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thoughts-of-ghanashyam · 2 years

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𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔦𝔫𝔫𝔢𝔯 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰

When I look into my quite turbulent past, there was hardly a more difficult aspect in my current life than to discover my own "goodness" and to develop an open-hearted self-love.

Especially on the streets, it is extremely difficult to develop love for others when you are always at the mercy of confrontations. In any case, in the past I was firmly convinced that hatred and violence really pursued me - no matter where I went, I was always provoked, looked at askance or physically attacked.

Accordingly, over time I also developed a corresponding attitude - and that although I was per se always a person who preferred to solve conflicts verbally and peacefully, rather than with violence. But when the going got tough - and that was the rule rather than the exception - I was not afraid to use it without compromise - after all, I had been trained in martial arts and knew how to "tackle" certain things. Paradoxically, I have subconsciously always waited for something to happen in this direction, even if my innermost actually resisted.

Similarly, with this development, a dark shadow developed in me, which took over me more and more over the years and caused a growing feeling of worthlessness and a not insignificant amount of self-hatred. Incidentally, this also affected my relationships, which always ended in minor or major disappointments or even disasters. Because the more the shadow grew, the more I tried to hold on to light moments of supposed love. But in the end, almost all of my relationships at that time were of a rather fleeting nature or had a thoroughly toxic character. In the process, I'm sure I hurt a few good souls myself, which in retrospect I'm very sorry about.

But the idea that I was both the receiver and sender of these emotions didn't even occur to me at the time. I was like a magnet that projected my inner attitude outward and attracted correspondingly pronounced equivalents. The classic cause-and-effect principle, also called karma, came into full play here. But instead of changing my attitude and the corresponding actions, I let myself be carried away further and further by this self-produced vortex of negativity.

Developing true love for all living beings

But how can one develop true love for others if one cannot truly love oneself and is always consumed by self-doubt? Even a conscious spiritual path will only be of limited help here if one is not prepared to recognize the good in oneself. I also had to experience this painfully on my own body and soul. Because although the encounter with my first spiritual master and the associated path of Sanatana Dharma and Bhakti Yoga certainly saved my life at that time, I began to understand many elementary aspects of self-love and "inner beauty" of beings only much later.

In general, many people today seem to find it very difficult to believe in their inner goodness and a "noble" character. I don't know where this tendency comes from, which is so extremely strong especially in the western society. Perhaps this is a hidden legacy of Christian original sin and the societies that grew out of it, that we tend to see ourselves as limited and pathetic personalities who are little more than vermin walking the earth!!!?

I really have no idea, but what is certain is that the seed of this attitude has been sown deep in the hearts of many people and is just waiting to germinate and sprout.

But wherever this tendency comes from, it has become so much a part of our flesh and blood that deep down we don't even know how to get along without it. And even if we are superficially convinced that we are self-confident and at peace with ourselves, nowadays a few negative comments on the Internet are enough to shake this supposed self-confidence, at the latest in lonely hours.

But what would happen if we could accept our basic innate goodness and dignity? What would happen if we realized that deep down we are not this fearful and limited being and that we are capable of much more than we might currently believe ourselves capable of? What would happen if we could escape the rampant cynicism in our world to see that we all possess an inner beauty, without exception? It would definitely change our lives radically. Wouldn't it?

Personally, I now firmly believe that this is possible, even if each of us must find our own personal path to freedom and holism.

Accept that there is suffering in this world

First of all, we must accept that there is suffering in the world and that it is inevitable - this includes our own suffering, whether it is shame, depression, fear, desire or hatred. However, nothing in the world has a permanent character, no matter how endless a suffering may seem to us.

The point, then, is to become aware of suffering where its roots lie: in the mind.

The difficulty lies in locating and discovering the roots of suffering without becoming attached to it and lost in it. Things are the way they are and that is how we should learn to accept them for ourselves. This does not mean that we should simply accept injustices of any kind or let malicious, unstable or even violent people hurt us. Quite the contrary. But that is not the point here. Because before we can understand others and their basic actions, we must first get to know ourselves. Because only if we recognize ourselves, we can also recognize the essence of all other beings. If we do not learn to recognize ourselves, our whole life will be like flying blind without instruments.

Discover who you really are - the inner heaven

But who are we actually? What defines us? As I have already written elsewhere, we are not our body and nothing with which we otherwise identify ourselves in our society. Everything we are, or what we think we are, originates in our mind. But what does our mind look like? How can we imagine it? Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, a master of Vajrayana Buddhism, scholar, poet and teacher once said:

"Our whole existence is fleeting like clouds in autumn; Birth and death of beings appear like movements in dance."

This image can also be applied very nicely to the nature, or rather the nature, of our minds. At least, I believe that this is so.

Heaven here stands for our pure awareness, our inner essence, our self, which exists detached from any influences and projections from the material outer world. Heaven is endless, pure and free from any boundaries.

The autumn clouds passing underneath the sky, the rain showers and storms, affect the environment, but the sky itself, remains completely unaffected. This active and constantly changing part is the discursive and analytical part of the mind - our ego. It determines, conditioned by mutual projections from the outside world, what we "want to have or not to have" and is the source of our cognition, self-view as well as of all emotions, which in turn condition our actions. This part of the mind is erratic, grasping, distracting, confusing and constantly in motion - even when we are asleep.

The great spiritual master and guru Ramana Maharshi described this context as follows:

"There is no duality. Its present cognition is based on the ego and is only relative. Such cognition requires a subject and an object, whereas awareness of the Self is absolute and requires no object."

So if we focus exclusively on the storms and clouds and let them carry us away, this can steer us into abysses from which we may never be able to get out. Such a path can, in the worst case, cause us to develop consistently negative to evil traits and deny us a view of heaven for a lifetime or beyond.

If, on the other hand, we learn, at least from time to time, to be able to take a look at the endless sky, this will also help us to uncover our actual "inner goodness" piece by piece. The more we succeed in this, the more we recognize the boundless beauty in ourselves - and with a little practice also that in every other living being. Because in the end we are all inseparably connected with all living beings of this world.

The sun behind the clouds

Speaking of sky and clouds - where has the sun gone in this effigy? I am truly no philosopher and even less I am a spiritual master. Accordingly, my thoughts and lines are certainly anything but perfect - apart from the fact that there is no perfection in the material world. But within the framework of my humble and simple thoughts, I believe that the sun shines in every "inner sky"...no matter how many autumn clouds darken the sky - whether by day or by night.

Just as the sky remains untouched by the clouds and storms, so does the sun. Sun and sky are always existent and interwoven with each other, but without a clear touch. Despite everything, the sun is THE central point in our small universe. Its rays and particles touch everything earthly and supernatural. It stands for the Absolute Truth and is the source of all life.

Buddhists would call it most likely the Buddha nature. Hindus as Vishnu, Brahman or Krishna, Christians as God and Muslims as Allah. But even as an atheist, one will come to a point where one cannot deny an absolute truth that pervades and determines our existence in one way or another.

The way to recognize the inner beauty and goodness would be to cultivate the ability to look through the autumn clouds to the endless sky.

Of course, this is not an easy path, and unfortunately there is no shortcut - at least I haven't found one...I am still in the middle of the path myself and therefore still relatively at the beginning. But as the saying goes, "the path is the goal" and this requires quite a bit of courage...because nothing can have as many abysmal depths as the supposed self.

A fundamental key is to develop equanimity and mindfulness...for oneself and for one's environment.

Meditation is the key

Meditation can be a great support in this, observing said clouds and storms. First from a distance, then bit by bit up close and then from changing perspectives. First we greet them, then we get to know them, then we accept them and at some point we let them move on. In these moments we will always have a brief glimpse of the endless sky.

What sounds so abstract becomes easier each time, even if it seems almost impossible at first. But with the awareness that the sky is always present behind the clouds and that the warming sun is also there, makes this process more bearable.

Which kind of meditation is the right one, every person has to find out for himself.

I myself explore my heaven (mind) with the help of Metta and Vipassana meditation, among view other things. On this way I learn bit by bit to develop more love and compassion for others as well as for myself. At the same time the Vipassana practice helps me to overcome the suffering (Dukkha) caused by "not seeing" (Avija) and delusion (Kilesa).

On the other hand, I cultivate the contact to the all-pervading sun with Bhakti Yoga and my love for Krishna. But this is only my modest and very personal way. As I said, every person has to find his own way.

More spiritual science than religion

It does not need any religious affiliation to discover the inner beauty and goodness, because especially the Buddhist spiritual training works detached from such aspects. But also the classical Vedic wisdoms and the path of Sanatana Dharma see themselves more as spiritual science than a classical religious culture, because the search for oneself is nothing else than the search for God and vice versa.

Help for these paths is available in various meditation centers as well as in Hindu or Buddhist temples. Many offers are free of charge or on donation basis, so that one has nothing to lose, but much to gain.

Be brave and discover your inner goodness

So be brave and take the first step to discover your self and your inner beauty.

There is a beautiful quote about this from Thomas Merton, a former Trappist, writer and mystic:

"Then I felt as if I suddenly saw the secret beauty of their heart, the whole depth of their heart into which never a ray of sin, of desire, of self-assurance reaches, the core of their reality, the man each is in the face of the Divine. If only they could see themselves as they really are. If only we could always see each other in this way. Then there would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed.... I suppose then our biggest problem would be that we would all fall on our knees before each other and worship each other."

Thank you for your attention - may all beings experience happiness - including yourself.

Om Tat Sat.

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howtoliveinparis · 2 years

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Christian Kinnersley

What is there to say about this one... Obsessed with being ”the alpha”, and this character he believes himself to be. Narcissistic and selfish beyond comprehension. A consummate egomaniac, and an extreme male superiority complex that gives him a belief that woman (and all men) are inferior. His intense resentment towards women might also be the reason he can’t connect with any. Despite the extreme ego, he is so obsessed with praise he seeks attention by posting photos and videos of his penis on Reddit, and waits with anticipation for comments. Even though he knows it’s mostly men who like and comment, praise is everything to him. A virgin, who never had a relationship for the first 26 years of his life, probably because most women can tell what a loathsome person he is, he is unable to make a connection with someone in real life, so he finds sexual relationships on Reddit, where they can exist completely online. According to him he spent all of his Oxford years masturbating on Skype for random people online. I couldn’t invent such a cautionary tale.

A cautionary tale none the less. I would begin what would be a long years. It would forever change my ability to love and trust another person.

Believing that people are inherently good has always been my downfall. I didn’t even realize I did that until I started noticing the motley group of characters on this blog. This is a cautionary blog so of course the people I mention are the worst of the worst of what I encounter. But what makes this story so despairing is that it came from someone I loved and trusted implicitly. Someone I would have given my life for, only to find out later that I didn’t know that person at all.

In fact I don’t even know if that person really existed. That’s the worst; being unable to believe your own reality, and questioning everything you thought you knew. Nothing is what it seems with him. He lies so much you never know what the truth is. He has so many versions of himself, but no one sees the whole person. He kept things from his twin. He doesn’t open up to his ”friends”. It’s hard to trust anything he says when no one knows the real him. I’ve never met anyone who lies so easily. I tried very hard, and probably got the closest to knowing him, but when someone is so dishonest what is the reality?

Emotional abuse is subtle. It doesn’t look like physical abuse. It differs from person to person. But the manipulation, the games, the stonewalling, the hot and cold, and withholding of affection and attention, all hurt as much as physical abuse. Your mental state is forever fractured and it’s hard to come back from. You’re forever changed from the toll it takes on you. Your relationships will never be the same because you’ve been hurt and manipulated by the one person who was meant not to hurt you.

They tell you things like “I’m just winding you up” when something hurts so it never comes off as intentional. It’s always “constructive”. “I would love you more” if you did this. Love always comes with conditions. “Maybe if you didn’t act that way”. “Maybe if you were better behaved I could see a future with you”. “If you were skinnier, I could love you more”. “If you were more attractive, you could be good enough for me”. I was apparently not as attractive as what he ‘deserved’ but he would always force me into having sex, despite me telling him very clearly “no”. All of these head games cause you to go crazy. Everything is under the guise that they are trying to “make you better” (so you can be good enough for them). Your self-esteem is slowly stripped away until you’re a shell of your former self. I am a strong person, who isn’t afraid to call anyone out, but after a year I was worn down. I was constantly questioning myself and my worth, which is not something that had crossed my mind before.

