#forgive me as someone with few jewish friends if any of this is wrong and please correct me if it is ❤️
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@steddiemas Day 8: Hanukkah Traditions
Steve was nervous. He'd moved in with Eddie and Wayne a month ago since his parents told him in no uncertain terms to be out by the time they got back. The past month had felt so warm and loving. But Hanukkah was beginning tomorrow and Steve was freaking out.
"Sweetheart, you don't need to stress out about it, you don't even need to join in the traditions if you don't want to. Plus Wayne and I are very chill about it, I think Wayne just likes to remember his mother's stories the most, she would've loved you."
"But it is important, Eds! You and Wayne have been so good to me and I want to show you that I appreciate that."
Eddie sighed moving towards him, curling Steve's clenched hands and intertwining their fingers.
"We know you appreciate it, Stevie, and we both love you so much, secretly I think Wayne prefers you." Steve has a quirk of a smile for a moment.
"Only cause I don't burn the toast when I make breakfast."
"It was one time and I was 12, sorry for putting effort into father's day for him," Eddie joked. "C'mon let's go help Wayne finish letting up."
Later, when the menorah was set and ready on the windowsill, cabinets stocked with ingredients for all the food they'd make, and gifts wrapped for the week ahead, the three men sat with mugs of coffee despite the late hour.
"You ready for your first Hanukkah, Steve?" Wayne asked.
"I think so, Eddie has told me a bit but I'm excited to learn."
"That's good of you, son, don't worry if you don't get it all right away, Eddie tried lighting all the candles at once when he was little."
"Can we lay off poor baby Eddie, he was a sweet boy."
"A sweet boy that brought toads home as pets."
"The frogs are mean to them."
Wayne chuckled at his nephews antics.
"Would you like to hear the story of Judah and the Maccabees, Steve? My memory isn't as good as it used to be but I'm sure I can make it as exciting as my Ma used to tell it."
"I'd love to," Steve smiled. Wayne smiled softly, getting comfy in his chair and began to tell the tale. Steve leaned into Eddie as he listened, he might not know all the traditions yet, but it already feels more like home and family than Christmas with his parents ever did.
Ao3
#forgive me as someone with few jewish friends if any of this is wrong and please correct me if it is ❤️#hanukkah isnt as big in Australia probably because we dont have as big population of people that observe the holiday#but jewish eddie is def one i can see#and steve just wants to learn and be a good bf#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddiemas#ficlet#jewish eddie munson
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i got a lot of thoughts about loveless by alice oseman and if this post seems very one sided well thats just how it read to me. my opinion isnt the end-all and i value how everyone interpreted and was affected by this book. this isnt a closed topic lets talk about it
gripes with loveless by alice oseman
took a while to actually explain that ace and aro are two separate identities and still not that well. it makes aro seem like a subset of ace which is entirely false. its cool there was an aroallo character involved but still
the book title 'loveless' is a real term and identity and the entirety of the book kinda shits on it by enforcing the ideal that its still okay to be aspec cause platonic love can be experienced and any type of love is required or at least better than "not feeling anything and being alone forever"
it was weird for her friends to forgive her over gestures that had nothing to do with apologizing before georgia actually apologized and explained but that may just be more of a personal thing that i didnt like. likewise the story being about platonic love it kinda sucks her deepest connection is with her roommate and not the people shes known for years and wronged
kinda sex negative. i mean rooney says she doesnt dislike casual sex but then that whole thing becomes the reason she hates herself and a reason to cope with being "unloveable" and its kinda lame. you can tell that story without making it seem like casual sex is just a means of devaluing yourself. and you can be sex repulsed and still not do that. it just feels unfair to aroallo people especially who are told they are monsters for enjoying and only wanting casual sex when this book is supposed to be about aromanticism too
(can we also be done with harry potter references??? lets stop hurting trans and jewish people thanks)
basically particular identities' stories shouldnt come at the expense of others and other ways of life. its great and important to write different experiences because no one is gonna relate to them all but no one has to replace romantic love with ANY type of love to feel good about themselves and be human. loveless and aplatonic people shouldnt have to read something that uses rhetoric against their identities within a book about aspec people
things i like about loveless
i didnt relate to it personally but the experiences felt very genuine. internalized aphobia, being hounded by aphobic comments, finding it hard to portray love even in a fictional or artistic sense, etc.
I appreciate the references to race and intersectionality that come with being queer even if they were minimal. so few times is it actually acknowledged that there is privilege when it comes to being understood, coming out, being accepted, etc. the references to that were nice to see because too often intersectionality being brought up is brushed off and blatantly ignored or people pretend like they understand
it was written by someone who is aroace even if there are some things that can be less isolating within the aspec community with the language being used. someone being open about their identities and how they choose to define them in the mainstream world is how we get more peoples voices in there
it has helped people discover their own identity though id still recommend further research on the actual identities being named and ones not named. these stories are the first introduction of aspec identities in mainstream and that hopefully means itll start to expand to other identities within that community that have not yet had representation
this should be the start of developing more rep. the first takes are not gonna represent everyone and its a good thing it exists to tell a few peoples story. but that doesnt mean it should be free from any criticism because thats how we make them continuously better. i hope to see an aroallo character soon. i want the term loveless to be properly used in media and expressed for what it is. i want to stop pretending like ace is the umbrella term for all aspec identities. i want amatonormativity explained as the sociological term it is that harms all life not just aromantic and polyamorous people. i want a polyam aspec character and polyam characters in general. i want disabled and ethnic aspec characters where the intersectionality is just as important to the narrative. i want a whole lot more and to stop prentending like any of that should be unreasonable
#loveless#alice oseman#osemanverse#aromantic#arospec#aspec#aroace#aroallo#loveless aromantic#loveless aro#queer#lgbtqia#made this sideblog specifically for this post
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“How did you know about the angel, Captain?!”
“I was confronted by one of their authorities. I am not sure which of their rankings, I was not given a name. I only heard a voice. Possibly an archangel or a principality, but she could have been a seraph or one of the Thrones for all I’d know.”
Ohh. Literal angels. That’s… not what the inhabitants of Rosegold Kingdom would identify as. At least not to his knowledge. This has to be some kind of mistake–Rosegold has to be some sort of traditional kingdom because Marshmallow mentioned having a queen. But the fact that someone approached the Captain about what he is inferring to be his meetings with Marshmallow, who can be mistaken to be an angel…
Perhaps this ‘she’ is either the Queen herself or some female representative of her court.
“What… has she confronted you about?”
“That you have been acting improperly around one of her own.”
“What?!!? We’re just talking! Sure, I flirted a few times here and there, but we never made actual physical contact! Well, nothing intimate, at least! He seems to like me so far, but we’re just friends!” Guy remembers the flower crown, now removed from his head to be hung on his wall. “We’re not-... it’s not like we’re courting! I don’t think we are!”
Josep finds that hard to believe. “‘You don’t ‘think’?’”
“Well, it’s not like I’m getting into his pants anytime soon, if that’s what you’re worried about. I highly doubt that’ll happen anyway. Not with the way things are going.”
“If that is the case… I am grateful, Guy.”
“...’Grateful’?”
“The angelic authority spoke to me how dangerous it was on their end. On our end it is dangerous as well. Can you imagine if the Master found out you were consorting with an agent of Heaven? Or if the Lord has found out an angel is mingling with humans like they did when they produced the Nephilim before the Flood?”
That… is wrong. The statement is wrong. And yet… not wrong at all at the same time. Guy knows full well Marshmallow and the Rosegold Kingdom is nothing like the angelic council in the Jewish and Christian bibles. However, he was able to recall the monster’s injury when they first met on La Demonia Roja. He recalls how Marshmallow suddenly acted distant upon remembering he had a Queen. What Josep is warning of may be a misunderstanding of the actual nature of these ‘angels’, but he is otherwise right for all the wrong reasons:
Guy meeting with him could either make him vulnerable to the Master or ruin his place among his own people. It’ll only further validate and confirm Guy is nothing but trouble and must not get close.
“....I fully understand, Captain. I will keep my distance. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused today. For the record, the scorched parts of town were due to a different date altogether. One that Ruixiong tried to organize in an attempt to lift my spirits, but I ended up getting angry with him and the date instead. I overreacted.”
“Did the date do something to offend you?”
“Not the date. Just Ruixiong. But you know how he is. Don’t punish him for what I did. He was just trying to cheer me up. I will not be leaving the hold until a very long while. I will accept any punishment you deck out onto me.”
“No. That will not be necessary. Seeing how you are still in there within the hold… I think you are being punished enough.”
“I’m not leaving the ship, Captain. Only when in relation to the Eye. I don’t want to see or be seen by anyone. All the more nowadays. Forgive me, Captain. But this includes you now.”
“..........”
“!! I-...I didn’t mean to let that slip out…!!”
“There is no need to apologize. I understand you are upset with everything that is happening to you right now. Please be well, Guy. I’ll check on you later.”
#[Sinfully Valentining 2]#[Captain Josep Frascona]#[Guy Duchamp]#rosegoldkingdom#religion tw#isn't dramatic irony fun????
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hopefully i don't sound too 'woe is me' about this (i do i started waxing poetic,) i'm just trying to sort out my own feelings. that said...
i think i'm too hard on myself about trying not to feel sad that i can't ever really be a part of the self ship community the way i was anymore. i don't think it was about validation, as i tend to parrot, as much as it was about connection. i liked feeling like i could share this part of myself with others who could share their parts in return. but now that i'm as far as i am in my understanding, there is no going back even if i wanted to.
it is not a community that believes in forgiveness. it's built on 2010s tumblr politics, the type where you find the bad guys and fight them off. the type that doesn't believe in humanity. i knew the risks when i took them (said like a soldier lol.) i'm ultimately glad i separated myself from that community because it has spurred a lot of self growth and maturity i wouldn't have obtained if i had continued to obey the dni rules of my mutuals. i don't consider learning the truth to be a mistake, i'm aware now that the behavior i myself partook in was wrong, and i'm better for it. i just wish other people would have listened when i said 'actually, no, he's not a nazi' because he LITERALLY WASN'T!!!! but when i posted about him i forgot that the people who saw that post weren't seeing me, they were seeing a label they had already been told how to perceive. that's the bad guy from the bad show, this mutual has gone fallow! alas, i may use them for dopamine hits no longer! begone!
