#its been ages since anyone has been in eden at the same time as me so seeing another skykid turn to dust was cool

[lulu2992]

Hi! I had a question. In multiple audios and even in game, there’s a pattern that John is fixated on pain and even women’s pain (Joey, Mary May, and the young woman he mentioned in the collapse that he killed after a night out because of anger) and even he was being a big creep when Mary May saw him for the first time (she was 16-17 wasn’t she), “eyeing her like a piece of meat”. If you can believe the ages given to us, he’s clearly much older than Mary May, and the cults been there for 9-10 years, she’d have to be minor.

My question is, why do you think the fandom and people dismiss his violent urges toward women and he was fixated on minor but still demonize Joseph when John was clearly unhinged on his own?

Sorry if its all wordy and all over the place, I just love your takes and respect your thoughts!

Hi! And thank you very much for your appreciation :)

We know John has a fixation with pain because of the “freeing” experience he explains he had when he was young, and he hurts people for this reason, but I really don’t think he enjoys inflicting it on women specifically. It’s probably a coincidence that Hudson is a woman and was sent to him instead of Jacob or Faith. The game never suggests that he would have treated Pratt or Burke differently if they had been placed in his “care” instead.

Someone in Far Cry 5 says John is “obsessed with the people in Fall’s End, and with Mary May in particular”, but nothing clearly indicates it’s because she’s a woman. The way I see it, it’s because the Resistance is strong in Fall’s End and Mary May is one of its “three biggest pillars”, as John himself wrote. Evidence shows he’s also “obsessed” with Jerome and Nick for the same reason: they keep resisting and fighting back. Mary May is stubborn, refuses to sell her business to Eden’s Gate, continues to serve alcohol, and essentially keeps saying “no” to John, so I think that explains why he has taken an interest in her. By the way, during the Deputy’s Atonement, even though Mary May is there, John mostly focuses on hurting Nick and Jerome instead, so it doesn’t look like he prefers torturing women to me.

And we’re not sure how old Mary May is, actually. The only official age we have for her is revealed in Far Cry Absolution: 30 years old. I know the Wiki says she was born in 1993 (so 25 years old in 2018) but I think that sounds young… For what it’s worth, Tasya Teles, who played Mary May in Far Cry 5, was born in 1985. And in the novel, John is said to be about 40, which makes much more sense, mathematically speaking, than his age on the Wiki (32 years old). When the Deputy arrives in Hope County, Eden’s Gate has been there for at least 9 years (since August 2009), so if John visited the Spread Eagle in 2009 and the age provided in Absolution is accurate, Mary May was about 21 at the time.

As for the woman John supposedly murdered before Joseph found him… like every new piece of information “revealed” in the Far Cry 6 Season Pass, I think it should be taken with a huge grain of salt. The incident was never mentioned anywhere else before, and while there’s no denying that John is capable of violence and murder, I don’t think him losing control and killing someone while he was working as a lawyer makes sense. According to The Book of Joseph, John Duncan’s anger was strong but it was also “suppressed”, so I doubt he would have physically assaulted anyone at that time. He was “full of rage” but apparently never let it out when he was still “society’s very model of success”.

So I don’t think the fandom ignores that John enjoys making women suffer, thought 16-year-old Mary May looked sexy, and murdered one of his lovers out of anger because these “facts” are all conjectures in the first place! If many people never mention those things about him, I think it’s simply because they know they’re not really canon and mostly come from the fan-created Wiki (which was also used as a source of information by Collapse’s writers). It’s undeniably canon that John is violent and obsessed with pain, but it’s not that he likes to inflict it on women specifically or that he committed murder as John Duncan, and Mary May being only 25 was never officially confirmed, either…

It’s true, however, that people tend to demonize Joseph more than his siblings and blame him for the bad things they do. He’s not innocent, of course, but John, Jacob, and Faith already had a lot of personal issues before they became his Heralds, and I disagree with those who say that they would have been better off without him. Things would have been different, yes, and maybe the cult wouldn’t have existed, but I don’t think their lives would have been better. In my opinion, they would all just have died sooner (and in poorer mental health)… In John’s case, considering he was on a self-destructive path and desperately trying to fill the void inside him, I believe he would have let “John Duncan” consume him completely and ended up drowning in his excesses.

So I agree with you when you say that John already was “unhinged on his own”, in a way, and that Joseph is often blamed for everything, even what he didn’t do. However, I wouldn’t say that the fandom dismisses the other things you mentioned because they’re not facts, just fan theories and interpretations not everybody likes or agrees with.

#far cry 5 #john seed #mary may fairgrave #joey hudson #joseph seed #jerome jeffries #nick rye #someone blocked me for saying the fc6 season pass was fanfiction but I never meant that as an insult #that just means the original writing teams weren’t involved #and the scriptwriter clearly said she took inspiration from reddit and the wiki(s) #so from what fans were saying basically #even if I had loved everything about the DLCs I would still call them ‘official fanfiction’ because it’s what they are #far cry 5 spoilers #far cry 6 collapse spoilers #joseph collapse spoilers

[sakuraalexia]

Info dump #3 - Siren Werewolves AU

Round three, this one is a little special, because I want to leave this thing as I chose to momentarily take off said story, which is Sing to the Moon Act 1 for now. I have not been updating the story since last November, as I lost a lot of interest in the Borderlands fandom for the time being, now that it is returning I remembered this fic exists.

I only wrote three chapters and it doesn’t have too many views so it is not a big deal, people ain’t reading it. I still have the plot I made and everything, for the first part, and I believe that, like I did years ago for Beyond the Reality, to write this one entirely or at least wait until it is almost done to post anything again, as I do meant to work on it but not update after this much time.

My Nier Automata/One Piece crossover still has priority, and like the other long fics, I had nearly a third of the chapters that are now out already done before I started posting, and now that it requires me less attention as it's nearing its end, I think I can finally focus on other stories again.

How the idea came to be: I simply did a little one shot with Maya and Lilith as two werewolves, and then I wanted to draw the sirens as wolves too, and wondered if it would have been a good idea for an actual story, loosely following the canon events of BL1, 2 and 3, with a little bit of TPS and Tales in it.  Divided in three stories, one for game, though arc two includes a bit of TPS and Tales.

The setting: Pretty much what we see in the games, however there is no such thing as different planets, instead they’re just different regions of the same one.

Pandora is the biggest region, and is the desert zone.

Promethea is this huge high tech city settlement out on the edge of the sea.

Athenas is the mountain area populated with monasteries.

Eden 6 is the whole jungle forest area.

Nekrotefayo, mysterious ancient ruins.

Xylourgos is the ice desert, a massive iceberg in the far north.

Handsome Jackpot, a massive casino that could very well be a city of its own.

Gehenna, a massive canyon.

Elpis, the volcanic region.

Helios, a technological facility of the Hyperion corporation. 

Of course there are the whole corporations, factions and everything too, not much was changed about them, or at all. 

Wolves and hunters: In this world, all humans have a dormant genome that could turn them into wolves should said gene sufficiently manage to integrate with a human’s DNA. Anyone can be a wolf, it is decided upon birth, however, the child of a human with an active wolf genome will always result as a werewolf too. Only a single parent between the two with it is sufficient to trigger it in the child. Werewolves can be of any gender.

There are people here that strive for peace between the races, and who would only want to exterminate all the wolves, said to be dangerous for their lack of control upon transforming. Transformations only happen during full moons, and can’t happen before a subject becomes 13 years of age, as their body wouldn’t be strong enough to handle turning.

However, there are a few “blessed” wolves between their kind, called sirens. The name comes from ancient times, said to have an enchanting voice when they sing/howl. 

These people, usually female in gender, have on their bodies the “marks of the moon”, a set of blue glowing tattoos on the left side of their body. This particular type of wolves, thanks to their markings, can have full control over their abilities and turn as wolves and back any time they desire, though they are still subjected to forcefully turn on full moon nights, as in new moon nights they can’t access said power and need to stay in human form.

The marks can’t be controlled nor inherited even from the parents, that is why they are referred to as a blessing.

Wolf appearance: I am only going to tell the ones of the sirens as it is obvious that they all will be wolves and shown as such, but I’ll leave other characters out for the sake of not spoiling too many things. 

Appearance depends on each character and changes depending on their looks as humans.

Lilith: Reddish brown fur color and yellow eyes, she keeps the bangs at the left side of her head. Small and pretty scrawny type of wolf, she’s a tiny one but a very fast runner. Very fierce, growls a lot, even as a human.

Tannis: Sandy colored fur and green eyes, she has a darker brown tuft on top of her head like her hair. She’s even smaller than Lilith, not much of a fighter, but good at outsmarting others. Very noisy and talkative. 

Steele: She’s a purely white wolf, takes after her albinism, has yellow eyes, and keeps her signature tresses. Tall and slim, not too much fur on her, she looks weak in appearance but she can be pretty strong and brutal if she so desires. Highly loyal.

Maya: Fur black as the night, gray eyes, and two long bangs at the side of her head (that will grow longer in part 3). Somewhat in the middle between Lilith and Steele’s height, has a lot of fur on her, especially around her neck, and a longer tail, this gives her a somewhat “royal” look, makes her look bigger than she is. Has a really nice voice/howl but doesn’t use it very often.

Angel: Silver gray coat and blue eyes, she has a black long tuft of fur that covers her left eye and a small ponytail in the back of her head. Small, around Tannis’ size, scrawny with not much fur on her. Shy and not very strong, needs lots of protection, but is very smart.

Amara: Dark brown coat, purple eyes, and a black tuft of hair on her head, and a ponytail at the back. Tall, big and muscly, big paws too. Looks very menacing but is also a big softie, very loyal and playful, loves to show off.

Tyreen: Sandy colored coat but darker than Tannis’ one, blue eyes, has a white tuft of hair on the head. Small, around Tannis’ size, has a short tail. Bites, a lot, and loves to do that on anyone just to annoy people, or hurt them, whatever suits her fancy.

Troy: Same color as Tyreen, eyes too, only that the tuft on the head is black. He’s very tall but not much muscle on him, also as a wolf he misses his entire right front leg, also has a shorter tail too. Likes to bite as much as Tyreen does, also his bigger body allows him to easily tackle other people/wolves even without a leg, because he is so heavy.

Ava: Dark gray coat, dark gray blue eyes. She’s pretty much a pup wolf, tiny and scrawny, with not much fur on her yet, she’s got to grow some more. Playful and noisy, loves getting into trouble.

Again there are other wolves too, but these are obvious they can be spoiled already, the rest not so much. Hopefully I’ll get to work on this again soon. I have a lot on my plate at the moment, even outside projects, drawings and stories. 

#borderlands #info dump #story infos

[skyabove]

Looks like there's been a few minor updates to the animations in Eden

Idk how recent they are because I don't do Eden that much but we now do the 'don't go emote reach before dieing rather than just stopping and putting a hand over our core

It was really hard to get a screenshot but you can just about make out that this person was kneeling and leaning forward before disintegrating

The other thing is, has the walk animation in the Inbetween (glow kid limbo) changed? I don't remember the skykids holding one arm out the whole time, I think it used to be the same as the stumbling animation

#its interesting that they are tweaking things in eden #especially skykid stuff #i got some more photos of the megabird gate too so i might make another post about that #its been ages since anyone has been in eden at the same time as me so seeing another skykid turn to dust was cool #scotl #sky children of the light #thatskygame #eden spoilers

[jellifysh]

Getting Back Into the Swing of Things (part three)

Or, Namjoon falls back in love with his ex (and his boyfriends do too)

Ot7 x reader (roommates au, fluff, slow burn, jin has so much room in his heart, everyone's getting used to you)

Taglist open!: @sunshinehobissunshine @pb-n-juju @bunnyrhe @iamhereforbts @eden-lee96 @7soulsbts @tinyoonsblog @royalchickens @urvirtualgfteehee @fangirlnonsense @deathincarnation @alngelias @jinswifeyy @not-today-19 @btsizlyfe @justsomoneliving @purplelady85 @just-me-and-myselfs @tubaotter @thinkaholicer @kookstempo @retrojennie @squishyturtle

babes if your name's red, I can't tag you! </3

Growing up, Jin was confused why people made such a big deal about liking boys or girls. He found it strange why people made big deals about anything, really, and at his ripe age of 29, he still didn't get why it mattered what anyone else did.

He was pretty in touch with his sense of self and tried not to overthink it. Some of the others had more rigid labels, but not Jin. He liked men, mostly, but that didn't mean he found women unattractive, and if it felt right, he wouldn't be opposed to dating one. He just thought that time had past, falling into routine with the other pieces of his soul in a place they had made home. They were perfect, their big loud family, and some would argue that seven is already too much.

But Namjoon's always had a way of surprising him, and while he had not technically brought you here with the intention of making you a permanent part of their lives, Jin knows that you wouldn't be this important to Namjoon if you weren't something special, and he's always trusted Namjoon's judgment.

Jin's being ridiculous of course, he usually is, even he could admit. He often jumps to conclusions without thinking things all the way through, and indulges in fleeting daydreams before resigning himself back to reality. Friends is a more likely result of all this. But the romantic in him is always thinking.

And honestly, walking in on you half covered in flour, a mixing bowl bigger than your head in front of you as you pored over the recipe for 'Perfect Chocolate Chip Waffles!' Jin had pinned to the fridge was enough fodder for Jin's domestic daydreams.

The other brats in this house treated cooking with him as a chore-- teasingly, he knew. If he really expressed how much he wanted to cook with them, they'd join in a heartbeat, but its nice to have someone that just shares the same enthusiasm as you-- maybe with you here, he'd have a cooking buddy.

And honestly, you worried Jin a little. You were a little on the underfed side, wrists too thin and appetite too small. Its been a week since you'd gotten here and the food he left out for you was only ever half eaten. You were tall and lanky, only about an inch shorter than Jimin, but the slim man had more meat on his bones than you.

Maybe, if he could get you to help him more in the kitchen, you'd actually sit at the table for dinner where he could keep and eye on you.

For now though, he'd make sure you didn't cover everything in waffle batter.

"Lower the mixing speed," he said, making his presence known instead of lurking in the doorway. "And you didn't add nearly enough chocolate chips." He tossed in another fourth of the bag, holding the bowl steady while you flipped the switch on.

"Oh, thank you." You chirped.

You had woken up early, too exhausted for job hunting today and decided to try and make something for the people graciously letting you stay in their house.

Eggs? Cinnamon buns? Pancakes? You settled on chocolate chip waffles after seeing the recipe and fancy looking waffle maker on the shelf. You hoped they wouldn't mind and that the waffles would soften any anger.

How many waffles do eight people need? You always ate at least two, but these were grown men, and you had observed from the aftermath of the dinners that they ate a lot.

You had been trying not to but, in the process of baking, you effectively made a mess. Butter smears on the counter, flour all over the floor, and maybe you ate more of the chocolate chips than you should've (but they were tasty!)

When Seokjin came to help you, you were honestly thankful. You were scared of messing something up without knowing it, the pristine kitchen daunting in its foreigness, so with him here you felt less scared to be in the kitchen.

The two of you stood there for a moment watching the mixture spin before he turned to you. "You know, Yoongi forgot to buy the whipped cream last he went to the store," he smiled like he was sharing a secret with you. "You wanna learn how I make my 'Amazing Homemade Whipped Cream'?"

And of course you did.

You got all the ingredients-- heavy cream and powdered sugar, and a dash of vanilla-- and set to mixing. Jin insisted that it tasted better when hand mixed, and made it easier to prevent overwhipping.

You grabbed the whisk, trying to make fast, tight circles to whip the mixture quickly. "Wait, no, not quite so fast," Jin grabbed your hand over the whisk, his chest pressing into your back momentarily. "Be a bit looser, try to get it all mixed, not just the center." Your hands moved as one for a long moment, your heart speeding up a bit. You told yourself to calm down, he was just showing you how to whisk.

"Like this?" You asked, blinking up at him through your lashes-- as the man was much taller than you and very close-- then blinking more when some flour fell off your eyelash.

"Good girl, that's perfect. Hold still and I'll wipe that flour off you, okay?" He grabbed a napkin, wetting it a little, and went to gently wiping the flour off your face. He had grasped your chin, tilting it up ever so slightly and you had averted your eyes to the buttons on his night shirt.

This is fine. He is just wiping flour off your face. He called you a good girl in a totally casual, friendly way, no big deal. You glanced up for a second seeing his warm smile accompanied by a flicker of something darker and hungrier in his eyes, and glanced away again.

He eventually released you, deciding to start cooking the waffles now that all the chips had been mixed in and you were otherwise occupied with whipping.

One by one, you watched the waffle stack pile up high, and eventually finished the bowl of whipped cream.

"Would you do me a favor and start brewing some coffee? Yoongi can't live without it and I'm craving a cup today too." Jin said, flipping another waffle out the machine.

"Sure." You answered, tapping at the fancy Keurig coffeemaker and making the flavors Jin told you he and Yoongi liked. You popped another one in there, only half thinking, one you remembered Namjoon liked, and ended up preparing a whole cup for him-- the cream, sugar, and syrup you would use before when you two would pull all-nighters-- before realizing Jin hadn't asked you to make this one.

"Who's that for?" He asked, as you placed down the third cup shakily.

"Umm... Namjoon, I guess. I kinda made it without thinking."

Jin had a knowing smile on his face. "Old habits, huh?"

You chuckled. "Yeah, I guess. Namjoon's parents had a Keurig too, when I stayed over I'd make him coffee. He doesn't like coffee much but he always said he loved when I made it." A small smile slipped out and you bit your lip to try and hide it.

"That's cute." Jin bumped his hip with yours. "Was Namjoon always such a hopeless romantic?"

You thought hard, tilting your head. "No? Not at first, anyway. He was hard to get close to. I thought he hated me at first, honestly. But after he would be kinder, more spontaneous, he'd take me on bike rides or out for ice cream randomly."

"Hmm. Maybe he learned it from you." A teasing smile this time. You dismissed the thought. "I doubt it, he's--"

Light footsteps coming into the kitchen interrupted your train of thought. Yoongi came in looking like death, skin pale and the bags under his eyes dark. "Coffee." He grumbled.

"You handed him his cup, a dark blue mug Jin said was his favorite. He took a sip, plopping into a stool next to the kitchen island.

"Mm, this is better than usual babe." Yoongi paused to say, only for a moment before taking another gulp.

"Y/n made the coffee actually." Jin said, plopping out another waffle.

Yoongi directed his attention to you. "Can you make it like this every day?"

"I could try?" You shrugged, the oversized shirt you slept in slipping your shoulder. Jin fixed it back for you.

"Please stay forever." Yoongi begged, drowning himself in coffee again.

"Yah, you never ask me to stay forever when I make you a good cup. What's so special about this one?" Jin had his arms on his hips now, staring down Yoongi and tapping his foot.

Yoongi took a second to breathe, already having downed half his cup. "It's not ridiculously sweet."

"I don't make mine ridiculously sweet!"

"You do, you always add extra sugar--"

"Sorry for assuming you wouldn't want to drink a cup of dirt!"

You broke out in giggles, unable to help yourself, thinking the situation was hilarious. Yoongi gestured at you, mug still in his hand. "See, even y/n thinks you're being ridiculous."

"I didn't say that," you gasped, shocked at being suddenly put on the spot.

"Y/n! How could you betray me like this? After I shared my Amazing Homemade Whipped Cream recipe with you?" Jin turned to you, mouth open in faux shock.

"Oh, please, you stole that from Food Network." Yoongi rolled his eyes playfully. "Besides, I don't have to worry about you going anywhere. Lord knows we couldn't you get to leave even if we tried."

"That's right, so you better enjoy the things I make for you! Y/n's not gonna be here forever."

Yoongi turned to address you again. "When you get a place of your own, would you be willing to come over everyday to make me coffee?"

"That depends. Do I have to wake up this early?"

"I'll drink coffee at midnight if it's this good."

"You drink coffee at midnight anyways." Jin scoffed.

"Okay, then its a deal." You nodded.

"I can't believe you, plotting to get rid of me in front of my own eyes!"

You laughed again, interacting so simply with them being very new to you. But maybe this is just how they were. Maybe they weren't so scary, like you thought, because for the past week you've been a bit... tense.

Well, okay, you were way past tense.

You were sure you'd never been so anxious in your life.

You felt so confused when you first got here, what does one even do when sharing a house with their ex and his six boyfriends?

Hide, apparently, because that's all you've been doing.

Well, not all. You had a schedule worked out.

You would wake up super early. This was mostly involuntary. Sleep came slowly to you nowadays and left just as quickly. You would go out and look for potential places of business to apply for. Namjoon's place was right in the middle of the city so these weren't hard to come by. However, looking for places that accepted college dropouts, especially from design school was difficult. You would do this for awhile, sometimes coming back at breakfast, sometimes at noon.

Namjoon would call when you stayed out too long, tell you he saved you breakfast, tell you to come home.

(Home? That place didn't seem to quite fit you. Them, sure, with their endless decorations and awards and pictures on the wall. You had no place there, no sign of your stay there. And it was honestly for the better. As soon as you could get financially stable again, you'd be out of there, and away from Namjoon and his picture perfect life, where you didn't belong anymore.)

Next, once you were home you would walk around the outskirts of the, frankly, huge house. There was a cluster of pretty flowers and bushes, tucked away in the corner of the backyard. Namjoon or someone seemed to have had a garden running at some point, but now it was overgrown weeds and shrubs and wildflowers. You had found gardening equipment in a nearby shed and had taken to fixing it up again.

The wildflowers were just too pretty though, so whatever you plucked you'd sit up in a plain looking vase you found in a cabinet, hoping they wouldn't be upset about you using it without permission, and placed it on the kitchen table. Someone must've noticed, picking it up and putting it back down, because it was be shifted around the table some days, twisted a different direction than you put it down.

