#being raised in a catholic boy school

[alvadee]

I've said it before but I know my boy Vic had a ton of catholic guilt and it's so wild to get these random details even about his mom so many years later

[barksbog]

one of my favorite games to play with my friends is called "find him"

the way it works is:

i pull up austrian houses for sale

stream it to friends (photos are fine but 3D tours are obviously the best)

than we just look through trying to find the cruzifix boy.

when we locate him we all yell "THERE HE IS" "I FOUND HIM" ect.

optional: i will wiggle my mouse cursor over him while my friends point at their screens

that´s it. that´s the game!

a word of warning tho: you may encounter weird houses that haunt you like the "barn cube" and "red roof/wall/gutters kitchen utensil nightmare"

[edwinisms]

see I can’t accept charles’ comic background and socioeconomic status as canon for the show because if I did that would mean the whole group would be a bunch of rich kids and that’s a horrifying concept

[giantkillerjack]

In all my years, I've never seen a movie use non-christian pre-colonial religious imagery as a force of good against evil.

And the fact that in Wendall & Wild - a movie that takes place in a Catholic school, this type of imagery is portrayed as SO much more beautiful and powerful than the drab dreary Catholic imagery of the film... it was fuckin' rad as hell.

[maidservant-hecubus]

My father is an Ashkenazi Jew. His parents were first generation Americans. Their parents escaped the pogroms in Russia and Ukraine and came to find their American dream. They fought in wars and opened businesses and assimilated and my generation barely has a few words of Yiddish between us. My mother is as much of a WASP as it gets. American Revolutionaries and Signers and some household name civil war feature players. Not old money, but old America and undoubtedly white. I'm patrilineal. Not a Jew to a lot of Jews. Not a Jew to a lot of my Jewish family. Even though i was raised Jewish. Even though I look like my father. Even though i got enough of something in my DNA to get asked "What are you?" more often than not. More often than I'm just accepted at face value as "white". When i was little we lived in an Irish Catholic neighborhood. Like the 5-10 kids in every family sort of Irish catholic neighborhood. The kids calling me a christ killer and refusing to play with me because they heard it from their parents sort of irish catholic neighborhood. For some reason my parents tried to send me to the catholic school down the street. I lasted less than a week because i didn't understand their rituals and their language and they found out my father was a Jew and they couldn't have a christ killer in their midst. I was just sad i didn't get to wear the cute plaid skirt anymore. So i went to the public school and my well meaning shiksa mother who never converted but learned the Chanukah prayers and helped cook Seder dinners came to the school to teach the class about Chanukah. She taught them songs and all the kids got dreidels and had so much fun spinning the top for chocolate coins. It was nice to feel normal. A few weeks later a boy in a higher grade attacked me on the way to the bus and smashed my art project (we had made pig noses from solo cups to celebrate reading charlotte's web) into my face and called me a filthy jew. I didn't understand, i was more upset to lose the project i was so proud of. Other things happened. Things I wont talk about because putting them in context would doxx me. But a million reminders that i wasn't one of them. I wasn't welcome because i was Jewish. My parents divorced. My mother left. Far away so I'd only see her a handful of times growing up. And I went to live with my Dad in a city that seemed like it was overflowing with Jews. Everyone knew my holidays! In public school the teachers looked like my family and had familiar sounding names. We had the high holy days off just like christmas or easter. We sang Chanukah songs in the winter recital and nobody's mom had to come teach them to the class. Finally I belonged! My friends and cousins started planning for their b mitzvah celebrations and i asked for my own. I asked to go to hebrew school so i could be more like the people i belonged with and celebrate the things i loved about myself and them. "But you're not jewish." My father would say. This was news to me. The christ killer. The filthy jew. But a 10 year old has little power over their lives. So i didn't go. I didn't have a bat mitzva while my cousins had theirs. It was okay because i still belonged more than i ever had. But i was still jewish enough to keep the holidays and pray and fast and get sent with a box of matzo to my WASP grandmothers for easter, and have matzo packed in my lunch to eat in AP algebra in 7th grade and get asked if I'm a "Yid" by the teacher. And still to this day not know if it was endearment or insult but by then I knew even in this magical city being a Jew wasn't always safe. in highschool I tried to take hebrew lessons with a friend in a similar situation as me. She was also hungry to reconnect. I don't remember why the classes or the friendship fell through, but they did. My next "friend", a goy raised catholic from another neighborhood, liked to accuse me of being money driven when i picked up a penny on the sidewalk or tried to ask who was going to pay for the zine's she wanted to publish.

 "What are you?" I'd get asked a lot on the street by curious strangers, "Where are you from?" "Are you Italian?" Always Italian. I never really understood that, but its become code in my head for "You look like you're white but something about you is very not white and I just can't place it, so Italian seems safe and polite." I'm not here to unpack the Italian part of all that. I don't even know what I'm unpacking for myself by writing this except I've been sick for days and I'm so tired and this is all that my foggy brain can wrap itself around. Later I'm an adult and on my own and getting bloodwork done. The Nurse is a black woman and so sweet to me. She can tell I'm nervous about the needles because I've already stumbled through my apologies for my herd to find veins. So she distracts me with small talk. Where do i live? I tell her. She looks worried for me. Tells me that it used to be a nice neighborhood before white people took it over and she warns me like she's my own mother to be careful because they aren't safe. I doublecheck the skin she's putting a needle into. Whatever she sees isn't white. I love her for it. For a moment I belong there with her. She doesn't ask what I am or where i'm from, but she knows what i'm not. I'm the only one keeping the holidays with my family. We celebrate Passover because I go home to my fathers and cook the dinner and print out the Haggadah and lead the Seder to the tune of my drunk catholic stepmother eating my food and telling me i'll never be a jew. She's more of a jew than I'll ever be because she grew up in a jewish neighborhood and her friends were all jews and she married a jew and i was just playing pretend. I stopped going home for holidays and they stopped observing anything except Christmas. I marry a goy. "Is he a jew?" is the first thing my father asks and he's disappointed when i say no. He's abusive, i run. I end up living in the attic of this older old money WASP couple who need a live in house sitter. They're pillars of their church and they know someone from the WASP side of my family very well and its a funny coincidence and they think i belong there. I know from their divest from Israel bumper stickers that i don't. Then they find out I consider myself Jewish and i see the light in their eyes die and its replaced by something hard and disappointed. Now, while writing this, i can laugh about being the jew in someone's attic. But then, it was only a few months after that they started coming up with excuses for why I needed to move out. I did, their excuses never manifested into reality. I got married again. A jew this time! a Jewish medical professional liek grandma always wanted. She's a convert and her ex was a rabbinical student. I think maybe i'm home finally. She has to understand. I'm not Jewish enough for her. We don't keep holidays at home because i'm not a jew. I cry every year when pesach comes and goes and i haven't recited the plagues or eaten matzo piled high with horseradish. She insists on putting up a christmas tree. She turns abusive. I run.