One Thanksgiving at a restaurant, I don’t remember how or why, but that night he took an interest in the way I held my knife and fork. We had been dating for months, but on this particular night he decided to scold and ridicule me. “My mother would think you were low class”. On and on it went that I wasn’t posh enough for him. I wouldn’t fit in with “his set”, and his friends. His twin, whose opinion consumes him, would think less of him if he ever met me. I wasn’t good enough for him, and he wasn’t sure I ever would be. Before I met him I had never had anyone imply I was an unworthy person, I didn’t have self doubt, I never questioned myself, but he never let me believe otherwise. I ended up spending the rest of dinner in the toilettes crying.

As it happens Americans hold their dinnerware differently. It’s a cultural difference. But that never changed how he treated me. He hates Americans (this apparently stemmed from his time at BlackRock), and according to him all Americans are beneath him. He is a terribly aspirational snob. His last name should be Middleton. He obsesses over class. He is so concerned with appearances, and what people think of him, especially what his twin and his twin’s girlfriend would think, it’s all he cares about.

He has some bizarre, perverse relationship with his brother Henry, and Henry’s girlfriend Rebecca Pearce. It’s like they’re in a threesome relationship together. She hated me from the start, despite me having never met her. I’ve never understood insecure women who hate other women for no other reason than their own insecurity and immaturity. They’re not allies. They’re anti-feminist and work to enable the patriarchy. She used to call me “Anfisa” (a Russian bride from 90 Day Fiancé) which I never understood, but insecurity breeds jealousy. I get it. I’ve heard that it happens to those kinds of women, the Kate Middletons of the world. I used to call her Christian’s Sister Wife because she instigated herself far too much in our affairs, business in my opinion that was not her’s. The extreme jealousy she had for someone she had never met led me to believe she had feelings for Christian, or that Christian wasn’t allowed to have a girlfriend that wasn’t her. His obsession with them, and the whole dynamic they have is all so very strange. I have never encountered an incestuous/jealous twin relationship before so I can’t understand it (and I’m a twin), but their opinion controls every aspect and decision in his life. He is obsessed with what they think of him.

And of course how he looks to others. Every move he makes is based on “how will others perceive me?, and “how can I be better than everyone else?”. It sounds at odds with being a narcissist, but thinking you’re better than everyone, and being obsessed with what others think of you, go hand in hand. He is a narcissist, who is extremely insecure, with a superiority complex. He should be more humble, considering his many, many failings both looks wise and in the bedroom, and his disgusting hygiene habits which includes bathing just once a week, but alas his sense of self does not match the reality.

Every relationship with another person is a game to him. He thinks everything is a competition. He needs to have the upper hand in every relationship. In this case it was always ‘I’m the best, this further proves my dominance’.

And that’s what it was; Domination. He loved being dominant. Over everyone. He’s a tyrant. He was a bully in grammar school, and got kicked out of school for it (lucky for him Oxford accepted him before he was expelled), and 10 years later he’s still a bully. To be on his good side you have to become subservient to him. You can never challenge him. You have to always give in. He always has to be in charge. In every dynamic he has to be the one holding the power. If he isn’t, he acts like a child and pouts until he gets his way. Or he’ll write you off altogether. It’s petulant, but not at all out of character for someone who crafts their world so they are the center of it. I have never met a smaller minded and less well rounded person before. It amazes me that at 26 someone can still be so immature.

Everyone at work was always a problem. He was always in trouble or being reprimanded by HR. There were always issues with his bosses or coworkers because no one is as smart as he is. He’s the best at everything. He was the only one who knew what he was doing. You should never question him. He was never wrong.

He went to Oxford, he studied PPE, to him that meant he was the ‘elite’ (despite being quite uneducated and ignorant). It is quite sad when someone peaks at such a young age, and can’t move on from their “glory days”. He used to send me articles, constantly bragging (he is an unabashed braggart), about how PPE graduates run the country (UK) and how special Grammar school boys are. In his mind he is actually even more elite than his peers at Oxford because he’s the “alpha”. According to him he is smarter, better, greater than everyone. There is no one whom he respects or admires because no one is on his level. According to him he grew up with a weak father, so every male that isn’t him is a “beta”.

And all women are ‘dumb bitches’. They deserve to be paid less because they are not good enough to do what men can. Especially in the world of finance, which he inhabits. A woman’s only use is to be a secretary. They don’t have the mental capabilities, and only got work, because they filled the ‘woman quota’. That’s his excuse for why any woman has a top job anywhere.

“Women are too emotional and crazy”. His relationship with his mother is the reason for his extreme resentment towards women. She called the police on him for hitting her, and had him thrown in jail for a domestic when he was 17 so his hate for women runs deep. Every time I did something he didn’t like I was “acting just like my mother”. She really did a number on him because his lack of respect, and belief that women are inferior, is nothing I have encountered before. There is a theory that men are inherently afraid of women, and have vilified women for centuries because they are afraid of our “power”. They seek to take down strong women because they’re targets. Put in that context it makes his attraction to strong women seem even more nefarious. He often jokes about what would happen if he ever has daughters (no doubt loads of emotional issues and therapy hours is what they'll end up with), he jokes about disowning them, shipping them away, or abandoning them and their mother because girls are weak and having girls would be the ultimate sin. His hatred for women is one step from Incel, so asking for respect from him was probably too much of an ask.

At work he would get into trouble constantly. There were always issues. “I do what I want” is his daily mantra. He refuses to do anything that anyone else asks of him; showing up on time, stop wearing trainers, wear suits, simple little things, that shouldn’t have been a battle, always were. He cannot, or outright refuses, to change himself. Even if it comes at the detriment of his career, or his relationships with other people. No one is as clever as him, so he doesn’t respect anyone and therefore doesn’t need to change.

And the selfishness. He must have been raised by a family of wolves, at least that’s how I justified it because only awful people could in turn raise someone so awful. His character lacks decent kindness, or any virtues for that matter. He isn’t capable of caring about a single person but himself.

An example, his birthday is December 13th, so it was always kind of a combined birthday/Christmas holiday each year. He refused to spend that time with me because he always chose football and skiing, but I am big on birthdays and holidays, so for our first year I decorated with banners and balloons. He then used them to decorate his mother’s house for his twin brother’s birthday. I wasn’t allowed to spend his birthday with him, but he could recycle my thoughtfulness for his family’s needs.

I got him a cake, champagne, and all of his favorite foods. I had a hamper from Fortnum & Mason delivered to his work on the day of his birthday. I bought him all of his favorite things; Adidas trainers, a jumper, Calvin Klein boxers, and a bunch of stuff from Barbour. I wanted him to have lots of presents because I wasn’t there in person and I wanted him to feel special. Everything I bought him was to ensure he was warm, dry, and taken care of during a London winter. In turn he got me an umbrella. The next year I bought him a bunch of warm clothes, a huge vintage map of Paris, and a smaller one of the Marais, because he’d always wanted them. He got me a card. That he filled out while I was in the shower a few days after because he couldn’t be bothered. He then spent £400 mounting the map of Paris to hang in his living room.

It wasn’t the material things, I bought him things because I genuinely enjoy spoiling the people I care about. The material didn’t matter, what bothered me was the fact that he honestly cannot think of anyone but himself. How hard is it to write something thoughtful in a card? He really is the only person that matters. I was someone that he claims to have “really loved”, but even I wasn’t immune. Respect, selflessness, consideration for others, these are not a part of his character. He lacks any ability whatsoever to see past himself, and his own needs and desires. His excuse would be “I’m bad at buying gifts for people”, and that would be the end of the discussion. He couldn’t even fake it just to make someone else happy. Like everything else when it comes to him, he is too obstinate to change. His arrogance leads him to believe he has no faults, so in his mind he’s “perfect” as is.

Unfortunately all of these traits laid the groundwork for psychological abuse. Dominance didn’t just occur in work relationships, and social relationships, it occurred in personal relationships. There was always some excuse for how things were my fault, even when they clearly weren't. I was never good enough, but after he hurt me I was always “great”. It was a constant back and forth of manipulation. I was always wrong, but it wasn’t “me”. He would say something but I wasn’t hearing him in the manner he meant it. I was “amazing”, but not good enough for him. I am someone who works at things, who wants to understand, who is always looking for ways to better myself, or finding ways for compromise, but I always failed with him. He is the only person who can win. He is the only person who is right. His way is the only way.

I can’t even explain to you what this does to someone’s psyche. There was always gaslighting of the truth and reality. Always an excuse for why something was never his fault. And always the fallback when he couldn’t explain it away “I’m never going to change so deal with it”. It’s a pertinacity against personal growth that is immature and pigheaded. And when he couldn’t win an argument, he’d just ignore you. He couldn’t be wrong if it didn’t exist. It is so unbelievably childish I still can’t understand how a grown and “educated” man acts that way. Like a child he will throw a strop until he gets his way. If that doesn’t work he will take his attention away until you do what he wants (I’ve seen him do it with his friends and bosses too). Every relationship for him is a chance for manipulation.

I don’t think I will ever come back from the toll this relationship took. I have a long road of hard work ahead. I’m sure it will be a lot of therapy, and if I ever find someone whom I connect with again, it will take a lot of patience and understanding, because trust will not be something I give away freely. How do you trust anyone after something like that? How do you believe anything anyone says?

I still love him very much. I miss him everyday, but I cannot understand this situation. I am confused by all of it, and trying to understand it makes the pain worse. I see the traits; domineering, tyrannical, manipulative, arrogant, narcissistic, misogynistic, controlling, selfish, and I understand how they come together to make the whole, but I can’t rationalize it with the person I want to believe I knew.

Apparently all of this is normal. It is not something that is easily explained. Emotional abuse is confusing because it comes from someone who says they love and care about you. But abusers always say that when they are abusing you, as if that makes it okay. Well after two years of emotional abuse, I am not okay.

🕂🕂🕂🕂🕂🕂🕂🕂🕂🕂🕂🕂

Immediately after writing this story he contacted me and was angry about the post. He spent three hours manipulating me, gaslighting me, guilting me, and being the kindest he’s been in a long time. He was sweet, he kept calling me “baby”, and suddenly we were the best of friends again. I felt bad for upsetting him. I felt guilty because he said I was hurting him. I didn’t want him to hate me. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything would be okay.

But he wanted something from me.

He’s so used to asserting his will, or putting on his “charming” act as he calls it, to get his way, when I didn't do what he wanted, he punished me for it. The pain I felt from that is something I can’t even describe. You’re hopeless, and it feels like it can never end, but you want to do anything to make it stop. I would rather shut down to people for the rest of my life than risk having another human being inflict that on me again.

I wrote this as a means of healing. Reading these things was meant to remind me that I wasn’t losing something valuable, no matter how much it hurt me not to have him there. And sometimes it is healing to write what you are feeling. Even if that only lasts for a short moment.

What you leave behind isn’t just pain but absence. A supreme blankness that triumphs over everything else.

I have spent the last month questioning the legitimacy of something, and someone, I used to have complete trust in. Until you’re in that position you have no idea how much it pushes you to the breaking point. There were moments were I felt, and still feel, like I am having a mental breakdown. I have always thought of myself as resilient and strong, and able to handle anything that life throws at me because up until now I have, but the overwhelming despair and sadness is something I cannot cope with. I constantly feel like I am a broken person now and I can’t see a light at the end of this. Nothing in life has ever beaten me, but this has completely demolished me. I don’t have the strength to get back up. I am defeated.

I also hoped that I would find solace in letting other’s know that they are not alone. I believe that the #MeToo movement has gone a long way in helping woman understand situations that cause them permanent damage. There is power in numbers, and I believe it helps to hear other people’s stories and know we aren’t alone. There is someone else who has gone through what you have, and it doesn’t make you any less of a person. There is no shame in someone hurting you.

As you can see he and I had a relationship that was only ever one sided. I had no one else. He was the only person I could turn to during our time together. Any time I tried to leave the relationship I couldn’t. According to him “I needed him”, “he was the only one who cared about me”, he couldn’t “lose me”. He would guilt me. He wouldn’t let me go more than a day without him. If I turned off iMessage to avoid speaking to him, he would hunt me down on every form of social media until I answered him. I am stubborn, and I will always try everything to make something work. I always caved because I couldn’t stand to see him in pain, and I wanted to believe him. I wanted to work on it.

When I try to look at our relationship objectively I can see what an awful person he is. Now that I no longer have anything to lose, I can see the manipulation tactics he employs. “But you say you want us to hang out together still”, like a carrot to get me to do what he wants. His attention is worthless to me now. It can no longer be held over my head. I no longer have to please him.

After reading this post, he has accused me of “doing criminal” things by writing it. Unfortunately for him there are text messages proving everything I wrote. I don’t lie. I don’t fabricate. And of course when I failed to give in to his demands, he grew even angrier. He uses so many abusive techniques to get what he wants, it amazes me how he can pretend to be blind to his manipulation tactics. Or perhaps that’s his game. He’s always lying to get what he wants. Of course he becomes irate when it stops working. His sociopathic tendencies really are on another level.

