#NO GATLIN STOP IT WITH THE GIRLS

[angelofthenight]

Haiii ^_^ I was just wondering if you can do like micah (from children of the corn 2) x plus sized reader who’s insecure ?? 🖤🖤

Micah x Plus Size!Reader

(Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Body insecurity, Hurt/Comfort, Reader is the pastor’s daughter, Alluded religious trauma, Mentions of Micah’s abusive dad, Teenage boy hormones (very faint), Kissing

Word Count: 3.0k

( Got a little carried away with the word count but I thought it was appropriate for how long this has been sitting in my inbox😭😭 Also this will be one of the exceptions from only writing Micah as a yandere )

Micah was naturally independent. 

He wasn’t shy or outcasted, he was just reserved and preferred to be at a distance where he could observe those around him. Those who danced mindlessly on the cleared floor in their best formal wear. Those who huddled around the punch bowl muttering about some misunderstandings. Those who clutched their pearls at how a few of the girls’ heels were too high. Those who chose to argue with their partner in the corner of the big room at a celebration like this.

But despite how independent Micah was, and despite how non-complex he viewed everyone in town as, his eyes could never stop from looking for one particular person in each crowded room he’s ever been in. Yet you were nowhere to be found.

In his most honest mind, he looked forward to this town party hosted by the town’s pastor, otherwise known to be your father, to celebrate the renovation of the church. It quite honestly didn’t need to be renovated in the first place, it was a tad small but it was perfectly fine. It was a waste of money in his opinion yet he kept that to himself after letting it slip to his father. His father brutishly shunned him for thinking such a way of the town’s beloved church, followed by a snapping backhand.

The reason he looked forward to this gathering full of balloons and caters was to see you all dressed up. He was still a hormonal guy so the thought of you in a dress made him tug at his collar. 

Micah pined after you hard. Simply just thinking about you made his face redden and collapse in his hands, and he left every interaction with you struggling to resist a dopey grin. He just liked and admired everything about you and found you to be the most interesting person out of all 968 people in this town.

You were a bit of a town outcast. Not physically an outcast where people avoided you or excluded you, no, you were actually very well-liked by the townspeople. You were almost like the People’s Princess of Gatlin. As the pastor’s daughter, you attended lots of town events and were always incredibly polite and humble. Like a princess. 

Though, you were just so… different from the rest of the town. Your world-views, your opinions, your personality, your attitude, your humor, your wit, the way you spent your free time, the way you danced, how you walked, how you talked, and so many other traits. Micah personally surmised you didn’t even believe in God.

You didn’t belong here, not in this town, Micah knew for certain. You were meant for bigger, more exciting things and settings and environments. This small town was one big restraint on you. 

And maybe there were much better words to properly describe you, but to Micah he saw you as cool. Like a cowboy.

So other than his great infatuation with you, he genuinely liked being around you. He wanted to say the two of you were friends but he sometimes guessed he was just a small speck in your colorful world filled with thoughts and views he could never dream of. 

He craved your presence, he found attending this party not even worth it if you weren’t around. But maybe this was what he got for wanting to see you in a short dress so bad. That was until when he lingered around the windows for a change of scenery, he caught the misty sight of your silhouette sitting in the grass facing the cornfield.

It was as if the boredom zapped out of his eyes when he was certain it was you. Quickly running his brown eyes around the room, he spotted his father lost in quiet words exchanged with the farmhand’s wife. She was holding a tray of banana bread muffins with a gushy and blushy expression on her face as his father ate a pinch off one of the sweet breads with a sultry smile, clearly trying to make it look like he was talking about her baking with her when it was clear to Micah that was most definitely not what they were talking about.

With his father too deeply distracted by the female skin of infidelity to prevent his son from sinfully conversing with a girl, Micah took that as his blessing to exit the church in pursuit of you. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to make conversation out of. Maybe he could talk you into joining this little group the new kid in town, Isaac, was gradually forming. He wondered if the central philosophy of the group would appeal to you. He wouldn’t be surprised if the pastor’s daughter held a resentment towards the adult. 

As he dug his hands into the pockets of his pants, not even the breezy night air could cool the warm temperature creeping up his neck the closer he approached you. 

“Hey, (Y/n).” He accidentally croaked out. Your body subtly flinched in the thick cardigan you wrapped yourself into. After rubbing your eyes hurriedly, you turned your head to look up at the dark haired boy. “Oh, hi, Micah. Didn’t hear you creeping up on me.” You said with a soft and friendly tone of voice. 

Micah could’ve fallen to his knees right then and there from the sight of your shiny gaze casted up at him like that, the color of your orbs brighter than a full moon. And he swore he could name every constellation through your eyes. “My apologies. Mind if I sit?” He said, gesturing towards the area of the ground beside you. 

Your plump lips parted with the intent of asking to be alone but as you thought before you spoke, you changed your mind. “Go right ahead.”

A smile spread softly as he squatted down to sit with his legs crossed, his eyes taking in your styled hair and the sweater that shielded whatever you were wearing underneath it. “You look nice. Why aren’t you inside? I’m sure lots of people are waiting for you.” He said with a teasing smile yet also trying to be gentle with you as if you were world class.

You hugged your knees closer to your chest as you practically huddled deeper into your cardigan like a hermit crab, the thought of going inside made that lump in your throat thicker and your thoughts self-destruct all over again. “I know…” you kept pressing your lips together to prevent them from quivering in front of someone, “but I think I’m gonna run back to my house and change then join the party.”

Micah got confused now. You were clearly all pampered up for the party, even wearing the vintage pearl earrings he remembered your grandma used to wear. “But you’re already dressed. What’s the problem?” He took notice of how you sunk into your sweater, wondering if you were just cold. “It’s warmer inside than it is out here so you-”

“I just think this dress was a mistake.”

His dark eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean? I’m sure whatever you picked looks great.”

The sound of a mix of a huff and a whimper emitted past your lips as you pulled down your cardigan to reveal your dress. The floral print dress was shorter than your other ones, the skirt only covering less than half of your thick thighs (especially when you sat with your legs up), and the short sleeves were loose over your shoulders. It wasn’t tight but it hugged your curves and your busty cleavage peeked over the low cut collar.

The borderline skimpy outfit was different than how you usually dressed. Much more revealing and bold. And Micah felt as if he was witnessing a once in a lifetime sight, the universe teasing him with what was unattainable yet blessed him the sight out of pity. He didn’t realize his face was turning rosy until he felt the heat in his cheeks. He pursed his lips together and glanced off into the corn.

As goosebumps littered your exposed skin in the nighttime air your blurry eyes remained set on the grass in front of you, your focus not on anything specific. “My dad and I got into a little argument about my dress for tonight. Said it was too short even though it went past my fingertips. I wanted to really stick it to him, like give him the finger, so I altered it to this. But now that I’m actually here, wearing this… I don’t think I can go in.”

In Micah’s mind, he thought you were trying to express your insecurity of the indecent dress because you knew slut-shaming and proclamations of sin were guaranteed to be thrown at you the second you stepped through those doors. You were the Pastor’s daughter after all, and being his only child golden expectations were set for you. 

And though you actually did exceed those expectations by being noble and headstrong, you were a relatively tough individual. You never once stood for someone displaying disrespect and you were never afraid to put someone in their place with a fiery, wide gaze, intimidating people into that place. Other than who your kin was, nobody dared to argue with you. More reasons as to why Micah admired you.

So imagine his surprise when he heard a wet sniffle and noticed the twinkling reflection of thickening tears over your eyes. “Actually I think I’m just gonna go home and stay there. Sit this one out.” Your turning body to stand up made Micah for sure of the emotion in your face.

He said with a careful and nonthreatening tone, “Hey, hey, hey.” His arms softly reached out to grab your biceps, keeping you seated so that he could lean his face closer to yours so that he could meet your tearful eyes; his eyebrows curving upwards and his frown parted. “Why are you crying?” He asked gently with worry but the verbal notice of your mood only made your tears fall. 

You sniffled again as your frown trembled, the sight causing a squeezing pain to erupt in Micah’s chest. “You’re not the only girl in town who would get criticized for being revealing. You shouldn’t think of it as a personal or discriminative or victimizing thing, it’s just the kind of conservative community this town is. You know they didn’t even like when Lacey in our class wore Daisy Dukes in the middle of July.” He tried to comfort using a soothing tone and a realistic view on what he thought you were insecure about.

Though he soon believed he said the wrong thing when your avoidant gaze finally snapped onto his with your eyebrows furrowed, an annoyed essence swapping out your dejected image. “What? I don’t give a crap about them thinking I’m dressed like a whore. I’d wear a Scarlet Letter on my forehead and still not care about whatever they have to say.” You said sternly and clearly. 

Micah, with his hands still gently holding onto your biceps, glanced back and forth between both of your eyes and the cornfield. He was lost and puzzled. “Then… What are you so worried about?”

You didn’t blink as you stared into his brown hues before your gaze hardened and you slightly leaned back away from him. “..…Are you mocking me?”

The boy’s eyes widened as he frantically shook his head softly. “No, no, no. I really don’t see the problem if it’s not being slut-shamed.” He said with genuine bewilderment. 

Your emotions were in spirals and urges to scream in his face and cry at the same time flooded through you like oil leaks near a fire. You felt your spitfire blood pressure grow hot but yet… you didn’t explode. Perhaps it was because of the vulnerable weakness you harbored for Micah that rendered you unable to aim any sort of your conflagration toward him. Your weakness for the shy boy that always sent you a smile when you made eye contact was stronger than your fuse. Especially when he held you so gently and looked deep into your eyes like you were the only thing left on earth.

“Micah, have you seen me?” You said hoarsely, deciding to be point-blank with your approach. “I’m the weight of a cow. And this dress does nothing but make it more obvious.” The way you said your words sounded as if you were insulting someone with the intent to hurt them, but you spoke in the first person.

Micah had to take a second to register and digest what you were saying. But when it did it felt as if his heart broke into small pieces and fell down to the pit of his stomach. If anyone said that about you, Micah would gladly exchange black eyes with them to defend your honor. But the fact this was coming from you… He always thought so highly of you, thought you were in a whole different world than him. 

He was dumbstruck, dumbfounded. He looked back and forth between your eyes for the relieving hint that you were joking, or lying. But no, you were neither of those things. You were delusional. “What are you talking about? (Y/n)... you look incredible.” He breathed out yet his honest words just seemed to sting you even more, your frown deepening and the tears swelling back up.

You slightly wiggled in an attempt to get out of his hold yet his firmed his grip on your arms to keep you close to him. “I just… I just can’t believe that you would say that about yourself. Because in my eyes, you’re like this masterpiece crafted by the divine hands of the universe.” 

Your mind told you not to believe he was telling the truth, that he was just flattering the Pastor’s daughter and not you. But yet despite the dripping tears that fell into the grass, you felt yourself hang on every word that he spoke with such unfiltered sincerity that came out easily. 

“Your curves are not mere flesh and bone, but a testament to the wonder of creation itself, each curve a stroke of genius, each imperfection a mark of authenticity. Like, your body is an exact replica of the muse’s in the renaissance for paintings and sculptures. The timeless ones that people put up in museums to be admired and awed.”

Micah tilted his head to the side to place his face in your avoidant eyeline. He wanted you to look him in the eye as he told you this. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, to see how breathtaking and charming you are. Don’t let some insecurity blind you, because you are a masterpiece, a work of art, a marvel to behold. Your body is a temple, a vessel through which your radiant spirit shines forth, illuminating the lives of all who are fortunate enough to bask in-”

You harmlessly giggled with the sweetest smile and a punch shade of pink dusting across your round cheeks. “Okay, now you’re getting weird, you sound like a preacher.” You used the back of your hand to wipe your nose but also to hide your flustered grin. Micah smiled at the sight and the uplift of your mood, finally sliding his hold off of you.

A cleansing silence drifted over the two of you in your own little bubble. A comfortable one. Your heartbeat thumped sweetly in your chest, making the rest of your insides feel like warm mush that melted because of Micah’s honesty. “You know, I…” You paused to allow your blush and the reality of the situation sink in. “I never knew you felt that way.” You said as you looked up at him softly.

He didn’t know how to respond since he still believed you were so out of his league that you didn’t hold any affection for him. “Well now you do.” He said with a shrug. Your smile grew as your pupils dilated. “And I’m glad I know now.”

He approached what you said with caution and nervous curiosity. “Why?” You abused the seconds of suspense to truly admire the boy in a whole new light. “Because now I realize that I feel the same way.”

Micah was torn. Torn between his father’s words about the shameful sin of just simply talking to girls and the gravitational pull of his emotions and heart and attraction. Everything he was ever taught and learned was coming to question and doubt as he looked into your doe eyes, it was like an epiphany. Perhaps this was his final push into Isaac’s cause and his proclamation that the adults are wrong about everything.

Because could one small stolen kiss with a renaissance muse really condemn him to Hell?

“I really want to kiss you.” He finally breathed out like a warm sigh. “Do you think it’d be a sin if I kissed you?” He asked, genuinely wanting your insightful input. 

You took a moment to ponder until you settled on your answer. “I do.” 

Micah glanced down in disappointment. “So I’m damned if I do…” he looked back up to you with an entranced sense in his eyes, “but damned if I don’t.” He then leaned in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his hand moving to rest just below your soft jawline. He hummed into the contact which created a feeling of electricity shooting through you, prompting you to thread your fingers through the dark hair on the back of his head.

If this was the thing that would supposedly convict him to Hell, then Micah believed it was worth it a thousand times.

[certifiedtrashmouth]

spotify wrapped 16 and 24 :)

TRACK 16 & 24 - what if i love you by gatlin & bad omens by 5 seconds of summer (eddie munson x reader)

a/n: ooooo a double whammy!! i’m actually impressed with how well the two of these fit together. definitely giving two different perspectives on the same relationship. alsooooooo.... this is one that if anyone wants a part 2..... i'd definitely be down to do since i thought about including some good old-fashioned makeup sex :-) (it just got a lil too long to include it there in the end)

“and am i being too nice, dropping it all just to see you tonight?” 

“we go ‘round again, we jump back in bed. that’s what you do when you love somebody.” 

Hawkins was a small town. The day Eddie Munson finally went on his first date since your breakup, you were bound to hear about it. It was simply inevitable. But you had never expected having to see it happen, rather than just hear about it. 

You were out for coffee with your best friend, listening to her rambles as she caught you up on the town’s latest gossip, when her gaze lifted to the door where the bell had just signaled new customers and her entire demeanor changed. 

“And then, I told her-” she pauses mid-sentence, eyes widening before they land on you, going impossibly soft, “Oh dear.” 

“You told her, ‘oh dear’? That’s not a very appropriate response,” you laugh softly, heart not in it. Your eyes were glued to your cup of coffee before you that had long since gone cold. 

Her silence is what gets your attention, forcing you to finally look up and see the wounded look she’s sending you. 

Your stomach drops, “What?” 

You turn, impossibly fast, in your chair to catch sight of what had elicited the reaction. She tries to reach out and grab your arm to stop you but she’s too late - you catch sight of him, of her, before her nimble hand even stood a chance. 

“Oh.” 

It’s the only response you can muster when you see them. He looks happy, and you wish that it didn’t stir such bitter emotions in your chest. But you’re still hurt, still reeling, from when he broke it off. Him. Not you. 

You suppose, considering that, it makes sense that he’s the first to move on. 

You just never expected to watch it happen in real time. To watch him stand there, some blonde hanging onto his arm and every last word. To watch his smile spread as he whispered to the girl, the tell-tale signs of his nervous flirting present. You should know - you were once on the receiving end of it all. 

It doesn’t take him long to return your stare. His eyes are glancing around the room, but they’re drawn to you almost immediately. You watch as all the color and charisma drains from his face. 

“Y/N?” your friend attempts to regain your attention, “Y/N.” 

Her hand on your forearm is what makes you break eye contact first. You recognized the girl; she was a frequent at the Hideout. You’d seen her at numerous shows. It made sense, really, for him to end up with someone like her. You told yourself you couldn’t be mad. You told yourself you couldn’t be jealous. 

But it all burns the same, even as you try to focus on your friend’s words, who’s only goal now was to distract you. It still strikes you like lightning down your spine every time you hear the girl’s giggle at another one of his bad jokes. All you can do is wonder if he’s using all the same lines on her as he had once used on you. 

You don’t look back again. You never catch the mirrored heartbreak in his own eyes. 

Later that evening, you’re back home. You’ve gone through a meticulous night routine you only saved for special occasions: a ridiculously long, hot shower, an over-abundant face routine, an indulgent glass of wine or two. You do everything in your power to distract yourself and erase the memory of Eddie with the blonde girl. You don’t even know her name, but you fear you’re coming around to hating her. 

Jealousy. What a nasty, awful emotion that leads to such nasty, awful opinions of others. 

You almost don’t hear the sound of your doorbell as you light a few candles in your room. New ones, ones you’d bought after the breakup. They weren’t the usual kind of scent you’d enjoy, nothing sweet about them, because those were the kinds that Eddie also loved. 

