#cant join a convent

[allourbrokendreams]

the high harper

[2btheanswertothequestion]

Eddie's porn stash is a pretty conventional one. An 'if you've seen one stash you've seen them all' type. It basically only consists of skin mags, some of them kinky but most of them vanilla. Normal stuff.

The oddest thing in it is a two-year-old calendar. You know those sexy firefighter calendars? Usually a charity thing? A hit with the housewife crowd? Yeah. Except this calendar decided to branch out and include a bunch of sexy men from a bunch of sexy professions.

So, in this thing, joining the sexy firefighter is a sexy doctor, a sexy construction worker, a sexy police officer (whose month Eddie tore out and burned because fuck cops but don't ever fuck cops), a sexy librarian, and so on. They're all really good-looking, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic.

It's weird. Paramedics aren't normally part of the traditionally sexy professions. It's messy and sometimes tragic, but lacks the high-paying glamour that doctors and nurses enjoy. Eddie's had his fair share of fantasies, and none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

The guy in the calendar simply is that hot.

There's not even anything risqué about his picture. None of the pictures go beyond "this dude is chiseled and shirtless", because veering even slightly past the softest softcore territory would scare off the little housewives or something.

(Eddie is actually pretty fucking sure it'd increase the sales, but hey, what does he know.)

The point is, there's nothing that obscene about the pic. Just a guy kneeling in the back of an ambulance, first aid equipment scattered between his powerful thighs, shirt open to reveal his sculpted torso…

Dark hair spanning across his pecs, over his abs, vanishing down his tight tight tight pants. Hips canting upward, bringing attention to the size of his bulge beneath the zipper. Broad shoulders, ripped arms and large hands, veins protruding across the back. A pretty yet masculine face, with a strong jaw and a straight nose, full lips, a smattering of moles going down his biteable neck. Voluminous, golden brown hair swooped away from his twinkling eyes.

He's got this look in them, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in the calendar.

The one month everyone will go crazy for.

Eddie has become intimately familiar with that look. No joke, in two years it's made him crack his marbles more than anyone else has done in his quarter-century lifetime. When all else fails, November-paramedic has his back. It's basically his longest relationship to date, which sounds a lot sadder out loud (and it sounded fucking sad inside his head, too).

You might wonder why any of that is relevant now, as he sits on the curb outside of The Behemoth with blood trickling from his temple, his band giving their statements to one cop while another hauls away the snarling douchebag that clipped him. How does it play a part in this god-awful night out, you ask?

Well.

"Sir?"

Eddie startles, too caught up in the thudding inside his head, made worse by the buzzing crowd, to notice the man approaching him. He looks up, his gaze gliding past uniformed legs, muscular forearms, a curved neck and honeyed eyes appraising Eddie, and oh.

Oh God.

Eddie's breath sticks in his chest and his tongue becomes a cognate to sandpaper, because it's the paramedic.

It's the paramedic. From the calendar.

He's hallucinating. He has to be. He collapsed on the sidewalk, and now he's having one last weird sex dream before his brain finishes seeping out and he fucking dies.

November-paramedic crouches in front of him. Eddie continues to gape like he's getting ready to catch the peanuts no one is tossing at him.

"My name is Steve. I'm with the ambulance," November-paramedic says. "What's your name?"

Eddie makes a noise incomprehensible to most Earth cultures before his brain registers the meaning of the question and stutters out the answer.

"I- Uh- E-Eddie. It's, it's Eddie."

November-paramedic – Steve – smiles kindly. Heat prickles across Eddie's cheeks and neck. It's not the same as the cocky, sexy smile he's got in the calendar, but still. He's smiling. At Eddie!

"Hi, Eddie." He nods toward Eddie's temple. "That's an impressive cut you got there. May I take a look at it?"

"Yeah? Yeah. Um, g-go ahead."

As Steve sets down his bag and rummages through it, Eddie scours his face to confirm that it really is the guy from the calendar. To his chagrin, it is. There's no mistaking it. Those eyes, like liquid gold. That jawline, a weapon in its own right. Those moles, applied so skillfully it must've been by an artist's hand. That hair, coming straight out of a commercial for luxury shampoo. It's lying flatter than in the calendar, either lacking product or having sweated it out, but it's still glorious.

Steve, having finished washing his hands, tugs on a pair of disposable gloves. The plastic snaps against his wrist, sending a shiver through Eddie. It centers between his legs. Shit, if he pops a boner now…

"I'm going to ask you some questions, okay?" Steve says while pressing a square piece of gauze against the cut. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Eh, Thursday?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"The Behemoth."

Steve nods and, with a lopsided smile, asks, "And are you a patron or did you and your head injury just wander onto the scene?"

Eddie laughs. Loud, merry, and verging on too long. It wasn't even that funny. Steve seems pleased his joke was a success, though. Unless his smile is the uncomfortable kind that one wears when faced with the unhinged. Eddie isn't sure how much blood he's lost.

"No, I, like, my band…" he says, stammering like talking isn't what he does best. Jesus Christ, it's just a hot guy! Eddie has made a fool of himself in front of those plenty of times – no need to get flustered about it. He clears his throat. "We had a gig and, after, at the bar, some guys got into a fight. Got ugly, so we tried to leave, but… alas!" He makes a dramatic sweep of his arm, nearly clocking Steve. Steve expertly ducks away without lessening the pressure on the wound. Eddie soldiers on, not daring to pause lest he lose his steam. Hopefully his burning face is enough of an apology. "Fucker wasn't even aiming for me. He missed his intended target and struck me instead."

"Right. Did you lose consciousness after he hit you?"

"Nope."

"Good. Did you drink tonight?"

"Half a beer, at most."

"Do-"

"Eddie!"

Gareth's nasally voice cuts off Steve's question. The next second, he's materialized beside them with a slightly alarmed expression. "Dude, are you…!"

He trails off, eyes growing into dinner plates. There isn't that much blood, is there?

Steve looks Gareth up and down, a crease between his brows. "Is this your friend?"

"My drummer. Gareth."

Eddie half-expects Steve to demand Gareth leaves so he can do his job in peace, but nope. That kind, calm smile is back. He even gives him one of those little upward-nods 'cool guys' like to do.

"What's up, Gareth? I'm Steve; I'm with the ambulance. Just making sure Eddie won't keel over later tonight."

"Uh huh…" Gareth kneels opposite Steve. He's smiling too, but his is shit eating. Eddie frowns in confusion, because what does Gareth have to be happy about? He was freaking out right after Eddie got hit, but now he's staring at Steve like-

Oh.

He's staring at Steve.