The truth is I never wanted to hurt him. I cared about him deeply. I would have done anything, and would give anything, to have him with me. From my point of view he was someone I loved very much. I had never loved anyone as much before. I made him my whole world (and in turn he destroyed it). He was my best friend, my confidante, he was the closest I have ever been to another person, and I was under the impression that we meant more to each other. I certainly never envisioned living a life without him. It hurts to lose my best friend more than I can ever write in words.

I am not a malicious person. I don’t set out to hurt people. I am very conscious of how my actions can affect others. I still feel shame and guilt when he says that I am hurting him. It’s stupid, I know, because he certainly never thought twice about hurting me. I wanted him to acknowledge what he did, but my feelings never even came up. It was all about him. If he bothered to look outside himself, or think about anyone but himself, he might see a person in love who is tortured. Instead he is so self-involved he thinks that I am out to get him. Everything is about him.

My intention with this post was to heal. I still cannot make sense of this, and I can’t understand how it went so wrong. How does someone turn on and off so easily? Who was that person I knew in the beginning? Did I imagine him? It’s probably my naive hope that people are good that I rationalize it by thinking I knew two different people. Especially when that person tells you over and over again that they don’t want to hurt you, and they “care about you”, and they “love you very much”. Why lie? I only knew one person, and he manipulated, and lied about everything, and he feels absolutely no remorse.

After the last conversation I had with him, it is clear that he can only see himself as the victim. He asserts that I am “weak and cannot move on”, and it is “unhealthy” to pay so much attention to this situation. He “has moved on and he will never look back, and I need to do the same”. He says he has met someone new who has read my post and “this isn’t a good use of my life”. I won’t even get into how selfish it is to flagrantly break lockdown to hunt for a new victim. Dalmore should really look into all of those “sick” days he scams them out of. I find it completely absurd that I was never allowed to leave the relationship, but now I’m painted as “psychotic” because I have thoughts on a relationship, and a person, that tore me apart. I wish I could snap my fingers and make all of this go away but alas I wasn’t the abuser.

There was a quote in “Dead Like Me” that I found very apropo. The son tells his mother “it’s not my fault she’s crazy” after his ex-girlfriend spray paints the family’s garage, and Christina Applegate retorts “ She is not crazy. You treated her like shit, so she was driven crazy,”. I know this is a hard concept for some people to understand but your actions profoundly affect others. Even if you can’t believe they do, listen to people when they tell you they have. Be an adult and take accountability for your actions. It’s simple.

To consistently abuse someone for years, belittle them after they tell you how you’ve hurt them, and then weaponize your new relationship by throwing it in their face that after one month you’ve easily moved on, and they’re pathetic for being unable to? Imagine being so tone deaf. Imagine being so cruel. There is something sinister that runs deep through him. I used to think he was just selfish, but it’s so much more than that. He is a disgusting, garbage human being.

Unfortunately I don’t have the ability to move past this yet. I was the unlucky one who was on the receiving end of his abuse and manipulation. I am unfortunate to not be able to move on so quickly. The damage he has done is something that will take years of work to try to undue, if it can ever be undone. He destroyed me, but has the cheek to say ‘walk it off’? He’s an insensitive, egocentric prick.

The truth is, if someone really loved you they would never treat you like that.

All I hope anyone can take from this is that people don’t change. You can try to explain to them how hurt you are, but they don’t care. Especially people as narcissistic as he is. No matter how much you tell them “you hurt me”, they are never going to feel the pain that they inflicted on you. And in this case they will paint themselves as the victim. He cares so much more about what people will think about him, than about the pain he put someone through, it’s disgusting.

I shouldn’t be surprised by the outcome. Abusers will always find a way to blame you. They are incapable of accepting that they are abusive. Or in this case, they simply don’t care. As someone who takes accountability for my wrongs, self reflects constantly, and consistently works to change my bad behaviors, it is something I am still having trouble accepting. But people this horrid aren’t capable of self-reflection, if they were they wouldn’t be such terrible people.

I so badly wished he would realize his wrongs, make the changes, and run off into the sunset with me. But he can’t acknowledge the damage he has caused. It’s all about him. He’s not capable of holding himself accountable. At the end of our relationship I begged him to try couple’s therapy, when he refused I asked him to seek much needed therapy on his own. I really felt that he could benefit by talking to someone. But he doesn’t believe in therapy. I desperately wanted this to work. There were moments in our relationship where it seemed great, and I thought it just needed a bit of work to have those times more often.

Unfortunately life isn’t a romcom. The wanker doesn’t figure out being an asshole is really bad and changes for the girl. You don’t live happily ever after. The Beast doesn’t become the Prince.

As women we need to shirk off the idea that if we just love someone enough they’ll change. We are engineered to be okay with “potential” and not with what is right in front of us. We think if we show them affection, patience, understanding, forgiveness, compassion, and warmth they will turn into someone who will love us as much as we love them. He had never had a relationship before, he had never experienced affection and love, I used to think that if I was just patient it would all work out.

That is not the case. Love cannot change anyone. Especially someone who “doesn’t need a relationship” and doesn’t care about love. I am aware that sociopaths exist, but I had never dated one before. Patience and understanding will not change that type of person. They will use you for everything that you have, they will take everything you can give, give you nothing in return, and then leave you depleted and broken.

I wish I had something more profound to say, but after a month I am still nowhere near able to make sense of this. I wish I could understand. I certainly tried hard to understand. I blame myself for letting this happen. I feel stupid for believing anything he said, and for thinking a good person could exist in him, when I could see one didn’t. I constantly made excuses for him. I tried to rationalize every bad thing he ever did. I let things slide because I told myself “this is new to him”. And worse I feel dumb for wishing we could go back to those happy times we had together.

I don’t like being angry. I don’t like the person I was in the post above, attacking someone that I loved and would have given my life for. I don’t like carrying around this hurt that is consuming me. I keep hoping one day there will be forgiveness, and we’ll hang out together in Austin and London.

But it’s a pipe dream. It will never happen. Maybe I am weak because I am willing to forgive too easily. Possessing empathy makes me a weak person. But I think what makes me so willing to is the fact that he is the only person I have ever been that close to and I didn’t want to lose that. I waited so long to find that, and the thought of finding that again seems unrealistic. When we met it was an instant spark. A banter that was so easy and so forthcoming. A meeting where everything just clicked into place. It was comfortable, and natural, and flowed effortlessly. I had never had that before. I thought I had found my other half. When you finally find that, you’ll do anything to not lose it.

But thinking that also clouds your judgement. His behavior over the last month has been particularly vile, callous, and cruel, and doesn’t deserve forgiveness. He’s actually become an even worse and crueler person. I need to remind myself constantly that he’s not my friend. I’m not sure he ever was. I want so badly to believe people are good. I want to believe people can learn. But I was just an easy target for him to prey on. What he got from consistently using me, lying to me, and hurting me I will never understand. I need to accept that. I am trying to understand the psychology behind abuse so I can heal, while dealing with this huge hole in my life where a person once took up so much space, and I am failing.

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I never considered this because I have never considered myself that kind of person but he gave me an eating disorder. For almost two years he told me I wasn’t skinny enough for him. He would constantly look at old photos of me when I was 53kg (which is what I consider an unhealthy weight as a result of a stressful period), and he would tell me that he wished he could have dated that version of me. His ideal woman is Emily Ratjakowski, who is someone I consider anorexic, and would never want to look like. After so many months of being told I wasn’t enough, I wanted to please him. He would tell me “if you were skinner, I could marry you”. I knew that I had to do it in order to please him. He made me hate my body, which I never did before. I began allowing myself only 1000 calories a day. If I had eaten that, and I was still hungry, I wouldn’t allow myself food. I also had to make sure I burned off all of those calories each day. I was obsessed with it. He would ask me to screenshot my daily steps to make sure I was doing them. Oddly enough when we broke up I didn’t eat for weeks and I ended up losing 30lbs. How happy that would have made him.

Thankfully I now recognize how unhealthy orthorexia (counting calories) is. It leads to an unhealthy relationship with food. I still count calories, it’s something that sticks with you I suppose, but I try to no longer care about “going into the red”. I struggle with it constantly. I sometimes don't allow myself food. I know it's bad, but I also can't help myself.

It’s another layer of the ramifications of what this relationship did to me. Throughout our relationship he would tell me all of the time I was not social enough for him, and I was never allowed in London because I would “embarrass” him, and I wouldn’t fit in because he’s such a social person. I’m a homebody who prefers my own company, and according to him his friends would think I was weird, and they wouldn’t accept me for this. I would reflect badly on him.

I am currently working in America. It’s strange to me because I was told for so long that something was wrong with me for being an introvert. But I make friends easily. Despite the fact that I always knew I was someone that people were easily drawn to, I was constantly told for years that I wasn’t enough. It’s a juxtaposition that I find hard to understand. It's a constant mindfuck.

Among other things, we broke up in October of 2019. From the period of October 2019 to May 2020 our relationship was off and on. We never went 24 hours without speaking to each other, but we had been fighting since July as that’s when he came to Paris less and less because he wanted to vacation with friends during the summer. We barely got to see each other as it was and I resented him for that. I felt less affection and attraction to him as a result.

Despite our breakup in October he would beg me to come to Paris. We would fight the Thursday before because, while I still loved him, and always wanted to see him, another part of me would have to hear his arguments about the future of our relationship, and I felt it wasn’t right for him to come. He would always accuse me of manipulation, and making him waste money on tickets, but it was a fair argument in my eyes. I wanted to see him, but I wanted to hear him when he said he had reservations about continuing our relationship.

It didn’t matter because he always came. I wasn’t allowed to go to London, but he was allowed to come to Paris and stay at my apartment whenever he felt like it. Which was pretty much often because he was always trying to escape his London life. Paris was where he could be himself, and he always found an excuse to come.

Every time I told him beforehand; if you come you can’t touch me. I don’t want to have sex with you. Which is honestly how I felt. The back and forth was too much. He was constantly telling me he was confused and he didn’t know how to rationalize the feelings he had for me with what he thought about his future. If I tried to stop speaking to him, but he would force himself into my life by contacting me on every form of social media until I answered him. It made me extremely confused.

But he would show up, and the first thing he would do was try to hug me. I would always push him away, but then he would start trying to kiss me. Usually it would stop by us going to dinner. He hates PDA so he would never do it in public. When we would get ready for bed he’d again start trying to be physical. I would tell him you have to sleep on the floor, which was always our means of compromise for him to come to Paris. But he would start trying to touch me and eventually he’d put his fingers in me, which I always hated. It felt like he knew he would get his way as long as he put his fingers in me. Usually I’d be able to keep my legs shut but he would force his way in, and eventually we would have sex. Of course after he would go to the floor.

Every time I voiced how much I hated that he did that afterwards, he would always say “well you got wet so you wanted it” or “you needed to get fucked so you’d stop being a bitch”. Because in his eyes every woman is a bitch because she’s not getting “fucked properly”. And every time was the same, after he got what he wanted he’d go back to being unaffectionate and cold.

I’ve never said this before because I feel like it paints our relationship in an unfavorable light. The truth is there are layers upon layers of stories that show the emotional abuse that occurred during our relationship. I am still trying to unpack them. If I bring any of it up I am accused of lying. Or Christian and his family will paint me as a 'bitter ex'. The text messages are there. I didn’t make it up. We clearly discussed it amongst each other over the course of months. They’re not lies I fabricated because according to him “we had a bad breakup”. I am tired of him trying to force me into believing that none of it happened.

Every time I think I’ve come to terms with this relationship, I realize that I haven’t. I can’t emotionally connect to people, especially men who I have no respect or regard for, which is turning into a loneliness I can’t bear. I want so badly to be in a relationship, and have that partner that I always dreamed of, and that love, and that best friend that everyone else seems to have so easily, but I can’t. I used to have it. But it's gone. It makes living unbearable. I will forever have him there reminding me, haunting me, a scar I can’t get rid of. He takes up so much space in my mind on a daily basis that it feels like I will never be rid of him. And I am still trying to gain the confidence that he stole from me back.

This is turning into a very long struggle, which seems to be an extremely, unfairly high price to have paid for loving someone.

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I am aware of the lies Christian has written about me on his “blog”. I don’t know how someone lies so matter of factly. Do you just not have a conscience? Is there nothing in you that feels bad for being untruthful? But I suppose one will say anything to make themselves look better. The text messages, he wrote, plainly show he’s lying, and yet he can, with a straight face, tell you the sky is green, and the grass is blue. It boggles my mind. I don’t understand it. I really believe it is mental illness.