I'm alone now and no longer in that magic jewish city. I'm far away and surrounded by mega churches and cows and the bagels suck and people quote the bible at me like some call and response that i don't have the cheat code for and I don't belong here at all but i'm finally finally free to light my menorah and recite the plagues and study torah with the group i found here on tumblr who love and accept me even though i'm patrilineal. Oct. 7th happened a few weeks after I moved here. I worry about my family back home and i think no one will look for Jews here among the cows and mega churches, so I can be a safe place for them to run if things get bad again. But i still don't fit in here. I don't look right. The last name I have now is common here and too white for whatever people see when they look in my face. I get interrogated about it a lot. But i learned quickly how to smile and say "have a blessed day". I hide my menorah when maintenance comes to work on my apartment. I flew home last month. Just for a visit. I've never been away from home this far or this long. And I'm the type that covers nerves and anxiety with chattiness, so at the airport i made a for-now-friend while we both waited for the plane to board. She's Puerto Rican. We talk about our lives. Our families. Her twin sister and i go by the same nickname and so we're family now. We talk about food. So much food and how much we love cooking and how important food was at home. "Are you Italian?" she asks as we're stepping through the hatch into the plane. Why always Italian? I wonder for the millionth time in my life. And I freeze up for a moment between fighting my carry-on over the gap and terror that I'm about to see the light go out behind her eyes and i'll lose this for-now friend. "No," i laugh but its not a real laugh and i see the concern in her face as we squeeze through the aisle because she can hear the apprehension in my voice, "I'm Jewish." And something strange happened because her face lit up and she smiled and said "No way?! You guys have GREAT food!"

[morganski-19]

part 1, part 2, part 3

Wayne stays at the hospital longer than he should. Rubbing his fingers along Eddie’s pick necklace like a rosary. Hoping that if he just prays hard enough, if his voice can be heard, Eddie will wake up. 

The prognosis isn’t great. Each day that passes marks another day where his chances of waking up get lower. Even though many people have woken up from medically induced comas much later than this. According to the doctors. According to the pamphlets given to him at the start of all of this shit. But those are just words. Words he doesn’t believe fully. 

Six days with no changes. No improvement. Just a tube to make sure he’s breathing regularly and an IV to make sure he doesn’t die of dehydration or starvation. The doctors say that his brain still shows activity, and his heart hasn’t missed a beat since he was last revived. Eddie’s alive, but just how much?

How much longer will Wayne sit in this agony waiting for him to wake up? Or how long until the string of hope just ends six feet under? 

Religion was something that Wayne dealt with sporadically. He was raised Catholic, sort of still is a practicing Catholic. Goes to church when he isn’t too tired, still prays, and goes to confession sometimes. Just didn’t always make sense. But now, it’s all he’s got. 

Eddie’s in God’s hands now. Whether that’s the God in the Bible, or some other deity of the many other religions in the world, Wayne doesn’t care anymore. As long as he’s heard, and this being knows his boy is good. That he was taken far too soon. 

Eddie liked to say there was nothing much for him past high school. That he was going to run out of town as soon as he could and fight to make something of himself. Be a struggling musician, find odd jobs. Anything to keep him out of the monotony of a corporate job. Get him away from the conservative views and stuffiness of this town. Somehow get big enough to prove them all that he wasn’t a failure. Or never come back to prove them all right. 

It would be a sad day when Eddie finally left for good. The trailer would seem empty without the life that Eddie brought. The peace and quiet that Wayne always asked for not bringing any peace because it was too damn quiet. He knew this now because it’s what’s keeping him here each day. 

The beeping of the heart monitor was like the heart beating in his chest. Some noise came from Eddie to prove that he was alive. Almost like he was acting himself again. The motel room he was staying in was too quiet. No music down the hall, no clanking around the kitchen, no yelling at the TV or a book. Just the occasional noise if there were neighbors and people driving to the hospital. It was all the wrong noise, though. 

“Excuse me,” a nurse says as she enters the room. “Visiting hours are over, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Wayne nods, getting up from his chair. Back screaming as it pops itself back into place. It’s his day off, or night off tonight, so he can actually sleep. If it ever comes to him. Might be one of those nights where the ceiling and him have a staring contest. He’s been close, but never quite won one of those yet. 

The Chief’s car sits outside of the motel as Wayne pulls up. It’s only been a day since they spoke last, there can’t be that many updates. Wayne can’t think of any other reason he’s here. 

Wayne invites him into the motel room, the urge to offer him a drink screaming at him, but he has none to give. Hospitality doesn’t come with the room fees. 

“I’m guessing there’s something new, that’s why you're here.”

“Not necessarily. I’m still trying, but until the one guy I normally negotiate with comes out of hiding, that’s when the real talking happens.”

Wayne sits down on one of the chairs, too tired to keep standing. “Why’re you here then?”

“To check on you. I know the hospital life well. It’s no picnic, especially if you’re doing it alone.” He pulls another one of the chairs over to sit down. 

There’s no lie in that. “I’m about as good as anyone could think.”

The Chief pulls two beers out from under his coat, handing one to Wayne. He takes it faster than any beer he has in his life. Pulling out his pocket knife to take off the cap. 

“How long till that friend of yours comes out of hiding?”

Hopper shrugs. “Don’t know. Sent him a few threatening letters, and he still owes me one, so we’ll see. If things were better here, I’d go hunt the man down myself.”

Wayne nods. The company’s nice, he can’t lie. Sitting in solidarity with someone who knows what you’ve been through. Making sure nothing’s going worse than it already is. Like a sponsor through the hospital proceedings. 

When the sun finally finishes setting, the chief excuses himself. Not before handing Wayne a slip of paper with his number on it, just in case anything happens. 

The more days go by, the more Wayne is reminded that he’s not alone in this. Not fighting this battle alone. People believe him, more than just kids. People with influence. It shows in how people keep coming in and out of the hospital room. Saying how they know he’s innocent. That he’s guilty of some things, but not this. 

It makes him think back to that afternoon, snapping at the Harrington kid. It’s so easy to be angry at people who are better off, in so many ways, that vision gets blinded. Seeing someone who went through something similar to Eddie get out, and be conscious while his boy is still asleep. Probably will never have to worry about hospital bills and medical debt. It makes him angry. 

Even if the kid doesn’t deserve it. Wayne has no clue who this kid is and how he knows Eddie. Why he claims to have been there in the week Eddie was missing. What it all means. It doesn’t make any sense. None at all. 

But then the next morning when he’s getting coffee, there’s the kid again coming in beside Dustin. Talking to someone at the front desk before heading down the hall. Right to the elevator, and up to the floor Eddie’s on. 

Wayne heads back to the room, ready to kick him out again or apologize. He’s not sure yet. But, the room is empty. Steve is instead down the hall, talking to Susan Mayfield. Looking serious as hell, and halfway ready to cry. 

Another kid comes out of the room, one who’s stopped by a few times to check on Eddie. Lucas, Wayne thinks is his name. Remembers it only because Eddie had ranted a few times about some kid named Lucas trying to be on both the basketball team and part of the Dragons club. 

The kid says something to Steve before he’s being wrapped in a hug and starts crying. Steve just holding him as this kid breaks down. Presumably about the person behind those doors. Wayne assumes it’s probably Susan’s kid. Remembers hearing that she was in bad shape. Hopefully, that didn’t get any worse. 

Wayne returns to his room, not wanting to intrude. A nurse comes in a while later and asks him to step out for a bit. 

“What for?”

“Eddie’s breathing has improved over the last twenty-four hours. The doctor came in to check on him early this morning, and said that if by noon it was the same, the breathing tube could come out.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Wayne’s hesitant to believe anything these days. 

The nurse nods. “As long as his oxygen levels stay, well level, then yes. It means that his body is well on the way to recovery.”

Wayne nods, taking his coffee to the waiting room. There, he just waits.

Next part

Note: The next part of this will get a bit interesting. I've been having ideas for a while now of making this duel POV between Wayne and someone else, maybe Steve. Mainly because I keep thinking of conversations that would happen, but Wayne would be nowhere to witness it. But I think what this fic needs is a POV not directly in the main relationship that will be happening, to keep it an outsider POV fic. So I'm thinking that the second POV would be from either Robin or Dustin. I'm currently deciding between the two so let me know what you think. I'm also going to start posting this to ao3, and will provide the link to that once I think of a title. I will continue to post the smaller parts here on tumblr, and you will not be missing out on any of the story if you only follow it on here. For now all of the parts will also have the tag #morgan's wayne POV. If that changes, as it probably will since this is no longer just a wayne POV fic, I will let you know. Also, Max is alive, they just got a heavy diagnosis that you will learn of later.