When you don’t answer to the doorbell, the random visiter resorts to rapid knocking, and that does get your attention. The succession of pounding becomes incessant as you rush to the front door.

“Coming! I’m coming, jesus christ,” you mumble under your breath as you finally reach the door, not even bothering to check who it was through the peephole. 

The last person you expect to see in your doorway is Eddie. 

You can’t speak at first, staring at him in shock. Your tongue and hands become foreign things that make no move to do so much as greet him. 

“Hi,” he nervously breathes out, doe eyes as wide as yours, almost as if he didn’t expect you to be the person on the other side of the door despite the fact that this was your apartment. His hands are shoved deep into his pockets as he nervously rocks on the balls of his feet, “Can I, uh- Can I come in?” 

You’re still speechless as you step to the side, motioning for him to enter the threshold. 

How many times have you played out this scenario in your head for the last month? How many nights had you helplessly wished that he would show up on your doorstep, a fist full of red roses and mouth full of apologies? 

It’s odd watching him look so out of place in your living room, given that just a month ago, he had fit in perfectly. He’s stiff as he sits on the edge of your couch rather than flopping down as he used to. He fiddles with his hands instead of reaching out for you as he once would. The stark contrast is heavy and deafening. 

“Would you like anything to drink?” you nervously spit out once you close the door behind you two, unsure of what else to say and letting you polite mannerisms take the reigns, “Water, coke, beer? I think I still have some beer in the fridge from-” 

You cut yourself off, a lump in your throat preventing you from finishing that sentence. 

From when we were dating. 

“I’m good, thank you,” he shakes his head, and those messy curls of his are falling in waves around his shoulders. They look frizzier than they had the last time you ran your fingers through them, “I actually came to talk.” 

Oh, God. 

Having an ex show up unannounced to ‘talk’ could never end well, especially not when you were still reeling in the aftermath of the relationship. You thought a month would be all the time you need to heal, but as you stand in front of Eddie, you feel every wound rip itself back open. You feel as though you’re bleeding out, all over the hardwood floors of your living room, and you’re the only one who can see the blood. Eddie is clueless - it’s not his problem anymore. You’re not his problem anymore. 

“Right, of course,” you whisper before clearing your throat, “Talk. Yeah, we can talk.” 

He looks up at you before his eyes subtly flit to the empty seat on the couch beside him, a silent motion for you to sit. You listen, and he waits until you’re settled to continue, “Right, so… obviously, you saw me today.” 

Your stomach twists painfully. You have to pinch the skin on the back of your hand painfully hard to keep from screaming out loud, because of course, he wants to talk about the fact that he’s moved on. 

“Yep,” you awkwardly nod, chewing on your inner cheek. 

“Please look at me,” he finally sighs, and it’s only then when you do exactly that, that you see this isn’t a bragging moment. He isn’t here to inform you that he’s won, that he’s moved on and doing lightyears better than you ever could, “It isn’t what you think it was.”

“What was it then?” you croak, letting your emotions finally get the best of you, “Because it looked a lot like a first date to me. Which, don’t get me wrong, is fine. She looked nice, I guess. And it’s fine if you’re moving on but-”

“All I could think about was you,” he blurts out, efficiently cutting you off, “Fuck. All I could do was think of you, and compare her to you. She was telling me all about her childhood dog, and all I could think about was how you’re a cat person. She ordered her coffee and all I could think about was how her order would be too sweet for you. She told me a joke, and all I could think of was how your jokes were funnier. Every single thing she did, every single thing she said - it all led me back to you.” 

As he finishes his speech, he’s breathless. You both stare at each other for only a moment, letting his words settle into the silence engulfing the two of you. 

“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t fair,” he whispers, and you both find yourselves scooting closer to each other, “I know I called it off. But you know I had my reasons.” 

He did. You both knew exactly why it all ended how it did.

You couldn’t tell him you love him. Six months went down the drain all because you couldn’t say three little words. He’d been patient, waiting two months after he first said the words, eager to hear them fall from your lips. But for the life of you, you could never bring them to roll off your tongue - every time you tried to say them, they got stuck in the back of your throat, dying without so much as a whisper. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him - God, you loved him so much it nearly broke you. And when he ended things, you only realized it more with each morning dawn that would break without him by your side. You had tried to show it in your own way. You had tried to tell him through soft traces over his lips every time you woke up before him, with small gestures like getting him something from the store just because. You’d tried to pour the silent confession into every kiss and every compliment you impulsively gave him. 

But it wasn’t enough; he had needed to hear those words from you, and you hadn’t been able to give him that. 

“I know,” you say, voice faint and broken as your eyes flutter shut, “I know, and I-I’m sorry.”

The fight that had ended it all replayed in your head, clear as day. 

“Why can’t you say it?” he had cried, “Do you not love me?” 

“It’s not that,” you had begged, “I do. I promise, I do.”

“Then say it. Please.” 

When you hadn’t complied with his simple request, it was over. He left that night, you assumed to never return. It’s funny how once he was gone, it all became painfully clear - you loved him. You love him. All the feelings remain as he sits in front of you, looking as broken as you felt in the moment. 

You think if he asked you again, you’d be able to say it this time. You’d finally find the words after all the sleepless nights and all the terrible regrets. But you had always assumed it was too little, too late. 

“Did you love me?” his voice cracks in the slightest as he asks the question, “You don’t have to say it, but I need to know. Did you really mean it when you said that you did?” 

The acceptance of defeat is so clear in his face, your heart is breaking all over again. 

He doesn’t expect to hear those three words, but he wants closure. Maybe he’s convinced that if you say you didn’t, that that’s why the words never came fell from your lips, that he can finally move on. 

But he’s asked you again, and this time, you refuse to let the words fall victim the tomb of your mind. 

“Yes,” you start, and you watch him tense, looking down at the floor as he grips his hands together impossibly tight. All you focus on is his white knuckles as you whisper out the three words you both needed to hear, “I love you.” 

He chokes up, head shooting up as his eyes find yours, “What?”

“I love you. I loved you. I will continue to love you,” your voice is stronger as you repeat the words over and over, your chest suddenly light, “Eddie, I’m so sorry I never said it when you asked. I swear, it’s not that I didn’t. I just- I was fucking petrified, you know? Every time I wanted to say it, I froze, but I do. I love you. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with mys-” 

He cuts you off, surging forward and kissing you hard. The space between you is erased as he grabs your hips, pulling you to him quickly. His hands cradle your face with such care, you could cry if you focus on it too much. 

“Say it again,” he pleads, pulling away with a gasp and staring into your eyes, “Please,” another chaste kiss is pressed against your wet lips, “Say it again.”

“I love you,” you say it with ease this time. A smile breaks out across your lips as you straddle him, and a grin to match lights up his own face, “I love you, Edward Munson. So goddamn much.” 

You mean it. You always meant it, but you understand now - hearing it outloud is so much better than the silent confessions. 

He takes a careful hand, threading it through your hair as he pushes it back from the side of your face. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, I love you too, you fucking idiot.”

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett, @realmackross TIME: Afternoon, September 16th SUMMARY: Alex visits Monty's farm and is surprised to find Mackenzie there. The two have a long needed heart-to-heart. WARNINGS: mental health tw, suicidal ideation tw, murder mention tw, death mention tw PREVIOUS THREADS:1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - Current.

The more information that seemed to come out surrounding Mackenzie’s reign of terror had made her want to disappear even more and never resurface again. Whatever the Flats had done to her had taught the young zombie never to question the potential power anything had in Wicked’s Rest ever again. How could she go out and face a town full of people she had tried to make into a meal? Especially the ones she had made into a meal. Who had seen her? What news was out in the world? She had so many questions, but like everything else in her life, she knew she couldn’t keep forcing it down.

Monty had been so kind as to let her stay hidden at his farm while she rested and tried to recoup from an illness that had not been fun at all. But if she were going to eventually face the outside world again, she was going to need someone on her side. Winter had made it clear that she didn’t want to be around Mackenzie anymore, which meant there was one person left that she felt like she could trust enough to tell the truth. Otherwise it was just going to be her and…

“Taylor, no. I’m not leaving yet. I’m not ready. I’m okay. Yeah. Just tell my parents I’m fine. I don’t know. Maybe I was preparing for another movie? Yeah, yeah. No. I have everything I need. Thank you.” With a soft, quivering sigh, Mackenzie hung up the phone and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans.

—

Stopping by the farm hadn’t been entirely planned, but when she found herself in Gatlin Fields anyway because of a hankering for spiced apple cider, it only seemed natural to stop by and see Monty. Maybe Alex also wanted to see the kids, but who could really blame her for that one? Baby goats were damn cute. Maybe part of her hoped it’d be a good time to bring up his lack of heartbeat. It felt like something to broach with him first rather than her cousin and she was curious. 

Despite the fact Alex knew that he probably didn’t need a beverage given the lack of heartbeat, she still brought one along with her. Aria didn’t need to eat real food and she still enjoyed candy. Even Mack liked to snack on normal food sometimes even if it tasted like bland. So she was mostly confident in her decision to bring Monty a warm, spiced apple cider as well. It was manners or something. 

However, as she walked up the field toward the farm itself, she heard a familiar voice that wasn’t Monty’s. Hell, it wasn’t even Kaden’s which would have also not surprised her though she would have of course had to lightly tease her cousin. That would have made more sense than it being Mack. She couldn’t think of a reason why Mack would be on a cattle farm of all places. Hollywood actress to hanging around a place that smelled like manure was a pretty big jump, but she followed the sound of the voice anyway only to find Mack hanging up the phone. 

“Uh,” Alex started with a confused look on her face, “Hey?” Her head tilted as she looked at Mack who somehow didn’t look completely out of place on a farm… not that she looked like a farmhand either, but this definitely wasn’t that one crappy reality show with heiresses she saw five minutes of on TV once. “Wasn’t expecting to find you here,” she hesitated, “You’re not diving into reality TV, are you? Think you’re a little too down to earth for the whole city to farm girl thing…” 

—

Mackenzie was struggling. There was still so much that was unknown. What kind of havoc and pure hell had she caused all over town? Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she thought. Maybe it was all in her brain, and she had stayed in one small area and feasted on wildlife. It made sense right? She was super sick when she had come to Monty, and zombies did need human brains to survive. That had to be it. Maybe if she could just live in the land of denial just a little longer, she’d be set.

“Huh?” Okay, if this was a mythical land she liked to call her own, it sure as hell sounded a lot like, “Alex? What are you doing here?” Mackenzie’s face had held so much confusion. Had Winter or Monty told the werewolf about the zombie being here? If so, she would have a word with whoever it was, "Did Winter…or Monty say something to you?” It couldn’t have been Elora, because she barely knew Elora. Maybe it had been Winter. Maybe she had still cared, and it wasn’t as bad as…No, there was no way Winter was just going to let Brody’s death go like that.

—

Clearly, both of them were confused about the other’s presence on the farm. Alex hadn’t even known that Mack knew Monty. Hell, if he wasn’t her cousin’s boyfriend, she probably wouldn’t be dropping in to visit the goats with apple cider for them just for funsies on her way home from class. Her head tilted to the side as they shared a bewildered look. “Huh,” she asked, “Winter? Monty? No… I didn’t know you were even here.” 

She held up the two paper cups with the apple cider and a bit of a shrug. “Monty is Kaden’s boyfriend,” Alex explained, “Was mostly dropping in to visit the baby goats. Cilantro and Jalapeno are kind of my besties.” She offered a somewhat awkward smile as she was still thrown off guard by running into her friend. “Wasn’t expecting to run into my person-shaped bestie, too. What are you doing here anyway?”

—

Though Mackenzie was still slightly confused, there was a part of her that was somewhat relieved to see Alex standing in front of her. It was better than having Winter come back and say what she had probably wanted to say after a night of sleeping on the information that Mackenzie had revealed to her, “Oh…Well, hey!” Her voice was still uneasy. Did Alex know about the stuff in town? Did Mackenzie even make it into town? Maybe this had been her opportunity to get some answers.

Mackenzie’s eyes drifted to the paper cups and back to Alex, “Oh. Oh! I didn’t see that one coming.” So love as a zombie was possible, if you were experienced and had lived as long as Monty, but Monty was a great person, and he deserved happiness, “Good for them. And I haven’t seen the baby goats, but Monty got me a llama. She’s outback in one of the pastures. I named her Sallama Gomez. Um, but, yea.” The zombie paused, before speaking again, “Uh, did anything weird happen in town this past week?” She had felt odd after everything that had happened after the Flats and before the Flats, during their second sleepover which had turned super awkward, and she had hoped that Alex had been okay after everything that had happened.

—

“Surprised me too,” Alex laughed, still a little uneasy. She couldn’t place it, but something felt off. There was something about the vibe that just felt off. It was like looking at an incomplete puzzle with no reference photo— she wasn’t even sure what pieces she was trying to put together, but none of them were slotting into place. “They’re pretty cute.” That much was true. 

“Sallama Gomez,” she perked up, “She’s just like Taylor for real… doing anything to bring up Selena Gomez.” The strange energy was still sitting between them and only seemed to become more apparent when Mack asked about stuff happening in town. Admittedly, Alex had been a little bit checked out between catching up on school work and working on practicing shifting. “Uh, weird how? There’s literally always weird shit happening in this place,” she answered with a confused crease in her brows, “I’ve been playing catch up with school after well… getting shot. Why did something happen? Did the weird thing happen to you? What’s going on, Mack?” 

A concerned look flashed across her features. “Something feels off here,” Alex explained, “I don’t know what, but you can talk to me. You know that, right?” 

—

Mackenzie’s entire energy had been off since coming out of her zombie trance. She had even felt it the day before with Winter, but the woman hadn’t given her long enough to actually have a conversation without leaving in a flash, “I’ll have to go see them. The goats, I mean. Not Monty and Kaden. And yeah, I wanted something cute, and Sallama Gomez it was. Maybe you can convince Monty to get another llama, Tayllama Swift, and they can be besties.” She laughed softly, but her mind was racing.

“Right? How are you? Are you doing better? You look better.” Mackenzie gave Alex a look over. She did look much better than the last time she had seen her. She seemed happier and like life was maybe getting back on track. But Mackenzie was putting off the inevitable for fear of losing another friend. She couldn’t take a double friendship hit in the course of two days. She just couldn’t, but Alex was onto her. The werewolf could tell something was up, “I know. I know…”

Mackenzie looked down to find her leg shaking and immediately stopped it, but the suspicion hung heavy in the air, “Something big happened. But I can’t remember what it was. I just know when I came out of it, I was in the back of someone’s truck being brought here.” She had looked at the social media as Winter had suggested and had seen a few things, but it all had been related to some wild animal, which she had wondered if it was her, “And I told Winter something, and now I think our friendship is over.” The zombie’s eyes were blank as she was now staring past Alex instead of looking at her like she had been earlier.

—

There was something akin to comfort to be found in the llama jokes the girls exchanged. Alex had always relied heavily on humor in difficult moments and while she knew it wasn’t necessarily her best trait, it was nice to share with Mack. They could ease themselves into the moment of whatever was coming. Even if it was apparent by the way the air between them felt almost thick that the zombie was carrying something heavy, they could ease themselves into the harder topics like one would slowly enter a cool pool on a hot summer day. Not that she ever did that. She was much more likely to dive straight into ice cold water before anyone would notice the wet dog smell was in fact coming from her. 

“Tayllama Swift,” she smiled weakly, “Now the goat remix of I Knew You Were Trouble makes so much more sense.” Which admittedly, that remix had no business slapping as much as it did, but that was hardly the point. The joke brought a small bit of brevity along with it which seemed all the more necessary as Mack spoke again. Alex made a concerted effort to keep her brows from knitting together in confusion. While she wasn’t well-versed in the undead, she didn’t think they randomly lost their memories like new werewolves did during a shift. She observed the zombie as she spoke, looking for hints of what could have happened. “Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out, okay,” she assured. 

When Kaden had come home covered in blood that she knew was the hunter’s, Alex had made a promise to herself to immerse herself more in the supernatural circle she’d found. Looking out for each other felt less like asking someone to fight on both sides of a war they never asked to be a part of. Neither she nor Mack asked to be part of the supernatural either, but they were already placed squarely on one side of the battlefield. There would always be people who killed them simply for what they were and there would always be whole wars fought internally as they fought with themselves. Most days, it was still a fight for her to put those intrusive thoughts in the back of her mind and she had been at this for 13 years. This was all still new to Mack and something big had happened. While she couldn’t piece together exactly what based on the zombie’s condition, the way she held herself gave some hints. As much as Alex loved Mack, she knew both of them were dangerous. 