Most of his allegations imply criminality, which if they were true, would produce legal repercussions. Let’s not pretend he cares about me, or that he’s doing me any favors by not running to the police. He already has.

I take offense to the things he wrote. He makes me sound like a criminal. That he could say those things with a straight face… I don’t lie, and because of that I am someone who does not like being called a liar. The more I am pushed, the more I reveal. My sense of justice is just too strong.

I don’t know what else I could have done in our relationship. I put him over me time and time again. I tried to give him everything he wanted. I sacrificed. I would have done anything for him. I would have given my life for him. It wasn’t enough.

How much can one person take from you before it’s enough? He ruined my life, and that’s still not enough for him. He wants me to pretend like he didn’t do any of the things that he did. What he did to me during the course of our relationship was awful. He has inflicted so much permanent and lasting damage, and then he tried to gaslight me into believing he did nothing wrong. He manipulated me. For a time it worked. But then he revealed himself.

I am not going to pretend that this relationship didn’t leave a huge scar. Or that I’m okay. Because the truth is, I’m not. I am still dealing with the stain that he left on my life. The days keep passing and they don’t get any easier. Every day is a constant reminder, and most days I wish that I didn’t have to wake up.

An officer from the Met contacted me a while ago, regarding an allegation of harassment against me, made by Christian, but she doesn’t answer my inquiries. I don’t know the process in the UK, but one can assume it has been dropped if she refuses to return emails regarding the matter? At the very least she could let me know.

Henry Kinnersley, Christian's twin, threatened to “prosecute” me to the fullest extent. I’ve never met him, I barely said two words to him when I was trying to get Christian a Green Card for America back in January, but according to him he's an expert on my relationship (and tried to mansplain it to me). I’m tired of being told I’m lying, I’m tired of the threats. I wait with bated breath for “justice”, as he calls it, to be served.

Christian is a truly reprehensible and vile person, a compulsive liar and manipulator. Despite his claims to the contrary, I stand by the fact that I have told no lies. My only crime was loving him far too much, and being far too forgiving, and open to reconciliation, than he deserved.

When I met him I thought he was a snobbish bore. I wanted to believe there was more to him. That was not the case. I made him a better person in my mind. I gave him depth he does not possess. I thought he was, or could be, something extraordinary. If I could love him enough, care enough, showed him I believed in him I could bring out his best?

But he’s nothing more than a tulip in a cup, and he stands no chance of growing up. He watches YouTube videos and dating shows every second of the day, he’s illiterate, and he only cares about his weekly football matches, and his “dinners” with his brother and his Uni friends. There is no ‘there’ there. I had to teach him. I took him to task. I forced him to open up and move away from his comfort zone. I enlightened him to new ideas. I encouraged him to look beyond his small world. I asked him to be his own person. I wanted him to place less emphasis on what others thought. I demanded he become emotionally intelligent. I would have done anything in my power to ensure his success. I would have given anything to ensure his happiness.

We shared a lot of the same thoughts, and we agree on the same ideas, even our character traits are pretty similar so I thought we were on the same page. I thought when he was in Paris he could be himself, without pretense. But he was nothing more than a city boy, living in his small minded London world, never growing, never wanting to go beyond. No aspirations, no ambition beyond growing up to be Boris Johnson.

All of the traits I thought he possessed were traits I gave him. I asked him to go beyond what he was, and what he knew. I wanted more for him. I pushed him to finally take the GMAT and submit his application for Harvard. I sent his resume to companies. I tried to sponsor him for a green card for the US so he could work there. I told him to use my address and apply for residency in France if Paris was what he really wanted. I wanted great things for him, and I would have done anything to get them for him. If he had wanted to stay home and paint for the rest of his life I would have worked so he wouldn’t have to. Because when you love someone you will go to the ends of the earth to make their dreams come true.

But he resented me for it. He is impuissant and stagnant. He will always be vain, arrogant, and pigheaded. To be someone profound, to truly be someone with depth, you have to have intelligence beyond inputting numbers into Excel. He is incapable of accountability and self-critique. He’s as deep as a puddle. Whatever he was when he was with me was transference. It’s the reason I am confused by the ‘new’ person he became. It’s not new, it’s who he always was. Whoever I thought I knew was a figment. I grieve for ‘him’.

August 2019

Sept 2019

January 7, 2020

May 2018

Christian "yaying" having his penis shown on my public social media (twitter)

June 18, 2019

January 7, 2020

July 30, 21019

September 12, 2019

Christian admitting the blog didn't lie on April 29, 2020

Christian After He Found the Blog Post in April 28, 2020

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danielxricciardo · 3 years

Text

Cheater III

Summary: You found out Max cheated on you part 3.

Warnings: angst and fluff by the end

Word count: 2.5k

Part 1 and Part 2

Cheating in a relationship is the saddest thing. It can kill the personality from the inside. Bring changes a lot mentally. These situations turn into you to be good or bad. Some may be helpful to be stronger.

It feels bad when our loved one cheated, cause we are well connected to our partners. We had a lot of plans for that person to spend a most valuable time of ours. When it isn't going to happen then it feels unsuccessful or bad. Expecting something from another person is common in humans. When it turns down we feel such pain, like stabbing with words, The words have the power to kill or to give life to the opponent's mind. The reason why people say 'think before you talk'.

True love doesn't involve multiple people... You knew that.

When you are in love with someone, you don't cheat and you're not talking about just finding others attractive. You just don't desire to be sexually intimate with other people when you are truly "in love" with one person. You're not talking about caring for someone or loving in general.

You're talking about the head over heels, you're soulmates, the stars have aligned and nobody else has what you have, a type of love that consumes your whole being and makes you want to give that person the world. And that includes giving them the greatest physical pleasure that they can possibly experience. Cheating takes that away from you and that is why it hurts.

The person you are in love with and desire, who you thought felt the same way is revealing to you that intimacy with you is meaningless when you thought it was special. They do not desire you in the same way that you desire them. They are not "in love" with you in the way that you thought. All of your love is in vain.

“Why do we feel bad, even horrible, when our partner cheats on us?"

A trust, expectation, a promise was broken. This type of violation hits you closer to the heart because you have let that person through all your external defenses. Because you fear the loneliness that you are going to face. Nobody wants to end alone. When you put in so much for your relationship, you want it to last. But when your partner cheats you think that you would end alone, gradually realize this happens and life doesn't end here and someone else is going to come into your life.

Why do guys cheat on girls?

Both men and women cheat. In some cases, the reasons are simple: humans are animals with sex drives. We are biologically programmed to "spread our seeds." We have other instincts, such as loyalty, honesty, and guilt feelings. Those drives duke it out with lust in our brains. Sometimes, lust wins. It's more complicated than that because we tend to associate sex with so many other things: youth, freedom, adventure, personal attractiveness, you name it.

You know people make all sorts of excuses like, “I wasn’t happy in my relationship” or “I didn’t know what I was doing” or “I don’t find my partner attractive anymore” or “someone convinced me to do it.” You’ve heard these. But it’s funny to you.

A cheater can never have any excuse. They do not deserve to have that say after cheating on someone.

If you weren’t happy in the relationship, then why didn’t you break up first and had sex with someone else? Why didn’t you say that you needed a break and then had sex? Also, how can someone even convince you to cheat on your partner? It’s nonsense.

Some people will even go as far as to say that the other person made them feel loved, so they got swayed away. If you are not feeling loved by your partner and someone else is doing that job, then aren’t you supposed to figure out your feelings first, maybe break up with your partner and then be with someone else? That’s common sense.

Nobody deserves to be cheated on. The blame is ALWAYS on the cheater. Nowadays people even try to justify cheaters. It’s insane. To you, all the answers to “why” are simply just excuses trying to justify their unacceptable behavior. You know, how they always say that a person who cheats once will cheat again.

Since you found out that Max cheated on you and until this moment, so many months have passed that you have the impression that you have started to heal. You were with a man who made you feel fulfilled, happy, and loved. There were days in a row when you didn't think about Max, but even when you thought, you had in mind only the beautiful moments. Like when, for your first date, he rented your entire favorite restaurant and he cooked for both of you, even though he didn't know how to cook more than just one egg. Or when you first visited him at a Grand Prix for the first time and he won and came to you and kissed you in front of all the cameras, telling everyone that you are his lucky talisman. Or, your favorite memory, when you were at his house after you met his family and heard him talking to his father about you. Sure, you didn't understand a word they said, but Victoria translated to you what was most important about that conversation: Max loves you so much and if he doesn't get to marry you, he'll never marry anyone else.

As dear as your last memory may be, it is also painful because it is like a slap in the face to the fact that there was a time in your life when you were in love and now you were no longer together.

When you told your family that you started seeing another man, more than 6 months after you and Max broke up, your mother asked you how you could get into a relationship so quickly. relationship.

To be honest, you weren't ready yet. You were damn scared but Stephen, your boyfriend now, went after you a lot and you decided that if you don't give him a chance now it will be many years before you think about going on a date with someone else. You knew it wasn't going to be a long relationship. You didn't have much in common with Stephen, but he was a good, sweet boy, and you needed someone who wouldn't make you hate all the men in the world.

"Look, I'm not saying you didn't go through something traumatic, but it's been almost a year since then and I think it's time to come and show everyone that you're not afraid of anyone or anything," says Anthony who called you on facetime one Sunday night after the race.

"But I'm afraid."

"Just shut up, no one needs to know. You just come here, you smile, you laugh, you act friendly with everyone and you're going to look like you're better of without him."

You sigh and get out of bed, and go to the kitchen to get a pill for your headache.

"But he will be there..."

"Okay, so? Who cares about him? I'll always be by your side, I promise he won't talk to you."

"Can I come with Stephen?"

"You know I can't stand him, Y/N. Take him with you to the next Grand Prix, I don't feel like seeing him now, okay?"

"I'll think about it."

You have decided, however, to go to the last Grand Prix of the season, in Abu Dhabi. No one but Anthony knew you were coming to the race.

You forgot what a busy atmosphere it was on Sunday. However, everyone who saw you came to you to talk a little and to tell you that you missed them. You smiled and answered that you missed them as well.

The road to Red Bull Racing was long and short at the same time.

"Do my eyes see well? Y/F/N Y/L/N!" says Christian Horner, who comes to you and hugs you.

You first see Sergio Perez who waves at you, happy to see you, then you see Max who comes from somewhere in the back. Had he just heard your name?

"Hey, guys! I'm so glad to see you again. I missed you all."

"And we missed you, Y/N!" Christian answers on behalf of all Red Bull Racing employees. "Welcome home."

You giggle.

"Thank you."

In less than 10 minutes since you got there, Anthony broke his promise. He promised not to leave you alone so that Max could not come and talk to you.

"Hey," Max says softly, coming behind you.

You shivered at his voice, a voice you've dreamed of every night since you broke up. You turn to him and analyze his facial features. He was the way you remembered him, maybe even more handsome.

You look left and right for Anthony but you can't see him.

"Hey." You answer Max and your heart starts beating much harder.

"I'm so glad to see you... I missed you."

The desire to take him in your arms and kiss him was so strong that you felt dizzy. You couldn't focus on anything, not even a few words to say.

"Do you think that we... We could see each other after the race to... Talk?" he asks, moving his weight from one foot to the other.

"Okay," you say and regret it the next second.

"How stupid am I for wanting to get back together with Max after he cheated on me?" you asked Anthony.

"First of all, you're not stupid for wanting to get back with your boyfriend. Relationships are the most real things anyone can experience. We're growing while we're together. As we grow, we also go through many different behaviors in life. Behavior does not make that person. Behaviors come and go as we grow into who we are. No one is perfect. You cannot name one person you know to be 100% perfect, right?" you shake your head and he continues. "We all grow organically, and the best thing about being in a relationship is that you get to watch each other grow. You get to experience the person you care about to develop. Relationships are like walking through a door that you don't know what's on the other side. But you go through the door without any fear, doubt, or unbelief. Relationships are the livest-realest- life experience. He is a man. A man can only love once or twice. Just because Max has sex with a woman, doesn't mean he loves her. He just wanted to get his rocks off for a moment. When it is all said and done, he loves you. It may sound strange but just think of all the men you knew. Think about all the relationships you knew about. Think those who have been together for years on out. So, no you're not stupid for wanting to embrace your boyfriend's "only temporary behavior". You're smart for wanting to have the courage to walk through the next door. You're smart for being optimistic and knowing that things will get better with time. You realize the importance of maintaining a companion."

You blink several times.