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77, @here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium, @resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly, @gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight, @devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug, @greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake, @morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs

[bethanythebogwitch]

Fun adventures for Luce and friends to have:

-get traumatized by the threat of eternal torture

-be trained to dehumanize people (including herself) to the point she thinks they actually deserve eternal torture

-become indoctrinated into indefensible nonsense at an age too young to reason, backed up with the threat of a fate worse than death to keep her from thinking her way out later in life

-give up her hard-earned money to a ludicrously wealthy organization who preaches modesty and poverty while hoarding and displaying obscene wealth

-learn to dehumanize and hate LGBTQIA people for traits they have no control over

-be taught that being a girl makes her inferior to boys

-get abused in a Catholic orphanage or school

-get sexually assaulted by the priest she was raised to see as trustworthy, then watch him receive no punishment. Bonus: get blamed for causing trouble and spreading lies when she tries to get help

-get killed and buried in an unmarked mass grave behind a residential school

Feel free to suggest your own, I'm sure I missed plenty of other atrocities.

[hihomeghere]

Modern BF!Javier Escuella. Capricorn ♑️ • Is that guy who if he sees a guitar at a party he will start playing it • If he gets a call from one of his family members expect him to be on the phone for the next three hours • Mama’s boy! • Baby, sweetheart, my love • Will flirt with you and be surprised when you flirt back • Stronger than he looks, will throw you over his shoulder if you’re being a ‘brat’ • Thought about becoming a singer, but doesn’t have enough confidence in himself. Still loves to make up songs • Thinks sitting on a dock for seven hours is a date. Will take you fishing whenever you want • Giggly drunk! • Weather wuss, says he’s ’not made for the cold!’. Will stick his hands under your shirt to warm up • Used to spend the summers on his tio’s ranch • Huge klepto, you’ll lose a jacket or shirt and catch him wearing it two weeks later • Loves to go thrifting, but ends up spending more money than he should because it’s ‘cheaper’ • Always goes to midnight mass every Christmas with his mamá, even if he doesn’t want to • Did play guitar for/at you on your first date • Raised Catholic • Is very meticulous about his face and hair routine. Never skips it, has a million different products • Has tattoos but hides them every time he does to his parents house • English was his best class in high school • Will not confess he likes you first, you’ll have to do that • Likes to cum on you • Loves to smack your ass

[demiromanticmickey]

On today's "I am SO not normal about Dead Friend Forever": Discussing Catholicism and Colonization in this gay Thai slasher series

Some background on me: I am from a Latine Catholic family. Raised as a non-practicing Catholic (we didn't go to church or pray). Then my parents enrolled me in a Catholic school that I attended from 5th grade to the end of 7th grade. Today, I am not Catholic and have never really considered myself as such.

Ok, so in the flashback episodes of DFF, I have been noticing a lot of things. My findings under the cut.

Let's start with this crucifix and photo of the Virgin Mary and a baby Jesus.

Screenshot from ep. 5.

The camera lingers here a bit so we're obviously meant to pay attention to the phrase. I put the screenshot through Google translate's image translator and the translation it gave me was, "Think good, do good, be a good person." I didn't think much of it when I first watched the episode other than it was supposed to establish that the boys attend a Christian or Catholic school.

But then there was this image posted on Be On Cloud's Instagram (also from ep. 5): X

Zooming in, we can see there's another picture of Mary in the background. Watching the classroom scenes, it's easy to miss because the series itself is more washed out than the official photos posted. But this emphasis on Mary led me to believe the school is a Catholic one. So out of curiosity, I looked up the schools the writers and directors attended because I felt I was onto something here. And boy, was I!

Source: MDL

Ma-Deaw, if you didn't know, is one of the directors of Dead Friend Forever (he also directed Manner of Death and Inhuman Kiss , and lots of other things).

One Google search later (X) and I learned "Montfort College" is a Catholic school. It started out as a primary school that later added a secondary school as well.

Now let's take a closer look at some of the details of this school:

First, the school's motto "Labor Conquers All Things". This reminded me of the phone conversation Tee had with his uncle:

On my first watch, this sounded familiar to me but I couldn't really place why. It wasn't until I saw this other Tumblr post (X) that pointed out it's similar to a bible quote from the New Testament. The quote varies a bit depending on which version of the bible you're using but it's along the lines of, "He who does not work, neither shall he eat".

This is meant to discourage "laziness". Nevermind the fact that people deserve to eat simply because we get hungry and need food to survive. The idea that we only "deserve" things based on productivity is an extremely colonial one. — Reminder also that Tee is being forced into this "work" in the first place. He's just a high school kid. I don't need to like his character to understand how fucked up his situation is.

Then there's the patron of the school. St. Louis de Montfort was a French Catholic priest most known for his study in Mariology. What is Mariology (X)? The study of Mary, the mother of Jesus. I didn't know that was a thing but it's unsurprising considering how prominent images of Mary were in my own religious upbringing. And she's what started me down this rabbit hole in the first place. Mary is a big deal to the Catholics. I'm going to be paying even more attention now if more Mary imagery pops up.

The Garden of Eden and Original Sin

Now I want to draw attention to these images:

Screenshots from ep. 7

Here we have Non and Phee biting into an apple as they leisure around this lush green field. We know they've visited this location more than once because they're wearing different outfits in the screenshots. And I think it's important to note that it's Phee holding the apple and offering it to Non.

The use of the word "bait" in the bts of ep. 7 is quite interesting too. (X)

The Garden of Eden was the paradise in which Adam and Eve resided. In this garden, there were many trees to eat from. The one tree Adam and Eve were forbidden by God to eat from was the Tree of Knowledge. A serpent (Satan), first tempted Eve into taking from the tree to eat it's fruit. And then Eve gave the fruit to Adam. That is Original Sin. And because Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge, all humans thereafter are born sinful and bad, and can only find salvation through God.

Of course in the scene between Phee and Non, the sin the apple represents is being gay. And it's after this, and after the bracelet scene, that Non becomes involved with Por's film and his tragedy begins.

Zoomed in screenshot from ep. 5

And I wonder if the bracelet scene is the last time Phee and Non visit this forest location. It would parallel how Adam and Eve were cast out of the Garden of Eden once they sinned.

Final Thoughts

You give me a story that criticizes Western religion and how it's used as a tool for oppression and colonization, and I'm gonna eat that shit up. I am gonna eat it up. Every. Single. Time.

I really wasn't expecting anything like this from Dead Friend Forever. This level in attention to detail is unmatched. I don't think I've watched a more well planned out show. And no matter where DFF goes from here, these seven episodes will always hold a special place in my heart. 💗

[escapaldi]

#everyday i unwillingly learn something abt law that makes me kin him more

you can't hide in the tags what everyone's thinking

One lighthearted note of Law's backstory is that he was raised Catholic. Which means that Oda made catholicism Canon in his wacky pirate adventure. And I think that's hilarious.

I thought about the fact Law was raised catholic and went to a catholic school (as someone who did the same) but just now i realise that fucking makes Jesus canon in the One Piece universe

[boxkitkat]

Random post on some small ZSakuVA verse headcannons! <3

(Mainly for Isaac and Elias o(>ω<)o)

Isaac: Isaac probably has a habit of doing that little leg bounce whenever he’s anxious. Before he met the listener and got closer with them he probably smelled A LOT like coffee.

When he was probably 8-11 he took piano lessons for a while but simply didn’t feel like music was something he was interested in.