“What did you tell Winter,” Alex asked softly as she took a seat on one of the hay bales sitting around. She patted the spot beside her indicating for Mack to join her. The zombie’s eyes were no longer meeting hers and being side-by-side at least naturally gave some reason for that while allowing them to be close enough for Alex to offer comfort. She could make some guesses about what would be big enough to end a friendship, but this was Mack’s story to tell. Whatever it was, Winter had turned her away and that had to hurt. Even if it was the worst case scenario, Alex knew she had to be supportive. If Mack was going to get through being a new zombie and figure any of this out, she needed someone in her corner and Alex wanted to be in her corner. No matter what Mack had done, she was still kind and caring. Something that happened to her and made her something that had to fight for control didn’t just erase all of that. “I think,” she hummed, “Maybe talking about it could help… and I won’t leave you. Whatever it is, you’re still my best friend, ok?” 

And she found she meant it. Alex had never had a best friend and had never even used the phrase so earnestly before, but it felt important that Mack knew she was gonna be here no matter what. 

—

Since coming to Wicked’s Rest, Mackenzie had never imagined she would have made friends like she had, especially a best friend with a werewolf. Of course, the finding out of the werewolf part didn’t come until later, but to have made such a close friend so fast had been like a miracle. Mackenzie had spent most of her life just trying to figure out who was genuine and who wasn’t, but after the tragedy with Brody, she had truly believed that she shouldn’t have been around anyone. To care about people as a brain eating monster had been contradictory, and her worst nightmares had been proven true not even two years into her new and horrific life. But the day that Mack had met Alex, something just clicked. Her humor, but also her humbleness and kindness, especially after the mime prank had proven that she was real. It had just been a bonus that she didn’t know anything about the actress.

The real test of friendship, though, had seemed to have come when Alex found out what Mackenzie was in the worst possible way, and still loved her for it. And like any real friendship, Mack knew that not every moment was going to be perfect or easy, like sleepover part two, but the fact that Alex was still around and they had somehow managed to still have fun said a lot.

“I love that video…” It was really all she could muster in the moment in a way of humor. The awkwardness that was hanging in the air felt like it was suffocating her, and she finally decided to give into Alex’s offer.

Taking a seat next to the werewolf, Mackenzie’s leg started to shake again. She was blinded by the thoughts in her mind and everything around her seemed so bright like she wanted to pass out, but couldn’t. Like it was all a nightmare. Like her entire life had been one big, neverending nightmare and she just wanted to wake up from it, “I killed him. I killed Brody.” She had spoken the exact same words she had told Winter the day before. If Alex wanted to run, Mackenzie couldn’t blame her, but she also knew that if she did, then Wicked’s Rest was going to be just another thing of the past. “I don’t remember how it happened. I just remember coming home that night, and he was standing in the doorway waiting on me, but I was so hungry. And when I came to. When I could remember things again…he was dead.”

She looked down at the ground searching for any miniscule thing she could hold onto with her eyes. Put her focus on while she waited for Alex to be disgusted with her and take off. Her heart was fragile. From waking up at Monty’s knowing something horrible had happened to losing Winter to now confessing what she did to Alex it had all happened so fast, and she had wanted the sky to open up right then and there and strike her down in her unnatural undead life, so it would finally all be over with. 

—

When Mack finally took the seat next to her, Alex felt a small wave of relief. There was so much tension hanging in the air and the small gesture of taking the seat beside her relieved some of that. Whatever it was that was weighing so heavily on her friend, she knew she’d do whatever she could to help, even if the only thing she could do was just be there. Even if that never felt like enough to give, she knew firsthand what a difference it could make when someone stuck around through the hard parts. She could feel the way Mack’s leg shook and she knew that whatever came next, wasn’t going to be easy. Seeing her friend hurting this way wasn’t easy, but Mack had sat by her side watching shitty movies when Alex was the one hurting and making mistakes. She knew she hadn’t made it easy either by trying to write the whole attack off as no big deal, but Mack was still there and glad to offer whatever she could in the way of support. Because that’s what friends did and it was Alex’s turn to be a good friend now. 

The confession was followed by silence for a moment. Alex wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but admittedly violence or some sort of zombie related accident had been at the forefront of her mind. This was in line with that but somehow so much heavier at the same time. Her hand found Mack’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. It was hardly anything in the midst of what she had just confessed, but it was all she could do. Death was hard enough as it was, but having caused the death of the person you loved? She couldn’t imagine how much that weight had been crushing Mack all this time. 

“Mack,” she breathed in practically a whisper, “I’m so sorry.” The words felt silly. She’d heard them enough time over the course of her own life and it felt just as awkward from the other side. Grief was tricky to navigate that way, but this was bigger still. Alex spent most of her life feeling like a monster because of what she was and Mack had been thrown into being something she never asked for and it cost her so much. Suddenly, abandoning a family legacy felt so incredibly small in comparison. “You didn’t know, ok,” she said carefully, “You were thrown into being a zombie with no warning or preparation… you couldn’t have known.”

Alex gently wrapped her arms around Mack and held onto her friend tightly knowing that it’d take a really tight hug for the zombie to really feel it. It didn’t fix anything, nothing could ever fix death or erase the grief and guilt that followed it, but she hoped it told her friend that no matter what, she’d be right here whenever Mack needed her— that there was no mistake too big that would make her turn her back on the girl who had become her closest friend. “I know nothing fixes what happened,” she murmured, “Or bring Brody back, but I’m not going anywhere, ok? I know you’re not bad even if right now it might feel like you are.” 

—

Mackenzie was scared. In fact, she had been living her life in fear since the day she had become a zombie. Ironic - a monster living in fear. But it had become the new normal for her. Watching her back everywhere she went. Holing up in her house and trying to avoid being around people. For someone who had lived such a social life to just stop had been nearly impossible. It hadn’t just been a physical death. It had been a mental death as well, but one that she couldn’t exactly show. Not in public anyways. She always had to be as well put together as possible. Fake a smile for her fans and the people around her. It was all one sick and twisted game, and it was finally starting to break her.

But the simple gesture of Alex putting her hand on Mackenzie’s shoulder had meant something. It meant she wasn't alone. It meant that Alex wasn’t planning on leaving her behind. She was still there. It was the hug that solidified everything. The hug that made the zombie fully breakdown and sob. She hadn’t cried like this around anyone in a long time, and as much as she wanted to stop, she couldn’t. Instead, she wrapped her arms tightly around Alex and refused to let go, “I promise I didn’t mean to kill him. I know what I am is against everything ever created, and I wish that the fall had killed me the first time…Then he’d still be alive. Then Brody would still be here. The PA, everybody else I’ve hurt…They’d all still be alive, Alex. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt them…” She confessed it all into Alex’s shoulder, her face buried from shame of what she had done, despite it being out of her control.

Her heart had been breaking for a long time, and whatever this week had been had finally driven her to a release. Anything that was coming out had to be cathartic right? The weight of carrying around so much death and destruction somewhat being out in the open. But there were still the consequences of her actions. How was she going to face that? You couldn’t just throw a zombie in prison could you? But maybe being driven mad by lack of food and the same dark, dank little cell was what she deserved for the rest of her undead life.

Pulling away from Alex and looking at her with hazy eyes, Mackenzie spoke, “What do I do Alex? I’m responsible for people dying. Do I turn myself in? Do I run again? I don’t know what to do anymore?” She wiped her eyes and looked back down at the floor; her posture slumped in defeat. Mackenzie didn’t want to keep going at this point for fear of what she was capable of.

—

The only thing Alex could do was hold Mack while she cried. Mistakes weren’t something that could simply be undone, especially when they ended in death, but she had to believe that moving forward and being better was possible. If it wasn’t, why were either of them even here? If her parents were to be believed, neither of them should be here, but that didn’t feel quite right either. Maybe there wasn’t a clear right answer, but holding her friend while she sobbed and processed the weight of what she had done felt like it was the right thing to do. She clung on tightly to her friend and tried to be something of an anchor with her tight grip. Her heart hurt for Mack, how she got thrown into this crazy supernatural world and found herself unmoored within. It was scary, it made you doubt everything you ever knew about yourself— she wanted so badly for Mack to not have to deal with any of it, but that wasn’t the way the world worked. 

Alex stroked the back of her friend’s head and ran her hand through the short blonde tresses. She remembered Andy would do the same when she cried as a kid and it always felt comforting then. She could only hope it had the same effect for Mack whose world had all but fallen apart the day she died. It wasn’t the same, but maybe part of her could understand that, a bigger part than she really wanted to admit. The hurt that Mack felt now— the werewolf knew part of it would always stay with her. It wouldn’t feel as crushing all the time, sure, but it would always be there and able to bring the zombie to her knees as the wave hit her. She hated that her friend had to know that kind of hurt that lingered so long that it eventually became a part of her. Her own eyes turned misty as she whispered, “I know you didn’t, I know.” 

The pain in Mack’s voice was so raw that it practically gutted her and Alex was only a bystander to it. She hadn’t lived it, but something in the way Mack wished she had stayed dead that day struck a chord. How many times had she wished the bite that turned her into a monster had just killed her instead? When had she stopped wishing that? She held Mack a little tighter. “Maybe, maybe not,” she offered gently, “Things could have gone a lot of different ways and it sucks that this is the way they went. It really really does. But you’re here now and maybe there’s no changing what happened, but you can still make it count.” 

Or maybe she didn’t even need to make it count. Alex wasn’t really sure. She’d spent so long trying to justify her own existence to herself that it was hard to separate the tangled threads of who she was and how she felt from the broken record of everything her parents taught her that still played like an echo in the darkest corners of her mind. 

When Mack pulled away, their eyes met for a moment and Alex felt herself tenderly searching her friend for signs of what she needed. She was asking for advice and next steps. Part of it scared the werewolf. She hardly had all the answers as much as she liked to pretend nothing fazed her. Mack was looking at the floor again and Alex pondered for a moment what was the best way forward. “You can’t turn yourself in,” she began. That much she knew with certainty. “Zombie in prison is kind of a recipe for disaster and a lot more dead bodies,” she explained, “But I don’t think you have to run either. Don’t think you’ll find another town as weird as this one anyway.” 

But what was the answer? What would give Mack some meaning to her life after death? Alex wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think acting was going to be it. That much attention on Mack and eventually someone would notice she wasn’t aging. It felt unfair that it was yet another part of her life that Mack had to leave behind. Alex chewed at her lower lip for a moment before she finally spoke again. “I think what you do now is just… work to get a handle on the whole zombie thing and do good where you can. You’re kind, you know? That kind of thing makes more of a difference than you think. Start small, find things that give you meaning and purpose in the whole undead existence thing you kind of just got thrown into.” 

—

Mackenzie took in this moment. Absorbed all of it. The way Alex was rubbing her head. Her words. Every part of it. She had felt so lost and broken. Mackenzie had just wanted to disappear and never be seen again. The darkness that consumed her life on a regular basis was almost too much to handle on most days, and she had felt so alone for so long. But, at this moment, she wasn’t. There was somebody who cared enough to have stayed by her side.

She couldn’t fault Winter for leaving though. She knew exactly what the medium was going through. Mackenzie had become a zombie a mere two years ago and still struggled with the idea of it every day. Winter had only experienced it just recently. The supernatural world. But it still was a stab straight to her weak heart when she didn’t even give Mackenzie a chance. Instead, taking her leave with nothing but a warning about Taylor and the havoc she was wreaking on Mackenzie’s social media.

“I know you’re right.” Her voice shook with each word she spoke. “You’re right about all of it. I know the easiest thing to do would just be to give up. Which…I want to so badly. But there’s got to be something more out there for me right? Like you were saying, counteract the bad with the good?” She gave a faltering smile to Alex. Mackenzie was scared. She was afraid of what the world could do to her, but more so of what she could do to the world. The past two years had been mourning a life that was never going to be finished living. And here she sat, not sure she wanted her undead one either. But she at least had to try right? She had come this far, and if someone like Alex was willing to be there to walk alongside her and help her through it, then wasn’t that a good enough reason to stay?

[wouldnt-it-be-hilarious-if-i]

About forgiveness

Currently listening to: A Cold Night in Brooklyn by Gatlin

When I was in high school, I was friends with a girl that became one of my best friends. I met her in Zoology, and we became friends because a total protein bar of a guy said the most asinine comment anyone could have possibly said. I was sitting next to her, and she said the darkest humor joke possible. I'd repeat it but I can't remember what the joke was. I just remember she didn't think anyone heard, and I nearly fell out of my chair laughing.

We were instant friends. To this day, we are great friends, though we don't talk as much as we used to because she works and I'm in school. We connected a lot because of our trauma. We just understood each other. But there have been times in my life where I absolutely said the wrong thing at the wrong time, simply because I only know how to comfort people about things that I can wrap my head around. And death is one of those things that when I was younger, I didn't know the feeling of. It was a trauma I hadn't met yet. I was really lucky in that way.

One night, we were having a conversation about just that. And she was grieving a very real loss. It was like one trauma on top of the other, endless. And I wanted to comfort her.

That year I had lost my childhood dog, the one I practiced reading out loud with and dressed up in my cabbage patch doll dresses and loved like she was my child, who used to sleep beside my bed every night to and keep watch to make sure no one came in (this was a very real fear of mine, so it was much appreciated), and I was trying so hard to be comforting for my friend. Having lost my dog, my sister and my Oma now, I stand by the comparison for myself. But for others, it's not the same and I understand that now. And for her specific situation, it really was NOT the same. It was the wrong thing to say. I didn't realize it at the time. But she rightfully lost it at me, and she threw in the meanest, most hurtful insults at me. At first, they were the reasonable comments, where she got pissed at me for the comparison I made. Totally justified. And then there was the part of her rant that involved insults that were probably the meanest things she could have said. They had nothing to do with what I'd said.

All you do is obsess about girls who will never fucking want you. What do you know about the trauma i'm talking about? You don't have a fucking life. You never have a life.

And she said more. Paragraphs of just straight vitrol.

And then she blocked me and I never saw her at school again. She knew those were some of my biggest insecurities, so it was like a tiny bit of a gut punch. But it was also one of those blow up in your face moments where you just go, "Yeah, not my greatest friend moment." I always say that I'm one of those people who when I am right, I am VERY right. But at the same time, when I'm wrong, I'm very fucking wrong. So, so, so fucking wrong. I'm so wrong that I actually often go back and question every time I've ever been right just to be sure I'm not fucking lying to myself.

She was such a good friend to me that when she circled back around to me a few years later and friended me on Facebook, I waited for a while because I wasn't sure what she wanted. I missed my friend. I'd actually just moved on and told myself that I'd just lost that one. So, after a few days, I messaged her.

I asked if there was a reason why she'd friended me.

She told me she was sorry. That she had been a really awful friend to me, and that the things she'd said had haunted her for years. She went on and on about how she didn't expect me to forgive her, how she knew what she'd done was wrong. And I waited until she stopped typing and said everything she needed to say and said, "Of course I forgive you."

I had forgiven her the moment she said it. It was a douche thing to say comparing my dog's death to her situation, even if it was my weird little on the spectrum ass self trying so hard to relate to something I didn't understand yet on an emotional level. I still don't fully understand the loss of someone when you are child and don't have the ability or the support to handle it on your own. I've gone through a lot of trauma, and I have a lot of reasons to dislike my parent's methods, but my parents prepared me remarkably well for death. It wasn't hard for me to accept my sister's death. I cried, sure. But I'd always been told that those tears are for you, and they're valid. But they're at peace now. And it was a thought process I carried with me and still carry with me.

She was surprised when I forgave her so immediately. And even more shocked when I wanted to be her friend again instantly, and when it was easy for us to pick up where we left off.

The point of this story is a grave error that both of us made. My comparison, and her assumption that I could never forgive her. I think the gravest, most important error anyone and everyone could ever make in any relationship with me is to truly believe that I can never forgive them for something. Anything.

I forgave my sister for leaving me the moment I set foot in her funeral, and every day since, I've found another life lesson has taught me why forgiving her was wise.

I'd forgive my dad if he'd ever once just hold space for me and admit that the trauma he raised me with profoundly affected me. But he has decided that I'm not worthy of an apology, and that will forever determine our relationship.

I forgive my mom for staying with him because she understands what I've gone through, and I understand what she's gone through, and she tries every day to do better even though it's hard.

I'd forgive my oldest sister for the insults, homophobia, and constant scapegoating me to her kids to the point where they insult me using her words if she truly meant it. Or bothered trying to make a change instead of calling me overly dramatic.

I forgave one of my best friends for not understanding my mood disorder and for the amount of times she triggered me knowing what I told her would trigger an emotional response. I knew I'd been toxic, and even more importantly, I wanted our friendship to work and she did too. And it does now. It works so well, and I love that girl with every fiber of my being for that and so many more things.

Just as I am the most stubborn, argumentative, psycho bitch on the planet for like two weeks out of the month every calendar year, I am also incredibly forgiving. The problem is that people don't understand that, and they circle around for years at a time, thinking that trying is useless because I'm still angry, or what they did is something they think is unforgivable.

And it's just not true.

