they did, even offered me lunch but I am ok with the water” I am glad they did that.

Barry is a good ass cook “I missed your food homie” I grinned eating his steak, this nigga really offered to make this, he is a good man “thank you, it’s so quiet at the crib without you. Besides when TJ brings that child of his, he’s taken your room” I cooed out “I need to meet that little nigga, I am coming to VA so we will meet up. I want y’all to be there, I am buying a home for my parents. Robyn agreed to it so I want you both there and bring little man with you, how this child going to be my godson and I ain’t met him” TJ laughed “be quiet, he knows you don’t worry but how was the session, tell us” TJ asked “erm it went ok, I need to get my confidence back. I feel good about myself but it’s like one of those things why me, how am I still around after this. You know, after all that happened to me and I am here still. He said it would be gradual, but y’all niggas being here is nice. And I know I kind of closed myself off from y’all but I needed that but we good right” Barry side eyed me “of course we are, I just didn’t understand the fuck happened. You went quiet on the group chat and everything, the business account wasn’t being looked into like you said so we just took it over. You will get there brother, nigga you been smelling death so many times. I don’t blame you” I chuckled, Barry is funny, but he is right.

Stretching my body out “that was good, that steak is better than Robyn’ but don’t ever repeat those words, she will get offended of course” I laughed “Robyn get offended about anything when it comes to you but thank you, I think I should do catering. Once this business starts getting back to normal we should, we haven’t really spoke on the business actually. Like when you came around from the accident and we made that money and you took it out, well since then we haven’t been promoting or anything, things have gone a little quiet and we had to decline orders because we don’t have the supplier, I mean we do but we haven’t put the order in, well TJ didn’t before we left for Barbados, so we don’t have the stock. Whatever you got with you now is what we got so it’s something we need to speak on, and we had someone from Brooklyn Project get in contact and I said the owner that is dealing with it is not currently here, but I would let you know, he left his number, but you deal with that” this is not good “so back to the supplier, it’s what? Not there or what?” I am confused “oh he is there but he has just become busy with a different order which has put us behind” shaking my head “we need to change that, we need the supplier to be in Cali, I need to change that, get the Brooklyn guy up, I will speak to him. Isn’t that a skate store?” Barry shrugged as he went on his phone “we need to get back to how we were, this is lazy. Extremely lazy, what happened to the bitch that was dealing with the social side of it? I was literally speaking to her on messages?” TJ looked at Barry “Mel told Barry that Robyn didn’t like her, so Barry fired” raising an eyebrow “are you being deadass? Why? That is bullshit, Robyn will dislike everything you going to continue to fire everyone” how stupid is that.

I can’t believe this, Barry fired the girl because Mel told him that Robyn disliked her. I get she did but I needed her, I can’t believe this nigga “it’s Dom” Barry held the phone out to me “I am annoyed with you” pressing the phone to my ear as it rang out “hello” he answered “hi Dom it’s Chris Brown, Black Pyramid owner, I heard you have been trying to contact me” I said down the phone “hey Chris, good hearing from you. I have been waiting for your phone call, I have been looking at your clothing line and I am wondering if we could talk about some deal with me selling some of your stuff” my eyes widened “oh yeah for sure, I can come down now? If you are free and then we can discuss” that is crazy “yes, come down to my store I am here. We can talk over some drinks” this is a big deal for me “yes, I am coming now Dom. Speak soon” disconnecting the call “we need to get to Brooklyn Projects, I think we got a big deal coming along and next time if Robyn dislikes anyone do not fire them, that is bullshit. I will get over it for now but don’t do that shit again, that doesn’t make sense to do unless Mel made a scene about it” getting up from the seat “anyways, let’s go” I am so excited about this now.

I know this SUV driver is sick of me, I am constantly calling him for everything but oh well, Robyn said I can use him “so what is happening between you and Mel? You both seem to be extremely close, well close enough to be talking about me and Robyn huh” turning in my seat to face him, he is sat in the back “actually, you both aren’t the centre of the conversation. It just so happens you both end up in the conversation, can I just defend myself right now. What happened was that Mel goes oh Robyn mentioned that there is a woman working for Chris for the line, he is messaging her a lot, Robyn doesn’t like it, and that Mel knows of her and she is useless. I know Mel wouldn’t lie to me” side eying Barry “nah she just played you, don’t ever do that again but you both dating or what?” Robyn did mention me to ask “nah, we just cool” I smirked “you just lay the pipe and leave” I chuckled “bro, she wanted it. She was up for it pretty quick like on it, these Barbadian women are on it” squinting my eyes at him “not mine, maybe yours” I corrected him “well she sucked my dick on the first occasion, so I think I pretty much win on that” TJ gasped “on the first occasion? Man, I thought Mel had standards” Barry reached over and hit TJ “aye listen, on a real you going to claim that or nah? You playing or something” I am not having this little thing ruin my marriage or anything “well if I can just have Mel there, then I can still have the rest. You know the pussy I get for knowing you and Rihanna? Ask TJ” looking at TJ nodding his head “Mel is good people Barry” this is not good “you wanted to settle, that is you Chris. I do but right now I am having fun, Mel and I have an understanding, maybe I will. A nigga got to live right now” maybe I will pretend I never asked Barry “don’t be using my name too much now” I mumbled.