i just hate it because like. i know i wasn't doing anything wrong! i am a person who would never in a million years like a fascist! but so many people just immediately came to conclusions based on false assumptions. i almost wish i had done something bad, then at least the reaction would have been justified. no, this could have happened to any tv show. aot had just enough subject matter for people to twist into lies for it to become as hated as it is. all people know are that there are nazis, and the titans are jewish people. so they come to conclusions. but the characters they assume are nazis ARE jewish people. and then it all falls apart! because surprise, it's a narrative ABOUT antisemitism & fascism, not a narrative in favor of it! eeeeeveryone inside the walls is jewish. all of them. and there are a few nazis in there... but they're jewish children who are being exploited by the nazi government as child soldiers. so still jewish. and all of them have incredibly complicated trauma on the matter that gets explored in a nuanced and empathetic manner! Idk i'm just rambling about aot at this point lolol but my reason for talking about this is just what i said and have been saying.
i simply wish the community was truly a 'community.' it's only really for people who fit a narrow and flawed perception of how to be 'moral' with extensive virtue signaling dnis and all of the right opinions, which you've always held, because god forbid someone dredge up an old discord screenshot to justify a petty grudge. but i also hate proship communities. i hate the way they have no standards for what is and isn't okay. i hate groupthink. i wish people could form their own opinions. and i don't lack a community per se, i have many amazing friends who i am lucky to have in my life, i just enjoy new people. i enjoy self ships and self inserts and seeing other people creatively love themselves. it's just sad to know i can never be a part of it the same way again, not only due to my own disillusionment, but because unless my self ships are palatable, even if i can find mutuals who are chill and get it, they can't... reblog my posts. it's as though i'm stuck in the shallow waves of a tidepool, watching as everyone else plays in the ocean. sometimes people will come my way and offer me a bit, but they'll never invite me over with them, for i'm covered in sea urchins! what would the others think? and i don't hold it against anyone, i don't want anyone to sacrifice their community and end up like me. i just think i'm allowed to be a bit sad all the same. i do miss sharing en masse with people who will share back to me.
#antisemitism tw#sparkletwinkles#ntm the way i saw so many people f/oing like. child abusers and characters who Are For Real Fascists#clay puppington? no one bats an eye... but Levi on the other hand.
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hi ollie. so I read both jily and jegulus (rare I know) and also a lot of other ships like drarry, wolfstar, dramione, etc (I just like fanfic okay lol). today the jily fandom went off on dark!james fics, with several jily writers basically saying that fics with death eater james / love stories involving death eater characters are “nazi romance” and their supporters are “nazi sympathizers” and “fascists” in the fic community. It has been jarring to watch as I (and am sure most others) are not those things irl and now idk how to interact with fandom in general because of how intense it is. you are my fave jegulus writer so i wanted to ask if you have any thoughts/advice on all of this??
Hi friend. First of all, thank you, I’m glad you enjoy my writing. <3
So, this ask is the first I’m reading about the discourse that happened, not only because I don’t follow many jily accounts (just because they’re not really my ship), but also because I was offline the majority of the day at a family function.
I tried to do some digging on the jily accounts I do follow. Firstly, I am not POC, nor am I Jewish. I am a privileged white kid from the middle of the USA. I have internalized racism. I try really hard to learn and grow as much as I can to be an anti-racist, but at the end of the day I have never experienced racism directed at me. I’m saying this because I don’t want anyone to be confused, I am not the authority on this. My opinion doesn’t really matter, if a person of color tells you that what you’re doing is racist and wrong, then it is. Period.
I’ll be honest I’m pretty exhausted, so maybe I’m not comprehending correctly, but, from what I understand, the problem with the majority of dark!James fics (or at least the ones being talked about) is that he’s being portrayed as (forgive me for lack of pretty words here) hotter or sexier when he is equivalent to a nazi. That somehow, him being part of the Death Eaters is hot because he’s a good guy gone bad. That makes sense to me. Being a Nazi is not something that should make someone hot, right? I get the trope that the “bad guy” in a story is hot. I like that trope. But you can make someone a bad guy without making them a Nazi, right? You can make someone the hot sexy villain without making them a fascist. Right? I think that’s what I’m understanding from all of this, and if I’m wrong please correct me because I want to learn.
So… Does that mean we can have dark!James or Death Eater James fics?
I think it depends on how it’s written, right? And again, correct me if I’m wrong but, if James is becoming a DE to save people he loves maybe it’s alright? As long as when you’re writing it it’s very clear that this is a bad decision, something morally wrong and not sexy. You’re not making him a DE to make him hot. You’re having him choose that side to infiltrate, to help people. He’s making a morally bad decision to keep someone he loves safe. I feel like that would be okay? But again, I am not part of a marginalized community. So I could be completely misinterpreting the few posts I was able to find and read.
And I’ve posted before that it’s okay to like morally grey characters and dark characters, because it is and you don’t need a reason for liking them. But you also need to understand the implications that fics have on real life and how your internalized racism and anti semitisim may affect how you view the fic. I don’t know if I’m making any sense here at this point but basically what I’m trying to say is: I think you can enjoy media but you also need to be conscious about how it may effect your prejudices and work on understanding where those prejudices come from and make changes in your life to be a better person.
And you guys know I’m very much of the mindset of “don’t like it don’t read it” but there are some cases where content is harmful to a community, wether it be the jewish community, the trans community, the nomad community, etc. And we all need to be aware of that, and if people from those communities are saying it’s wrong and giving us explanations of why, then we need to listen to them.
I’ll try to find more of the posts tomorrow and read up on this subject more and add to this post if I think it’s necessary. <3
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Innocents don’t shed blood...
A Donny Donowitz X Fem!Reader requested by the sweet @redrosewritingsstuff.
Hope you’ll enjoy this story!
Hidden in a French forest, the Basterds tried to have some rest after their last successful raid against a German patrol.
While Omar and Hirschberg took a well-deserved nap, Wicki checked on his rifle, whereas Andy, Simon, Smitty, and Michael were playing cards.
As for Hugo, he sat on a rock while (Y/N) strapped a bandage around his hand.
(Y/N), the "Angel," as the Basterds nicknamed her because of her soft and caring personality. Even Hugo is more relaxed around her. After all, she was the only member of the team who did not kill any Nazis because she did not have to pay the "scalp debt" to Aldo.
She was like a ray of sunshine for those men, and especially for Donny Donowitz, who fell madly in love with her. Luckily for him, the lady felt the same.
Speaking of the latter, he glanced at (Y/N) with adoring eyes, watching every gesture of her delicate hands. A few seconds later, she finished her job:
"Here you are, Hugo! Next time, be careful with your knife!"
"I'll try to remember. Danke, Engelsschwester (Angel Nurse) (Y/N)." replied the soldier with a sly smile.
"You're welcome." answered the girl with a warming smile.
That same smile made Donny falling head over heels for her when they first met.His lieutenant, who watched the whole scene with amusement, decided to wake up his Sargent from his daydreaming.
"C'mon, Don, stop staring at your girl as if she was ice cream!" snickered Aldo.
Blushing, the Bear Jew muttered some Bostonian curses under his breath, while the other Basterds laughed at him.
However, Aldo did not expect the response from the young woman:
"So, Donny is looking at me like I'm ice cream? Well, that proves I'm so delicious!"
Utivich and Zimmerman howled with laughter, while Donny smiled proudly: his angel was the best!
Aldo chuckled:
"Ya gotta the point, girl!"
"Thanks, sir!"
Two hours later, Aldo got up and said:
"OK, guys, I've just finished doing the inventory of our supplies. I can't say we're running out, but if we don't buy supplies quickly, we'll be in trouble!"
"That much ?" Wicki asked.
"Bsolutely. That's why we have to go to the nearest village to do some shopping."
He walked over to Hirschberg and Omar, who were sleeping soundly, and ordered in a loud voice:
"Get up, ya lazybones!"
"Huh? What? What's going on?" the two men stammered.
"It happens that we have to restock, or you won't have dinner tonight! Come on, get up, and hurry!"
"Go without me: it will give me time to do some tidying up." suggested (Y / N)
At these words, Donny frowned.
"I'd rather you come with us (Y / N). I'm not comfortable leaving you all alone!"
"But hey, what do you want to happen to her? There's no one passing through here!" protested Hirschberg.
"I'm worried about her safety, damn it!" yelled the Bear Jew.
The young nurse ran her thin hand over her lover's cheek, which instantly calmed him.
"It's fine, Donny. I can manage on my own while you're away."
"She's right, Don: and then, it won't be too long. An hour maximum!" Sakowitz reassured him.
Letting out a long sigh, Donowitz surrendered with a smile:
"Alright, I trust you, doll. I'll be back ASAP!"
"I'm not worried. See you later, teddy bear!"
"See you later, angel!" Donny replied, placing a kiss on the tip of the nurse's nose, making her laugh.
"We'll buy you some medical supplies when we get back."
"Thanks, Michael!"
"See you later, (Y / N)," Omar told her.
While the men left for the city, the young woman remained alone in the camp.
She began to sort through the medicine boxes and carefully put them away in her case before thoroughly cleaning her syringes and surgical equipment.
Then, she took the metal box to store her surgical equipment and looked at it tenderly: on the lid was engraved an angel with a little nurse's hat: a sweet gift from Smitty, Hirschberg, Omar, and Andy for her birthday.
And to think that at the beginning, the other soldiers called her crazy when she joined Lieutenant Raine's team: they thought she was going to get mistreated. It was quite the opposite: the Basterds had immediately loved her.
Continuing with her cleaning, she hummed a tune her mother sang to her when she was little:
“Ma petite est comme l’eau,
Elle est comme l’eau vive.
Elle court comme un ruisseau
Que les enfants poursuivent.
Courrez, courrez
Vite si vous le pouvez !
Jamais, jamais
Vous ne la rattraperez !”
But as she worked, she didn't hear the German soldier creep up behind her. The latter had stumbled upon the Bastards' encampment by pure chance, but seeing that she was alone, he thought to himself that he had an opportunity to hurt those who massacred his comrades by making their friend suffer.
He approached her silently, then jumped on the young woman, causing her to fall to the ground.
Fighting back, the young woman screamed:
“Leave me alone, you jerk!”
Her attacker just slapped her before responding with a sadistic smile:
"Also, du kämpfst gern, kleine Schlampe? Wo sind deine sogenannten Freunde? Niemand wird dich retten! (So, you like to fight, little bitch? Where are your so-called friends? No one is going to save you!)".
Trying to escape, (Y / N) managed to grab a pan and sent it in the face of his assailant, who let out a cry of rage. Taking advantage of the confusion, she started to run, but suddenly a hand grabbed her ankle, and she fell to the ground again.
The Nazi attacked her again, a glint of madness in his eyes. Searching by all means for a weapon to defend herself, the young woman grabbed the first object that was within her reach and struck for the first time. Then a second. Then a third. She, who had never fought in her life, unleashed all her rage and fear on her opponent by beating him up.
(Y / N) only ceased her blows when her attacker stopped moving. Not understanding what had happened, she looked at her hands and discovered in horror that they were covered in blood. And on top of that, she was holding a knife. She glanced at her nurse's uniform, which was also stained with blood.