"Why do I feel like you've practiced this speech in front of the mirror several times?"

He laughs and runs his arm over your shoulder.

"Maybe because that's what I did?"

You laugh and you hug him.

"Thank you for being my friend. So you're saying I should give Max another chance?"

"You don't have to give him a chance if you don't want to. But listen to your heart. Don't just do it because I'm saying so because you might regret it and you'll blame me. If you want to give him another chance, just do it. He's not the kind of man to cheat. I don't know what was on his mind when he did it with Kelly. But something tells me he regrets what he did and he will never cheat again."

"Hey, can we talk now?"

"Sure. Congrats on the win!"

"Yeah, thanks."

You both went to his room to talk. You were scared and your palms were sweating. You didn't want to start the conversation because you had different scenarios in mind, all different, depending on what Max would tell you the first time. You swallowed hard when you entered his room. The last time you were there, you two broke up.

“I’m truly sorry for hurting you.” he started saying after he closed the door behind you. "I care for you more than anything. I’m deeply sorry for hurting you… Hurting you is the most painful thing I have ever done. With a bruised heart and a deflated ego, with a sad soul and a head hung low, I apologize to you. An apology is nothing to what I’ve done; but still, I know you have a forgiving and understanding heart and won’t let resentment destroy our love. I have shown you what an idiot I can be by making that mistake. Now it is your turn to show me what a darling you can be by giving your anger a break. Without you I feel lonely, I never want to lose you in my life. I am sorry and I’ll work hard on changing my behavior. I know that I caused you a lot of pain. Whatever happens, remember that I am the guy, who will always be there for you in good and bad times. I know you’re angry now, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry for hurting you. I am ready to make amends. If I could, I would have wiped your memories about all the terrible things that I have caused you, but all I can do is to promise you that I’ll create only happy memories for you. I hope when you feel ready you can forgive me."

His words took you by surprise. You knew he would try to apologize, but in your mind, you weren't crying. You knew before you came to the room with him that you would forgive him.

"I forgive you. To be honest, I think I forgave you before we broke up but my ego was hurt and I couldn't forgive you so quickly. What you did was horrible and I hated you for so many months for making me feel so small and insignificant. But I love you. And I want to give ourselves another chance."

tag: hellolipoops, taina-eny

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen #f1 fanfiction #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #f1 2021 #f1 fandom #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #formula 1 oneshot #formula one #formula 1 #red bull racing

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

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Hello, Maya 🤗 Can you please write about how Benoit Blanc, Christian (Moulin Rouge), Ramsay Bolton, Erik Lehnsherr, Newt (MR) and Norman Bates would react to having a crush on a very flirt girl? She's always flirts with them and always kiss their cheeks 😁

Hi! So my limit for characters in multi headcanons is five so I just didn’t do the one I wanted to do the least lol. Enjoy otherwise!

- crushing on a very flirty girl is somewhat up his alley

- he’s not a flirt per say but he’s very observant and tends to read the room pretty well

- he can tell when something he says sets you off a little and uses it to his advantage

- he’s witty and good at shooting flirtatious things back at you

- that being said, he isn’t used to someone else flirting with him

- so he can get flustered

- and that’s the best time to strike honestly

- flustered Benoit is blushing, embarrassed and clumsy

- and it’s a side only few people can bring out in him

- he can let you smoothly sit on his lap without a second thought but the second you say something that rubs him the right way he’s gonna

- and that’s all just elevated because of his preexisting crush on you

- ramsay tends to be incredibly straight forward and very obvious when he likes someone

- so flirting is not something he’s unfamiliar with

- honestly he’s just happy your flirting back willingly

- he’s tired of women being too scared of him to every reciprocate feelings

- flirting with Ramsay is something that must be done slyly and usually behind closed doors

- because he is technically going to gain some kind of throne some day, you have to be careful where you step

- letting him know your not just a girl from a brothel but also shamelessly flirting

- any kind of cheeky touches he adores and will take advantage of

- definitely the kind of guy who puts you on his lap and moves on with the conversation

- scarily bold

- being smart when you flirt with him is advised and you have no intention of meeting his dogs

- Erik walks a fine line between awkward and incredibly charming

- because he can flirt but not when he likes someone

- he flirts on accident. he never intends to do it he’s just naturally charming

- oh and then and finds someone he likes and it’s like figuring out how to build a car for some reason

- he finds it so hard

- he has to be used to the person to get back in the groove so now he works with solely inside jokes and teasing

- he uses humor and it works

- damn it works

- after he gets in that groove he is on par with you

- everything physical is then initiated by him but at first he’s very rigid about that kind of stuff

- but once he gets there he’s there. no going back for you.

- oh oh, this is what we’re doing now? is his reaction

- if there’s one thing we all know about newt it’s his adaptability

- after he realized he has feelings for you and you were initiating a flirting kind of relationship he’s all in

- all the boys don’t know what to do

- most of them are jealous that you’re flirting with him honestly

- it isn’t that big of a deal to him that the other guys have thoughts at this point he is just sure that his flirting needs to be on par with yours

- it needs to be equal

- so if you up the anty, so does he

- back and forth until finally one of you breaks and kisses the other

- you can go a decent length of time before that happens though

- stubborn attracts stubborn

- overall he’s all for it

- baby. baby boy.

- literally the only person on this list who is unable to adapt to that attention

- so so flustered. So flustered

- literally you could call him handsome in a none flirty way and he’d lay away thinking about it

- every little thing you do is on the back of his mind for weeks

- kiss him on the cheek? oh boy

- his cheeks will go full red and he won’t be able to form any words other than ‘th..thank you’

- he tries!

- he just really can’t throw things offhandedly out there

- lots of ‘youre beautiful’ ‘youre so talented’ kind of things

- very heartfelt flirting, if we’re even able to call it that

#Benoit Blanc x reader #Benoit Blanc imagines #ramsay Bolton x reader #ramsay Bolton imagines #game of thrones imagines #erik lehnsherr imagines #erik lehnsherr x reader #newt x reader #newt imagines #the maze runner imagines #Norman bates x reader #Norman bates imagines

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memzhay · 3 years

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1992: Crushed on my best friend, beginning a lifelong pattern of unrequited love for close female friends.

1995: In high school, the only people I crushed on were girls, especially the pair of girls who were brave enough to go to prom together in my tiny bible belt town. For some reason, I never attach the word “gay” to myself. I think I’m a weirdo who is bullied a lot by boys and is just more comfortable with girls.

1998: After school I take to wacky fringe evangelical Christianity like a lot of people do drugs. Someone speaks a word of “prophecy” over me that I am destined to be a pastor’s wife and have Christian babies. I want to want this, but just can’t. I decide Jesus is my boyfriend and I don’t need anybody else.

2006: Me and Jesus have a messy breakup after I realize I’m in a cult, none of this is real, and I am absolutely in love with my best friend. When I leave the church, she and everyone else I cared about give me up to the devil and won’t talk to me anymore. It takes a good 10 years for the poison of it all to drain out of me.

2012: I marry a man. He loves me. I’m a loving person and love him in lots of ways. Things never feel right but I assume it is because I’m broken, or maybe incapable of physical attraction or romantic love the way most people describe it.

2014: I befriend a drag queen and fall head over heels in love with the queer community. All of it. The culture. The self expression. The acceptance. It’s a comfort and a home to me. I start to put the pieces together that my whole life, maybe I wasn’t broken or sinful or weird. Maybe I just wasn’t straight.

2021: Best I can figure, I am a bi-romantic demi-sexual, but I’m really probably a lesbian. I tend to simplify and just identify as queer. My close friends and my sister know. My elderly, very evangelical mom does not. I’m honest about it all with my husband. We talk a lot about going our separate ways. It seems the right thing to do, but life, she is complex, no? I dream of one day loving a girl who will love me back. But I am a walking middle-aged mom trope, and I’m also just trying to learn to love life as I find it.

#personal #hooray for science mike

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honeyandbloodpoetry · 3 years

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Abuse and Gender Expression - Gender Thoughts Part Three

Huuuuuge trigger warnings for peer abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, religious abuse, a murder attempt and mentions of self harm, suicidal ideation and an eating disorder. 18+ talk of sexual activity also included. Discretion advised!

I feel like the first time I realized I needed to perform high femininity to be accepted was in sixth grade. I was slotted into a rotating elective class, and the first one was a careers class. That careers class was utter hell for me. Every single day, I was tormented by an entire classroom of about twenty of my peers. I was bullied, no, abused for being fat and ugly and weird. I was called a whore, and told the only way I could ever be loved was someone raping me. Things were thrown at me, I was shoved down and tripped. I was bullied for my special interest in Transformers. I was told I was so fat and ugly I should be killed and be made into meat and cheese and fed to starving people because that was my only worth. Every single day I was told I should kill myself in varying ways. And all of that is just a quick summary. It was intense and brutal abuse for an entire semester, and I distinctly remember a day where there was a literal pool of tears on my desk. I couldn’t understand. I reached out to the teacher for help, and genuinely can’t remember exactly what he said. All I know is that he simply watched, and sometimes even joined in with “jokes” of his own. This was also the year abuse from my mother amped up, and home was a warzone--we were constantly arguing, and she became a professional at gaslighting and poking and prodding me until I exploded so I could be blamed for fighting back. My father would vacantly stand by and remind me not to fight back. This was also the year I began to self harm as a way of release.

I remember thinking that if I looked more like the girls in my class, I wouldn’t be bullied so much. I was told I was ugly and unlovable, so I thought that if I performed more femininely, maybe I could be like those who tormented me and therefore not be a target. I thought there was something inherently wrong with the way I presented myself. I convinced my mother to take me to the store, and I bought wedge heels and gaudy jewelry I did not like to wear with my uniform--replacing my autobot necklace and sweatband. In another class I was teased for not shaving and for having ugly feet, so I learned to paint my nails, file my heels, and shave every bit of hair on my body--the echo of my father saying that since I grew pubic hair, I was now a woman and held accountable for all of my sins an echo on the cusp of my mind. I did everything in my power to be more pretty and girly. I used to be loud and rambunctious, and began to go silent and demure.

I remember walking up to the class in the new get-up that was certainly not me. I felt that I would be accepted but as I walked up...I fell flat on my ass. I couldn’t walk in the heels. They all pointed and laughed at me, and the abuse continued in even higher intensity. It was until the next semester that I fought back by throwing a desk at two of my abusers who followed me to the next rotating elective, screaming and snarling at them to leave me alone. Those two in particular stopped, but abuse from others continued for many years in many instances. I developed an eating disorder, continued self harming, and began to try and form femininity and “attractiveness” to the best of my ability. I added things like bows and kitty ears and flower crowns to my wardrobe--sure they were cute, and I did like them in a way, but it felt like putting on a costume or some sort of womanly obligation. It didn’t feel like me. Years later, I was told by someone I trusted that I was “too fat to wear pants”, which I internalized and began to only wear dresses--same thing with feeling like I was wearing a costume. I tried to be beautiful. I wanted to be butch, be myself, but I felt that if I was a cute and girly girl, demure and sweet, I wouldn’t be a target. I would be loved.

And so I locked myself away.

My relationship with my mother was a rocky one. She is definitely a sick and broken person, but I doubt she will ever get help. She swings between extremes, and I was always her doll and punching bag. She had a habit of pushing and pushing, finding all the littles holes in me that triggered autistic meltdowns and despair. She criticized everything about me, from my weight and height to my blaming me for how tangled my hair was. She entered me in sports and spelling bees with gentle but insisting prodding about how good I would be when I would rather be reading or playing, and when I got frustrated she would say it was my choice...when in reality I just wanted her approval. When I got older, and especially after my father killed himself, I began to fight back and question her authority though--sometimes violently. She didn’t like that, and was violent right back, and oftentimes first. I struggled my whole life with blaming myself for my outbursts and reactions, but through therapy I have learned I was a child being gaslit and abused, shown that violence was the only answer… And through therapy, I have learned to do better and grow. The worst instance of abuse was me having an autistic meltdown where I said that we should both just die and her response was to pull out a gun and point it at me--I collapsed down into our trash covered room (I was forced to share a bed with her) and pleaded with her to stop. She threatened to kill me and help me out since I was so suicidal, then turned the gun on herself and threatened to kill herself, in which I had to talk her down. When the gun was down, I fled in a flurry of tears and barely contained screams. It was truly the most horrible moment of my life, and I still struggle with the ptsd of that moment to this day. I was only fourteen.