Walking into Brooklyn Projects “Chris Brown!” this middle aged white man came out from the back “Dom, what’s good bro” dapping him “you came here quick, I like that. Welcome to my store” stepping to the side “these are my business partners TJ and Barry, you may have spoken to one of them. Sorry for the wait, I had a lot going on right now but as soon as I found out I came out” looking around his store, some of this shit look dope actually “come out back, we having some chill time and I got a half pipe out there too. Come” he waved us over, stuffing my hands in my pockets following this guy out the back, he seems really cool actually. There is actually a few people here just stood around, making my way by them and into the back where he mentioned the half pipe “holy shit” I said shocked, this shit is huge “cool isn’t it” I didn’t expect it “this is dope bro” looking over at him “I have this for my customers and friends to use, you skate?” he asked “mhmm I did, a little when I was in school. A nigga stopped that when I got locked up” I laughed “I am out bro” seeing The Game come over to him out of nowhere “thank you for coming, see you soon again sometime” he looked at me “this is Chris” Dom introduced me “what’s good homie?” he dapped me “good meeting you” I am not star struck but it’s crazy meeting him in person, he walked off and Dom just waved me over “we have drinks and weed here, you come at the perfect time” I really have “wow, thank you” he is a good man just giving us this.

Dom got the good weed here, I am impressed. This is my second blunt here just watching him on the half pipe, I don’t think I will try that right now. Too many people just watching me “you dope bro” blowing the smoke out from my lips “appreciate it so” he sat down next to me “I have had my eye on your clothing line, now the things you are designing is things my people will wear. I know they will sell, I am looking to bulk buy, depending on how it sells meaning how quick I may need daily intakes of stock but I want us to go into partnership with this” placing the blunt between my lips shocked, this guy has really come out of nowhere asking this. Moving the blunt back away from my lips “you serious on this? Like you my first person to bulk buy to sell at a store” blowing the smoke out “serious, I like your stuff. I think you should get a spot at the Agenda Show in Vegas, it’s coming up. It’s a diverse creative lifestyle place where independent people like yourself can showcase your stuff but I am serious, you think you will be ok with that?” nodding my head “you serious? I am on it, yes” shaking his hand “you a good man but go to the Agenda show. I am telling you now, it will work out for you” I haven’t heard of that at all, but he could be right.

I can’t help but laugh at Barry even attempting to go on the half pipe, his fat ass is going to break a bone “he crazy” TJ said what I am thinking, he is so stupid “about to break his ass for what” I chuckled “you know what, I had a real good idea about the clothing line but you ain’t going to listen or even take in what I am going to say but I will say it. I think once it comes out that you should sell a tee with y’all picture on it and call it Nobodies Business Tee, just to attract more attention” looking over at TJ, I am speechless but also it is kind of a good idea “I would say yes but then it would look like I am using my marriage to show off, maybe we can keep that for a while. I am not angry at it, I think it’s a good idea because you’re using a song title from her album, but not now. We need to wait on that” I am not even angry about that; I think it’s creating attention that we may need “you thought I would be angry?” I questioned “yeah, you really protective of Robyn that is why” least he knows that I am.

#chrianna #chrianna ff #fanfic #fanfiction #chriannaff #chrianna fanfiction

[resignedseraph]

hi, i struggle a lot with the idea of defining my faith because of my personal experience with the catholic/christian based faiths. i was brought up in catholic school and i could probably tell you anything about any of it at this point, but the one constant for me was always that the god i was taught about got more complex with age which i think is bullshit because then we get into the bible was written through divine inspiration and the hypocrisy that just because the holy spirit (which is god (who is infallible)) divinely inspired people (who are infallible) that means suddenly only priests and popes can translate god's plan for you because they were Called to Serve™️ - i'm not gonna go down that rabbit hole because i'm pretty sure i'll have an aneurysm (you can't say god is the embodiment of red and so what if that includes green - i'm watching the good doctor and they made a similar reference which means it's the only thing i can think up rn).