Isaac as a kid (like around 5-7 years old) would struggle with sleeping so his mom (maybe sometimes joined by his dad) would end up helping him go to sleep by playing with his hair, putting on a small puppet show for him while reading a bed time story with cute animal hand puppets.

His favorite bugs are blue butterflies and ladybugs because they would remind him of whenever he helped his mom in the gardens and little butterflies and ladybugs would show up near the flowers in the spring.

He finds hot chocolate or a warm tea comforting on cloudy or rainy days.

His houses garden would probably have like a miniature waterfalls here and there.

Isaac probably has a messenger for himself like Adriel did to communicate through his workers, or just emails them or calls them but never meets any of his workers in person face to face.

He would be a girl dad. Dressing up in frilly princess dresses with plastic tiaras and attending the finest tea parties with the most high quality and rich wooden biscuits and cookies all to make his daughter happy. Of course when he had the time to. He probably has a black silk robe. Wouldn’t be surprised. As well as a really high quality grey or navy blue kimono stashed away in his closet. Maybe a gift from one of his older clients who is aware of his ethnicity background.

He’s really ticklish behind his knee.

He definitely has a disappointed and judgmental Asian dad glare if you do anything stoopid in-front of him.

He would appreciate the listener helping him with taking care of orchids that he gotten, maybe hug the listener from behind with his arms around their waist while they gently watered the orchids and he gives em a small peck on the cheek :D

He’s got a whole bunch of fancy watches, some as gifts from his clients and some from a collection his grandpa probably had of watches.

Elias: He’s mixed with Mexican and Filipino background, the Hispanic side from his mom and the Filipino side from his dad. He likes Thai food a lot. Specially Pad Thai noodles.

Some of his fave desserts are Ube cookies, and concha’s (specifically the white ones).

He would like to hold a grill with his old friends from high school.

He would tackle an enemy down like a football player.

He definitely uses the word “opp” in an unironic way.

He wears compression shirts during a workout, or loose no sleeve shirts that show off his muscles.

Kinda random but he was taller than most of the other Saku verse boys during their tween years.

In middle school and high school he would get really dirty and hurt a lot (scratches, bruises, etc) due to playing sports with his friends.

(this head cannon is inspired off of another crumpets head cannon so credits to them for this idea!) His mom was religious (not crazy religious but yknow) catholic to be specific so he was raised with an upbringing of some religious faith. He isn’t super religious himself tho, not as much as him mom was. And also he probably has a cross necklace as well that he sometimes wears.

Elias wears mostly silver jewelry because it goes well with his skin complexion.

Listens to the reggaeton genre usually and rap too, he would definitely get jiggy with it to El Coco No.

Speaking of dancing, Elias is probably a pretty good dancer but insists that he’s okayish.

He’d make listener dance with him, especially if it’s a romantic song.

He likes some of Franks Sinatras music mainly because it makes him think of his listener probably or his mom due to Franks music (from what I’ve heard) being very sentimental.

He likes to make himself banana milkshakes sometimes in the mornings.

He’s got a sick belt collection and is very much proud of it and WILL show it off to anyone who asks. He’d wear them on special occasions tho or not at all cuz they are his precious babies.

His jaw can open oddly enough very widely without dislocating it somehow.

He’d probably do that thing where people lift up their eyelids inside out to mess with James because James finds it icky and recoils and cringes at it. (He’s done this ever since he was 10 when he discovered James didn’t like that.)

His go to late night snack is a PB&J sandwich or instantly noodles.

Luca: He has a high pitched scream.

He’d have a comfort pillow, he’d cuddle it incase whenever his listener isn’t home (like on a business trip or something)

He has flat hair so he tries to blow dry it to make it have more volume but it isn’t able to hold up for long after a while sometimes.

His hair is very shiny.

He brings a small lotion bottle with him wherever he goes to keep his hands and arms moisturized.

He’s sometimes tempted to eat things that aren’t edible but look edible.

Half of his twitter feed is cats and capybaras.

He might’ve been in a few clubs in high school, like chest or volunteering work.

Luca was a really energetic kid with the people he was closest with and his parents would sometimes struggle keeping up with that.

He liked sandwiches a lot as a kid, he still does and I think he would have a great appreciation for those little tea sandwiches. He’d absolutely adore those sandwiches.

Whenever he’s cooking he puts little hair clips on so his hair doesn’t get in the way of his face and distract him while cooking or getting any hair into the food he’s making. The hair clips probably have little animals on them.

Small head-cannons for the others!:

Andrew likes to wear a lot of gold jewelry, he stretches a lot from having bad seating posture making his body feel sore. Kayson definitely plays around with his brothers by picking them up and throwing them over his shoulder, he’d do this a few time with his listener as well if they are being bratty or playful. Dontis wears those Hawaiian shirts and has crazy bed head. Jonah likes to dye his hair a lot with a bunch of different bright colors, his hair is very dead, and he likes subtle vanilla scents. Rowan likes garlic bread and he gently rubs his listeners hand with his thumb whenever therye nervous or upset. Asirel owns a sick blood red sports car and sometimes sun tans next to his smancy fancy pool with a speedo on and some fancy sunglasses (gotta keep the tan up.)

Okayy thats all for now!! Hope you enjoyed reading and ty for listening to me share! And ofc pls feel free to say your own personal thoughts and feelings on my head cannons or your own personal head cannons! Ty Crumpet Nation! ☆ ～('▽^人)

[fizzing-imagines]

Agony | Gareth Emerson x Cheerleader! Reader

Notes: Before you read, be aware that Reader is dating someone else in this. I had to make Reader from a catholic family to make this work. MDNI, 18+ only

Warnings: Descriptive abusive relationship, hint at being talked into having sex, hint at restrictive eating, a very short sex scene

Word Count: 2.9k

"Watch where you're going, freak.", your boyfriend Andy said as he purposely ran into and pushed down one of the students from Hellfire. You knew him, he was in your social studies class. "Andy, that's enough.", you scolded him. Your boyfriend gave you a confused look as you helped him gather his books. "Sorry. Hope your okay.", you said to Gareth before grabbing Andy by the arm and dragging him away.

That was your first interaction with Gareth.

The same night, you had a huge fight with Andy. He accused you of liking the 'freak boy', asked why you helped him. "Because he's also a human, Andy." You tried your best to remain calm, it was your way of trying to controll his bad temper. While you truly loved Andy, he gets angry easily. But there was one safe strategy to this. "Come on, Andy." You wrapped your left arm around his torso and cupped his face with your right hand. It gave him the perfect view of your cleavage, and made your eyes look especially big and innocent. "I like helping people. That's why you love me, don't you?" With a sigh and a small eye roll, he let out a small "Sure." His hands found your hips and held on tightly. "There's some other things you do that I love." One swift movement later, you were laying on Andys bed, underneath him.

You're fucked. In social studies, you were given presentation assignments and partnered with a random person to work with for two weeks. Just your luck, you were partnered with Gareth. Despite it not being your fault, you knew Andy would pick a fight over it. Regardless, you and Gareth pushed your chairs together and looked at the topic you were supposed to write about. "Write about your favourite moment from world history.", you read out loud. Gareth seemed happy about it, but you furrowed your brows. "The only history I know about is cheerleading and the crusades." Gareth gave you a raised eyebrow. "Crusades?", he asked before grinning in amusement. "That's a wild card." You laughed a bit at his words. "My family's catholic, that was kinda our thing." So, the crusades it was. Both of you told your teacher about the topic you chose do your assignment about. "Whatever we can't finish now, we can do after school.", Gareth suggested. The thought alone made you nervous, considering Andy. "Uhm...I-I don't know...you know how my boyfriend is..." He knew how he was, but what worried him is that you looked very scared. "Well, maybe we'll do it at your house with one of your siblings around?" His suggestion sounded fair enough to you.