She glimpsed at her aggressor and noticed that he laid on the ground, inert, with his eyes wide open and his chest pierced with multiple stabs.
It was then that she understood what had happened: for the first time in her life, she had just killed a man. Admittedly, it was self-defense, but (Y / N) was appalled by her gesture: how were the others going to react when they discover her crime?
Trembling, she let go of the knife and fell to the ground, breathing erratically and unable to emit a single sob ...
Meanwhile, the Bastards were returning from town with their provisions.
"We have everything we need: we'll be quiet for a while!" Andy said.
"What are we doing, Lieutenant?" Hugo asked.
"We're staying here for tonight, and we'll be heading to Lyon tomorrow morning! We have an appointment with members of the Resistance!" Aldo replied.
For his part, Donny walked in silence, holding in his pocket the present he planned to give to his angel. He didn't like being away from her, even if it was only for a few moments, because he feared he couldn't protect her.
"Don't worry, Romeo: you will be soon reunited with your Juliet!" Wicki joked sweetly.
Suddenly, Smitty listened:
"Do you hear that?"
"What ?" Hirschberg asked.
"Hush, listen!"
Everyone fell silent and heard moans in the distance as if someone was hurt. When they realized it was a woman's voice, they all thought of the same person:
"(Y/N)"
They ran towards their camp as fast as they could, praying that nothing wrong had happened to their nurse.
The one who worried the most was Donny: if anything had happened to (Y/N), he would never forgive himself.
A few minutes later, they arrived near their camp and discovered traces of the struggle.
"But what the heck happened here?" Hirschberg asked, stunned.
"I don't know, but that doesn't reassure me!" Simon replied.
"Somebody got into a fight here, for sure ... But where is (Y/N)?" Hugo exclaimed.
Suddenly, they heard wheezing near them. The Bastards turned and saw their nurse lying on the ground, breathing heavily, and her chest covered in blood.
At that moment, Donny had the impression that the ground gave way beneath his feet: all he feared had happened, he had failed to protect his angel.
"NO! Y/N!" he cried, rushing towards the young woman, and holding her in his arms.
"Oh, my God !" Utivich panicked.
"WICKI! COME HERE QUICKLY!" yelled Aldo.
The Austrian arrives near the young woman and begins to examine her, fearing to find too serious injuries. As for the others, they were petrified: they blamed themselves for having left her alone. If she had come with them, they could have protected her.
But when he finished, Wilhelm looked puzzled.
"So what's wrong with her? Are her injuries serious? But answer me, damn it!" the Jewish Bear said impatiently.
"How can I tell you ... It's not her blood!"
"What do you mean ?" Aldo asked.
"She has no physical injuries ... other than that bruise on her face!"
"Who hit her?" Omar asked, ready to gut the one who had dared to raise his hand on his best friend.
"Probably the Fritz who looks like a colander and is lying on the floor!" Andy replied, pointing to the corpse of the Nazi lying on the ground.
Seeing the body of their enemy, the Bastards did not take long to understand what had happened during their absence. But it was necessary to be clear about it.
"Tell me (Y/N), what happened?" Aldo asked.
The young woman looked up at her lieutenant, and the Apache could see in the nurse's gaze anguish, shame, and immense sadness.
She tried to explain, but she could only let out a strangled sob. Her guilt was suffocating her.
"Don't worry, doll, I'm here!" reassured her Donny, who hugged her.
"Take your time. We will listen to you when you're ready," Simon said to her.
Catching her breath, the young woman began her story:
"I was doing some tidying up when he threw himself on me ... It went so fast that I didn't understand what was happening at the time. I defended myself as I could. I thought he was going to kill me. After that, everything happened so quickly. It became blurry. And I only stopped when I saw all this blood on my hands. "
She looked up at her companions, on the verge of tears:
"I know I had no choice but… I felt like I had betrayed Nightingale's pledge, and I was so afraid of your reaction!"
"(Y/N), don't be upset about it. We all know you fought back, and you did well. No one will blame you for stabbing a Fritz." Wicki told her.
"Still, you did not miss him: the Kraut is very messed up!" Hirschberg joked.
But seeing (Y/N) 's desperate face and the glare that his companions gave him, he realized that it was not the right time.
"Frankly, Hirschberg, just shut up!" Hugo sighed, rolling his eyes.
Night fell, and the Batards took advantage of the calm of the forest to feed and rest before the long journey that awaited them.
Recovering from his emotions, Y/N stayed close to Donny throughout the evening, seeking comfort from his lover.
Even though her guilt was starting to fade, she couldn't help but feel disgusted with what had happened. Of course, the war revealed the dark side of the human being, but the nurse hoped, deep down, that she would not fall into this trap.
"Is everything all right, princess?" Donny asked.
The young woman shyly nodded:
"I'm doing a little better..."
"Come on over there ..." her lover said softly, taking her against him.
(Y/N) let himself go into the sergeant's muscular, protective, and reassuring embrace.
"I understand that you are still shaken by what happened. But that does not change anything for me: you remain my ray of sunshine ... And the others think the same."
"Really ?"
"I swear to you: they were impressed that you, the most pacifist among us, killed a Nazi. And that proves that you are indeed one of us."
He reached into his pocket and handed her a necklace adorned with an angel medallion made of bluestone.
Without a word, she picked up the object and stared at it, fascinated, before returning her attention to Donny, who was staring at her fondly.
"Don't forget (Y/N): even if the blood still flows at your feet, even if it stains your clothes, even if it strews your face, you will always remain my immaculate angel ... And I'll always be here for you!"
To his relief, a moved smile lit up the face of the young woman who kissed him.
"Thank you for your trust!"
"Anytime, doll. Anytime."
They hugged with strength. The young nurse whispered:
"I love you, Don."
"I love you too, (Y / N)"
And as they were about to fall asleep, the young nurse had a calm mind: yes, the innocent do not shed blood, but as long as they are surrounded by those who love them, nothing can defile them.
And she knows her Bear Jew is watching over it.
Thanks for reading ! I’m waiting for your requests and your reviews !
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To the woman who assaulted me at Ace Hardware today,
Jan. 15, 2021
I am your neighbor in Frazier Park. I love this mountain and feel so blessed to live here. You must enjoy its beauty as much as I do, because it is unsurpassed. The woods and wildlife give me solace. I have also always had good experiences among the humans of the mountain, shopping locally, where we all know each other and everyone is friendly. I like supporting our community and keeping everyone working and happy. I’ve never had a bad time shopping in Frazier Park, so it was somewhat of a shock to meet you this way today.
My husband and I were picking up some bird seed at Ace Hardware. If you live in Frazier Park and not in Pine Mountain Club, it’s still legal to feed the birds! We love our feathered friends. They have also been giving me nice brass shavings from their key machine which I use to make orgonite, an energy device which promotes rainfall, clears air pollution, and makes living with EMF safer. My husband, Gabe, and I have been making and gifting orgonite for almost seven years now, and we have covered all of California and much of the US west to end the drought. You might be interested to know that we have put orgonite all over this mountain too. It sure has been snowing more and more every year since we got here and the forests are alive with new baby trees, far outnumbering the trees that die of old age. There were awesome wildflower blooms out in the Antelope Valley and Gorman these past few years. It might also comfort you to know that there are Earth pipes along San Andreas Fault here and at the top of Mt. Pinos, healing the damage that was done here by your ancestors, who stole the land from the Chumash Indians and clear-cut the forests. This will help prevent earthquakes. We have gifted somewhere around 200 orgonite pieces to these mountains, from the Grapevine to the Central Coast. I wrote a book about it too. Our life and most of our resources have gone into planetary healing.
Now that you know a little more about me, I would like to know more about you. I wasn’t covering my face today like you were because I am not a member of your religion. We should be tolerant of other peoples’ beliefs. I am tolerant of your choice to hide your face from your Creator, although I don’t agree with it. I would never hit you and insult you for wearing a mask or for any other reason. What told you that I was to be deplored because of my exposed nose and mouth? When you called me a “f-ing b-tch” and punched me in the ribs, it didn’t hurt physically because you’re old and weak. But I was wondering if it was your mom or dad who taught you to do that? Did you learn it in school or in church? I’ve never been cursed at and hit by an old woman before.
I put on the mask in order not to offend you, although I didn’t have to. You continued to yell, and you were very close to me when you yelled that I would infect you. If I’m so disgusting and disease-ridden, it would be a good idea to stand a few feet away from me when you insult me. I think about 6 feet should do it. It’s also not a good idea to punch a sick person because you could get my germs on your hand. How come you disappeared out the back door when I called out, “She assaulted me!” If you’re right, you should stick around.
Incidentally, soon after we met, I tried to run into the grocery store to grab some garlic. Like at the hardware store, the employees there never get on my case for my need to breathe and show the face God gave me. I got verbally assaulted there by a customer again, which wasn’t as bad as being hit and verbally assaulted at the same time. But the woman there was much younger than you, so you may want to give her some pointers on how to really hurt your neighbor. She said, “You’re killing my family.” She also blamed me for her sick dog. It was more likely a combination of pinworms, Ascaris, a variety of liver and intestinal flukes, some tapeworms, solvents and heavy metals that killed them, along with the ventilators they pop peoples’ lungs with if they come into the hospital with a cold. I’m reading a fascinating book right now called The Cure for All Diseases by Dr. Hulda Clark. It explains all of these diseases you think are infectious and how to cure them. You need to zap your parasites and stop sharing your worms! Stop putting filth in your mouth and reinfecting yourself, says Dr. Clark. Germs are not jumping around in the air. You can learn to heal anything that’s wrong with you with this book.
In your case, you’re definitely watching too much news. I would venture to guess you’re also taking an assortment of pharmaceutical drugs which are masking symptoms of your own worms and the bacteria and viruses they carry. You probably use a smart phone. Lots of old people who don’t even understand the technology do. I wish you would be more like my grandma, who never hit a lady in the store nor uttered an obscenity. She never would have used a smart phone either. She was beautiful, strong, dignified, spoke several languages, loved fine art, cooked great meals and enjoyed life. It’s sad what a shriveled lump of fear you’re become. My grandma survived the very oppression you are doling out today by a miracle of God. Goodness knows, her life was in danger every moment for being Jewish and from Germany at the wrong time. Now I also feel like I’m in danger. If you’ll physically assault a stranger for having a different belief, then what if someone stronger or armed would do it? This is not something I want to find out. Fortunately I have a relationship with God who protects me and am saved by Messiah Yeshua. He reconciled me back to God who forgave my sin of falling into pagan culture like you have. Your world is a fantasy land, but it’s really more like a nightmare, and it is dying like you have died.