You would sit on the bench swing, also seemingly abandoned, half hidden behind bushes. You were perfectly in the shade and could stare up at the clouds for hours, or read a book. There was a pool you were too scared to use, not that you had a bathing suit for it anyways, but you weren't sure how much liberty you had in treating this place like a hotel. You would stare into it though, at your reflection, wondering what other people saw when they looked at you.

You'd also picked up origami, making cute little turtles and bunnies and bears and snails, everything you could find a tutorial for. You did this inside and outside. Late at night, when most of the guys were in bed cuddling and talking and other things, you'd sit free and undisturbed in the living room. Sometimes you would sketch or paint out on the porch, you had so much more time to get back to your hobbies now that you weren't constantly scrounging for a meal.

Of course, sometimes, sleep would get the better of you, and folding paper can only be so entertaining. One blink, then two, then you're gone, laying back on the couch with paper animals around you.

Which is how the guys would often find you, face pressed soft against the cushion, and some would place a blanket over you.

Namjoon would sometimes carry you back to your room, if only to press you closer a little. The cute scrunch of your nose when fighting to stay asleep was so hard to look away from. It reminded him of lost nights, sleepless and sleepy all at once, feeling like you had to spill all your secrets before bed, all your theories on the universe. And the origami you'd been working on was becoming pretty precise. He scooped up a handful of paper animals, fitting them in around the house. You would wake up sometimes and go to make breakfast only to pass your origami added to the mix of trinkets on the fireplace.

The kitchen table, Jin decided, had been missing a centerpiece. The wildflowers you selected looked so perfect, like they belonged there all along. Everyday a new assortment of bright yellows, pinks, purples, and green would be sitting on his tabletop. How had you been struggling before when everything you did seemed worth paying millions for? He would pick up the case, turn it, twist it, look at in the light, in the shade, everything. How you managed to find something pretty in that old vine-ruined garden was beyond him, but he is eagerly waiting for what you bring every morning next.

Jungkook had seen better canvases. Out on the porch, you leave your paintings to dry, your sketches to tan to in the sun. He had better canvases, sitting somewhere in the house probably. The canvas you used was cheap, turning even your most delicate strokes rough and shoddy. And yet, they still had charm to them. Maybe it was the colors. Jungkook could even recognize a painting you did from following along with a Bob Ross video, signed with a cute lil heart next to your initials in the corner. Maybe he'll ask to join next time, if he could catch you out of your room. (If he wasn't too shy.)

After the creative activities of the day, you'd watch movies or TV in your room, trying to sleep but failing. You'd eat dinner in your room, too. You had made a habit out of using your phone less, using too much data was more than you could afford.

The first couple nights you cried a little and then one night you cried a lot, but you've been doing that less since you found a cute yellow puppy plushie sitting outside your door for you. When you felt like crying, you'd hold it and think about who in the house might have placed this welcoming gift. Maybe Namjoon, maybe Jin, but whoever it was, it was a reminder that maybe you weren't totally unwelcome here.

Because honestly, as nice as the first night's dinner was, you felt like you were. They all worked like crazy, some staying only to work at home all day, computer keyboards clacking and phone calls leaking out from closed doors. It made you scared to make more than a peep, and not just that, but you felt as if you being avoided.

You had had a pleasant conversation with him that first night, but Taehyung seems to have changed his opinion on you, slipping out the room when you entered or avoiding eye contact, and Hoseok also seemed to be maintaining a friendly impersonalness on your interactions, polite but never more. And Jungkook was a combination of both, always trying to slip away, but made the effort to at least say hello and goodbye.

It only spurred your need to escape the house, to avoid having to make them pretend in their own home.

You were brought back into reality by loud footsteps this time. "Mmm, is that waffles?" Namjoon stumbled into the kitchen, sleepily, kissing Yoongi on the cheek and then Jin. He turned to you and blinked, suddenly more awake. You were usually gone to... wherever you go so early in the morning by now. It was nice though, to see you talking and laughing in his kitchen with his family. It felt... right.

"Good morning," he ended up saying.

"Good morning." you said back.

"She made you a coffee," Jin cut in, taking out the last waffle and placing the full plate onto the island in the kitchen, pulling out table mats and cutlery.

"You did?" Namjoon blinked at you again, surprised. He didn't usually drink coffee, usually going for tea in the mornings, but he sure wasn't going to turn you down.

You nodded, handing him the cup, and he might've brushed his fingers over yours even though there was enough space not to, but soon that moment was gone and you were watching expectantly for his reaction to the coffee. "I don't think I made it exactly like I used to, but here."

Like you used to. Smooth and creamy and sweet, the way Namjoon is always hoping for whenever he makes coffee for himself, deciding to try it again, but he can never make it quite right, the way you do.

You were here though, and making it for him again. Maybe he'll be drinking it more. He took a long sip, feeling the warmth flood into his skin like a blanket wrapped around him. He smiled involuntarily. "It's perfect. Thank you."

You nodded, looking away now, fiddling with your fingers. "You're welcome."

"You know what?" Jin cut in. "We should eat in the family room today, watch a movie, maybe? We're all home for once."

"Sounds nice." Yoongi placed down his empty mug. Namjoon nodded.

"Great, why don't you and Y/n go get comfy, and me and Yoongi will bring the food and wake everyone else."

"Oh, me too?"

"Of course, darling, you live here so you're a part of whatever we do. Movie nights, game nights, family dinners."

"Oh."

"Come on, let's go sit. The family room has a bunch of cozy blankets and this big screen door, its nice when it gets cold and we just let the morning air flow in."

You nodded. "Everything about this house is so beautiful. You're all very creative if you designed it yourselves. But I guess that only makes sense considering you all have creative careers."

"Yeah, it definitely comes in handy. Not so much with the paperwork stuff though." He joked. "It was really Tae and Jimin who took control of the whole thing. They have a real eye for stuff like this."

"Maybe in another life we'd get along." You smiled wryly.

"I'm sorry. Jimin can be... standoffish, when it comes to strangers. And I'm to blame for not telling everybody about us." He held the door to the movie room open for you to enter, the comfortable couches and chairs and fluffy blankets and pillows on every available surface.

You walked in slowly, coming to a stop in the middle of the room. He thought that would be the end of it, that you would just pick a seat and sit and you both would catch up on each other's lives maybe, but then you said, "It's fine, Namjoon. It's not like there's much to tell."

He paused in his walk into the room, thrown off by the way you said that, almost dispassionately. "What?"

"I just mean, we dated for a bit, it didn't work out, we moved on. I'd hardly say it's worth mentioning." You turned to him, talking as if discussing the weather casually.

"Hardly worth mentioning? Our parents knew each other."

"Because they were neighbors."

"So what, you think our whole relationship was just because we were neighbors?"

"No, of course not, we were best friends. It's just, we confused that closeness for romance."

"That's what you think?"

"Well, what do you think?"

Namjoon didn't get a chance to answer, Jin entering the room with two giant bowls of popcorn and everybody in tow. Jimin and Hoseok still looked half asleep.

"You two haven't sat down yet? Pick a couch, go ahead."

You went and sat on a single hanging chair in the corner, and wrapped the blanket folded on the chair over yourself, curling up like a cat.

Namjoon sighed and sat down on of the larger couches, Jin immediately snuggling into his side and Jimin into the other, falling back asleep. Taehyung and Jungkook started to argue over what movie to put on.

"What's wrong?" Jin murmured quietly into his ear. Namjoon shook his head, not wanting to talk about it. Jin continued, "Did you two argue or something?" Namjoon's silence told him all he needed to know and he faced the television again as Shang-Chi started to play.

Namjoon couldn't be entirely surprised. He hoped you'd think better of him than someone who dated you out of some strange confusion of their feelings but it's probably what he deserved for letting you go so quickly, when you probably needed him most, considering how the years seemed to have treated you.

What he thought of your relationship was that it felt right. Like home. And maybe he was looking at all through rose-tinted glasses, or maybe you'd felt differently the whole time, but he hoped that he was a comfort for you too, back then.

He knew then that he would have his work cut out for him. Since you've been here you've dismissed any sort of offer for companionship, any movie nights or outings to places nearby. If he was going to make you feel comfortable here he'd have to start with fixing what had obviously broken.

Your spirit.

#ot7 x reader #ot7 x yn #bts x y/n #bts x reader #poly! bts x reader #gbist #namjoon realizes he's made mistakes #your self esteem is in the garbage #m/c is trying so hard to act like she doesn't exist she may as well be living in the walls

[queenshelby]

The Judge’s Daughter (Part Two)

Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Virgin!Reader

Words: 4,753

 Warning: Angst, Drugs, Smut

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal  @chrisevanshoeee  @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse  @captivatedbycillianmurphy  @fookingshelby  @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  

………

Struggling

After your intimate moment with Tommy, you both had become distant. You were angry at him and felt mislead.

How could you have fallen for a man like this? A man who was known to toy with women and who, in his own words, was incapable of loving.

Your desire for this man was almost painful, too much to bear. Even after he told you that what happened between you was a mistake and despite your anger towards him, you still wanted him. Why, you didn’t understand.

Over the course of the day, Tommy arranged another meeting with his brother Arthur and his aunt Polly Gray. The meeting was being conducted at your house. After all, it was Saturday and Tommy’s hearing to have the arrest warrant dropped wasn’t taking place until Monday. This meant, he still had to hide.

No one but close family knew he was staying with you and, after what had happened with Jimmy McCaven’s men and following what Jesse Eden had told him, matters needed to be attended to rather urgently.

What you didn’t know was that Tommy had arranged for his men to keep an eye on your father. He knew that he was in danger if McCaven’s men didn’t return following their attempted attack on you.

But, his aunt Polly didn’t agree with his decision and you overheard them talk about you and your father.

‘I don’t understand why you would be protecting the man who wanted you arrested Tommy’ Polly asked.

‘I have my reason Pol, you just need to trust me, eh’ Tommy said.

‘Is your reason a woman?’ Polly asked somewhat annoyed. ‘Because what you should be doing is give up Y/N Rosenberg and her father to Mosley and McCavern. This would make them less suspicious about you. But what you are doing instead is protect these people. Why?’ Polly asked.

‘Because it’s the right thing to do Pol. McCavern will be dealt with over the weekend and will no longer pose a problem. Some of Abrahama Gold’s men got themselves arrested yesterday and will deal with McCavern in prison. It will appear to have been a revenge killing, completely out of my control. Then I am just left to deal with Mosley’ Tommy explained.

‘Thomas Shelby, doing something because it’s the bloody right thing to do. Don’t fucking lie to me. Are you fucking her?’ Polly asked.

‘Am I fucking who?’ Tommy asked.

‘Y/N Rosenberg. Your judgment in this matter is questionable and it’s always a fucking woman when you can’t think straight. Your love for Grace almost got us all killed when you revenged her death. I am not ready to go through this again Thomas’ Polly said.

‘Don’t fucking mention Grace alright. This has nothing to do with Grace or any woman for this matter of fact’ Tommy said.

‘Alright Pol, it’s time to go. We have stuff do’ Arthur said, trying to break up the argument between her and Tommy.

‘Fine, I am coming’ Polly said as she walked to the car without paying any further attention to you and without saying goodbye.

‘Be careful brother, eh’ Arthur said as he left.

After Arthur and Polly had left, you finally found the courage and want to speak to Tommy again after what happened.

‘Thank you for protecting my father’ you said after Tommy walked into the kitchen.

‘It’s the least I can do Y/N’ he said.

‘Would you like some tea? I have just boiled the kettle’ you asked.

‘I would love some tea. Thank you’ Tommy said with a warm smile. This is the first time since the day before that you hadn’t talked to him full of anger.

‘I saw Arthur giving you another bottle of opium’ you said.

‘Yes, he did’ Tommy responded rather bluntly.

‘I don’t want you to take this stuff in my house Tommy. It’s bad for you’ you said, somewhat concerned about his health and wellbeing.

‘It’s bad for me, eh?’ Tommy chuckled.

‘It will kill you one day. Just like it killed my brother’ you said.

‘And why would you care if it did, eh? It’s not up to you to fucking save me Y/N’ Tommy said rather annoyed.

‘Because I care for you Thomas Shelby. I don’t know why, but I do’ you said.

‘I am not who you think I am. I do bad things Y/N’ Tommy explained.

‘I know, but what I’ve noticed is that you do them to a good end and that’s all that matters to me’ you said, causing Tommy to chuckle.

‘I can’t be with you. Not now’ Tommy said.

‘Why? Is it because I am too young?’ you wondered.

‘No, it’s because I am in fucking love with you, alright. Being with me will put you in danger and I cannot fucking lose anyone else I care about. Everyone I ever loved is dead now Y/N. Every fucking one’ Tommy said dishearted and full of passion and anger at the same time.

‘Well, Thomas Shelby, then I will wait for you until danger passes’ you said.

‘You might be waiting a long time Y/N’ Tommy chuckled.

‘I know’ you responded as you walked over to him and caressed his face.

‘Why would you want to waste your time waiting for a man like me, eh?’ Tommy asked, his hand running over your cheek gently.

‘Because I am also in love with you Thomas Shelby’ you said and, just like that, he leaned in to kiss you again.

The kiss started off slow and gentle but soon became urgent and heated.

It had only been midday but you desperately wanted him to take you to your bedroom yet again.

Your desire within you to be with him grew as your kisses became more passionate by the second.

You truly were in love, for the first time in your life.

‘I want you to make love to me’ you said as your lips drifted apart.

‘Y/N, its noon’ Tommy chuckled.

‘And? Do you have somewhere to be?’ you asked.

‘Apparently not’ Tommy smirked as he lifted you up with the intention to carry you to the bedroom.

‘Let me have a bath first, I’ve been out in the garden’ you said with a smile and Tommy put you back down to the floor.

‘See you upstairs then eh’ Tommy said and, just like this, you disappeared into the bathroom.

The First Time

You scrubbed yourself clean in the bath, nervous and excited, eager and hesitant.

On one hand, you were rushing, trying to get out to Tommy as quickly as you could. On the other, you knew the moment you opened the bathroom door, everything would change.

Something as simple as dressing after your shower took minutes to figure out. It seemed silly to put clothes on, knowing that Tommy was about to remove them. Walking out with nothing on, though, was beyond what your modesty would allow.

You finally decided to compromise with a silk robe, which you had hung in the bathroom earlier that day.

After you put it on, a smile played across your face as you stared in the mirror. Whilst you were nervous, you trusted Tommy and you wanted this. You wanted him.

Once your hair was dry, the robe was on, and you had sufficiently stared at yourself in the mirror, you took a deep breath and opened the door.

Tommy was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his undergarments.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, he stood up. His lips parted, but he didn't speak.

‘I'm ready’ you said softly.

He came to you and took your hand.

‘Are you sure that this is what you want?’ Tommy asked, knowing that this was going to be your first time sleeping with a man.

‘Yes Tommy. I want this. I want you’ you said.

‘I know, you're set on this. But if you change your mind or if something isn't feeling right you need tell me, alright?’ Tommy said.

‘Yes Tommy’ you responded before leaning forward to kiss him.

As you kissed, Tommy let go of your hand, running his hand up the side of the robe to your shoulders before removing it, exposing your naked body.

He gazed over your body with his deep blue eyes. You were nervous as you stood in front of him entirely vulnerable, but you refused to let your nervousness control you.

After the robe landed on the ground and Tommy had the chance to stare at your naked body the first time, his hands travelled back up your sides, grazing your breasts lightly before they reached your neck. Cupping your face with both hands, he brought you in for another kiss.

‘You are so fucking beautiful’ Tommy said, making you smile almost with embarrassment.

‘If you think so’ you giggled.

‘I know so’ Tommy smirked before telling you to lie on the bed.

He guided you onto the bed, fluffing the pillows around you so you were cradled in a nest of clouds, propped up so you weren’t quite lying flat on your back. When he was satisfied that you were comfortable, he joined you.

Again, he kissed you, and again you felt your limbs go weak as your mind went dizzy. Hovering over you, his head was a silhouette in the golden glow of the lamp in the corner.

‘What am I supposed to do?’ you asked nervously. Since your mother passed at a young age and you had no older sisters, you didn’t really have anyone to talk about sex with you.

‘Relax and let me take care of you’ Tommy smirked.

His lips pressed against yours before you could respond. Then they pressed to your chin, a gentle caress before moving on to your neck. His hair fell to the side of his face, tickling your skin as he feathered his way to your collarbone, his lips worshiping each patch of skin they pressed against. The tip of his tongue traced paths from freckle to freckle, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he mapped out your skin.

Fingertips brushed against your breast, prodding lightly as he held one in his hand. The kisses journeyed on, marking your chest and the tops of your breasts until his face was nestled in your cleavage. Again, his tongue darted out, finding an especially sensitive spot between your breasts that made me tremble beneath him.

The mix of anticipation and apprehension was intoxicating. You wanted to lose yourself under Tommy’s body, revelling in the feel of his lips against you, but the fear and excitement of what was to come clouded your mind. You told yourself to relax, to enjoy what was happening, to embrace the new sensations and the way electricity seemed to spark at Tommy’s lips and travel through your body. But your mind kept playing tricks on you and your nervousness took over.

Tommy glanced up at you, aware of the tension running through you.

‘Tell me what you're thinking’ Tommy said.

You bit your lip, not wanting to admit that you were out of your comfort zone.

‘Just a little nervous’ you whispered.

‘Do you want to stop?’ Tommy asked.

‘No’ you said as you finally closed your eyes and let your sensations take over your mind.

Tommy sucked on your nipple, then flicked it with his tongue, and a jolt of that captivating electricity shot to your core.

You moaned quietly as the hot wetness of his mouth moved against you.

You hadn't expected it to feel so good and Tommy spent quite a while there. Your enjoyment of what his mouth was doing was obvious to him. It wasn't until you squirmed beneath him, your pussy so wet you could hardly stand it, that he tore his heated attention away from your nipples and began kissing the underside of your breast.

He kissed your ribs, his tongue resuming its roaming from freckle to dotted freckle down your stomach. Both hands gripped your sides as he nuzzled against your belly button, then lowered to your hips as his lips moved an inch lower. He kissed that spot, and then an inch lower than that, and again until his lips reached the top of your mound.

You watched, your lips parting in astonishment as his head moved between your legs.

You were completely unprepared for what he was about to do. Sure, you had heard rumours of it, but in your naive little mind, you had thought it was just a joke, an urban legend, that people didn't actually do that. But there you were with Tommy in between your legs, pleasuring you with his tongue.

‘Oh god Tommy’ was all that came out of your mouth, a breathless squeak of shock at the foreign feel of his tongue pressed against your inner lips. You felt Tommy smile, saw his eyes practically sparkle just before he looked away and licked along your slit completely.

It was by far the strangest sensation that you had experienced, though not in a bad way. He explored you thoroughly, his tongue tracing every curve and crevice and even dancing along your entrance. He kissed you everywhere, from the ticklish spot where your leg met the swell of your pussy to nearly the lowest edge of your slit.

But, it wasn't until his lips surrounded your clit and he sucked incredibly gently that you understood just how much pleasure his tongue could give you.

Your eyes pinched shut as Tommy began to focus his attention there. He alternated what he was doing, spending time licking it, circling it, sucking it, and stroking it. You gasped for breath, the chills that ran through your body almost exhausting to keep up with, and a steady stream of quiet groans found their way out of your mouth without even consulting your mind.

He shifted slightly at one point, bringing your legs over his shoulders. Your thighs touched his ears, his hair tickling the inner spots that it brushed against as he lapped at you possessively, practically drinking the juices that were flooding your crease. You couldn't help but stare, watching as he ravished you, entranced at the sight of him pleasuring you in a way you hadn't even known possible.

The overwhelming feeling of losing control had just begun to prick through you when Tommy stuck a finger inside you.

‘Fuck’ you moaned as you held onto the sheets tightly while his finger entered you and his tongue never left your clit. Again, just as you groaned loudly, you could feel the foreign feeling of a smile against your most private place.

Moments later, he inserted a second finger just like the previous night. But, this time, with you lying beneath him, he found a spot you didn't know was there, the pad of his fingers pressing against it as he flattened his tongue against your clit.

‘Oh god Tommy, fuck…’ you moaned as the ascent quickened, rushing you towards the edge.

Your hands found Tommy’s head and you ran your fingers through his hair without thinking, instinctively desperate for something to hold on to. He didn't stop what he was doing as your legs tensed, didn't react when your wordless gasp turned to a muffled shriek, and didn't let go as you submitted to the lightning that consumed your body as your orgasm washed over you.

Your back arched and your thighs pressed harder against his head. Your eyes weren't open, but all you saw was white light as your body shook, everything from your toes to your fingers going numb with an electric passion that burst through you. It could have been seconds or minutes or hours; you had no concept of anything but radiating euphoria for a stretch of time.

When your body relaxed, it relaxed completely. Your thighs fell away from Tommy’s head and your fingers unfurled, releasing the grip you had on his hair. He withdrew his fingers from inside you and pressed a final kiss to the top of your mound before sitting up and grinning as he wiped his mouth.

You tried to say something but you weren’t sure what, exactly, to say. You wanted to apologise for pulling his hair. You wanted to thank him and kiss him and tell him you would be his forever if he asked you. It was likely for the best that you couldn't speak, just opened and closed your mouth a few times before shutting your eyes and groaning.

He sidled up alongside you, taking you into his arms as you regained your breath.

‘Are you okay?’ he smirked and all you could respond with was a slight ‘mhmm’.