All that background to say, my mother was extremely possessive of my body. She seemed to love to touch my breasts and butt, jerk me around, slap my butt, watch me get dressed. When I begged her to stop, she would tell me that she made that body and could do whatever she wanted to it. I found messages on her phone of her talking to guys about having sex with me and stealing my panties. She wouldn’t let me do my own hair because I couldn’t do it right. She wouldn’t let me bathe alone until I was over ten years old. I didn’t ever have my own room until I was 18 and shared it with my partner. She never let me play with my hair and kept a close eye on what I wore. This combined with my very religious Christian father, who said things like “if you know more song lyrics than bible verses when you die, you’ll go to hell” and the aforementioned accountability, along with things like letting me know he loved God more than me and always seeming to walk in while I was changing… I always felt owned by something. I never felt like my body or my identity belonged to me alone. And so it was extremely difficult to explore myself.

Sexual exploration became an outlet. I was asexual and didn’t possess sexual attraction or a desire for coital sex (still don’t), but I enjoyed kink play with my partner and playing with myself. I enjoyed porn, mostly stories. I always felt drawn to mlm porn, but never understood why. I saw myself in the big, fat men of the stories. I wished it could be me, wished I was a big hairy man like that. Wished I could be loved like that. Reading those types of erotica always got me off and made me feel relaxed and fulfilled, no matter what kink it regarded. Of course my mom would slutshame me without even knowing what I got up to, but sexual activity and pornography helped me find solace and ownership of my body. When I was aroused and taking care of myself, being taken care of, or taking care of someone else, I felt like I was finally in control of my body and my happiness. I had been sexually abused in different ways by different people throughout my life, and finding a certain safety and security in the kind of sexual activity I explored made me feel like...me. I found myself in those big men, but still didn’t make the connection that I was not cis.

It wasn’t until many years that I began to question my gender. First nonbinary, then agender, then genderfluid, then bigender, then nonbinary again, now finally transmasc. I am autistic and struggle with a resistance to change. I have struggled with shifting my name because it feels like a betrayal to become something new. So I have become Charis instead of Charissa...but I think I may be Myles instead. Since I have struggled with abuse and feeling owned my whole life, it is scary to take my self creation into my own hands. People I am close to have expressed concern and dislike for my transition--especially my mother. I came out to her two days ago over the phone when she guessed I was transgender--or “wanted a sex change” as she put it. She outed me to her anti-lgbt boyfriend without my consent, and now they want to have a discussion. She cried and told me it was too much and she couldn’t talk yet. I am still unsure of what to do about it. I know my mother is broken, and has come far from the cruelty she was once capable of--but she still swings. I see those shattered pieces and their sharp edges and know they have the ability to cut. It is terrifying.

Coming out, especially after so many years of abuse, has been absolutely terrifying and difficult. I am still navigating how to do it, especially with a name change. The clinic I am going to for hrt screwed up with their scheduling and had to reschedule me for later this month, a frustrating thing. I am looking forward to starting hrt, but also scared how people will treat me once those changes begin happening. Even with these fears and struggling with my interpersonal relationships...this is the greatest choice I have ever made. It is my truth and my freedom, and I will fight against that fear to become my most authentic self. I have an incredible partner by my side, and with their support and my own self love, I can do anything.

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werewolfetone · 2 years

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Facts about Coleridge: Asra

If you’ve been following this blog for any significant amount of time, you’ve probably heard me mentioning a woman named “Asra.” I’ve realized that I’ve never really fully clarified who she was or how she’s related to anything, sooo... this is what this post is for.

First off, Asra wasn’t a real person’s name, it was the brilliant pseudonym Coleridge used for Sara Hutchison. I use it because Coleridge also had a daughter named Sara and that was his wife’s name, and it’s just so much easier to refer to Asra, Sara, and Mrs Coleridge then Sara, Sara, and Sara.

Now, no full pictures of Asra survive, but we do have this silhouette from the Wordsworth family’s silhouette book:

and according to description, she had auburn hair, and was a rather short but attractive and *ahem* curvaceous woman. Coleridge’s daughter Sara also later described her as “dumpy,” but consider that she had more than enough reasons to dislike Asra by the time she did so, and that Asra was older at the time.

Biographically, Asra was born in 1775 and died in 1835. She was the younger sister of Mary Hutchison, who became Mary Wordsworth in 1802 when she married William Wordsworth. Asra herself never married, instead acting as a sort of maiden aunt to the Wordsworth household similar to Dorothy (insert comment about how behind every great man...).

She was also friends with one Samuel Taylor Coleridge, who fell deeply in love with her upon meeting her in 1799. Keep in mind that... uh... Coleridge was kind of already married with a child at the time. He didn’t have the best relationship with his wife due to a variety of circumstances, including the fact that they had kind of married on impulse and the fact that due to miscommunications and him being overseas at the time he had been kept in the dark about the fact that their baby died for over a year. Keep in mind that this is Coleridge’s account of things, but according to him, his wife was also fairly... um... frigid... in the bedroom from close to the beginning. They had some contact because they had four children (only three survived), but for the most part they didn’t really... yeah.

So Coleridge, who was very emotionally needy by nature, wasn’t happy with this, and, upon seeing Asra, who paid attention to him, laughed at his jokes, listened to him talk, was physically affectionate with him, etc, fell hopelessly in love with her.

Nothing ever came of this, due to a few factors:

Coleridge was a fairly religious Christian with the expected ideas about divorce and adultery

Coleridge already had a wife who would not have appreciated him sleeping with someone else

Most importantly, while Asra was certainly fond of Coleridge and often helped him with his work, she didn’t love and/or desire him at all like he did with her.

In terms of how it affected Coleridge... well, it kind of depended. His love for her was certainly a light that helped him in his darkest moments, but it also caused him depression and paranoia that someone might find out. By turns he despairs about the grief his love and never being able to fulfill it gives him and uses his love for Asra as one of the best things about his life. It kind of saved him from cheating on his wife for real (I’ll totally elaborate on that if anyone wants me to, or on other stuff about her, but not here because this is just a quick overview of who she was), but it also drove a lot of the self-loathing Coleridge constantly struggled with. In terms of his overall mental state, I would say that it certainly caused more harm than good.

#sara hutchison #samuel taylor coleridge #coleridge #william wordsworth #wordsworth #romantic poets #romanticism

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beneaththetangles · 3 years

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Why Kill Yourself Working When You Can Kill Slimes (and Love People) Instead?

I don’t want to overthink I’ve Been Killing Slimes For 300 Years And Maxed Out My Level, the new anime adaptation of the light novel series about a woman who literally worked herself to death and is then reborn to a slower, more lazy life. As stardf29 mentioned in his first impression of the series, one shouldn’t “expect much in the way of drama or excitement.” And yet, I find something profound and challenging in a theme emphasized in the first two episodes of the series, something that speaks against the lifestyles of so many of those I’ve been surrounded by my whole life, from family to friends to church members, and sometimes myself as well: Working too hard is a bad thing.

The show takes a very simple approach with this idea. Azusa Aizawa labored in her corporate job for endless hours, devoting her life to work, until one day she passed out and died while in the office. Given the chance at rebirth in a different world, she asks to made ageless and rquests the opposite kind of life she lives on earth, one that’s slow and easy. And so Aizawa is reborn as a witch and for the next 300 years, spends her time killing the lowest enemy life form (slimes), walking to the village to speak with people and exchange gems for money, occasionally making medicines, growing crops, and making meals.

This slower pace is exactly what she needs. Her new life serves as a cure for the old.

I feel a deep empathy for Asuza. I may not work as hard as she did, or even to the extent of the typical worker in corporate Japan, famed for its excesses in poor labor treatment, but a similar mentality, at least, is present in my mind: Keep working, keep working, keep working. Maybe it’s the same for you, this even though we all realize that working too much and too hard results in high stress, poor health, and, perhaps and unfortunately, illness that contributes to, if not directly linked to, our eventual demise, like with Aizawa.

And yet, we do it. The pressure of culture and allure of financial gain is too overpowering. So, too, the attraction of seeing oneself in a position of authority, letting work and its results be our passion, and conveying our family beliefs through work ethic. It’s almost as if for many of us, overwork runs in our blood, and it becomes more natural to just do rather than to first stop and think about one’s approach, which is unfortunate since it’s vital to consider this question: Is working this hard this really what I should be doing?

You would think Christians would have a better handle on all this, with our teachings about the purpose of life, but we don’t. “Hard work,” as good as it can be, becomes part and parcel of our religion rather than something to be looked at through a biblical lens. We don’t consider if and why we should be working hard. Labor often contributes to a neglect of what our lives here are all about.

At the end of the day, we need consider if we’ve expended our thought, energy, and heart on Christ as much as we should, and if not, has work contributed to this problem? Has ministry taken a backseat, becoming more of a “when I can” type activity or an ideal scenario as opposed to the reality of work, eat, rest, repeat?

Right now in my own life, I’m in a period of overwork. It won’t last forever—I don’t think—but if it does go on for too long, I’ll need to make a change because I can already see the impact in my life: I’m less kind to people (both those I’m supposed to be ministering to and my own family), my health isn’t as good, and my heart and focus is more on the next thing to do rather than on worship. I know that I’m in danger of making work the focus, rather than the means, of forgetting that it is for ministry and is ministry, and that I should conduct it in a way, also, that leaves me energy to pour into this very blog and its other platforms, as well as into people that God more physically brings into my life.

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. – Romans 12:2

If I labor for any other reason than for Christ, I’m buying into the ways of this world. I’m placing my own priorities and wishes ahead of God’s. And while it can result in some good, sometimes much good, that’s not what God desires from me—He wants my heart, and when I’m more intentional and enamored, purposely giving it to him, I’m often surprised to find myself more effective for his kingdom purposes.

In the anime, Aizawa, who after hundreds of years has mastered the art of working just enough, becomes disagreeable when adventurers, a dragon, and her “children” seek her out and challenge her after discovering that she’s a level 99 adventurer. But despite seeming to be put off by the new challenges in her life, what episodes one and two infer is that although Aizawa will become busier with these changes in her life, it’s not busyness in the same pattern as with her previous life. She’s starting to become occupied with the work of taking care of others, while still ensuring that she gets the rest she needs. After recovering from the evil inflicted on her by a work-to-death culture, Aizawa is ready to labor in a better way, one that has real meaning and which preserves life, expands it, and gives it, rather than taking it away.

Aizawa lost her chance to live that way in her first life. It was over before she knew it. I have a chance now to change before my life is totally wasted away, and without the need for a redo and hundreds of years of rest and healing. Rest can come now and so, too, can the goodness of using my energy and time for something more than simply work. Starting now, I can be more like the new Aizawa—healing, teaching, and loving.

And that sounds to me like the best kind of work there is.

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I’ve Been Killing Slimes For 300 Years And Maxed Out My Level can be streamed through Crunchyroll.

#Anime #Christianity #I’ve Been Killing Slimes For 300 Years And Maxed Out My Level #Slime Taoshite 300 nen Shiranai Uchi ni Level Max ni Nattemashita #Labor #Ministry #Work #Rest #Articles #Author: TWWK

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twigon0metry · 3 years

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Thoughts on Identity

Identity is a powerful thing. If a human does not know who they are, they are lost, anxious, sad, and restless. Throughout all of humanity, one can see a desire for purpose. Why am I here? What am I meant to do? Do I amount to anything in this gigantic world? Why was I made like this?

If one has their identity, they are stable. They feel safe. They are not threatened by other people’s ideas of who they are. There is no question as to who they are, what their existence means, and their purpose. Many people claim to have found who they really are. But how many people really feel like they’ve arrived?

People find their identities in so many things these days. They are doctors, they are artists, they are mothers and fathers. They are teens. They are male, they are female, they are nonbinary. They like men, they like women. Identity, for a human in this world, can be anything--hobbies, doings, career titles, gender, sexuality, appearance, health.

I myself, even as a Christian, struggle with identity. At it’s rawest, simplest, worldly state, I am a young cisgender, straight, woman. I am an artist. I dance. I work in retail. I am an older sister. If you were to go a little deeper than that, you’d see a lot of other very specific things. I am a young, cisgender, straight woman, but I don’t act how a lot of women are expected to act. I think I might have experienced some form of attraction to the same sex, so maybe I’m not straight? I’m an artist, but perhaps not a good one. I work in retail and I struggle a lot because I’m an introvert. I am an older sister, but I don’t even give my younger sister half of the things she deserves.

I love labels. I always have, from the time I was little and Dad stuck them on my hands for fun. I love organizing and putting things into boxes, including aspects of myself. I have an incessant need to categorize, to order, to put into place. And so does the world.

If I define myself as I have written, by the worldly standards, you can see that if you dive deeper into those statements of identity, none of them are stable. Even when it comes to my health.