But it didn't to Andy. "Why the fuck would you even agree to hang out with the freak?!" He yelled at you in the parking lot after school. "It's for school, Andy...", you defended yourself in a quiet voice. "I don't fucking care, you should've asked for another partner! Are you actually that stupid?!" Your eyes started watering at his words. "I'm sorry...", you mumbled while holding back tears. "Sorry isn't gonna fix how dumb you are." He turned around and got in his car, the door slammed shut and it made you flinch. You watched him drive off before getting into your own car to cry. After a good 15 minutes, there was a knock at your window. It was Gareth. You rolled down your window with one hand while whiping your tears with the other. "You okay?", he asked in a worried tone. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.", you lied. "Just...frustrated about cheerleading, is all." He didn't believe you, but he wouldn't say that out loud. "Hey, uhm, my friends all kinda dipped out on me, do you wanna start the assignment today?" You couldn't, not after that fight with Andy. "I have cheer practice out of school today. We can stick to Thursday, okay?" He reluctantly nodded before saying goodbye and "I hope you feel better soon.", then getting into his own car.

At home, you already started reading through your books about crusades. You tried at least, because Andys words still rung in your ears. All your life, you didn't feel stupid. Sure, some classes are harder than others but you weren't an idiot. At least you didn't think that until you started dating Andy. Every time a boy looked at you the wrong way, flirted or stepped too close, he called you oblivious, dumb or stupid for not realising it. Many times, it didn't even seem like flirting to you. But Andy was a guy, he must know...right? "Honey, Andys here!", your mother yelled from downstairs pulled you out of your thoughts. His footsteps approached your upstairs room and the door opened slowly. "Hey.", he said in a calm tone. You got up from your bed to walk over to him. "Hey.", you said back. Your boyfriend closed the door behind him before putting his hands on your hips. "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have yelled at you." An actual apology from him is rare. "It's okay if you can't always think of smart solutions, you're good at other things. You just leave the thinking to me next time, yeah?" Did he genuinely think you were stupid? Maybe he's right...he does know you best. "Sure. Thank you, Andy." You said as you wrapped your arms around his torso. "I think there's a way you can make that mistake up to me.", Andy said as he slowly led you towards your bed. Honestly, you didn't feel like it but he'll start another fight if you'd say no. So you just follow lead.

Gareth came to your house on Thursday, two days later. You already put all the books you had on crusades on the dining table in your home in the morning, so both if you just drove to your house after school to start on the assignment. "So, we should probably explain what a crusade is first, and then talk about the big eight ones in more detail. I mean, there's minor ones but if we were to talk about all of them we'd be there for hours." You laughed a bit at your own words. "You know a lot about that, huh?", Gareth asked with a small smile. "Oh, it's just something my brothers liked when I was a child. I'd always sit quietly on the stairs when they watches Gates Of Paradise in the living room." He laughed a bit on your words. "Well, you're the smart one here. I'll just follow your lead." Those words struck a bit. "Oh no, I'm not that smart.", you said with a small wave of your hand before opening your first book. Gareth, however, was very confused by your self-degrading words. "Do you wanna talk about what crusades are, then I talk about the first big one, and we just switch back and forth?", you asked. Honestly, he was still taken aback by your comment, but he didn't want to bring it up again; he wasn't your friend, it would be too invasive. Having Gareth there for your assignment was odd - you didn't actually feel so stupid when you worked with him. It made you doubt Andys words for the following days.

"Mornin' baby.", Andy grumbled next to you. Both of you were at a party the night before, where Andy got extremely drunk and threw up in his driveway, bathroom and the side of the road on the way back. You stayed sober, being the designated driver like you were every time the two of you went to a party. "Promise I'll drive next time.", he mumbled as his arms snaked around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Andy promised that every time he woke up hungover. "Sure.", you whispered as you pulled the sheets up higher. "You okay?" He let out a low groan, indicating his raging headache. "Need some aspirin?" Andy hummed in response, so you got up and walked to his bathroom where you got his aspirin. After going downstairs to get a glass of water, you walked back into his room. "There you go.", you said as you put his things down on the messy nightstand. "Andy, I need to get home soon for my assignments. You want me to come over again later?" He turned to look at you through squinted eyes. "Sure. You can make me feel better then, hm?" You were at a point where the thought of having sex with Andy grossed you out - it made you feel tainted every time. But fighting with him made you feel even worse. "Sure, I'll see you later. Let's say around six, I'll bring dinner." He gave you a small smile and a pat on your thigh. "You're not that dumb after all." Sure, let's say that.

Gareth didn't make you feel stupid. In fact, you were looking foward to working with him again. He didn't make you feel nearly as stupid as Andy did. On your way to his house, you picked up coffee, donuts and bacon & egg breakfast muffins for the both of you. A short drive later, you were already knocking on his front door to be greeted by his mother. "Good morning.", you said to her with a smile. "I'm Gareths assignment partner, we wanted to continue working on it today." She smiled at you. "He's up in his room. Come in, I'll fetch him for you." His mother made you sit at the dining table where you also put the food down until Gareth emerged form his room. "Morning.", he said as he slumped down next to you. He looked like he just woke up, so you slid him his coffee. "Just rolled out of bed, huh?", you asked with a small laugh before taking a sip of your coffee. "Rough night.", Gareth mumbled. "Thanks for the coffee." He drank a lot of it in one gulp, but it seemed to kick in really fast. "I also brought food.", you said as you slid the brown paper bag with his donut and breakfast muffins towards him. "Take your time, I'm free until five." Gareth ate his breakfast quickly, so quickly that you gave him your donut, but he fully enjoyed it. "You're honestly the best, (Y/N). I couldn't have a better partner." It sounded wrong, and in the back of your mind you knew that Andy would kill him for that comment, but you didn't say anything. "I try my best.", you said with a small smile. "It's nice to be appreciated for once." Those words slipped out without you thinking about what you were saying. Your eyes went wide as he looked up at you with a questioning and concerned look. Shit. "What do you mean?", he asked you. You mumbled out a few excuses, that you didn't mean it like that and that you didn't mean to say it, but it didn't change his concerns. In fact, he worried a lot since he first worked with you and you basically called yourself stupid. "It's, uhm..." Maybe it would be relieving if you talked about this to someone. All your friends were on the cheer team, it would find it's way to Andy. "My boyfriend, he...well, he made me realise I'm not really smart. But even when I think I have a good idea, he thinks it's stupid, so...it's nice to have that appreciated." Gareth started hating Andy even more at that very moment. He didn't know you too well, but he knew you weren't dumb. In fact, he admired how well you did in social studies despite not liking it much. "You're not stupid, (Y/N), if anything he's stupid for saying that." His words gave you a funny feeling in your stomach. "Oh, I don't know.", you said. "I'm good at other things. Cheerleading, driving, se-" Luckily, you cut yourself off. "S-sewing." He raised an eyebrow. "Sewing?" Your cheeks have turned a deep shade of red. Did you seriously almost say the word Sex in front of Gareth? "Y-yeah. I sew my own bows. You know, for cheerleading." He laughed before finishing his coffee. "I've heard worse excuses. Good one." You forced out a chuckle while your face was still flushed red. "Coming up with that excuse on the spot is pretty smart, you know." By now, you couldn't look him in the eyes anymore. "I know it's not my business, but you deserve someone who doesn't make you feel stupid. Because you really are not."

