#they just changed the chemical makeup of an entire generation then fucked off

[creativeashproductions]

When Fate Intervenes // Luke Patterson

IN WHICH: Fate intervenes with a trio of musicians on the night that was supposed to be legendary. Fate puts the reader with a special ability that may or may not be able to save them. Fate puts a clairvoyant, an accidentally upsized pizza and thirteen year old oddly obsessed with a rock band.

Warnings: Swearing, food poison, death, and fluff

Words: 2.8k

A/N: Time to get rid of some fic ideas from my TOO LONG of a list. It’s Julie fault, she keeps encouraging each fic idea I tell her.

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Masterlist

The Orpheum, 1995

The line up comprised of countless girls wearing homemade band shirts for the new band performing. Your little sister, at thirteen years old, had pleaded for weeks if not three months to go watch it. It was odd since she was more in the pop scene than the rock music. Your parents would never let her go to the rock show at night, so it was you or no show. It took a promise of doing your chores for an entire month and her dessert for two months. That was why you stood beside Harper among the fangirls while you clicked through the camera you’d saved up for years.

“I’m so excited.” Harper buzzed dancing on your feet as the time on her watch dwindled down more and more.

Your eyes flitted from the screen to the ball of energy you called your little sister, “I can tell. Which one do you have a crush on?”

“Reggie. He’s the bassist and so fucking-sorry freaking cool.” Harper gushed, “A good portion of the fans are obsessed with the lead singer Luke. Bobby is the rhythm guitarist, and he’s a ladies man, but he’s sweet about it.”

“And you’d know that how?” You questioned letting go of the camera around your neck. Your e/c eyes meeting her matching pair of irises; well yours were a bit more vibrant.

“I just know.” Harper retorted before beaming as she roughly poked the pin she’d made herself, “This represents all of them. Red for Reggie’s plaid shirt he always has, orange for Bobby’s love of oranges, yellow for Luke’s energy and pink for Alex because he loves the colour!”

The pin had their band design with Sunset Curve on it with the words outlined with a sunset made up of red, orange, yellow and pink just as Harper had pointed out. By far, it was her best work, but that was expected from an art student at Los Feliz High School. An art school for artists and performers. You attended for photography and creative writing just as Harper attended for art.

“That might be your best work Harps.” You complimented your little sister who shivered in the cool night breeze. You didn’t even think about tugging off your warm jacket to place on her shoulders.

You’d rather be cold than your little sister no matter how much you fought with each other, the Y/L/N siblings had each other’s backs no matter what.

“Thanks.” Harper murmured, leaning closer, “So do I meet Reggie?”

Your eyes widened slightly at her subtle goading to a part of your life was cinematic. It was a piece of you that very few people knew about, only your parents and Harper. Like most of the women in your paternal lineage, you carried the ability to foresee events in the future. A clairvoyant.

“Harper!” You scolded the young teenager who blatantly was just over-excited to see the band she’d been talking about constantly.

Harper’s cheeks turned a cherry blossom pink under the crappy lighting from the marquee sign. Even in the light, you noticed the changes in her face as she matured into a young woman, her cheeks while still full didn’t have that baby cheek look now. You saw a stubborn zit that you could see under the makeup that didn’t entirely match her skin tone. It caused an ache in your heart to know that soon she’d have the experience of heartbreak.

“Sorry!”

“You told me these guys are my age. Need I remind you that you are thirteen? If anyone older than thirteen makes an advance I’ll put my softball skills to the test.” You sternly informed the shorter girl with the pout that screamed rebellion, “Just be a kid Harps.”

“Like you said Y/N, I’m thirteen. I’m not a kid anymore.” Harper dropped the attitude to adopt a more mature soft tone. You could see the tinge of sadness in her eyes at losing the part of life where it was easy.

“I know. I can wish you’ll stay that annoying little kindergartener that stole my clothing.” You chuckled, “You’ll always be the Stephanie to my DJ.”

The two Y/L/N siblings momentarily glanced around before hugging as quickly as possible, they still had reputations to uphold. Had you been actually paying attention, you and Harper would have noticed the commotion from the people behind you.

As you and Harper had the sweet moment, the very band performing had raced out the alley into the street. What brought you back to the surroundings was the pizza boy delivering the pizza box to you. 

“Wait, we ordered a small!” You exclaimed finding the boy holding an extra-large pizza. You only received a shrug in response with the right change given back. 

Two things happened with this food mistake, you didn’t have to pay more than what you actually ordered, and you still got the larger pizza. However, the Orpheum didn’t allow outside food, meaning you’d have to force-feed yourself all the pizza or trash more than half. 

“We could shar-” Harper was cut off as a blinding white light became your focal point. Harper knew what was happening by the specific groan coming from your lips.

A nauseating scent of cheap meat, gas and chemicals flooded your sense of smell in the dingy alleyway. It was nighttime with a few people in the general vicinity with a dilapidated table and mismatched chairs on the walls’ edge. A poorly made sign with Sam & Ella’s and going by the vendor selling the hot dogs the name fit. Sam & Ella sounded like salmonella.

From a distance, you couldn’t quite hear the conversation between three male teens, but you had a bad feeling. They all migrated to a ratty couch that had been better days, a rat wouldn’t even crawl on it you swore.

The first boy had slicked back hair with rosy cheeks you dubbed innocent and cute that juxtapositioned his rocker attire. He had polished black leather shoes, pleather if his choice of food was an indication, a leather jacket and a red plaid shirt around his waist. His attention focused on the two guys beside him. In the middle, the boy had the blue hood of his sweater pulled over his messy brown hair as if hiding. Nothing stood out about him, and it seemed like that was intentional. On the other side, the last one was the tallest with his blonde hair hidden by the backwards black hat. A distressed dark grey jean jacket open to proudly display his pink hoodie. Each one wearing black pants and adorning rings.

“This is awesome, you guys. We’re playing the Orpheum!” The middle boy joyfully spoke head in the clouds instead of the questionable surroundings. He arguably had the loveliest smile you had ever seen, and his friends had nice smiles at that as well.

Yet even if this hadn’t taken place, however, it still felt like you were intruding on something incredibly private, “Why am I being shown this?”

Your question went unsurprisingly unanswered.

“I can’t even count how many bands have played here! And then ended up being huge!” He happily sunk into the back of the couch, thinking of all the bands he had CDs to in his room, “We’re gonna be legends!”

“Oh.” You breathed as you caught a whiff from the boys that quickly gave you the understanding of why you saw this. You could only smell what you had dubbed as death, the scent unchanging from the first time you’d encountered it.

The death stench accompanied a clairvoyant vision if the object of your vision was sick or about to die. The first time you encountered, it was a vision of two cars colliding, the sound of shattering glass and crunching metal, the scent of burning flesh overpowering the milder stench. The next morning school was cancelled after a teacher died in a car accident on the way to work.

“Eat up, boys. ’Cause after tonight, everything changes.” The only vocal one continued with his two friends silently listening. The trio toasted their food together.

“No!” You exclaimed as each boy took a bite. You held your breath, hoping that the inevitable in the vision wouldn’t occur.

Unfortunately, it was right away the warning appeared. The blonde one the most affected, “That’s a new flavour.”

“Chill, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” The leather jacket guy proudly spoke, the least one concerned. 

Even the guy in the middle was concerned but ultimately continued eating.

“Stop it!” You shouted, but it was no use. As with every vision, you had the potential to stop it from coming true, but while in the vision, you couldn’t interact with the people or surrounding. No matter how much you wanted to slam the food out of their hands.

But one thing sends shivers down your spine. The one in the middle made direct eye contact with you. Something that had never happened before nor to any previous clairvoyants. He kept eye contact as he slowly grew sicker and sicker.

The three boys had no chance as the ambulance rushed to the alleyway to save them. The paramedics weren’t as quick as the vendors who’d already packed and fled to protect their own hides.

You watched as the paramedics did everything in their power to save the young teenagers with everything possible. Just like Luke sang in their last song, the boys felt the darker version of an electric hammer to the heart. The clocks freezing in place as they each took their last breathe in the oddest of deaths. You saw the blonde guy die painfully first before followed by the formerly hooded one, the terrified cries of the last one haunting your phantom ears.

How did three healthy teenagers die on the same night of the exact nature within minutes of each other without one surviving? Maybe it had something to do with the hot dogs chilling in the liquid that was a cesspool of bacteria compounded with tained condiments from battery acid.

You roughly came out of the vision shaking and pale-faced frantically scanning the surroundings. Harper had a grip on the extra large pizza box while the other tightly held yours to ground you in the present.

“Are you okay?” Harper softly questioned with the panic hidden inside her body. Harper knew that this vision had been one of the bad ones. The haunted look in your eyes hinting towards death in the near future.

“We need to go.” You frantically replied, grabbing the pizza that would hopefully have a hand in saving three hopeful teens.

Your gym teacher would be proud of the distance diminished and speed you kept towards the area that would further shatter you. Foreseeing death and sometimes unable to stop it always had a nasty impact on you. 

“Where are we going?” Harper yelled, “We’ll miss the doors opening!”

“We’ll miss them if we don’t hurry up!” You shouted back at the disgruntled little sister but at the moment that didn’t matter. 

What mattered was three hungry teenagers about to gorge themselves on death dogs if you didn’t make it in time. It appeared for the first time you’d actually manage to stop the deaths, unlike the previous three times. 

“-tonight. Everything changes.” The chill-inducing rasp helped navigate you to the disgusting couch. Your cold hand slammed the hotdog from the blonde’s hand, the shocked reaction halting the other two.

“Don’t...eat...it.” You heaved bending over at the waist to catch your breath. Wheezing sounded from your little sister as the running and seeing her favourite band up close settled.

“Excuse me! I paid for that hotdog!”

“You’d be buying yourself death literally. Your dreams of playing the Orpheum would be extinct.” You sighed, chugging the water from the pocket of Harper’s backpack for a few seconds before the owner took it back.

“Okay, look I don’t know how you found us but-”

“You don’t have to believe me ’cause I sure as hell wouldn’t have but don’t jeopardize your dreams. Look my little sister wanted to see your show so I brought her and we ordered a pizza. They fucked up the order by giving us an extra-large pizza. We’ll barely eat a quarter of it, and the venue is strict on the rules.” You rambled using tour hands to elaborate the story before Harper roughly elbowed your ribs, “Ow!”

“Oops.” Harper faked a sugar-sweet smile for your benefit as the interaction with the three musicians slowly dove into embarrassment.