No. Noooooooooo! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh why, why has he kept his porn stash in a drawer without a lock all these years?! He can't recollect the reason Gareth opened that particular drawer on that particular day – all Eddie remembers is how Gareth, Jeff, and Marv snickered when he explained the inclusion of the calendar.

That was it, though. They moved on. Sure, there has been the occasional roasting after the fact, but it's not like he hasn't also mocked them for their weird shit. But that's not the point. The point is that Gareth is staring at Steve like he recognizes him.

Gareth's attention flicks toward Eddie. Eddie shakes his head as subtly yet pleadingly as he can. Gareth's grin gobbles down another turd. Eddie makes a valiant effort to explode Gareth's eyeballs with his mind.

"Say…" Gareth turns to Steve. "Have we met?"

"I don't think so. Eddie, do you have a headache?"

"Yeah, man," Eddie says, voice trembling. "Hurts like hell."

"I could've sworn I've seen your face before," Gareth says. "Like, I'm 100% sure."

"Are you dizzy or nauseous?" Steve asks, ignoring Gareth.

"Um, a little dizzy but no nausea?"

"Hmm, okay. Blurred vision or uneven numbness?"

"No."

Steve nods, glancing at his watch. Then, to Eddie’s dismay, he looks at Gareth. "I've never been to this bar before."

"Nono, not here. Somewhere else…"

Steve's lips purse and his brows knit into the most adorable thinking-face Eddie has ever seen. His heart skips a beat, then skips two more as Steve's free hand gently cups Eddie's cheek. The skin catches fire where Steve's gloved fingertips touch it.

"Let me have a look at your pupils…" Steve says, guiding Eddie's face and, holy shit, leaning in close for a better look.

Eddie gulps, half his blood rushing up and the other half down; he squeezes his legs together to prevent the little guy from saying 'hello' to everyone present. His eyes rove over Steve's face. His lips are chapped and the skin on his nose is dry. The nose itself is somewhat crooked. Did he get into a fight between the calendar photoshoot and now, or did they make the nose straighter for the photo? Why would anyone think it necessary to edit a face like this one? Even with its imperfections mere inches away, it's still the handsomest Eddie has seen.

Steve hums. It's a perfectly preserved vinyl. It's a metal festival. It's Eddie's new favorite song.

"Same size but pretty dilated… Keep your eyes open, please." He shines a tiny flashlight into Eddie's eyes before nodding, satisfied. "All right, looks good."

He leans back out of Eddie's space, returning Eddie's ability to breathe, and removes the gauze. His smile tells Eddie that the bleeding has stopped. As great as it is that he won't hemorrhage to death, it also means their encounter is approaching its end.

"You might've seen me at the university campus?" Steve says, fiddling with some plasters; it takes Eddie's horny brain five full seconds to deduce he's talking to Gareth again.

"No-" Gareth freezes, mouth hanging open. His smugness has evaporated. "Actually, I might have? You're a student?"

Steve chuckles as he patches the last of Eddie's cut. "No, but my friends are. None of them own a car, so I end up driving them everywhere. Right, Eddie, I think you're good to recover at home. Unless you feel like you should head to the hospital?"

Great question! Does he? On the one hand: riding in the ambulance with Steve, ensuring a few additional minutes of his lustrous eyes and smooth voice.

On the other hand: hospital bills.

"… no."

"Okay. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I live alone."

"Then maybe Gareth could hang around for the next 48 hours?"

"Sure can," Gareth says without hesitating. Eddie's heart swells with affection for him, despite his (failed! Hah!) plot to mortify Eddie to death.

Steve is already packing his medical bag.

"I want you to rest and avoid stressful situations," he tells Eddie. "No alcohol, no recreational drugs, no driving, and no working until you feel completely recovered. You may take tylenol, but not aspirin or ibuprofen. And if your symptoms worsen or you develop new ones – seek medical attention. Got it?"

The last part is sterner, reminding Eddie of every male authority figure he's strived to disobey during his teenage years. He has no such desire this time.

"Got it."

Steve raises his eyebrows as if to say 'have you really?', and Eddie has to wonder if it's he who seems contrariant and/or stupid enough to ignore the medic or if this is something Steve does with every patient. If it's the former, he mustn't seem that contrariant, because Steve's features soften into trust. He stands, brushing dust off his knees.

"Great. You boys take care now. Have a nice night."

"Yeah, you too, man," Eddie calls after him weakly as he retreats to the blinking ambulance. "Thanks…"

He keeps his gaze on the broad expanse of Steve's back, soaking in the rippling of his muscles as he walks and, oh would you look at that, his ass is as nice as the rest of him. Eddie's been wondering for two years now…

"Dude!"

Eddie jerks toward Gareth. Did he say that out loud? Did he drool? Is his boner showing? But no, Gareth isn't disgusted or disturbed – he's excited.

Shit.

He'll never hear the end of this.

"Don't!" he hisses.

Gareth just laughs, eyes twinkling.

"That was-"

"Don't!"

"I can't believe it!"

"Gareth-"

"You are so red right now!"

"For Jesus fucking Christ's fucking sake-"

------------------------------

Dedicated to @rougenancy for always listening to and encouraging my various thoughts, opinions, and ideas (they are constant).

Part 2

AO3

[phantasma-mirror]

GIRL HELP I GOT CURSED WITH VISIONS

drunk and high sure is a dangerous combo. girl help I wanna be held and coddled so bad I could cry

[oliviawebsite]

the usa rly wants to kill disabled people, as an entity. the state and the corporations join hands to grind them into a fine paste that can be repurposed to manufacture "green" car parts. propaganda ensures your neighbor sees you as a malingering pre-ghost, a misspent vessel of flesh-- underproductive and therefore useless. it sneaks into every corner of life. its in our infrastructure, our policies, the way most people live their day to day lives. your tax dollars fund genocides on several fronts and the building of world-rending weapons that could wipe out all multicellular life on earth and monstrous mechanical beasts spitting poison into water supply networks. but god forbid a piecemeal portion of it goes towards barely providing a disabled person with enough money to live each month. sorry that like 0.03% of your tax payments go to keeping people who cant work conventional jobs trapped below the poverty line i guess. fuck you. i will not be killed.

[kvothbloodless]

A incredibly weird problem I see in a good portion of fantasy stories these days is something Ive been calling "Inferna delenda est", and which my less pretentious friends (all of them) call "the hell problem". Its sort of something that, because its a genre convention, is almost always ignored, but once you see it, it cant be unseen.

I admittedly only started seeing this after reading UNSONG, which is literally About this problem. But now that its been pointed out, I cant unsee it elsewhere, and any media which runs into it but doesnt address it becomes almost entirely ruined for me.