There were a few people in the store after you fled the scene who showed me sympathy. But I now know how bad things have gotten. You showed me that today. You made me feel physically sick, not just emotionally distressed, with a little help from your insane ally at the grocery store. Just last week I could go into most places in Frazier Park with my face showing. It seems your time is running out and your world is spiraling out of control. For now, I would rather not argue with you. I will cover my face in your presence and you won’t know I don’t worship your god. It gives me more inspiration to become more self-reliant and less dependent on the businesses of your world. I hate the mask with a passion. I hate what it represents and how you look in it. I think it’s very sad that you love your pathetic false god and believe this absolutely ridiculous narrative to the point that you would assault another woman. C0VID is a mental illness!
Well that’s all for now. I hope to hear from you soon. Maybe you will realize it was wrong to hit me and curse at me and I’ll forgive you. Then we can be friends and have a kosher barbeque when the weather warms up. I’m not holding my breath, no pun intended.
Your neighbor,
Sharon Daphna
#orgone#orgone energy#orgonite#frazier park#california#gorman#lebec#pine mountain club#antelope valley#mountains#snow#rainbow#poppies#ace hardware#forest#earth pipes#birds#God#Jesus#Yeshua#faith#end times#dr. hulda clark#hulda clark#zapper#healing#health#planetary healing
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What If It’s Us by Becky Albertalli and Adam Silvera
“I don’t know if we’re a love story or a story about love. But I know whatever we are that it’s great because we kept jumping through the hoops in the first place.”
I didn’t think this story could possibly be cuter than I expected to be but it was. It far surpassed my expectations with it’s quirky, insecure ensemble of characters and the story was written in a way that convinced me to accept such an open ending when usually that’s my biggest pet peeve.
Overall, this story is just a fun take on a whirlwind summer romance because it pulls in all the weird, slightly crazy aspects of modern dating like missed connections and the ease of internet stalking. It was exactly what I needed as a counterbalance to the dumpster fire that is 2020 and if you’re looking for that brief escape into a wholesome, awkward romance and story about first loves and second chances and the complexity of dating and friendships than I would highly recommend!
My only semi-complaint were the issues within Arthur, Jessie, and Ethan’s friendship could’ve been fleshed out more to do justice to the time the authors took to flesh out the side characters and their relationships with the main characters. I felt like that fight didn’t balance out the fight Ben had with Dylan because it was clear how that disagreement was building over the course of the summer. Also it felt too obvious that Jessie and Ethan were secretly dating and I was confused and unsatisfied by Ethan’s explanation that he didn’t text Arthur back the whole summer simply because it felt like lying and didn’t think twice about how ignoring Arthur (especially right after he came out) would make him feel. Also the whole time it made it seem like Arthur and Jessie were slightly closer and she had no qualms texting him and lying to him all summer and let’s just say I’m not as forgiving as Arthur was.
Let me know your thoughts!
Keep reading for some fun quotes I saved!
Normally, being an intern is more boring than terrible, but today’s uniquely shitty. You know that kind of day where the printer runs out of paper, and there’s none in the supply room, so you try to steal some from the copier, but you can’t get the drawer open, and then you push some wrong button and the copier starts beeping? And you’re standing there thinking that whoever invented copy machines is this close to getting their ass kicked? By you? By a five-foot-six Jewish kid with ADHD and the rage of a tornado? That kind of day? Yeah.
I believe in love at first sight. Fate, the universe, all of it. But not how you’re thinking. I don’t mean it in the our souls were split and you’re my other half forever and ever sort of way. I just think you’re meant to meet some people. I think the universe nudges them into your path.
Ex-boyfriend. Which means Box Boy dates guys. And okay. Wow. This doesn’t happen to me. It just doesn’t. But maybe the universe works differently in New York. Box Boy dates guys. I’M A GUY.
It’s weird—now I want to prove it. I want some gay ID card to whip out like a cop badge. Or I could demonstrate in other ways. God. I would happily demonstrate.
“On the sad scale, how are you feeling today?” Dylan asks. “Opening-montage-of-Up sad? Or Nemo’s-mom-dying sad?” “Whoa, no. Definitely not opening-montage-of-Up sad. That shit was devastating. I’d guess I’m somewhere in between, like last-five-minutes-of-Toy-Story-3 sad. I just need time to bounce back.”
“Let’s talk about why you really didn’t mail the breakup box,” Dylan says, like he’s going to bill me for this conversation. “Only if you drop the therapist voice,” I say. “Maybe we can begin with why my tone bothers you. Do I remind you of an authority figure?”
I’m certain that I’m 100 percent gay because if I was even 1 percent bisexual I would be crushing hard on Samantha for looks and high energy alone. Dylan watches Samantha as if she were glowing, and I wonder when I went dim for Hudson. If I ever really glowed for him at all.
“I would love to start my own app games. I have this one idea. It’s like Frogger, but instead of heavy-traffic streets, it takes place on the sidewalks of New York. You die if you get hit with someone’s shopping cart and you lose points if you cross a tourist’s path while they’re taking photos.
Emotional blue balls. That’s what it feels like. It’s being handed everything you’ve ever longed for, only for it to slip through your fingers. And there’s no way to fix it. Nothing you can do but slink toward the kitchen counter in a full-body mope.
"You’re not being fair to yourself,” Dylan says. “Maybe not. But I’m being honest.”
It’s this strangling fear that we’ll be sitting there and we’ll run out of something to say and I’ll be able to witness the exact moment someone falls out of love with me because I don’t have enough substance to keep a conversation alive over a meal. Why would you want to talk to me for the rest of your life?
But no. Not even close. Instead, it’s me bleeding out all my neuroses, looking for answers to questions I have no right to be asking. But I don’t know how to make myself stop asking them. People like me should come with a mute button.
I have only said one word on this call—a call I made—and I’m already ready to settle into another few hours of Arthur rambling. It’s better than my favorite Lorde and Lana Del Rey songs.
“You can sing a different song next time,” I say. I like that we’ll have a next time. That even though things have gone wrong, we’ve tried to make it right. “So I was nervous to admit this at karaoke, but—” “Please don’t tell me you’re actually a bunch of rats wearing a cute boy as a disguise.” “Worse.” I take a deep, dramatic breath. “I haven’t listened to Hamilton.” He doesn’t say anything. Then the line goes dead.
I tell him how I want to write Hamilton and Harry Potter crossover fanfiction and call it The Great American Fantasy Novel and stage all those duels in the dueling club and what houses I would sort everyone in.
“All history should be taught through rap by Lin-Manuel Miranda.”
“How lucky we are to be alive right now, right?” “Oh my god, you’re speaking Hamilton—I’m just so into you. I’m helpless.” I’m so into him too.
“For the most part, I think. But every city has its assholes.” I want to hug him, but he doesn’t want to be touched right now. Like any affection is going to become a target sign on our backs. Like we’ll get punished because our hearts are different.
But it’s just like the old posts on Instagram that I can’t get myself to just delete. Like Hudson never happened. Like he’s someone to be ashamed of. And throwing away the good memories feels like a slap in the face to our history. It has nothing to do with the future.
When the song ends, I’m ready to apologize. But Arthur takes my phone and looks up a cover of “Only Us” from Dear Evan Hansen, and he comes closer to me as he sings the words “So what if it’s us, what if it’s us, and only us.” This song is so beautiful. What it feels like to be wanted by someone who sees you for who you are. How the world—the business of Times Square—can feel like it’s falling away when you’re with the right person.
But maybe this isn’t how life works. Maybe it’s all about people coming into your life for a little while and you take what they give you and use it on your next friendship or relationship. And if you’re lucky, maybe some people pop back in after you thought they were gone for good.
Maybe I’m feeling masochistic. Or maybe I’ve unlocked the secret, and this is how people focus. All you have to do is have a cute boy rip your heart out, then let your best friends stomp all over it, and if it’s still beating even a little bit, finish the job yourself. Say the worst things and yell your voice raw and destroy everything you love until, lo and behold, the monotony of work is a relief.
I don’t know how to tell Hudson that I want to throw away a box of things that used to mean everything to me. But that fucking box. I can’t keep treating it like something that belongs in a museum’s exhibit specializing in one guy’s history of breaking hearts.
“Do not ask any what-if questions about you and Hudson dating again. That would probably end in literal heartbreak at the hands of someone pretty familiar with the law because of his summer internship but too reckless to care.”
It’s hard to be a fully functioning Arthur when your heart lives in four envelopes.
I can’t lose you forever. You can’t be someone I just knew for one summer. I have to know you every summer.
#what if it's us#Becky Albertalli#adam silvera#ya#young adult#summer romance#mlm#nyc#coming of age#friendship#books#book quotes#book blog#booklr#quotes#just some softbois falling in love during a summer in nyc#lots of hamilton references
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One Day
This fic is my gift for @feilcityqueen who loves missing moments. By @tangled23works
Rating: Teen and Up Words: 1500 Relationship: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
I hope you’ll enjoy this one, my friend. It is set in Season 2, a little after Oliver makes that stupid mistake in Russia. Have fun reading!
November 2013
Felicity stared at the stupid gadget that her annoying friend from college had sent as a prank. The thing was built like a watch but it obviously didn’t function as a one or at least like any watch that she knew. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure what it was. She was tempted to break it with a hammer and claim it had been an accident but a bet was a bet and if she lost she would have honor it. Yup, that was not allowed.
The continuous sound of metal clanking on metal disrupted her concentration. If her vigilante boss-slash-friend could stop doing that for one minute, she might have a chance to actually concentrate.
As if he had heard her thoughts, he jumped from the salmon ladder on the unforgiving concrete. He made it seem effortless, moving quietly like a jungle cat but she knew it was the exact opposite. Felicity had once tried to climb on the thing, while Oliver was on a mission of course. Thankfully, Dig had caught her trying to get to the second rung before she could get hurt. It was higher than she had expected which had made her dizzy in seconds. That was the day she discovered her fear of heights was legitimate and not just a remnant of their break-in last year in Merlyn Global.
“Fe-li-ci-ty”
She jumped and turned around so fast that her ponytail smacked Oliver on the arm.
“You need a bell. A big, brown, cowbell that rings whenever you move.” She made a mental note. “Yup, that’s what your Secret Santa is bringing you for the holidays. Not that I drew your name during this year’s Secret Santa at the office but if I had, I would definitely-”
“Breathe, Felicity.”
She fixed her glasses. “Why are you so sweaty?”
His expression showed nothing but she could tell that he was amused. “Have you ever tried the ladder? It’s impossible not to be sweaty after thirty minutes on that thing.”
“Wow, that’s the most words you have spoken to me since Russia. Are you sure you don’t have a fever or something?”