“-sorry. You’d be doing us a favour by not wasting our money and food. What do you say?” You hesitantly asked the trio who didn’t speak vocally; their eyes meeting in a silent conversation.

Reggie sighed as he begrudgingly dropped his hotdog in the bin near the couch, “Pizza outranks street dogs even if the dogs are heaven and to die for.”

“Literally.” You grumbled forcefully pushing the obscenely large pizza box into the middle one’s stomach, “I’m Y/N, this is my little sister Harper.”

“Hi.” Harper shyly waved with cheeks turning a dust pink concealed by the dark of the alleyway. The boys’ lips all quirked at the sudden contrast from the confident sister slamming her elbow in you to the bashful teen.

“I’m Luke. This is Reggie and Alex.” The hooded one, Luke, introduced his bandmates as best he could with his hands occupied by the pizza box.

Without the threat of death by the hot dog, you actually took the time to look at Luke with appraising eyes. His eyes were like oceans of blues, greens and even a brown that both exhilarated you; the desire of studying them not surprising. His smile outshone the sun on the hottest day in August.

“Nice to meet you.” You informed the trio with a beaming smile that matched your starstruck little sister. The interaction gave you the opportunity for immense and untiring future teasing on the teen that daydreamed of the bassist. 

You had to admit the trio were incredibly attractive.

“Come back to the dressing room. We can eat there out of the cold.” Alex courteously invited the two formerly strangers. His blues sharing his pure intentions to repay you for saving their lives and offering pizza. 

“Of course.” Harper nodded her head with her eyes barely meeting the ones of the boys. The shell was broken when Reggie piped up.

“That’s a really cool pin! Where’d you find it?”

Gated Community, Los Angeles, 2002

An off-tune humming filled the modestly sized home in the suburbs of Los Angeles, California with the sound of water splashing. Doing the dishes was a mindless chore that typically didn’t bother you, but the pain in your lower back protested. You’d have used the dishwasher, but the thing was perpetually breaking down. Didn’t seen essential to replace when washing dishes by hand was just as productive.

Or it was when you didn’t have the extra weight in your midsection, a symbol of your love with your husband. In fact, you would have avoided doing dishes if you hadn’t just used the last clean plate and glass at breakfast plus Luke hadn’t been home in the previous week.

Sunset Curve had gone on a press tour for the upcoming album and tour planned for next year.

“Oof.” You moaned as the little rascal once more hit your bladder, “Are you breaking electric guitars in there?”

“Not a soccer player?”

“With you as their father? Not likely.” You snorted as the sudden appearance of Luke became clear. You hadn’t been expecting him, “I missed you. We missed you.”

As had it since you first told him Luke’s warm hand came to rest on the front of your swollen belly. In a short month, you’d be cradling the newest member of the Patterson family with Luke singing the lullaby he solely made for baby P.

“Still haven’t given in?” The lead guitarist teased you with a beaming smile splitting his face, “Go sit down. I’ll finish the dishes.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice. 

“I’m not abusing my clairvoyance to foresee our child’s gender, name and appearance.” You pointed one finger in his direction, “I refused Bobby’s pleading to see which models he would bed. The only time I did something like that was to reassure Alex that he would fall in love with a lovely guy.”

Luke’s heart burst with sheer adoration at how easily you had sunk into the friendship with the band after that one night. A night that had given birth to a friendship that slowly evolved into a romance and marriage. To this day, the group got together as much as possible.

“I love you.” Luke chuckled, “Even-”

“-if I came into your life like a completely crazy person?”

“We’re all a little crazy.”

Your house surely would be when a little tornado with Luke’s energy took over the home you’d made with Luke. The very home you would have more children and grow old together until soon you held your grandkids on your laps.

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#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms imagines #luke patterson x y/n #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #charlie gillespie imagines #sunset curve #jatp luke #jatp fanfic #luke jatp #caitsy and ash productions

[hrodvitnon]

Post-Abraxas timeline GvK scenario - Continuity and thoughts

Continuing from my review of ‘Abraxas’ new chapter on FF .net; I thought I’d just contribute some thoughts I’ve had about how 'Abraxas’ would affect events, mythos and continuity (ways in which Abraxasverse has already deviated and diverged from Monsterverse’s post-KOTM canon and how that would impact on GvK, that sort of thing), if the GvK crisis DOES occur in some form or another canonically in Abraxasverse. Sorry it’s late, it took a lot longer to write this than I thought it would. ^^’)

This post by me is for making pointers for consideration about diverges from Monsterverse canon that the main 'Abraxas’ story has already made and how they’ll impact if a GvK scenario occurred in Abraxasverse, though I’ll also take this opportunity to share some of my own thoughts and ideas about it beyond that. :)

So, down to it:

—-

(1) Where/How/Would a Ghidorah skull come in in regards to Mechagodzilla? It’s been established in 'Abraxas’ that Abraxasverse Ghidorah’s severed heads will fight off necrosis with their healing factor and will just slowly regrow the rest of Ghidorah; that severed heads can suck the power out of any electrical systems they come in contact with to feed themselves; and that humans being too close to Ghidorah heads’ telepathy for too long is a bit like mixing lead poisoning with an over-winter stay in the Overlook even if you don’t actually sit in the head’s skull. All three of which are divergent to the implications of the Ghidorah-skull in GvK. Maybe there’s adaptation deviation in the Abraxasverse GvK scenario, where Apex use the Children of Zmei instead of a Ghidorah skull to pilot Mechagodzilla and it’s them that makes the Mecha become a sentient psychopath?

(1.5) This is just my thoughts and ideas: if it’s still a Ghidorah skull piloting MechaG instead of some of the Children of Zmei: maybe in the four years after 'Abraxas’, Ghidorah comes back again and is killed again and the skull comes from this most recent defeat, with Apex using a chemical to suppress the skull’s healing factor and assuming that was enough for them to control the evil triple-mind inside the bone. (Although after how big and dramatic that climax chapter was, I like to think that Ghidorah is now either gone for good or it’ll be a very long time, as in at least a decade in-universe, before Ghidorah ever resurges directly.) Or, maybe there’s a creepier origin story for Apex’s Ghidorah skull: Apex unearthed the skull in a dig which reveals it to be thousands of years old, and when Monarch find out after everything, they’re puzzled about why a decapitated Ghidorah head just decomposed and became a semi-sentient hunk of bone, instead of regrowing the rest of Ghidorah like San’s old head did or re-attaching itself to other severed pieces to speed up Ghidorah’s resurrection from a pre-Antarctica ancient battle. Godzilla doesn’t know anything about the skull, and neither does San. What’s creepier, Monarch’s analysis of Apex’s Ghidorah skull indicates that while the skull’s structure is the same, its DNA actually isn’t entirely identical to Ghidorah’s, as if the skull encountered something which changed its genetic makeup. A thought occurs to Viv 'n’ San: San’s decapitation at Isla de Mara probably wasn’t the first time a shed skin got split off from Ghidorah, in fact San remembers that when there was more than one shed skin each time Ghidorah died in the past, they would usually signal each-other and combine to speed up Ghidorah’s resurrection… but there were times, on alien worlds that Ghidorah conquered, when it just wouldn’t care for these shed skins before returning to space since it wouldn’t be around on the planet for them to challenge it. What if more Ghidorah clones grew from the severed pieces it left littered on the dead alien worlds once the main Ghidorah left? Godzilla, San or other Titans would surely know if a Ghidorah-clone ever set foot on Earth while they were alive - does that mean the Ghidorah skull’s owner came to Earth and died before the still-living Titans were born and before the main Ghidorah that San came from arrived on Earth? And what killed the skull’s owner? Why is it’s DNA altered: did it encounter something, on ancient Earth or in space, that changed its genetic makeup? :o Does this mean there are more creatures like it, born from Ghidorah’s remains littered on dead alien worlds, who are still amongst the stars and who might one day find their way to Earth?

(2) I’m wondering who will be in charge of Monarch when Godzilla starts rampaging. If Mark rejoins Monarch and it’s still him who’s in charge, hopefully his character development during 'Abraxas’ will mean that even if his role doesn’t change much, he’ll be a lot less of an ass now than he was in GvK, and he won’t be the same fantasy-forbidding father that he apparently was to Madison in the GvK novelisation.

(3) One major thing that’s on my mind every time I think about this: in GvK, a lot of the conflict came from the humans not understanding why Godzilla’s attacking; and Viv 'n’ San as a Titan with EVP can communicate with both humans and Godzilla. So the only way I can imagine the whole Mechagodzilla crisis wouldn’t be over in time to prevent MechaG’s activation with Maia never getting near the Hollow Earth energy source, (unless there’s more adaptation deviation) is if Viv 'n’ San are on vacay in the Hollow Earth when the Titan rampage kicks off, and therefore aren’t topside to explain to Monarch and the world that Godzilla can hear Ghidorah’s call at every place he attacks. (Who knows, maybe in Abraxasverse, Viv 'n’ San will run into Kong and Team Kong in the Hollow Earth, then follow them topside in time for Mechagodzilla’s emergence - heh, I can imagine Viv 'n’ San’s “Oh, for fuck’s sake!!” reaction to a big, cybernetic Godzilla-Terminator bursting out of a mountain with Ghidorah’s bio-acoustics howling out of it.) And on top of this, there’s also the main 'Abraxas’ story hinting that the old Bone Singers’ ways of communicating with Titans are going to start coming back soon in Abraxasverse among the human population, making it less likely humanity will be as completely in the dark about Godzilla’s rampage as they were in GvK…

(4) I’m not sure where the internet rumour that Godzilla in Monsterverse canon sent the Titans back into hibernation because he sensed the Ghidorah skull came from - from what I’ve read, in 'Godzilla Dominion’ and the GvK novelisation, Godzilla explicitly sent all the Titans back to stasis because keeping them in line while they were awake was too much for canon-Godzilla to keep managing in the long-term, unlike with Abraxas-Godzilla. Maybe the other Titans will globally participate in Godzilla’s rampage looking for the Ghidorah-piece that’s calling out to any Titan listening, and the fact it’s every benevolent Titan that’s rampaging instead of just Godzilla will proportionately fan the flames of public panic and enable Apex’s role to go unnoticed. This could actually go quite a long way to make it understandable why the public are so blind to the pattern with Apex-facilities that Godzilla is attacking; if over a dozen Titans rampaging on humanity’s cities has the public too whipped up into a panic to think straight - especially since from what we’ve seen in 'Abraxas’ so far and from what TVTropes says about the GvK novelisation’s expansion, it looks like the public generally in Abraxasverse are a bit more humbled and concerned about the Titans’ environmental importance and a bit more common-sensed after KOTM’s events than they were in GvK’s continuation. Anyway, frankly I’m hoping an Abraxasverse GvK scenario will retcon or at the very least downplay the KOTM Titans going back into hibernation - I’m in agreement with TVTropes that turning KOTM’s humans-coexisting-with-awakened-Titans setup into an aborted arc and largely letting the Titans-environmentalism thing fade into obscurity was a crappy move on the Monsterverse writers’ part.