The issue of Inferna delenda est is present in any setting which 1. Has real, proven afterlifes where most people literally go when they die and 2. Has one of those afterlifes be at all comparable to Hell, i.e. any place where a significant number of sapient creatures are tortured for all eternity.

If those two criteria are met, almost any plot becomes pointless and trivial. What does it matter that a hero saves a city from destruction when beneath their feet millions of people are burning, and many of those saved will join them? Who cares whether the ruler of a country is corrupt or not? The evil that would be stopped by replacing them with even a perfectly competent and benevolent ruler is staggeringly inconsequential compared to that of an eternity of torment.

Like, im not being vague or making an analogy here. Im just saying that its incredibly difficult to care about a plot to stop a war or kill an evil wizard when the story offhandedly mentions the fact that millions of people are 100% being tortured for eternity in a real place and no one is doing anything about it.

And even further, it makes it Really hard to view the heroes as...actual heroes. The degree of callousness required to keep the existance of hell in the background (from an in-universe perspective) is just ridiculous. Like, if youve got your high fantasy hero saving an entire continent from an evil demigod or whatever, the fact that theyre Not constantly thinking about hell is just... if you have that kinda power, and you literally know for a fact that Hell is a place, then you should be fucked up about it!

Like I can understand that growing up in that setting youd be resigned to it, not much a random soldier or whatever can do about it. But once they become super powerful? And they never even Mention Hell? That much callousness automatically moves you down a few notches from hero.

Obviously in a lot of settings hell just sorta Exists, and soul sorting is vague, but even then like. Break into Hell! Rescue people or at least relieve their pain! Its just so insane that the worst thing literally imaginable as a physical place (maximum pain that lasts literally forever with no hope of relief) is a staple of lots of fantasy settings and so many authors just do not in any way address that.

And like I said, its not that theyre writing Poorly because of this. Its a genre staple, and if you dont give it too much thought it doesnt seem to be an issue, especially given [gestures vaguely in the direction of christianity and its popularization of the concept of hell]. But god now that its been pointed out it drives me Nuts.

Anyways idk where i was going with this. Read unsong, i guess?

[rudystopit]

ii. Cut It Off│M.O'Hara

↳Pinterest

Summary: After a quiet morning prayer, you bond with Sister Lyla and her friends before helping Father O'Hara with his project. Confessions and unsettling dreams stir guilt and tension, culminating in a tense encounter with Father O'Hara that hints at deeper secrets. Navigating the abbey’s strict rules, you confront your own emotions and the shadows lurking within the community.

Pairing: Priest!Vampire!Miguel O'Hara/Nun!reader

Warnings: man gets mad he cant fuck? he watches you bathe? again there's no down right smut but there will be so please MDNI!!

a/n: quick little background on this. I started writing this when the second movie came out and ive been pushing off so fully if i post it i can get the story i want out and not be constantly thinking about it.

word count: 5,208

masterlist

{cross posted on AO3}

𝔐𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔴 5:30 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱-𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔪𝔟𝔩𝔢, 𝔠𝔲𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔬𝔣𝔣 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔴 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔶. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔢 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔤𝔬 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩.

After you finished eating you returned the bowl to the kitchen and headed to the convent's chapel for morning prayers. You found a spot close to the back and waited for the other sisters to arrive from breakfast. You kept your head low knowing that none of them would talk to you. You sat waiting for Abbess Drew to go up to the front.

"Church mouse," a sister whispered over her shoulder. "Hey, you," a hand flicked your knee. You looked up to see three sisters looking at you.

"Yes?" You asked.

"I overheard you working with Father O'Hara on the exhibit," she stated.

"Yes. I am," you looked at the others around her.

"Well, I'm Sister Lyla  and this is Sister Margo and Sister Peni." She points at the others. "We've been here for about three years so if you need any help we're here," She smiles.

"I've been here for five years," you said, slowly. Her face drops and becomes pale.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you just joined. And people call you church mouse, I thought it was because you've always been a part of the church and just now decided to take your vows,"

"Ok," you said slowly once again, trying to figure out what she was saying. She stared at you waiting for you to tell her off for being disrespectful or something along that line. The two of you just stared at each other waiting for the other to talk, but luckily, you were saved by Abbess Drew standing at the front.

"Good morning, sisters," her voice boomed out.

"Good morning" a monotonous tone rang out. 

One of the older fathers comes and puts his hand on her back to usher to her seat. He walks to the smaller of the podiums and begins reciting the passages for today's morning sermon. You started to become more dazed the longer the father talked. A hand flicked your knee again. You looked over at her. Your eyes pleaded for her to stop. 

"What is the project?" she whispered. You wave your hand to tell her to stop. "I worked with a father once. mostly just errands and small tasks. But you get to be a part of the project. That's really cool. congrats." she smiled at you. 

"Thanks," You whispered back. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Abbess Drew glare at the two of you. You slide down into your seat hoping she wouldn't come to tell you off. You listened to the father drone on and on. You wished they would pick one of the younger fathers to do the morning sermon. Give them more training, you thought. It would also help with keeping the sister's attention. Give them someone that wouldn't put them to sleep. You were staring blankly at the pew in front of you when Abbess Drew thanked the Priest and walked up to the front. 

She lifts her hands and all of the sisters' heads bow. "O God, come to my assistance," Abbess Drew sang out.

"O God, make haste to help me," you answer back. A sea of the other sisters' voices drowns yours out.

"Glory be to the Creator, to the Redeemer and the Holy Spirit," Abbess Drew raised her arms above her head.

"As it was in the beginning, it is now and will be forever," the sisters answered.

"Amen," and with that morning prayers were over. And you were excused to do your silent prayers and other rituals.

"Hey, I'm really sorry," Sister Lyla  finds you. "I've never seen you around the abbey," she follows right behind you. You make your way up to Abbess Drew, trying to ignore her. You wished she had left you alone instead of following you to apologize.

"I'm normally assigned to the library," you told her in hushed tones, trying to end the conversation. "Good morning, Abbess Drew," you bow.

"Good morning Sister. I hear Father O'Hara is looking for an assistant for his project," she stretches out her arm to invite you to follow her to her office. You follow behind her.

"Yes, Sister. He told me yesterday after he asked me to help him select books for said project," You said, trying to not let your excitement escape.

"Yes, He has come to me and asked for you specifically," she opens her door to her office. You follow her in. You watched her sit in her seat and waited for her to permit you to sit. She waves her hands and you sit in a big plush chair. "I will allow it. He doesn't know how long the project will take but he also suggested you be his assistant permanently. I told him that would be up to you once the project is over," she said. You thanked her and waited for her to dismiss you. "Oh and sister, he asked for you in the afternoon so after lunch report to his office. In the meantime do the duties you would normally do in the even now. That's all, you're dismissed."