‘I didn't even know that was a thing. Doesn't it... I don't know, taste strange?’ you asked as your mind began to function again.

‘Did you never get curious and tasted it yourself?’ Tommy chuckled.

‘No’ you said as your face went red. Tommy loosened his embrace and moved slightly back so he was looking at you.

‘Well, kiss me and find out’ Tommy chuckled.

He waited patiently for you to lean forward and kiss him. You did so uncertainly at first, your lips brushing against his as your own scent filled your senses. His lips were warm, still slick from their devotion to your pleasure. As you tasted yourself for the first time, you deepened the kiss, suddenly curious about the sweet, tarty flavour that lingered on him. It wasn't a bad taste at all, but more importantly, the memory of where that mouth of his had just been and where that taste came from excited you in a way you hadn't expected.

The kiss became about much more than finding out what you tasted like. Tommy’s arms tightened again, holding you close against his body. He still wore his undergarments, but you could feel the thick stiffness of his cock pressed against you, scorching hot even through the fabric.

He had distracted you with his mouth, but you wanted the rest of him. You slid a hand between your bodies, reaching for his stiff arousal. As your hand closed around him, he took a sharp breath, his hips moving forward to meet your hand.

‘I want to feel you inside of me Tommy’ you said just before Tommy leaned in and kissed you again.

‘Are you sure?’ Tommy asked once again as your lips parted.

‘Yes I am sure’ you said and, just like that, Tommy settled you on your back again, making sure you were comfortable before he slid to the other side of the bed and removed his undergarments. You watched, entranced, as he climbed on top of you and positioned himself in between your legs.

Your heart had to be loud enough that he could hear it. You felt almost cartoonish, as though it might jump from your skin and beat frantically outside your body.

‘If I hurt you, you tell me and I will stop, alright?’ Tommy asked as he moved himself forward, parting your legs further as he exposed your pussy, letting the backs of your thighs rest against the tops of his as he moved in closer to you.

‘Alright’ you said with a warm smile as you stared down between your bodies. You weren’t sure how exactly he would fit inside of you as you glimpsed at his size.

He took hold of his cock, nestling it against you. His tip slid against your slit for a moment, then was positioned at the entrance to your body. Once it was there, he propped himself up over you, one hand still wrapped around his cock and his face just inches from you.

His eyes didn't leave yours as he guided his cock forward. There was a moment of pressure, then a feeling of stretching as the thick head of his cock penetrated you.

You couldn't help it and tense up. The muscles of your canal tightened around his tip, gripping it, making the alien feel of having something inside it all the more pronounced. Your arms shook as your body stiffened, and Tommy stopped moving.

‘You need to relax Love’ Tommy said gently, causing you to nod.

The arm that was propping him up was near your shoulder and his hand found your hair, stroking it lightly.

‘I will be careful, I promise’ he said as you took a breath and closed your eyes.

A gentle brush of a kiss was pressed against your mouth as he comforted you.

Tommy moved his arm from between you, letting go of his cock as he pushed slightly more inside of you. You kept your eyes closed, focusing on the sensation, the way your pussy was stretching to accommodate him and the feeling of his cock against your slick walls. There was a sense of discomfort, pressure, unfamiliarity as he paused again.

You opened your eyes and looked down in between your bodies. Tommy’s cock was about halfway inside you, your entrance encircling him tightly. It felt strange, almost unreal, and the sight of it was one of the hottest things you had ever seen.

A small noise left your mouth as Tommy pushed forward even more. You watched more of his cock disappear within you, felt yourself filling up with his body. Soft pants left your lips as he sunk further and further inside you, until his skin was pressed against yours. He was all the way inside of you.

Tommy waited as your body adjusted to being impaled on his cock. It didn't hurt, that much was true. It was unfamiliar and strange, a fullness you could hardly have expected or explained, but it didn't hurt. You wouldn't have said it felt good, exactly, but it wasn't painful.

Yet another new sensation followed: a sudden loss of that fullness. As Tommy pulled his cock back out, your body relaxed even more, until just the tip of his cock was still nestled inside you.

I took a breath, as did he.

‘Are you alright?’ Tommy asked, causing you to nod.

That was all he needed to hear as he started pressing forward again. That time, it felt less strange. The fullness overtook you as he buried himself inside you again. Again, he paused once he was fully inside you, then pulled back out.

The discomfort disappeared on his third thrust. The pressure became pleasure on his fourth. The fifth time Tommy buried his cock inside you, you sighed, your head tilting back. He dipped his head forward and kissed you, his lips warm and comforting against you as he withdrew his cock again.

You felt his weight shift as he began a slow rhythm. His arms were by your shoulders, supporting most of his weight, but you still felt the pressure of his body resting heavily against yours. He no longer paused when he was fully inside you, but moved consistently, treating your body as delicately as he would a butterfly. He kissed you, murmured soft words to you, told you that you were beautiful, before he moved his head to the side and buried his face against your neck.

Growing more comfortable with the physical aspect of having him inside you, you spread your legs as wide as they could go before wrapping them around Tommy, while holding on to his shoulders tightly as he continued to thrust into you.

Tommy groaned when you did. The sensation between your legs changed, his cock seemingly deeper inside you than it was before. His rhythm staggered a bit, a few shallows thrusts off-beat, before he held still for a moment.

‘What's wrong?’ you asked as gasped.

‘Nothing, it’s just that you feel so good and it’s hard going slow when I want you so fucking much’ Tommy said.

‘Then go faster’ you said as you bit your lip. ‘

‘I don’t want to hurt you Y/N’ Tommy said.

‘I will tell you if it becomes too much’ you said and, just like that, a low growl left Tommy’s throat and his teeth grazed your neck as he started moving again.

Even at that, you didn't think he let loose the way he wanted to, but his movements became faster, harder. A wave of intensity you me as he did, making my skin prickle with delight.

That was the point where it went from feeling comfortable to feeling good.

Tommy’s breath was hot against you as he thrust harder inside you. Small noises were pushed from your throat, tiny yelps as he took the pleasure he needed from your body. His chest moved against yours, your breasts bouncing slightly against him each time he buried himself inside you.

His breathing was heavy, hot against your skin. He pressed a kiss against your neck quickly before sitting up, your arms falling back to your sides and your legs untangling from behind him with the fluidity of his movement. Our eyes didn't meet until he had hooked his arm under your knee, pushing your leg up higher than you could on your own.

You cried out, your head tilting back into the pillow as he penetrated you again, deeper than he ever had.

‘Fuck’ Tommy grunted as his movements became more intense, slightly faster, his body slapping against yours as he tunneled inside you.

‘Tommy, oh god, don’t stop’ you moaned as he moved in and out of you in a violent speed. The thrusts were deep enough that you felt like the air was being pushed out of your lungs.

It wasn’t long until Tommy could feel your walls tightening around him and your legs began to shake and, just like this, with several more deep thrusts, your orgasm washed over you and it was more intense than anything you had ever felt before.

Just after you came, Tommy cried out with each thrust until his body shuddered, his eyes squeezing shut and his face twisting in pleasure as he came inside of you, filling you with his warm cum.

As he finished, he released your leg, leaning forward again and burying his face against you neck. A muffled groan vibrated against you, sending a chill through your body that made you grin.

Slowly, he pulled out of you before lying next to you and pressing his lips onto yours.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked after your lips drifted apart.

‘Never been better’ you responded before kissing him again gently.

Just in that moment, you heard a loud knock on the door followed by another.

Tommy instantly shot up and reached for his pants and then the gun on the dresser in the bedroom.

He indicated to you to call out to see who it was but, just in this moment, two men broke in the door.

‘We are after Thomas Shelby’ one of the men said and Tommy put on his undershirt and walked downstairs, holding the gun in his hand.

‘Drop the gun’ one of the men said and Tommy could see at least four more men outside your house.

He complied and placed the gun onto the table in the hallway.

‘Thomas Shelby, you are under arrest for the attack on Rubrik & Sons Factory and the murder of Joseph Rubrik’ the man said.

‘Officer, there must be a mistake’ Tommy said.

‘Unfortunately, no sir. We have the arrest warrant right here’ the man said, reaching for Tommy’s wrist.

‘Can I at least get fucking dressed, eh?’ Tommy asked, causing the man to nod.

‘Tommy, where are they taking you?’ you asked in a haste, tears were running down your face.

‘London I would say. It will be fine Y/N, alright’ Tommy said caressing your face and kissing you before putting on his shoes and shirt.

‘This is wrong, he didn’t do this’ you said, trying to argue with the officers.

‘Mam, please let us do our job’ they said before Tommy told you to calm down.

He assured you that he would be fine and he will be back to see you.

He gave you a last kiss before the police officers pulled him away from you and you broke out in tears again.

There was nothing you could do and there was nothing he could do other than willingly surrender.

#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine

[azazelsconfessional]

((so i was gonna open up my askbox again but I got distracted doing this and watching streams i think idr what i did the past few hours, buuut there's something I need to cover first, especially since there are so many new people around! Hello! Especially since so many of you are playing OCs/MCs.

Don't worry, it's a tip to hopefully help you along! It may get a little long, especially as I try and provide examples. . .but hopefully it'll help.

I'm gonna talk a lot about OCs but this applies to canon characters too a bit. It certainly helps.

Tl;dr, you should have a character profile page.

(also remember that tumblr mobile doesn't really have direct access to Pages made with the Pages function on desktop, so you'll have to link them manually in your pinned or description or host them on another site(I used Google Docs in the apst) or in a regular post(this makes it very easy to lose as a forewarning) for maximum accessibility!)

(rules pages are also really really handy if you have alot of resteictions.)

So, in general, OCs have a bit of a lower reception rate in rp. Idk if that'll be the case here with MCs because they're, well, the main character. Housamo is also a series that lends itself well to OCs pretty well, especially non-human ones, but I figured I'd warn for that.

BUT. That doesn't mean you shouldn't play an OC! It just means there are things you need to keep in mind!

Think of all of the OCs you've seen--you all seem to be fun and wonderful people, and your characters are surely interesting. But. . .if you don't tell anybody about them, nobody will know what's going on or where to start, which makes asking questions a little hard, right? That's easier to work around with MC characters--we've played the game, we know the story, we know the characters, so we can figure out questions fairly easily based on that alone and go from there.

But with other OCs, especially those that don't represent charactera from mythology or fiction like many other characters in housamo do, there's like. Nowhere to start. We may see a face or some dialogue, but otherwise we don't have a frame of reference.

That's where a profile comes in!

Azazel-mun, I don't want to share all of the info about my character at once!

What if I don't know everything about my OC yet and want to figure it out along thw way?

The profile doesn't have to be super detailed! At most it shoule include things like the character's name and age and probably things like their location, profession, grade in school or place of work, etc., and anything you'd notice on the surface like their apperance. It's never a bad thing to include a description of their personality too, or a small section about their history/background. Little things that even you should probably know, too.

You can also section your profile off a bit into things like "surface info," "meta info," "things you could easily figure out about them," etc. That way, no one can spoil themself. Making lists like this can help you think these things through if you haven't already as well.

Let's use Azazel, a character that you probably know already, as an example here. I don't have a profile set

Name: Azazel

Species: Fallen Angel; Capra Therian - an anthropomorphic Goat (?)

Gender(pronouns): Male(he/him)

Age: difficult to calculate; several thousand years old?

Apperance age: hard to say, he's not human. Adult.

Origins: banished from his home world of Eden, has been in the human world for several thousand years

Profession: Priest of dubious denomination, most likely Catholic or Protestant; teacher at Daikanyama Academy; de facto head of the Missionaries Non-Profit charity Organization; supervisor of the Aoyama Missionaries

Role & Rule: Watcher; Revelation - allows him to see anything within the territory of the Aoyama Missionaries and anywhere the pages of his Artifact see

Apperance: Azazel is a 5'10"(180cm) tall, anthropomorphic goat of ambiguous breed, with fawn fur all over his body and lighter fur on his head and around his neck. He has brown, riged horns which curve out and back. Though his eyes are often closed, when opened they're red. He always carried around a leather bound bible with an eye on the cover, and is never seen without several chains on his person, although only the one(s) around his neck can be seen unless he's undressed.

He wears a black priest's cassock with a maroon sash and a capelet of the same color, with the same eye as on his bible on the shoulders of the cape, and brown dress shoes. The front of the robe is always open to expose his bare chest and the chains beneath.

Personality: Azazel is kind and doting, very fitting of both a teacher and priest, although his openly flirtatious, lustful, and secretive nature causes others to distrust him. He doesn't mind this at all. He has a strong adoration for humans, and values love in all of its forms more than anything. He's a bit of a passive person, often being unmotivated but working hard regardless, and seems to prefer to watch others and the world go by, although he won't decline most invitations to take part in it. He is always aware of anything that happens within the extensive territory of the Missionaries, and seems to know and see just about everything about anyone he meets, from their surface to their soul. . . .

If you know Azazel, or take note of some of the wording or question marks, you'll note I didn't explain everything(although I may have shared more than you want to.) This is just a bare bones exampe of how I do my profiles--but it can get even more bare!

I'll do two this time, a more vague version of Azazel's, and another that obscures information all together, using the same or a similar format to the above.

Name: Azazel

Species: anthropomorphic goat

Gender(pronouns): male (he/him)

Age: unquestionably an adult

Origins: Eden

Profession: Priest; teacher; head of a charity NPO; member of the Missionaries

Apperance: Horned goatman of slightly above average human height. Light brown fur, blond fur-hair, red eyes. Wears priest robes and a gold chain around his neck and chest. Carries around a bible with an eye on it?

Personality: Kind of eerie, but friendly and affectionate. A little flirtatious, especially towards humans. Seems to know everything about people for some reason?

Compare it to the one before--see how I've left even more things off or left things ambiguous while still sharing what's necessary or surface level? However, it's also not as engaging or as informative as the other one where I gave more information.

As someone who plays him, profiles like this aren't as helpful for me lol since he knows so much about everyone and everything, having a lot of details helps me play my character!

Now, as helpful as this is, this is also a character you probably know. So how about I do this with an OC? Normally I'm extremely detailed in my profiles and such, especially for OCs, sharing headcanons and ideas for relationships between characters. But, again, I'll try and show how you can show some info while leaving some up to people to ask about to later be filled in.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [this is where you would put where you get the art for any icons you use--if you draw it yourself, say so; if you use official art from a series, credit the name of the character and the series; if you use picrews, link the specific picrews. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN PERMITTED TO USE. DO NOT STEAL ART. IF YOU CAN'T FIND THE CREDIT, ASK SOMEONE TO HELP YOU, DO NOT JUST SAY THAT IT ISN'T YOURS. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO USE OR THAT ISN'T FROM A SERIES OF SOME SORT.]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: older than she looks?

Origins: Tokyo?

Profession: Professor; Witch

Apperance: A fidgety woman who looks older than she is. She looks anxious and confused as often as she looks curious and confident. Wavy light brown hair. Often carries around schoolbooks and is never alone, always with a Rattus Therian and often with a Nyarlathotep.

Personality: seemingly anxious, but curious and exploratative nonetheless. On the awkward side, but can still keep up with the Nyarls that accompany her. Gets into trouble when she gets ahead of herself in exploring and learning about the arcane, but her Rule allows her to disappear easily.

History: Has always been curious about magic and attempted to run through a Gate when they began to open up. Performed a summon and brought a certain transients to Tokyo and recieved her familiar and the magic to use her Rule as a result. Currently teaches at a college. She stumbled into a certain someone while attempting to explore time, and became a fan ever since.

That tells you a fair amount, doesn't it? Even for someone you don't know? It may even raise some questions that you could ask. At the same time, it doesn't tell you that much, and that can be as much of a hindrance for coming up with questions as saying too much can. It's really up to you what's too much and too little. Here's a more detailed version! Some things have been left vague or confusing in such a way that they could be filled in after being revealed through asks and play. That way, people are encouraged to/given ideas of what to ask--and you can still share things in the long run.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [N/A]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: somewhere in her 30's, maybe even a little older

Origins: Tokyo, with some sort of connection to at least one other world

Profession: Professor of [?] at [?] Academy; Witch

Role & Rule: [?] & [?]

Artifact, Summon, Familiar?: Always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and some sort of man-rat? She also carries around a book that's labeled as a Grimoire, but it's rare for someone to be both a summon-user and an Artifact-user. . . .

Apperance: A fidgety older woman wearing a labcoat and a witch's hat. She looks quite stressed and has trouble sitting still. Her ashy brown hair is thin and a little wavy, with some strands of gray. Although she often squints, she doesn't wear glasses. She carries around a lot of books relating to maths and sciences and one labeled 'Grimoire' decorated with arcane symbols from Gehenna and Old Ones. She's always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and a very short, bearded man who can best be described as a brown rat therian with a human-like face. Sometimes there's a normal rat on her person or in her pockets.

Personality: Kezia is a fidgety and anxious magic practitioner. She's very curious about other worlds and has been since the Gates appeared in this Tokyo since she was a child, however she has been pursuing magic before then. She often appears somewhat confused about or fascenated by even her usual surroundings, but, at other times moves through the world with confidence even in unfamiliar territory. She also likes rats and other rodents, and as such will often avoid felines and birds of prey. She has a tendency to disappear, seeming to walk through walls despite assuredly being alive.

She's a little bit awkward with people, but somehow keeps up with Nyarlathoteps nonetheless. She's a good teacher, once she figures out how to explain things in ways others can understand easily, but can be a bit difficult to follow and flighty up until then. Aware of this, she's rather patient, if a little down on herself at times. However, she most often simply has her mind elsewhere. Despite this and the company she keeps, she's relatively sane. . .most of the time.

She shares a name with a witch from the world of Old Ones who made a pact with Nyarlathotep, believing him to be the Devil. . .and the ratman always at her side uses the same name as that witch's familiar as well. It's. . .probably just a coincidence. . .who would rightfully make a pact with Nyarlathotep?

History: Kezia is an adult human from this Tokyo before the apperance of the Gates and construction of the Walls. She's explored various witchcraft pursuits since she was a child, with what was originally a mere imaginative curiosity and fascination. After the arrival of the Gates when she was still young, she snuck over the fences built around one and attempted to go inside the massive pillar of light, which she attributes to the reason she often seems to struggle with her vision. Several years later, she performed a successful summon and she recieved her familiar, Brown Jenkin, transformed into a somewhat therian form from one of her pet rats, and was given some powers from Nyarlathotep. She has no discernable control over any of the chaotic creatures, however they seem to spend time around her regardless.

At present she's a professor of a subject that interests her at a certain college. She's had other dangerous run-ins due to her excitement over the arcane and "darker" arts, but doesn't seem to show any signs of stopping. However, after an incident in an attempt to explore time itself, she encountered a certain guardian of time and feels reluctant for once to explore it further. . .although she's become quite a big fan of his.

. . .i ran out of steam amd kinda lost track of where i was going. idk if that helped at all really. But maybe it did! I hope it did. You don't need to use any of those things exactly by any means, but that's the kind of thing you usually see in profile pages. Basics like someone's name and birthday and age and apperance and a little about their personality, maybe some history. Oftentimes things like powers and weapons and the like. Interests, hobbies, ways they could be intereacted with, etc. Just stuff that'd help you know the character.

I write everything in paragraph form, but everyone is more than welcome to use a more script format. I love making profiles, myself--it really helps to think about the character and details about them. Normally I make really, really detailed profiles, but maybe I'll try and be more simple about it this time around. depends on how i'm feeling.

I know this seems weirdly hypocritical given I don't have one but when I first made this blog there were like four of us including myself. I didn't see the need for a rules or profile page because I didn't anticipate that there'd be so many of us or, like, people from other fandoms or who aren't familiar with certain characters. I'll rectify that soon hopefully. But I figured I'd pass along this idea/knowledge to others.

. . .I'm gonna go reopen my askbox now. Feel free to send asks again, ask about this, etc! You can send me an IM too if you want. I'll properly close up the guest event tomorrow. I'm real tired rn lol so idk how much i'll get done, but i usually do things super late at night my time, so i have some time to pull my shit together haha))

#ooc #((anyway i'm gonna open the askbox and crawl into a hole)) #((i got nothing done lol i was so engaged with something else all week))

[rotten-games]

City of Immortals RO List

Okay so here it is, the list of ROs like I promised. Both mc's have their own pool of love interests to choose from with little overlap.

Here you’ll get a description of the ROs and some information on how the mc or others might view them. Also some info on the mc’s.

Mc1

Born to be a soldier by design, they were afflicted with immortality and stopped aging entirely once they hit thirty. A side effect—or perhaps a feature—is the beast that all but lives inside them, taking control when they feel incredibly strong emotions, though most often when anger is present. Where once they held full control of it, of the transformation they go through, now they must wrestle with its control with each passing day.

You are what’s called a Hunter. Every settlement has them, but Eden has the most. Caroline controls all her hunters from Eden, though ‘Hunter’ may be a bit of an oversimplification of the job description. Yes, one of their main jobs is providing food and other resources for the settlement, but they’re also bounty hunters, keepers of the peace, and are also often recruited for odd jobs when they have no contracts to fill. Perhaps the most important rule in Hunting, is that you always work in pairs.

Caroline: She/her

The best way to describe Carol is ‘short’, with a pair of unblinking amber eyes and a wind-buffeted, naturally tanned complexion. Her russet curls, while  usually out of her face, never seem to stay tied back for long, a seemingly constant slew of curls sticking to her forehead. A jagged scar cuts across the knuckles on her right hand.

Caroline is unrelenting. She knows what her settlement needs and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get it—to save the lives of those she must oversee she is willing to do anything. Within reason. Truthfully, Caroline never asked to be made the leader of Eden, the job just sort of fell into her lap one day and no one bothered to take it from her. You’ve worked for her for years by the start of chapter one, and if you’ve learned anything about her it’s that she doesn’t do smalltalk. She’s been in a relationship with Lowrie for years now, and as far as you can tell, they’re very happy with one another.