In hindsight, mentioning Russia and referring to Oliver’s escapades with TheOneWhoShallNotBeNamed might not have been such a great idea. The humour vanished from his expression and he reached for the nearest towel, turning his back to Felicity.
“I know things have been fraught between us…”
“Have they?” she mocked. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Felicity,” he sighed.
“You know, Oliver, saying my name isn’t considered a full sentence. Could you please use a little more grammar and syntax?”
He grunted and threw the towel away.
“And you’re back to brooding.” She threw her hands in the air. “Whatever, Oliver.”
He put on a gray henley with a lot more force than was necessary.
“What do you want me to say? I already explained-”
“Yeah, let’s not revisit that particular discussion, thank you very much. It was hard enough to stomach the first time.”
Their eyes locked for a few moments. In his gaze she could read the remorse and guilt eating him alive. There were a few other emotions buried under that but she had not mastered the art of deciphering his feelings yet. Suddenly, with a clarity that had been missing from her life for days she realized she didn’t want that. Making him apologize over and over would not make her feel any better. And Oliver Queen had enough things in this lifetime and the next to feel guilty about. He didn’t need her adding to that pile of misery.
Russia had been a blessing in disguise. Her inappropriate dreams had just started to take shape when Oliver’s one night stand had delivered a blow more powerful than any lecture she could have given herself. The thought was like a bucket of cold water thrown to her face. Oliver didn’t see her that way. Sure, he liked her and she would bet her entire Doctor Who tea set that he respected her but it wasn’t the same. Still, the fact that he slept with that woman of all the women in the world, the one that tormented her and spread vile rumours in QC, rumours he had no idea about by the way, was a low blow.
“So,” she said with a forced lightness she didn’t feel, “I’m in trouble.”
“What’s wrong?” He took a menacing step forward as if there was an invisible enemy he would have to fight.
“Calm down, big guy!” Felicity rolled her eyes, then blushed a bright red. “I didn’t mean big like big down there,” her gaze dropped towards his cargo pants without meaning to, “even though I’m sure that your penis must be at least average-sized considering the size of your-”
Oliver grabbed her shoulders before she could go on.
“Oh my God,” she squeaked and fell on his chest, “someone kill me now. Where is the damn league of assassins when you need them? Call Sara! I could use an assassin right about now.” She kept mumbling even though the sound was muffled because she was way too embarrassed to stop and apparently her brain to mouth filter was permanently broken.
Oliver’s hand was stroking her back softly, gentling her as he always did whenever she said something mortifying. He didn’t seem to mind that he was more often than not the focus of her inappropriate babbling. Most of the time he found it amusing and he never hesitated her to hold her. At least, he had never hesitated before Russia. These days they were overly polite and kept making sure no hands or arms or legs were ever close enough to touch. It brought tears to her eyes.
“Hey,” he breathed.
Felicity looked up at him biting her lip. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.”
She took a deep breath, inhaling soap, leather and something that was pure Oliver and stepped back. He let her go but one hand lingered on her shoulder.
“So,” she pointed to the device on her workstation to shake some of the awkwardness, “I have a friend from college. The only one I’m still in contact with and every year we place a bet. We find a gadget, something that is not accessible to the public yet and we send it to each other. This year it was her turn and this thing is driving me crazy. I know it might seem silly to you but I can’t lose, I just can’t.”
“What happens if you lose?”
She loved the fact that even though he was a tough, scary vigilante he never mocked her concerns or laughed at her.
“I have to wear a Christmas headband. A red one. With reindeer antlers.” She shuddered at the thought. “And I don’t know if I told you but-”
“You’re Jewish.”
“Yeah, which makes it even worse somehow. Anyway,” she stopped abruptly and stared at him in surprise. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything about you, Felicity.”
Cursing herself for her inability to control the flush that spread on her face, she harrumphed and picked up the watch that wasn’t a watch.
“Wanna help me figure out this thing?”
It was an olive branch and he knew it so he smiled and stepped closer. Felicity wanted to giggle at the thought that Oliver Queen, the man who couldn’t figure out the apps on his brand new iPhone would be able to help her in this case. It would be akin to her trying next Wednesday to shoot the bad guy with a bow and arrow.
“Why are you laughing?”
“No reason. I just remembered something.”
“Huh,” he replied frowning and turning the device upside down.
“Careful with that. I don’t know what it does and I don’t think that Martina would ever purposely send anything dangerous but still…”
“This was made by Kord Industries.”
Felicity grabbed the watch and lifted it closer. “How do you know? The Kord Industries logo is distinctive and I don’t see it here.”
He took her finger and stroked the metal. “Do you feel the carving? It’s a beetle. That’s Ted’s idea of a joke.”
“I don’t get it.” Felicity didn’t like the things she didn’t understand. Mysteries needed to be solved.
Oliver ignored the question in her eyes. “Guess who owes me a favor?”
“Mr. Kord himself?”
He nodded and smiled like a kid at Disney store. His eyes were filled with excitement and something else. Pure pleasure. Solving this small mystery together, working as partners was important to him. Perhaps, more important than she had realized. For a moment, she could see the child he once was, mischievous and happy, causing trouble along with his best friend Tommy. It was so rare for the Oliver that she knew to show any kind of enthusiasm that she felt a painful pang in her heart. So, even though things were still complicated and she was by no means ready to forgive and forget, Felicity knew in her bones that they would get past this. One day.
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Your Fave MIGHT Be Catholic: Tommy Wiseau
Known for: Director, screenwriter, producer, & actor, he is best known for being the creative mastermind behind The Room, a film that is considered one of the worst films ever made & is often cited as the “Citizen Kane of terrible films”. Despite this, it became a huge cult phenomenon, & people to this day still go out & see screenings of it for the sheer joy of the experience, & thus helped to establish him as a big name in the film & internet community. Very little is known about Tommy Wiseau, but what is known is that in the late 90s, he attempted a career as a stage actor & met his friend Greg Sestero during this, he’s extremely patriotic & loves America (despite his thick accent making it clear he’s not really American), he really hates flatulence, he is extremely wealthy & fully produced everything involved with the creation of The Room, & ever since the film’s release he continues to screen it & sell merchandise off of it, thinking the film is a masterpiece. He has done other projects as well, including a television sitcom called The Neighbors, as well as another film called Best F(r)iends, & occasionally makes appearances on television & in internet videos. But other than that, there is still very little known about him. Most of the information we get from him comes from Greg Sestero’s memoir The Disaster Artist, as well as the film adaptation made by James Franco.
Why I say MIGHT as opposed to IS: Do you recall when it was mentioned earlier that very little is known about Tommy? Well, that was no exaggeration: Tommy Wiseau is one of the most mysterious human beings on the planet! Nobody knows things like how old he is, where he originally came from, where he got his immense wealth, & things like that. This is mainly because Tommy is very secretive about himself & his life, & often lies about himself to create his own ideal version of reality (example: claiming he’s American, despite his thick accent indicating he’s really from somewhere in Europe). Included in all of this are his religious beliefs, or if he even has any. There are a few hints that suggest Tommy is Catholic, or at the very least a religious person. One is that, whatever his true European origins are, it’s very likely he comes from a very Catholic nation, with most people theorizing France. Greg Sestero’s book The Disaster Artist also occasionally sprinkles in hints of Tommy’s religiousness, with him occasionally mentioning God at times. Lastly, a line from The Room itself indicates Tommy’s religiousness: “God, forgive me!” But all this said, there’s no concrete evidence out there that Tommy is Catholic, just possible hints. But given how mysterious Tommy is, if someone were to tell me that Tommy could possibly be Jewish, I wouldn’t have difficulty believing that either!
If this post is wrong: If this post is wrong, & there is a reliable source out there that states Tommy practices a different religion, please politely let me know & I will change this. Granted, this might be an impossible task given how mysterious Tommy is, but if you still come across something, please inform me.
2/7/20 Update: So, it seems that this is another entry that turns out to be correct! According to a 2017 interview on The Howard Stern Show alongside James Franco, Tommy himself actually states that he is indeed Catholic, & that he also speaks very fluent French. Thus, we can now confirm that Tommy Wiseau IS indeed Catholic!
#Catholic#celebrity#director#Tommy Wiseau#might#might be#screenwriter#actor#producer#film#movie#The Room#mysterious#unknown#internet videos#The Disaster Artist
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If you are Jewish or any familiar with the coming festivities. Would you tell me why in Atonement Day they hide in their houses or temples? I know they pray and ask forgiveness? I've worked for two Jewish for ten years, they've been assholes to me, members of my family, and other employees who left the job because of their verbal and borderline physical abuse. Yet on Atonement day I think they should apologize to the faces of those they've wronged. I may be interpreting the holiday wrong, I know
This sounds like a very frustrating and upsetting topic for you and your family. I am sorry that your brother faced a difficult time in your previous job. Though I don’t know the details of what happened, I truly do feel sorry that he had to go through a very rough time at work. I don’t know if I can provide you an answer to your satisfaction. I don’t even know if I can provide an answer to my satisfaction. But I’ll attempt to do so. Putting under a cut as it is long.
For one, I will explain my family’s interpretation on Yom Kippur and try to answer your first question. Yom Kippur is seen as a day of atonement, a day where we ask forgiveness of those we have wronged. There you stand correct. During the holiday, those who are more religious will likely go to Synagogue for part or a majority of the day and pray. The service is very important and holy, not to be taken lightly, as this holiday is a high holiday. For those (like my family) who ‘hide in their houses’, there’s a number of reasons as to why. For one, we are fasting for 26 hours. We are not allowed to work, spend money, or use electricity. Sort of like Shabbat but to the extreme. During Yom Kippur, I am often weak and tired. The most I will leave my house to do is to take a walk and kill time. I cannot use a car, and even if I could, where would I go? Generally, this holiday is a time for me to step away from the world for a day. I read a few books. I play Monopoly with my family. For us, it works.
I apologize for the way you and your family have been treated by your bosses. I do not have an explanation for their behavior. However, I will point out that they are not ‘required’ to ask forgiveness of anyone if they choose not to. Some Jews do not keep kosher. Some get tattoos, and some do not observe high holidays. If they do not observe Yom Kippur, then they probably will not be asking forgiveness of anyone. Additionally, I will note that not every person will literally go and ‘ask forgiveness’ of someone. I don’t go to my friends before the holiday and say ‘hey I know I wronged you when I did xxx, can you forgive me?’ Generally, I ask forgiveness of my family and will then say a couple of personal prayers for the general public. So, that could potentially be going on with your bosses as well.
Again, I’m sorry for what you and your family have gone through. It sounds extremely difficult. But it’s incredibly important to remember that these two people do not speak for the Jewish population. Their actions are not our actions. Just as Jeff Bezos is probably not a good example of a Christian, these two bosses do not seem to be a good example of a Jew. To me, this sounds more like a case that these specific people are assholes. Whether they are Jewish or not probably has very little to do with it.