(5) Mechagodzilla’s pilot. With how Abraxas-Ren has already interacted with the Titans and shown his father’s respect for nature, I can’t see that character going down the same path as the Monsterverse-canon Ren did. There’s that idea a Nonnie suggested that Ren could get mind-raped by Ghidorah if it comes back (or maybe by another psychic evil Titan like Gigan ;)) so Ren becomes like canon-Ren - but after Chapter 17, I feel it would be better if canon-Ren, who’s stood apart from his canon counterpart and become his own endearing character in 'Abraxas’ already, goes down his own unique path. There’s also the possibility that Abraxas-Ren could be an unwitting pawn to Apex who doesn’t know what they’re really up to, but I doubt Simmons, if he’s anything like in Monsterverse canon, could ever fully pull the wool over nature-respecting Abraxas-Ren’s eyes. If MechaG still has a pilot with a relevant role, I think the pilot should be someone else. Maybe it’s Maia, who has a bit more brains in Abraxasverse than she did in GvK. Or maybe it’s an OC.

(5.5). An idea in the latter camp I had: maybe, as a mirror-world like flip to canon-Ren; whereas in Monsterverse canon it was Serizawa’s son who was MechaG’s pilot, in Abraxasverse it’s instead the OC son of Admiral Stenz - the son who agrees with his late father about killing the Titans to prevent human casualties, but who is much more willing to murder thousands for the so-called greater good and is crossing lines that his father never would’ve crossed. Or alternatively, maybe Stenz Jr. is a bitch-in-sheep’s-clothing; he expressly disagrees with his late father’s approach to handling the Titans which almost handed the world to Ghidorah on a silver platter in 2019, and he believes humans and Titans should live together… but instead of seeking a fair coexistence, Stenz Jr. thinks the Titans should be humanity’s slaves and Sentient Batteries, replenishing the world to benefit human civilisation whilst being penned by humans who dominate them with MechaG and being harvested for any resource goodies their bodies hold.

(6) Continuing from my pointer about how the human public in Abraxasverse seem to be a bit more common-sensed generally in Abraxasverse: I’m guessing this means Apex probably won’t have the military’s under-the-table support that they had in the GvK novelisation (according to TVTropes), and instead Apex’s corporate conspiracy will rely more on underground paramilitaries and other illegal groups - including groups with anti-Titan sympathies - to get the materials and resources they need to build Mechagodzilla. OR: maybe in Abraxasverse, MechaG wasn’t built in secret by Apex; maybe in reference to your old Tumblr shenanigans about Vivienne and Serizawa using MechaG, Monarch started building MechaG so humanity could contribute in a fair and meaningful way to fate-of-the-world Titan brawls alongside Godzilla and Mothra, but Apex stole MechaG (maybe Apex used the havoc and confusion of a Titan rampage instigated by Ghidorah-remains or the Children of Zmei calling out) and they installed the Ghidorah/C.O.Z.-parts into the Mecha thinking they could control it.

(7) If this scenario does occur, considering how awesome Monsterverse-MechaG was; maybe in an Abraxasverse scenario, instead of being killed fifteen minutes after he’s born, MechaG will have the smarts to flee once Kong and Godzilla team up and the odds turn against MechaG, leading to MechaG being a longer-lived threat? Maybe he’ll even recognise Viv 'n’ San are part-Ghidorah and take an interest in the Ghidorah half of them, in contrast to Ghidorah’s interest in the human half during 'Abraxas’?

(8) The destruction of Skull Island. It was caused in Monsterverse-canon by Camazotz manipulating Ghidorah’s storm. Assuming this still happens in Abraxasverse, wouldn’t Monarch contact Viv 'n’ San and make them aware of what’s happened (if Viv 'n’ San don’t find out on their own) so they can use their Ghidorah-derived, storm-harnessing powers to try to reverse what Camazotz did? After all, Monarch would probably be thinking, since the storm will kill all non-protected life on the island if it stays that way, even if Viv 'n’ San’s attempt to change the change goes wrong, it can’t be any worse for the island than if they didn’t try. Of course, there’s still the real possibility Viv 'n’ San’s attempt could make no difference or even end up making the storm worse for the climate of places beyond the island.

So, yeah, those are just my thoughts on how a GvK scenario could occur in Abraxasverse, and the mythos and continuity considerations involved. :)

—

JAYSUS CHRIST LOOK AT THIS GOLDMINE!

Whew! So many possibilities and great ideas, thanks for sharing them! Who knows what the future brings, but what I can say is that, whenever the hell I start working on it, Chapter 18/Epilogue won’t be nearly as huge as 17 was (which was over 22 THOUSAND WORDS HOW THE FUCK), so if it’s okay maybe I’d like to leave one or two nods to this list for the AbraxasVerse take on GvK…

#zerm1v0hg #fic: abraxas #submission #thanks for the submission!

[terminally-karkalicious]

allow me to rant about the only thing that has been in my brain for the past two months and that is doll customizing babeyyyyy

i know there’s a 90% chance that you wont give a Shit about any of this but here we go anyways

SO first you gotta choose a doll. preferably one with a high range of motion to avoid creating new joints or having annoying limitations like not having elbow joints for some fucking reason. what the fuck mattel. give monster high dolls back their ball jointed shoulders and elbow joints. smh

the most common dolls ive seen used as bases are monster high and ever after high. most customs ive seen are highly stylized so the stylized face molds work well for those types of dolls but dolls like barbies are good for when you want a more realistic face-ups.

once you’ve got your base picked out you gotta wipe that bitch’s face off with like. acetone or nail polish remover or something strong like that. you can also use acetone to shrink doll heads which is cool as hell imo. n e way once the face is wiped you gotta chop off the hair and remove the hair plugs from the inside. ive seen this done several ways but the easiest and most common way ive seen is to dunk the head into boiling water for ~30 seconds until it gets squishy and malleable. once you’ve got the head back, you can use pliers (i think tweezers would work in a pinch) to pull out the hair plugs which are kinda icky because theyre covered in glue and other gross shit. ew

now you must decapitate the doll. dunk em back in the boiling water to soften them back up then just tug the head off. the neck pegs look funky and are usually a different color than the body so thats cool ig

once the head’s off, you can start the face-up which is basically just giving the doll a new face using stuff like watercolor pencils, acrylic paint, gouache, and a whole lot of other stuff. hell ive seen people use person makeup on these dolls.

next,,,,, hair. there’s about twenty million ways to do hair from gluing yarn wefts to sewing to rerooting with purchased nylon doll hair or yarn wefts but i’m gonna talk about the most common one ive seen which is rerooting and gluing.

before you can reroot, you need doll hair. which, as i mentioned, can be bought at stores like the doll planet or made at home with yarn in literally any color. have fun with it! make rainbow hair or something idk

to make homemade wefts, you take some acrylic yarn, cut it twice as long as you want the hair to be (keep in mind you can cut and style the hair once it’s been rerooted), fold them in half, and tie it to something sturdy like a wire coat hanger for the next step.

once you’ve got your yarn tied to your hanger, use a pet brush and brush the yarn until it’s wispy and looks like hair. then take a straightening iron and iron the weft flat. then remove from the hanger and boom. hair wefts. ta-da

to reroot the wefts onto the head, use a rerooting tool (which can be as simple as a needle with the eye cut at angle) (just google it please i’m shit at descriptions)) to poke small sections of the hair into the head. you can use the pre-existing rooting holes for your own reroot as they’re usually pretty reliable. to reroot, take a small length of you doll hair (about 10-15 strands), loop it in half, and put the middle of the loop into the reroot tool. poke the end of the tool with the hair on it into the pre-existing hole and remove the tool. the hair *should* stay in and fill up that plug!! also remember to plug thickly at the hairline and part of the hair where it's most noticeable. it doesnt matter as much in the center of the head as that’s not usually visible on the doll. once you’ve rerooted, squeeze in strong glue through the neck hole and squish around the head to make sure it covers all the plugs and secures them in place. then pour hot water onto the head to make the hair lay flat for styling later.

also, you can reroot yarn directly into the head to make thicker, more textured hairstyles. and since the yarn is thicker, you dont need to glue the inside of the head for the hair to stay in place!!

if youre not doing body modifications (which are also cool as hell) then it’s time for clothes but clothes are boring and i like body mods more so i’m gonna rant about them instead

the material ive seen most doll artists use is apoxie sculpt, which is like play doh on steroids. it comes in two parts which you gotta mix together for some reason. why dont they sell it pre-mixed. what was the reason. also once it’s dry it’s super super strong and you can sand it, drill into it, paint it, and all kinds of stuff. very nice and i want some for myself.

you can use hand saws and drills and shit to whack off doll limbs to make stuff like digitigrade legs or new joints. also dont be afraid to use other mismatching doll parts when customizing like heads and bodies and forearms and hands and shit. it literally does not matter if youre gonna recolor the doll anyways so have fun with it. make frankenstein’s doll if youre feeling spicy

accessories my beloved. stuff like tiny beads and clay baubles and shit will literally transform the entire doll plus they’re adorable and multi-purpose

i suppose i must talk about clothes now. ah well. you can find great clothing patterns if youre new to customizing on other customizer’s etsy shops and probably google although those will probably be lower quality than paid pattern pieces. and keep in mind that if it exists as clothing irl, you can likely make it doll-sized. there are literally no limits to your clothing options as long as you can execute your idea.

the once all your components have been made, you can assemble the doll again!! and finally see what all the parts look like together!! very cool 10/10 stars.

ight that wraps up my doll rant. i could really go into more detail on certain parts but thats a whole other rant for a whole other day smh. sorry for fucking flooding your inbox ender ahaha……………. you asked for this

little did you know that dolls have been one of my favorite things since like ever. if i can read a 25 chapter long fanfic i can read this B)

mattel definitely fucked up by completely ruining MH doll designs and just stopping EAH, alot of their profits most likely came from people who collect and customize dolls and by changing MH doll designs/Stopping EAH dolls they 1. most likely lost a small (or big if we're not jus talking people who customize dolls) part of their profit and 2. made it harder for doll customizers to make dolls/get commissions out rather quickly because they probably have to waste more time making joints or learning how to make joints.