Lowrie: non-binary, they/them pronouns

Impossibly tall and scrawny, Lowrie’s skin is constantly burned red by the sun, seemingly unable to tan no matter what they do. Their face is long, with ash-coloured, shoulder-length hair that would usually hide their grey eyes but is otherwise kept out of their face with a blue-patterned scarf.

Some have called Lowrie stuck up in the past for their less than talkative nature but that would be an oversimplification. In truth, they just aren’t fond of talking—which is probably why they get on with Harley so well—and more shy than anything else. One of Eden’s finest Hunters, they spend most of their time in the sweltering heat of Wasteland bringing bandits in and shooting any of the mangy beasts that stray too close to Eden. The rest of their time is spent managing the bar with Caroline and Harley, tending to keep to themself. You’ve worked with Lowrie in the past, and as far as you can tell there’s little love lost between the two of you. 

Carol + Lowrie poly:

Caroline and Lowrie are poly and in a committed relationship with one another. They will not leave one another for monogamy with mc, however, you don’t have to be in a throuple with them—though that’s definitely on the table—you can simply be with one, who is with both you and the other. Lowrie is also currently casually seeing Harley. Carol is not seeing anyone else.

Mordred: he/him.

With a seemingly constant fuzz along his jaw, and a never-ending supply of little scars littering his warm olive skin, his hair tends to cover everything but his yellow eyes and the deep bags underneath. His hair is typically tied into a loose bun at the back of his head, mostly obscuring his pierced, slightly pointed ears.

Mordred is a hot-headed, easily irritated young man who’s been by your side since day one. You dragged yourselves out of the crumbling ruins of Ledala together, you fought together, and now you work together as Hunters. Partner’s in crime doesn’t quite cover your relationship but it’s certainly close. In recent years, however, your relationship has strained—perhaps it’s due to past mistakes getting in the way, or past feelings, but either way at the start of the book he’s nowhere to be found.

At the start of the game you can determine just what your relationship is with him—it’s strained at this point but the reasons why are totally up to you. He can also potentially have been an old flame of MC2.

Ridley: Gender variable

Ridley is an energetic person with a pair of bright green eyes constantly sparkling with a glint of adventure. Despite their heavily-muscled frame, they seem to constantly be hiding behind their oversized glasses, a veil of their shaggy red hair, and a slouch that makes them out to be much smaller than they are.

Ridley is… an enigma. While technically a Hunter, they seem much more interested in the pursuits of science and research than holding off rabid beasts with nothing but a gun that’s falling apart and a rusty sword. Of course, they can hold their own well enough, but when they’re meant to be spending their time training or helping out—and indeed, even on their time off—they’re usually found traipsing around in the desert looking for… who knows what.

Doc: She/her

Doc is stocky and sharp-jawed, dark brown, almost black eyes always watching. Her dense curls are shoulder-length and appear twisted together and held back behind her head. The tip of her left ear appears to have been torn off somehow.

Not known for her bedside manner, Doc travels between settlements to tend to the sick, injured, and broken, and though none can particularly vouch for her interpersonal skills (though who can say anyone has particularly good ones, these days?), they can certainly do so for her medicinal accomplishments. Some think her a wandering ghost, aiding those who need help to make up for the sins of her past, others simply see her as a woman seeking to do her part for the good of Wasteland, regardless, if you get on her bad side she’s been known to be liberal with her gun. Or so the rumors say.

J. Allard: Gender variable

Allard is a nervous-looking, shifty individual with short but messy brown hair flecked with grey. Constantly fidgeting with the ring on their thumb, their stutter becomes more obvious the more nervous they are. Though their eyes hide behind a pair of darkened glasses, a pallid face a week out from its last wash they are, completely, honest. Trust me.

J. Allard is a totally normal priest. There is nothing strange about them, they simply want what is best for you and your companions.

Mc2

Dragged down into the depths of the earth on the day Ledala fell, you never knew of the city beneath the surface. Your sibling died that day, you’re sure of it, and a part of you died with them—the beast no longer responds to your call and you’re still left injured from whatever afflicted you and your comrades that day. The man who saved you set you to work for him—sorry, with him—and now you walk perpetually in the darkness of a city long since forgotten by the sun, with people named after the remnants of an old world you never knew existed. You were never meant to survive that night, and every day the world around you reminds you of that.

Arthur: he/him

Arthur doesn’t look quite there half the time. His skin is translucent, his pale blue eyes impossibly far away, platinum blond hair little more than wispy strands atop his head. Most of his body is otherwise covered completely by that old, brown coat of his. There’s light freckling across his nose.

Arthur saved you that night. A Private Investigator by trade, he brought you on to work together because you had no where else to go. Maybe because of it you should be closer than you are but there’s always been a distance between you he’s been unwilling to cross. Either way, despite working together—living together—he keeps to himself and you try to keep to yourself in turn. Still, you can’t help but notice the disdain he has for the City Council and their lackeys.

Perci: she/her

Perci is constantly smiling. Relaxed of posture, her straight hair once ashy brown is now dyed silver. It’s cut short at the sides and back, creating an undercut, most of her fringe tucked behind her ears to reveal a pair of dark brown, monolid eyes. She seems allergic to sleeves, taking whatever chance she gets to show off her cybernetic arm and the colourful tattoos that adorn her flesh arm.

A friend of Arthur who sometimes helps with investigations. She’s friendlier than he is with you, even inviting you out on occasion, but rebellion is on her lips more and more nowadays, and she isn’t subtle about it. You haven’t seen her in quite a while—as far as you can tell she and Arthur aren’t on speaking terms anymore after that big fight they had a few months back. As far as you can tell, she’s moved on and you certainly wouldn’t blame her if she has Council dogs on her heels.

Saga: Saga is always the same gender as your mc is.

Saga’s hair is a deep blue in colour, their black roots just barely growing through. Half of their head is shaved, the other half left chest-length and braided over their shoulder. Though their entire body seems to interwoven with tech, what is perhaps most interesting about them is the angular tattoo that crawls down the right side of their face. This is probably why they come to you completely covered in muck and baggy clothing.

Saga shows up at your door with a different name and a job. You aren’t given why, only the how, only the what. They’re stubborn and flighty in equal measure, suspicious of everyone around them including yourself. Oh, they dress the part of a street rat well, but the cash they have just on hand is nothing to blink at and, underneath all that grime, their skin is perfectly unmarred by the ravages of time.

Deimos: he/him, gay

Whether or not Deimos’ strength is his own or from borrowed, military-grade tech is anyone’s guess, but no one’s ever bothered to ask. Though he’s tall, he isn’t necessarily as muscular as the fear he commands would suggest. His eyes glow orange, black hair trimmed but not maintained, and his grin is enough to stop anyone in their tracks. For whatever reason, he always wears warm clothes.

Deimos is a Council dog who’s been hounding Arthur for a few years now. You’ve never officially met him; somehow whenever he drops into the office you always manage to be out. Whether that’s coincidence or because Arthur sends you out on errands very conveniently at those times it’s not for you to say. Somehow, he never seems to do too much damage to your colleague.

Adrastea: Non-binary, they/them or she/her pronouns, only attracted to nb or female mc’s

Adrastea has been voted the city’s most attractive person many years in a row now. Everything about them is perfect; perfect smile, perfect blue eyes, perfect cascading coils of iridescent hair, yet somehow despite their well-calculated appearance it’s like there’s a tiger waiting to pounce on any wary admirer who comes too close.

While not a member of the council they hold great sway simply by virtue of their age and the fact they’re so beloved by the populace. You’ve seen them on the holos, how they’re oh, so giving to the needy and even invite the commonfolk to their lavish parties all the important council members attend. It’s an act, it has to be; through their gorgeous smile and all those sheer dresses they seek nothing if not attention. A lot of their history is shrouded and deleted from public record, but you do know that they were once a head scientist that took part in the very same project that supposedly made you what you are today.

Dagda: gender variable

Dagda is the perfectly attractive face everyone sees on their screens every night. In a world of cybernetic bodies and unnaturally bright lights, they are the one person who almost looks... natural. With a perfectly cultivated appearance of salt and pepper hair, soulful brown eyes, and that winning smile, nothing about them is their own; everything they do exactly what everyone else tells them to do.

The mouthpiece of the Council, Dagda is seen to be charming and down to earth in the vids. They say Ledala is prospering more than it has in decades, that the crime rates are lowering thanks to the wonderful work they and their colleagues on the Council are doing. Of course, there always has been a certain emptiness behind their eyes. When the camera isn’t rolling, you wonder what they really think.

#lore #coi game

[necros-writing-stuff]

oooooooooohh nooo thats so cute :(((( what u said abt young eden is so true omgg. they r also def the type of kid that brings stray cats n dogs 2 their home. so evrytime the orphanage carataker hears a meowing or barking inside they r like "gdi eden not AGAIN!!" but it wouldnt stop them lol. they r the type that r immune to scolding. after finishing wth being scolded theyll go back 2 do exactly what they r told not 2 do. oh n also they enjoy rough playing. so on top of being covered in dirt or mud, theyll always have bruises n scratches from getting into fights or just from falling or running around. also they have a habit of like, suddenly disappearing (maybe 2 the forest which makes them hard 2 track).

and lol ye i saw it, it made me go hmmm, a true missed opportunity. eden wouldnt let the chance pass. im manifesting a future update where we could give them oral spiderman style 🙏

a bit off topic but i was wondering if u have any ideas or hcs about eden n baileys relationship/friendship?? idk. eden being slightly aggressive n mad at u after they rescue(???) u from bailey when u miss ur payment kinda throw me off ngl. bc they dont act that way when they rescue you from remys farm or the asylum. like, wtf is going on??? idk. its a bit of head scratcher for me.

Ooooo boy Eden and Bailey's past is something I often think about.

Under a cut for sheer length

Okay so I think they are about the same age (late 20s to early 40s) and that they grew up in the orphanage together.

I think Eden was there since very young/birth, but Bailey came later.

Eden not having sole primary care takers fucked up their socialising skills and they felt more comfortable on their own (read:fear of abandonment).

Bailey I think came from a really abusive impoverished home, and thats what made them obsessed with money. They have a weird vendetta against their birth parents to be 'better' than them.

Eden had a stray dog they cared for, but one day when they were running through the forest, a wolf got at it. Hence their 'non of these would survive in the wild' line at the pet store, and their obvious interest in puppy play.

After that, Eden started to shut off even more, being aggressive with the other kids, until Bailey started hanging out with them.

Bailey was angry to be in an orphanage and could see that Eden obviously wasn't happy, so they sort of gravitated towards each other.

Bailey was also the only other kid that didn't cry when Eden hit them.

They're the only two people that know each other's birthdays, besides anyone who looks at their very real legal documents.

As they hit puberty and start growing, they get competitive. Both are rather controlling, so they make a ton of bets against each other. One of them being who can lose their virginity the fastest.

Eden is rather blunt at asking, scaring a lot of the potential partners off, while Bailey is smoother about it and of course wins the bet.

Some fellow orphans start going missing, making everyone uneasy.

This is also when they start noticing the rampant sexual assualt in town, travelling as two most of the time so they can fight people off easier, if needs be.

Terrible at school. Eden was great at English, decent at history, but good luck making them show up half of the time. Eden had a talent for art, however, particularly carvings.

Bailey was there to socialise and steal lunch money, but they had okay grades.

If this is set in England, they would have gone to a secondary school with a sixth form. This means ages 11-18 as students, and I hc that when they were in year 7 (1st year of secondary) Leighton was in sixth form (years 12 and 13). They did not get along for the brief time they would meet in the halls.

I also think Eden would have dropped out in year 11, at age 16, and probably had an apprenticeship with a woodworking company (explains making the coat rack and love seat).

Bailey starts getting into more and more criminal activities, dragging Eden into them too, until a local crime boss notices them. The boss takes Bailey under their wing, thinking Eden won't be right for the job.

Instead they ask Eden to get a job at the police station and help them get further footholds there, that's how Eden has all of those collars (inspired by that one anon), and possibly their rifle. Alternatively, Eden leaves for the military and comes back later.

It works, and they end up covering a lot of their tracks. It's probably around this point that Landry does a few smaller jobs around the place and starts hearing about the Boss' new protégé.

They both have money now, for the first time in there lives, and this is when their differences start to show.

Bailey wants more and more, where as Eden wants to be comfortable.

Bailey fits into the mobster life fairly easily, but instead of the drugs that a lot of the others peddle, Bailey specialises in extortion and blackmail.

They slowly end up getting quite a few powerful figures under their control, and when the boss dies and Bailey ends up in charge of the money? They buy the orphanage.

I think Bailey might have cared for the orphans at one point, in their own ways, but their greed got the better of them.

Working under the mob and the corrupt police has Eden start to hate and fear the town. The only place they felt safer was the forest - which was full of deadly animals. But Eden could protect themselves now.

Being tall and muscular means that Eden is often sent to intimidate or even physically hurt people, often times getting hurt as well. Not to mention when arresting people, some are rather adverse to going to jail and take stabs at them.

If I go with Eden joining the military, they come home hoping to have a familiar setting calm their nerves, but it doesn't. Working for Bailey to earn money also doesn't help, one job having them break into the police station and setting fire to their files (that's another way Eden could find the collars, think of their old dog, and take them in nostalgia).

Eden cracks when they're asked to kill someone off, only to realise its a kid. That's too far.

They go to Bailey and tell them they're done. They need an out, they're fucking miserable, barely sleeping, constantly anxious, and Bailey tries to convince them to stay at first, before realising that they could lose their best friend once and for all if they force them to stay.

So they start planning together what Eden should do, and eventually come up with the cabin. Bailey has Quinn/their predecessor in their pocket by this point, so some cash and threats have some builders help make it, including running water.

When in town, Eden supplies Bailey with animal furs for custom coats. Bailey gets Eden new books, cans of food, more bullets. And if you miss your payment, Bailey eventually gifts Eden with a spouse.

Eden gets angry if they 'rescue' you from Bailey cause its a reminder of the past they try to avoid, and they take it out on you. Of the fear they had as a young orphan of disappearing, something Bailey is now enforcing on more orphans. They take it out on you because violence has always been a way they've coped.

Occasionally, maybe on one of those birthdays, they sit at the lake and drink some whiskey together. They don't talk about their feelings, they're both too stunted for that. But it's comforting knowing each other is still alive and well.

#degrees of lewdity eden #degrees of lewdity bailey #degrees of lewdity #spill your guts #anonymous

[quentinbecks]

stillness in woe

Summary: Charlie left Hope County years ago hoping never to come back. But when she learns of her parents involvement with the local doomsday cult, she finds herself heading back to a life she thought she left behind. (Begins two years before the reaping/events of the game)

Pairing: Eventual John Seed x Non Dep OFC

Word Count: 1.9 k

Warnings: mentions of death and vomiting

A/N: I was a little nervous that introducing Charlie’s descent into the cult in the second chapter would be too soon, so I made a little filler chapter. Not the best, but the real meat of the story begins in the next chapter.

Chapter 2: Family Reunion

She hears footsteps coming up behind her. She pauses, thinking it’s only a figment of her overtired imagination. The noises don’t stop. Instead, they only increase in proximity. She’s barely turned around when she notices the red and white camo that signals Jacob’s hunters. The sight alone sends her into a panicked frenzy. Both the hunter and its prey raise their weapons at the same time. Luckily for Charlie she shoots first. Stomping over to the body she rips the red ski mask of their face. This time it’s not the usual boyish face that greets her; it’s her own.

“Charlie!”

The young woman awakens with a start. For a second she’s confused about her whereabouts, not used to sunlight first thing in the morning. After realizing that she’s in Mary May’s apartment she quickly relaxes, but that doesn’t last very long. Her nightmare combined with her current hangover causes bile to rise up in her throat. Charlie bolts upright and runs towards the bathroom, Mary May following right behind her.

She can only make it as far as the sink before her body retches into it. She feels Mary May rubbing circles on her back as she trembles, clutching the porcelain.

“You okay?”

“No” Charlie sniffs, wiping away the tears pooling down her face.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Charlie shakes her head no. She doesn’t need her friend knowing about what she was doing up in the Whitetails. She knows Mary May said things were bad in the valley, but she doubts John Seed is as much of a monster as his brother is. At least not yet. Instead of worrying her, Charlie chooses to tell a white lie.

“It’s nothing. I’m just worried about going to Joseph’s service. Can’t shake the feeling I’ll be held hostage at his compound.” It’s not completely untrue. Charlie is worried about losing herself to the Seeds. She’s heard and seen too much to not have that weigh heavy on her mind.

“Hey” Mary May says, forcing her friend to look at her. “I’m not gonna let him take you. Not when we just got you back.”

Good luck with that she thinks to herself

“My hero” Charlie says with a smile, choosing to forgo voicing her doubts. “I should shower and at least make an attempt to look decent. I wouldn’t want to show up to a Sunday service looking like a sewer rat.”

“Clearly you haven’t seen many peggies.”

In the shower she tries to wash away all of her fears, but the image of Mary May’s scar keeps flashing through her mind. How many other people in the county have been scarred by the youngest Seed? His handiwork looks painful and she doubts anyone would choose to have it done willingly. She wonders what sin will be chosen for her when the time comes. With her luck her whole body would adorned with all seven.

Charlie leaves the apartment to find Mary May helping Casey Fixman open up the bar. She gives a twirl as she hits the ground floor. “You think daddy Seed will like me in this dress?”

Mary May crinkles her nose in slight disgust. She had been gracious in Miami her friend a dress her, recently deceased, brother Drew had bought her for her graduation. On Charlie’s newly slimmed down body the white dress hangs a bit loose, the straps barely clinging to her shoulders.

“I’m sure Joseph will like a lot of things about you if you call him daddy.”

The blonde studies her friend’s appearance closely. The two of them know the importance of appearance to the cult. Due to the release of the documentary ousting the behavior of Eden’s Gate, the group has become more serious in trying to root out those that come with ill intent. And given by the knife holster strapped to Charlie’s thigh, the woman isn’t going in with good will.

“Come here” Mary May pulls on her pony tail once she’s close enough, letting her waves cascade over her shoulders. “There, see, now you look docile and sweet. Just the way the cult likes.”

Charlie wants to remind her friend no one has called her docile or sweet, not even when she was a child, but she can see something is bothering the younger woman. “You do know Nolan will there, right?” Mary May inquires before she can even ask what was wrong.

“No. No I didn’t fucking know that. I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s involved with something illegal, but I am.”

“Your ex husband is basically a glorified drug dealer. He’s helping turn the people in the Henbane into angels” Casey calls out from the kitchen.

“Angels? You know? No. I don’t want to know what that means.”

“Hey” Mary May calls out, bringing her hands to rest on Charlie’s shoulders. “Don’t think about him. Focus on what really matters. Like getting your family out of a cult.”

Charlie nods. She knows Mary May is right, but she can’t help how she feels. It’s been five years since they divorced and she left Hope County, but the wound still feels so fresh.

After promising to check in after the service, she decides to head out to the church. The warm, late summer sun and some classic rock helps Charlie relax on the ride over. Makes her realize there are bigger problems in the world than cheating exes.

The woman is shocked to see the throngs of cultists loitering around and inside the compound, making it almost impossible to find a spot to park her car.

After ditching her car at the end of the drive and doing a few sets of breathing exercises, Charlie makes her way inside. Before she can make her way past the gate she’s stopped by burly, bearded middle aged man.

“Sorry, ma’am I’m afraid I can’t let you past without searching you for any weapons.”

Choices quickly flood Charlie’s mind. She can run past this guard, try to hide amongst the crowd; the crowd wearing mostly uniformed clothing. Or, she can try her hand at improvisation; pretend she really is innocent and sweet. She chooses the latter option.

“I’m sorry” she says, lifting her dress a little to show the knife strapped to her thigh. “You can never be too safe as a woman.”

Charlie pulls the weapon out of its scabbard, holding it out to the man. “If you do me a small favor you can keep this.”

The cultist eyes her warily; unsure of whether she’s worthy of his trust or not. But, to her surprise, her charms worked on him. “What do you want?”

“Well,” Charlie bites her lip before getting as close as she can “I was just wondering if you could introduce me to John Seed. My mom works for him and I just wanted to meet the man she speaks so highly of.”

“I don’t know…” he trails off, looking back at the Seeds and the flock congregating around them.

“Please?” Charlie looks up at the man through her lashes. The man has a rancid odor to him and she wishes she had chosen to duck and run into the compound instead of flirting. “You don’t know how much it would mean to me.”

“Fine. But don’t try anything once you’re inside.”

Pathetic

Charlie flashes him a smile. “Thank you so much.”

The man leads her up the gravel path and through the crowds up to the front of the church. There stood three men and one young woman that everyone seems to gravitate towards.

The Seeds

Charlie’s blood runs cold at the realization that she’s finally in their presence. It dawns on her too late that they may know she was the one responsible for the death of the young chosen. Fortunately she doesn’t have time to dwell too long on that thought as the man pulls her gently towards John Seed.

“Brother John?”

The young man looks up and she’s struck by the fact that he’s actually handsome. He’s well dressed and equally well groomed with a lordly posture. She recognizes immediately that she can’t manipulate him with her feminine wiles, he’s clearly too worldly for that. The older man pushes past two young women who were waiting in line to speak to the herald.

“This lost soul has been looking for you.” Charlie tries not to roll her eyes at the descriptor, but she knows she can act the part if it brings her closer to her parents.

“Is that so?”