ANYWAYS. the post that prompted this was "i wasn't getting into your heaven anyways" i think. how do you know that heaven is the right heaven? how do we know catholicism hasn't been corrupted by the demons of say capitalism and bigotry and arrogance etc and that the only way you could actually get into heaven is if you stop trying. why would their version of god want eternal life with people that only ever did the right thing so they could live forever? i think the god i could get behind would have a heaven for the sake of those that actually deserve it. give them what they think they want and oversee it even though they have to watch their creation wallow in the sin they tried to save them from (which by the standard of the god i learned about in elementary school like the god that should exist or else fuck that shit i'm out) and they would do it because it's the unselfish thing to do and as much as it hurts they couldn't bear to have anyone else be subjected to that kind of awful. and say hell ends up being heaven? say the archangels falling was an elaborate ruse to TRULY separate good people from bad people? and maybe heaven isn't really hell but it's this limbo that the bad people go to but like they have the chance to realize they were awful and like that could be how they could maybe get to heaven but they have to realize it themselves and try to redeem themselves by doing something really big with the knowledge that they could be wrong and end up going to fire and brimstone and never see their loved ones again for it but still they try because it's the right thing to do. and what if purgatory is for the worst people, maybe there's a parallel to it that people who are truly sick/were born with something in them broken are the demons that make purgatory the worst place as their punishment along with like demons or whatever idk i'm making this up on the spot. what if hell is the heaven you always hoped for, heaven is the hell you're living through, and purgatory is just unimaginable horrific with like hitler and shit getting what they SO deserve and more.

wouldn't that be like wicked cool?

i'm sorry if that doesn't make any sense i'm probably gonna go try to write a book or some shit but like idk. it felt like you might find my semi critical ramblings somewhat relatable? or that it might - not restore your faith i'm not here for that that's bullshit - heal something inside of you that's been broken by your personal experience with religion? maybe that you could die with that warm and fuzzy hope in your heart that we all should have had when we were kids..? i hope this doesn't upset you, i just. i'm a dreamer.

i was born with a heart that feels way too much and a conscience that will not let me be any other way than what i am. i've been called weird and annoying for it all my life. but i found a peace in truly rejecting religion, which i think people might forget also means buying into the fact that rejecting religion means we're doomed to the hell that religion subscribes to. i think maybe it could be rejecting the heaven and the hell that religion subscribes to and either defining it for ourselves or simply saying whatever and giving it the best you got even if your best doesn't seem all that good.

what if you were to embrace the things you've always been told make you bad to do the good you wish existed - and what if that was enough? i think that's why i get out of bed in the morning. and that maybe it's healed a part of me that's needed to believe in a world like that a long long time ago but never had the chance..

Look, this ask is so long and took me so long to figure out what it said (thank you brain), and I grew up very Protestant so I hope you don’t mind if I missed some stuff or can’t really address it. Also lmk if you want me to delete this or whatever, I just didn’t want to leave you hanging.

I do think Catholicism, and Christianity in general, have been corrupted by all those things. Probably not demons, just humans and their terrible ideas and striving for power.

I think that trying to decipher what any “true” meaning of a religion is —especially one like Christianity as an umbrella term— ends up being really confusing and complicated, and sometimes you even end up with a set of beliefs that aren’t even the religion you started out with. Trust me, I’ve tried. Some people can figure out beliefs that make sense for them, and that’s cool, but by the time I figured out a set of beliefs that made sense to me, it wasn’t even Christianity anymore except by inspiration.

I’m not sure what to make of your ideas about the afterlife setup, but I do think that the vast majority of ideas of Heaven tend to be a hell in themselves. I can’t justify the Heaven/Hell setup, and can’t say anything really about Purgatory since I don’t know enough about the most common beliefs about it, but it doesn’t sound fantastic either. Regardless, I don’t think punishment is the appropriate response to any sort of “sin,” especially from the perspective of a supposedly all-powerful, all-knowing, infinite being.

I think I’m fine with being doomed to the hells of the religions I don’t believe in. After all, that argument works with nearly every religion that has a concept of a punishment afterlife, and I’ve been fine with that since I was little, even if it was for different reasons. I’m honestly not sure about the last bit. I think I probably will die with that “fuzzy feeling,” but from a different source, most likely just love for humanity and the world.

#long post #Esrah talks #Heaven tw #hell tw #demons mention #sin tw #ex christian #ex catholic #not ex catholic myself but it relates

[queerlymasculine]

I'm not coming until tonight, and it's....... really hot lol

I know everyone does it differently, but although the time period was established by my owner, that's in name only because I literally asked last night if it would please hir if I didn't come until sometime today lol.

for me, although the fantasy of having the choice taken away from me is top tier very hot, I don't think it could work for me, right now as a general matter. and there's nothing wrong with that.

orgasm denial is portrayed terribly on Tumblr. it's usually given a moral value -- you are Good™️ if you don't come, and you are Bad™️ if you do. the general vibe is that you should™️ give up your decision-making power, either to a specific person or to the whims of the internet. and long-term/permanent denial is often seen as the pinnacle or the goal.

assigning moral value to acts and applying that value to everyone who engages in the act is always a terrible idea. but that goes doubly when the act involves physical pleasure. telling someone they've failed, that they're BAD when they feel good? the stuff of nightmares.

come to think of it, that's exactly the rhetoric the fundamentalist evangelical Christianity that I grew up with used. if you feel good, if you feel safe and warm and loved, you are failing - you are supposed to always be aware of how you deserve horrible things (or at least you deserve the absence of contentment) and should live your life in constant suffering. that is precisely the same language used broadly for orgasm denial.

when it comes to kink, if you are not enjoying yourself, if you are not feeling good, it is time to stop. sometimes, aching is feeling good. sometimes, yearning and craving feels good. but sometimes they stop feeling good. they become distracting or overwhelming or just shitty. and when that happens, you need to stop.

and no -- that doesn't mean you need to ask for permission for it to stop. that doesn't mean you need to ask to negotiate for a way out. it means you need to stop.