EAH/MH dolls (specifically MH dolls) had AMAZING MODELS because there was so much variety with height, face shapes, etc (my favorite molds had to be the short/tall dolls and the cat molds because of the tails) and doll customizers really went all out with enhancing a molds unique features. The only "downside" abt MH dolls is that they (or atleast most)(from what i remember)) had slimmer faces but wider eyes while EAH dolls have wider faces with slimmer smaller which left a canvas for the face and not the eyes (and vice versa for MH dolls)

I've never seen any videos where a barbie is customized (maybe because i absolutely despised barbies at the time) so I'll definitely have to check those out but they seem to be good for realistic makeovers. I've seen like like semi realistic makeovers for EAH/MH dolls that were pretty good too tho (pretty sure mostly EAH dolls since yk MH dolls were used for creature makeovers while most EAH dolls weren't)

yeah i was always amazed by the head shrinking with acetone. honestly i still am?? idunno i have no idea how that chemical bullshit works. Ive seen a few of uh makeovers that just pain over the face (in multiple layers ofcourse) but that's usually when they're painting the entire body a different colour (again usually when they're turning a doll into a funky little baby man). I've also seen a few that just chop the hair off and take out the hair plugs yk without uuh like softening the head or just go straight for the hair plugs after taking off the head (i used to do that it was funny to me??). i always really liked when they used watercolour pencils or just colour pencils in general to draw/sketch on the face cause like wow ur drawing on ur doll without ruining it?? kinda epic maybe even poggers and pogchamp?? oh god my brain is failing wjshsmsj.

Watching them putting the hair back on the doll was, other than the face stuff, was the BEST part for me. Favorite type of hair was iuuuuuh was either thick yarn or brushed out yarn. Literally worship the people that would reroot the hair, theyre the most patience people on this earth!! it's literally insane but i guess that's what happens when you've been doing that for years? you guess kinda get used to it. when they put glue into the head does it just become stiff?? like it's just a clump of dried glue or does it like..hollow out again??

dude you literally cannot convince me most of the supplies used for doll makeovers. APOXIE CLAY LOOKS SO FECKING GOOD. its edible and i will die on that hill. The body mods are literally so amazing!!!!! it's so impressive how theyre able to imagine certain features THEN LIKE ACTUALLY MAKE IT LOOK ACCURATE TO WHAT THEY WANTED TO LOOK LIKE AFTER LIKE ON TRY (or many yk trial and error is very necessary for..everything). Absolutely loved when doll customizers would saw off a dolls legs and use different ones or just completely get rid of the torso to use a different one. it's like uuh that one big guy that's mismatched and sewn together. very cool. The accessories are so fun!! just small little details you seen really need but can add because it's your feckin doll!! I used to be absolutely obsessed over the doll clothes i would find on etsy, so much so that i started sewing shitty shirts and dresses for my uh "customized" dolls (they were absolute HORRORS idk WHY my mom let me feck up my dolls like that).

Thank you for this!! i haven't been able to talk about any of my interests for a while and this just really made me happy!!

Question fer u my fellow MH/EAH enthusiast: what was your favorite MH/EAH movie/episode and doll series. Mine was The fusion dolls (MH obvi) and that MH movie "Haunted" cause we got to know more about Spectra :D

#YOOOO LONG POST?! #long post #:) hehehe #this was very fun to read cant wait for ur next fanfic length ask #asks :D #theoreticallyjasper

[mostweakhamlets]

Untitled Sheep Project: Vegan Cheese and Wine

CW for mature, semi-explicit beginning. Nothing is described in detail, nothing is actually sexy, but stuff is happening. 

This is an original story in project I’m working on. I’d love to hear any feedback or if anyone enjoys it! It was posted initially on my patreon where I’m gradually building this project up! 

“We’re going to be late.”

“I know, my darling, but it ruins the mood when you keep saying it, and that’s just going to make us even more late.”

Cherry Bomb knew that when she focused too hard on maintaining her arousal, it made the whole situation that much less sexy. Once she felt herself start to lose it, she couldn’t force herself back into the proper mindset. She had to think about what was sexy about looking down at her bored partner propped up on pillows, doing the bare minimum to help her out.

And then her thoughts wandered to what she had to do after: laundry, shopping, meeting a client. In this case, she thought about how she had to shave her legs and how she should really try to put on a little makeup. Then, she thought about what her newest step-sister would look like, and while she had no hard feelings about the woman, she did feel a sense of competition whenever they were going to be in the same room.

She thought about Peggy’s usual well-lined lipstick and neat eye shadow. She owned expensive, luxury brand makeup from across the globe while Cherry Bomb bought most of her makeup at Boots and let it expire in her bathroom before she managed to use even half of it. If she were lucky, her mascara wouldn’t be dried up and clumpy yet.

“Fuck it.”

They lost it.

She climbed off and crawled off the side of the bed, picking her panties off the floor and pulling them back on for the walk to the bathroom. Richard lifted his hands in defeat and threw the sheets off himself.

“I’m glad we wasted our time with that,” he said.

“Don’t start with any of that,” Cherry Bomb mumbled. “Let’s just get ready.”

And half an hour later, when she heard the unmistakable sound of him jerking off in the shower as she left the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, she said nothing.

—

Vegan cheese turned out to taste not much different than dairy cheese, but it was just different enough for Cherry Bomb. She sipped her Spanish rosado wine to wash away the taste of the fake ricotta, and then scraped her tongue on her back teeth to get the coating of sweetness off.

Perhaps if she had been to an actual cheese and wine tasting before, she would know what to compare the vegan option to. Perhaps if she had a more refined palette, she would be able to make better conversation about it.

Her father, meanwhile, spoke about his latest research with the colleagues they had met. They droned on about studies and their results and gave little teasers about what they were going to present.

“You know,” Richard said, keeping his voice low. “The bar has other drinks.”

Cherry Bomb looked over at the bar that stretched across the back corner of the room, partially hidden by the crowd. Servers were leaving with trays of wine and individual people were gathering for hard liquor breaks. She waited for a lull in discussion.

“We’re going to step out for a smoke,” she said.

“Neither of you smoke,” her father said.

“We’re hoping that someone out there might peer-pressure us into it.”

She grabbed Richard’s wrist and pulled him away as he explained that they were just looking for fresh air after their many glasses of wine.

With her generous glass of whiskey and his generous glass of tequila, they stepped outside onto the empty patio. Groups hovered around the garden, smoking and making conversation. Maybe even gossiping about those around them.

Cherry Bomb took a moment to admire Richard. He was in a jumper she insisted he wear because the dark red looked so nice against his complexion and hair. That and she believed that a pale top would be a bad idea for a wine tasting—just in case of accidents. She reached up to re-tuck his white collar into his jumper.

“Can we talk about earlier?” he asked.

Cherry Bomb shrugged and took a sip of her drink. The stinging oakiness to it was a welcomed change from the sweetness of the wines that still clung to her tongue. The flavors did mix horrifically for a moment, but the next sip was that of strong liquor only.

“What should we talk about?” she asked.

“I think it might be time we talk to someone—”

Cherry Bomb cringed. Sex therapy was never something she wanted. She had always associated it with other people—people who had run out of options and were unable to communicate anymore. They were the people her father studied and wrote books and essays on. They were the fake names that appeared in studies next to stories about their failing marriages and deep parental issues.

“I don’t think it’s come to that just yet,” she said. “I don’t want to waste anyone’s time when there’s people who genuinely need that help. Besides, what are they going to tell us that we haven’t read on our own?”

“A lot.”

“I don’t think we need to resort to a therapist.”

“We’ve been having problems for nearly a year,” Richard whispered. “And it is multiple problems at this point. I’m keeping a list.”

“Then, let’s wait until it’s been a full year, okay? If February comes, and we’re still having problems, then I promise you that we can start looking for people. I’ll ask my dad if anyone he knows is taking new patients.”

“And that’s another thing we need to talk about. I don’t want your father involved in our sex life. If we do it, I don’t want him to know.”

“That’s reasonable, and I will respect your boundaries. We can Google it like other people.”

Richard smiled down at her. He looked far too sweet to deny anything. She wanted to cup his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss on the forehead, but she refrained.

Cherry Bomb watched the people around them. They all looked very posh with swanky dresses and suits and jewelry. But they also all looked the same, obsessed with being perceived as successful and upper class but not wanting to go too far as to look as if they were bragging. Though they definitely were bragging. The dress codes of the upper-middle class were all about being just relatable enough to people below them while also signaling to those above them that they had taste and money to spend as well. It was a balancing act in a circus of classism.  

Cherry Bomb counted only a few women without dyed-brunette, chemically straightened up-dos and two men in blue suits that they were trying so hard to look casual in. They swung their drinks around and pursed their lips and rolled their eyes.

It was who her father had become. Obsessed with appearing not out-of-touch but then flipping a switch once he safely could complain about how much he lost to taxes that year and how his gardener did a poor job planting new bushes.

The patio door swung open. Cherry Bomb looked over her shoulder to see Peggy scan the room before spotting them. Cherry Bomb swallowed the rest of her drink, clearing her throat after.

“I can’t blame you for wanting to get away.” Peggy walked to their side. She smiled at Cherry Bomb. “Your father is a brilliant man, but I cannot, for the life of me, follow what they’re talking about.”

Her eyeliner was perfect. It was a nostalgic style—something that would have fit in in the 1990s and went around her entire eye—and it fit her well. Just like her lipstick and foundation and dress. She wasn’t attractive in the conventional way. Her nose was a bit wide, and her face was more square than most women would have liked theirs to be. But that made her all the more attractive, Cherry Bomb thought. It made her unique, and she seemed to know it judging by how she held herself with so much confidence.

Or maybe she believed that she didn’t need to be attractive. That for her, looks were truly superficial and she had found happiness in her work and personality and social life and it had all reflected back out to give her a clear complexion and a few beautiful, silver wisps of hair.

“Imagine being raised by him,” Cherry Bomb said. “My bedtime stories were about debunking the Oedipus complex—he wanted to start me off with the Introduction to Psych basics.”

Peggy laughed. Cherry Bomb laughed, too, only because the liquor and wine she had had were all catching up to her and making her head float above her shoulders. Laughing made sense to her. Richard pressed his hand into her waist, and it felt distant.

“I’m leaving in a few minutes,” Peggy continued. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

Cherry Bomb leaned in for a half-hug and a cheek kiss she would never give anyone else.