Gareths words stuck with you more than Andys did. They meant more to you than your boyfriends words, his didn't sting as much anymore. As you were riding him and he finished inside you, your mind wasn't even with him anymore; it was with Gareth. He looked so cute after he just woke up...what were you thinking? This can't be right, can it? "Fuck, you're incredible." Andy groaned once he came down from his high. "You're my own little pornstar, aren't you?" You gave him a small smile as you got down, since he wouldn't try to make you cum anyways, and cuddled up to him. "You're usually not this needy afterwards.", Andy commented. There were no words you could possibly say right now. You were too deep in your own head, thinking of nobody but Gareth. No way in hell could you develop a crush on him. "I just...love you an extra lot today." You said to your boyfriend. "Aren't you cute?", he said before giving you a kiss on your forehead. If you'd convince yourself enough, you'll stop developing feelings for Gareth and fully love Andy again.

Your plan was mediocre at best. Both you and Andy started fighting more, he accused you of cheating, called you stupid multiple times a day. It peaked when he called you a whore because you had to meet with Gareth for your assignment. At this point, you completely lost feelings for him. Every time he came around with a fake apology, every time he convinced you to have sex with you as an apology, every kiss on the forehead afterwards, it made you feel dirty. At this point, you were eating less, showered twice a day and changed your sheets daily. It was a rapid decline over the course of one and a half weeks. And with the deadline of your assignment approaching, meaning you won't have an excuse to spend time with Gareth anymore, you grew anxious. He made you feel good about yourself in a way no friend or, god forbid, your boyfriend could.

"Hey, Gareth?" Might as well take a risk. "My brothers wanna do a movie night tomorrow. I thought Gates Of Paradise would be something you'd like, considering our assignment." He smiled at your suggestion, a genuine smile not even close to what Andy gave you. "That sounds great.", he said. Since the both of you finished the assignment that day, it made you truly happy that he was willing to spend time with you outside of schoolwork.

"It's just with my brothers.", you said to Andy when he asked why he couldn't join you for movie night. "I promised them some time with just me because I've been so busy with the assignment." He sighted at your words. "But you'll be here tomorrow?", he asked as his hands cupped your cheeks. Gross. "Yes, Andy, just you, me and The Outsiders." He smirked before giving you a quick peck on the lips. "How about you bring those pretty silk PJ's that drive me insane?" No thank you. "They're in the washer right now. How about your shirt?" That still pleased him, although not like your silk pyjamas did.

It didn't matter what you wore when Gareth was around you, he was kind to you regardless. You were in an oversized Pointer Sisters shirt and boxershorts you wore over your underwear when your elder brother led him into the living room. "Hey Gare.", you greeted him with a smile. Gareth plopped down on the couch next to you while your brothers made a construction of pillows and blankets on the floor to lay on. Your younger sister joined them on the floor as well since she was finally old enough to watch crusade movies without peeking from the stairs like you did as a child. "I didn't know what sodas you liked, so I brought a few.", Gareth said as he handed you a sixpack of cherry coke, a sixpack of sprite and a sixpack of diet coke. "Diet cokes good.", you said with a smile. "Yeah, ever since she's been on that new diet of hers.", your eldest brother commented as he took the sodas out of my hands. "Cherry coke's her favourite if she's not trying to loose whatever weight she thinks she needs to loose." You threw a pillow from the couch after him as he left the living room. "It's just for practice." but Gareth didn't buy that explanation. He didn't want to say anything in front of your family, but he did make a mental note to himself. Your other brother and your sister left the room to grab snacks and the movie, leaving you two alone for a few minutes. "Andy doesn't know you're here, by the way.", you said. "He...well, he doesn't really like you. Actually, he's jealous. Thinks you wanna steal me from him."

Oh, if you knew.

[kaytheday]

Dallas Winston In New York Headcanon

I've been wanting to do some of these for a little while because I am fascinated with Dallas's life before the events of The Outsiders.

Story Headcanon's

Dallas had a bad home life. His mother was in and out of the house and when he turned ten she was gone for good.

Later he grew to understand that his mother was a prostitute. 

His father canonically hit him and ignored him. I think this messed young Dallas up, and definitely contributed to his ‘look out for number one’ attitude.

He was ten years old the first time he was in jail or juvie or whatever they called it in the 1960s. He was put in jail for a robbery with some other boys.

Being in juvie for the first time also changed him. The reformatory in the Bronx wasn’t a good institution. While he did his time, other boys and the workers there beat on him, boys often didn’t have enough to eat, and the conditions were filthy. He came out hardened and meaner with black eyes and a selfish attitude.

He would be in and out of juvie or reformatory for the rest of his time in New York.

He was twelve when he started middle school and in the same year he started doing favors for an official outfit. He mostly just ran errands or did other low level stuff. Though this didn’t mean that he didn’t see anything terrible. He definitely did.

Later when he got into the 13-14 year old age, they let him do more high level crime stuff. 

He saw many murders while living in the impoverished neighborhood that he did. A couple of the ones were similar to the way he died. (getting shot while shooting at the police) Whether or not he got the idea from those shootings or it was in his subconscious can be debated. 

When he became an official mob associate, he became very paranoid and careful. After getting beat up by mob members for a stupid mistake, he became worried that he would be wacked.

He was anxious and was always watching his back. He worried constantly about being followed.

He was always prepared for a quick getaway, though he never originally planned on leaving New York City.

He left New York when he was 15 because he did a job wrong and accidentally got someone killed. Due to his paranoia he got out of town quickly and went down to Dallas Texas. 

While in Dallas he meets Buck Merrill who offers him a room in return for some work at the bar. That's how he gets into Tulsa.  

General Headcanon's

Dallas was born and raised in the Bronx. (I just see him as a Bronxy boy)

He got his St. Christopher's necklace from some Roman Catholic guy who lived in his building. The guy gave him a jacket as a favor and the necklace was in the pocket. He slept on this guys couch more than once because of his dad.

He learned how to bartend by watching bartenders at the Snakehead bar. Which was a gang hang out for some guys Dallas was associating with. 

He quickly learned not to trust anybody. He gathered this through his interactions in his home life and gang stuff. Because of this, he didn't have very many close friends and was always disappearing when he thought people were mad at him.

There were some kids in his building that used to beat him up. They stopped when they heard he had gangster friends.

He watched many gangsters die, he threw up the first time but after that he became indifferent to it. 

When he left New York, he took none of his parents' possessions. There was nothing he wanted.

There was one night a few weeks before Dallas left for good that his father was beating him. In between hits Dallas managed to get a gun out of his pocket. His father stopped and left the house. Dallas still doesn’t know why he didn’t kill him. 

He cried after his mom left.

He stopped crying all together when those kids made fun of him and then beat him up so bad he could hardly walk for the next few days. The next time he cried was in the hospital when died.

Upon comparing the reformatory he spent time at in New York versus the reformatory in Tulsa, he would say that the one in Tulsa was significantly nicer.