“Yes” Charlie answers for the cultist, a sudden surge of bravery overtaking her as she steps around him. “I haven’t heard from my family in years. I heard they were here and I wanted to see if they were okay. A wellness check, if you will.”

“That’s not what you…” John cuts the man off before he can continue on.

“Did you not recognize her?” he asks as his eyes light up with recognition. Charlie freezes.

How? He can’t possibly know.

“She’s clearly our accountant’s daughter” he says lightly spinning her around.

The other man studies her face for a moment. “Huh. You really do look exactly like Christine.”

“You know, there’s really nothing to worry about. Your family is doing well here, but, if you want to do your little ‘wellness check’, you best follow me, sweetheart” John suggests over her shoulder.

Charlie fights the urge to make a snarky retort, choosing to cast a smile over her shoulder instead. “Of course. After you.”

They head inside and Charlie is flanked on all sides by peggies. Two to her side, one behind her, and John in front of her. If she’s being honest she doesn’t understand why they need to guard a tiny, unarmed woman. Besides, who goes to reunite with their family just to attack them?

All of that goes out the window when she sees her mother. She barely registers John calling out to her mother before she’s shoving past him.

“Mama?”

Christine steps forward, her hands cupping her daughter’s cheeks. “Charlene? Baby, what are you doing here?”

Charlie blinks back the tears she can feel tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “You haven’t returned any of my calls in almost three years. I was scared” she whispers, hoping none of the cultists can hear.

Unfortunately for her the youngest Seed does hear. “I told you there was nothing to worry about” he says, clasping both Berger women’s shoulders. “Your family is doing well here, even better, they’re thriving.”

Her mother nods and smiles at John. Charlie can tell her happiness is real and it pains her to see it. If it weren’t for the armed militia around the compound she would punch the smug look off of his face.

“Sweetheart, now that you’re back in Hope County; now that you’re home, why don’t you move back in with your dad and I?”

It sounds like a terrible idea. The last thing she wants is to be stuck in a house with two people who only want to talk about Eden’s Gate. She goes to protest when she realizes she hasn’t even seen her father yet.

“Oh, no I really couldn’t... Wait, where is daddy?”

Before her mother can explain a deep voice from behind her interrupts, stopping everyone in their tracks “Who’s this?”

Charlie turns around to see who intruded on their conversation. She recognizes Joseph almost immediately, his man bun and glasses giving him

Shit

#if anyone wants to be my beta/sounding board for the rest of this fic pls hit me up #i would love you forever #far cry 5 fic #far cry 5 oc #john seed x oc #oc: charlie berger #fic: stillness in woe

[avengerscompound]

It’s You and Me - Chapter 8

It’s You and Me: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x  F!Reader

Word Count:  1724

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Mentions of past abuse

Synopsis: You and Clint Barton go way back.  Since you joined the circus as a child, he took it upon himself to keep you away from the people who really wanted to hurt you.  For years the two of you danced a line between dark and light.

When he chooses light the two of you go your separate ways.

Fifteen years later he tracks you down.  Those feelings the two of you shared never went away, but now he is not only an Avengers but a single father.  Can the two of you make it work after all this time when your lives have gone in such different directions?

A series told in flashbacks and current day.

Chapter 9: Then

“Welcome to the ring, the man who can’t miss - Hawkeye!”

The crowd cheered and Clint cantered his horse out into the ring, he climbed up, so he was standing and waved to the crowd as he did a lap.

“And the girl he can’t seem to hit, Sugar Snap!”

You rode out, first flipping off the front of your horse and then back on again, before bringing your horse up beside his, so the two of you were riding, standing up, side-by-side.  “Ready?”  Clint said.

“Always,” you replied.

You sat back down and spurred the horse on.  As you took the lead on Clint, you collected your bow and an arrow from one of the clowns standing at the side of the ring.  Clint did the same as he passed them and watched as you got into the handstand position on your moving horse.  The crowd went deadly silent as you knocked your arrow with your feet, Clint got into the same position.  You loosed the arrow as you passed the target, hitting it dead center.  The crowd erupted in applause but before it even reached its peak, Clint loosed his arrow with his feet and it hit yours, splitting the shaft right down the middle.

The crowd went berserk.  You and Clint, both vaulted off your horses and landed side by side in the middle of the ring, your arms raised.  You bowed together, first to one side of the crowd and then the other, soaking in the applause.

You were 18 now, and the act was flawless.  The ringmaster always had you opening these days, and it had been a long time since anyone had approached either of you about doing any of their criminal dealings.  There had been an incident a year back where Clint had discovered Jacques with a load of stolen money and when he’d gone to turn the swordsman in, Jacques attempted to kill him.  Clint had ended up with two broken legs, and his brother Barney had left the circus to go to college to get away from everything the circus was not long after that.  He had asked Clint to go with him, but Clint had been so high on this rush of what he could only call fame, that there was no way he could let it go now.

Besides, he had Eden and he knew that if he left the circus it would mean leaving her too and he was not willing to do that.

Some of the clowns brought the rest of the equipment in and Clint put his quiver on his back and grabbed his bow.  The next part of the act was about precision archery, acrobatics, perfect timing, and making sure he selected the correct arrow for each shot.

He turned and aimed an arrow so it looked as if it was aiming at you, but was in fact aiming at a small target stuck to one of the tent poles just next to the audience.  Close enough that they could all see how he hit the target and that it would feel like they were at risk, but not so close that there was in any risk at all.

You ran backward and did a backflip, just as you launched yourself up off the ground, Clint loosed the arrow and it sailed under you, hitting the center of the target with a thud as you landed back on your feet.  You began to run around the outside of the arena, and he loosed arrow after arrow in front of you, and you flipped over each one again and again, to the ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ of the crowd while each arrow hit the target perfectly.

When you reached the target board, Clint changed the arrows.  He began to loose them so each hit about a foot apart and a foot higher than the last, forming steps up the board.  You climbed them as they hit, so it appeared as if you were stepping into the air and he was catching you with the arrows.  When you reached the high wire platform above, Clint moved into a different routine.

He hit moving targets, including pinning three small targets that swung down from three different directions and pinning them together with one arrow.  He hit targets while he was flipping from one platform to another.  All the while soaking in the attention from the crowd.  Above him, you were getting into a harness that would only be visible to the keenest of eyes.

When you were secure, you began dropping things on him.  He started by quickly loosing arrows, sometimes three or four at a time, and pinning each item you dropped to a different target around the tent.  Then he switched, dropping his bow and arrow and picking up a sword, as each item fell from above he sliced it in half.

A few of the clowns came out with big trench coats on and carrying umbrellas.  You began dropping water balloons on them and while everyone was distracted, Clint put on his special trenchcoat and hat. It was the one designed for the finale of the routine.  It had a locking mechanism in the arm that allowed him to catch you on the blade of a sword without his arm jerking on impact.

A huge bag of confetti dropped and exploded, queuing the clowns to scatter.  You dropped a few more things down on him, letting Clint use his left arm to slice them in two, to show the crowd that the sword was real and not blunt.

Then you jumped.  You spun in the air, corkscrewing down toward him, he brandished his sword, and when you hit the springboard, you jumped up and flipped.  Clint switched hands and lunged forward, the elbow mechanism locking in place so the flat of the blade was facing up.  You landed on it, sending a shock through his arm.  Everyone clapped and you curtsied while standing on the blade.  Clint moved to grab you in a large over-exaggerated way and you backflipped catching the brim of his hate with your toe and flipping it off his head.  You landed and ran forward, catching the hat on your head.

The crowd erupted, everyone getting to their feet and cheering for you both.  You helped Clint off with his coat and both of you bowed as your horses cantered back into the ring.  You each ran to your horse and vaulted onto it’s back, taking a lap.  Maynard entered the ring with his whip and took his spot on a podium in the middle as the clowns rushed in and cleaned up.  “Let’s hear it again, for Hawkeye and Sugar Snap!’

The crowd applauded more and Clint followed you out of the ring.  “And now, our very own Garden of Eden!”  Maynard called, and Eden ran out past Clint, winking as she passed him.

Clint got off his horse and rolled his shoulders as you approached him.  “I think I need to work on that first jump.  I felt that arrow,” you said.

“You always say that, and I always tell you it’s in your head,” Clint teased.  He walked over to the lip of the curtain and looked out at Eden as she did her contortion act.  You stepped up beside him.

“Just before I came out, Jacques approached her and said something about some art job,” you said.

Clint bristled.  He’d been hearing rumors about an art job for the past few days.  He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, mostly because he just tried to steer clear of all of that.  There had definitely been a meeting with some art guy and the Ringmaster.  Clint had remembered seeing the bald man with his black turtleneck and rectangular framed glasses talking to Tiboldt about the circus performers coming to some art museum as part of a charity gig.  “She’s probably going to be part of that charity gig.”

You shrugged.  “Yeah, maybe.”

Clint turned and looked at you.  “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing,” you said, though he wasn’t convinced.

Clint had managed to get you to legal age without any more explicit photos being taken, but he knew Jacques still had a habit of sniffing around you.  Barely legal wasn’t as good as illegal, but it would still make him money, and you had other things to offer now.  The ability to parkour was a huge advantage to them, and you were very good with a blade.  Clint knew that while the act was as good as it was, Jacques couldn’t threaten to have you kicked out, but he could offer you things and Clint wasn’t totally sure if you would always say no.  Not if it was something like breaking and entering, and if this was some scam being organized by Tiboldt, then he was the boss, and if he said jump, you jumped.

“Sugar?”  Clint pressed.

You huffed.  “Wanted me to help him break in and help them steal some art.  Said Tiboldt wanted everyone on the job.”

“Sugar!”  Clint yelped.

“I said no!”  You said.  “Who wants a bunch of dusty old paintings anyway?”

“You think he’s trying to recruit Eden?”  Clint asked.

You shrugged again.  “Probably.  Or Tiboldt already has and he was just passing on a message.”

Clint sighed, he wanted to believe that she wouldn’t be involved in anything like that, but love and trust were not things that were linked very strongly for him.  “She wouldn't, would she?”  He asked.

You shrugged again.  “I dunno, Clint.  You know her better than me.  I do know that just about everyone else here would.”

He shook his head and stepped away from the curtain.  “I’m gonna take a shower.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nodded and didn’t say anything.  Just as he moved away he looked back at you.  “Hey… thanks… you know…?  For letting me know.”

You nodded and folded your hands over your chest.  “Anytime, Clint.  You know that.  It’s me and you.”

Clint wasn’t so sure about that.  He’d believed it before about other people who had let him down.  But as he sized you up, he thought maybe of all the people in this circus he was supposed to think of as family, you might be the one that fit the description best.

// NEXT

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #it's you and me

[muertawrites]

Hey! I absolutely loved your Zuko x reader one host you wrote, and I was wondering if you could do one where Zuko and the reader barely talk, but she’s part of Azula’s friend group. At the beach some stuff happens, and Zuko finds out she’s not as crazy as he thought she was. Kind of angst. I totally understand if you can’t, or don’t feel like it! I hope you’re safe and healthy, and everything is going well. Thank you!

From Eden (Zuko x Reader)

Word Count: 1,776 (FUHREEDOM MOTHERFUCKERS 🎆🦅🦅🦅 🎆 )

Author’s Note: Ok this request is P E R F E C T. I don’t think I need to tell anyone I love the psychology of this show, but I love the psychology of this show - especially with Zuko and his relationship with himself and others. And this episode??? Ohhhhhh I have some THINGS. TO. SAY. about this episode. I have been in this boy’s place and I feel 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 him 👏🏻 he 👏🏻 deserves 👏🏻 better 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻. I went in a sliiiiiiightly different direction, but I didn’t drastically change it (it turned out cute I think). Also, I named this “From Eden” because as I was writing it reminded me of the Hozier song. I’m such a sucker for a Broken Babe™, especially when the babe in question has a lot of personal growth and learns to love because of it. Thank you so much for this, anon, you’re absolutely gorgeous and I hope you’re keeping safe and healthy as well ❤ 

~ Muerta 

(Also, if you’d like to request something, I have a list of prompts tagged! Feel free to ask for anything from fics to headcanons to imagines - I’m also open to new character suggestions!) 

“Hey.”

Zuko sat on the porch of his family’s old vacation home, his mind miles away. Your greeting made him snap his head towards you, glowering down at where you stood at the base of the front steps. You crossed your arms, responding to his gaze with a defiant glare. 

“What do you want?” he growled. 

“To have normal friends,” you spat in reply. “Seems I’m stuck with you instead.” 

A few hours ago, Zuko almost made a crater in the beach from the campfire you, his sister Azula, and your friends Mai and Ty Lee had started a screaming match around. Insults were flung, tears were shed, and skeletons were evicted from closets, all resulting in your realization that maybe political survival wasn’t worth the dysfunction of constantly being surrounded by a sociopath and her cronies. Pretending to have a super fun sleepover with them back at the guest house was proving to be too much for your fragile sense of self-containment, and you weren’t quite friendly enough with your newfound death wish to tell Azula how you really felt about her, so you went where you knew it would be quiet. You didn’t expect to find Zuko and his anger issues there a second time, but he honestly didn’t scare you - you’d take his obvious rage over Azula’s subtle calculations any day. 

“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” Zuko jeered. “You’re just as emotionally fucked as the rest of them.” 

“Ty Lee’s got herself pretty much under control, despite her gullibility,” you answered cooly. “Also, if you really wanna talk about emotionally fucked, I’m not the one who almost roasted my ex-girlfriend alive earlier.” 

Zuko furrowed his brow at you, leaning forward as if to challenge you. You stayed exactly as you were, regarding him with a hard, unimpressed expression that revealed just how little he intimidated you. You couldn’t bend and weren’t a trained fighter - you knew he knew this, and that he wouldn’t actually attack you, despite how convincing he tried to make his empty threat appear. After a long, intense moment of wrinkled foreheads and competitive frowning, he backed off with a sigh, leaning back against the pillar behind him. 

“So, what, you want to come and make peace? Talk it out or something?” 

You shook your head, climbing the steps and lowering yourself onto the second highest; just below him, with a few feet between you as a courtesy. 

“The last thing I want to do is talk about that dumpster fire on the beach,” you told him. “I just needed some time alone. But, since I found you, I guess it’s a good time to ask if you’re okay.”  

Zuko looked you up and down, a confused and partially concerned look on his face. You half expected him to raise the back of his hand to your forehead to check for fever. 

“What do you care if I’m okay or not?” he asked bitterly. “We’re not friends.” 

“Zuko, I’ve known you since I was a toddler,” you said. “I’d say we’re friends. It’s not like anyone else really is.” 

“Mai is my girlfriend,” Zuko snapped at you. “She’s the best friend I have!” 

“Mai dumped you for being a possessive asshole,” you deadpanned, “then she let her best friend convince you to commit arson. Friends don’t let their friends’ sisters manipulate them into felonies.” 

Zuko huffed, slumping back defeatedly. 

“You can’t act like Azula’s never made you do anything you didn’t want to,” he grumbled. 

“I don’t,” you replied shortly. “I’ve just stopped caring about making her like me, since she really doesn’t like anyone. She doesn't get under my skin like she used to when we were kids.” 

You noticed Zuko’s lips curl upwards into the ghost of a smile. You mirrored him, leaning your arms atop your upright knees. 

“What?” you asked. 

Zuko chuckled faintly, shaking his head. 

“Nothing,” he responded. “You just… Do you remember when you were eight, and Azula teased Ty Lee about being too slow climbing the trees in our courtyard?” 

Your eyes widened in realization, your mouth parting into a wide smile as you let out a gasp of hysterical laughter. 

“Oh, that was awful!” you cried, though the memory only brought more fits of giggles to your gut. “I was such a little brat!” 

Zuko was laughing with you too now, arms wrapped over his stomach as he tried to speak between breaths. 

“It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!” he exclaimed. “Watching her fall out of the tree like that, the shock on her face, and then I caught you with the knife and saw where you cut the branch... She deserved it. You should give her a taste of her own medicine like that more often.” 

You blushed, looking away from him as your laughter died down. 

“Now she could kill me if she wanted,” you said. “I try not to say or do anything around her if I can help it.” 

“... Is that why you’ve been so quiet since then?” 

You nodded. 

“She beat me up when she found out what I did,” you explained. 

You stood, pulling down the waist of your sarong to reveal the burn scar on your right hip. Zuko’s eyes burst with shock at first, wondering exactly why you’d be disrobing in front of him, his expression softening when he saw the mark Azula left. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Most brothers feel like they should protect their little sisters. I always felt like I should’ve protected all of you from her.” 

“You did,” you assured him. You sat back down beside him, closer this time, so that your hips almost touched. “I remember you jumped in front of her once when she threatened us. And that time…” 

Your voice faded, the memory almost bringing tears to your eyes. You couldn’t figure out why. 

“You hid from her,” Zuko finished your thought. 

You nodded. 

“You let me hide in your room,” you recalled. “Remember? Azula punched me. I ran to the first quiet place I could find and accidentally went to your room.” 

Zuko hummed. 

“You were crying,” he added, “and your eye was all red and swollen.” 

“You held me.” 

Zuko’s eyes fixed on you. He didn’t say anything, though he remembered; you burst through his half open door, sniffling, tears and spittle running down your cheeks and chin. It was the first time Azula had actually, physically hurt you, and you were terrified and confused. He asked if you were okay, and you shook your head. Being so young, the only thing he could think to do was hug you, since that’s what his mother did to make him feel better, and you clung to him, sobbing into his shirt and using his much bigger body for protection. After that day, he let you use his bedroom as a hiding place whenever Azula got to be too much - until she found out about it and started teasing you about wedding dresses and baby names. 

“We were friends,” you breathed. “I wish we still were.” 

There was a long silence in which the two of you stared out at the horizon, down the steep hill leading to the vacation house and into the ocean. The moon hung in a small sliver, barely flickering across the calm waters that rocked below; you could hear the gentle rush of waves as they crawled over the sand and shrunk back into themselves, creating a calming din that echoed up to where you sat. 

“... I still remember your favorite game to play with me,” Zuko said into the warm air between you. “Those times you hid in my room. You used to pretend to be a Kyoshi warrior. My mom gave you one of her old fans and we’d jump on and off my bed, trying to catch each other.” 

You grinned. 

“I would wrap myself around your legs to keep you from walking,” you recalled. 

Zuko laughed. 

“I loved that,” he admitted. “It used to make me laugh so hard when we were kids.” 

He looked over to you, and you turned to face him as well. The anger in his eyes was gone completely, in its place a warm, steady sadness that made you ache. 

“I miss you,” he whispered. 

You reached cautiously for his hand, relieved when he slid his fingers between yours and gripped your palm tightly. 

“I miss you, too,” you replied. “I’m sorry I let Azula drive me away from you.” 

Zuko wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tender embrace. Your hands latched together on either side of his back, gripping into his shirt a little bit as you buried your face in his shoulder. He felt and smelled the same as he did when you were little; hard like the walls of a sturdy house and sweet like the last embers in a fireplace.

You didn’t know how long you held each other, but when you broke apart, you sat together for ages, existing in silence on the steps of his childhood house and beside one another. You felt small again, but in the best way - you felt like the girl who was brave enough to cut through the branches of a maple tree so your tormenter would fall out of them. 

“I want to run away,” you blurted. “I could be someone totally different if I weren’t stuck here.” 

“If you do, I’ll go with you,” Zuko said. “We can be different people together.” 

You grinned, leaning your shoulder against his. 

“We could move to Kyoshi Island,” you suggested. “I’m too old to start warrior training now, but we could start a business. Open an inn or something.” 

Zuko chuckled at the thought. 

“I’ll call myself Lee,” he mused, “and you can go by Izumi.” 

“Maybe we could be married. And we could adopt orphan children and cats.” 

“Just cats. You can’t emotionally destroy a cat like you can with a kid.” 

You glanced over at him, noticing the hard gleam in his eye. You wrapped your arms around his bicep, holding him close to you. 

“You’re not your father, Zuko,” you whispered. “You don’t want to be.” 

Zuko nodded. He reached for one of your hands, curling his own around it. 

“... I feel like I am going to leave,” he said, “at some point. When I do… will you stay? So that I have at least one friendly face to come home to someday?” 

You nodded, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. 

“I will,” you promised. “And when you do, I’ll give you Azula’s severed head as a homecoming present.” 

Zuko laughed at that. 

{ epilogue }

#requests #muerta's works #zuko #prince zuko #zuko fluff #prince zuko fluff #zuko angst #zuko x reader #zuko x you #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x you #zuko fanfic #prince zuko fanfic #zuko x reader fluff #zuko x reader angst #atla fanfic #avatar fanfiction

[codename-adler]

Kevin Day and his Oblivious Literature Lover, pt.V

Let’s all repeat after me: therapizing our faves helps us therapize ourselves! If Kevin can get better, maybe we all can... right? 

>>Table of Contents, TW and other parts here!

the water runs behind the bathroom door for so long that Kevin spaces out in his spot on the floor, losing himself in thoughts about the Foxhole Court (surprise, surprise)

Juliet comes out at last an hour later, freshly showered, her hair wet and springy, her face even paler than before

she goes to rummage through her tiny dresser, slow and silent like a dead walker, and pulls out multiple clothes before going back into the humidity of the bathroom

she finally comes out into the room a few minutes later, dressed in clean sweatpants and multiple t-shirts and sweaters

the one on top is a simple, XXL black hoodie with the PSU logo on the front, in washed out orange

Kevin unconsciously thinks that the blindingly bright orange Exy hoodies the Foxes have would suit her so much better

happy colors help happy thoughts, right? 

(who said that again? was it Nicky? he was probably talking about the gay flag anyways...)