Richard leaned in for an awkward hug. Peggy wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight, though it wasn’t reciprocated in the slightest. She hummed as she pulled away and smiled up at him, letting her hands rest on his shoulders.

Maybe Peggy wasn’t that great.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” she said.

She walked off the patio and back into the event room. Her heels clicked the entire way.

“That was a bit weird, wasn’t it?” Richard asked. “I didn’t imagine that?”

“No. No, it was weird.”

They looked through the glass doors, eyes on Peggy until she completely disappeared in the crowd. Maybe Cherry Bomb would keep her distance next time they met. Surely, Peggy would catch the hint.

“Do you want to leave and get chips?” Richard asked.

“Fuck, yes. Please.”

#untitled sheep project #original work #please lmk if anyone likes this #writblr

[abernathytm]

⌠ ELLE FANNING, 20, NONBINARY, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, ELIZABETH “BOWIE” FITZPATRICK-ABERNATHY ! according to their records, they’re a FIRST YEAR year, specializing in UNDECIDED; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (messy, white-blonde hair, flushed cheeks, dirty converse, ripped clothing, destructive behavior, stacks of gold bracelets, lack of respect for others, wicked brilliance, cracked iphone screen). when it’s the (pisces)’s birthday on 03/13/2000, they always request their SHEPHERD’S PIE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ kara, 26, she/her, pst ⍀

---  black adorned eyes or no make up at all, no inbetween, always humming to herself, only singing aloud in the shower or during a bender, writes on her hands, ink-stained on them and occasionally smudged onto her thighs. hates her family, but loves them and is close to her sisters in whatever way she knows how. messy room, messy relationships, messy life, messy white-blonde hair. flushed cheeks, dirty converse, ripped clothing, destructive behavior, stacks of gold bracelets, lack of respect for authorities, lack of respect in general, wicked brilliance, wicked humor, imperfect, careless, reckless, cracked iphone screen, dirty fingernails, black nail polish, unmade bed, unfinished joints scattered.  ---

+ Elizabeth Fitzpatrick-Abernathy, later referred to as Bowie, was born on March 13, 2000 in Spanish Fork, Utah, (the United States) to Dallon Fitzpatrick (mother) and Sheridan Abernathy (father). + growing up a devout mormon, a hyphenated last name was the only part of her family that could be considered modern.  + bowie is one out of six (1/6) golden-haired Abernathy Girls. + the Abernathy Girls is what everyone in spanish fork referred to them as. they fit into the town, but there was talk about the Abernathy’s often. you see dallon was only sixteen when she married sheridan who was thirty-six at the time. as far as bowie can remember, the couple had always been happy and healthy, but the age difference made them the talk of the town. + people in small towns always needed someone to hate. they had nothing else to do. so of course, the hyphenated family with the large age gap and six starkingly white, beautiful, pristine daughters were chosen. + at the age of seven, bowie got kicked out of her church choir for putting gum in a girl’s hair. the next time she (sylvia) arrived at school, she had buzzed her entire hair off and got made fun of for being bald. bowie laughed so hard that she got sent home for the rest of the week from school. instead of school, she spent the week attached at her sister’s hip and taking notes on how to grow up too fast. + all of the fitzpatrick-abernathy’s were musically inclined. when bowie was kicked out of her choir, the girls banded together and began playing music more at home. it came naturally. they all wanted to support the girl who didn’t speak. so they let her sing, encouraged her to ! the abernathy girls then began playing at church, at town events and eventually even further than that. the girls would still get together in current adulthood and play music on occasion. their music group then became known as “ The Abernathy Girls ” the same way they were known as such just by existing. + all of the parents that thought their children ought to have been in the spotlight for being well-liked or well behaved hated them. fake smiles were put on toward the family, but they spat behind their backs. + women even had mrs. abernathy over for tea and would pick her brain six girls, how does she do it, and so young. the truth was that they were looking for things to gossip about, to find out the darkness behind the abernathy’s that they knew must be there (it was though they never found it). mrs. abernathy would always be shown out before the time their husband’s got home. the women feared her youthful appearance, her glow, and beauty. it was like they thought dallon could TAKE something (someone) just by looking at it (them). + similarly, the town grew weary of the girls, never wanting the promiscuous, bad girls near their sons or daughters or boyfriends, etc. as if everything they feared about mrs. abernathy was also a gift she had passed down to her daughters.  + growing up with so many people in her home, there was never any room for elizabeth’s voice. she eventually found it to be easier to remain silent than to try and speak up. + the same sisters that would cut her off or tell her that what she had to say was stupid eventually begun calling elizabeth weird for never speaking and would poke and prod at her to get something out of her. instead of a verbal reaction, they would get something physical. for example, she bit down on her sister’s finger so hard that it went through the flesh and came off, causing her sister to have to get it sewn back together. + in this fashion, elizabeth found power in remaining unseen, while seeing everything around her. + she found that  ACTING OUT  got her family to care. + somewhere along the line, acting out became addictive. her behavior was no longer reserved for her family or even a product of her family but rather had become a part of her.   + twenty years later, bowie remains a mystery even to herself. + Abernathy’s were unapologetic. she is the Abernathy that is unapologetically wild, the rebel without a cause, always rebelling against her family in one way or another. + unlike her sisters, she can usually be found in black clothing with a lot of smudgy eye makeup. + she loves party dresses, black clothes, ripped clothes, and stacks of gold bracelets. + "fuck it" personality living an "i don't care" lifestyle. + carries herself in a way that is weirdly magnetic with a strut to her walk. + doesn't speak a lot until she gets to know you. speaks with her eyes and smile. + giant blue eyes are one of her identifying features and offers her an intense stare. + self destructive. + generally destructive, really. + makes you question why you were drawn to her destruction in the first place. + she has moments of what i like to call, "philosophical fuckery." + philosophical fuckery just means that bowie has a tendency to say things that are profound in a random fashion.  + there is something inside bowie that feels broken. + she sees people clearly for who they are, even if they don't want you to. she can see weakness, strength, and has the ability to get into people's heads.  + she is a watcher, first and foremost. this keeps her detached. + bowie’s scared of getting close to people and nowhere near in touch with her feelings. she’s absolutely ignorant about her feelings. + she has a go-with-the-flow, live-in-the-moment way of life that makes the only feeling she’s somewhat in touch with, her sexuality.  + the girl’s promiscuous, lusty and raunchy. + her extreme fear of intimacy is what keeps her detached.  + bowie CARES no matter how detached she may feel. + she is capable of love, but the feeling scares her. + trying to get to know Bowie Abernathy is like trying to bottle air. you are probably catching some of it, but there is no way of telling if the air stays in the bottle or not. + bowie is a thrill seeker. she loves the chase, she loves games, she loves talking in riddles, and loves to party. it's the only way she can successfully relate to people.  + she lives a party lifestyle even though she’s not yet 21. pre-gallagher was filled with raves and hard drugs. + she may be able to observe and analyze emotions, but she does not know how to handle them because emotions offer her no sense of control or comfort. + bowie is always in control of the situation, even if she's not talking. she is in control. she needs control. control is her comfort. + when she starts to get attached or fall in love, she starts losing that control in epic proportions and in epic fashion. + however when she sits on the sidelines silently watching a scene unfold, she is aware of everything and everyone. + she is the puppet master and has nuanced to pluck the strings if and when it interests her. + the needs of others do not affect her puppeteering. she can see what they need, how they will handle the situation, etc. but none of it affects her decision making; her decision making considers no one but herself.  + bowie needs to see a professional, has needed to for a long time, but with so many people in her family, the signs of her disorder had always been ignored or explained away.  + bowie has unconventional relationships. + most people are scared in new relationships, but when your brain does not function in the way that it should, it adds a whole new layer. we will call that layer: fuckery. + the added layer of fuckery causes bowie to get very close to BREAKING when she enters genuine and overly-close proximities with others.  + she can not handle the intensity and lack of control that love supplies. it weakens her defenses and allows for a mental break to occur. + she has yet to address the deep psychological issues that has lead her to doing hard drugs and using her family home as a party cave whenever she can get away with it. + bowie is not a reality-based person. her head does not process reality in a level-headed manner. this means that she is susceptible to manipulation and falls for manipulated realities. + since she already has a distorted reality, when someone else distorts it even more, it's hard to figure it out unless someone points it out. for this reason, she NEEDS the close relationships that hinder her emotional and mental health. + this chemical imbalance is the only part of bowie’s life that wakes her up enough to know she needs to find some sort of BALANCE, but it’s not enough to get the ball rolling all on her own. + bowie is addicted to the idea of "it happened, but it never happened." this is a tactic that allows you to change reality if you are not happy with it. + bowie comes across as controlled and confident and mysterious. + she is all-knowing, mysteriously holding the knowledge of everyone's deepest, darkest secrets.  + can manipulate a situation, but not for the life of her fix her own. + bowie plays games and parties har because it is the only way for her to feel close to anything you could possibly call pleasure or happiness. + falling in love and experiencing love, in general, makes bowie feel weak because she is not ready for the way it makes her feel about herself.

#gallagher:intro #intro

[storiitime]

Green Euphoria

Joker x Reader x Harley Quinn

Part 1

Part 2 Part 3

Rated M

Word count: 2621

Events take place after Suicide Squad. 

It was a gloomy, rainy night in Gotham; the streets were covered in an inch of rain and very few cars were out, making it strangely quiet. While most of the city was at home in their warm beds, you unfortunately were a part of the dark underground that came out at night to do things normal people couldn’t even imagine. It’s not as though you chose this life, though. You had no other choice. You sat in the backseat of the black Escalade staring outside, watching the droplets roll slowly down the window. As the street lamps went by and illuminated the tiny droplets, the events of that fateful day replayed in your head.

It was like a scene from a horror movie; blood splattered the walls from the bullets, broken glass, papers, clothes, and jewelry covered the floor. On top of the mess lay the bodies of your roommates, large holes in the middle of their foreheads. You sat on your knees, your hands bound and tape covering your mouth, tears rolling down your cheeks. One of your roommates had been falsely courted in a club by a man who worked for a mafia group in Gotham. He pretended to court her to gain her trust, enough to take him back to your home where you and your two best friends lived. It turned out his job was to find vulnerable women whom they could abduct and use as weapons.

You were in bed, half asleep when you heard them enter your home. They came in a pack of six, all dressed in black and wearing animal masks. They forced the three of you on your knees in a row while they looked you over. Who knows what criteria they had been searching for, but they had decided that you were the only one they would keep.