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[[ lyndsy fonseca, cisfemale, she/her ]] EKATERINA ‘ERICA’ MARKOVY-WRIGHT just walked into the club, the 31 year old HEIRESS has been a member since MARCH 2014. i heard they’re pretty DETERMINED & HARD-WORKING, but can also be a little MANIPULATIVE & COLD. rumor has it, they’re DEMI-PLATONI-PANROMANTIC/PLATONI-PANSEXUAL and also love BONDAGE/SHIBARI, IMPACT PLAY & SENSORY PLAY, but are turned off by BODILY FLUIDS, FEET & VORE.
**hi all, i’m jack and i’m super excited to join bliss and get back into roleplay again-- also please forgive my rambling and i’m so sorry it’s taken forever for me to get an intro up; i was knocked out with anaesthetic on monday so i’m a little goofy, tired and sore. i really hope y’all like erica though, she’s one of my most precious projects and i’ve been playing her for about seven to eight years. i’ll probably add to this as i go, too!
-- erica’s the eldest of four siblings at 31 to their parents, mikhail markovy and isabelle wright, and is currently in line as heir to her mother’s very successful clothing line, and receives some royalties from her father’s very well-received book series.
-- erica has always been the kind of person to work extremely hard, either to prove herself or to prove to others that she’s worth the air she breathes. having been born in new york, and moving out to los angeles of her own volition, she found that while she enjoyed the hustle and bustle of new york, and la for that matter, she found it extremely hard to live independently while living so close to her mother. even as she grew into adulthood, she found she was still treated like a child, and for someone as headstrong as erica, she found it extremely difficult to live a normal life while constantly butting heads with isabelle.
-- before she moved, however, she attended college in new york for law; a last ditch effort to gain independence. unfortunately it didn’t work in the way she’d been hoping, and she soon realised that despite scoring rather high within the course, she didn’t have the drive, fire nor the interest in becoming a lawyer in any field. with no real destination in mind and no goal to strive for, erica moved out west, at first landing in washington before eventually moving south to los angeles, making the city her new home.
-- currently, erica is doing her best to support her lavish lifestyle by performing odd jobs here and there (at least, ones that she’s qualified to do). with that in mind, her father, mikhail, has been taking as much money from his account, that he’s sure isabelle won’t notice, to send to his daughter in order to keep her fed and watered. unfortunately, he has foolishly trusted his eldest daughter to spend it in the right places without truly checking in on her and asking her where it’s all been going-- his wishes for how it might be used may happen... or they may not.
-- being a regular at club bliss does mean that quite a bit of the money goes toward drinks and drugs, dancers and escorts at bliss when erica feels as though there is a lull in excitement in her life, which is far more often than she would like to admit. so, no, she may not be using the cash in the smartest way possible (even she knows that) and with her preference for the finer things in life, it can disappear much faster than she realises.
-- one more important quality to note about erica is the fact that no matter what her younger siblings do, wrong or right, she can’t help but love them unconditionally. she’d protect and follow them to the ends of the earth in order to keep them safe-- really, there isn’t a thing she wouldn’t do for her siblings.
-- just a few more quick facts: her full name is ekaterina ‘erica’ leanne aliena markovy-wright; a fair mix between her father and mother’s names, and she vehemently demands that others call her erica as it is easier to remember, and simpler to pronounce. she is of jewish-american and russian descent, from her mother and father respectively. she can speak english, russian, yiddish, hebrew, italian and french. thanks to her mother’s determination (which was passed down to her), ekaterina will work at something, even a menial or useless skill in order to become better at it, regardless of whether or not it will get her further in life.
-- she’s panromantic and pansexual, as well as polyamorous and demiromantic. she also tends to develop feelings for people she may be friendly with, which has led her to identify as platoniromantic/platonisexual. erica’s not entirely sure if it fits, but until she can unearth a more appropriate term, this is the one she’s sticking with.
-- she’s quite slim, and very athletic, attending the gym as often as she can to keep herself in the best shape possible. her height, however-- she’s not entirely sure where she got these genes (both her parents are quite tall), but she’s by far the shortest in the family-- barely managing to hit 5′4″ on a good day. she’s also lost the genetic lottery when it comes to her eyesight, stuck with rather severe shortsightedness, and astigmatisms in both eyes. she chooses to wear contacts instead of glasses to minimise the attention brought to this particular physical ‘handicap’.
-- regarding the type of people she’s into, as long as she can hold an intelligent conversation, they’re physically attractive, tend to find more intense aspects of bdsm to their liking, and don’t show interest in erica simply because of her money or her last name, there’s a high chance that her curiosity will spike upward. if she is simply looking for a quick shag, then it truly does not matter-- but she has her favourites, several regular escorts that she’ll approach with an agreement she’ll have set up long before that point in time.
personality traits: sadistic, manipulative, diligent, hot-tempered, dutiful, adaptable, determined, witty, intelligent, agile, impulsive, hedonistic.
possible connections: honestly, anything and everything! i’m up for past lovers, enemies and rivals, best friends, and everything in between. if you have an idea for a connection erica might fit, just shoot me an im on discord or here and we can sort out details!
#brps.intro#♛ [ ** 𝘰𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 ⁎⁎ ] INTRO#♛ [ ** 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 ⁎⁎ ] EKATERINA#♛ [ ** 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 ⁎⁎ ] ERICA
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Say A Little Prayer || Para
WHO: Benji Karofsky (@benjikarofsky) and Topher Pierce (@topherxpierce). Mentions Franco Del Rio ( @southsidefranco )
WHERE: The NS Synagogue
WHEN: 11th May 2019
NOTES: In need of his best friend (and some holy guidance), Benji invites Topher to the Synagogue to discuss his new engagement with Franco--leading both boys to finally come clean.
TRIGGERS: Religious themes; ‘blink-and-you’ll-miss-it’ mentions of the following: (non-explicit) self-harm, drug abuse/benders
BOLD: Benji
ITALIC: Topher
WORD COUNT: 1946
"Humor me and wear this while we're inside, okay?" Benji whispered, jutting a kippah, much like his own, out to Topher as he pushed open the doors and walked the two inside. He walked slowly up the aisle to the front of the house of worship and knelt down, his hands in his lap. "...Franco asked me to marry him," he whispered, his voice tired from all the worry. "...I was so worried he'd run off and start using again that I said yes. And now I can't get out of it because then he'll really start using again."
He swallowed hard, finally turning to look at his best friend, tears forming in his eyes. "...I don't want to marry Franc. I can't marry Franc. ...Not while I still lov--" he stopped short and dropped his head to his chest, starting to cry.
It took a few moments, but Topher eventually remembered the kippah's proper placement as he followed Benji's lead. But the moment he caught up with his best friend, none of the possibilities that dashed through his mind could have prepared him for the truth. He aimed to carefully rest a hand on Benji's shoulder as his attention switched to considering potential solutions. "I would say that it's a sticky situation, but that would be an understatement," he remarked under his breath.
"But listen to me when I say that this isn't impossible, okay? You and I, when we put our minds together, we're capable of fantastic things," the former Serpent stated. "We could get somebody to object. It would be a last minute rescue type of deal, but it could work," he added when something else dawned on him. "Wait a minute, you're in love with someone else?"
"Jewish weddings don't work like that. That's a Christian thing..." he whispered, wiping his eyes; he refused to look up. He couldn't bare the image of Topher's face right now, but, more importantly, he couldn't bare the idea of looking around the house of worship knowing that he'd be getting married to Franc here soon. Officially giving his life away to one person while he still deeply loved another... it felt like blasphemy. He couldn't do this to himself. His faith and his connection with YHWH felt like the only thing he hadn't sacrificed somehow at this point. He needed to keep it whole.
"I am..." Benji whispered, still staring at his hands. He couldn't lie anymore--not here. "I love Franco. I really, really do. But... I love this other person too. And I've loved them for so long. And... I don't know if you can love two people at once. Maybe there's something wrong with me, I don't know. But... until I clear my conscience, I can't marry Franc." He swallowed. "If I could get this other guy out my head, I could at least not feel as guilty about marrying Franc, but... I don't think he's leaving my mind anytime soon."
Topher gave a light hum as he filed away the fact about objections then focused on Benji once again. "Personally, I don't think it's too wild or wrong at all to be polyamorous. Also known as loving two or more people at once. But disclaimer once again, those are just my opinions," he rattled off as his free hand fiddled with the makeshift necklace that his apartment key was part of.
Another few moments of quiet consideration passed as he glanced around the synagogue, as if hoping all the potential solutions to this obnoxiously difficult situation would reveal themselves here. "Then I would be upfront with both parties about it. Both whoever you're in love with and Franco. The former first then the latter," Topher evenly answered. Then his mind started to drift and focus on his wandering thoughts instead, secret hopes among them. It took a split second for him to snap back to reality. "I'll be right by your side if you want. But just out of curiosity and so there are no surprises, who are you in love with? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"...You," Benji replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
"The day we met at ePlay. I had never had someone almost beat me in DDR before. By the time we became friends, I had already fallen in love with you." He sniffled, feeling a few tears fall and land on the floor below them. "Seven years. I've been trying to get you out of my mind for seven years, and I just couldn't do it. I... I can't do it. And I'm sorry."
That very statement sent shockwaves directly to Topher's heart. It was a sensation that he never grew used to. How could anybody get used to it? But he remained next to Benji because this was where he needed to be and honestly, he wouldn't dream of leaving anyone's side in a similar situation. Regardless of whatever bombshell they'd just dropped.
"You have nothing to apologize for," the former Serpent managed in a quiet tone. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you. Because I haven't been able to get you out of my mind recently and all I could bring myself to do was deny it," he added then closed his eyes for a beat or two. "It's honestly hilarious how I managed to get away with asking you for advice. Maybe I should see if there are any openings in the espionage job sector."
Benji looked up, wiping away the tears in his eyes as he did. "You... you mean the guy you were talking about the other day? You... you were talking about romantic feelings? ...And you were talking about me?" He sniffled, turning so he could face his friend better. "Really?"
It took all of Topher's inner strength to not lie and deny, to instead nod as his gaze flicked to the floor. Anything and everything he wanted to say immediately died in his throat as he worried his bottom lip. He couldn't believe that he'd just admitted this out loud despite all of the built up worries related to what could go wrong. The 18 year old drew in a shaky breath as he nodded once again in confirmation even though every fiber of his body practically screeched at him to do the opposite.