People hurt me often, and I hold grudges for years. Sometimes, there are people (as in almost everyone in my family, I've never felt this way about someone outside of my family) I absolutely do not want to forgive or rebuild a relationship with. But if they asked me to, and truly tried to do the work, I'm always going to be a sucker for it. But the reason isn't entirely because of what they said or did. It's because no one ever apologizes to me. And I sit there feeling that hurt of being left over and over until it festers inside of me, knowing that my pride won't let me beg. It won't let me grovel or give them those hints that I would be ready to accept an apology or call a truce. All of this while knowing that the moment they said sorry, and truly meant it, I would forgive them in an instant.

It doesn't matter who they are, or what they've said, or what they've done. Forgiveness is always an option for me. It's a core part of who I am to forgive and want to work things out. Doesn't matter how long ago it happened, or if that person thinks it's too late now, or they've missed their chance. There is no expiration date on my love for people.

And I wish more people understood that.

[littlebabyyd0ll]

clueless ! penelope

i bet she bangs like a fairy on acid 🍓

sworn protector of the five foot blonde, penelope collins is midtown’s self-proclaimed lady-lover. a character of big mind and even bigger heart, penelope collins would stop at nothing to ensure her best friend’s comfort and maintain her innocence. on the rare occasion that her eyes weren’t spiked red and her lips weren’t wrapped around a cigarette, the girl with ever-changing hair spends her days wrapped in novels and ancient literature. with a future in classics, penelope’s best interest is to fall in love, and who better at falling than gwen stacy?

penelope’s mix !

girls like girls ! hayley kiyoko

bad idea ! girl in red

babydoll ! ari abdul

never been in love ! gatlin

you & me together song ! the 1975

seen as … anya taylor joy !

[superghfan]

Austin on GENERAL HOSPITAL — Everything You Need to Know

When Franco was killed off of GENERAL HOSPITAL, fans were shocked and hoped that this was all a fake-out to trap Peter, but very quickly it was revealed that the character was, in fact, dead… but portrayer Roger Howarth was not leaving the soap! After a period of time off, Howarth was set to return in a top-secret role that had viewers speculating he’d be playing anyone from his old ONE LIFE TO LIVE character of Todd Manning to a recast of Drew Cain and everyone in between! But in the May 27, 2021, episode, Howarth made his return to GH as a doctor named Austin!

Austin first appeared hiking in the woods and stumbling upon Maxie Jones all alone and in labor! She was grateful he wasn’t Peter August and he was grateful she wasn’t a bear. Austin introduced himself and revealed he is a doctor, so she agreed to let him help bring her baby girl into the world. (Not that she had much of a choice!) Unfortunately, after Maxie delivered Louise, Austin was knocked out by Peter’s evil pawn, Nurse Jennings, who was under orders to steal the baby for him!

Rushed to General Hospital, Austin soon recovered from his injuries and promised Maxie that he would do whatever he could to locate her baby, who the mother claimed had been stolen away by Chloe. Austin helped Dante Falconeri search the area around his cabin and stopped the detective from falling into the same pit where they found Chloe’s body. He also rented out the cabin to Anna Devane and Valentin Cassadine so they could snoop around, too, and Anna recognized Austin’s father in a family photo.

The good doctor seemed to know more about Port Charles than he was letting on, and eventually met with Britt Westbourne for a job at GH, declaring he was going to be sticking around for a while. Then he hired Scott Baldwin to represent him as he appeared before the Quartermaine family to announce that he was the son of Charity Gatlin and Jimmy Lee Holt and was contesting Edward Quartermaine‘s will so he could receive the inheritance that was rightfully his.

Austin befriended Harrison Chase and used him to snoop around the Quartermaine mansion to collect the evidence that Edward had planned to put Jimmy Lee back into his will. Armed with this proof, attorney Scott Baldwin promised he could win the case and get what was owed him. Meanwhile, Austin grew concerned about Leo‘s behavior and urged Ned Quartermaine to speak with Olivia about getting their son tested to see if he was on the Autism spectrum. He also was confused as to why Maxie was spending so much time with him since she claimed he was a sad reminder of her losing her daughter.

Olivia lashed out at Austin but after Leo was diagnosed with Autism, she later apologized and was grateful for his help. As his friendship with Britt Westbourne grew, Austin confided to her that his brother was on the spectrum. Austin tried to help Maxie remember more about the night Louise went missing after her birth only to have her try and distract him with a kiss! He eventually put the pieces together and realized that Bailey was really Louise. Unfortunately, he inadvertently helped Victor Cassadine reach that same conclusion which led to Peter abducting the baby! Thankfully, the villain met his fate and Maxie was reunited with Bailey Louise. She forgave Austin for his slip up, and he wondered if they might have a future together.

Austin and Maxie’s relationship continued to develop but things got complicated when his past caught up with him. A mysterious man met up with him on The Haunted Star and warned him that his mission had failed and he needed to return to the fold. After backing out of a weekend with Maxie and the kids to attend to “business” in Pautauk, Austin was upset when the mystery man showed up in Port Charles again. He introduced him as his cousin, Mason, but wouldn’t say much more.

x

[banditcoyote]

Tuesday with Thom

“You sure you have time for this?” Thom asked already unfolding her beach chair and nearly knocking over her spiked lemonade in the process. “I know you got some days on the road ahead of you, you kind of crunched your time huh?”

“Absolutely.” Coyote answered easily, already picking up a bale of hay like it was a bag of groceries and moving it to the back of the loft. Thom raised her eyebrows in appreciation of this strength. “Yeah, I did, but it was more than worth it, besides this won’t take me longer than an hour, tops.” Coyote told her as he pushed it tight into the corner.

Thom laughed and reclined in her spot in the hay loft, she thought about sliding her sunglasses down on her face, but decided to keep the shades up to admire the way Coyote moved about with such ease. The heat of the summer already causing his t-shirt to cling to his muscular physique with sweat. He might have been her ex, her current lover’s father, and the mate of her best friend, but Thom was still a woman and there was nothing wrong with appreciating a view. “You know, all those years of you and Gatlin coming by here, I can’t believe you made such a show of hiding this strength.”

Coyote grabbed a bale with each hand and laid them against the other ones. “Couldn’t get anything done too fast even if you weren’t watching,” he pointed out “What would we do just sit around and wait an appropriate amount of time?”

Thom nodded “I guess that’s true….” She held her straw up to her lips and took a sip. “So tell me about Sasuga fighting! This is the first time you saw her right?” she said looking for some gossip.

Coyote lit right up, a smile stretching across his face. Thom slipped her phone from her pocket and did her best to sneak a photo, knowing that Sasuga would love to see how proud her man was of her, just at the mere mention of her name. “I saw her fight before…uh….one of the first few times I met her.” Coyote’s face turned a bright shade of red and Thom zoomed in quick and got a perfect angled picture before Coyote lifted another hay bale to block the shot. Thom smirked and put her phone down, satisfied for the moment. “But that before we were really anything” just before. Coyote thought “so I thought she was good, but this time she got some new armor, and she was really driven….I actually have a couple shots I can show you after.”

“That would be awesome. I’ve seen her model, obviously” Thom said “But I haven’t really seen that other side of her, I can’t wait.  So what about the rest of the time, were you doing press with her? How much personal time did you get?” she asked with a little tone to her voice heavily hinting that she was looking for some dirty details.

Coyote shot her a warning glance, but it was clear he was amused by it, “Have you been texting with Shishi?” he knew the pair had hit it off when he was here and her attitude now somewhat reminded him of Sasuga’s meddling uncle. She only smirked in response and waggled her eyebrows looking for an answer. Coyote took a breath “We had plenty of personal time, but not nearly enough. Leaving was hard, real hard, and there were a couple things we argued about, which was really not how I wanted to spend our time…”

Thom snapped to attention “Argument?” she wondered what it could be, she knew from their heart to hearts that Sasuga really had her mind set on two things, marriage and children, two things that could be big deal breakers.

Coyote sighed a big and rubbed the back of his neck. “She wants to get a house…” Thom thought this was curious as Coyote’s house was nothing short of amazing, and as she opened her mouth to ask further questions Coyote continued “In Japan” Thom promptly shut her mouth and let that sink in for a second, then moved to sip her lemonade without comment. “Yeah.” Coyote added and throwing a hay bale with a bit more strength than may have been necessary.

“Don’t bust any of those now….” Thom said softly, sensing his frustrations and still trying to make heads or tails. Coyote murmured an apology, understanding he was letting emotions get the best of him. “Japan huh….like permanently?”

Coyote shook his head quickly. “No, just like, a summer house, she had a little apartment there, it was nice, I liked it, rooftop entrance for us and everything. A bed that hung from the ceiling.” The corners of his lips turned up again, remembering their reunion back in June. His tail wagged a little, and Thom was glad to see he was back to reminiscing. “But she wasn’t somewhere a bit more private, which I get, she cant hide like I can, I know she just wants to be herself in her own place without worrying about people coming around, even my place, outside you gotta be careful none of the ranch hands are getting too close to the house.”

Thom sat up a little. “Wait, so she just wants like…a vacation house for you two?” she clarified.

“Yeah.” He said with a nod.

Thom blinked for a moment. “Okay. So whats the big problem?”

Coyote turned after he placed another bale down and stared at her for a moment. “It’s in Japan.”

Thom stared back. “Do we-……Do we not like Japan?” she asked still confused.

Coyote gave half a shake of his head “It’s just….it’s far.”

Thom tilted her head for a bit. “Okay….afraid of flying?”  she said stirring the ice in her drink with her straw.

Coyote knew Sasuga couldn’t, or wouldn’t, fly but that wasn’t the point of the conversation so he didn’t bring it up “No….it’s just.” He sighed. “I feel like I’ve been real distracted…I love Sasuga, I love her so much, it’s hard to focus on the ranch when shes around and I feel like I’ve been really neglecting the staff and Preacher and Poncho. I don’t want to just…abandon everything I’ve built here. You know I’ve been a part of this community and I don’t want to become a hermit because all I want to do is hang out with my wife all day in my house, I don’t want to be a rich asshole like other ranchers, I like working and I like being around people and in town. But I feel bad that Sasuga feels like an outsider here, and I’m not sure how to bring her into the community, I want to make sure she’s comfortable like I am and-“ Coyote paused looking at Thom who was grinning ear to ear. “What?” he asked wondering what thought was going on her head.

Thom pressed her hand to her heart. “You called her your wife.” She cooed.

Coyote’s face went red again and he picked up a bale so he had an excuse to turn his back to her. “Well….ya know…..eventually….” he said trying to avoid the topic even though he had let it slip, and he was glad that Sasuga wasn’t around to hear him, less the two girls start shrieking about it together.

Thom gasped and nearly jumped out of her chair. “You didn’t propose to her in demon world did you?!” she asked entirely offended. “I swear to God if she comes back and there is a ring on her finger and you didn’t tell me. I swear Coyote Jones I’ll….well I don’t know what I’ll do but I swear I’ll-“

Coyote held up his hands and laughed a bit. “No…No I didn’t.” he said trying to calm Thom down. “It hasn’t even really been a year yet.” He reminded her.

“So?” She said with a shrug. “You’re already mated right? And Cal and I have barely dated for a year and-“

It was Coyote’s turn to interject “Cal Propose to you?” he asked quickly.

The blush that rushed to Thom’s cheeks was a perfect mirror to the one that had only left Coyote’s. “N-No.” she said with a little shake of her head and she pulled her lemonade to her mouth. “but I know that if I did I’d say yes.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.” He said matter of factly.

“Coyote! You better not!” she said grabbing a handful of loose straw from the loft floor and tossing it fruitlessly in his direction.

“Then you better not tell Sasuga bout this either!” he said with as much threat as she had in her voice. “Fine.” She said falling back in her chair defiantly.

“Fine.” Coyote said with a nod. The silence that fell between them was like a blanket. “You’d think she’d say yes?” he asked quietly.

Thom nodded “I know she would.” She took a sip “You planning on it?”

Coyote puffed out his cheeks. He knew the answer to this but there was no way he could tell Thom, she was Sasuga’s best friend here, and was getting close with Shishi, he knew the three of them together couldn’t help but gossip so letting anything slip, even as much as he had now, was a bit dangerous. “I was thinking about buying her a horse.”

Thom nearly choked on the mouthful of her cocktail. “You’re gonna propose to her with a horse?” she coughed out.

Coyote laughed heartily “No! No. Just something of her own to make her feel at home, I was thinking one of those Gypsy Vanners, I know they’re big and strong but she could handle it as long as she had a connection with the animal, and they’re so pretty.”

Thom understood they were fully changing the subject even if she wasn’t entirely happy with it. “They’re beautiful.” She agreed. “I know she’d have fun with all that mane and tail.”

Coyote nodded “I know, but if she wants to go to Japan then-“

Thom nodded “I get it, it’s not really a great idea getting a pet and then leaving it all alone all the time.” Coyote nodded, glad that Thom understood that at least. “And the business is kind of suffering since you’ve been running off with her a lot? Why don’t you just tell her funds are tight and you need to focus?”

Coyote paused “No….funds have been fine, and Sasuga has all her own money, she doesn’t need mine.”

“Wait.” Thom put her hand up. “Nothing is happening with the business?” He shook his head to confirm, everything had been fine. “Coyote. Don’t be an idiot.” He blinked at her. “I’m sorry, I know you’re an idiot, and you can’t just stop being you.” She couldn’t help the barbs. “You’ve worked really hard here, and you’ve built something that’s great, you should buy a vacation house with your mate, your eventual wife, and not worry about the business. I’m sure Gatlin could step in, he has for you in the past. Or is he too busy with-?” again her tone was dripping with intention. She wanted the dirt.

Coyote nodded “Oh yeah, super busy, he’s been hooking up with Shishi and Kurama like crazy, a real uh fuck fest, they can’t keep their paws off each other, You should see the marks on Shishi, I think he’s part incubus-“

Thom’s eyes had only started to glaze over as her fantasies took over but then she shook her head. “Hey! You’re trying to change the subject. We were talking about you! Buy the damn house Coyote!” she said slapping her leg.

He rolled his eyes, he had thought he was out of the woods about the house. “I’ll go look at houses” he agreed with a nod. “Im afraid of losing all this but I’m afraid of losing her more.”

Thom made that high pitch noise that women loved to make when they thought something was adorable and his ears tipped back on his head as she pushed herself up and rushed forward with arms outstretched. He returned the hug with a little laugh.

“You’re not gonna lose us Coyote. Not if you tried.” She promised as she squeezed him as hard as she could. “We love ya too much, you’re a great guy.” She started running her hand up and down his back

“How many of those cocktails did you have before I got here?” He asked her amused

“Just two….maybe three.” She laughed and looked up into his face. “You might need to help me down the ladder. They all just went right to my head in this heat.”

He nodded “Alright. Go sit down, don’t hurt yourself, I’ll hurry this up and we’ll get you back in the A/C. Deal?”

Thom nodded with a smile “Deal.”

[rorylikeshorror25]

fictional town of Gatlin, Nebraska, an agricultural community surrounded by huge cornfields. In 1980, the town appears to be neglected except for the church, and residents choose Biblical names over more modern ones. When the corn crop fails one year, the townsfolk turn to prayer to ensure a successful harvest. However, 12-year-old Isaac Chroner takes all of the children in Gatlin into the cornfields and indoctrinates them into a religious cult based around a bloodthirsty deity called “He Who Walks Behind the Rows”. Isaac and his subordinate, 18-year-old Malachai, lead the children in a revolution, murdering all of the adults (ages 19 and up, since 18-year-olds are seen as halfway between teenager and adult) in town as human sacrifices, poisoning and butchering them. Only Job and his sister Sarah, are not involved, as Sarah was sick and Job was not allowed to attend the meetings in the corn with the other children. The opening credits reveal that Sarah has visions, portrayed through the credits via drawings.

Three years later, on October 31, 1983, Vicky Baxter and her boyfriend Burt Stanton travel through rural Nebraska on their way to Seattle, where Burt will start working as a physician. Elsewhere, a young boy named Joseph tries to flee Gatlin, but is attacked in the corn; he stumbles out into the road and Burt accidentally runs him over with his car. However, Burt discovers that his throat was cut beforehand. Burt and Vicky place Joseph and his suitcase in their trunk and search for a phone to call for help. They find elderly mechanic Diehl, the last adult in Gatlin, but he refuses them service, as he has agreed to supply the children with fuel in exchange for his life. However, the merciless Malachai breaks the pact and murders him, against Isaac's wishes, when Diehl tries to steer the couple away from Gatlin.

Vicky and Burt explore the abandoned town and find Sarah alone in a house; while Vicky stays with her, Burt searches the town. Malachai and his followers appear, capture Vicky, and take her to the cornfield, where they place her on a cross to be sacrificed. Burt enters the church, where a congregation of children led by a girl named Rachel are performing a cultural birthday ritual for Amos by drinking his blood from a pentagram-shaped cut on his body. Amos has turned 19, so is considered old enough for his "passing"—joining their god in the cornfield. Burt scolds the children for participating in a blood ritual and an enraged Rachel stabs Burt then Malachai and the others chase him. Job rescues Burt and they hide in a fallout shelter with Sarah, where they learn Vicky was captured, and agree to help him rescue her.