“This one will do, kill the others.” The one in the bear mask spoke, looking you up and down. You tried to scream through the tape, but you couldn’t let out a sound. You could do nothing as you watched them shoot your friends one by one. “Search the place, take any valuables. Bring her to the van.”

You flailed violently as two of them dragged you out of the home. They pulled you out into the cold street and threw you into the back of a white van. Shortly after closing the door, you saw one of the men walking out of the house, a gas can in hand. Putting a cigarette through the mouth slit of his mask, he took out his lighter and lit it, then throwing it into the trail of gas. The house was quickly engulfed in flames. You watched in horror, unable to process what had happened so quickly. All the men jumped in the van and began to drive away. Before they forced your head down, you caught a glimpse of what looked like Batman, standing on the roof of a nearby building, watching as the van drove off. As time went on, you would come to hate Batman for not doing anything to save you or your friends.

The events that followed were all a blur, but from what you could remember you had been taken to an underground facility and forced to ingest a disgusting substance through a tube in your nose that burned the inside of your entire body. You would later come to understand that it was a mixture of unknown chemicals that changed the genetic makeup of anyone it came into contact with. Over the next few days, you were locked in a dark holding cell. All you could remember was the way your insides felt. It was painful for the first couple of hours, but then it turned into something indescribable; something surreal. When you looked over your body, you didn’t notice any change, but you knew something was different. You could feel a change in your being. You noticed you were more flexible; as you found comfort the next few days in putting yourself in strange positions that you couldn’t do before. One of your favorites had been doing the splits on the floor and bending backwards, much like a ballerina (arms in the air and toes pointed and all). There were also strange times when you would enter a state of extreme euphoria; everything felt amazing and you would barely be able to stand from your trance of pure bliss. Your eyes would roll to the back of your head as you laid on the ground, rolling around in ecstasy. However, deep anxiety began to become a part of your everyday life, and using your power was the only way to escape it.

A few days later they took you out of the cell. You learned that they had kidnapped many other women and forced them to take the same substance. The mafia group wanted to create human weapons with abilities that would help them on jobs. After many tests and experiments, they were unhappy to learn that you had developed the least useful ability out of the group. You had the ability to bring others into a state of euphoria through touch. They had no idea how your power developed, as they came to the conclusion that something in your personality most likely triggered it. You had no idea what it could have been, but you didn’t mind not knowing. You could use your power to escape reality for all just a few moments of pure bliss, you could escape the hell that you had been plunged into. The mafia put you to work as an escort, pairing you up with very important business men and putting them into your euphoria to get information out of them. The leader of the mafia also took a liking to you, or more so your ability. He would make you come to his hotel room at night and use your ability on him while you were forced to perform sexual acts on him.  

The world had turned into a grey, dull hell for you, and there seemed to be no way to escape it.

“Be ready, we’re almost there.” The driver said, pulling you out of your thoughts. Tonight’s job was at a club in the heart of Gotham, one you had never heard of before. The man you were escorting was an arms dealer who was expected of ripping off millions from your boss. Your mission: cozying up to the target enough to get him alone and then extract information from him. It was nothing new.

You heard your phone buzz in your clutch and took it out to read the text message. It was from the boss, it read: “Don’t fuck this up, the target is important. Hurry back too, what you’re wearing tonight makes my cock hard.” You cringe at the thought of him hard, thinking about it almost makes you sick. You put your phone back into the clutch and took out a compact to inspect yourself. Your makeup was perfect; a donned a dark-brown smokey eye with heavy lashes, a nice contour, and nude lips. Your hair was pulled up into a messy bun with curly strands hanging down. You wore a sleeved black lace dress that barely went past your rear and a plunging neckline that exposed most of your breasts. Black stilettos adorned your feet. To others you probably looked stunning, but the only thing you could see was the lifeless eyes looking right into you from your reflection.

As the car came to a halt, you put your compact away and stepped out of the car. On the outside, it seemed like a dive with huge bouncers guarding the door. For a moment, you felt you might be overdressed. They took one look at you and without question let you step through. Once inside, your eyes shot open. Everything seemed so expensive; gold everywhere, crystals and beads hanging from the ceiling, gold stripper poles and cages where almost naked girls danced to the loud music. The people inside were dressed just as nice as you, if not better.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you went to go sit down at the bar. You were surprised to see the bartender wearing a batman mask and a suit. “Cosmopolitan” You ordered. While he went to prepare your drink, you looked around. It was such a big club with so many people, you didn’t know how you were going to find your target. While you waited you tried to look around to scope him out. You noticed a dancer on stage was attracting a lot of attention but you couldn’t see past all of the people.  He brought you your drink but when you opened your clutch to pay he stopped you. “It’s already paid for.”

“By who?” You asked. He pointed to a VIP area towards the back near the stage. Deciding it was only polite to go and thank your patron, you head towards the area. Before you could enter, you were stopped by what seemed to be body guards.

“She’s with me.” You heard a voice call from inside. The guards stepped to the side and watched as you walked inside. It was much quieter in the VIP area, but was even more lavish than the rest of the club. When you saw who was sitting on the couches, you froze. One was definitely your target, and you assumed the one who had sent you the drink based on the way he was motioning you to come forward. He wasn’t the reason you were frozen in your tracks, though. Sitting across from him was a man in a purple and gold suit with gold chains and pale white, tattooed skin and dark green hair. His lips were red and his eyes were deep set and piercing. It was the Joker, no doubt about it. You had heard stories about him and had seen the things he was capable of, but you had never laid eyes on him. He was infamous and terrifying, yet here he was sitting right in front of you, staring right through you with his sharp eyes.

“Come here baby,” The target motioned for his lap “I hope you’re liking your drink.”  Having trouble escaping the Joker’s gaze, you slowly make your way over to the man. He was very tall with short brown hair and matching beard. He wore a dark red suit and was covered in gold chains and watches. He had an aura of annoying cockiness about him.

“I thought it’d be rude not to thank the generous person who buys a woman all alone at this huge club a drink.” You said playfully, sitting on his lap and wrapping your arm around his shoulder.

“You? Alone? How can that be?” He asked, cupping his hand around your ass.

“I don’t have many friends,” You answered, looking over at the Joker. He was still looking straight at you, resting his hands-on top of his cane.  He reminded you of a hunter eyeing his prey.

“You must play too rough.” He said as he put his mouth to your neck, breathing in your scent.

“You could say that.” For some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes off of his. It was like his eyes locked you into place. You didn’t know what you were feeling, but you knew you didn’t like it.

“What’s your name?” The target asked

“Y/N.” You answered breathlessly

“A sexy name for a sexy woman.” He slapped your ass, bringing you out of your trance. You faked a laugh. Then, a man walked into the area, he wore a black suit and had neatly trimmed brown hair and beard. He stepped right over to the Joker, seemingly oblivious to the powerful aura he omitted. He placed a large briefcase on the table in front of him.

“The money you requested, Boss.” He said, sitting down on a couch beside him.

Suddenly, the Joker broke out of his intense stare and flashed his silver teeth in a huge grin. “Ah yes, thank you Frosty.”

“Is that the amount we discussed?” Your target asked

The Joker put on a fake pout. “What, you don’t believe that I’m a man of my word?”

“I believe you, but I don’t think it would hurt to check.”

The Joker smiled, opening the case revealing a cash amount you probably couldn’t even fathom. “See, it’s all here.”

Your target smiled, “I just wanted to check, no harm in that. I want to thank you, Joker. You can be a crazy man, but we work well together.”

“Crazy…” The Joker replied, standing up “I’d see it as more of setting a unique workplace atmosphere.” He laughed, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The whistling and hollering of the crowd caught your attention, and you could clearly see who was on stage now. It was the infamous Harley Quinn, dancing in an all gold dress on the pole. You had never met her before either, but you heard the stories, and you heard about her recent breakout from wherever she had been locked up. Anxiety began to flow into you as you realized just what kind of dangerous situation you had been placed in.

The Joker whistled towards Harley, and as if she had been programmed to do so, she immediately came running over. She hopped over the small wall separating the VIP and stage. “Puddin, did you see me dance?” Harley cooed, jumping into the Joker and wrapping her arms around him.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” The Joker growled “Let’s go home, Daddy’s finished his work.”

“Oh Puddin, you sure know how to talk to a lady.” She laughed, biting her teeth in front of his face.

Just as they were about to leave, your target opened his mouth. “He’s right, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” You had never been in the presence of the Joker and Harley before, but you knew how stupid he had been for opening his mouth. The Joker looked at him, his expression blank. Harley stepped to the side, smiling.

He turned to Harley, “See doll face, you had everyone’s attention!” Harley laughed along with him. You felt the tension in the air that your target was too ignorant to notice. You knew that you had a job to do tonight, and you needed to get information out of him, or you could be the one getting killed tonight. In a bold move, you placed your hand on your targets cheek, bringing his attention to you.

“What do you say we get to know each other a little better? Maybe go upstairs?”

He grabbed your ass tightly “Sounds good to me.” The two of you stood up, and you almost walked out without making any eye contact with the Joker, but before you could make it out the door, he spoke again.

“Wait, Harley” he said, grabbing onto her hand and leading her towards the two of you. “I want you to go with them.”

You gulped, watching the two saunter over. “Joker?” Your target asked

“Consider it a gift,” he replied, “for being such a loyal business partner.”

Your target looked Harley up and down, then smiled. “Well, if you insist.” Harley laughed and clung onto the man’s arm. As the three of you walked out of the VIP area, you couldn’t help but look back at the Joker. He was breathing heavily, a hungry look in his eyes as he watched you walk out.

You didn’t know what these two were up to, and you didn’t think you wanted to find out.

#jared leto joker #joker preference #joker imagine #the joker imagine #joker x reader #harley quinn #joker #harley quinn imagine #harley quinn x reader #harley x reader #harley quinn preference #suicide squad #x reader #xreader #smut #imagine #preference #suicide squad imagine #jared leto imagine #jared leto preference #margot robbie #margo robbie imagine #jared leto x reader

[captainpoopweinersoldier]

And what about Lisbet? What does she like and dislike, and what are her values? I think she's great.

Firstly - thanks! I’ve grown pretty attached to her and really wish I had more of her qualities lol. I’m very protective of her.

As we know, she’s a very logical person. She’s a big analyst when it comes to human behavior, so it takes a lot to get her riled up about stuff because she tends to have the ability to identify reasoning behind people’s actions. 