I refuse to contribute to a narrative where subs truly are at the mercy of their doms because that is false. you are a fully autonomous adult, and at the end of the day, you are in control of what happens to you and your body. full stop. and as an autonomous adult, you have the responsibility for your well-being. you can't negotiate that away. you are always ultimately responsible for yourself.

your dom might want something from you, sure. doms are allowed to want things and be into things. but you are an adult, and if you don't want to do something, you don't have to do it.

I've seen things go around that have the audacity to establish a hierarchy of the needs and wants of subs and doms. sub needs come first, then dom needs, then dom wants, then sub wants.

that? is bullshit. unless you EXPLICITLY agree to that, it does not apply to you.

it's toxic. hierarchies are toxic. telling someone that what they want doesn't matter just because they agreed to an exchange of power is fucking toxic, and anyone who spews that bullshit and states it as a principle of general applicability cannot be trusted.

this turned into a far different post than I intended. I'll write the post I intended too. but fuck if I can't fucking stand some people on here.

#TLDR cishet kink is a minefield of bullshit #some cis straight people are doing great and i stan #but generally speaking the hierarchical inflexible nature of how cishet people conceive of and engage in kink is terrifying #the hierarchy of real life just carries over into how cishet kink thinks about subs and doms and how power exchange Should™️ happen #yes kink often but not always contains power exchange #but that doesn't necessitate subjugation of needs OR wants

[ubernoxa]

The Dare: A Guns N’ Roses Fanfiction

Chapter 35: Bring Her Home

(Masterlist)

Pairing: Duff Mckagan/OC

Story Summary: A stupid harmless dare, that’s all it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be something they would do, and never revisit. For Delilah, little did she know that visiting the strip wasn’t going to be a one time thing when she made the choice to accept the dare. Life is full of choices. Some choices can mean absolutely nothing, while others can change your entire world. Delilah had heard many rumors about the Sunset Strip or Devil’s Strip. Teenagers would whisper stories about how the Devil walks the streets of the strips without a care in the world. It was known as a place untouched by God. After years of hearing rumors about the Devil’s Strip, Delilah wants to see it for herself. Thus a Dare was born.

Chapter Summary: Mags finds out Duff and Delilah had sex, and Mark finally gets the nerve to pop the question.

Taglist: @gingerspicetalks @str4nge-haze @queen-crue @dustnbones

It was cold.

Everything was cold.

Even the sunlight that shined through her apartment windows was cold.

Her eyes quickly scanned the room, and the only thing that changed from the night before was that Tonya was most likely in her room, fast asleep. A state Mags envied.

As if Mags was on autopilot, she took a shower and got dressed for the day. She was still mad at her brother, but she still sprinted towards the bus stop not wanting to miss the bus that would take her to her brother’s apartment. Not only did she have some food she wanted to drop off, but she also wanted to check up on Del.

She adjusted her jeans as she sat on the hard plastic seat watching the bus shoot through traffic. Part of her wondering the entire trip how the bus drives didn’t get into an accident. It was borderline impressive.

“Morning Mags,” Mags turned to see a familiar blonde smiling at her.

“Hey, Sasha! What’s up?” Mags would describe Sasha more as an acquaintance than a friend, but Mags always puts on a smiling face. Like her brother says, it’s a lot better to spread happiness than make enemies.

After several minutes of casual small talk, Mags began to get the sense that there was something Sasha wanted to ask. There was something lingering in the girl’s eyes, and when the conversation began to die off, Sasha always kept it going. Mags knew something was up, and hoped it wasn’t about the stupid article. She was in no mood to deal with talking about how the bastard got her pregnant.

But sure enough, only a few moments later, Mags paranoia was proven right.

“So if you want, I’m having a big party...we’ll Christian my...boyfriend...is having a party at his place this Saturday, and I’d love to see you there...unless you know….it might be weird because...of the...whole pregnancy thing,” Mags took a deep breathe as it took every ounce of her sanity to not punch Sasha. Mags wasn’t Axl, she wasn’t him by a long shot. Unlike him she could control her temper, or atleast that is what she told herself.

“The pregnancy thing? Ohh you mean that bullshit article? Girl that was full of lies! What he chose not to mention was that I broke his heart because he wasn’t my type,” Mags let out a fake laugh to try to cover the lie that rolled off her tongue.

Was she going to admit she was pregnant to Sasha? No.