The zealous Isaac scolds Malachai for his treachery in killing Diehl, their only source of fuel. Malachai, tired of Isaac's preaching, takes over, ordering Isaac to be sacrificed instead of Vicky. Isaac warns Malachai that sacrificing him will break their pact with He Who Walks Behind the Rows and the children will be severely punished. That night, Burt sneaks into the cornfield to rescue Vicky. During Isaac's sacrifice, a supernatural light appears and devours the screaming Isaac. Burt emerges and overpowers Malachai, pushing him to the ground, then convinces the children to abandon the cult and run for safety. Isaac suddenly reappears, revived by He Who Walks Behind the Rows. Informing Malachai that the deity is angered over him being sacrificed and that He wants Malachai sacrificed as well for his betrayal, Isaac seizes and kills the terrified Malachai by breaking his neck.

A storm appears over the cornfield, and Burt and Vicky shelter the children in a barn. Burt reads a passage in the Bible Job gives him; Job also reveals that the police officer tried to set up the gasohol to stop He Who Walks Behind The Rows, but Malachai murdered him before he could finish. Vicky rereads the passage and realizes that the cornfield must be destroyed by fire in order to stop the false god. Burt sprays the cornfield with gasohol and tosses a Molotov cocktail into the field, setting it alight and destroying th

[tiny-maus-boots]

Wild West AU pt 8

Beca gave Aubrey a nod of greeting and slid onto the chair across from her. The blonde was seated at a small table very carefully embroidering the top edge of a sheet. Beca settled on the other side of the table and looked down at the heavy leather bound book waiting for her. She trailed fingertips along the well-worn cover before glancing around to make sure they were alone as she always did before pulling the wire rim spectacles out of the small hidden pocket that opened from the side in the soft leather of her tunic. She settled them on her nose and opened the Bible up to the bookmark and looked to Aubrey for her signal.

“You may begin.” She said with a nod and a small smile, her eyes drifting back to her needlework.

For a moment the letters of the words swam on the page making it all seem like an unruly march of ants. Beca blinked a few times and leaned over the page, her finger drifting along as she read with stuttering slowness, feet hooked around the legs of her chair. “For God so lov-ed, loved the wo- worled, world, as to give his only beg-got…begotten Son; that whos..whoso…whosomeeither…”

“Sound it out Becs.” Aubrey’s tone was gentle and it helped ease the tension that started thrumming through her when she couldn’t figure the word out. She wasn’t stupid but words, letters, they were hard sometimes. Beca had never managed to learn to read and no one had ever cared much to try and teach her until she was an adult. Aubrey had been kind and patient. Understanding exactly where Beca struggled and finding ways to help her focus without seeming to ever push. It was the kindest thing a body had ever done for her and she was damned grateful to Aubrey.

“That who-so-ev-er, oh whosoever, b-be-lie-veth, belie-veth, believeth in him, may not persh, no perish, but may have life ever…las, everlasting.”

“Good Beca, that was real good.” Aubrey stopped the delicate work and reached across the table to squeeze Beca’s forearm. “Pretty soon you won’t need me to help you.” The smile that she directed at Beca was full of warm pride and the brunette ducked her head with a little shrug, proud of herself too.

“I’ll always need ya Aubrey, You mean a lot to me an’ Chloe. You and Stace…” She didn’t know how to say it right, all the things she felt about her friends and the bond they all shared. “You’re family.” She didn’t even know why she had taken the conversation this path, maybe it was the near constant pressure of Jesse’s presence reminding her of how grateful she was for the people in her life that she knew she could trust.

The blonde smiled at her, giving another gentle squeeze of her arm. Family was important to both of them though neither of them had really known what a true family was before. Aubrey with her…religious situation and Beca with no family that she knew of at all, both of them desperately wanting something real to trust in. If it hadn’t been for Stacie and Chloe, Beca wasn’t entirely sure she and Aubrey would have survived this long. She might have said more but Jesse wandered into the main cavern already scanning the interior for her.

It seemed everywhere she went he was soon to follow and it was annoying her as much as it was annoying Chloe. Aubrey sighed at the sight of his purposeful stride toward them and began folding her sheets carefully. “I s’pose you’ll want to ride on out of here in a hurry after this.”

Beca gave her a short jerk of her head, barely a nod in acknowledgement. She’d rather walk in front of the line at a firing range than talk to Jesse but that didn’t seem to be an option at the moment. Beca gave a pained sigh and tightened the control on her anger and bitterness. “Yeah. Mind roundin’ up our girls for the ride to the mine?”

Aubrey gave and nod as she picked up her Stetson from an empty chair and placed it on her head firmly. Beca tried not to smirk when her friend intentionally pushed past Jesse with a hard shoulder bump. He watched her go with a hand on his shoulder for a long moment before he turned his attention back to Beca. She sighed again and slowly slid the glasses off her face, tucking them away carefully as he closed the remainder of the distance between them. “Beca…”

“Jesse.” She leaned back in her chair when he pressed his hip against the edge of the table, pushing that much more into her personal space. Beca’s fingers drummed on the tabletop in irritation but she refused to walk away this time. Whatever wound was between them it needed to be laid bare or it would keep festering, never healing.

He seemed relieved that she was alone and let out a shaky breath. “I’ve been looking for ya. Alone at last seems like.” Jesse pulled up a chair, close to hers and took one of her smaller hands in his. “Bec. I am so sorry. I know words ain’t enough right now, I know I gotta show my hand, and I swear I will. Ya just gotta know how sorry I am. I thought you were dead. I thought…I thought I would be too if I went after you.”

Beca believed every word he said but it didn’t change things. She pulled her hand free from his not caring at all about the look of loss on his face when she did so. “I know that Jesse. I’ve been knowing that since the moment you get go of my hand when they were pulling me out of the back of the wagon.”

There was a visible flinch at the stark truth of her words but he didn’t try to argue them. “You have to know Beca. I would have come for you. I don’t know what…she…told you but I would have come.” Maybe he would have but she didn’t think so at all. He had his chance for that when Chloe, Aubrey and Stacie had come for her and he didn’t take it and hadn’t even waited around to see if they’d make it.

“Yeah I reckon that’s a load of horse shit.” Beca crossed her arms over her chest, letting the anger spark in her eyes. “How long Jesse?” His puzzled brown eyes went wide in question and she shook her head with an exasperated snort. “How long did you wait before you took off on a horse you stole from the Beale barn? Did you even wait for the dust to clear or just you just run the second no one was there to judge you for it?”

He flinched again, his face going pale then red as he fought his own anger at being called out for what he’d done. “It’s not like that Beca…I thought the law would be headed right that way. I for sure thought they’d be just as dead as…” Jesse swallowed thickly and slumped his shoulders. “I thought they’d be just as dead as you. I wanted to go get help.”

She snorted again and rested a hand on the heavy Bible in front of her. He knew as well as she did that there was no help to be had from anyone. Their whole crew had been cut down by a Gatlin. The ones that hadn’t died straight off only suffered with pain and infection for a few days before their final end. Sometimes she could still hear them screaming in fits of pain, begging for mercy and water from their cells. Their cries of pain as horrible as the deafening silence of their abrupt stop and the smell of dank decay clinging in the air. “What do you want from me Jesse? Huh? Absolution? I can’t give it, that’s between you and God now.”

It was his turn to snort and he pushed at the edge of the book under her hand. “Never figured you for the religious type. What with the drinkin’ and swearin’ and all that damn thievin’ we got up to. This isn’t you, Beca. This ain’t the real you. Readin’ and carrying on with a woman…I know the real you Becs. I know the woman I married.”

Her lips quirked into a smirk of unamused humor at the implication that she was something or someone else. She wasn’t particularly religious but she was trying to be a better person, be someone Chloe deserved to have in her life even if she had to do it in a less than Christian way. And maybe she didn’t agree with every word of the Bible, maybe she hadn’t quite yet figured out what she thought of it at all, but she knew there was someone Jesse would eventually have to settle up with for his life on earth.

“The woman you married died when you let her get dragged off across the desert ground to hang for you.”

Pain filled his eyes and he reached out to squeeze her hand apologetically. “Beca now listen, we can fix this. I can be better. We could still be together. We can take our chances in Mexico…just us. We can forget all the stuff behind us and start fresh.”

Anger rose up in a hot wave and she stood abruptly from the table. It was just like him to think she could ever move on with him. Just like him to think she could ever forget about Chloe. Jesse’s problem was that he didn’t understand that she could never love him the way she loved Chloe. “I’ll tell you this once Jesse Swanson. There is no ‘us’ and there’s no me without Chloe. Outside of this last ride, you got nothin’ I want in my life or my bed.”

His temper flared as quickly as hers had, it was what had made them such a chaotic force when they were together. Each with too much pride and not enough sense, full of youthful stupidity. Jesse grabbed her tightly pulling their bodies close together in a way that once used to make her swoon but now only made her feel ill. “I know there’s still something between us Beca Mitchell, I know you want me still. If I have to play rough then I will but so help me I’m takin’ my damn wife back.”

Beca tipped her head back and slammed it forward into his face with a solid crack. Jesse’s hands released immediately and she pushed him off of her to stumble back into the table. “People change Jesse, I’m not the girl you knew and you’re not the man I thought you’d be. I’m not interested in anything you have to offer and I’m not your wife. I’m hers.” It should have been the end of it, it should have been the last word but Beca knew it was just one too many sucker punches to his pride to ever be so clean an end. She wasn’t at all surprised by the venom and childish hurt in his voice as it carried over to where she was already strolling away.

“I don’t recall you complainin’ much on what I had to offer when my cock was in your mo….”

The crash was a thunderous clatter cutting off his words with explosive force. Beca spun on a heel in time to see Jesse staggering forward to his knees and an enraged Chloe tossing the remains of a chair over her shoulder.

“I’ll kill you, you sonofabitch!”

Beca took a step toward to try and get between them, force them to stop but sudden warmth of Stacie’s strong arm looped around her middle, holding her back. It was hard to miss the amusement in the taller woman’s tone as Chloe delivered a savage kick to Jesse’s ribs that probably broke a few bones.

“Don’t. Let ‘er have this one.”

[mydearestreaderfanfics]

Do You Like Scary Movies? (Matt x Reader)

Warnings: swearing, violence, death (not any main characters)

Word Count: 2,997

Prompt/Request: Fourteenth day of the October Special: Scary Movies.

Summary: You and your boyfriend, Matt Holt, are enjoying a scary movie marathon. Well, you were... until a certain Stephen King movie turned the night into a truly scary story.

Author: Mod Alex

Matthew Holt was many things, a goofball, a major nerd, and a spectacular boyfriend. He was not, however, a horror movie fan. Not that he was about to tell you that. You loved horror flicks of all kinds- anywhere from psychological thrillers to gory slasher flicks, the scarier the better. And Matt was a sucker for seeing you happy. So when you asked him to binge watch horror movies with you in honor of the spooky season, he couldn’t help but say yes.

Which is why he was here now, a bowl of popcorn on his lap, pulse rushing, and clinging to you. And you were only half-way through the second movie. “Aww, Matt, do you want to turn the movie off, love? You should’ve told me you didn’t like scary movies.” “WHA- no way! I was just, um, making sure you weren’t scared. Yeah! That’s all, I just didn’t want you to get scared.” You fixed him with a disbelieving look and he chuckled nervously, pulling away from you. You pulled him back, curling up with his arm wrapped securely over your shoulders. “I guess you can protect me from the big, bad movie monsters.” Despite knowing you were playing along for his sake, he couldn’t help but feel better. Being close to you helped make the movie feel less real.

“Next up, a classic: The Children of the Corn!” Matt shook his head, amused. You weren’t afraid in the least if anything you seemed even more pumped than you had been before you started watching the movies. “Sure… Let me just go to the bathroom. You set it up?” You nodded, already shuffling through your DVDs. By the time he got back, you’d already set the movie up and popped another bowl of popcorn. “Ready?” “Yeah.” You got cozied up next to him again and pressed play. The opening played like normal, you laughing at the shitty effects and Matt seeming genuinely disturbed by the storyline. You mourned the loss of Sarge, the sweet border collie, and watched as Burt and Vicky made it to Gatlin. As they parked the car, your vision went black.

You woke up in the unforgettable snot yellow Buick. Your heart raced, thinking that perhaps this was some sort of sick joke. At least until you turned to see an equally confused Matt. Oh god, this can’t be happening. He wasn’t wearing the ironic tee you’d gotten him for his birthday, instead, he was wearing the white buttoned shirt that Burt wore in the movie. Much to your horror, you had Vicky’s outfit on. Did this mean what you thought it meant? “(Y/N), where are we?” You barely heard him over the roaring in your ears from the rising panic. You grabbed around at anything you could find- the map and bloody suitcase confirmed your suspicions. “In the movie. Fuck! Matt, how is this happening? How can this be real?” “The movie? You mean Children of the Cor-“ “Yes!” He grabbed your hand, trying to steady you even though he was freaking out too. “Okay, just breathe. How does it end, do you know? What happens?” You breathed like he told you to, taking a minute to calm down before you explained. “Okay,” You looked around, taking in the scene that was laid out around you, “If I’m not mistaken we’re in the scene before we meet Sarah.” “Sarah?” “The little girl. She’s not crazy like the others.” “Great.” You sighed, mentally agreeing with his sarcastic statement. “Matt, this movie is like crazy dangerous. And if it is going to play out which would be… less than ideal… we could both get really hurt.” You took his hands in yours. “Staying out here is a bad idea, but before we go in, promise me you’ll be careful.” “Always.” You nodded, the sinking feeling in your gut not lessening in the slightest.

The inside of the house was as messy as you remembered it being, which is to say, it looked like a twister had just gone through it. You wasted no time in wandering around, nothing of importance would be there. No. You needed to get to Sarah, maybe her psychic visions would point you in the direction of getting the hell out of here. Despite your hopefulness, your gut told you that wasn't going to happen. In a couple of minutes, Matt was going to leave for one reason or another and you'd be left with Sarah, after which you'll be taken away by Malachai. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest and you had to focus on your breathing for a solid minute so that you didn't break down into a panic attack right there. Real good that would do. No, you needed to keep as level a head as you could. Especially since you needed to try and remember how the movie played out. It had been a while since you'd seen the movie, you were lucky to have remembered as much as you did. But now, Matt and you'd life's literally depending on you remembering it. “Hey, (Y/N), I think I hear something up here.” Matt was already at the stairs. You grabbed his wrist stopping him from walking up further. “Wait. Before we go up there, I- we need to come up with a plan. Or at least let me try and remember.” He nodded, walking back down the steps to stand next to you. “That makes sense. Do you know- does the couple live?” You scrunched your eyebrows together, biting at your thumb nail while you thought. “I think so yes. But they were pretty beat up.” “Okay. That’s not ideal, but at least we have a chance.” “I remember Vicky, the character I’ve seemed to have replaced, she gets taken by the cult, but they use her as bait to get you to come. Don’t. If you do, they’ll kill us both and we won’t have a chance. You have to make sure you stay with… oh, what was his name? Sarah’s brother.” Matt nodded, seemingly taking everything in. “Okay. Anything else I need to know?” “I love you, other than that no. I can’t remember anything else.” “I love you too.” Matt held your head between his hands, resting his forehead against yours. The feeling was brief, but the gesture sent a wave of comfort through you. You pecked his lips before taking his hand and heading toward the music. “C’mon. Let’s go meet Sarah.”

Sarah was exactly where you expected her to be- sitting in a room just as disastrous as the rest of the house coloring a grisly scene. She looked up at the two of your, panic clear as day in her sad eyes. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, we aren’t going to hurt you,” you kneeled down next to her, “What're you drawing?” She moved away and you smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay. Do you think you could draw something for me?” “You won’t tell Isaac?” “We promise not to tell anybody,” “Or Malachai?” “Or Malachai.” You knew this would make her feel at ease, or at the least, you hoped it would. It had worked for Vicky in the movie after all. She nodded, a smile appearing on her fragile features. Matt tapped your shoulder and when you looked up at him he seemed to be distracted. You stood up so you could speak with him properly. He spoke in a hushed tone. “When those kids get here, what do we do?” You hadn’t thought about that… If Matt was here they'd just capture him too. Oh god. “Matt you have to go.” “What?!” You glanced back at Sarah to make sure she hadn't heard you two. “Look, when they get here they’ll take both of us, but if you go to Town Hall, the movie will play out like it’s supposed to. You can save me then. We can get out of here, but only if you go.” You tried to usher him out the door but he stood his ground. “(Y/N), I’m not just gonna leave you.” “Please, Matt. Just trust me about this.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay? Now go.” He still looked irresolute, but he did as you were asking. You did your best to steel yourself for what was about to happen. If only you could remember the movie a little better. “How’s your drawing coming along?” “Fine.” “Can I see it?” She handed you the paper and you felt a chill run through you like someone had just dumped ice water over your body. Is this what Vicky had felt, you wondered. A crash from downstairs alerted you to the unwanted intruder. “Sarah, you need to hide now.” She looked afraid but did as you asked, running behind the dresser as you made your way downstairs. Sarah was necessary for this story to work so you had to keep them from grabbing her. Malachai was already at the middle of the staircase when you got there. A malicious grin lit up his face. “Seize them!” Instincts drove you to turn around and run back towards the room. It was all for naught, though, as they yanked you back, pulling you away to the field.