Kevin is pulled from his thoughts when Juliet trudges over to her bed, lets herself fall in it and sluggishly pulls on blue fuzzy socks to warm her cold feet

he slighlty turns to look up at Juliet, and they start a staring contest from where they each sit

but Kevin soon realizes that not everything is a contest, and not everyone exists to challenge him, and Juliet isn’t the Foxes

because she barely lasts 2 seconds before lowering her gaze to her hands, shoulders tensing and fingers picking at dry skin

however, as Kevin keeps feeling out of his depth and thinks about just leaving right there and then, Juliet quietly mumbles

“If I talk, will you talk too?”

Kevin’s first thought is “I don’t have shit to say and I sure as hell wouldn’t give you dirt on me,” and it clearly shows on his face

lucky for him, Juliet’s head is still lowered, so he has time to force himself out of his fight-or-flight relfex

she isn’t the Foxes, she isn’t the Ravens, she isn’t the Foxes, she isn’t the Ravens, she-

but still, what if she is? what if this is all a scam? 

but then again, he looked for her, he found her, he spent the night, he is asking... if anyone’s nosy in all this, it’s him

it feels like at the point where he is, where they are, he’s acted far from his usual, asshole self, and he just wants to keep going... it feels good not to fight

“Yes, I will talk. If the subject stays within the limits of what I’m willing to talk about. You should do so yourself,” Kevin states, not quite softly, but not quite sharply either, like he usually does

Juliet anxiously nods, still not looking up

the silence settles back between them, the room heavy with dread, fear and awkwardness

after a while, Juliet speaks up, barely above a whisper, but in the quiet of her room, it feels like her words ring in Kevin’s ears

“If I google you right now, what am I going to find?”

and shit

anything but that

he wants to hold on so bad, just a little while more, to this nobody he’s managed to keep up with Juliet

because if she knows... then everything he’s managed to keep at bay when he’s with her will come rushing back over him, and over her too

and he doesn’t want that

it’s not shame, it’s not pride

it’s pure fear

“You are going to see very ugly things,” is all he responds, face blank and emptily staring at the wall

inside, though, it stings to say those words. because it isn’t totally the truth. exy is his pride, his reason to live, his air to breathe. but if she finds out about exy, she will also learn about the violence, the multiple “accidents”, she’ll know about Riko...

and if she knows about Riko, she’s one step closer to Riko knowing about her

“Kevin. When you say ‘ugly��, you mean you’ve had a shitty life so far, or you mean you’ve killed many people? Because you’re the man who slept on my floor all night and I’m alone, and I’m very afraid right now.”

of course he fucked it up one question in

what is he supposed to say, though? ‘Of course I’m not a murderer, but my owners are’ ? 

and the more he thinks about the correct answer to give, the more he looks like he’s searching for an excuse and the more Juliet is retreating into the corner of her bed

“Fuck, no. It means that half the cards I’ve been dealt with are extremely good, and the other half is very, very fucked up. And it’s all over the Internet. And the things that you won’t find there are the ugliest. Ugly secrets that make me even more unlikeable to my... roommates, and our classmates. A walking asshole on a stick.”

Juliet stops moving

“That’s… quite the load of bullshit, Kevin. I won’t look, okay? I promise you. But you said truth for truth. That is not a truth. But... you also said we don’t have to answer if we don’t want to. Kevin, you don’t have to. I’ll take your word that you’re not a serial killer. I’ll haunt you if you are, though. I’ll make all your spoons disappear. And kick you in your sleep.”

Kevin didn’t know how to react

it was so… easy

too easy

just like that, the subject was dropped

no pushing, no threatening knife, no mood swing

now it was his turn

somehow he could only think of Matt, of Aaron and their nights out at Eden’s, of Seth…

“Are you on drugs?” was out of his mouth before he could be careful of his tone

it sounded severe, accusing

yet Juliet did not react, not even a little bit

she just kept on looking at him, letting the silence pressure him into guiltily babbling his excuse

“I’ve seen these signs before, okay! And heard about them too. I know what addiction looks like. The sickly pale skin, the mess, the absences, the shutdowns. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what.”

“Like a wounded animal.”

his tone was harsh enough to resemble the attitude he usually reserved for the Foxes

and he knew he’d been too rough when it caused Juliet to draw in a shaky breath

“Wow, you’re really good at that… Ever considered being a detective or a life coach? You’re actually not far from the truth… Jesus,” Juliet exhaled. “I do take drugs. Antidepressants. Strong ones. And I ran out this week. I don’t have the money. You’re currently witnessing a withdrawal combined with a depressive episode. Impressive, huh?”

her voice was so devoid of emotions Kevin was reminded once again of Andrew…

except that her face was a mirror cracked open, her pain palpable in the air between them

his first instinct was to reply ‘What’s wrong with you?’, because he genuinely wanted to know why she had to take such heavy medication at her age, and why she couldn’t afford it anymore, but he willed himself to let the words die on his tongue; try not to be a fuckup this time, will you?

however, before Kevin could formulate his thought correctly, the silence overworked Juliet too and she filled it with her story...

“I was diagnosed with dysthymia a couple of months ago. I’ve basically been stuck in a dark cloud since I was like, 15. Never went away. Wasn’t ‘serious’ enough to get medical attention, like the docs said. Fast forward last winter, I had a complete nervous breakdown at my workplace. It was pretty ugly. 911, ambulance, psych ward, psych eval, pills, and other… things. Oh, and a fuckload of bills. Even my scholarship doesn’t cover all of that. So I tried to make my prescriptions last longer by taking my medication every other day, which… Well, not recommended by your local psychiatrist. Last weekend I had to choose between groceries or pills. Now my body is missing its drugs and I’m missing major classes. So…  Ta-da…” she told Kevin, her arms slowly moving as if to present a show.

Kevin was speechless

not because he was shocked, or because he pitied her, or because he was disgusted

he was speechless because of the anger that choked him from inside

he felt such a rage at the idea that Juliet couldn’t receive the help she needed, the care she deserved

he was speechless because as anger consumed him, he realized that it was the same anger he’d felt when Jean was given back to him in pieces

he was speechless because he cared too much, now

he hadn’t even seen it coming

if Juliet were to be pulled away now, it’d feel like pulling every stitches he ever had

and all it had taken was a few months

#oof #that was a heavy and emotionally draining chunk #a somewhat soft Kevin to soothe my restless mind and my heacy heart #and yours too #aftg #aftg fic #aftg fanfic #kevin day #bi kevin day #kevin day x oc #kevin day x juliet grier #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king's men #all for the game #kevin day fic #tfc #trk #tkm #nora sakavic #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #matt boyd #seth gordon #jean moreau #the foxes #psu foxes #palmetto state university #exy

[jamboreeofsurprises]

what shoujo manga do you reccomend? :O I've been getting rlly interested in reading some for myself

this was apparently also unanswered in my ask box and i genuinely have no idea when it was sent, sorry about that!

here are some that i like

- Cardcaptor Sakura: cardcaptor sakura is great because while it is genre-savvy, you don't have to be deep into magical girls or even manga in general to appreciate it: it's truly a manga for all ages that keeps all its readers in mind. it stands out to me as a series that is beautiful because there isn't a hint of meanspiritedness anywhere to be found in it. this is a cast of characters who are looking out for each other's best interests at all times and are deeply compassionate toward one another. plus, Clamp's artistry really shines with terrific designs and illustrious linework. i can't recommend it enough

- Candy Candy: I actually read this all in japanese with a dictionary, so there's parts of the story i should be a lot clearer on that i'm not. i really hope the author and artist can resolve their copyright dispute so it can finally be reprinted and localized. the forbidden nature of candy candy products since they are no longer legally made (i.e. bootleg dvd sets) creates quite an air of intrigue. anyway - Candy Candy is a great early 20th century-set orphan story from the 70s in the wake of the popularity of books like anne of green gables in japan during that time (so if you like anne of green gables i'd recommend this). it is full of melodrama and heart and a heroine who refuses to quit no matter how life tries to break her heart. i was very moved by the conclusion to this series, I still would like to finish the anime adaptation someday.

- Tokimeki Tonight: i've never read this in its entirety, it's apparently pretty long and also has like two sequel series that are long in their own rights chronicling the lives of the protagonist's descendants? that's crazy. but anyway, this is a fun series about a girl whose dad is a vampire and her mother is a werewolf and she desperately just wants to be average and blend in and attract the attention of her classmate she loves but instead she starts inheriting her parents' weird powers and getting deeper intwined in demon world conflicts and whatnot. koi ikeno's art is cute and funny and the situations are very entertaining. i watched the whole anime too! great stuff that i hope is localized officially one day so we can have it all.

- Cipher: i'm still reading this! it's a way longer series than I thought it was and here's the kicker, the company printing it in English went bankrupt right before translating the final book, and I don't think anyone's even fan translated the last volume. so i'm not looking forward to that cliffhanger!! anyway, Cipher is the peak of 80s manga being set in then-contemporary New York and having an americaphile author/artist, which shines through constant references to MTV, east of eden, michael jackson and the like, but this isn't a corny or silly series (well it does have corny and silly moments), it's a very compelling drama with fully-realized characters. i find it so engrossing every time i pick it up, i don't know why. minako narita's artwork is fantastically detailed brimming with a naive but charming love of the US and it's always such fun to look at, plus Anise has got to be one of my favorite leads in a manga.

- From Eroica With Love: another one i haven't finished probably because it straight up ran from the mid-70s to the 2010s, this one is LONG and also out of print. from eroica with love is james bond but gay and glam rock. We have a fabulous international art thief Dorian based on robert plant for a protagonist, his stingy accountant James based on jimmy page, and an asexual german tank-lover who is the object of dorian's affections and hates his guts. they are constantly getting coincidentally entangled in the same international espionage. it's wacky good fun, genuinely well-written self-contained spy stories that i think have a surprisingly wide appeal.

These paragraphs ended up long, they were originally going to be a few sentences each. :(

#ask box

[beneaththetangles]

Shoujo and the Bride of Christ (II)

FRIAR LAURENCE I’ll give thee armour to keep off that word: Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy, To comfort thee, though thou art banished. ROMEO Yet ‘banished’? Hang up philosophy! Unless philosophy can make a Juliet…

Well, yeah, that’s how it usually goes. Were I Fr. Laurence, I’d probably have gone for something more like, “Go play some Renaissance baseball analogue to exhaustion, sleep well, and let’s speak of this again tomorrow.” And yet, I think the poor friar has a point here. Because romantic love between man and woman is not only a life-changing discovery and a call to fight the good fight, but also, unavoidably, something of a comedy of errors, misunderstandings, and absurdities, some of that would benefit from some reflection and wisdom, especially taking into account that, given the centrality of love and its signs in human life, the errors may very well turn the comedy into a tragedy (which, as a matter of fact… but no spoilers).

I fondly remember my first date of sorts, during my Freshman year at university. It was a great time, I deeply cared about the girl, and I´ll always pray for her, wherever she is. But, you may have noticed the “of sorts” part. Man, it is amazing how two human beings can interpret the same set of facts so differently. You miss the signs, and in retrospect, suddenly, it is obvious. Not everything is as meant to be as it seemed. Ahem. Where was I. My point was that hope, self-deception, wild assumptions, strikingly different understandings of what is happening, rose-colored or black-colored glasses, dubious rationalizations or whirlwind rides from the summit to the pits of desperation are part of the experience of being in love, and may take us to absurd, or dangerous, or hurtful, or simply unhelpful paths. And there are some things we can prevent, too, if, without losing the hopeful, fiery, courageous impulse, we learn from our experiences, and try to discern carefully.

In the fallen world, we need this kind of armor, even if we also need to avoid become trapped in them. It may not be sweet milk, but we may need some of adversity’s Georgia MAX Coffee. To set our hearts ablaze, and yet think and decide carefully, soberly, set of being kind and just. We need a sense of humor, and a willingness to correct course. We need patience, to interpret what is happening rightly, to differentiate between truth and hope without rejecting either, to accept the less glamorous aspects of loving someone. Reflection certainly cannot make a Juliet, but may help me, well, knowing, courting and loving the real Juliet, and not just the one in my head.

In my last article, I mentioned how anime has a gift for vivid personal worlds which leads to great depictions of the discovery of romantic love. It also has a natural tendency towards introspection and flashbacks (slow motion means there is less drawing to do, while flashbacks sometimes mean that you can reuse some takes, or so I have heard). But from these technical conveniences, it has gone far beyond, and developed a remarkable artistic tradition of adding layers to the past and the present.

And so, you have many great stories in which you see again what you once saw, and everything falls into place. Tragedies and comedies alike rely on this tools, and so we have tricky stories of love, heroism, mysteries and fate like Madoka and Erased, Oregairu, Fate Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works and Mawaru Penguindrum, Haruhi (like the protagonist, I just can’t escape Haruhi) or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Teasing Master Takagi-san and Princess Tutu.

In the shoujo genre, this tradition is just as strong. Reminiscence, interpretation, doubt, memories, hopes, the past, are often put to great use. So, let’s go on with my crazy (but St. Paul-sponsored) idea that the depiction of human love between man and woman, as well as a profound mystery, illustrates the relationship between Christ and the Church. What if I were to say that the illusions of love and their comical and tragic consequences are also helpful there? Once again, please bear with me.

Tohru Honda, and the Ugliness in the House of the Twelve

Just as compelling, super-strong warrior maidens, childhood friends in love since forever and ice queens who happen to be all interested in the same regular-looking, not-especially-popular guy are far more common in anime than the average high school, shoujo has its own wishful tropes. Rose-colored ambiences, Cinderella stories, roses framing the scenes, golden bubbles, and legions of strikingly good-looking characters with secret pains that only the protagonist can heal are among them. Fruits Basket (2001) takes some of this approach to the extreme. As a child, Tohru Honda would weep when the cat of a fable her mother told her was excluded by the twelve animals of the Chinese Zodiac. She was the same, as other kids at school excluded her, telling her that she was the onigiri (rice ball) in their fruits basket game, and letting her wait in vain to be called like the rest.

Since then, she has grown into an ever-optimistic, hard-working, generous, and extremely kind girl. Her mother has recently died, and, not wanting to bother anyone, she now lives…in a tent near a river. She cooks for herself, goes to school everyday, and works part-time in the evenings. But, when her place collapses during a storm, the elegant but distant school ice prince, Yuki Sohma, who lives with his older (yet also good-looking) cousin Shigure, takes her to his home. Soon, a loud, messy, athletic, troubled (and… yeah) cousin of Yuki and Tohru’s age called Kyo comes to live with them. As it happens, the family is cursed: They are the incarnations of animals of the Chinese Zodiac, and transform into animals when they are hold by someone (non-cursed) of the opposite sex. Learning of Tohru’s extraordinary circumstances, they offer her the job of housekeeper. And so it begins.

So, as you can see, not so much MAX Coffee so far. In the episodes that follow, Tohru increasingly becomes the loving, beating heart of the cursed Sohma family, able to help healing their wounds with her kindness, honesty and simple commitment. Everyone, or almost, is enchanted. It is a bit excessive. Honestly, I had to endure some parts of the story. And yet, why do I like it so? The answer is that, despite all the sometimes far-fetched circumstances, Tohru’s kindness is genuine. And I will never disdain genuine kindness, or laugh at it. And it did pay off. I won’t be too specific, but it did. “I have described it” says our Sensei of the entire Fruits Basket manga “as a giant wave of blessing, crashing on and overtaking one person after another after another in ever widening circles, all thanks to an unseen and unacknowledged God who also breaks real curses in real human lives.”

The Church of Christ, the prophesied new Covenant, is also like that. It’s the ultimate Cinderella story. Each of us Christians has been chosen by Christ. He has brought us home to a love like no other, to words of eternal life, to true communion, to forgiveness, to the Bread of Life, to miracles and wonders. To the key truths that the truly simple and the truly wise perceive. To true hope, to a love our deepest being is thirsty for, that transforms and solidifies us, that makes us ourselves. Open to those we love, too, and to everyone in this world. The joys in my life in Christ are unlike any others I have experienced. And that light, that goodness, are very real. But from there, precisely because it is so powerful, it’s easy to get things wrong. The Apostles imagined themselves reigning in a political Kingdom of Israel. St. Joan D’Arc thought she would return home to Domrémy. Lovers say that everything will be Eden now that they have each other. I may conclude that something is a date.

Tohru is a very optimistic character, and a very hopeful girl. But those are not always the same. While she feels blessed and fights her daily battles, both the evil and the good around her are beyond her understanding. When Israel, freely chosen by God, became a powerful nation free from its slavery in Egypt, completed its Exodus, sealed its alliance with God, conquered the Promised Land promised to Abraham and eventually became a great kingdom with a temple, everything seemed right. God walked with them, fought for them, was present. The Law described true goodness, in opposition to the idolatry, ignorance and self-enclosement of the Pagan world. There were miracles. But the real, deeper danger was there, mostly unbeknownst to them. So the Lord sent them inspired prophets, to awake them, to make them able to discern, to provide them with the right interpretation.

And then, He sent them His own Son, and He gave testimony to the truth, and was rejected and killed. And so the true darkness of Israel and the entire human race, the true enemy, came into light in all its ugliness. God tortured. God killed. But He is risen, and He has shown us a way: Himself. This is the story St. John tells us at the beginning of his Gospel. There is a moment (again, I won’t be very explicit) when Tohru’s previous love and kindness are not enough. When her commitment is tested and no one can help. When everything she has experienced, everything she has achieved, is put into question, and she has to acknowledge that she was wrong. When there are no easy answers. When she is forced to confront the genuine ugliness at the heart of the house of Sohma, the cursed monstrosity, the law of this world, without assurance that all will be well. It is the time to listen with faith. To embrace Christ in the Cross, and walk beyond anything we can see.

You may have heard the story of Emmaus. After the Crucifixion, two disciples walked away. Everything had collapsed. They had seen miracles and walked with Christ, but now their hope was dead. That is our Tohru, too. But a stranger walked with them, and asked them what had happened. They explained. And the stranger said: “O foolish ones, how slow are your hearts to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary for the Christ to suffer these things and then to enter His glory?” It was. “And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, He explained to them what was written in all the Scriptures about Himself.” “Were not our hearts burning within us as He spoke with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?” Tohru’s Gethsemane experience was also necessary, and, for me, it was also the high point of the series. The character invested with a prophetic role also pointed her the way. And what happens in that place of darkness is believable, human, moving. Helpful.

From there, Tohru will be fruitful in a new world, because she can love in a way that can truly break the unmoving iron structure of her world. New possibilities of love are open. Being in the dream house of Sohma was not enough. For the Israelites, reaching the Promised Land was not enough. For a man and a woman in love, the moment of confession and corresponded feelings is not enough. For us, entering the Church, a personal bond with Christ, is not enough. We have also to experience, to witness, that whatever is born of God overcomes the world. That is our hope. From Pentecost to our days, Christ’s Church is prophetic, partaking in His mission as the teacher of true hope and true love. “He who hears you hears Me, he who rejects you rejects Me, and he who rejects Me rejects Him who sent Me.” She teaches us, warns us, reveals us the true meaning of what is happening, if we continue to listen, if we are humble, if we remain disciples.

How may this discipleship look in our lives? Tohru has many teachers. As the disciples of the first hour, we have the Gospel. In Emmaus, Christ pointed us to all the Scriptures. Also, the Catholic understanding is that, just as in Pentecost the inspired Apostle Peter stood up with the Eleven and proclaimed to the crowd the true meaning of what has happened, he being the spokesman, so their respective successors are invested with the charism in their announce and teaching, the Bishops in union with Peter. To them, it was said, “I have many more things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. But when He, the Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all the truth.” I do believe that, from Pentecost and on, it has continued to be so. Also, Tohru had Saki, and Paul and the Acts tell us about prophets in the Church, and of ways to distinguish the true from the false. As the Spirit also lives in us, we have the signs, inspirations, even miracles, we may come to receive in our own prayer life. And lastly, we have a mind, created by God. We can reflect, taking all the above into account. And, as Tohru, the Bride of Christ, ears open, will learn how to be the Bride of Christ. I will. So I hope.

Only God knows what will happen in our lives, or why. Loving makes us both strong and vulnerable. We can be tempted, scandalized and hurt, sometimes terribly, even in the Church, by our teachers, brothers and sisters. We may discover we have hurt them terribly. In the course of life, we may suffer blows we didn’t expect. Our sins, our wounds, may overcome us. We may enter periods of spiritual darkness, or of depression. Signs may disappear. Everything may seem to collapse. But it is not over. The fight to truly love, to be ourselves in Christ, goes on. We will need to be vigilant, to check our assumptions, to be open to be corrected by God through the teachings of His Church. Because we need an armor.

“Finally,” St. Paul says to the Church, “be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.” Fight with courage, Honda-san, and remain open. A deeper love, a new world, a path of salvation, lie ahead.

Yeah, I know I should watch the 2019 remake and read the manga. I will, eventually. No Divine Comedy for now, but it is near. And, as you may or may not know, the lady at the top is Mademoiselle de Jarjeyes, protagonist of another iconic shoujo, which is… not coincidental! Until the next time, stay strong, and Happy Easter.

=====

Fruits Basket (2001) can be streamed at Funimation, Crunchyroll and Amazon Prime Video.