Was she going to admit that Drew, the man who wrote the article, shattered her heart into a million pieces? No.

Why? Because that’s not who Mags Adler was.

“Oh my god! The fucking bastard! I tell ya, the media only wants a story that sells their magazines. It’s despicable that they don’t think about how the lies they are telling are going to affect the people. Like I bet that Stef girl who is dating your brother never said how he wouldn’t make it. And oh that Del girl, I bet she does more than fawn over Duff and be his groupie. Like the girl has to have a life. I should have known this were off when the article framed Trixy as a good person. She is a fucking bitch,” Mags nodded and smiled as Sasha spoke.

The truth was Del really didn’t have much going for her besides the fact that she was in love with Duff. Of course Del had hobbies, but none that paid the bills which was a discussion for another day. Mags tried not to think of it, but Del was turning into a groupie. She quickly reassured herself that Del technically wasn’t a groupie Del wasn’t going around having sex with Duff, but little did she know what Del did last night and into the morning.

Part of Mags wondered if Stef actually said what she said. There were parts of the article that were true, but it was also filled with lies. Did she mean it when she said her brother was going now where? Mags knew with her whole heart that Stef adores Steven, but there was a small pit in her stomach that said otherwise. Mags tried connecting the dots on my Stef had been making excuses and events for Mags to go to that happened to be on the same days as concerts, but there wasn’t any connection. It just didn’t make sense.

“So I’ll see you on Saturday?” Sasha asked, pulling Mags from her train of thought.

“Maybe? My brother is playing a gig, but maybe after?” Mags offered the girl a soft smile as she saw her stop coming,

“Yeah, we will be partying till sunrise! Feel free to bring friends! Chriantian’s place is huge and there will be a live band!” Sasha smiled before Mags pulled the cord asking for the bus driver to stop.

It was only a 10 block walk for Mags, one she had gotten used to over the years. She kept her head high as she took in the peaceful strip. It was weird seeing it like this, but at 8 AM in the morning this was to be expected. Mags would admit that she appreciated the silence over the cat calls. She figured that one of the few benefits of being pregnant was that once she started to show she would get fewer cat calls.

Once inside the apartment, the smell of a cooking kitchen hit her like a truck. Eggs, onion, peppers, and paprika filled her nose causing a smile to grow on Mag’s face. Del was awake!

She froze as she saw the tall blonde over the stove instead of little Del.

“Hey Mags, how’s it going? Are those apples for breakfast?” Duff casually asked as he continued cooking, as if this was a normal occurrence. Mags placed the bag of apples on the table trying to make the confused look that grew on her features.

“What’s wrong Mags? Did you think those were oranges or something?” Mags shot her attention to Izzy who was sitting at the table. Mags wanted to slap the smirk off his face, but she knew that would only get her kicked out of the apartment, and if she was going to be kicked out it was going because she slapped Axl.

“Those are red apples to be exact,” Mags ignored Duff’s comment and placed the apples in the one of the few bowls that was at the apartment. It was a actually her bowl, but after a month of fruits rolling off the table, she figured they needed it more than her.

“Where is Del?” Mags asked quickly looking around the kitchen and their sad excuse for a common area.

“Still sleeping, she had a busy night,” Duff casually said, earning a snicker from Izzy.

Mags froze in place as she heard Duff’s comment.

“Did you fuck my roommate?” Duff was taken aback by Mag’s tone. She seemed agitated. What did she care? They were two consenting adults. Plus he would barely count Del as Mags roommate since she slept with him most nights.

“What does it matter-“ Mags cut Duff off before he could continue talking.

“I asked, did you fuck my roommate? It’s a yes or no question?”

“It’s none of your fucking business what I did between me and my grilfriend. Fun fact Mags, you can’t control everyone. Del isn’t your puppet,” Duff shot back, making sure to keep quiet so he wouldn’t wake Del.

In another room, Del remained frozen in Duff’s bed using his only blanket to hide her naked body. She tried to make sense of the emotions that were currently flowing through her.

Regret wasn’t the right word. She loved Duff, and from what she knew, she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

Pride was also wrong. She wasn’t proud of losing her virginity. It was something she was taught her entire life to protect and save until marriage. Having sex was sacred.

It wasn't that she wasn’t happy, but she also wasn’t sad. She possibly felt more content than happiness or sadness.

Shame, was another word that filled her head. Shame was the word that she felt right for her. She was ashamed that she had gotten so tipsy that she lost her virginity to the man she loved.

“Hey, you okay?” Del rolled over towards Slash as he spoke.

“Yeah...just trying to figure out how to get out of this pickle. I feel kinda…..”

“Gross?” Slash finished Del’s sentence earning a nod from the girl.

“I wouldn’t recommend putting your clothes from last night on, they’re probably still wet. I can grab a shirt from Duff’s stuff to help you cover up,” Del nodded at Slash’s kind offer, but before Slash could get up to help Duff walked into the room.