I am mentally ill. I struggle with severe anxiety and Major Depressive Disorder, as well as Panic Disorder and phobia-related anxiety. I have a possible diagnosis of OCD. I am also physically ill. I have IBS-C, GERD, chronic migraine issues, and I know for sure something’s wrong with my liver and gallbladder.

People often define themselves by the biggest aspects of their lives. They define themselves by what they love the most, or what they focus on the most. They define themselves by what they think, do, feel, and perceive. For me, my health is a big aspect of my life. It affects my home life, work, social life, and my spiritual life. All you need to do is take my obsessive need to categorize and my health issues, smack them together, and there you have one of the biggest parts that I identify with, to my own folly.

And yet I am a Christian. My biggest identity definer should be God. I should focus most on the fact that I am His child. Yet, because of my broken flesh, often all I can focus on are my works and my battered body.

These things do not bring me fullness--on the contrary, they feed an ever-growing hunger. It’s like an ugly black hole that grows and grows and demands everything from me. My works are never enough, I have to do more to be good. I’m not sick enough in that specific way for a diagnosis. Or am I? The hole demands I check, so I know who I am for sure.

My story is not the only one. Thousands of people every day look for their identities in every place imaginable. Their bodies, their minds, the things they do, and the people around them. If one thing doesn’t fit just right, they look for another. And it is an endless, painful search from life to death. Everyone has that hungry black hole that demands to be filled, and yet never is.

Everything on this earth dies at some point. Stories and memories are forgotten, people die, things break and decompose. Thoughts and feelings leave, only to be replaced by something completely different. Looking at all of this, one might wonder why we people keep trying.

It is because humanity was always made for something beyond this world. Something stable that never changes. Something life-giving, something lasting. An endless source of fulfillment and joy.

When I was deep in my depression, I identified so much with this brokenness of mine that I believed I would never change. I was angry, full of walls, tears, unrest and pain. I wasn’t like other normal people, I didn’t work right. I failed all the time. I hurt people, a lot. My body made me feel like garbage most of the time. Such a thing is painful to identify with, yet it was the strongest aspect of my life.

A beautiful thing about God is that no one is too far gone for him. Something I didn’t realize at the time was that in those moments of suffering, God was looking at me with concern and compassion in His eyes. His heart hurt for me. And because of that love and concern, He reached out to me and told me that my name was not broken, it was Beloved.

Over time I started to realize what that meant. I was broken, but even more than I was broken, I was loved by God. The love He has for me is bigger than every sin I’ve committed. It’s bigger than my suffering. It’s there, just as big and beautiful as before, even when I don’t deserve it.

Slowly, over time, I’m beginning to finally understand what matters most. The more I learn about God’s love and see Him demonstrate it, the more full I feel. It is only because of God that I am here, healing, today. I am filling up. I am becoming whole. Nothing in this world can stand as an identity. And there is no identity better than one where you are unconditionally, irrevocably, completely loved.

#christianity #identity #rambles #jesus #God #faith #love #hope

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 3 years

Note

"Vampire landlord" Do with that what you will :)

Ahhh! I love this and I love you for sending it! I think I have an answer for you now, actually!! Remember way back when you actually sent me Seeds Of Unrest and I did that whole Edge x OFC x Christian thing? Well, hello to Yvette, Edge and Christian again.. This is kind of a newer / fresher look at it? I think we kinda.. danced around these three and this at some point on Discord and our talks actually inspired me to write this out for your answer. So.. Yeah.

There’s not really anything steamy here, just uh.. Heavy tension. That’s all.

Warnings:

Nothing, really.. Bear in mind that this is a vampire!edge & wolf!omega original character work, so things might... possibly.. get weird. Not in the sexual sense or anything, but like.. yes. Just weird. IE... The brood is portrayed here as an actual family coven of vampires.. And Luna is in a partnership with Gangrel.. And they’ve taken Edge and Christian in as their sons.. So it’s very much also a found family idea that I’ve had in mind for a while but never the guts to truly write..

Oh, wait.. yeah.. There are heavy hints that Orton is involved in this little tale somewhere, sooner or later... And it ends on a bit of a random cliffhanger, sorry!!

Tagging:

@kyleoreillysknee

@rampagewriting

@writertoo18

@thatnerdwriter

@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@waywardwrestlewritingwaif

@sassymox

@heelchampbucks

@hungmanhorsecarriage

@wardl0w

@ryantaylorgirl

@dilfmoxley

@hotyeehawman

@gabbynorth98

@bec0m

@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

@daddyslittlevillain

@andie01

@littlemsbliss06

@jayswhites

@ghoulsworld

@uncrownedmox

@gothcerulli

@linziland13

It was a little after 9 pm.

That feeling of unease hadn’t worn off. I kept telling myself that Randy wouldn’t dare cross over to the vampire side of town. But deep down, knowing how insane Randy could be at times… I couldn’t entirely convince myself he wouldn’t if he didn’t want something bad enough.

Three sharp raps at the door of the little house had me jumping at least two feet into the air and scrambling for an old wooden bat that leaned against the door.

Something Luna’s son brought over just when it started to get dark.

I could almost hear the dry tone to his voice then as he’d told me “If you won’t take a gun or keep a silver blade on you…” when he left it behind earlier.

Tiptoeing towards the window, I found myself peering through cheery red curtains and out into the darkness. In the distance, I could hear a lone howl and that had me tensing all over. The air felt heavy.

I was doing it again, letting my own fears get to me.

“The Alphas of our kind don’t typically come here. He isn’t lurking in the shadows. I need to get a grip.” I muttered it to myself, mostly to break the tension.

The door was being knocked on harder now.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hand shaking so bad I barely kept a hold of the wooden bat as I stepped towards it.

Sniffing the air had my body relaxing only slightly. It wasn’t the pungent and overpowering aroma of Randal or any of his pack mates come to steal me away in the darkness and drag me back to hell kicking and screaming that awaited me on the other side of the door.

Instead, I smelled old leather. Traces of copper that indicated that the surly man with the long blond locks who stood on the stoop must have just returned from either the blood bank or scouring the woods that lined the edge of the town square for deer or any other sort of game he could find.

It’s how they fed, Luna told me once. She never told me why and I never asked.

“Edge?” I questioned, my back pressed as heavily as I could get against the front door to the house until I was absolutely sure it was him and I wasn’t picking up on residual from his visit earlier in the evening.

“Yeah.” he answered.

I turned to face the door and took a few long and deep breaths to pull myself together. The bat fell to the parquet flooring with a quiet thud that seemed to echo all around the room and I rose to tiptoe, peering through the small pane of glass at the top of the door.

I wasn’t taking any chances.

I knew I was safer here than I was on my side of town, but… I also knew just how calculating and ruthless Randal could be when he set his sights on something and got an idea in his head. I knew that mimicking scents wasn’t below him. Neither was doing something to potentially harm Luna and her family, then using one of them to gain entry to the house I was currently hidden in.

If he really wanted to find me, a silly little thing like unspoken boundaries and code of conduct weren’t going to stop him. Not that he’d ever had a code of conduct to begin with. Or common decency, anything like that.

,,to be fair it didn’t stop you when you chose to go into hiding here, did it? You’re really only as safe as you choose to believe you are at any given moment. You know you’re putting Luna and her family at risk simply by being here. You know that sooner or later, Randal will find you. He is a monster, after all.” the reminder came just as Edge knocked a few more times, impatient.

“Just a second.” I finally managed to get the words out. I reached for the door knob and unlocked that, then I unlocked all 3 of the chain locks on the door and opened it just a slip, standing in it.

Edge stared down at me, arms folded over his chest. His eyes settled on the fallen bat nearby and he gave a dry chuckle.

“Is there something wrong?” I tilted my head slightly to gaze up at him, shuffling my feet.

My heart started to pound. I was all too well aware of the tension that radiated off of his body and I knew exactly why. Working with Luna meant I got to hear things now and then. One of those things being Edge’s struggle with going to donor blood or animal blood.

I don’t know why, exactly, but I found myself wondering whether my blood smelled weird to him. I’d been working with Luna for over a year now and I still hadn’t grown accustomed to the scent of her if I were being perfectly honest. And being on this side of town…

The scent of death. Old and new. It mingled heavily in the air.

I wasn’t used to it at all. I’m not sure I’ll ever be used to it.

Edge’s teeth snagged on his lower lip and he cleared his throat, again, a sign of impatience.

“Luna sent me over for tonight.” he explained as he nodded to the room behind me, indicating that he wanted to come inside. I swallowed hard and eyed him, shaking my head.

,, He’s not a threat to you… At least not in the way Randal would be right now.” the thought lingered and while I knew that, there was also this lingering air of danger and mystery that seemed to roll right off the man standing in front of me.

He left me unsettled.

I couldn’t figure out whether that was a good thing or a bad one, either…

After the tension seemed to get thicker to a point where I found myself breathing erratically, I stepped aside and let him into the living room. Edge shut the door behind him and sank down onto the sofa.

I sat down at the other end. Very careful not to invade his space.

The dim glow of the television set filled the room and silence seemed to settle in until he spoke up again.

“Luna had a bad feeling. Thinks you’re in danger.” Edge explained, almost immediately falling silent again. A thoughtful look on his face. I didn’t dare ask what was on his mind. I didn’t dare say what was on mine, either. But the thought was weighing down on me heavily.

,, Oh, I’m in danger alright.. In danger of crawling right out of my damn skin at any second because I can feel my heat beginning. Thank god I have my suppressant patches and I got away from my side of town in time...” just the mere thought had my face burning hot and I didn’t dare meet his gaze. I cleared my throat and spoke up.

I got the distinct feeling that I probably didn’t want to hear his answer, but I knew I had to ask. I had to know if Luna had been feeling off all day too.

“Did she happen to mention why, exactly?” I asked the question in a series of shaky breaths.

My heart pounded harder against my chest. My mind filled and spun with the possibilities. Had Randal and his pack mates found out where I currently hid?

Edge eyed me and shrugged. “All she told me was that she felt like you were in danger tonight.”

I couldn’t help but stare at him out of the corner of my eyes. Studying him intently, searching for any possible hint whether I’d just caused problems for Luna and her family. Edge’s chuckle drew me out of my thoughtful daze.

“What?”

“You. You do realize if we wanted you dead or if we wanted to turn you, you’d be one of us or dead already, right?” Edge shrugged as he mentioned it.

I nodded. Dragging my hands through my hair, I spoke up quietly.

“It’s not so much you guys as it is… The threat me being here poses to you all.” I fell silent, grumbling to myself and pouting a little when Edge nearly doubled over, laughter so hard that he shook a little.

He stopped and the laughter died away. His eyes roamed over me slowly. Carefully.

I tensed and gulped under his gaze. If I thought my cheeks burned hot before, they burned so much hotter now under the gaze. He was moving closer to me.

“You really think we can’t handle a pack of mangy animals?” Edge asked the question as he shook his head in amused disbelief.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I…” I stammered, nervous. Getting more nervous with each second that passed. Because he seemed to get closer.

Sitting taller.

My eyes left his and settled on his mouth. The faintest hint of blood at the corners of his mouth a very real warning of the danger he was to me.

But the animal within didn’t seem to care.

She felt amused. Satisfied. Curious. And oh so dangerously attracted to the vampire sitting to my left. ,, almost as equally attracted as she was to his brother, who’d come by earlier, right after he left the first time..” the knowledge of this had me curious. Wondering what was up with that. Telling myself that it was probably just purely physical.. But knowing that was wrong because for whatever reason... I felt this.. Pull... to both men.

I realized that Edge wasn’t the only one moving closer around the same time that the side of my leg brushed against his and the door was being knocked on, yet again. Edge raised a finger to his lips and muttered quietly, “Shhh. Don’t move. Stay put.” as he got up and strode over towards the door.

I tensed even more.

Not that I’d ever fully felt the tension leave my body. Just changing… From one form of tension to another.

I watched that front door like my life depended on it, only letting out a few long and ragged breaths when Luna’s other son Cristian stepped into the room.

And while I may have relaxed slightly, I was still in control of myself enough to know that either way I sliced things currently, I was still in danger.

,, but you’re safer here in this little house on this side of town than you are on your own. Here, you have freedom. You’re not just some little breeder who is frowned upon because she stubbornly refuses to breed with the first Alpha to pay her a passing glance… ”

If that Alpha had been anyone other than Randal Orton, I may well have caved in.

Cristian cleared his throat and flashed me that megawatt grin, immediately flopping down on the right end of the couch after walking into the living room. He sprawled out, an arm going around the back of the couch lazily.