Ivar is particularly perplexing to her because of this. She can hardly read him. It’s part of what makes him so fascinating.

But human beings in general are pretty fascinating to her. She really likes the human body, things like genetic makeup and chemistry. It’s the contributing factor to her wanting to be a doctor. She doesn’t want to work out of a hospital or be a primary care physician though, she wants to be a biochemist. She’s absolutely thrilled with the idea of spending hours in a lab doing chemical research and developing new methods for medical practice.

So obviously she’s obsessed with books and reading. Reading has been her favorite hobby her entire life. When she was a preteen, she thought she wanted to be a writer of some sort, but her first AP biology class changed that.

She literally gets off on being a good student. She’s super confident in her intellect so she’s never too concerned about falling below her standard, but she is a perfectionist, and the standards she has set for herself when it comes to education is very high. If she gets anything below top marks, it destroys her.

She doesn’t like displeasing others either? When she knows people are upset with her, she gets very depressed. She’s a logician. If you go to Lisbet with an emotional problem, chances are she won’t let you vent but will instead immediately respond with a way to solve the crisis at hand. Which people tend to dislike in their sensitive moments. She doesn’t understand why people don’t like that.

That doesn’t mean she’s not good with people outside of that, though. She’s relatively extroverted and prefers a close knit group of friends that she becomes extremely loyal to. If Lisbet cares about you, she like, really cares. Really really cares. Her friends have been in her life for years. She’s also close to her family; she’s a single child but has a decent amount of cousins that she grew up with. So she values things like loyalty as well as privacy. 

Lisbet loves her cigarettes. Even fully aware it’s a horrible habit. It’s probably close to what she considers her biggest flaw.

She’s very fond of dry gin and cheap beer.

She has quite the potty mouth.

She’s short with thick thighs and her black hair falls to the middle of her back. She thinks herself as average looking but is confident enough that she doesn’t really care about her looks regardless. She’s always been a smooth talker (save with Ivar) and has never had a hard time being a flirt (save with Ivar; you see the pattern here). 

Her sex life was… pretty standard until she tried experimenting more with Kaleb. Kaleb was her only long-time boyfriend. But like I said, she’s also private and tends to be too into her studies to think about guys all that often. She’d rather have a casual chat-up at one of the many dive bars she fancies so much.

She has been a-okay with men in general until Ivar fucked it all up.

She loathes lying. She values trust no matter what relation someone has with her, but she also sees it as a huge insult to her intelligence. And that does not fly with her. She’s not super confrontational and she is, for the most part, able to remove herself from other’s emotions when they take things out on her, but once you start insinuating she’s any less intelligent than she really is, she gets fucking livid.

Of course, all of her managed self control and composure gets really hard to maintain when people get under her skin. She likes to be liked. She likes camaraderie. She likes respect.

Her sense of humor needs some improvement, but she is especially fond of sarcasm.

She also just doesn’t like to judge people, man. She enjoys the complexities of people. She understands that there’s 3 sides to every story, and she likes threading through them to get to the real one. 

She’s kinda cool.

#ask #anon #keep your silence fic

[ripplestitchskein]

Can i ask you to share your routine? My skin is pretty bad so I'm always wanting to try new things

Of course! It’s one of my favorite subjects. I’m pretty obsessed, some people are probably so sick of me talking about it. Also I would recommend The Original Beauty Bible as a resource (the lovely @thegladelf told me about it and it’s awesome) and r/SkincareAddiction on Reddit.

I’ve changed things up but I’ll post both routines, I just added some new things. My routine is a bit intense because, like I said, I’m obsessed but I also find it incredibly relaxing and just nice. It’s like treating yourself everyday. And I enjoy the research and science and trying new things aspect:

1. Remove makeup, I use either Micellar water or ponds cold cream. Usually the cold cream because it’s the only thing I’ve found that gently removes my eye makeup. Always remove your makeup. Even if you don’t do anything else. Makeup wipes can be crazy harsh with all the rubbing and tugging.2. Wash with gentle cleanser. I use Cetaphil. No microbeads or anything that will be rough on my skin.3. Toner to lower the PH of my skin so my actives will absorb better. I have a glycolic acid cleansing toner but I also use witch hazel. 4. Serum - I use the Super Serum from Silk Naturals. Some people put this on after spot treatments but my research indicates it’s better and more effective at the lower PH. The Silk Naturals is the only one that has both Vitamin C and niacinamide. Normally you don’t mix those but they use a different kind than the kind found in vitamin c only serums.5. Chemical exfoliant: BHA - I currently use stridex in the red box a few times a week. Not everyday because its too much for my skin. I don’t use a regular AHA currently because I’m in the middle of a lactic acid chemical peel series and I don’t want to overwhelm it but I might incorporate one to switch off with. 6. Spot treatment - benzoyl peroxide on spots only.7. Moisturizer

That’s my PM routine. AM is just cleanser, moisturizer, sunscreen (vital especially since I use chemical exfoliants which cause photosensitivity and not using one makes it pointless since it makes the hyperpigmentation I’m fading worse even with limited exposure, it’s been hard finding one that doesn’t break me out or fuck with my makeup though) then primer and makeup.

I’m switching things up by switching to oil based double cleansing so I’ll clean with grape seed oil first and cold cream for eye makeup. Then wash with cleanser.

I’m also adding in another Serum (snail mucin)which actually comes after the chemical exfoliants.

Im also adding in a separate niacinamide serum when it gets here.

I’ll be using hydrocolloid bandages on active spots as well as zinc oxide cream (basically diaper rash cream) on cysts as my acne is almost exclusively hormonal and cystic, only below my nose on my chin and jaw. My cheeks, nose and forehead are almost always perfectly clear. There is some evidence that zinc oxide can help cystic acne reduce and heal faster but it’s not conclusive, really I’m doing it because it doesn’t hurt and I won’t mess with it if I have something on it ditto the bandages. I have a tendency to cause huge gashes in my face messing with them. Luckily I don’t have any pits or scars from doing this but I certainly don’t want to tempt fate.

I’ve also found putting Vaseline on after everything on healing spots (I pick my face if I’m not being mindful) does WONDERS for healing time and helps my concealer cover them up because the areas aren’t dry. Just a thin layer.

General things I do is never touch my face unless I’m not paying attention and picking. I always use a clean towel everyday or just let it air dry. Regularly wash my makeup sponge and brushes, don’t use my phone except hands free cause then I do get blemishes on my cheeks cause phones are gross, and change my pillow case everyday (I use a tshirt).

I also do a honey mask once a week on Sundays with my hair mask, more often if I’m having a bad skin week. It’s wonderful and it tastes delicious.

And I’ve been doing a chemical peel series on Saturdays with 40% lactic acid.

It’s a lot on paper but I’m doing other stuff while this going on, I’m not chained to the bathroom or anything. I give everything a 15-20 downtime between so I’m reading or working on school or having dinner etc while all this is going on, I just wander back into the bathroom to apply the next thing. It’s really not as intense as it looks.

Also it WORKS. I used to have severe acne, like to the point people asked me if I had an allergy or condition. Easily 20-30+ different marks on my face a day all concentrated around my chin and jaw. Now I consider a bad breakout 4-5 and really only see them in the weeks surrounding my period. I’ve gone a few menstrual cycles with only only 1 or 2 the entire time.

My skin is much brighter, my pores are smaller, my face is so smooth and lovely it’s hard NOT to touch it. I’ll even leave the house without foundation occasionally which was NEVER a possibility before.

It took YEARS to get to this point, and now I’m kind of in the phase where I’m enjoying trying new stuff and maximizing its potential. The only downside is I do kind of go overboard when I do breakout from something like the sunscreen or a. new foundation (I’m on a foundation mission), but I honestly feel like this is one of the most worthwhile things I do for myself.

#skincare #long post #sorry guys

[chiefbeck]

Chapter 43: From War to Peace

I have been battling with myself, with my friends, family and the outside world nearly my entire life... peace is a hard to find and a difficult journey. I can get there and so can so many other people. These battles are not just a gender thing as I describe my personal struggles. There are so many things that we all wish we could do, or things that we wish we could change. Take a look at my story and see if you can apply some of this to your wish and your own struggle. We all have the courage in us to be our true self and be at peace.

My gender struggle and some of my path from war to peace.

Gender has three different facets:

1. Who I know myself to be, the inside voice, my personal identity.

2. How I express myself to everyone else, my outside self, my clothing and appearance.

3. How everyone else sees me. The outside world has its own vision.

These three facets then become the three fronts of the battle in a way.

Scenario one: I hide my inner identity within myself.

The first is all within myself. I have known since I was a kid that I was different and the struggle started. I was worried and afraid and constantly questioning myself. It was a battle within my head to just be myself, I try to be true to myself in my heart, but also live with who I was on the outside. This internal struggle sometimes ends in breakdown or bad relationships with everyone around me. You hate yourself and think that you are defective; you want so badly to be “normal.” You are a basket case.

The second battle was how I expressed myself to the world. Your outside appearance is a cover and disguise of what you really are. I was in constant hiding and afraid at all times of getting caught. This ends in constant lying to protect your true identity; you will never be able to live a real life and have real relationships with anyone. It ruins families and

friends, as you are constantly lying and sneaking around. In order to hide, you overcompensate or isolate. Your emotions are out of control because you are always on a type of defense. You lash out and are never sure of yourself. You look around and see the rest of the world as normal, and you just try to fit in. The constant fear is mind numbing. Your friends and family are still there except they know something is wrong and see your unhappiness.

The third battle is how everyone in the world sees me. I was constantly on the look out to make sure I was in the proper disguise. Hidden well behind ultra-masculinity or layers of manliness. The word sees you as what you are at birth. The world sees someone that might be isolated and wrapped real tight, but they accept you for what you show them.

Scenario TWO: You come out and announce your new gender and live that “new” life, one that is true to you.

How I see myself: I was born male, but identified myself as female since a very young age. I hid it for a long time; it caused me anguish and turmoil in my own head. I came out in February of 2013. I felt a huge weight off my shoulders. I finally started to like myself and learned what happiness could be. I was at peace with myself. As time went on I felt better and better. A year goes by and I have no disguises, just me. I like myself, and for the first time in my life, I can love other people and just relax. In my own head, it is like springtime; I am reborn and looking forward to life, my life.