“And this is my cue to leave. I believe Duff has this under control,” Del shot Slash a quick smile as he headed out of the room to enjoy some breakfast. For the first time, Slash was kind to her. Usually he just existed in the room she was in and never truly interacted with her, but now...now he was kind.

Izzy’s words echoed through Duff’s head as he joined Del on his bed. He had to be slow and gentle with her.

“How are you feeling,” Duff played with her hair as he spoke, watching the curls bounce as he dropped them.

“I’m sore, and I feel gross,” this caught Duff off guard as a frown flashed across his face.

“Like you regret it,” Duff let a sigh escape him. Fuck, Izzy was right.

“No, I don’t regret it. I regret the fact that you don’t have a nice shower though,” Del teased back in attempt to make him smile. It worked, and she felt her heart flutter as a smile formed and she guided him gently ontop of her.

“Ohh is someone ready for round two?” A cocky smirk was placed across the bassist’s features as he hovered over Del.

Del let out a soft chuckle before shaking her head no.

“I’m still sore Duffles,” she cupped his chin as she watched a smirk cross his features. This was a view Duff would do anything to see. His small little Del, under him in full view.

“Did you...did you make breakfast?” Del asked, trying to change the scene that had unfolded in front of her.

“Yeah, and Mags brought apples,” Del smiled at the mention of Mags. It was good to hear that she left the apartment.

“How...how tense is it out there?”

“Well Steven is asleep, and Mags came in with a bitchy attitude so pretty tense?” Del was caught off guard by Duff’s tone. Del knew she should have said something, stand up for Mags but she remained silent. Something was wrong, and Del didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire.

“Is everything...okay?” Del asked as Duff climbed off her and dug through his bag and handed her on of his shirts. She knew he wasn’t mad at her, but she still wanted to know why he was pissed.

“Yeah,” Duff’s one world answer irked Del, but she quickly brushed it off.

“Come one Duffles, you can tell me anything,” Del quickly got out of bed and walked over towards Duff. As the words escaped her lips, she laced her fingers into his shoulder length hair.

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself Axl!” Del dropped her hand from Duff’s hair and snapped her attention towards the kitchen. She couldn’t see a thing since the door was closed, but she recognized who the screaming was coming from.

Del turned back towards Duff to see a scowl had formed on his face. In attempt to lighten the mood, she said “Mags knows that there is probably a line of people who are waiting for Axl to go fuck himself.”

This earned a small smile from the blonde and Del quickly got dressed in Duff’s shirt he handed her.

“Duff, can I borrow some shorts too?”

Del froze as Duff's laughter filled the room.

“I love you Delly, but my shorts are going to be a little too big on you,” Duff teased back, earning a playful eye roll from the girl. He wasn’t wrong, Del looked like a twig compared to Duff.

She threw Duff’s shirt on and followed him out to some breakfast. Her stomach rumbled as the smell of a freshly cooked breakfast drowned her senses.

“Good morning lovebirds!” Slash bellowed as Duff guided a slowly moving Del into the kitchen.

Izzy and Slash shared knowing looks as they watched how slowly Del was walking. They were defiantly going to tease Duff about this later, once Del wasn’t in the room.

Duff and Del sat down at the table joining the rest of the band minus Axl. Del figures he was probably in his room either lying on his bed or drawing in attempt to calm himself down. She wished there was something she could do to help, but she wasn’t in the position to do that at the moment.

“Thanks, Izz! It smells amazing,” Del said as Izzy placed a plate of eggs in front of her.

“Hey! I’m the one who made it!” Laughter echoed through the tiny apartment as Duff spoke.

“It tastes delicious,” Del said before kissing him on the cheek.

Axl was the last to join the group. He almost froze as he sat down as he saw Del at the table. Her hair was a curly mess that framed her features perfectly. To Axl, she looked like an angel in his shirt that she was practically swimming in. He had forgotten that he gave that old shirt to Duff a month or so ago, and now after seeing Del wear it part of him wished he had kept it.

Feeling Axl’s stare, and immediately misinterpreting it why he was staring, Del quickly spoke, “Ohh...I can..I can eat in another room..if you guys want to have a band meeting. I can go eat with Mags..wherever she went off to.” Del began to look around left and right to see where her friend went.

“Mags left. She just stopped by to drop off some food,” Del knew that Mags didn’t leave by choice. By the tone in Steven’s voice she knew that Mags was kicked out.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me now..like it or not,” Duff whispered into Del’s ear earning a sweet smile to cross her lips.

——————-

“Come on Beth, we are almost there and then you can take the blindfold off,” Mark said as he guided the blindfolded girl through the church basement. His heart was racing a million miles per a minute, and he couldn’t believe he was going to finally do it. He was going to propose to her. He felt giddy, excited, and nervous all at the same time. He had finally found the right moment to propose to her.

“It smells amazing! Are you sure we are still in the church?” Beth asked as Mark guided her to sit down.