“Looks like you’re stuck with two stiffs tonight, princess.” Cristian teased, giving me a playful little wink as he held my gaze for more than a few seconds. I couldn’t help but stare right back at the man.

Edge grumbled to himself but flopped down onto the other side of the couch. I tried to focus on the television, on anything but the… sheer magnets pull I felt to both brothers.

I could feel the two glaring daggers at each other over my head and on more than one occasion, I almost spoke up about it.

“Blondie here thinks we’re afraid of a few little mangy mutt assholes, Cris.” Edge chuckled, a teasing look when those almost golden brown eyes locked on me. I shifted around in my spot between the two of them.

“I never said that.”

“You did. I mean, kind of.” Edge explained, chuckling in amusement.

I needed to catch my breath. Pull myself together. Cristian’s hand brushed against my shoulder and the touch felt like an icy jolt. His arm remained around me, pulling me into his side just a little more, brazenly.

Edge’s leg was pressed against the side of mine and that jolt only doubled. And if I thought Christian were being more brazen and the bigger flirt, I was mistaken, because Edge’s hand settled on my leg, giving a squeeze almost playfully.

I pulled myself off the sofa and spoke up.

“Popcorn. I think I’m going to go get myself some from the kitchen… Yeah… that’s what I’m gonna do.”

And as soon as I said it, I hurried out of the room as fast as my feet would carry me. I needed to pull myself together. Catch my breath. I couldn’t even think straight between the two handsome men... And that in itself was a very, very dangerous thing right now.

#schizoauthoress #edge fanfiction #christian fanfiction #edge fanfic #christian fanfic #christian imagine #edge imagine #christian imagines #edge imagines #my writing ; christian #my writing ; edge #my fics ; christian #my fanfiction ; christian #my fanfiction ; edge #my fics ; edge #my drabbles / blurbs ; edge #my drabbles / blurbs ; christian #// i know this isn't short enough to be a drabble lmaooo.#i don't really know what else to call it

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kickasskody · 3 years

Text

DAKOTA ‘ kody ’ PIERCE, a character study. “just because i cannot see it, doesn’t mean i cannot believe it.” -- jack skellington

Character’s full name: dakota pierce Reason for name and/or meaning of name: kody’s parents met and fell in love in north dakota, and decided to name their son after the great state 💖 Character’s nickname: kody Reason for nickname: in middle school, kody didn’t think the name dakota was cool. but the name kody, the most generic white boy name ever , was definitely cool Birth date: december 13th, 2002. baby sagittarius

Physical appearance Faceclaim: austin abrams Gender: cis male Height: 5″8 #shortking Build: scrawny boy body. looks like he couldn’t lift more than 30 pounds... PSYCH!!! he’s a vampire so he can actually lift several hundred pounds 🤪🤪🤪 Eye color: blue with little dark green specks Glasses or contacts?: not with that snazzy 4k vampire sight !! Distinguishing marks/scars: funny little frecklescape on his back that looks like this emoji 😦 Hair color: dirty blonde Type of hair: type 1, aka straight hair Hairstyle: gets up out of bed, looks in mirror. maybe tussles it a little bit. thats it Physical disabilities: none Mental disabilities: adhd Clothing style: sweaters sweaters sweaters. striped sweaters ( because the best time to wear one is all the time ), disney sweaters, sweaters with dogs on them. white collared shirts to go underneath most of them. denim jackets, a couple of them tattering with holes in the elbows. black skinny jeans -- like he owns four pairs of the same black skinny jeans. someone tell him that skinny jeans aren’t in style anymore. uses the same jansport backpack he’s had since the eighth grade with a sewn in epcot center patch on the front pocket. dirty checkered vans. falling apart high-top converse. it’s not that he’s poor and can’t afford new things, he just prefers all his old stuff. Make up: has never worn any but wouldn’t be opposed to trying some !!

Personality Good personality traits: good at secret keeping, friendly and uplifting, loyal, thoughtful, great memory, cautious, playful. chaotic good energy 🥰 Bad personality traits: gullible, slightly obnoxious, constantly confused, easily distracted Mood character is most often in: cheery, happy as f, practically bouncing off the walls Sense of humor: goddamn hilarious!!! at least he thinks so lol Articulation: loud and occasionally stuttery. repeating himself pretty often. the type to get lost in the middle of conversation and have to take a second to mentally loop back and remember what exactly they were talking about. uses the word ‘ like ‘ way too much. talks with his hands a whole lot. constantly talking like he’s a kooky disney character on a mission. Character’s greatest joy in life: riding a mf’in roller coaster Character’s greatest fear: disneyworld getting blown up / physically hurting someone Character is most at ease when: he’s curled up with his friends watching a disney movie Most ill at ease when: he’s laying in bed at night, pretending he’s sleeping since he can’t Enraged when: thinking about how there are vampires in bridgemead -- that they could turn other people, kill other people, or worse... harm his friends. Depressed or sad when: drinking from a blood bag. watching disney pixar’s coco. thinkin’ about a disneyworld churro and how he’ll never be able to enjoy the taste of one again. Priorities: at the moment? trying not to hurt anybody. Life philosophy: “Keep Moving Forward!” -- walt disney said that Greatest strength: his optimism / ability to take something sad or bad and turn it around! Greatest vulnerability or weakness: giving just about anyone the benefit of the doubt.

Goals Drives and motivations: getting enough money to be able to travel the world and visit every disney park on the planet. Immediate goals: graduating high school / helping the scooby gang solve mysteries Long term goals: roller coaster designer / engineer. create a haunted house / rollercoaster hybrid ride

Childhood Hometown: orlando, florida Type of childhood: the kind where he’s an only child, where his middle class parents live to please and spoil him, take him to whatever amusement park he wanted to go to and buy him all the best merch. the smile on his face was worth more than anything they ever could’ve purchased for themselves. kody probably would’ve had siblings, but his parents had complications getting pregnant again, and thus they lived to make sure he had the best life possible. Pets: a cat named toulouse ( shoutout aristocats ), but he passed when kody was fifteen Most important childhood memory: waiting in line for five hours to ride harry potter and the forbidden journey at universal studios orlando. blew his little kid mind. Dream job: imagineer!! Religion: non-practicing christians. church on easter and christmas ONLY!

Present Current location: bridgemead, massachusetts Currently living with: his parents 💖 Pets: none Religion: agnostic Sexuality: currently questioning his sexuality. growing up he always felt attracted to both boys and girls, but has never been able to articulate it. he’s only ever expressed interest in women, but he has a fat crush on chris evans as captin america Politics: would be socialist if he cared enough to think about politics Occupation/education: bridgemead high school super senior Mode of transportation: his parents dark blue prius!! but only thursday - sunday

Family Parent one: marcus pierce -- drug store manager Relationship with them: kody and his dad are best buds! if it weren’t for his fathers love for rollercoasters, kody doesn’t know what his life would be like today. they used to play rollercoaster tycoon growing up and kody still cherishes those memories today. Parent two: tina pierce -- bridgemead city manager Relationship with them: kody and his mother have a very loving relationship. however, kody’s adoration for his mother dwindled when it was her job that forced them to move to bridgemead. he thinks of it as her fault that he doesn’t get to go to disneyworld anymore, and there’s a bitter part of him that thinks that if she hadn’t made them leave, he never would’ve become a vampire. he knows its wrong to attribute her to his curse, but sometimes when he’s really sad he cant help it. Siblings: none Other important family members: his widowed aunt shirley who lives twenty minutes from disneyworld and occasionally would join them on their weekend visits to the parks. he misses her greatly 😩😩

Favorites Color: that bright electric blue color on the cinderella castle at disneyworld Music: electronic Food: a disneyworld churro. Film: the incredibles / scooby doo 2002 Drink: pink lemonadde mixed with sprite Form of entertainment: disney+ subscription. if that’s all he had, he’d be content. Most prized possession: a magic kingdom two day passport ticket from the 1980′s

Habits Hobbies: playing rollercoaster tycoon / designing rollercoasters on his computer. obsessively watching ghost club paranormal on youtube. bothering aj with the latest thing on his mind that she definitely doesn’t need to know about Plays a musical instrument?: nope. wishes he could though! Plays a sport?: nope, but would be great at track now that he’s a vampire! How he would spend a rainy day: playing kingdom hearts II in his pajamas. Spending habits: great at hoarding all of his allowance! since he’s not spending it on food, he’s an excellent saver. pre-vampirism kody was not as cautious with his spending. Smoking/drinking/drugs?: no way 🙅🏼 has yet to even try alcohol Extremely skilled at: cheering up his friends! finding the good in others and convincing them to see it too 🤗 Extremely unskilled at: stopping himself from crying when he’s sad / when he’s in the middle of crying. putting together pieces of their investigations. sure, he can find things -- but what the hell is he supposed to do with them once he’s got it?!?! Nervous tics: anxious picking at his cuticles. messing with his hair. aggressive foot tapping. scrolling through his phone without actually looking at anything. Usual body posture: that boy has been working on rollercoaster code on his computer for YEARS. his body posture is absolutely RUINED! Mannerisms: constantly talking with his hands. bouncin’ around like tigger when something exciting happens. abbreviating things that don’t need to be abbreviated. the loudest in the room at all times.

Traits Optimist or pessimist? Introvert or extrovert? Daredevil or cautious? Logical or emotional? Leader or follower? Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Prefers working or relaxing? Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Animal lover? HELL YEAH.

Self-perception How do they feels about themselves?: before the year 2020, kody actually quite liked himself! he realized that he was goofy and sometimes not everyones cup of tea, but for the most part, he knew he was a good guy who was a little obnoxious! now, he has mixed feelings about himself. vampirism has elevated a lot of his emotions and more often than not now, he dislikes himself for what he’s become, or what he could become if things turn bloody. One word the character would use to describe themselves: spunky What does the character consider their best trait?: his compassion What does the character consider their worst trait?: his gullibility What does the character consider their best physical characteristic?: his fluffy hair !! What does the character consider their worst physical characteristic?: that he’s a short king. stream short kings anthem by tiny meat gang How does the character think others perceive them?: he’s pretty sure most people think that he’s wildly annoying, but that doesn’t stop him from being fully himself most of the time! What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: his vampirism!! get this shit out of him just make him a normal aging boy again!!

Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: kody is a big ole’ ball of love, and thus so, he tries to share that with everyone. strangers are treated with compassion, acquaintances are treated as old friends, and friends are treated like family. unless kody already knows someone to be a bad person, or is wary of them, he’s genuinely one of the nicest people one could ever meet. Opinion of the Scooby Gang: talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it. Does the character hide their true opinions and emotions from others?: it depends on the topic, but for the most part, yes. when it comes to most scooby gang related endeavors, kody will share his thoughts -- if it’s something related to movies or tv, he’ll be talking your ear off for hours. if it’s something that could result in it hurting someone else, he’ll be quiet, and if his vampirism was ever to come into question, he’d be absolutely be suppressing it. Most important person in character’s life: oh god, not to pick scooby gang favorites, but probably aj. she’s the closest thing he has to a sister, and he doesn’t know what he would do without their banter, and her support. Best friend/s: aj darke, dylan frye, & arabella byrne Dating experience: absolutely none. kissed 2 girls in the span of 2 years over 3 years ago. Romancing: kody wouldn’t know the first thing about trying to get someone to date him. all he knows is the stuff he’s seen on tv, watched in movies, or experienced around him ( such as his parents successful marriage, or his friends dating people ), but if it were to come down to him, he’d be extremely awkward. picture tom holland’s spiderman trying to talk to zendaya’s mj in far from home -- because that’s extremely accurate. kody isn’t trying to date anyone right now for a couple of reasons: one being that he’s too nervous, and not exactly looking for love, but if it were to happen... he wouldn’t run from it necessarily. but two being that his vampirism creates a bit of a problem for him, and he’s not sure if he should subject anyone to the curse he’s stuck with.

Extra Physicality: if necessary, could probably lift a car and throw it down the street. as of right now, doesn’t know how strong he really is / is more concerned about hurting his friends with this supposed strength than he is finding out how many hundreds of pounds he could lift. kody in a fight? probably losing within the first five seconds, unless bloods drawn and the instinct to pounce takes over. Species: vampire How do they feel about it?: hates it. would do anything to reverse it. wishes he had just stayed a little longer at karma cafe that night. or had never gone at all. How do they look in their supernatural form?: pretty much the same, however when he’s hungry and near blood, his eyes go all dark and bloodshot, and the veins around his eyes start to pulse ( basically just like vampire diaries ), but kody is unaware of this since he’s never seen it happen to himself or another vampire

#bridgemeadtask01 #shoutout aaustinabrams for this gif #idk how to credit gif makers listen thats my credit right there

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