How I present myself to the world: I present myself as a woman. The problem with that is I was born a man and had male chemicals, testosterone, in my body for 47 years. I have a hard time looking like the models in the magazines. I am worried and trying so hard to present myself as what society sees as a woman. I over compensate the attire and makeup and everything for a while. I am a forty something year old going through puberty. I am trying so hard to make my appearance match what I see in my head... A woman. Because of this presentation and this very, very late puberty, it causes some very difficult times between myself and my family and friends. They are worried about what the neighbors will think; my friends and family see a dude in a dress and are embarrassed. Some of my family see the connection between the inside me and why I am expressing myself this way; they make the jump and only see the

woman; they don’t see the five o’clock shadow or the biceps that don’t fit a vision of a girl. They see that I am happy because my inner voice is expressing itself on the outside.

The way the world sees me: My presentation to the world is one thing, but how the world sees me is another altogether different thing. As discussed earlier, there are some people who are able to make the jump and see the real me; they see past the outside covering and see the real me. Most people have a hard time making this jump. They keep seeing the man that used to be and never the soul or the real person. The world, for the most part, does not accept someone who lives their life and expresses themselves as something that is different than themselves. There are some transgender people who pass and totally appear on the outside as their new gender. The outside world sees them as how they present themselves; these transgender people are probably about 50% and the others cannot attain that “passable” level, so they present as one gender and they are seen as the opposite of what they present and they live through ridicule for much of the time. (But they are happy in their own head, and most of the time this is enough.)

Both scenarios are difficult roads, and there are loses and gains that apply to each. Someday maybe the choice will be to live happy and at peace in your own identity.

There is a local pool room bar here in St Petersburg that I go to often. It is a smokey kind of tough bar full of pool players, truck drivers and construction worker types. This bar would be a perfect movie set for a local red neck bar in the swamps of central Florida. Everyone in the bar has that look of hard working Americans that will stand up for themselves and their friends. It’s a locals only bar.

The first time I went to this bar I was wearing a sun dress and flip flops, my hair was pulled back and in a ponytail. As I walked in, it was like that bar in “Animal House” when the music stops and everyone is staring. They all looked up with a what the fuck expression. I drank my beer quietly, and then the bartender moseyed on over and started asking me some questions. Maybe to figure out why a dude in a dress was in this local bar. This bar may have never seen a gay or lesbian person or at least one that it was noticeable.

I told the bartender about myself, just enough to let her know that I wasn’t too much different than anyone in the bar. I was a retired enlisted SEAL team member barely back from the war. I wanted a beer and relax to a couple games of pool.

She passed on the SEAL info to the owner, Dale, who then came over and struck up more conversation. He was generally interested as an avant-garde type of guy. He was good friends with the beat poet Jack Kerouac back in the 60s.

Dale gave me a beer on the house, I gave him some personal info and told him about my Anderson Cooper interview just in case he was interested in my story in the SEALs and what I was doing now as a woman.

A couple of weeks later I went back to that bar. Dale called out, “Hey Kristin, welcome back. Coors light.” I kind of gasped in surprise at the reception.

He brought me around the bar to meet more of the locals.

I shook hands with a dozen gents and a few ladies that frequent the place. Everyone kind of had that what the fuck look, but were pleasant.

I played a couple games of pool, spoke to some of them telling more of my story and sharing in their stories and such. After a couple of beers, I bid my new fiends goodbye. It would have been fun to hear some of the conversations amongst the locals over the past few weeks.

I went on a trip to Washington DC to work with the Congress and Senate on some equality bills and such, and on my return, I went back to my new favorite local bar.

I was met with more friendly greetings. It was really cool. I told some of them about my time up on Capitol Hill, they were all kind of digging it. I went to the car and brought back a plaque that was presented to me by Congressman Hastings from Florida where the congressman commends me on my life work in civil rights activism. More conversations come up between me and these locals. I am kind of one of them. I shoot pool with them and have some really fun conversations.

I go back there often just to see everyone; I don’t think anyone in there sees me as anything but a lady. Ok, a kind of "tough retired SEAL team lady" that has some good stories and is laid back and shoots a good game of pool, but they see me as a lady.

It’s a cool place with a lot of cool people.

1. I am MY gender, a WOMAN. I am at peace with myself. I am a better person with my mind at ease.

2. I express myself as my gender, a WOMAN. I am at peace with my outside appearance. I am a better person and my body is in balance.

3. The outside world, this bar, sees me as a WOMAN. I am at peace with people around me. I am a better person and everyone around me are better people.

We are all really seeing each other, showing respect for who we are with no worries. We are all humans.

It is possible. This bar full of rough, tough, pool playing, blue collar southerners can do it.... it is possible.


[flirting-with-psychology]

Would you convert to a different religion if your fiancé/fiancée was of a different faith? No

The world is ending, and you can save one group of five people: who would be the five people that you save? Mom, dad, best friend, SO if I had one, myself. I wonder if any of them would resent me though for getting 4 people I care about while they only get me

Is happiness a delusion? Is happiness only real when shared? Why or why not? No, it’s as delusional/real as any other emotion caused by chemicals in the brain

What would the cover of your biography (presumably written by somebody else who never knew you, postmortem) look like? Probably a picture of me. Or maybe of me with like 50 guys I like

Write about a really good or creative Tumblr URL that you see frequently on your dashboard. I-run-with-scissors-to-feel-dangerous. I’ve just always thought it was funny

If swear words were not things like “shit” and “fuck” what would they be otherwise? Whatever else society thinks is taboo

Write a very vivid description of what is/would have been your most perfect way to lose your virginity. What is your exact definition of ‘losing your virginity’? Also: will you/would you have liked to save your virginity for marriage? Why or why not? It would have been more perfect I guess to lose it with someone who was also a virgin, and we both cared about each other. My definition is the first time you have penetrative sex (unless you are a lesbian in which case I don’t really know because I don’t know enough about lesbian sex). I would not want to save it for marriage because sexual compatibility is an important part of a relationship that I would not want to leave up to chance

Write a six-word fortune cookie. You will buy another fortune cookie

Why do you think eyebrows exist? Aren’t they supposed to help prevent stuff from getting down into our eyes? Just like eyelashes, even though majority of the time if I have something in my eye it’s an eyelash… but yeah. Also, eyebrows are way of like communicating or expression. Like when you raise your eyebrows out of concern or surprise, or when you scrunch them out of confusion or anger. < What that person said

If you could only have one contact on your phone, who would it be? Crap idk

Your bucket list is limited to three items. Marry someone amazing, sing a duet, win an oscar

Do you wake up first or do you open your eyes first? Uhh wake up probably?

Write a love/thank you/appreciation letter to someone you take for granted. Thank you mom and dad for everything you do which I definitely don’t reciprocate

What makes you feel infinitely sexy? Good eye makeup

Make a video and talk about something for two minutes. Anything. And don’t edit out any parts of it. Lol nah.

Write a poem you’d stick on a refrigerator. Nah. You can look at my poetry tag

Are you afraid of aging? Why? Yes because I feel like I’m not taking full advantage of my youth and it’ll only be harder as I get older. And I’m afraid of getting too old to explore things romantically and just be expected to know what I’m doing

Describe one time you basically thought you were the shit, when your self-confidence was soaring through the roof. This is meant to be a positive thing. It was pretty high the summer before junior year when I was working out more. And it was also high sometimes in grade school when I always got top grades

If there was one person you could get drunk with and kiss and then later blame it on alcohol, who would it be? My friend who I work with on film projects. I don’t like him romantically enough to risk ruining how well we work together, so I’ve never pursued anything. But this scenario would actually be kind of great

Does perfection exist? If the word perfection did not exist, what word would be in its place? What would perfection mean instead? I don’t think perfection exists. Mathematically it could but in actual physics there is always error. And other types of “perfection” are matters of opinion which are not the same for everyone. I don’t know what word would replace it

The next book you see that has over 300 pages, open up to page 136. Find a sentence you like, copy it down, and then write about it. Na I’m sitting

Who makes you laugh the most? Captain

What is one thing that you are proud of, that you think lacks praise/lacks appreciation from the people around you? It could be a simple thing; it could be a secret thing. Most things I’m proud of get adequately praised

If you could accuse somebody of being fake/a bitch and not suffer any repercussions, who would you accuse, and how would you do it? I’d tell one of my friends that their SO is awful and that the relationship is toxic

What is the funniest one-liner Tumblr text post you’ve ever read? Idk bruh 

Rewrite a verse of lyrics from your favorite song. They have to sound good when you sing it out loud along to tune of the song. I wrote an entire Let It Go parody about essay writing. I’m not gonna copy it all here though, you can find it at tagged/frozen parody

If the SATs/grades did not exist, in what way should colleges/teachers evaluate applicants? maybe through actual work? <<<<

Do you feel at home in your home? Is home a place for you? A book? A thing? A person? What would you want your home to be? Not yet. I just moved in a couple weeks ago so it doesn’t feel like home yet. My room is getting there other than when there are spiders and I get all anxious, but the common areas still feel like their space since they’ve all lived there for a year. Home is generally a place. I also have a stuffed dog that makes things feel more like a home

Write your own eulogy. She was cool

What is something you felt like you deserved or should have belonged to you, but you never got? A relationship. It’s 2017. It’s time.

Do you feel ‘connected to nature’? Do you frequent outside? Do you believe that a connection with the earth we live on is necessary in the first place? Nope. Nope. I think that we should respect it but don’t need to feel connected

Your opinion on oral sex? It’s ok. There has only been one guy who really made me enjoy receiving, and giving is ok but I kind of avoid it when I can because I kind of gag on it and if they last too long which they usually do it kills the mood for me

If one TV show could be real, which one would you want it to be? Which one would screw our world over? Not sure. I’d want Harry Potter to be real but that’s not really a show. Something like The Walking Dead would screw us over

How many kinds of love are there? “There are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice.” -F. Scott Fitzgerald

Which word needs to exist (or be used again)? If it doesn’t exist how would I know about it?

What is the absolute hardest thing about staying alive? You need food, and for food you need money, and for money you need a job

What is a book that has been recognized as ‘great literature’ that you dislike? Why? Most of the books we read in school because a lot of them are slow and boring and anything interesting about them gets ruined by having to write stupid analysis papers

What is one change that you would make/have made to your life that will make/has made it better? Exercising more 

Is everything you do for yourself? Can you truly be selfless? I’m not good at being selfless

Are you the same person you were two and a half years ago? No, but similar

Can you possibly conquer the labyrinth? If that’s that shit with the dude with the eyes on his hands then nope

As a hyper intelligent pan-dimensional being, what is the answer to the ultimate question, the life, the universe and everything? What is the ultimate question? The pretension in this question just knocked like a week off my lifespan

#survey