Benji smiled shakily and held out his hand for Topher to take; even though he had dreamed for years for this one day, he couldn't cheat on Franco by giving Topher a kiss--especially not in a place of worship. "...All this time hiding from each other and we've been thinking similar things." He gave an exhausted laugh, his body shaking again. "...What do we do now?"
A few chuckles escaped before Topher had the chance to stop himself then carefully took Benji's offered hand. "The universe works in mysterious ways sometimes," he stated as he finally glanced up at the other once again. "I may have an idea or two about how to handle this. Both are kind of a doozy if I'm being honest though, so you better prepare yourself mentally."
Benji stared at Topher, his eyes a great tell of how emotionally exhausted he was. "...After the week I've had, I don't think there's anything that's too much of a 'doozy' for me, Toph," he admitted. "If it's something that'll allow me to keep both of you happy, healthy, and sober, I'm willing to hear it."
"Idea one is that we approach Franco and basically tell him how you feel. Just go in there and tell him the truth," Topher replied. He worried his bottom lip just a hint more as he considered how best to phrase idea two. "Then the second one would require us telling him anyway, but if he turns it down or whatever, we offer to continue assisting him on the road to recovery yet also put in the request to postpone the wedding indefinitely slash cancel it while the three of us figure out what course of action to take next."
Benji let go of Topher's hand and looked back down, trying to process what his best friend had suggested. "...I can't tell him the truth, Toph," he whispered, wiping away the last of his tears. "If I tell him the truth and he runs off and gets high, I'd never forgive myself. ...Or, HaShem, what if he did something even more stupid like try to hurt himself? I wouldn't be able to take it."
He swallowed hard, looking back up. "You should've seen the way he looked at me. The way he looked at the ring. He was in the middle of a rampage at the time--he had literally thrown over my dresser. But then he saw the ring and just... stopped. Like it was the only thing keeping him even the smallest bit sane... I can't tell him the truth, Toph. It'd break him, and I can't live with that."
Topher's now free hand went back to messing with the key as he considered everything that Benji had just told him. "I'd feel the same way if I were in your shoes. But let me take care of the most difficult parts, okay? Name them and all of those problems will be swept away faster than you can blink," he responded.
"People will lock on to whoever or whatever they can in times of severe stress, but that could just be my experience. I've certainly locked onto you and my family in the past then I haven't been able to put my guitar or a controller down recently because of the mental olympics that is denial. Maybe we need to help Franco find something more positive to lock onto."
Benji bit his lip, taking a moment to think. "I... I can't tell him right now. Not until I know this isn't gonna end in him relapsing. Promise me that you won't tell him or anyone else that I don't want this. You're the only person who knows, and if it gets back to Franc, I'm never gonna forgive you." He took a shaky breath.
"But... maybe we can work on the second part of the plan for now. Let's find him something else to lock on to. Something that doesn't involve me. And... then we can thin about what else to do after that." He sniffled, trying to keep new tears from falling; he just couldn't believe he has gotten himself into another mess like this. "Deal?"
"My lips are eternally zipped unless you give me permission to say something," Topher answered as he placed his hand over his heart. "Swear on my dad's grave." He then nodded at the prospect of working on the plan's second part and almost immediately got a jump start on it when he remembered who he was with.
"C'mere and let me give you a hug. I think we could both use it after all this emotional drama," the 18 year old remarked then lightly tapped Benji's shoulder. "Unless you say the word, then I'm not leaving your side anytime soon, alright? You've been there for me countless times. Only fair and right that I return the favor."
Benji nodded and stood up, hugging Topher with all his might. "I'm sorry you're an accessory in all this... I love you..." he whispered, not caring if Topher knew anymore.
"It's alright Benji," Topher whispered as he returned the hug. "I love you too and wherever you go, I'll follow. Whatever decision you make, I'll support. As long as I can count on you, then you can count on me too."
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End of the Line
Characters: Prussia, Germany, Austria, Britain, France, Russia
Summary: It's been two years since the end of World War Two. The final sentencing by the Allies has come. Germany, Prussia, and Austria have all right to fear what might be coming for them.
1947 - Geneva, Switzerland There was a silence among the three nations sitting in the frigid hallway. Germany, Prussia, and Austria didn't dare speak a word to each other for the longest time. Tension crackled amongst the three men. None of them knew what to say, what would be appropriate in their situation. Austria and Prussia remained silent to withhold their blame. Germany remained silent out of fear until the panic and anxiety of not knowing overtook. A rush of words began to pour from his lips. "Why aren't Italy and Japan here?" The German man asked frantically. He rose and began pacing. The heel of his shoes made a clip that echoed throughout. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and widened from terror. He was shaking uncontrollably and his movements were erratic instead of his usual precise ones. "America and China should be punishing Japan. I shouldn't be alone here."
Austria sighed. "Italy has already received his and we've heard no word from the East yet." He looked down at the ground. "We're all war criminals." "Well, two of us aren't. Two of us got dragged in for the ride." Prussia grumbled under his breath. Roderich was the only one to catch the comment and glared at his cousin. Gilbert got the cue and went back to being quiet as Germany continued to ramble on. Five minutes later, a petite Englishwoman opened the door and led them into the chamber. Canada, China, Russia, England, America, and France all sat in a semicircle at the head of the room. None of them showed any expression, except for America who gave them a polite, yet very restrained, smile. The three nations on trial sat at the chairs and table before their prosecutors. Prussia leaned back and exhaled sharply through his nose. "Can we cut to the chase? All three of us are aware of how shitty we are. Just deal it out to us." England smiled with deeply refrained anger at his long ago ally. "As you wish, Mr. Beilschmidt." France took the lead. "We were originally going to go with Austria first, but due to a last minute change of plans, Gilbert-" "Only my friends call me Gilbert." The Prussian cast Francis a dirty look as he spoke. The betrayal he had felt a century before due to Holy Rome being slaughtered at the Frenchman's hands still stung. Even when they had been allies, Prussia refused to call him a true friend. That was what Spain was for. And now, now that someone who was supposed to be his friend was treating him like a criminal? Convicting him of crimes he was forced to be complacent with as a result of his brother? No, they would never again be friends. "And, I want to state that I'm a victim in this. That this is no longer my nation to control. It's called Germany. Not Prussia, Germany. Two very distinct things. Anyway, so what hell am I being subjected to? Gotta give Konigsberg to Poland? Least I can do. The guy deserves it. It makes a lot of geographical sense anyway." France's face turned white. He looked away from Prussia and instead at the Briton besides him. "Non, I can't. I didn't want to be the one to do this. I understand the necessity, but I can't." He barely looked at the Prussian before him. "Prussia, please, forgive me." Gilbert cocked an eyebrow. "It's not even that big of a deal. Ja, there was a lot of history attached, but I'll get over it. I'll come and visit it every now and then for old times sake." He finally realized the looks of mockery and pity he was getting. Bile came rushing up into his mouth. He forced himself to swallow. "I get the feeling I'm wrong." Arthur grinned. To demolish the nation that had enabled the one to set his heart in flames? It would be one of his last great pleasures as the untouchable empire. Prussia's time had finally come. They'd partition him worse than Poland. "We, the Allied Forces of World War Two, find it necessary to dissolve the Free State of Prussia. Your lands will be divided up between Germany, Poland, Russia, and whomever else we find you've wronged. Your name will change accordingly to each place, but will not remain apart of you." He licked his lips. "I must admit, it will be interesting to see a nation die considering none of us are aware of what exactly happened to our ancestors. I barely remember how Mother went. Yours will be an interesting case study." Prussia's face turned paler than normal. His heart dropped into his stomach. "Nein. Nein! You can't do this! I had nothing to do with the start of the war! My people revolted against Hitler!" Tears were brimming in his eyes. He jumped over the table and rushed towards his prosecutors. "There's no standing for this!" America looked away. "Dude, don't make this worse than it has to be. I doubt you're really gonna die." This enraged him. "You arschloch! I've seen my bruders, my vader, everyone I'm related to die over the years! And you dare tell me being dissolved isn't a big deal? That I'm blowing this out of proportion? I. Did. Nothing! I fought in plenty wars, ja, but so did all of you! We've all spilt each other’s blood!" He frantically looked at each face, trying to find someone he could plead to. He found that person in Russia. Prussia fell to his knees before Ivan. Tears were flowing freely now down his face. "Please. Ivan, Russia. We were allies. We've been allies for so many years. We fought together and won. I know unification hurt that, but you and your boss can't forget the past. Please. Please don't let me die." Russia felt his heart wrench. While he was no fan of the snake in the grass Ludwig had turned out to be, Gilbert was another story. They had fought excellently together. They had won so often and shared many good memories. Did they have their wars? Of course, but that's how Europe was. He wouldn't punish him for that. "Stalin didn't...I didn't want this. We wanted to at least retain the name. I'm sorry, Prussia. I'm not the one who needs to hear this." He then looked at the other nations. "I need a drink." He somberly escaped into the chamber where the allies had come from. France turned around in his chair. "Mon ami, this is for the best. You were a very militaristic region. Always fighting and invading, never playing by the rules or respecting the balance of power. Non, it wasn't good. If we divide you up and separate you from your brother, he should be able to grow and mature without your warmongering instincts. This all could've been avoided if you put down the sword and put on the toga like the rest of us." A chill ran down the Prussian's spine. He couldn't believe this. He didn't want to believe this. "Look at yourself! Look at England, Spain, the Netherlands! I did not go to the New World to start wars that carried over into Europe! I begged none of you for help against my enemies! I stood tall, strong, and powerful! If anyone's militaristic in this room, it's the one with the fucking empire that's ready to collapse! You and Arthur are the biggest hypocrites I've ever met! What makes it worse is getting your two former colonies, a nation you've fucked over so much just for trade, and a Russian who's only on your side because we betrayed him to agree to this!" He turned to walk towards the door, but the anger he felt couldn't be held back. He whipped around and faced them all once more. "I didn't want this war. My nation, my free state or whatever bullshit it became, had a significant amount of people that revolted against Hitler. My government - my true government, not Hitler’s fucking puppets - wanted to prevent the outbreak of this." He looked at Germany. "Did you ever step foot in those places?" Germany shook his head. Prussia continued. "Not surprised. Well I did because I had to stay in line. I had to be constantly threatened. Fun fact: Edelstein. It's a German name, but it's also Jewish. I want you all to guess where Roderich would've gone. Doesn't matter that he's a nation, he would've been there. It's a good thing someone in the family picked up on the extreme antisemitism, realized their cousin would die repeatedly alongside his people, and changed his last name to Beilschmidt. Such a good thing one of us did. Ludwig? Was that you? Nein, of course not because I'm the one who did it, but I'm the one who wanted to get his last kick at being a superpower this way." Austria looked touched. "You did that? I would've thought...danke." Prussia didn't hear the Austrian over