Across the town, Matt was wandering through the town hall. There were papers everywhere, it felt like something horrible had happened here, although, he supposed it had. He felt uneasy, to say the least. One picture in specific caught his attention. A dragon…? What was that that it was breathing fire on? Oh god, oh no. He had to find you. He made his way back to the house, the feeling of dread growing stronger with each pound of his foot against the broken asphalt. “(Y/N)!? Where are you?!” He looked around the house frantically, tears beginning to pool in his eyes. It was a mistake to leave you alone here. Finally, his line of sight landed on a still cowering Sarah. “Sarah, where are they? Please, you’ve got to tell me. Where is (Y/N)?” Finally, Sarah spoke up in a hushed voice still full of fear to tell him who had taken you.

His search had led him to a run-down church. Calling it run down was being generous too, the whole place looked ready to collapse. Inside a group of children seemed to be doing some sort of ritual. He had to stop them, whatever made them think this was a good idea was crazy. “What are you all doing?” The boy at the pulpit turned around, his eyes glazed over and a dazed smile on his lips. “My passage. It’s my birthday.” “This is ridiculous, you can’t just cut yourself up because some, some other kid told you to-” “Silence interloper! Your presence profanes this holy place!” The girl who had been leading the whole ritual sent off the kids to get Isaac. Matt’s head was spinning, what kind of sicko was this Isaac to demand these kids prep themselves for death. “Look I’m not trying to hurt you, but this isn’t okay. We can get you help, we just gotta get you out of this place.” “There he is. Go get him!” Malachai had shown up, a hoard of children behind them. Every last one of them had some sort of weapon. It’s just a movie, none of them are real and he couldn't actually help them, Matt had to remind himself. His top priority was surviving long enough to find you. With a pitying glance back at the misguided children, he booked it out of there. As he was turning a corner, a little kid waved him over. “Hey, mister! I know a place to hide. But we gotta hurry.” He wasn't sure whether or not he could trust this kid, but the only other option was turning around and facing the armed children. And besides, hadn't you mentioned something about another little kid being helpful? “Alright. Lead the way.”

You woke up with a migraine pounding behind your eyes making it almost unbearably painful to open them. As your senses slowly returned to you, you could hear two voices arguing. It must be that scene where Malachai turns on Isaac. You closed your eyes; it’s not like there was much you could do plus it helped ease your headache. Malachai gave the command to cut you lose and put Issac in your place. The ropes holding you taut loosened and you fell to your knees. A knife prodded against your back and you sighed- it was a bad situation, but at least you were one step closer to finding Matt.

Job and Sarah had explained everything to him- how Isaac had basically brainwashed the whole town and how some cop had tried to save them but ended up dying. They also told him how you were most likely in the cornfield being prepared as a sacrifice. He swore his heart had stopped just from hearing that. Movie or not, there was no way he was going to let anything bad happen to you. “Okay, I’m gonna go find her. You two stay safe and hidden, okay?”

They’d brought you back to the cornfield when Matt had failed to show up. You tried to remind yourself that it was all part of the movie plot and that you yourself had told him not to come when they called for him, but still, your heart ached at the thought that maybe he wasn’t going to find you, or worse something had gone horribly wrong. You shouldn't have told him to leave. If you two would have stuck together maybe it would’ve worked better. Oh god, what if he was hurt because of your stupidity?! Just then you saw a flash of light brown move out of the corn stalks. It was Matt! Your heart leaped with joy. “Matt, you’re okay!” You weren’t the only one to have noticed him, though, the other kids were already turning on him. He shoved Malachai out of the way, pulling you towards him. “What is wrong with you all? There’s nothing okay about this- about killing each other because some kid told you it’s what you’re supposed to do! That’s ridiculous, you should be ashamed of yourselves.” Malachai ran back over, knife in hand. With reflexes faster than you could completely decipher, Matt had Malachai back on the ground with his knife in his hand. He tossed it aside. “Come on, (Y/N), we need to get out of here.” “Kill him!” The children didn’t listen to Malachai, they just looked down seeming to realize the consequences of their actions for the first time. Even still, the fire that had already consumed Isaac was quickly becoming overwhelming and there was very little time before it came to claim Malachai too from what you remembered. “To the barn.” You grabbed Matt’s hand, dragging him to the final showdown of the movie.

The wind had picked up and the children were all huddled in the barn with you. It was something you'd always found odd about the movie, how these kids that had tried to kill Burt and Vicky were now huddled in fear trusting the adults to keep them safe. Ah well, no time to dwell on that now. “Matt, I remember the ending.” “You do? What do we have to do?” “Set everything on fire.” “What?” He gave you a look of disbelief. “I know, I know. Just help me with this stupid hose would you?” Between the both of you (and Job) you managed to rig the sprinkler system with alcohol. “Matt, I’m gonna go throw the bottle.” “(Y/N), no. I mean this is all so crazy. Sure it worked in the movie but what if something goes wrong?” You smiled, swallowing your own fear to reassure Matt like he had done for you earlier. “I’ll be fine, I promise. And when I get back, I promise we will never ever watch another scary movie again.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, I’m gonna hold you to that.” Before you knew it you were wrapped securely in his arms, his lips right by your ear as he whispered in a voice that sounded shaky and unsteady. “You better come back. Please, I love you.” “I love you too.” You pulled back enough to press a kiss to his lips.

It played out the very same way it did in the movie. You threw the bottle and it fell, completely useless out of the reach of the fuel. Job ran to get it, chastised you for throwing so terribly and then you threw it again. The world went into bullet time. The bottle swirled and flipped and then landed. 1… 2… 3… BOOM! “Job, come on!” You ran back to the barn as fire swallowed the fields. Matt enveloped you in a hug, swinging you around, laughing joyously. “We did it, we did it! We can leave!” You left the scorching cornfields behind you as you, Matt, Job, and Sarah walked back to where you left the car. Big surprise it was unusable, but nevertheless, the door opened. “Interloper!” You slammed the door in the final jumpscares face. “We should probably walk.” And just as you began walking away on the abandoned road, your vision went black.

You woke up, curled up against Matt on the couch, the credits to Children of the Corn rolling on the tv. Had you just dreamt the whole thing up? Matt jumped up, eyes searching the room frantically before they finally settled on you. "You’re okay.” He pulled you close against him again. “No more scary movies.” You laughed breathlessly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. Truth be told, you weren't sure you'd watch another scary movie for the rest of your life. “I did promise that didn't I?” Maybe it wasn’t a dream after all.

[jnumyeons]

god is a woman

you’ll believe that god is most definitely a woman.

words: 3,694

a/n: finally, i’m publishing one of my halloween works. i took a lot of references from stephen king’s short story, children of the corn and maybe the 1984 film as well but i tried to have my own spin on it. there could be some errors hidden within this.

warnings: death, kids dying, language, horror?, religious talk and i mean lots of it 

changmin x oc

sakura looked at the sky above her, watching the clouds roll by as changmin sat in the driver’s seat next to her, eyes fixated on the road in front of him. even though the windows were down, it was still hot in the chevelle and all she could see was corn for miles. she turned her focus on the boy next to her, smiling as she gazed at his prominent features. plump lips. big doe eyes. beautiful nose.

changmin was everything a girl could ever want and desire. how she’d get so lucky? sighing, sakura placed her hand on his thigh and gently rubbed it, breaking the silence, “hey, you know where we are?” he glanced at her before focusing back on the road, shaking his head and shrugging, “no, not really. i just know we’re in nebraska.”

sakura groaned as she squeezed his thigh, throwing her head back against the seat, “i’ll tell you what though, i’ll never look at corn the same way after this.” changmin chuckled, feeling himself getting hard. her hand left his thigh when she grabbed the atlas from behind her in the backseat and started turning the pages, looking for the state of nebraska.

trailing her finger around on the page, she stopped when she finally found the place she was looking for. “we turned in hamburg, right?” they looked at each other briefly before focusing back on what they were doing beforehand. “yeah, we did.” sakura gripped the atlas tighter, her patience slowly wearing thin. “there’s twenty miles of corn until gatlin.”

she threw the atlas in the back, huffing as changmin’s eyes started leaving the road, outlining the curves of her body. “changmin, look out!” sakura screamed out in bloody murder, covering her eyes. he wasn’t fast enough, turning his attention back to the road after he hit whatever was thrown in front of the car, slamming on the brakes. “i hope that was a do-“ the poor boy didn’t finish his thought as sakura opened the door, leaned out and started throwing up the breakfast she had back past hamburg.

feeling brave, sakura got out of the car and saw the dead boy in the middle of the road, screaming again as she fell onto the road, shaking. “changmin, it was a boy! a little boy! he ran out from the corn!” changmin just sat there in the chevelle, unable to do anything while sakura kept screaming and crying.

a few minutes had passed and he turned the ignition off, getting out of the car. changmin looked at the boy who laid a few feet in front of him then down at sakura, who was softly crying now before looking around his surroundings. he found where the boy had ran off, heading towards that direction. she watched him, slowly getting up from where she sat, screaming, “shim changmin! don’t you dare leave me here all alone with no means to protect myself!”

all she could hear was the corn as the wind rustled through it. it made her shiver. sakura watched when changmin came back with a suitcase he found in the corn, setting it on the road next to them. “i guess it had belonged to the poor kid. looks no more than thirteen at the very least,” he thumbed at the kid, looking down at the girl. she shrugged, rolling her eyes, “you know how those crazy christians are, saying the number’s unlucky.”

she grabbed the suitcase off from the road, cringing at the sight of blood and quickly threw it in the back, not realizing he went to check on the boy. changmin bent down and slowly turned him over, examining him. his face was dirty and his throat had been cut. he was already dead by the time he was hit. he got up and walked towards the car, fishing for the car keys from his pockets.

“get the blanket from the backseat,” he demanded, looking at her as he pushed the key into the trunk’s lock and unlocking it, grabbing the rifle. sakura just looked at him, her lips slightly parted, “why?” she watched his jaw tense up. “goddamn it sakura, just do what i asked.” she leaned into the car and grabbed the blanket, handing it to him as he handed her the rifle. “someone cut his throat. that someone might be watching us.”

sakura looked around in the corn with wide eyes, holding the rifle close while changmin went back to the boy, spreading the blanket on the road and rolled him onto it. flipping the sides of the blanket over him, he picked him and carried him back to the car, putting him in the trunk and slamming it closed. “i don’t think we need a dead body in our trunk.” “they might wanna see it, sakura. it’s someone’s child for crying out loud.”

she rolled her eyes at him, putting the rifle in the back and getting in the passenger seat. “we should probably start heading towards the next town. what was it again?” he asked when he got back in the car, looking at her. “uh.. gatlin, we should at least be there in ten.” she wiped her hands on her summer dress. “did it look big enough?” “it was just a dot, kinda like one of them quaint little southern towns.”

changmin nodded, starting the car up as his heart beat fast. he felt like he was being watched. were they being watched? he couldn’t ask sakura, in fear she would have a mental breakdown. as fast as he could, he drove the chevelle as far as possible. for the next five minutes, they drove in silence. “hey, do you mind opening the suitcase?”

sakura shrugged, reaching behind her to grab it. “i really doubt there’s anything but clothes in there.” “it’s worth a shot.” as she tried to open the suitcase, changmin fiddled with the radio, only to be greeted with white noise. he kept play- “ATONEMENT!” the young voice yelled as sakura screamed, jumping in her seat while changmin raced to turn it down. “ONLY BY THE BLOOD OF THE LAMB ARE WE SAFE!”

looking over at changmin, sakura had her hand over her heart, breathing fast as her heart was beating fast. the radio tower must be close, really close.

“atonement is the word my brothers and sisters,” in the background, a few amens were spoken. “there’s some that think that it’s okay to get out in the world, as if you could work and walk in the world without being smirched by the world. now is that what the word of god teaches us?” and as loud as daylight, “NO!”

“HOLY JESUS!” sakura could only imagine the young girl preaching had her hands above her head. “when they gonna know that way is death? when they gonna know that the wages of the world are paid in the other side? huh? HUH?” she screamed the last huh out. “the lord has said that there’s many mansions in her house. but there’s no room for the fornicator. no room for the coveter. no room for the defiller of the corn. no room for the homo-“

sakura turned the radio off, disgusted, “she made me sick to my stomach. ‘no room for the homosexual’? they must belong to the catholics or something.” she shook her head, trying to open the suitcase again. “what did she about the corn? a-and her house? oh god, the other christians are gonna have a field day when they find this girl.”

she finally got it opened, looking around, seeing nothing but clothes. “oh, i don’t know about the corn. maybe they’re going insane because they’re surrounded in it,” she laughed, picking up an upside down crucifix that was made with corn. looking at it, sakura screamed and threw it back into the suitcase. changmin slammed on the brakes, looking down at the handmade crucifix.

“why is it upside down? ain’t that like satanic?” he reached to grab it but she slammed the suitcase shut, throwing it in the back behind them. sakura ran her fingers through her hair, sighing heavily. “no, it’s still a christian thing. saint peter didn’t want to be crucified the same way jesus christ did because he felt unworthy of so. now for some reason, christians think it’s satanic or something, i don’t know, it’s weird.”

changmin didn’t reply back, putting his foot back on the gas. the ride was quiet until she started giggling. “what’s so funny sakura?” she shook her head, “ it’s literal bible-land over here.” sign after sign, nothing but a verse. “all old testament too.” they passed a sign, making sakura giggle again. “a cloud by day, a pillar of fire by night,” sakura puffed her chest out, lowering her voice in a sarcastic tone. “exodus 13:21.”

all of the sudden, she started laughing, “i hadn’t heard that in years.” they passed a sign, reading; YOU ARE NOW ENTERING GATLIN! THE NICEST LITTLE TOWN IN NEBRASKA— OR ANYWHERE ELSE! POP. 5013.

sakura felt like something was wrong as they continued to roll into town, passing by all the abandoned buildings. “stop, please,” she looked at him, feeling her heart race again. changmin did as he was told, sighing. “what sakura?” “let’s just turn around. let’s take the boy back to grand island or something. somewhere far away from here.” he looked at her, grabbing her hands. “what’s wrong?”

“what’s wrong?” she repeated, her voice rising. “what’s wrong? this town is empty! there’s nobody here but us!” she screamed, raising her hands above her head, probably looking just as delusional as the young preacher. changmin looked at her, “but i’m sure there’s people down at the square having a ba-“

sakura leaned in close to him, cutting him off, “there is no one here. do you not hear how quiet it is? did you not even see the fucking price for gas? thirty-five-nine just for regular. when was the last time we even paid for gas with those prices?” her jaw was tense. his lips were parted, stuttering. the girl could be scary sometimes. “uh.. at least four years?”

“then let’s turn around changmin.” “sakura, grand island is seventy ducking miles away. it’s gonna look pretty damn funny if we take the boy back there.” “does it look like i care?” she leaned away, crossing her arms over her chest. changmin started driving again, towards the center of town. “changmin, can we please go to grand island?” “we have a mother’s dead son in our trunk and the least we can do is help him get justice,” he yelled at her, hitting the steering wheel.

a few minutes later, changmin stopped the car next to the gatlin bar and grill. “it says it’s open,” he shrugged, turning the ignition off before hopping out of the chevelle, walking towards the building. sakura followed behind him, making sure she slammed the door too. “yeah, you really think someone’s in there, huh?” she asked. he turned and glanced down at her, nodding slightly. “but do you hear it though?” “hear what?” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “hear the nothing that this town has?”

but as if it was on queue, the joyous laughter of kids could be heard. putting his hand up to his ear, changmin slightly grinned, “oh i don’t know about you, but i can hear some kiddos.” he turned back around to face the building and opened the door, entering the hellhole of dust and heat, sakura entering behind him. “hello sir, could i get a cheeseburger and a chocolate milkshake?” she asked in a high-pitched voice, making changmin roll his eyes as he traveled to the menu behind the counter. the items were relatively cheap.