#Anime #Christianity #Fruits Basket #Fruits Basket 2001 #Shojo #Shoujo #Articles #Author: Gaheret

[graciousheaven]

RIGHTEOUSNESS: GOD'S FREE GIFT TO SINNERS

The Lord God Almighty, our Sovereign Lord is a unique entity with unique attributes exclusively inherent to his person. And these qualities are clearly revealed to us in the things that He does. As the Apostle Paul says in Romans 1:20, “Ever since God created the world, his invisible qualities, both his eternal power and his divine nature, have been clearly seen; they are perceived in the things that God has made.” Therefore it is essential for us to study God’s power in creation, his nature and his deeds in order to comprehend who He is and to properly define his attributes. And it is also important for us to note that among the uncountable deeds of our Lord there is one preeminent act in which greater revelations of his divine attributes are found: the crucifixion of our Lord Jesus Christ. Christ’s redemptive work on the cross reveals to us all the attributes of our God. The cross is a crucial element to consider when we seek to know God, when we seek to understand his attributes. The cross is the place where all our sins were paid for. Christ was hanged on that tree and He bore our sins though He knew no sin, in order to appease God’s wrath and satisfy God’s divine justice. He was our substitute on the cross. As Isaiah 53:4 says, “He endured the suffering that should have been ours, the pain that we should have borne.”

The Sovereign Lord announces his redemptive plan through his Son Jesus Christ since the beginning in Genesis after the fall of Adam. When God, the righteous God pronounces judgement against the serpent in the Garden of Eden, He declares: “I will make you and the woman hate each other; her offspring and yours will always be enemies. Her offspring will crush your head, and you will bite her offspring’s heel.” (Genesis 3:15). The Lord God Almighty, thence, determines the means by which his righteous demand for justice would be satisfied. Under the old covenant, sacrifices for sin were performed yearly by the Jewish High Priest. But these sacrifices did not purify people, but they did “serve year after year to remind people of their sins. For the blood of bulls and goats can never take away sins.” (Hebrews 9:3-4). And Hebrews 10:5-10 tells us that, “For this reason, when Christ was about to come into the world, He said to God: ‘You do not want sacrifices and offerings, but you have prepared a body for Me. You are not pleased with animals burnt whole on the altar or with sacrifices to take away sins. Then I said, ‘Here I am, to do your will, O God, just as it is written of Me in the book of the Law.’” Hebrews 10:10-14 says, “Because Jesus Christ did what God wanted Him to do, we are all purified from sin by the offering that He made of his own body once and for all. Every Jewish priest performs his services every day and offers the same sacrifices many times; but these sacrifices can never take away sins. Christ, however, offered one sacrifice for sins, an offering that is effective for ever, and then He sat down at the right-hand side of God. There He now waits until God puts his enemies as a footstool under his feet. With one sacrifice, then, He has made perfect for ever those who are purified from sin.”

God reconciled us to his grace through the redemptive work of Christ on the cross. Without the cross the entire human race would end up in hell. But “by becoming a curse for us Christ has redeemed us from the curse that the Law brings; for the Scripture says, ‘Anyone who is hanged on a tree is under God’s curse.’” (Galatians 3:13).  The cross of Jesus is the revelation of the righteousness of God. Christ’s sacrifice takes away the sins of believers. He was sacrificed once and for all, unlike the sacrifices for sin that were performed yearly into the Most Holy Place under the old covenant by the High Priest. As Hebrews 9:24-28 tells us, “Christ did not go into a Holy Place made by human hands, which was a copy of the real one. He went into Heaven itself, where He now appears on our behalf in the presence of God. The Jewish High Priest goes into the Most Holy Place every year with the blood of an animal. But Christ did not go in to offer Himself many times, for then He would have had to suffer many times ever since the creation of the world. Instead, now when all ages of time are nearing the end, He has appeared once and for all, to remove sin through the sacrifice of Himself. Everyone must die once, and after that be judged by God. In the same manner Christ also was offered in sacrifice once to take away the sins of many. He will appear a second time, not to deal with sin, but to save those who are waiting for Him.”  

 The cross of Jesus is the ultimate revelation of the righteousness of God. We cannot understand the righteousness of God apart from the cross; we cannot fully grasp its meaning apart from the Gospel. The Gospel is the revelation of God’s righteousness: it demonstrates God’s power to save all who believe. “For the Gospel reveals how God puts people right with Himself: it is through faith from beginning to end. As the Scripture says, ‘The person who is put right with God through faith shall live.’” (Romans 1:17). When we say that God is righteous, it simply means that He is morally upright, He is just and He rewards anyone according to his deeds. God has set a standard by which we are to live. Micah 6:8 tells us “What He requires of us is this: to do what is just, to show constant love, and to live in humble fellowship with our God.” This is the standard by which we will be judged – “A good person will be rewarded for doing good, and an evil person will suffer for the evil he does.” (Ezekiel 18:20). By punishing the wicked and by rewarding the righteous, God exercises his judicial authority and role; He demonstrates his righteousness.  To quote Dr. Steven J. Lawson, “Righteousness means to give to each man his due based upon his conformity or lack of conformity to the divine standard of perfect holiness.” Because God is righteous, He punishes sin and rewards those who are right with Him. God loves what is right and hates what is wrong; He hates the lawless with all his heart. He punishes evil, He punishes the wicked, but He rewards those who live to the standard set by Him.

Psalms 11:7 says:  “The LORD is righteous and loves good deeds; those who do them will live in his presence.” But now the problem is: “We “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23). God created us upright, but we have sought out evil schemes. We are all under the power of sin. In sin we were all conceived and in sin we live. Sin is our inheritance from the blood of Adam. Sin is inherent to our human nature. Sin has separated us from the glorious presence of God our Creator. No human being born of a man and a woman is without sin. Romans 3:10-18 says, “There is no one who is righteous, no one who is wise or who worships God. All have turned away from God; they have all gone wrong; no one does what is right, not even one. Their words are full of deadly deceit; wicked lies roll off their tongues, and dangerous threats, like snake’s poison, from their lips; their speech is filled with bitter curses. They are quick to hurt and kill, they leave ruin and destruction wherever they go. They have not known the path of peace, nor have they learnt reverence for God.”

No human being born of a man and a woman lives to the standard set by God. We are inherently evil. This means we all deserve to die. For the reward for sin is death.  But “God so loved the world that He gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16). God Himself provided the atonement for his justice to be satisfied. It was his will since the beginning to redeem his people. It was God’s plan to save people from his own wrath. As Paul says in Ephesians 1:5, “Because of his love God had already decided that through Jesus Christ He would make us his sons and daughters – this was his pleasure and purpose.” Right from Genesis 3 the Sovereign Lord promises the coming of the Messiah who takes away the sins of his people. This promise has been fulfilled on the cross in Calvary, where God offered his own Son as the propitiation for our sins. He slaughtered his only beloved Son in order to appease his wrath, the wrath that you and I have stirred up because of our sins against the Holy Lord God Almighty. God did not spare Him because his justice needed to be satisfied. And the only way you and I could be justified and reconciled to the Holy God was through the blood of his Son. It pleased God to sacrifice his Son, so that you and I may share the glory of the Son. Christ suffered in the hand of his own Father so that you and I may have eternal life.

Christ died as our substitute on the cross. God imputed our sins to his Son and credited the righteousness of his Son to us who believe. “It was not because of any good deeds that we ourselves had done, but because of his own mercy that He saved us, through the Holy Spirit, who gives us new birth and new life by washing us. God poured out the Holy Spirit abundantly on us through Jesus Christ our Saviour, so that by his grace we might be put right with God and come into possession of the eternal life we hope for.” (Titus 3:5-7). The Lord Jesus Christ is our righteousness. His righteousness is imputed to us through faith in Him. Christ is the Way, the Truth, and the Life; no one goes to the Father except by Him. Christ reconciled us to the Father by taking our place on that tree. “God made peace through his Son’s blood on the cross and so brought back to Himself all things, both on earth and in Heaven.” (Colossians 1:20).

We used to be sons and daughters of disobedience, controlled by the evil passions and desires of the flesh. We were dead and slaves to sin. God justified us through Christ in order to bring us holy, pure, and faultless into his presence. “God puts people right through their faith in Jesus Christ. God does this to all who believe in Christ, because there is no difference at all: everyone has sinned and is far away from God’s saving presence. But by the free gift of God’s grace all are put right with Him through Christ Jesus, who sets them free. God offered Him, so that by his blood He should become the means by which people’s sins are forgiven through their faith in Him. God did this in order to demonstrate that He is righteous. In the past He was patient and overlooked people’s sins; but in the present time He deals with their sins, in order to demonstrate his righteousness. In this way God shows that He himself is righteous and that He puts right everyone who believes in Jesus” (Romans 3:22-26).

It was to justify us, to put us right with Himself that God sacrificed his only Son. Christ redeemed us and therefore his righteousness got imputed to us who believe in Him. We do not have a righteousness of our own; our righteousness comes from God through faith in Christ. We are ruled by the love of Christ; He died to reconcile us to God. Christ died to satisfy the righteous demand of God’s divine justice. Through his blood we are put right with God through our faith in Him. “By Him we are put right with God; we become God’s holy people and are set free. So then, as the Scripture says, ‘Whoever wants to boast must boast of what the Lord has done.” (1 Corinthians 1:30). God through his Son changed us from enemies into his friends. God did not keep an account of our sins. He gave his own Son as a propitiation in order to cancel our sins, not as the result of our own efforts, but as a gift, the result of his love, mercy and grace.

We have been legally justified before God. Christ bore our sins and has brought us into this experience of God’s grace, in which we now live. We are free from the bondage of sin; we are no longer slaves to sin. Romans 8:1-4 tells us: “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death. For what the law was powerless to do because it was weakened by the flesh, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to be a sin offering. And so He condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fully met in us, who do not live according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.” Christ came on earth to fulfill the law; He paid all the penalties for us who believe in Him. His substitutionary death on the cross paid for our sins; it set us free and reconciled us to God. There is no more separation, no more condemnation – God’s divine wrath is appeased; justice is satisfied. Romans 5:17 says: “All who receive God’s abundant grace and are freely put right with Him will rule in life through Christ.” God has put his stamp of ownership on us who believe in Christ by giving us his Spirit. God in his goodness and saving grace has blessed us who believe in his Son with the Holy Spirit – “The Spirit is the guarantee that we shall receive what God has promised his people, and this assures us that God will give complete freedom to those who are his.” (Ephesians 1:14). “Law was introduced in order to increase wrongdoing; but where sin increased, God’s grace increased much more. So then, just as sin ruled by means of death, so also God’s grace rules by means of righteousness, leading us to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Romans 5:20-21).

Now that through God’s grace we have received the righteousness of Christ our Lord and Saviour, the question is: Can we continue to live like when we were still foreigners to God’s grace? Should we go on sinning because we have been justified before the Holy One? Christ has satisfied the righteous demand of God’s divine justice, He has appeased God’s wrath on our behalf by paying for our past, present and future sins. Should we continue to be ruled by the flesh? We have been called by God through his Son to live a holy life. We have been redeemed so that we can live to the standard set by God. Romans 8:12-13 tells us, “we have an obligation, but it is not to live as our human nature wants us to. For if you live according to your human nature, you are going to die; but if by the Spirit you put to death your sinful actions, you will live.” We are urged to be like our Master, to be filled with the Spirit, to be humble, loving and kind. We are no longer slaves to sin, but Christ’s slaves, slaves of righteousness. For we have be called by God to follow Christ in his steps, to live like Christ, to live a righteous life. As Paul says in Romans 6:18-20, “You were set free from sin and became the slaves of righteousness. At one time you surrendered yourselves entirely as slaves to impurity and wickedness for wicked purposes. In the same way you must now surrender yourselves entirely as slaves of righteousness for holy purposes. When you were slaves of sin, you were free from righteousness.” 2 Corinthians 5:15 says, Christ “died for all, so that those who live should no longer live for themselves, but only for Him who died and was raised to life for their sake.” Colossians 3:1-4 tells us, “You have been raised to life with Christ, so set your hearts on the things that are in heaven, where Christ sits on his throne at the right-hand side of God. Keep your minds fixed on things there, not on things here on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. Your real life is Christ and when He appears, then you too will appear with Him and share his glory!”

It is written: “God has made us what we are, and in our union with Christ Jesus He has created us for a life of good deeds, which He has already prepared for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10). We are to offer ourselves as living sacrifices to God, fully devoted to worshipping and serving Him. “God has revealed his grace for the salvation of the whole human race. That grace instructs us to give up ungodly living and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in this world, as we wait for the blessed Day we hope for, when the glory of our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ will appear. He gave Himself for us, to rescue us from all wickedness and to make us a pure people who belong to Him alone and are eager to do good.” (Titus 2:11-14). The Lord commands us in Matthew 6:33, “Be concerned above everything else with the Kingdom of God and with what He requires of you.” We must not surrender any part of our being to sin to be used for wicked purposes. Instead, we must give ourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life, and surrender our whole being to Him to be used for righteous purposes. For we were set free from sin and became the slaves of righteousness. (Romans 6:13). We must feed ourselves on the words of faith. Like Paul says in his second letter to Timothy, we must keep away from godless legends and human doctrines and train ourselves for godly life. “Christ was without sin, but for our sake God made Him share our sin in order that in union with Him we might share the righteousness of God.” (2 Corinthians 5:21). Therefore our minds and hearts must be made new now that we are Christ’s slaves. We must clothe ourselves with kindness, gentleness, love, patience, goodness, endurance, faithfulness and obedience.

Under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, Paul in his letter to Ephesus urges us to put on the new self, which is created in God’s likeness and reveals itself in the true life that is upright and holy. We have been called to live like Christ, to walk in the Spirit. Our lives must be controlled by the Spirit. The Spirit of God works in us to sanctify us, to conform us to the image of Christ. In the same way we are freely justified by God through faith in Christ, our sanctification does not depend on us: we do not have the capacity on our own to change the evilness of our flesh. It is the power of the Holy Spirit within us that brings us life and leads us into the pursuit of righteousness. As the Scripture says, “There is nothing in us that allows us to claim that we are capable of doing this work. The capacity we have comes from God; it is He who made us capable of serving the new covenant, which consists not of a written law but of the Spirit.” (2 Corinthians 3:5-6). It is the Spirit of the Lord that transforms us into Christ’s likeness. We must let the Spirit control us, for it is the Spirit that saved us. We must all be good servants of Christ, for He bought us at the cost of his blood.

We have been redeemed by the blood of Christ for Christ, in order that we may be parts of his body, not because of anything good we have done. Christ has given us life. The Sovereign Lord says in Isaiah 43:25, “I am the God who forgives your sins, and I do this because of who I am. I will not hold your sins against you.” We were once spiritually dead because of our sins. “But God has now brought you to life with Christ. God has forgiven our sins; He cancelled the unfavourable record of our debts with its binding rules and did away with it completely by nailing it to the cross. And on that cross Christ freed Himself from the power of the spiritual rulers and authorities; He made a public spectacle of them by leading them as captives in his victory procession.” (Colossians 2:13-15). “As the one sin condemned all people, in the same way the righteous act sets all people free and gives life. And just as the mass of people were made sinners as the result of the disobedience of one man, in the same way the mass of people will all be put right with God as the result of the obedience of the One man.” (Romans 5:18-19).

We are justified by faith alone in Christ alone. Anyone who rejects the sacred blood of God’s covenant is under divine wrath. Wrath is God’s righteous response to human depravity, sin and rebellion against Him. Those who reject Christ and think that they are good enough to be right with God are in for a rude surprise. Christ is the only means to be justified before the Holy God. Those who reject or hinder this truth reject God’s grace that sets people free and gives them life, and all that is left for them is damnation. Anyone who rejects the Gospel is given over to their reprobate mind. This is plainly brought to everyone’s attention in Romans 1:18-32 – it is written: “God’s anger is revealed from heaven against the sin and evil of the people whose evil ways prevent the truth from being known. God punishes them, because what can be known about God is plain to them, for God Himself made it plain. Ever since God created the world, his invisible qualities, both his eternal power and his divine nature, have been clearly seen; they are perceived in the things that God has made. So those people have no excuse at all! They know God, but they do not give Him the honour that belongs to Him, nor do they thank Him. Instead, their thoughts have become complete nonsense, and their empty minds are filled with darkness. They say they are wise, but they are fools; instead of worshipping the immortal God, they worship images made to look like mortal human beings or birds or animals or reptiles. And so God has given those people over to the filthy things their hearts desire, and they do shameful things with each other. They exchange the truth about God for a lie; they worship and serve what God has created instead of the Creator Himself, who is to be praised for ever! Amen. Because they do this, God has given them over to shameful passions. Even the women pervert the natural use of their sex by unnatural acts. In the same way the men give up natural sexual relations with women and burn with passion for each other. Men do shameful things with each other, and as a result they bring upon themselves the punishment they deserve for their wrongdoing. Because those people refuse to keep in mind the true knowledge about God, He has given them over to corrupted minds, so that they do the things that they should not do. They are filled with all kinds of wickedness, evil, greed, and vice; they are full of jealousy, murder, fighting, deceit, and malice. They gossip and speak evil of one another; they are hateful to God, insolent, proud, and boastful; they think of more ways to do evil; they disobey their parents; they have no conscience; they do not keep their promises, and they show no kindness or pity for others. They know that God’s law says that people who live in this way deserve death. Yet, not only do they continue to do these very things, but they even approve of others who do them.”

God, the righteous God, condemns those who rebel against Him. He gives them over to their reprobate minds and they do what they are not supposed to do, and it this way they compound their punishment, making their pains even greater for the Day of Judgement. The picture presented in Romans 1 describes exactly what we see around the world today. Nations are under God’s judgement because many have rejected the truth to uphold lies. They have rejected Christ and his teaching and embraced human doctrines. Such have already been judged because they do not believe in God’s only Son. They remain slaves to sin and are condemned to face the second death. The Lord Jesus Christ is our righteousness, the Only Saviour. Salvation is found in Christ alone. He died so that everyone who believes in Him may live. He is the substitutionary atonement for our sins. And whoever believes in Him will not die; but those who rejects Him will be damned. Christ is the only means to be right with God, He is the only way to Heaven, the Life-giving Water. “No one can enter the Kingdom of God without being born of water and the Spirit.” (John 3:5). No one can inherit the Kingdom of God without being regenerated by the Spirit. The Spirit is Christ, the Spirit is life. Regeneration is a new birth and a new life in Christ. Only those who are in Christ can receive the new birth and eternal glory, thanks to the blood of the Lamb of God who paid their penalties. Those who reject Christ will die in their sins and go to hell, where they will spend eternity. The Lord redeems anyone who seeks Him, anyone who remembers how God wants us to live. He has atoned for our sins and He wants us to honour his Son, to have faith in Christ in order to be right with Him. And so everyone who believes in Christ is legally justified before God through their faith. But those who reject the Son of God continue to bear the guilt of their sins and will remain accountable for all eternity. John 3:18 says, “Those who believe in the Son are not judged; but those who do not believe have already been judged, because they have not believed in God’s only Son.” There is no other way people can be justified before God, Christ alone is the Saviour – we are saved by God’s grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone. “Salvation is to be found through Him alone; in all the world there is no one else whom God has given who can save us.” (Acts 4:12) The Lord says in John 12:48, “Those who reject Me and do not accept my message have one who will judge them. The words I have spoken will be their judge on the last day!”

As you read this message today, if you aren’t in the faith yet, if you are not committed to Christ, do not continue to reject the free gift of God’s grace, which is found in Christ alone. For Christ is the only means by which sinners are justified before God through their faith in Him. Christ suffered the curses that you should have suffered, in order to reconcile you to God’s grace. Recognize your need of Christ the Saviour. Do not harden your heart. Lay down your pride and believe onto Jesus, the righteousness of all who have faith in Him. Renounce to your self-righteousness and cling to Jesus. He died to save sinners not those who consider themselves righteous. You cannot escape God’s righteous wrath, you cannot escape eternity in hell unless you are clothed with the righteousness of the Son of God. Turn to Christ, confess your sins to Him and believe on Him. Christ laid down his own life to justify the wicked. He freely redeems those who recognize that they are sinners and turn to Him, the Saviour. Anyone who confesses Christ as Lord and has faith in Him is set free from the bondage of sin and death; they escape hell. Call upon the name of the Lord Jesus and He will impute his righteousness to you and you will appear blameless before God on the Day of Judgement. Anyone who rejects Christ rejects his share of this grace and therefore can never be right with God. All you have to do is to believe in Christ and confess Him as Lord and Saviour, for He is the atonement for all our sins. Do not close your heart to God’s redeeming grace. Turn to Christ and trade in your sins for his righteousness in order to be right with God. He was sent by God the Father into the world in order to redeem those who have faith in Him. He will return soon, but this time not to save the world, rather to judge it. And all those who are not in the faith will suffer divine wrath and spend eternity in hell – for there is no other way except through the blood of the Lamb to be right with God. God justifies people exclusively through their faith in Christ.

#the righteousness of God #be right with God #justification by faith #Christ is our righteousness #graciousheaven #be justified #justifcation through faith #free gift of God #to be right with Christ

[livingdeadinsideyourhead]

Free Music in a Capitalist Society - Iggy Pop's Keynote Speech Transcript

Hi, I'm Iggy Pop. I've held a steady job at BBC 6 Music now for almost a year, which is a long time in my game. I always hated radio and the jerks who pushed that shit music into my tender mind, with rare exceptions. When I was a boy, I used to sit for hours suffering through the entire US radio top 40 waiting for that one song by The Beatles and the other one by The Kinks. Had there been anything like John Peel available in my Midwestern town I would have been thrilled. So it's an honor to be here. I understand that. I appreciate it.

Some months ago when the idea of this talk came up I thought it might be okay to talk about free music in a Capitalist society. So that's what I'm gonna try to talk about. A society in which the Capitalist system dominates all the others, and seeks their destruction when they get in its way. Since then, the shit has really hit the fan on the subject, thanks to U2 and Apple. I worked half of my life for free. I didn't really think about that one way or the other, until the masters of the record industry kept complaining that I wasn't making them any money. To tell you the truth, when it comes to art, money is an unimportant detail. It just happens to be a huge one unimportant detail. But, a good LP is a being, it's not a product. It has a life-force, a personality, and a history, just like you and me. It can be your friend. Try explaining that to a weasel.