[hotchfiles]

↪ day one. childhood — #marchhotchness

Childhood. What are some headcanons you have of his childhood, how do you think he was at school, at home, stuff like that, anything you can think about or have thought about.

first of all, all hotch gals and pals should read this masterpiece by @hardlyinteresting. bee captured perfectly everything i've been thinking about his childhood recently and i think she wrote it in the most beautiful way, so that's a must to understand how i think about it.

we don't hear much about his mother throughout the series and for me that speaks volumes because we do hear a good amount about his father. the only thing we know is where she was born and where she went for college. sure, hotch is a private person but for me that means his mother is a sore subject. so why?

we know his father died young, either of a heart failure or lung cancer, and that he was a cheater, a spender, a lawyer. still, even with the grievances against his father, when sean decides not to go to law school, hotch says "you've always wanted to be a lawyer, like me, like dad.", so he still looks up to his father in a way. and then sean responds with "yeah, look what that got him, death by heart failure at 47." which tells me sean blames their dad for dying young, because he left them alone with their mother.

hotch comes from an abusive home, but it wasn't their father, it was their mother. she was bred to be a high achieving socialite, she cared about appearances in the same way the mother of the episode hotch speaks about his mother, he wouldn't bring it up if they weren't similar.

by his knowledge of scripture we know he was raised catholic, probably forced fed the bible by his mother and priests who had no idea what they were actually saying because they cared more about being influential in virginia.

his mother lost control of her life, in her mind, when his father began cheating, i have a feeling he probably gambled, she took her anger out on the boys. that's why hotch tells the unsub it's only natural to grow up in an abusive home and become a killer, but some people grow up to catch them.

now, we also know he was a nerd growing up, and i feel that was his way of having control, and also when his obsessive tendencies began. when you don't have control about what your mother is going to do next, you isolate yourself in puzzles, charades and collections. your mind focuses on something else rather than the yelling of your parents. that's what he did.

he gets rebellious, obviously, as he grew up, he gets mad at his father for being a cheater, for spending their money where he shouldn't, and mad at his mother because she didn't care of him like a mother should, so he acts out and gets sent to boarding school. that's where he cleans up his act.

i believe he was the type to have a few good friends in school, the type who would sometimes get in trouble but not so much because their good grades made up for it. he wasn't shy but he was quiet, he wasn't bad at sports but he wasn't the best, he read a lot, mostly books that weren't being discussed in class and most definitely always the philosophy kid, not the numbers kid.

yes i think a lot about this man don't judge me i love him and he makes me go absolutely insane. that's why i created this event thing after all.

[rodethecyclone]

At long last, Conrad gets a bio!

Conrad is the co-host for the morning announcements at Saint Cassian’s (alongside @kingcho’s Enid Crossings) and the semi-host of a low-budget community radio station. His voice is literally inescapable, hence being designated the “loudest boy in town.” Despite his stereotypical “bully jock from an 80s teen movie” look and weird local celebrity status, Conrad is never mean on purpose, but he’s not exactly attuned to the feelings of others, and frequently runs his mouth and says the worst possible thing for a given situation. His concept is loosely inspired by a niche genre of campy 1950s and 60s novelty songs about lovable teens dying in horrendous car crashes. Practically joined at the hip with @kingcho’s finest loser, Enid Crossings. Bonus info: he has four brain cells on the best of days, seems to drive that terribly on purpose, he’s a massive ham, his sense of self crumbles without an “audience,” he has canonically violated the Geneva convention, and word around the school says that he and Enid are more than just friends.

(Psst! For more info, check out his Karnak-style intro spiel with stage directions below the cut. If you still need more, follow his tag here on my blog, or ask me directly if you want!)

“Conrad Curtis. Born August 5th. Leo…evidently. Favorite ride: the plate-breaking game.

Born into a long-running small-town-celebrity tradition, Conrad inherited a ‘poster boy’ spot on Uranium’s very own community radio station, 104.5. With a pair of enthusiastically supportive parents, a spot on what could charitably be called the Saint Cassian’s baseball team, and excessive peer adulation, Conrad has never known anything short of praise and smooth sailing…with the sole exception of the day he learned that he had only been raised Catholic so that he could eventually become ex-Catholic, as all his forefathers had been.”

[A random cardboard cutout of the Pope appears from behind part of a broken carnival game. CONRAD throws a fastball at it, knocking it down.]

“In perhaps his first introduction to a regular human with a regular life, he befriended Enid Crossings during their tenure in a school production of Bye Bye Birdie. Enid ran tech backstage. Conrad played…”

[CONRAD performs an abhorrent, Elvis-esque hip swivel.]

“…himself. Despite the fact that Enid had caused his father’s infertility due to grievous testicular trauma during Field Day games only a few years prior— don’t act that part out, please— the two quickly became inseparable, operating as the school’s morning announcers.

Hotshot. Golden boy. Voice of the North. Uranium’s radiant son.

Conrad Curtis. The loudest boy in town.”

[lesbehonestsstuff]

Catholic guilt - part 2

Casey Novak has always been the good catholic girl. Always perfect, always trying to meet high expectations. But she doesn't understand why she feels no interested in the boys who flirted with her, why her eyes instead linger on other girls.

Word count: 2304

Chapter 2/?

After that day in the library, meeting up after school became a routine for Casey and Alex. At first, it was just about the books—an excuse to study together, share notes, or bounce ideas off one another. But soon, it became less about academics and more about being with each other. They were both brilliant and didn’t really need to exhaust themselves to get good grades, but the company of each other, the connection that began forming between them, was enough to make those hours feel necessary.

Casey found herself drawn to Alex in ways she hadn’t expected. On the surface, Alex seemed like she had everything together; she was confident, poised, always in control. Yet, the more time they spent together, the more Casey began to notice the cracks beneath the surface. There was a loneliness to Alex, a quiet hurt that she tried to hide behind smirks and witty comebacks. And though Alex never spoke about it, Casey could see it. She wanted to ask, but didn’t know how.

There were moments when they would sit in silence, each pretending to focus on their books while stealing glances at the other. Casey’s heart would race whenever Alex leaned in to explain something, her hand brushing Casey’s in a way that felt almost intentional. The slight touch was electric, sending a shiver up Casey’s spine, and she would instinctively pull her hand back, unsure if Alex noticed or even meant it the way Casey was starting to hope. It was confusing, this rush of emotions that left her feeling off balance, guilty. Casey didn’t know what to do with the way Alex was beginning to affect her. She wanted to ignore it, to pretend it was nothing, but the more time they spent together, the harder it became.

One day, while they sat in their usual spot in the library, the conversation shifted in a way that felt more personal than usual. Alex was scribbling notes in her perfect handwriting when Casey suddenly found herself speaking, the words slipping out, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Did you really live in New York before coming here?”

Alex looked up, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips at Casey’s curiosity. “Yeah, I did. My parents still live there... sort of. When they aren’t traveling, or pretending they care enough to spend time here.”

There was a slight edge to Alex’s voice, like she didn’t care whether they were around or not, but Casey could hear the trace of sadness, maybe even resentment. She felt a pang of sympathy.

“I’m sorry about that,” Casey murmured, her eyes searching Alex’s face, trying to gauge how much the words hurt her.

Alex shrugged, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “It’s fine, honestly. It’s probably better that they’re not here.” Her gaze shifted away, focusing on her book though she wasn’t reading it. “What about your family?”

Casey hesitated, a knot forming in her stomach. Talking about her family wasn’t easy. “Oh, they’re... alright, I guess. My dad’s in the Air Force, so he’s not home much. And my mom—well, she’s my mom.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, at her statement. “That’s... vague.”

Casey let out a half-hearted laugh, trying to downplay the discomfort she felt. “She’s just really strict. Catholic, you know? Wants us to be the perfect family.”

There was a long pause. Alex’s expression softened, her eyes understanding. “Military dad, Catholic mom. That’s a lot of expectations.”

“Yeah,” Casey muttered, feeling the weight of those expectations more heavily now than ever.

They went silent again, the tension between them growing just a bit heavier. Casey wanted to ask Alex more about her family, find out why her parents never seemed to be around, why there was always that sad, distant look in her eyes when she mentioned them, why she had ended up in their town, but she didn’t know how.

Instead, it was Alex who broke the tension. “Can I walk you home?” She asked, closing her book and glancing at the clock.

Casey blinked, surprised by the offer. “Yeah, sure. But isn’t your house the other way?”

Alex shrugged, her lips curving into a faint smile. “It is, but it’s not like I have anyone waiting for me at home.”