With that, you left. You thought about what you would normally do in the afternoon. Prayer and shower were the biggest ones that came to mind. You walked around the abbey's hallways. You see a bulletin board with the abbey's events. A bake sale next week and a fair in the middle of spring. You saw some other meetings that are being held in the abbey's extra rooms. You scanned to find if Father O'Hara was in charge of any of them. It looks like it's all the younger priests that are handling them.

You knew he was older but not like the cardinal level of old. He could probably become a bishop in the next year if he wanted to. You started at the flyers and the memory of the dream from last night reappeared in your mind. A chill spreads through your body. You stared at his name. Confession. You need to confess. You know thinking about sinning really isn't a sin but you reasoned that because you are a member of the abbey, your thoughts should be clean and pure. You turned and walked towards the chapel, hoping the other sisters had left and the Father in charge of confession this morning would be in the booth.

While you walk to the main chapel, some of the sisters give you weird looks. You pushed open one of the newer doors to go outside. You walked along the stone path to the community's chapel. You liked the community's chapel. It was much larger and grander than the convent chapel. The beautiful stained glass filters the light in bright colors and makes the inside feel painted in a way. You pushed open the large doors. You looked around at all the windows. The beautiful colors filled the room with such brilliance. You release the breath you were holding. You walked up to the confessional booth. The old door creaks, alerting the father to someone coming in.

You sit on the hard, wooden bench. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You lift your hand to your forehead. A light tap then to your chest. You opened your eyes and tapped your left shoulder. You finish on your right and place your hands in your lap. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession," you said. You thought about the last time you confessed. You felt so guilty that you took extra food one day. You were plagued with thoughts of God condemning you for greed because of it. You practically cried to the priest about it.

"I think I've committed the sin of lust by accident," you say to the wall in front of you. the father hums and you continue, "I had a dream where a man touched me." You hesitated on the last words. You thought about the dream. He didn't necessarily touch you inappropriately. But the way it made you feel... you couldn't get over that feeling. "This is all I can remember. I am sorry for these and all my sins." You feel the ghost of his hands running up your leg. You move to push your thighs together. Tears threatened your eyes.

"As penance, review the readings in Ephesians 4. Focus on verses 17 through 24." He says.

"Thank you," you pause. You bring your hands to your chest. You bow your head as your eyes flutter shut. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. our savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us." You bring your hand up to sign the cross, "In his name, my God, have mercy."

You pause. "Amen," you and the priest say in unison.

"You are doing well, my child. By coming to god before you act upon these urges, you will overcome these sins before they damage your soul," the priest says. "Bless this child, may she not be consumed by the sinful way of the world and be reunited with your light once more. Amen," he prays.

You stand up quietly. You shut the door behind you and walk over to the candles. An elderly woman is lighting hers. You walk up next to her. She offers you her still-lit match. You bowed in thanks and lit your own candle. You bow and give a prayer of thanks to god. Once finished you place your hand on the elderly woman's shoulder. She smiles and bows.

You try to make sure your steps aren't too loud for the visitors and make your way to the doors. You open them enough for you to sneak out. You sighed and made your way back to your room. Your footsteps are faster than normal. You felt tears prick in your eyes. Once the tear fell, you started to run.

You ran back to your room. Ignoring the concern of the people around you. You slammed your door and fell. You brought your legs to your chest. You weep and pray to god to end whatever you're feeling. To stop whatever is in your mind. You want it to all go away. You hugged your legs tighter to your body and let the tears fall. Your throat hurts as you hold back sobs. You knew you were crying because God had finally shown you the feelings you were feeling were sinful. Your crying was to show him you are willing to change.

You sat for many minutes. You let the feelings come flowing and you didn't see an end in sight. You figured you would end up asleep on the floor, missing your duties and meals. You decided that Abbess Drew would understand if you explained to her tomorrow. Your tears had slowed but your breathing still hiccupped. You let your eyes close as you let the peacefulness of the end of the cry fill you. This is when you feel as if God has forgiven you.

You hear a soft knock on the door. You quickly wipe your face and stand up to your feet. You brushed off your skirt and closed your eyes. You inhaled as much as you could and held it till you stopped feeling like crying. You exhaled and opened the door.

Abbess Drew stood in your doorway. "What's troubling you, dear?" she asked. Her hand gently landed on your upper back, trying to coax you out of your room. You sniffled and looked up.

"Confession stirred up some hidden feelings," you weakly smiled at her. "Sorry to have bothered you and the others."

"That's alright." she pulled you in for a hug. "Now, go on and do your penance," she said with a smile.

"Thank you, Abbess," you walked back to your room. You lean against the door while it closes. You closed your eyes and let all the feelings melt off of you before you moved to your table. You opened your bible and began to read the passage the priest gave you.

17 So I tell you this, and insist on it in the Lord, that you must no longer live as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their thinking. 18 They are darkened in their understanding and separated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them due to the hardening of their hearts. 19 Having lost all sensitivity, they have given themselves over to sensuality so as to indulge in every kind of impurity, and they are full of greed.

20 That, however, is not the way of life you learned 21 when you heard about Christ and were taught in him in accordance with the truth that is in Jesus. 22 You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; 23 to be made new in the attitude of your minds; 24 and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.

You finished reading and mulled over the meaning and how it pertains to your situation. A few tears had fallen as you read but you knew that was to be expected. You prayed and thanked God for forgiving you. You closed your bible. You looked out your window. It was so sunny out. The sky was a glorious blue and the birds were singing their praises.

"I need to wash all this off," you whispered to yourself. You stood and gathered your things for your shower. You walked to the bathhouse, trying to ignore the whispers from the sisters.

The bathhouse was too open for your liking but you lived with it. You set your towel and shoes by the wall. You removed your habit starting with your veil and cap. You undo your hair and run your fingers through it, massaging your scalp to release the tension in your head. You sighed and turned to sit. You lifted your skirt to pull your socks down, failing to notice the figure on the balcony of the bathhouse.

Father O'Hara watches as you drag the fabric down your legs. He hums at how your legs stretch. His gaze lingers at the end of your shirt, which is currently hanging at your hips. You fold your socks and put them in your shoes. He admires how gracefully you stand. His mouth waters as he watches your fingers undo the buttons of your habit. He grips the pillar he's standing next to, as you let the dress fall to the floor. He memorizes the muscles on your back as you stretch.

You fold the dress and remove your undergarments. It takes the will of God to keep him from running down there as you make your way into the bath. Father O'Hara watches how your muscles relax as soon as the warm water reaches your skin. Once you find your place to sit, he is practically leaning over the railing. He readjusts his pants as you lean back into the bath to soak your hair, and breasts on full display for the father. He groans at the sight.