“Yes, and you can take off your blindfold,” Mark couldn’t help, but smile as Beth remained silent as she took in the room.

The first thing she noticed was that the room was illuminated by candles instead of the ugly yellow lights that traditional illuminated the room. The second was the rose petals on the floor. The third wwas photos taped to the wall.

“5,110 days….that’s how long I’ve known you. We met when we were 5 years old. I am going to be honest, but I don’t remember much from back them. This though….this memory I will always remember,” Mark pointed at the first picture that he had tape in the wall only a few hours ago.

Beth let out a giggle as she stared at the photo. It was of Beth and Mark covered in flour. Their smiles were large as they posed for a photo which Beth assumes Mark’s mother took the photo since from what she remembered her own mother wasn’t to pleased with the situation at the time.

“It was in the middle of a small bible study, and we were being read from one of those children’s bibles with the large colorful photos. You wanted some cookies for a snack and after begging…..” Beth began to say.

“I didn’t beg!” Mark playfully shot back.

“No you begged because I remember Delilah teased you for a month about it!” Mark shook his head trying to hide his giggle at Beth’s comment, but she was right.

“Anyway, after you harassed the poor book reader he finally said you could go and grab some cookies from the kitchen, but you couldn’t go alone so I had to go with you. Anyway we ended up in the kitchen, but there were no cookies. So we decided to make some….and….” Beth couldn’t contain her laughter as the memories of how poorly their cooking went filled her head.

“I was grounded for a week,” Mark added smirking.

“A week? I was grounded for two months! Delilah and I couldn’t play because of it,” Beth playfully hit him as he spoke.

“I’m assuming I follow the rose petals?” Beth asked as she followed the rose petals towards the next photo. She smiled at the thought of celebrating her four month anniversary with Mark looking through old photos.

Mark nodded and they walked down the rose petal path looking at photos that ranged from their first day at school to after school activities.

“I still think you look good it Delilah’s hot pink tutu,” Beth said as they looked upon a picture taken from one of the talent shows.

“I think my rendition of the sugar plum fairy gave her cute little dance a run for its money,” Mark smiled as Beth’s laughter filled the room. They were just 12 years old when that photo was taken, and even back then he wore the tutu and jokingly danced around like a fool to make Beth laugh.

“Which one is your favorite?” Beth asked as they walked in front of the 12th photo.

“The last one,” Mark smiled as he purposely focused on the picture. If he looked at her he would cry because the last one was going to be a special memory.

“And which one is that?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Mark sneakily replied earning an eye roll from Beth.

The next photo was from their eight grade graduation. Beth, Delilah, Mark, and Matt were posing in front of the church holding their little diplomas in the air with the pride of a college graduates who had just earned their doctorates in advanced medicine.

“Do you remember how much of a fuss you were making because the cap flattened you hair,” Beth smiled as she pointed at the picture.

“Do you know how many photos my mother took that day? My brothers would still be making fun of me if I looked bad in those photos!”

“Ohh Mark...they make fun of you anyway,” Beth teased before she headed towards the next photo. It was from Halloween when they were 15.

“Do you remember when Delilah was told she couldn’t be Tinker Bell because Tinker Bell was inappropriate?” Beth asked as she looked at the photo.

“If I remember right it was because Tinkerbell promotes sin because she was a needy attention hog or something like that?”

“And how Delilah was so busy complaining that she forgot to tell her mother what she actually wanted to be for Halloween, so she went as a princess,” Mark couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of Delilah.

“Then Matt kept telling people she was the princess from the princess and the pea. How would warm the people who handed out candy that Delilah was cranky because she didn’t get a lot of sleep the night prior because of a pea under her mattress,” Mark and Beth’s laughter once again filled the room before heading onto the next photo.

After 20 more minutes of reminiscing on other photos, Mark guided Beth towards a room filled with even more flower petals and a candle. Beth smiled as the smell of roses engulfed the room. The small room had a table and some tables and chairs pushed against the walls with a large mirror in the center. Beth could tell that he tried to hide what the room actually was, but she recognized it. This is the room where Matt, Mark, Delilah, and her would hang out every day.

“Mark, I know you didn’t intend for this to be creepy, but I’m getting horror movie vibes,” Beth half joked as she looked around the room.

“Where is the photo?” Beth added while continuing to look around the room.

“Come,” he held both of Beth’s hands and stood in front of the mirror. Beth was hesitant, but let him guide her out of curiosity.

“Beth, from the moment I met you I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my days with you. Whether it was getting in trouble for attempting to make cookies or just spending time with you on that ugly floral couch, I love spending every moment with you. I feel like I can be my true self when I’m with you,” Mark felt the nerves come back as he spoke.

“I love you too,” Beth smiled as she squeezed his hands tight.

“Beth Marie Jacob,” Beth gasped as she watched him get down on one knee.

“This afternoon we reminisced over some of my favorite memories for every year I have known you,” Mark pauses as he watched tears of happiness slowly flow down Beth’s face.