“would you look at that, they’ve had this bean supper for twelve years now. you’d think they’d get tired of it,” sakura looked at the calendar tacked on the wall, now a sarcastic tone in her voice. august 1964. changmin headed towards the door with sakura hot on his tracks. “where are you going?” “to the municipal center.” she clenched her fists, yelling, “oh shim changmin, can’t you stop being so stubborn? you know there’s something wrong here so why can’t you just admit it?” “i’m not being stubborn sakura!”

sakura stuck her tongue at him, getting into the car. he got in behind her, turned the car on and drove up slowly to the church before pulling over. “what are you doing now?” she looked at the church then him. “i’m gonna go take a look, i’ll only be a minute,” changmin looked at the sermon board, turning the ignition off. “it’s the only thing that looks decent around here and plus, that was last sunday.” THE POWER AND GRACE OF SHE WHO WALKS BEHIND THE ROWS. July 24, 1976.

“she who walks behind the rows, huh? one of the million names for god, i guess. you coming or not?” he looked at her. “no. i don’t wanna be here. i’m scared shitless changmin. can we please just go?” “listen, i’ll only be a min-“ grabbing him by the shoulders, sakura shook him violently, screaming, “please changmin! i’m scared!” tears streamed down her face as. changmin could only sigh, grabbing the rifle from the back. “at least come with me then?”

she nodded, opening her door as he opened the glove compartment, grabbing the pistol and handed it to her. “you’d really think i’d leave you empty handed?” getting out, sakura took the pistol from him and closed the door. changmin got out as well, looking at the girl, “you ready?” “no, but i’d rather be with you than alone.”

walking up towards the door of the church, the kids from earlier watched from the other side of the road, hiding. sakura could feel like she was being watched, turning around slightly as changmin opened the door, the door creaking. “changmin, i think we’re being watched,” she whined. they walked into the church, looking around. “what makes you say that?” “i could feel eyes on my back. a whole bunch of them too. reminded me of a spider.” they continued to walk in before stopping behind the pews.

behind the pulpit was a large portrait of what it seemed to be a female version of christ, but crucified on the cross upside down, nude with corn gauged in her eyes. changmin subconsciously got closer, his head cocked to the side with his lips slightly parted. “she looks like you~” he cooed, chuckling. sakura huffed, rolling her eyes, “yeah, very funny.” she had to admit, the more she looked at it, the more it did look like her.

“if it does look like me, it’s pretty coincidental, that’s for sure,” sakura shrugged. “i was joking around sakura. do you really think that thing looks like you?” she opened her lips, but closed them. from where changmin stood, he could see a pipe organ with the keys ripped out and corn replaced. above, there was a sign, MAKE NO MUSIC EXCEPT WITH HUMAN TONGUE SAITH THE LORD GOD.

“hey sakura, what’s that from?” changmin pointed at the sign above the corn organ. she walked over to it, reading over it carefully, “um.. 1 corinthians, i believe at least.” he only nodded, walking over to the pulpit and reading the bible that laid on top of it in a deep, southern accent, “then, the lord answered job out of the whirlwind and said, who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge? … where wast thou when i laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding.”

sakura laughed at him, smiling, “you do a better southern accent than i do and i lived in the south most of my life.” changmin shrugged, flipping the pages around, noticing a section had been torn out. the new testament. “seems like these guys don’t like the new testament,” he glanced at her, earning only a hum. another book caught his attention and he pulled it out from the lower shelf of the pulpit, slowly running his fingers over the words, THUS LET THE INIQUITOUS BE CUT DOWN SO THAT THE GROUND MAY BE FERTILE AGAIN SAITH THE LORD GOD OF HOSTS.

changmin opened the book, the sheets all lined and wide. it was quite obvious a child had wrote it, the letters were large and childishly made. the first column states:

amos deigan (richard), b. sept. 4, 1945     sept. 4, 1964

isaac renfrew (william), b. sept. 19, 1945   sept. 19, 1964

zepeniah kirk (george), b. oct. 14, 1945    oct. 14, 1964

mary wells (roberta), b. nov. 12, 1945       nov. 12, 1964

yemen hollis (edward), b. jan. 5, 1946       jan. 5, 1965

changmin shivered as he continued to read the book, shaking his head. “let me tell you something, sakura,” he started while she sat down on one of the pews, nodding slightly. “it’s about this amos guy. he and his friends got their religion and killed off their parents. every single damn one of them,” he paused, sighing, “but why the corn though? maybe it was dying. maybe they somehow got the idea that the corn was dying because there was too much sinning. not enough sacrifice for her. they would’ve done it in the corn, the rows.”

sakura could only look at him with a blank expression. “maybe they decided that nineteen was as old as any of them could live, maybe it’s for oblation,” he continued on. she hummed, pressing her lips together. “changmin, i think you’ve put a little too much thought into this.” sakura got up from her spot on the pews, stretching, “but i think it’s time we should start heading out now, we’ve been in here long enough.” changmin nodded, walking towards her.

they walked towards the front of the church when the sounds of children interrupted them, sakura dropping down and crawling in front of a broken window. changmin followed her, watching some kids beat on the chevelle. “those little fuckers!” he whispered, cocking the rifle and raising it to the open hole but sakura stopped him. “don’t do something you might regret.” he lowered the rifle, nodding. “what should we do though?”

sakura got up and walked out of the church, startling the kids. she gave them a sweet smile, her voice dripping with honey, “what are you little munchkins doing?” one of the kids knelt down and the others followed, yelling, “she who walks behind the rows! thank you for blessing us!” changmin walked out of the church in disbelief, watching a girl walk up towards them. “ah! she who walks behind the rows! it’s so good to finally see you in the flesh!”

sakura recognized her voice, it was the young preacher on the radio. she smiled at her too as changmin yelled out, “what’s your name?” the young girl giggled, “my name is isabella, and i presume your name is changmin, right?” he choked on his saliva, nodding. “well, now that she who walks behind the rows has finally visited us, how about we celebrate?”

the kids got up from their position on the ground and got near sakura, getting ready to pick her up before changmin stopped them, “what do you think you’re doing? get away from her!” isabella got in front of sakura, grabbing the pistol from her hand. “we’re going to celebrate the arrival of her.” sakura looked at changmin, trying to tell him she’s got this all under control before she got picked up, getting carried away.

changmin followed, feeling the temperature get colder as they made their way into the corn, sakura still high in the air. she could see a clear opening in a distance, probably where the kids do their rituals. before she knew it, she was seated on a chair and a handmade crown of corn was put on her head. she looked around, some kids sat around patiently as others got fires started. changmin stood next to her, whispering, “what are you doing?” she looked at him and smiled, “you’ll see.”

he nodded, feeling small hands push him away. changmin sat on the grass not to far away from sakura, his heart racing, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. isabella came forward, the fire cracking around them. “today, she who walks behind the rows has visited us. we have been waiting for this day! but do we deserve her presence?”

the kids sat there, quiet. did they really deserve sakura’s presence? “the answer is no,” isabella went on, “we never have deserved her presence! we failed her!” she looked at sakura before kneeling in front of her, bowing her head, “she who walks behind the rows, what would you like for us to do?”

sakura looked at isabella, then changmin then the rest of the kids, “if you want to make me happy, sacrifice yourself to me.” changmin’s mouth dropped as isabella stood up, yelling, “you heard her! sacrifice yourselves!” sakura watched the kids get up in a frenzy, finding ways to do just that. isabella stuck the pistol she took from sakura in her mouth and pulled the trigger. changmin tried to fight some kids from using his rifle.

sakura continued to sit there, watching the chaos unravel as kids hurt themselves one after another. changmin got up and grabbed her hand, dragging her with him as they ran out of the corn, hearing the last gunshot linger in the air. they continued to run, the corn crown now far behind them. she fell down back in the town square, exhausted from running. “i’m sorry sakura, i should’ve listened to you.”

she laid there, listening to changmin just ramble on, saying how he was wrong and she was right. “changmin!” sakura yelled out, startling him, “it’s okay.” changmin bent down and helped her stand up, kissing her head softly. “we should start heading on now. i don’t wanna be here anymore,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “yeah, let’s do that.” they started walking the direction they came from, leaving the nicest little town in nebraska, or anywhere else.

[dellamonica]

Roy Orbison: o bom e velho emotivo de sempre

Roy Orbison: o bom e velho emotivo de sempre. Aqui você vai encontrar a Biografia de Orbison e mais de 300 músicas para vocês ver e curtir os clips. APROVEITE ! Roy Kelton Orbison (Vernon, 23 de abril de 1936 – Hendersonville, 6 de dezembro de 1988), apelidado de The Big O, foi um influente cantor e compositor estadunidense e um dos pioneiros do rock and roll, e cuja carreira estendeu-se por mais de quatro décadas. Orbison foi internacionalmente reconhecido por suas baladas sobre amores perdidos, por suas melodias ritmicamente avançadas, seu timbre vocal de três oitavas, seus característicos óculos escuros e um ocasional uso de falsete, tipificado nas canções como "Only The Lonely", "Oh, Pretty Woman" e "Crying". Em 1988, foi incluso postumamente na galeria da Fama de compositores de música.

Biografia

Orbison com seus óculos originais de aro grosso. Foto de 1965. Roy Orbison nasceu no dia 23 de abril de 1936 em Vernon, no Texas, Estados Unidos. Seus pais Orbie Lee e Nardine, deram sua primeira guitarra quando tinha 6 anos de idade. Como era de se esperar, para um jovem morando no Texas, suas influências musicais foram o gospel e o country. Estimulado pelo pai e pelo tio, Roy começou a cantar em shows e no rádio antes dos dez anos de idade. Aos dez, ele recebeu seu primeiro pagamento como cantor num concurso de talentos. No começo de sua adolescência, ele já viajava pelo Texas. Sua primeira banda, aos treze anos, foi The Wink Westerners formada por amigos de escola. Depois ele mudou para The Teen King. Roy Orbison estudou o primeiro grau em escolas de Vernon, Fort Worth e Wink, no Texas. Ele fez o colegial na Wink High School de 1950 a 1954. Roy estudou por dois anos na Universidade do Texas. Ele pretendia estudar geologia, pois seu pai trabalhava nos campos de petróleo. Enquanto ele estava na universidade, Pat Boone, um amigo, convenceu-o a formar uma nova banda. Após se formar, Roy trabalhava no campo de petróleo e tocava à noite. Suas apresentações ao vivo o fizeram entrar em contato com Johnny Cash, que aconselhou Roy a mandar uma cópia de "Ooby Dooby" a Sam Phillips, da Sun Records, gravadora de Elvis Presley e Jerry Lee Lewis. Em junho de 1956, estava gravado o seu primeiro grande sucesso, "Ooby Dooby", vendendo 20.000 cópias. A princípio pretendia ser apenas um compositor de rock, mas com o tempo, decidiu gravar suas próprias canções e impressionou o mundo com sua voz forte e frequentemente preferindo permanecer em tons agudos. Roy Orbison, assim como aconteceu com seu amigo Elvis Presley, foi confundido, no início de sua carreira, por disc jockeys e por quem ouvia sua músicas, como um cantor negro, devido a seu tipo de voz. O primeiro grupo famoso a gravar uma música de Roy foi The Everly Brothers: "Claudette", uma de suas primeiras composições e que Roy dedicou a sua primeira esposa, em 1958. Alguns anos depois, Roy Orbison, como agradecimento aos Everly Brothers, gravou dois de seus grandes sucessos: "Bye Bye Love" no seu álbum Lonely & Blue, em 1960 e "All I Have To Do is Dream", em seu álbum In Dreams, em 1963. Ainda com relação à gravação de Claudette, Roy Orbison usou seus direitos autorais resultantes deste sucesso para livrá-lo do contrato com a Sun Recordos e assinar com a gravadora Monument. Sua primeira gravação, Up Town, em 1960, já constava da lista de sucessos dos Estados Unidos. Neste mesmo ano, sua canção "Only The Lonely" foi rejeitada por Elvis Presley e os Everly Brothers e Orbison decidiu gravá-la: a canção atingiu o topo das paradas da Inglaterra e por pouco não chegou ao ponto máximo dos EUA, vendendo dois milhões de discos. Comenta-se que Roy Orbison, uma pessoa tímida e de poucas palavras, usava óculos escuros para corrigir o seu astigmatismo crônico. Ainda na década de 60, gozou de sucesso sem precedentes, tanto na Inglaterra como nos EUA, usando seu estilo de baladas românticas como "Blue Angel", "Running Scared", "Crying", "Dream Baby", "Blue Bayou" e "In Dreams". Mesmo durante o sucesso dos Beatles (grupo de quem tornou-se amigo e cujo um dos integrantes seria seu parceiro noutra banda) na América, Orbison foi um dos poucos artistas estadunidenses que manteve seu sucesso comercial. Durante o auge dos Beatles nas paradas de sucesso, ele foi por duas vezes o número um na Inglaterra com o poderoso "It's Over" e o seu maior sucesso "Oh, Pretty Woman", vendendo 7 milhões de discos em 1964. Sua fama era tão grande, que os Beatles se sentiram orgulhosos por terem feito uma turnê com ele em 1963 (existe o comentário de que a canção "Please Please Me", do primeiro álbum de estúdio da banda, teve grande influência do estilo de Roy Orbison). Roy considerava a Inglaterra sua segunda pátria, consequência de seu grande sucesso naquele país e das turnês frequentes que lá ele fazia. Em 1965, Roy Orbison assinou com a MGM, pensando na possibilidade de ser um ator de cinema, como foi Elvis Presley. De fato, ele chegou a gravar um filme em 1968: The Fastest Guitar Alive, no entanto, de pouco sucesso. Roy Orbison sempre gostou de música country e nunca escondeu sua admiração pelo cantor e compositor Don Gibson. Tanto é assim, que em 1967 Roy gravou um álbum chamado Roy Orbison Sings Don Gibson, o que se tornou algo inédito, pelo fato de Roy ser o autor da maioria de suas canções gravadas. Apenas para lembrar, Roy gravou, de autoria de Don Gibson: "I Can't Stop Loving You", "I'd Be a Legend in My Time", "Too Soon to Know", entre outros. Roy Orbison sofreu grande tragédia em sua vida, quando em 1966, sua esposa Claudette Frady morreu num acidente ao cair do banco traseiro de sua moto e em 1968, quando um incêndio destruiu sua casa, matando dois de seus três filhos (Roy Duwayne Orbison e Anthony King Orbison).

Roy ao vivo em 1976. Roy Orbison se casaria novamente, em 1969, com Barbara Orbison. Os anos que se seguiram foram tempos obscuros em sua carreira. Na década de 70, além de passar por problemas financeiros, sofreu uma operação do coração em 1979, e só foi relançado em 1980, quando conquistou um Grammy pelo seu dueto com Emmylou Harris na música "That Lovin' You Fellin' Again", do filme Roadie. Em 1986, seu outro sucesso, "In Dreams", fez parte da trilha sonora do filme Blue Velvet (Veludo Azul). Em 1987 Roy Orbison foi incluído no Hall da Fama do Rock'n Roll e nesta cerimônia ele cantou "Oh, Pretty Woman" com Bruce Springsteen. Neste mesmo ano, Orbison assinou contrato com a Virgin Records, onde regravou todos seus sucessos, pois muitas das gravações originais estavam "presas" devido ao processo de falência. O resultado foi o álbum In Dreams. Em 1988, Roy ganhou o Grammy pelo dueto com K. D. Lang na música "Crying". Em 1988 produziu o álbum e o vídeo A Black And White Night (Roy Orbison and Friends) onde aparecem vários astros da música, como Bruce Springsteen, Tom Waits e Elvis Costello. Neste mesmo ano juntou-se a George Harrison, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty e Jeff Lynne formando os Traveling Wilburys. No entanto, nesta banda, eles não revelaram seus nomes verdadeiros e diziam que era composta por quatro irmãos (Roy, neste caso, era conhecido como Lefty Wilbury). O lançamento deste álbum foi esplêndido a conquistaram o Grammy em 1989. Todos esperavam que a carreira de Roy Orbison estouraria novamente, quando sofreu um ataque cardíaco fatal, em Nashville. O lançamento do disco Mystery Girl, finalizado postumamente em 1989, foi considerado pela crítica como o mais bem sucedido álbum de toda sua carreira, não simplesmente como uma homenagem póstuma mas pelo fato deste disco conter canções que mostravam um homem descontraído e com uma voz que nunca havia soado melhor, como por exemplo "You Got It", "She's a Mistery to Me", "Califórnia Blue", "A Love So Beautiful", "In The Real World", "The Comedians", etc. Em 1992, foi lançado o álbum King of Hearts, contendo algumas músicas inéditas. Sobre este álbum, Barbara Orbison comentou: "Uma das perguntas que me faziam nestes três últimos anos, era se Roy havia deixado material suficiente para mais um álbum. Este disco, é a resposta". Roy Orbison ficou conhecido como o lendário Big "O". Alguns de seus sucessos foram temas de filmes, como Wild Heart (Insignificance), In Dreams (Veludo Azul), Oh, Pretty Woman (Uma Linda Mulher), Crying, em dueto com K.D.Lang (Hiding Out) e A Love So Beautiful (Proposta Indecente). É fantástico ver a legião que Roy nos deixou e como o mundo reconheceu. Em 1989, Roy e k. d. lang ganharam o Grammy pelo dueto de Crying. Em fevereiro de 1990, o Roy Orbison Tribute Concert to Benefit the Homeless (Concerto em Tributo a Roy Orbison em Benefício aos Desabrigados) reuniu vários músicos. Don Was, Gary Busey, Dean Stockwell, Patrick Swayze, Bernie Taupin, The Original Byrds (David Crosby, Chris Hillman and Roger McQuinn), Cindy Bullens, T-Bone Burnett, Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, Chris Frantz, Larry Gatlin, Emmylou Harris, John Hiatt, John Lee Hooker, Chris Isaak, B. B. King, k. d. lang, Michael McDonald, NRBQ, Iggy Pop, Bonnie Raitt, Michelle Shocked, Ricky Skaggs, Stray Cats, Pete Townshend, Was (Not Was), Dwight Yoakam and Tina Weymouth lembraram Roy cantando suas músicas. No final de 1990, Roy entrou para o Songwriters Hall Of Fame (Hall da Fama dos Compositores). No mesmo ano, You Got It e Mystery Girl foram grandes sucessos no mundo todo.