There was that same casual dismissal in her voice, but Casey didn’t miss the loneliness hidden beneath it. It made her heart ache, and before she could stop herself, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Alex glanced at her, her smile turning into something more playful. “You apologize a lot, you know that?”

Casey ducked her head, heat rising to her cheeks. “Catholic guilt, remember?”

“Mmm.” Alex’s voice was light, teasing. “Well, you’re too cute to be apologizing that much.”

The comment sent a wave of heat crashing through Casey’s body, her face burning with a blush she couldn’t control. She turned away packing her own books and praying that the blush would go away, but her heart was pounding in her chest. Did Alex know what she was doing to her? Did she mean it the way it sounded?

She pushed the questions aside and they walked in silence for a while after that leaving the library and school behind. Casey was desperate to ask more questions, to break through whatever walls Alex had built around herself, but she kept quiet. She liked being around Alex, she wanted to figure her out. And that scared her.

As they approached Casey’s house, Alex glanced at her with a curious expression. “What do you want to do when you get out of here?”

Casey blinked, caught a bit off guard by the question. She hadn’t really thought about it, not in any real way, at least. “I don’t really know,” she admitted, her voice small. “My mom wants me to stay home, find a boy to settle down with.”

“And what do you want?” Alex asked, her gaze steady, almost challenging wanting to break through the plans Casey’s mom had made for her until she found the truth.

Casey hesitated, the answer catching in her throat. “I’d really like to get away from here. I want to be a lawyer.”

Alex’s eyes brightened with surprise, a wide smile tugging at her lips. “A lawyer, huh?”

Casey flushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “Why? Is that funny?”

“No, not at all,” Alex said, shaking her head. “It’s just… I want to study law too.”

Casey stared at her, surprised. “Really? Where do you want to go?”

Alex smirked. “Am I too predictable if I say Harvard?”

Casey laughed, the tension between them easing for a moment. “Maybe a little. I’d love to go there too, but I don’t think I’d be able to.”

“Why not?” Alex asked. “You’re smart, and I know you’re involved in a lot of extracurriculars. You could definitely get a scholarship.”

The comment caught her a bit off guard and Casey blinked, startled by how much Alex seemed to know about her. “How do you know that?”

“I know a lot of things, Casey,” Alex replied with a teasing smirk.

Before Casey could respond, they reached her house. She stopped at the gate, feeling an odd reluctance to say goodbye. Alex paused too, her eyes lingering on Casey’s face, like she didn’t want to leave either. Both of them unaware of the eyes looking at them through the window.

“See you tomorrow?” Alex asked, her voice soft.

“Yeah,” Casey nodded. “We can keep studying.”

“Sure,” Alex smiled, her eyes warm. “Bye, Casey.”

“Bye,” Casey echoed, her heart fluttering as she watched Alex walk away.

Casey barely had time to compose herself before stepping through the front door. As soon as she crossed the threshold, the familiar weight of her home’s oppressive atmosphere settled over her. Her body felt stiff, her muscles tensing automatically, as if bracing for an impact she knew was coming.

“Cassandra,” her mother’s sharp voice rang out from the kitchen, the sound slicing through the quiet like a blade.

Casey winced at the use of her full name, her stomach tightening. She dropped her bag by the door, her fingers feeling oddly numb as they let the strap slip from her hand. Slowly, she made her way down the hall, her steps heavy as though each one brought her closer to something inevitable. “Yes, Mom?” she replied, her voice already resigned.

Her mother stood by the counter, wiping her hands on a towel, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto Casey with that familiar judgmental gaze. “Who was that girl I saw you with outside?” she asked, her tone cold and clipped.

A jolt of panic shot through Casey’s chest, her heartbeat quickening. She had hoped to avoid this conversation entirely. “Just a girl from school,” she answered quickly, trying to keep her voice calm, though she could feel her pulse pounding in her throat. Her palms felt damp, and she clasped them together, forcing herself to stay composed.

Her mother’s gaze remained unrelenting, her lips pressing into a thin line. “What’s her name?”

Casey hesitated, the air around her suddenly feeling thick and suffocating. She could sense the tension building, the trap closing in. “Alex,” she mumbled, the name slipping from her mouth like it was a secret she wasn’t meant to reveal.

Her mother’s face twisted in disgust, the reaction immediate. “That Cabot girl,” she spat, her voice dripping with disgust. Casey’s heart sank, her mother had heard the rumors that were certainly circling around town. “I don’t want to see you around her again.”

“Mom—” Casey tried, her voice weak, barely audible, but the rising dread in her chest made it hard to push the words out.

“I mean it,” her mother cut her off, her tone low and dangerous. “That girl is full of sin. She’s not good for you.”

A knot formed in Casey’s stomach, her hands shaking slightly as she clenched them into fists at her sides. “She’s not—” she began to protest, her voice catching in her throat, but her mother’s eyes darkened, cutting her off with a look that was all too familiar.

“Don’t talk back to me,” her mother hissed, her words sharp. “I better not see you around her again, or I’ll tell your father, and we’ll see how he feels about it.”

The mention of her father made Casey’s stomach twist with frustration. How could he have any opinion when he was never around? Before she could stop herself, the words slipped out. “Like he’s ever here to care,” she muttered under her breath.

The slap came faster than she could react, the sharp sting of her mother’s hand connecting with her cheek. The sound echoed through the kitchen, loud and cruel. Casey gasped, her head jerking to the side, her skin burning where her mother’s palm had struck. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. Her heart pounded in her ears, the shock of the hit leaving her frozen in place.

“You better watch your mouth, child,” her mother spat, her voice low and venomous. “Your father may not be here, but I won’t let you disrespect him. Now go upstairs and wash up. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Casey stood there for a moment, her cheek throbbing, her whole body trembling from the force of the slap and the effort of holding back her emotions. She bit her lip, hard, tasting blood as she forced herself to keep quiet. Her throat felt tight, the words of defiance she wanted to scream lodged painfully there, but she knew better than to speak them. “Sorry,” she whispered instead, her voice barely a breath.

Her mother turned away, dismissing her without another glance, and Casey took the opportunity to flee. She hurried up the stairs, her body moving on autopilot, her chest tight with the effort of holding everything in. As soon as she reached her room, she shut the door behind her and collapsed onto the floor, the tension in her body finally breaking free.

She pressed a hand to her stinging cheek, her fingers shaky against her hot skin. Her heart was still racing, her breathing shallow and uneven as she let the tears spill over. Everything felt wrong, her mother’s words, the slap, the fear, and the confusing feelings for Alex that only seemed to grow stronger with every passing day.

The guilt churned in her stomach, twisting and knotting in a way that made her feel nauseous. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind, repeating over and over: "That girl is full of sin."

But Casey didn’t want to believe that. She couldn’t. Being with Alex didn’t feel wrong. The way Alex smiled at her, the way her eyes softened when they talked, the way her hand brushed against Casey’s, it felt... good. And wasn’t it supposed to feel wrong if it was a sin? Shouldn't her body rebel against it instead of yearning for more?

Her pulse quickened again, heat flooding her face as she remembered Alex’s playful comment from earlier. “You’re too cute to apologize that much.”

Casey pressed her hands against her cheeks, trying to stop the rush of warmth that came with the memory, but her heart kept pounding, racing with thoughts she didn’t understand. Was it wrong to feel this way? Her mother, the church, everything she’d been taught, it all said it was. And yet, when she was with Alex, none of that mattered. It was like the world fell away, and all that was left was the two of them, in that quiet space where nothing felt wrong.

Now in her room sitting on the floor knees drawn to her chest all she could think was how could something that she was taught was wrong make her feel so right?