He convinces himself to leave before he can't take it. He hurries to his office, quickly slamming the door and locking it. He sits in his chair uncomfortably. The strain on his pants is unbearable. He puts his arms on his desk and his head in his hands. He wants to scream. He wants to relieve himself. He wants to devour you. He looks up and the reason he can't be looking right at him. His God. Your God. The reason he can't have you.

He picks up his cup from his desk and hurls it across the room. It shatters against the painting, causing it to fall. He stares at the wall, not able to think. His nails dig at his desk. flashes of you in the bath run across his mind. Then the picture. Anger continues to build in his chest. His breathing is erratic. His heart is beating faster than ever before. He growls at the thoughts swirling in his mind.

A knock. A singular knock at the door. His heart sank to his feet. His breathing had stopped altogether. He released his grip on the desk. He looked around at the scene surrounding him. Another knock. He snapped at the door.

"Miguel?" a voice rang from the other side of the door. He ran up to the door and opened it enough to see who it was. Father Parker's worried look told him more than enough to know that everyone heard his outburst. "Are you alright?"

"Old nails. The painting fell and the glass shattered. sorry to startle you," his voice low. Father Parker knew something was wrong but knew prying wasn't going to help. He took that as truth and left.

Father O'Hara went back to his desk. He let his head fall to the surface. He stared out his window, beginning to think about all that just happened. He'll have to see you later. He'll have to be in this office with you. He closed his eyes and let the headache consume his mind.

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You walked down to the dining room for the sisters. Hearing the lively chatter from the hall. You stopped at the window and saw a group of fathers walking around outside. They looked to be in deep conversation. One amongst them was Father Parker. He looked scared or maybe worried, you really couldn't tell. You shoved your weight against the door of the dining room.

You walked over to the other sisters to see what was on the menu for lunch. It looked like chicken and some veggies. You smiled and headed to the line to get some food. Once your plate was made, you made your way to the table closest to the window.

Picking at the vegetable, you watched the birds fly around the courtyard. You watched how they looked as if they were playing tag. But as you watched more, when they dove at each other it was like a freefall but their trust in each other was more than just a silly little game. It was unconditional love. A love that they're willing to take life-threatening risks just to prove that they only want each other.

A plate smacked on the table across from you. "Did you hear?" Sister Lyla  said.

"Gossip is morally wrong," you said, looking back towards the window. The birds had left.

"Is it gossip when I overheard the Fathers talking?" she tried to reason with you. You looked at her, wondering where she was going with this. "I heard Father Parker say he was concerned for Father O'Hara. He said he heard a crash in his office and when he went to go check out if he was alright, Father O'Hara said his painting fell," she paused only to take a bit of her food. "Father Parker said he doesn't believe him. I heard the two of them were friends before they joined the church. So I would believe Father Parker if he said something wasn't right with Father O'Hara," she finished her rant and enjoyed her meal as if she hadn't said all of that in one breath.

"What do you think was the noise then?" you asked, discarding your food to the side.

"I don't know," she said, "he seems like the kind of guy to get mad easily. Maybe someone got under his skin," she looked down at your food. You pushed it to her, you didn't want it now. "You'll be there after lunch, right? Well, you should tell me, if a painting really did break. Ease the tension of everyone. That's if he didn't clean it up," she said.

"You're right," you pondered on her statements. If a painting really did fall then you'd know the rumor is true that it just happened to have fallen. But what if it wasn't the painting? You tried not to overthink all the possible reasons for a loud crashing sound coming from a Father's office.

"What are you thinking?" Sister Lyla  asked.

"What if it's not a painting?" you asked. "What if he tripped, or knocked something off his desk, or threw something or completely destroyed the room," your face began to contort into panic and confusion.

"Don't worry, I believe that it was just the painting that fell. I think Father Parker saw him in shock after the painting just spontaneously fell in his quiet office," her hand lands on yours. You looked up to see her bright smile.

"Thanks," you smiled back, "Well, I have to go explore his office now. Would you like to meet me for breakfast in the morning?" you asked, clearing the table.

"Yeah, I'll see you here in the morning," she followed you up to the door of the kitchen and you both disposed of your plates. She waved as she sat with Sister Margo. You smiled back at her.

You strolled through the hallway, gleaming. You were excited to have a friend. Five years and the only person you've had a real conversation with has been the Abbesses. You grinned while watching your feet. You had a lightness to your steps. You wanted to twirl around in the hallways of the abbey.

You made it to the door of the offices of the Fathers. You pushed it open lightly hoping to not make a sound. Though some of the Fathers are old, their hearing is still as good or maybe better than when they were younger. And they weren't afraid to complain that a sister was making too much noise in the offices while they tried to work.

You got to the old oak door with Father O'Hara's name scripted on it. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. You waited for the door to open. You swayed on your feet. You knocked again. You heard footsteps approach you. You turned to see Father Parker walking towards you.

"Oh, Hello, Sister," he smiled. He sees you standing in front of Father O'Hara's door. "Is he not answering?" He asked and you stepped aside to let him try. He knocked loudly and then yelled through the door. "Father O'Hara, A sister is here to see you." He looks back at you. "Are you the sister assigned to his project?"

"Yes, Father," you answered.

"Well, I'm sorry about this. He normally is very punctual," he twists the knob of the door. "Huh, it's locked. I don't think I saw him wandering around the abbey after I saw him this morning. Would you like me to escort you to Sister Drew?"

"Yes please," you follow behind him. You two walked in silence for the majority of the way. You felt quite awkward. You wanted to ask him questions to lighten the mood, but he looks so concerned and the only question you want to ask is if they had been friends since before they both joined the church. You stared at the floor, trying to minimize the silence.

"One of the Sisters was telling me about your opportunity to work with Aug– Father O'Hara," he finally says. "Do you like history?" He slows his pace to match with you.

"Yeah, I was going to study history in college. Plus, My duties are in the library. Convenient if you need a book right then, instead of having to wait till the library opens."

"Hadn't thought of it like that," he laughed, "smart man."

You smiled at his comment. You liked talking to the Fathers. They're always so polite and the younger ones are more carefree with what they say. It reminds you of your friends before you joined the convent. You looked up at the Father and smiled.

"Father O'Hara isn't much for history. He has always been good at science. In school, he had a knack for biology. It was weird seeing here one day. I swear I thought he would have become a scientist," he smiled and looked out the window as if looking at a fleeting memory.

"You knew each other before joining?"