As I learned when I hit 30 +, and realized I was penniless, and almost unable to get my music released, music had become an industrial art and it was the people who excelled at the industry who got to make the art. I had to sell most of my future rights to keep making records to keep going. And now, thanks to digital advances, we have a very large industry, which is laughably maybe almost entirely pirate so nobody can collect shit. Well, it was to be expected. Everybody made a lot of money reselling all of recorded musical history in CD form back in the 90s, but now the cat is out of the bag and the new electronic devices which estrange people from their morals also make it easier to steal music than to pay for it. So there's gonna be a correction.

When I started The Stooges we were organized as a group of Utopian communists. All the money was held communally and we lived together while we shared the pursuit of a radical ideal. We shared all song writing, publishing and royalty credits equally – didn’t matter who wrote it - because we'd seen it on the back of a Doors album and thought it was cool, at least I did. Yeah. I thought songwriting was about the glory, I didn't know you'd get paid for it. We practiced a total immersion to try to forge a new approach which would be something of our own. Something of lasting value. Something that was going to be revealed and created and was not yet known.

We are now in the age of the schemer and the plan is always big, big, big, but it's the nature of the technology created in the service of the various schemes that the pond, while wide, is very shallow. Nobody cares about anything too deeply expect money. Running out of it, getting it. I never sincerely wanted to be rich. There is a, in the US, we have this guy “Do you sincerely wanna be rich? You can do it!” I didn’t sincerely want to be rich. I never sincerely felt like making anyone else that way. That made me a kind of a wild card in the 60's and 70's. I got into the game because it felt good to play and it felt like being free. I'm still hearing today about how my early works with The Stooges were flops. But they're still in print and they sell 45 years later, they sell. Okay, it took 20 or 25 years for the first royalties to roll in. So sue me.

Some of us who couldn't get anywhere for years kept beating our heads against the same wall to no avail. No one did that better than my friends The Ramones. They kept putting out album after album, frustrated that they weren't getting the hit. They even tried Phil Spector and his handgun. After the first couple of records, which made a big impact, they couldn't sustain the quality, but I noticed that every album had at least one great song and I thought, wow if these guys would just stop and give it a rest, society would for sure catch up to them. And that's what's happening now, but they're not around to enjoy it. I used to run into Johnny at a little rehearsal joint in New York and he'd be in a big room all alone with a Marshall stack just going "dum, dum, dum, dum, dum" all my himself. I asked him why and he said if he didn't practice doing that exactly the way he did it live he'd lose it. He was devoted and obsessive, so were Joey and Deedee. I like that. Johnny asked me one day - Iggy don't you hate Offspring and the way they're so popular with that crap they play. That should be us, they stole it from us. I told him look, some guys are born and raised to be the captain of the football team and some guys are just gonna be James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause and that's the way it is. Not everybody is meant to be big. Not everybody big is any good.

I only ever wanted the money because it was symbolic of love and the best thing I ever did was to make a lifetime commitment to continue playing music no matter what, which is what I resolved to do at the age of 18. If who you are is who you are that is really hard to steal, and it can lead you in all sorts of useful directions when the road ahead of you is blocked and it will get blocked. Now I'm older and I need all the dough I can get. So I too am concerned about losing those lovely royalties, now that they've finally arrived, in the maze of the Internet. But I'm also diversifying my income, because a stream will dry up. I'm not here to complain about that, I'm here to survive it.

When I was starting out as a full time musician I was walking down the street one bright afternoon in the seedier part of my Midwestern college town. I passed a dive bar and from it emerged a portly balding pallid middle aged musician in a white tux with a drink in one hand and a guitar in the other. He was blinking in the daylight. I had a strong intuition that this was a fate to be avoided. He seemed cut off from society and resigned to an oblivious obscurity. A bar fly. An accessory to booze. So how do you engage society as an artist and get them to pay you? Well, that's a matter of art. And endurance.

To start with, I cannot stress enough the importance of study. I was lucky to work in a discount record store in Ann Arbor Michigan as a stock boy where I was exposed to a little bit of every form of music imaginable on record at the time. I listened to it all whether I liked it or not. Be curious. And I played in my high school orchestra and I learned the joy of the warm organic instruments working together in the service of a classical piece. That sticks with you forever. If anyone out there can get a chance to put an instrument and some knowledge in some kids hand, you've done a great, great thing.

Comparative information is a key to freedom. I found other people who were smarter than me. To teach me. My first pro band was a blues band called The Prime Movers and the leader Michael Erlewine was a very bright hippy beatnik with a beautifully organized record collection in library form of The Blues. I'd never really heard the Blues. That part of our American heritage was kept off the major media. It was system up, people down. No Big Bill Broonzy on BBC for us. Boy I wish! No money in it. But everything I learned from Michael's beautiful library became the building blocks for anything good I've done since. Guys like this are priceless. If you find one, follow him, or her. Get the knowledge.

Once in secondary school in the 60's some class clowns dressed up the tallest guy in school in a trench coat, shades and a fedora and rushed him in to a school dance with great hubbub proclaiming "Del Shannon is here, Del Shannon is here." And until they got to the stage we all believed them, because nobody knew what Del Shannon looked like. He was just a voice on some great records. He had no social ID. By the early 60's that had really changed with the invasion of The Beatles and The Stones. This time TV was added to the mix and print media too. So you knew who they were, or so you thought anyway. I'm mentioning this because the best way to survive the death or change of an industry is to transcend its form. You're better off with an identity of your own or maybe a few of them. Something special.

It is my own personal view having lived through it that in America The Beatles replaced our assassinated president Kennedy, who represented our hopes for a certain kind of society. Didn’t get there. And The Stones replaced our assassinated folk music which our own leaders suppressed for cultural, racial, and financial reasons. It wasn't okay with everybody to be Kennedy or Muddy Waters, but those messages could be accepted if they came through white entertainers from the parent culture. That's why they’re still around.

Years later I had the impression that Apple, the corporation, had successfully co-opted the good feelings that the average American felt about the culture of the Beatles, by kind of stealing the name of their company so I bought a little stock. Good move. 1992. Woo! But look, everybody is subject to the rip off and has to change affiliations from time to time. Even Superman and Barbie were German before America tempted them to come over. Tough luck, Nietzche.

So who owns what anyway. Or as Bob Dylan said "The relationships of ownership." That’s gates of Eden. Nobody knows for long, especially these days. Apparently when BBC radio was founded, the record companies in England wouldn't allow the BBC to play their master recordings because they thought no one would buy them for their personal use if they could hear them free on the radio. So they were really confused about what they had. They didn’t get it. And how people feel about music. ‘Cause it’s a feel thing, and it resists logic. It’s not binary code. Later when CD's came in, the retail merchants in American all panicked because they were just too damn tiny and they thought that Americans want something that looks big, like a vinyl record. Well they had a point but their solution was a kind of Frankenstein called "The Long Box." It didn't fool anybody because half of it was empty. It had a little CD in the bottom. You’d open it up and it was empty. Now we have people in the Sahara using GPS to bury huge wads of Euros under sand dunes for safe keeping. But GPS was created for military spying from the high ground, not radical banking so any sophisticated system, along with the bounty it brings, is subject to primitive hijacking.

I wanna talk about a type of entrepreneur who functions as a kind of popular music patron of the arts. It’s good to know a patron. I call him El Padron because his relationship to the artist is essentially feudal, though benign. He or she (La Padrona) if you will, is someone, usually the product of successful, enlightened parents, who owns a record company, but has had benefit of a very good education, and can see a bigger picture than a petty business person. If they like an artists’ style and it suits them, they'll support you even if you’re not a big money spinner. I can tell you, some of these powerful guys get so bored that if you are fun in the office, you’ll go places. Their ancestors, the old time record crooks just made it their business to make great, great records, but also to rip off the artist 100%, copyright, publishing, royalty splits, agency fees, you name it. If anyone complained the line was "Pay you? We worship you!" God bless Bo Diddley.

By the time I came along, there was a new brand of Padron. People like this are still around and some can help you. One was named Jack Holzman. Jack had a beautiful label called Elektra Records, they put out Judy Collins, Tim Buckley, the Doors and Love. He'd started working in his family record store, like Brian Epstein. He dressed mod and he treated us very gently. He was a civilized man. He obviously loved the arts, but what he really wanted to do was build his business - and he did. He had his own concerns, and style, and you had to serve them, and of course when he sold out, as all indies do, you were stranded culturally in the hands of a cold clumsy conglomerate. But he put us in the right studios with the right producers and he tried to get us seen in the right venues and it really helped. This is a good example of the industry.

Another good guy I met is Sir Richard Branson. I ended up serving my full term at Virgin Records having been removed from every other label. And he created a superior culture there. People were happier and nicer than the weasels at some other places. The first time he tried to sign me it didn't work out, because I had my sights set on A&M, a company I thought would help make me respectable. After all they had Sting! Richard was secretly starting his own company at the time in the US and he phoned me in my tiny flat with no furniture. He said he'd give me a longer term deal with more dough than the other guys and he was very, very polite and soft spoken. But I had just smoked a joint that day and I couldn't make a decision. So I went with the other guys who soon got sick of me. Virgin picked me up again later on the rebound. And on the cheap. Damn. My own fault.

Another kind of indie legend who is slightly more contemporary is Long Gone John of the label Sympathy for the Record Industry. Good name. John is famous with some artists for his disinterest in paying royalties. He has a very interesting music themed folk art collection – its visible online - which includes my leather jacket. I wish he'd give it back. There are lots of indie people with a gift for organization who just kind of collect freaks and throw them up at the wall to see who sticks. You gotta watch 'em.

When you go a step down creatively from the Padrons who are actually entrepreneurs you get to the executives. You don't wanna know these guys. They usually came over from legal or accounting. They have protégés usually called A&R men to do their dirty work. You can become a favorite with them if your fame or image might reflect limelight on their career. They tend to have no personalities to speak of, which is their strength. Strangely they're never really thinking about the good of their parent company as much as old number one. Avoid them. If you’re an artist, they’ll make you sick or suicidal. The only good thing the conglomerate can do for you – and they’ve done it recently for me - is make you really, really ubiquitous. They do that well. But, when the company is your banker, then you are basically gonna be the Beverly Hill Billies. So it's best not to take their money. Especially when you’re young. These are very tough people, and they can hurt you.

So who are the good guys?! They asked me when they read this thing at BBC 6 Music. Well there are lots of them. If fact, today there are more than ever and they are just about all indies, but first I want to mention Peter Gabriel and WOMAD for everything they've done for what seems like forever to help the greatest musicians in the world, the so called world musicians to gain a foothold and make a living in the modern screwed up cash and carry world. Traditional music was never a for profit enterprise, all the best forms were developed as a kind of you’re job in the community. It was pretty good, it was “Yeah, I’m a musician, I’m gonna skip like doing the dishes or taking the trash out.” It's not surprising that all the greatest singers and players come from parts of the world where everybody is broke and the old ways are getting paved over. So it's crucial for everyone that these treasures not be lost. There are other people of means and intelligence who help others in this way like Philip Glass through Tibet House, David Burn with Luaka Bop, Damon Albarn through Honest John Records. Shout out to Hypnotic Brass Ensemble. Almost all the best music is coming out on indies today like XL Matador, Burger, Anti, Epitaph, Mute, Rough Trade, 4 A D, Sub Pop, etc. etc.

But now YouTube is trying to put the squeeze on these people because it's just easier for a power nerd to negotiate with a couple big labels who own the kind of music that people listen to when they're really not that into music, which of course is most people. So they've got the numbers. But the indies kind of have the guns. I've noticed that indies are showing strength at some of the established streaming services like Spotify and Rhapsody – people are choosing that music. And it's also great that some people are starting their own outlets, like Pledge Music, Band Camp or Drip. As the commercial trade swings more into general show biz the indies will be the only place to go for new talent, outside the Mickey Mouse Club, so I think they were right to band together and sign the Fair Digital Deals Declaration.

There are just so many ways to screw an artist that it's unbelievable. In the old vinyl days they would deduct 10% "breakage fees" for records supposedly broken in shipping, whether that happened or not, and now they have unattributed digital revenue, whatever the **** that means. It means money for some guy’s triple bypass. I actually think that what Thom Yorke has done with Bit Torrent is very good. I was gonna say here: “Sure the guy is a pirate at Bit Torrent” but I was warned legally, so I’ll say: “Sure the guy a Bit Torrent is a pirate’s friend” But all pirates want to go legit, just like I wanted to be respectable. It’s normal. After a while people feel like you’re a crook, it’s too hard to do business. So it’s good in this case that Thom Yorke is encouraging a positive change. The music is good. It’s being offered at a low price direct to people who care.

I want to try to define what I am talking about when I say free. For me in the arts or in the media, there are two kinds of free. One kind of free is when the process is something that people just feel for you. You feel a sense of possibility. You feel a lack of constraint. This leads to powerful, energetic, sometimes kind of loony situations.

Vice Media is an interesting case of this because they started as a free handout, using public funds, and they had open, free-wheeling minds. Originally a free handout was called Voice and these kids were like “Just get rid of the old! I don’t wanna be Vice, yeah!” Okay. By taking an immersive approach with no particular preconceptions to their reporting, they've become a huge success, also through corporate advertising, at attracting big, big money investment hundreds of millions of dollars now pumped into Fox Media and a couple of others bigger than that in the US. And they get it because they attract lots of little boy eyeballs. So they brought us Dennis Rodman in North Korea. And it’s kind of a travesty, but it’s kind of spunky. It's interesting that capital investment, for all its posturing, never really leads, it always follows. They follow the action. So if it's money you're after, be the yourself in a consistent way and you might get it. You’ll at least end up getting what you are worth and feel better. Just follow your nose.

The second kind of freedom to me that is important in the media is the idea of giving freely. When you feel or sense that someone that someone is giving you something not out of profit, but out of self-respect, Christian charity, whatever it is. That has a very powerful energy. The Guardian, in my understanding, was founded by an endowment by a successful man with a social conscience who wanted to help create a voice for what I would call the little guy. So they have a kind of moral mission or imperative. This has given them the latitude to try to be interesting, thoughtful, helpful. And they bring Edward Snowden to the world stage. Something that is not pleasant for a lot of people to hear about, but we need to know.

These two approaches couldn't be more different. To justify their new mega bucks Vice will have to expand and expand in capital terms. Presumably they'll have to titillate a dumb, but energetic audience. Of course all capitalist expansions are subject to the big bang – balloon, bust, poof, and you’re gone. As for the Guardian I would imagine that the task involves gaining the trust and support of a more discerning, less definable reader, without spending the principal. There is usually an antipathy between cultural poles, but these two actually have a lot in common in terms of the energy and nuisance to power that they are willing to generate. I wish red and blue could come together somehow.

Sometimes I'd rather read than listen to music. One of my favourite odd books is Bootleg: The Secret History of the Other Recording Industry by Clinton Heylin. I bought the book in the 90's because a couple of my bootlegs were mentioned. I loved my bootlegs. They did a lot for me. I never really thought about the dough much. I liked the titles, like Suck on This, Stow Away DOA or Metalic KO. The packaging was always way more creative and edgy than most of my official stuff. So I just liked being seen and heard, like anybody else. These bootleggers were creative. Here are two quotes from the dust jacket by veteran industry stalwarts on the subject of bootlegs in 1994.

"Bootleg is the thoroughly researched and highly entertaining tale of those colorful brigands, hapless amateurs, and true believers who have done wonders for my record collection. Rock and roll doesn't get more underground than this." – that was David Fricke, the music editor of Rolling Stone "I think that bootlegs keep the flame of the music alive by keeping it out of not only the industry's conception of the artist, but also the artist's conception of the artist." – that was Lenny Kaye from the Patti Smith group, musician, critic and my friend.

Wow!! Sounds heroic and vital!

I wonder what these guys feel about all of this now, because things have changed, haven't they? We are now talking about Megaupload, Kim Dot Com, big money, political power, and varying definitions of theft that are legally way over my head. But I know a con man when I see one. I want to include a rant from an early bootlegger in this discussion because it's so passionate and I just think it's funny.

This is Lou Cohan "If anybody thinks that if I have purchased every single Rolling Stones album in existence, and I have bought all the Rolling Stones albums that have been released in England, France, Japan, Italy, and Brazil that if I have an extra $100 in my pocket instead of buying a Rolling Stones bootleg I am going to buy a John Denver album or a Sinead O'Conner album, they are retarded."

So the guy is trying to say don't try to force me. And don't steal my choice. And the people who don't want the free U2 download are trying to say, don't try to force me. And they've got a point. Part of the process when you buy something from an artist. It’s a kind of anointing, you are giving people love. It’s your choice to give or withhold. You are giving a lot of yourself, besides the money. But in this particular case, without the convention, maybe some people felt like they were robbed of that chance and they have a point. It’s not the only point. These are not bad guys. But now, everybody's a bootlegger, but not as cute, and there are people out there just stealing the stuff and saying don't try to force me to pay. And that act of thieving will become a habit and that’s bad for everything. So we are exchanging the corporate rip off for the public one. Aided by power nerds. Kind of computer Putins. They just wanna get rich and powerful. And now the biggest bands are charging insane ticket prices or giving away music before it can flop, in an effort to stay huge. And there's something in this huge thing that kind of sucks.

Which brings us to Punk. The most punk thing I ever saw in my life was Malcolm McLaren's cardboard box full of dirty old winkle pinkers. It was the first thing I saw walking in the door of Let It Rock in 1972 which was his shop at Worlds End on the Kings Road. It was a huge ugly cardboard bin full of mismatched unpolished dried out winkle pickers without laces at some crazy price like maybe five pounds each. Another 200 yards up the street was Granny Takes a Trip, where they sold proper Rockstar clothes like scarves, velvet jackets, and snake skin platform boy boots. Malcolm's obviously worthless box of shit was like a fire bomb against the status quo because it was saying that these violent shoes have the right idea and they are worth more than your fashion, which serves a false value. This is right out of the French enlightenment.

So is the thieving that big a deal? Ethically, yes, and it destroys people because it's a bad road you take. But I don't think that's the biggest problem for the music biz. I think people are just a little bit bored, and more than a little bit broke. No money. Especially simple working people who have been totally left out, screwed and abandoned. If I had to depend on what I actually get from sales I’d be tending bars between sets. I mean honestly it’s become a patronage system. There’s a lot of corps involved and I don’t fault any of them but it’s not as much fun as playing at the Music Machine in Camden Town in 1977. There is a general atmosphere of resentment, pressure, kind of strange perpetual war, dripping on all the time. And I think that prosecuting some college kid because she shared a file is a lot like sending somebody to Australia 200 years ago for poaching his lordship's rabbit. That's how it must seem to poor people who just want to watch a crappy movie for free after they’ve been working themselves to death all day at Tesco or whatever, you know.

If I wanna make music, at this point in my life I'd rather do what I want, and do it for free, which I do, or cheap, if I can afford to. I can. And fund through alternative means, like a film budget, or a fashion website, both of which I've done. Those seem to be turning out better for me than the official rock n roll company albums I struggle through. Sorry. If I wanna make money, well how about selling car insurance? At least I'm honest. It's an ad and that's all it is. Every free media platform I've ever known has been a front for advertising or propaganda or both. And it always colors the content. In other words, you hear crap on the commercial radio. The licensing of music by films, corps, and TV has become a flood, because these people know they're not a hell of a lot of fun so they throw in some music that is. I'm all for that, because that's the way the door opened for me. I got heard on tv before radio would take a chance. But then I was ok. Good. And others too. I notice there are a lot of people, younger and younger, getting their exposure that way. But it's a personal choice. I think it’s an aesthetic one, not an ethical one.

Now with the Internet people can choose to hear stuff and investigate it in their own way. If they want to see me jump around the Manchester Apollo with a horse tail instead of trying to be a proper Rockstar, they can look. Good. Personally I don't worry too much about how much I get paid for any given thing, because I never expected much in the first place and the whole industry has become bloated in its expectations. Look, Howling Wolf would work for a sandwich. This whole thing started in Honky Tonk bars. It's more important to do something important or just make people feel something and then just trust in God. If you're an entertainer your God is the public. They'll take care of you somehow. I want them to hear my music any old which way. Period. There is an unseen hand that turns the pages of existence in ways no one can predict. But while you’re waiting for God to show up and try to find a good entertainment lawyer.

It's good to remember that this is a dream job, whether you're performing or working in broadcasting, or writing or the biz. So dream. Dream. Be generous, don’t be stingy. Please. I can't help but note that it always seems to be the pursuit of the money that coincides with the great art, but not its arrival. It's just kind of a death agent. It kills everything that fails to reflect its own image, so your home turns into money, your friends turn into money, and your music turns into money. No fun, binary code – zero one, zero one - no risk, no nothing. What you gotta do you gotta do, life's a hurly-burly, so I would say try hard to diversify your skills and interests. Stay away from drugs and talent judges. Get organized. Big or little, that helps a lot.

I'd like you to do better than I did. Keep your dreams out of the stinky business, or you'll go crazy, and the money won't help you. Be careful to maintain a spiritual EXIT. Don't live by this game because it's not worth dying for. Hang onto your hopes. You know what they are. They’re private. Because that's who you really are and if you can hang around long enough you should get paid. I hope it makes you happy. It's the ending that counts, and the best things in life really are free.

#iggy pop #idk if anyone posted it here already #I'm just too lazy to look up so #here it is!