Calçada da Fama de Roy Orbison em Hollywood, Califórnia. Em 1991, Roy recebeu um Grammy por "Oh, Pretty Woman" do álbum A Black and White Night Live, um show ao vivo com a presença de Jackson Browne, T-Bone Burnett, Elvis Costello, James Burton, k. d. lang, Bonnie Raitt, Steven Soles, J. D. Souther, Bruce Springsteen, Tom Waits and Jennifer Warnes. Esse ano, duas músicas de Roy estiveram entre as vinte melhores no Reino Unido. Ele tem estado nas paradas por mais de quatro décadas. Inacreditável para um homem que quando perguntavam como gostaria de ser lembrado simplesmente respondia, "Eu só gostaria de ser lembrado." Em novembro de 1996, outro álbum, The Very Best of Roy Orbison, foi lançado. Neste disco estão todos os grandes sucessos, desde o começo de sua carreira até ao final. Morte Em 6 de dezembro de 1988, Roy Orbison morre, aos 52 anos de idade, de ataque cardíaco. Está enterrado no Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery em Los Angeles, Califórnia. Seu t��mulo está sem identificação, porém, registros do cemitério indicam que está na seção D, número 97.

Discografia

Roy Orbison at the Rock House (1961)Lonely and Blue (1961)Crying (1962)In Dreams (1963)There Is Only One Roy Orbison (1965)Orbisongs (1965)The Orbison Way (1966)The Classic Roy Orbison (1966)Roy Orbison Sings Don Gibson (1967)The Fastest Guitar Alive Original Soundtrack (1967)Cry Softly Lonely One (1967)Roy Orbison's Many Moods (1969)Hank Williams the Roy Orbison Way (1970)The Big O (1970)Roy Orbison Sings (1972)Memphis (1972)Milestones (1973)I'm Still in Love with You (1976)Regeneration (1977)Laminar Flow (1979)Class of '55 (1986)Mystery Girl (1989)King of Hearts (1992) A Black & White Night Live (1989) Roy Orbison's Greatest Hits (1962)More of Roy Orbison's Greatest Hits (1964)Early Orbison (1964)The Very Best of Roy Orbison (1966)The Great Songs of Roy Orbison (1970)The Living Legend of Roy Orbison (1975)All-Time Greatest Hits (1977)In Dreams: The Greatest Hits (1987)For the Lonely: 18 Greatest Hits (1988)The Legendary Roy Orbison (1989)20 Original Hits/Original Recordings (1989)Best Loved Standards (1989)The Legendary Roy Orbison (box set) (1990)Super Hits (1995)The Very Best of Roy Orbison (1996)Oh, Pretty Woman: The Greatest Hits (1998)16 Biggest Hits (1999)20 Golden Hits (2000)The Best of Roy Orbison (2003)The Essential Roy Orbison (2006)The Very Best of Roy Orbison (2006)Playlist: The Very Best of Roy Orbison (2008)A Love So Beautifull : Roy Orbison & the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra (2017) Read the full article

[mcnahq-blog]

( .. the cutest bean ever omg )

hey guys, i’m jules — a suffering uni student from the weirdest fucking tz — and i’m so excited to be a part of this rp !! i like watching crack vids of bts ( mY BOYS !!!! hmu if you’re kpop trash too so we can sob over wdta pt. 2 ), finding new memes to torture my friends two provinces away with, making my eardrums bleed bc i’m listening to some surfer rock on max volume, and bingewatching the canadian comedy masterpiece known as letterkenny for the umpteenth time. anyways, this is my precious honey girl mona who’s rly just trying to live peacefully ( for a young celeb in hollywood at least ) despite the intensity of her life. here’s some basic — & extensive, sorry lmao — info about her ( TW: abuse kinda ?? , brief hints of depression, insomnia & starvation ) :

( JEON SOMIN & CISFEMALE )— here we have everything you want to know about ( MONA GATLIN/KIM MONA ), the ( MUSICIAN ) that has been stealing everyone’s hearts for ( FIVE YEARS ) years now. her rep keeps pushing for the ( STEADFAST & GREGARIOUS ) persona, but a close source to her says she’s actually ( SYBARITIC & RETICENT ). i read she ( ABANDONED HER CAREER IN KPOP AFTER LONGTIME ABUSE FROM HER MANAGEMENT, CAUSING HER GROUP TO DISBAND ) but whatever it is that you want to believe, one thing is for sure, the ( TWENTY TWO ) year old has the world in her hands. — (( jules && gmt-2:30 && she/her ))

so here’s a brief bio for now

born on april 6, 1995 in incheon, south korea

she was given up by her mother just minutes after her birth, not even given a name as she was separated from her, but knows that her surname was kim

she ended up being adopted within a few days, as her parents had been waiting a while to adopt from this particular agency

was named mona haneul gatlin, after her adoptive grandmother.. well, 2/3 of the name anyway

grew up just outside of seattle, washington with her two dads, an editor at a publishing firm and a cop respectively, and was showered with affection

a ball of sunshine growing up, i mean she was polite and thoughtful af, would give a classmate the cupcake her papa snuck into her lunchbox if they didn’t have enough for lunch

p smart all things considered, but especially loved english and languages while physics could fucking choke ( well.. it could once she was in higher grades anyway )

she always loved to sing, knew that she was good too. especially when her dad gave her a couple of songbird-based nicknames that still make her beam when he calls her that

her dads were aware of the american auditions for korean entertainment companies and since mona grew up learning korean from her auntie — who was her papa’s boss in reality — they figured she would be capable of at least auditioning ( i’m.. so bad at explaining things, i’m sorry lol )

so at thirteen, she went to an audition in san francisco and got in the good graces of a company, so much so that by fourteen, she had moved to seoul and began training

it was.. intense to say the least, especially when she was still p young and had just moved to a different continent

some training exercises felt more like punishments than actual lessons or help, but she shrugged it off as she was determined to make it big, for her parents if not herself

attended an international school alongside several other trainees/idols and honestly felt a bit off about the huge changes in her life, causing her to have some issues with making new friends outside of those she had already made within the agency, which had already been few and far between if she were being honest with herself

at one point, she indulged in underaged drinking alongside a few other trainees because everything became so hard to deal with and it was a means to unwind in some way

but when more positive attention and energy was directed towards her, she stopped for the sake of her future now that it seemed brighter

finally was chosen for a co-ed group at sixteen with her being the maknae and debuted at seventeen

went by kim mona bc she was p much told to hide her english name since it would likely cause some backlash, if not for the fact that she was the daughter of two men so that had to be hidden too

but everyone knew her as MONA, since mononyms are p popular among idols and it felt a bit more genuine than going by her initial surname

they had a lot of success, even having a couple of subunits, some collabs individually here and there and co-hosting variety shows, up until january 2016 when she announced her departure from the group and, subsequently, led the group to disband altogether

she decided that the kpop music industry was a bit too much for the girl that wanted a bit of peace for longer than a week at a time, so she moved onto the western music industry and dragged a couple of her group-mates with her, alongside a guy that they’d crossed paths with while searching for new management

kinda earned a substantial following in their new project since they had quite the fanbase with DefY so they saw sudden success

anyways, to the rumour

mona’s former management company endured a lot of speculation regarding abuse of its artists ( if you’re not familiar with it already, look up the abuse/unfair treatment scandals with smtown and exo, and you’ll have the basis of my direction with this )

when she left the group, most netizens assumed that first and foremost, their contracts had expired and they wished to try something new

however once cavalier put out “trainwreck,” which mona co-wrote, many started reading into some aspects of it as her, and her former members’, history of abuse with her ex-management condensed into an almost four minute song

it also didn’t make sense to people as DefY was at its peak, but when a couple of onstage fainting spells and the hospitalization of one or two of her group-mates for “sudden illnesses” were taken into consideration as well, it made it seem all the more plausible and it became a huge scandal in south korea

honestly.. not gonna tell you if it’s true or not for the time being bc it would prob involve a couple of other muns and speculation is always fun lmao

now her personality/other little things

an actual angel™

who makes rly shitty, impulsive decisions that make her question her sanity lol

not annoyingly nice or cute or w/e though ?? like she’s a rather compassionate and enthusiastic person, but she’s p chill for the most part, unlike the slight shift in persona during her idol days where her positivity was more put on

dumb jokes galore

kinda going through her wild phase now, but also went through one during her trainee and debut days that was more so a means to help her deal with how straining almost 120 hours per week of constant activity was on her teenage self

bad influences hmu

endured depression before debuting, just realized i forgot to add that

she won’t tell you much about her past, v vague about her trainee days especially

the kind of girl that wants a simple life.. but will also splurge on some stunning louboutins

if you ever saw her at an awards show, she’s that person that befriends everyone

but she won’t take shit from anyone just because they’re generally in her good graces

pastries are.. everything to her, you’ll win her over for the most part if you pick her up a chocolate filled croissant or something

speaks korean and a bit of japanese and chinese, super basic though

has been an on-and-off sufferer of insomnia for years now, as well as a couple of vitamin deficiencies, migraines and the effects of a poor diet

so now she’s trying to treat her body like a temple.. by eating as much red meat and veggies, and drinking as much water, as possible, god help the girl

curses quite a bit

has a fear of living alone ?? kind of, she’s used to being glued to the side of her dads/group-mates that the idea of living by herself, although prob more fulfilling for her, is a bit terrifying

also has a fear of cicadas and ordering inside of takeout restaurants lmao

but first fear aside, she doesn’t rly have a dependency on people

has a very staunch standing on many things regarding her career now, finally — and properly — putting herself first for once

also has a problem with prioritizing herself in almost anything

i might add more later ?? for now that’s it tbh

so that’s mona !! if you’d like to plot, message me or like this and i’ll come to you. i’ll post a small connections ooc later on ! 

[acdaldal-blog]

♔

♔ - One Muse hits the other while opening a door too fast/forcefully

                             That’s why she hated public transport in Seoul: no matter how much they tried, it was almost impossible to get on the right time and the crowds just made the girl slow down even more much to her displeasure. She also didn’t have the privilege to run and get covered up with sweat because she didn’t had another blazer in the school like so many other students in her class.

Daldal hated getting late for classes, no matter how useless they seemed to be. And no, Advanced Biology isn’t useless - it’s in fact her favorite subject by far and if she had to choose at least one subject to keep on her perfect grades she wouldn’t have a hard time picking on it.

She liked everything: the smell of the lab, the expensive coats, the protection glasses and of course the non-stopping 4 hours lecture from one of the best teachers in the entire school, along other interested students. It was a healthy, smart environment, something she dreamed of when she heard the news she was accept at Chunghwa. Daldal lived for that experience.

A little out of breath, she simply smiled when people made room for her to walk by the hallways or greeted her. Some were dazzled, others whispered things like ‘Is that Daldal? Her hair is pretty~! Daebak!’ or ‘Wow, she really is a living Snow White!’ but her favorite has always been ’She looks so smart!’.  Entering the school grounds she changed everything: the way she walked and her facial expressions, holding her head high and keeping a perfect, intact posture. Just when she turned on the corner and made sure no one was there that she speed up like Justin Gatlin, rushing to the door and opening it with desperation. She was already 11 minutes late, crap! Little she knew that Kang Heejun was also doing the exact same thing only at the other side of the door and because of physics theories and formulas, she was now on the ground, with her bag and books all splattered over the floor.

“-Newton Third’s law sure is a bitch sometimes, huh?” a small smile peeked on her lips, trying to brush off the embarrassment for being in a such compromising position in front of a fellow student - or how the other students liked to call him, Daldal’s ’boyfriend’. (Or at least, that’s what people thought they were).

[chestnutpost]

Trump Signs Bibles At Alabama Church. Twitter Users Throw The Book At Him.

This post was originally published on this site

President Donald Trump stopped at a church in Alabama while touring horrifying tornado destruction Friday — and signed Bibles.

It was an unusual move. Typically, people autograph books they’ve written. 

The Bibles may have been the closest things on hand for Trump to sign during his visit. Volunteers had their own, and Bibles were also being distributed at the Providence Baptist Church in Opelika along with clothing and other goods, according to The Associated Press.

The community has mobilized in the wake of the EF-4 tornado that struck rural Beauregard last Sunday and killed 23. It was the deadliest tornado in the nation since 2013.

Trump perked up the church crowd, which cheered when he autographed the cover of a 12-year-old boy’s Bible. The president and Melania Trump together signed the cover of 10-year-old girl’s Bible decorated with pink camouflage. One woman at the church called Trump’s visit a “godsend,” according to pool reports.

The crowd cheering when President Trump took a picture with Gatlin, a 12 year old who has been volunteering at Providence Church all week. The President also signed some bibles. pic.twitter.com/CTOsFQhlOZ

— Sally Pitts (@SallyPitts_WSFA) March 8, 2019

The Smithsonian’s curator of religion, Peter Manseau, told The Washington Post that past presidents have also signed Bibles, including George W. Bush and Ronald Reagan.

“If this was an organized effort where the president was giving out stacks of signed Bibles, that would strike me as odd,” Manseau said. “But from what I can tell, the event wasn’t outside the norm. Presidents seem to sign a lot of random things put in front of them.”

However, Southern historian Wayne Flynt, a Baptist deacon and Auburn University professor emeritus, told AL.com that signing a Bible is “right next to sacrilege. That’s a holy book,” he added. Flynt also said he wasn’t surprised Trump would autograph a Bible because “there is nothing that shames the president.”

Several people responding with tweets — including former Hillary Clinton adviser Peter Daou — were furious that a president responsible for placing immigrant children in cages would have the nerve to sign a Bible. Others pulled out the stops to mock it.

Donald J. Trump is signing Bibles. The man whose vicious and inhumane border policy violates the fundamental teachings of Jesus is signing Bibles.

— Peter Daou (@peterdaou) March 8, 2019

In Trump’s defense, he wrote as much of the Bible as “Art of The Deal” https://t.co/BsR6pTkaxK

— Judd Legum (@JuddLegum) March 8, 2019

When the man who embodies all 7 deadly sins—lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy and pride—is signing Bibles it means that it is time to reevaluate your religion.

— Ryan Knight 🇺🇸 (@ProudResister) March 8, 2019

In Alabama, Trump signed the COVER of Bibles.

So his record is still intact: He’s never actually opened one. pic.twitter.com/L7XzCAJy3G

— Mrs. Betty Bowers (@BettyBowers) March 8, 2019

Good grief. Trumpty was autographing Bibles today in Alabama! Don’t you just know those books are gonna burst into flames someday.

— JG (@Jaxjanetg) March 8, 2019

Donald Trump signing bibles is like Hannibal Lecter signing cookbooks.

— Adam Best (@adamcbest) March 8, 2019

He signed bibles with the same hand he used — as President — to sign hush money checks to an adult film star. https://t.co/ecQH8ooJaf

— Ronald Klain (@RonaldKlain) March 8, 2019

I hope Trump leaves room in all the Bibles he signs for the other three horsemen.

— Jeremy Newberger (@jeremynewberger) March 8, 2019

Per a pool report from the tornado zone, the president *signed people’s Bibles* in Alabama today.

Old joke, adapted: –– What’s the difference between God and Donald Trump? –– God doesn’t think he’s Donald Trump. pic.twitter.com/y2nZwiHeXy

— David Martosko (@dmartosko) March 8, 2019

Those who would like to help survivors can contribute to the Governor’s Emergency Relief Fund or the Community Foundation of East Alabama. The American Red Cross at redcross.org or 1-800 RED Cross is also seeking donations.

The post Trump Signs Bibles At Alabama Church. Twitter Users Throw The Book At Him. appeared first on The Chestnut Post.

from The Chestnut Post https://thechestnutpost.com/news/trump-signs-bibles-at-alabama-church-twitter-users-throw-the-book-at-him/

[ho84cooper-blog]

November 2015.

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