"Yeah, we were friends," he laughs, "he used to be a lot scarier. True me, kid, you did not want to meet him back then," his hand lands on your shoulder. Your thoughts drifted to what he might have been like before joining the church. You smiled at the thought of him in a lab coat and how someone that big could be a scientist.

"Well it looks like we're here," he knocks on the door.

"Come in," Abbess Drew's voice rang out. Father Parkers opened the door and Abbess Drew instantly stood to her feet. She quickly bowed, "Father Parker, what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Well, I found this one waiting for Father O'Hara. He doesn't seem to be in and I was escorting her back to you," he smiles. He stretches his arm to let you in. You walk into her office. You quickly bow and wait for her orders. "If you don't mind, I could use some help organizing the files in my office."

"You seem to be popular," she smiles at you. "Very well, you may help Father Parker tonight. Father Parker, if you see Father O'Hara, Please remind him that if he needs to do other things please tell me so we don't have another little meeting like this. The sisters work for our Lord, not just the Fathers," she gently reminds him.

"Yes Sister Drew," he bows and starts to leave. You bow to Abbess Drew and walk out behind Father Parker. He closes the door and looks at you. "So what do you want to know?"

"What do you mean?" you looked up at him.

"About Father O'Hara. You have a whole encyclopedia about him, right here," he smiles and begins walking to his office. "I can tell you about this one time we snuck out to go see these girls in our class. Poor guy, he was so nervous."

"Father O'Hara? nervous?" you asked, grinning. Father Parker smiled back.

"Oh yeah! He almost fell out of his window when I went to go get him. But when we got there, Oh man! He was stumbling over his words and couldn't look any of them in the eyes. He just sat there playing with his hands. He wouldn't speak to me for a whole day afterward. Said I was 'being too mean' for putting him in the situation," he laughed so loud, that you looked around to see if you were bothering anyone.

"Do you know why he joined?" you asked.

"Boring question," his voice rang off the walls of the abbey. "But all I know is he showed up here, asking for me. The abbey gave him a place to stay. After a few months, he joined the church and started his journey to becoming a priest. He never told me why he was looking for me or why he decided to stay," his voice became deadly serious. "I don't mind, I was starting to miss my old buddy." he paused for a second. He giggled to himself. "You should see him when he's a few drinks in. He cannot hold his liquor. Which is weird if you think about it. O'Hara? That's an Irish name." he said matter-of-factly. "I have a question for you," you looked up in shock. He laughed, "Nothing bad. I was wondering why the other sisters call your church mouse."

"Well, I didn't know about the nickname until recently," you answered honestly.

"Oh, so not a good nickname, I guess," he said as he pushed open the door to the offices. "I like it though. It matches you," he said, opening the door to his office.

You stopped in your tracks. It was disgusting. Absolutely filthy. It looked like someone let a bird and cat in here and let them chase each other. You look around, trying to find a place to start. All your options came back as none. Nada, nothing. Zero.

"You can start over there with the boxes. All you need to do is file them into the filing cabinet," he smiled. You just looked at him in horror.

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After many hours of laughing, stories of Father Parker's and Father O'Hara's past, and lots and lots of cleaning, you had gotten the office to where you can see the floor, and desk and be able to walk from the door to the window. Now, you're slouched in his office chair, listening to him go on about his glory days in high school. Your back was screaming but you enjoyed his company and can't technically leave until he dismisses you.

"And that's how me and Miguel broke into the abandoned hospital and I scared him so bad he didn't talk to me for a week," he finished. He sees your eyes struggle to stay open. He looks up at the clock and sees it's about midnight. "Oh, I'm so sorry, you're dismissed. Sometimes I forget that you can't tell me to shut up so you can leave." you stand to your feet and limp to the door. "But thank you. I do enjoy having someone to help me clean and listen to me ramble about my past life. I appreciate it," he puts his hand on your lower back. "Have a good night, Sister."

"Thank you and I'm always willing to help again. Good night Father Parker," you said as you sleepily walked down the hallway to the door. He watches to make sure you can walk, but once you make it to the door he retreats into his office.

You walk in the silence of a sleeping abbey. The halls were only illuminated by the moon. You fought to keep your eyes open. Your back trying to not give out before you make it to your room. The threat of passing out is heavy on your mind.

Father O'Hara's name ringing in your ears. Miguel O'Hara. sisters weren't supposed to know the Fathers' first names. Father Parker gave up on trying to not say his first name about twenty minutes into talking.

You shuffled down the hall with the sisters' rooms. Once at your door, you threw yourself against it and made your way to your closet. you took off your habit and made your way to your window to close it. You looked out to the street below.

You see a figure walking below. It was a large man. You chuckle at the thought that it might be Father O'Hara. Until he turned to look back to see if anyone was around. You saw his face. It was him. but you were too tired to care and turned to your bed.

[dragonastra]

Hearing about Rooser Teeth's demise... admittedly I havent kept up with a lot of their content ever since they fired Matt Bragg. But the fact remains that I was a part of that community for several long years.

I made fanart. I made friends. My god, I made friends! Some of the closest friends I have we bonded through the AH/RT community or some branch of it. My current DnD group that streams on twitch, we were all connected to the community at one point, one way or another.

I attended RTX several times, which I maintain was a wholly unique experience unlike any anime convention I've also attended. I had so much fun in that community. I know RT has and had some problematic elements but it was also such a... force. I dont regret joining it. It got me into let's plays and streaming, it brought us RWBY which I still love despite everything and numerous other entertaining shows, and more importantly it made me laugh and connected me with friends.

To see it all dissolve so suddenly is... grief inducing. My heart definitely mourns. I've never been in another fandom community like it, and I dont know if I will again.

And of course, I hope the employees and contract workers affected can get back on their feet quickly. I cant imagine their position. Like the rug has been pulled from under their feet, I'm sure.

Just... yeah. Cowabummer, dude.