“Will you make one more memory with me tonight?” Mark pulled out the small box he had kept in his pocket for the past month.

“Will you Beth Marie Jacob marry me?” Mark’s heart stopped as the words escaped his lips. A sliver of fear slipped into his thoughts that she would laugh at him or say no.

“Yes! Ohh God yes, I love you,” The tears now began to stream down her face as Mark put the ring on her finger, and kissed her.

“I love you too!” Mark spun her around causing her to fill the room with her giggles and screams of joy.

Once they let go of each other they turned and stared into the mirror.

“I think this is my favorite memory too,” Beth smiled as she continued to look at her and Mark.

Mark watched as a frown quickly formed on her face.

“What?” Mark pulled Beth in close attempting to comfort her.

“I just...I wish Delilah was here to share this memory with us,” Beth spoke no louder than a whisper.

In that moment, Mark kissed Beth’s forehead and made up his mind. He was going to go to Sunset Strip and bring Delilah home, no matter what.

#the dare fanfic #gnr fanfic #gnr fanfiction #gnr imagine #guns and roses fanfic #guns and roses imagine #guns and roses fanfiction #guns n’ roses imagin #guns n’ roses fanfic #guns n’ roses imagine #guns n’ roses fanfiction #duff mckagan / oc #duff mckagan imagine #duff mckagan fanfic #duff mckagan fanfiction #axl rose fic #axl rose fanfic #axl rose fanfiction #the dare

[siren1song]

enemies to lovers moxiety.

listen i know it doesn’t seem likely but hear me out

under a cut for mentions of religion, using religion to be hateful, and queerphobia

You’ve got your happy pappy patton!

but... not as you know him.

he’s religious, christian to be exact (id go with catholic but i grew up with christianity and only rly know how it works)

but see he grew up being spoon fed hateful rhetoric, so if he sees a rainbow he gets bitter that “the gays stole a holy symbol of God”

enter virgil. he’s punk, hes gay, hes trans, hes unafraid to stand up for what he believes in

patton leaves him alone, he thinks not starting a fight is being open minded, thinks not telling the loudest queer at pride who yells at the peaceful christian protesters that he’s going to hell is what it means to be kind

virgil finally notices that this guy he sees at every single protest is the psych major who also keeps fucking staring at him in the shared academic classes and he decides to confront him because dude if youre gay stand up for yourself?

patton is literally so offended at the indication that he’s gay and “fallen from God’s light” that he immediately doesn’t like virgil for more than the fact that he clearly doesn’t care about basic human decency

he tells virgil as such

virgil laughs in his face

“what, you think its being a decent human to tell people they’re going to get punished for loving someone?”

patton’s feathers are ruffled, he huffs, he’s ready to defend himself

“save it you clearly don’t care enough about the lives of people less privileged than you”

and he walks away

and patton is so angry he didn’t even get a chance to defend himself he immediately decides virgil is awful and he’s gonna go out of his way to combat him whenever he sees him at protests

the first time this decision is put into place is when virgil is bullying a preacher on campus.

the preacher is telling people they’ll go to hell if they don’t cleanse their souls of their sins, and virgil has a megaphone (did he steal that from the school?) and singing some vulgar song full of cuss words and anarchy.

patton feels righteous anger on behalf of the poor preacher who just wants to get His word out and he stands in front of virgil and he yanks the megaphone from his mouth.

virgil’s singing stutters to a stop as he looks down at patton in confusion, then rolls his eyes in exasperation.

he’s about to just go back to what he’s doing but patton pushes the megaphone back down.

“what happened to your “let people love themselves” rhetoric?”

virgil was planning on just leaving patton alone, but if he wanted to get into it, then who was he to turn down the ability to rant about queer lives mattering more than the word of some dude in the sky?

“let people love themselves without telling them they’ll be punished for doing so. im just trying to combat hate, buddy, you should try doing the same.”

patton glowers, virgil remains unimpressed.

“it’s not the fault of God they refuse to listen to what’s right. this man is just trying to help them see the light, and you’re making that kindness difficult to achieve!”

virgil scoffs, yanking his megaphone from patton’s grip.

“and im just singing some of my favorite songs in the same area. fuck outta here with that “kindness” bullshit, you clearly wouldn’t know kindness if it bit you in the ass.”

patton tells himself he’s not hurt by that, he prides himself on his kindness, he doesn’t need some... some satanist telling him lies.

(he’s really hurt by it. he cries when he gets to his dorm later. his roommate, Roman? avoids him. patton isn’t sure why.)

#casper writes #ts patton #ts virgil #moxiety #religion #queerphobia #punk virgil #trans virgil #<- not apparent yet but its there #ask to tag #i dont like where this ended #feels way too sudden #but i cant think of anything more rn :/ #hope people like this and actually want more lmao sdklfghldfj #if nobody is actually interested i might just. not finish it and give a not rambly run down of my ideas #if anyone asks what they are