[deedala]

✨weekly tag wednesday✨

weekly tagly wednesdly?? lolol thanks for todays game and thanks for tagging me @darlingian!! and @energievie!! <<3333

About you name: deanna age: noel-aged (which isnt old actually, stop being weirdos) starsign: scorpio your first language: english second language: right now the only other language i might be able to have a little convo with you in is norwegian favourite lip product: blistex medicated mint lip balm the best food dish you can make without a recipe: pico de gallo yum yum If you drink tea, what kind?: peppermint If you drink coffee, what roast do you usually get?: light roast (i didnt know about that being more caffeine!! But yay!) favourite thing to watch on youtube right now: mike’s mic’s appropriately unhinged tv show summaries favourite thing to watch on youtube in 2012: i dont have a fuckin clue lol. All i did in 2012 was work at and manage a barber shop well over 40 hours a week, experience a fucked up pregnancy, got traumatized, and played mass effect 3. favourite item of clothing right now: my black joggers favourite item of clothing in 2012: uhmm…green cardigan was something i wore a lot to work cuz it looked extra cute with my red hair. (i had red hair in 2012!)

fandom three movies you recommend: The Fall (2006), Love and Monsters, Palm Springs your favourite concert: went to a ton of dmb shows a youth which were always insane levels of fun have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?: oh for sure, im here to enjoy myself lol have you ever left a fandom because of the fans?: i dunno what i consider leaving a fandom? I guess maybe i dont JOIN them very often (ie make friends and participate in events and such) so no i’ve never really left one as the only two i consider myself really being a part of is dragon age and shameless? the best tv show you watched last year: hmmmm….the fall of the house of usher (i have such a short fucking memory i dont know what came out earlier in the year sorry lol) do you have a fancasting you just can't let go of?: not that i can think of off the top of my head… a ship you've abandoned: uuhhmm…also cant really think of one? on a scale of 1-10 how willing are you to share your ao3 history?: oh zerooooo. Its all rather tame, i just am not willing to lay my fucking soul bare thanks lolol do you have a fandom tattoo? i dont have any tattoos which i will probably go to my grave being sad about because i have so far failed at every meager attempt to get one. what fandom do you wish was bigger?: on one hand it might be fun to have more folks around in shameless but also i know our tiny friendly tumblr bubble is what keeps things playful, so i dunno… maybe uuhhmm the expanse?  has a finale ever ruined a show for you?: how i met your mother was pretty bad. I think even worse for me was Chuck. have you... swam in an ocean?: yes been vegan/vegetarian?: i’ve been a vegetarian for 28 years gone skinny dipping?: yes gone skiing?: no been to a convention?: so so so many

now my precious nuggets, please accept this tag and either play along or just know that i am gently squishing your face in my hands @too-schoolforcool @michellemisfit @heymrspatel @heymacy @metalheadmickey @crossmydna @tanktopgallavich @sam-loves-seb @jrooc @gardenerian @mickeysgaymom @softmick @howlinchickhowl @the-rat-wins @lingy910y @sickness-health-all-that-shit @gallawitchxx @mybrainismelted @juliakayyy @creepkinginc @whatwouldmickeydo @suzy-queued @squirrel-fund @tsuga-of-mars @transmickey @sleepyfacetoughguy @palepinkgoat @themarchg1rl @purplemagpie @thepupperino @callivich @rereadanon @grumble-fish @ardent-fox @thisdivorce @lee-ow @iansw0rld @ritualpyre @vintagelacerosette @rosemacclare @maizzycakes @7x10mickey @rrapp @gofionaonthem @suchagallabitch

[pokemon-ash-aus]

How would false twins react if they saw paradox pokemon

Peach: The scientific probability of those being real old time and future pokemon is next to none. It doesnt make sense.

Indigo: They all have such poor naming conventions too. None of it really sound like a pokemon name, more of a descriptor- like eevee the Evolution pokemon. It's just- the Iron Hands Pokemon, The SlitherWing Pokemon- they arent names.

Ash: I hear you guys loud and clear, but look at that Slitherwing and tell me you dont want to fall asleep in it.

Peach: Its a scientific travesty.

Indigo: Its just an experiment.

Ash: I cant hear you over this awesome fluffy bug and oh my mew its so heckin warm

Peach: Ash...

Ash: Oh yes, Pokemon experiment or not, i love you very much Slithers.

Indigo: And he named it...

Peach: Mew damn it, guess im joining.

Indigo: Ditto to that.

[hooitsclaire]

Hello everybody! I got some new TOH pre orders that I just put up in my shops right now! The Collector charm, the Owl Family Charm, and the Hooty phone grip are joining in along with the Huntlow and Lumity Standees!

Just a reminder that pre orders end at the end of May! And that the standees are on a special price for the pre order period making them $5 cheaper! I am hoping to have these shipped out by mid June and then they will be out for sale during my Summer conventions!

Ill have some more pre orders items going up on my shop probably next week, not TOH related, they will be MHA, Trigun Stampede Gravity Falls merch! So if you like any of those keep a look out for them. 

And again if you cant buy one but would like to support me consider donating to my ko-fi! I could use the help to fund all these new merch and rn my pets are at war to see who can go to the vet the most this month 

Stores hooitsclaire.bigcartel.com (USA Only)

etsy.com/shop/hooitsclaire (International Only)

Ko-fi donations:Ko-fi.com/hooitsclaire  

Shares and likes are always appreciated!

[devotedlystrangewizard]

ok ok so

- valerian

- token cishet guy

- cishet's transfem girlfriend who is like. the second most normal person of the group

- the actual only normal person of the group

- "hey do you want me to kill that guy for you?"

- whats a dress code. what are lab regulations

- the transfem's little brother who has never taken anything seriously in his life

- Creepy Kid of the Class

- mean aromantic who keeps everyone on task

- weird girl (genderneutral)

just created concepts for all 9 other members of valerian's old friend group !!

now to name them

[tobygetsgirlz]

Lets talk about Immaculate

Immaculate is a horror movie (2024) that follows the protagonist Cecilia who is traveling to Italy to join a convent, the movie takes a turn as Cecilia finds out she is pregnant but is still a virgin. That's all Ill say so I don't spoil anything more.

if you liked movies like "the nun" and "rosemarys baby" this is a cool take on the concept. The reviews tend to be fairly negative for this movie but I will say, I thought this movie was well put together and very easy to follow.

its very psychological and has some very triggering topics as most horror movies do. The special effects is a huge plus and the soundtrack is beautifully haunting.

some of the shots int he film are so beautiful you almost forget poor Cecilia is being psychologically (and physically) tortured. I will say if you enjoy religious horror you should check it out.

the characters are very human in my opinion, people say they lack depth but I think most people cant understand such a complex situation these nuns are in. their lack of depth is due to the emotional manipulation they experience from a place that's supposed to be for worshipping God.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: some animal de4th, non consensual stuff (no actual r4pe), lots and lots of blood, lots and lots of manipulation,religious trauma and religious abuse, gore ofc

In my opinion Immaculate was a well formed movie and was just short enough to be digestible, while also making its statement very boldly challenging the ideas many people may hold. all in all this movie was a: 8/10 in my opinion. :) thanks for reading feel free to comment any questions or opinions I love hearing from y'all! :D

here are some shots from the movie that are beautiful

[starsandauras]

Prompt 29: Contravention

FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge Prompt 29: Contravention We got more thieves' cant folks, but hopefully it's not too bad. Also we've got a Will's Accent warning.

“Ye dinnae need me fer thi’ job, Jacke,” Brigid said, leaning up against the dock railing, watching as the Uprights frogmarched a set of pirates into the waiting ships of Yellowjackets. They’d attacked one of the Lomimsan Navy’s ships, and not only broke the Admiral’s “ban” on piracy, but the code besides. Certainly not something that required a Warrior of Light, even one that was one of their own.

She was incredibly pleased to not see Milala among them, she didn’t think she could resist the urge to dropkick the lalafell into the ocean otherwise.

Jacke stretched and leaned nearby, grinning at her. “Well me dimber mort, thought ye might like something a bit more low stakes, ease yerself back in the thick o’things.”

Brigid laughed softly before turning her face into the sunlight and the breeze coming off the sea. Aah, warmth and a proper ocean. She’d missed it, spending so long first in Sharlayan, then Garlemald, then careening all over creation and then some. Spending so long back in Sharlayan, recovering from it all.

Jacke was right, a simple job was what she’d needed to get back on her feet, back in her linen shirts and velveteen leggings, instead of the leathers and mail she’d become accustomed to over the years. Let her accent thicken back up, back around her people.

“Bein’ me favorite guildmaster,” she said with a grin, laughing again as Jacke crossed his arms and leveled his best fake glare at her.

“Seem to recall ye sayin’ once I wasn’t yer guildmaster anymore, takin’ up with them ninjas.”

“Aye, aye I was,” she agreed. “Ye’re still bein’ me favorite.”

Jacke sighed, but he grinned in return. “Thank ye, me dimber mort. Ye ever want to join the convent full time, ye’re always welcome back. Ye and Waters both.”

“I’ll be passin’ that ‘long.”

“And bring that natty lass along, ye hear? We’re all wantin’ to meet th’ newest member of the crew. Hear she’s a dab hand with the stabbers.”

Brigid laughed again, nodding. “Aye, we’ll be bringin’ Ryne ‘round. She’s needin’ to be meetin’ her family still hidin’ in the darkmans.”

Chatting with Jacke and waiting for V’kebbe to join up with them was… nice. She’d missed this, the simpler times, when she’d found that spot she was sure had been held for her for years. Certainly the realm would need her again, but for now… for now she was happy to simply be a Dutiful Sister again.

[redstonedust]

🐧, 🪐, and 🌟 for the hermitcraft ask game!

🐧 What is your favourite season?

im really loving s9 rn but honestly my heart will always be with s8. it was short but it was my best friend forever.

🪐 If you joined hermitcraft, who would you team with?

honestly i cant imagine 'teaming' with anyone because im a fairly individual player even on servers. id be like xb in s7 and its up to the others to bother venturing out to pester me LMAO.

🌟 Have you been to any conventions?

i mean in general? yes. any that hermits attend? unfortunately not, altho i did run into a grian cosplayer at my last mcm, if that counts,

[apollotronica]

1 38 49?

1. are looks important in a relationship?

errmmm hm. id say not really ... conventional attractiveness doesnt . do anything for me . and i dont judge whether or not id date someone based on how they look . iunno

38. have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to?

Uhjm yeag honrstly my current bf a little ... when i joined th mutual circle he was kinda just a usernamr like i knew who he was but i didnt Know really i just thought Hes friends with all these people . and then i was shot and killed and thats where it ends

49. if you have a partner, what is your favorite thing about them?

Heh I Do . smirk emoji . its hard to pick just one Honeslty but ummmm um um . i really Rrrreeeeeaaaallllllyyyyyyyyyy like his laugh and his voice in general I lovehisvoicr uuuauuauauauauaaaahhhhhh aaaaaahhhhhhh UUUUHAHAHHHHHHHRRHGRGH i love his art and sense of humor and hes so niceys and sweetness and hes smart and dedicated and kind of a weirdo but its literally so okay because i like when he giggles b4 sending an out of pocket message And i like how its kinda obvious when he doesnt like someone but no one else seems to notice AAANNNDDDDD i likr how his personality is kinda like when you eat something and its mild but tasty at first and then a bucnh of flavor kicks in And u keep eating it for the dual experience . i would say like a jawbreaker thats sweet on the outside and sour ok the inside but He wouldnt be sour if he were a flavor . im thinking sweet then spicy which is funny becausr hes a quirked up white boy rhat cant handle spice . I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND !!!!!!!!!!! WEOW I LOVE HIM SO MUCH IM COOCOO I WROTE WAY TOO MUCH AND GOT SO FAR OFF TOPIC MY BAD CHAT. ok final answer his voice👍

THANK YOU!!!!

[sardonic-sprite]

Note on negativity

Hey, y'all!

So long-time readers may remember me posting shortly after publishing "Actual Proof that Bruce Wayne is Batman" about negative comments and their harm to writers. Unfortunately after publishing "bane" i feel the need to say it again

Ao3 writers write for FUN and for THEMSELVES. They share from a vulnerable and excited place inside and not because they were obligated.

There are also multiple tagging conventions and different styles of tagging fics. For example, I choose to tag slash relationships only on the fics where they are shown, not every fic in a series that may only occasionally feature the relationship, a decision I've gotten flack for in the past.

This recent fic however (bane) DID follow an established ao3 tagging convention. Folks, please:

"Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings" is a glaring signal that there may be a very harsh story below, and is used by writers to preserve a story's tension.

If you cannot handle the unknown, you don't have to read it! If you start and then get nervous, you don't have to finish! If authors provide an optional spoiler in their notes, that is your ticket to determine if this fic is ok for you.

I do understand, believe me, that there are times when we as readers make a judgement call from the warnings and end up getting triggered. I HAVE BEEN THERE. But please stop and consider before you leave an angry, biting, sarcastic, or hostile comment.

There are a lot of young and insecure writers on that site. A lot who were probably terrified to share that fic with a huge and unknown audience. And all of them wrote for their own enjoyment or exploration. You saying cutting things to their faces is hurtful, and could cause them to stop posting or stop writing altogether. That is NOT fair to them, and its also unfair to the people who genuinely enjoy their work.

So take a minute before you rant at them and slam "send." Take five. Write your rant on a piece of paper if you want. But just click away. Dont leave a comment. Dont leave a kudo. Just click off.

Dont risk destroying a writer's desire to write.

Two years ago, some of the comments I've received could have done this to me. They could have caused me really bad mental health spirals, and if Im completely honest, they affected me a little more than I want to admit, even now. But I'm not speaking because I can't take a few snide remarks. Im speaking because I know others out there CANT, and they shouldn't have to.

There's enough out there to tear people down. Don't join it.

Thank you

- sprite

Please feel encouraged to spread this post, but DO NOT bash the bashers. Most lash out from their own hurt, and snapping back is not the answer.