the sound of his ranting. "If anyone should be getting dissolved it's Germany. That's his boss! That's his boss and he's the one who should cease to exist because his birth was a mistake as far as I'm concerned!" He glared at his brother. Hatred suddenly filled him. "You...you were the mistake! Ostmark should've started you! I regret Bismark and I regret your birth! Nationalism poisoned your birth, it poisoned your heart, and it slaughtered millions! You're the reason all this shieße has happened to me! If we really wanted to protect ourselves, we’d abolish you!" There was a deathly silence. The gravity of what had been said hit hard. Germany looked broken. His gazed at his hands and a few stray tears went down his cheek. Gilbert's eyes widened. "I didn't mean it like that. I’m blowing off steam. Ludwig, please. I didn’t mean all that." It was a minute before the German stood. Ludwig rose on shaky legs and looked straight at the men who held his fate in their hands. "Ja, he's right. Everyone's been right. I don't deserve any mercy. I don't deserve any forgiveness or empathy or respect. This isn't the first war, this isn't where we all made mistakes. The blame winds up on me and the people I represent. You all say you wish to do the right thing, to clean the slate once and for all." He glanced at his older brother and sighed. "Don't punish him. The right thing is to dissolve Deutchland." Tears once again fell down his face and he collapsed in his chair. "Please, dissolve me! My life is the one that should be traded for all the millions lost! I stood beside evil incarnate, I supported it, I was proud of it until so recently! Dissolve me! Dissolve me, let a better nation take my place." Francis shrugged. "Getting rid of the German sounds good to me." He glared down his nose at Germany. "You've been a menace since you were a small child." Russia had walked back in sometime ago and was back in his seat, vodka glass in hand. "Da, there's no reason. He's done nothing for us." He chuckled softly. "Or for me. He has never kept a promise. Then again, keep your enemies closer." Discussion broke out amongst them. Arthur rolled his eyes. This was much longer than he had wanted it to be. He banged his gavel. "Morons, you're forgetting the plan! Germany, you're going to be split into East and West. The West will be overlooked and controlled by America, France, and I. The East is Russia's problem. As far as I'm concerned, you're not really going to exist." He turned his attention back to Gilbert, who was still fuming. "Mr. Beilschmidt, did you not fight in the war?" "Ja, I fought. I had to. I also owned his stupid book because it was illegal not to. Look at me! I'm an albino, I'm a freak! I'm hardly Aryan! I had to do everything I could so I wouldn't wind up like what that monster ordered on Poland or Belgium or Hungary!" "Did you oversee generals who committed acts of torture?" "This is crossing a line! You're doing this purely for-" "Did you not help kill innocent people?" "-a power trip to show your authority in-" "Do you not deserve to pay for your crimes?" This silenced the Prussian. His eyes were burning holes into the ground. Eventually he looked up. His cheeks were tear stained. "You forget that we can't disobey. We've all committed atrocities we hadn't wanted, that we look back on with disgust. The Trail of Tears, the slave trade, the Romanovs. Who among us doesn't deserve to pay for what they've done as a nation? Who here is truly innocent? You're punishing me for wanting to be strong. We all wanted to be strong! But I'm somehow the worst for it?" "Answer the question, Gilbert." Prussia closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. There was no escape. "I deserve to pay." Arthur reclined in his chair. A smug grin danced across his lips. "Then, like all the other Nazis, you will. Your country is dissolved. Ludwig, your war reparations will be billed to you. Austria, no reparations will be paid to you, but we see you not at fault. Again, Russia, America, France, and I will see to the running of your respective governments. This meeting is adjured." The Allies left, leaving the three men alone together. Ludwig took a cautious step towards his older brother. He reached out a hand towards him. "I'll see what I can do. I'll try and transfer power. Gilbert, I can't do this without you. I don't know what I'm doing." He sounded so small, so like a child. Prussia stared back and forth between his brother and his cousin. He could always feel how distant he was from them, but now it felt like there was an uncrossable ocean. "Nein. You got rid of me first with Versailles then with the lawsuit. I’m sorry, Germany, but you're on your own now." He patted Germany on the shoulder and walked out of the courthouse. Soon he found himself sprinting, trying to get away from it as fast as he could. As he ran, the meeting played over and over again in a loop. He couldn't get the words out of his head or the emptiness in his soul to dissipate. Finally, he stopped. What good would running do? He couldn't turn back time. He had to accept fate. Gilbert slumped down on the ground, hugging his knees. He wished to be a Teutonic Knight again, he wished to be young and free. He wished to be anywhere but here. It took twenty minutes for someone to catch up to him. The sound of labored breathing is what snapped Prussia out of his self pity. He saw Austria, of all people, standing behind him. The Austrian was hunched over with his hands on his knees, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Instinctive hostility took over. "What do you want?" Gilbert hissed. The last thing he wanted to see was another nation. Especially one of his kin. The be-speckled man remained silent. He took off his suit jacket and laid it on the grass before sitting on it. Roderich stared for a long time at Prussia before suddenly hugging him. Tears ran down his cheeks and wet Gilbert's shoulder. "Danke. Danke." Those were the only words that could escape his lips. Prussia held onto his cousin. Instead of being annoyed like he normally would, he appreciated this. He was thankful that someone realized he had done at least one good thing over the past decade. When the Austrian had composed himself enough to say more than one word, he pulled away. His violet eyes still glistened with water and his cheeks were stained. "Ludwig went back to the house to pack for me since I'm allowed to return to Vienna as soon as I please." Gilbert huffed and turned his attention away. Austria smiled slightly, relieved to receive the response he expected. "I didn't think you cared, but I thought I should tell you. I'll be home by sundown tomorrow." Gilbert laughed without humor. "Nothing like having a home." The two didn't exchange words for awhile. Instead, they watched the cars and people go by on the streets of the city. This was the most time they had spent together in peace in centuries. "Why? Why did you do it? I saw those places too and...danke. I couldn't have...Elizavèta would've been..." Prussia shrugged. "Believe it or not, I'm a decent fucking person." He ran a hand through his hair, freeing it from the professional style he had worn for their day in court. "I've been around you the majority of my life. We've fought against each other, had good times together, went after the same girls. Same territories too. Don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean I like you." Austria laughed. "I don't like you either." "Good. I don't want you or your pity especially now." He looked at the Austrian. "Roddy, I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. That's my job. Verdammt, you were such a mess after the divorce with Lizzie that I almost wanted to kick her ass. It's my job and my job only to make your life miserable. No one can ever replace me there." Some more silence passed between them before Roderich would speak again. "Now that you're dead, what are you going to do with your life?" The Prussian flashed his trademark smirk. He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back on the grass. So many answers, but he wanted the perfect one. When it came, he laughed. "I'm going to live."
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Not a fan -- Galatians 3:1-9, 23-29 -- May 16, 2021 -- Seventh Sunday of Easter
One of my favorite episodes of The Twilight Zone is the season four episode “Jess-Belle.” The main reason I enjoy it is because it stars James Best—many of you will remember him for his more famous role as Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane on The Dukes of Hazzard. But the episode has some other endearing qualities as well.
The plot focuses on the upcoming marriage of Best’s character, Billy-Ben Turner, to a young woman named Ellwyn Glover. The conflict comes as Billy-Ben’s ex-girlfriend Jess-Belle plots to sabotage the wedding and win Billy-Ben back. Jess-Belle visits a local witch named Granny Hart, who casts a spell that bewitches Billy-Ben, causing him to forget Ellwyn and fall madly in love with Jess-Belle.
This is exactly what happens at a square dance thrown in honor of Billy-Ben and Ellwyn: Jess-Belle shows up and locks eyes with Billy-Ben who immediately forgets everything and dances off into the night with Jess-Belle, leaving Ellwyn and everyone else in utter disbelief about his behavior. But Billy-Ben can’t help himself; he has been bewitched, pulled away into a one relationship that makes the other relationship impossible. It’s a situation where compromise is not possible.
The situation of Galatians 3
Paul’s purpose in writing to the churches of Galatia is to correct false teaching that has brought confusion into the churches. The reason the conflict is so significant is because it is a salvation issue: a false belief that calls into question how people are reconciled to God has been introduced into the churches. As I think back on disagreements I’ve encountered in ministry, very few (if any) have been of this type. That’s not to say they’ve been unimportant or that they shouldn’t be handled with great care. But sometimes we draw lines in the sand over issues that are really more about personal preferences on matters where there are several legitimate choices; or we get into arguments that are driven as much by the personality of the people involved as they are the issue; or we have trouble reconciling matters because we’re impatient, or we’re not willing to yield to one another.
But this is not the issue in Galatia, and the significance of the matter explains the very strong words Paul choses in verses 1 and 3:
You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you?...Are you so foolish?
Eugene Peterson translates the passage this way:
You crazy Galatians! Did someone put a hex on you? Have you taken leave of your senses? Something crazy has happened, for it’s obvious that you no longer have the crucified Jesus in clear focus in your lives. His sacrifice on the cross was certainly set before you clearly enough.
Let me put this question to you: How did your new life begin? Was it by working your heads off to please God? Or was it by responding to God’s Message to you? Are you going to continue this craziness? For only crazy people would think they could complete by their own efforts what has begun by God (Galatians 3:1-3, The Message).
Honestly, Paul’s words here read more like the kind of response you find on a Facebook post than in a sermon or Bible study—except here it is in the Bible. Paul’s urgency and intensity has to do with his commitment to the Gospel and his great love for these congregations.
As we have moved from Acts 15 into Galatians over these last several Sundays, we keep bumping into the struggle that the churches had over the role the Jewish tradition would play in their understanding of faith. It is simply the issue that the church of this generation had to work out. What is distant from our thinking is that there were two components to the Jewish religious tradition: a ceremonial aspect and a moral aspect.
The moral laws represented how the character of God would be displayed in their lives. One way that we honor God in our daily lives is through our behavior coming to reflect God’s character; we begin doing the kinds of things Jesus would do if he were in our place. This explains the reason why, for instance, Christians value life and have always been moved to alleviate suffering. I believe it’s why we should be concerned about the environment, because the earth is the Lord’s. It’s why we do things like offer forgiveness when others mistreat us.
These things are easy to talk about in general; they can be quite costly in practice. I heard a podcast recently where a now middle-aged man shared a painful story from his youth. One day when he was a young teenager, he and some of his friends were acting irresponsibly, and this man’s actions led directly to the death of his best friend. In working with the justice system, the friend’s parents declined to press charges. Their belief was that their son’s death was a tragic accident caused by young boys being stupid, and that one ruined life was enough. They did not believe that any good would come by inflicting that on another; mercy was more important than punishment. It was a remarkable story of forgiveness.
It is through this kind of living—where our behavior reflects God’s character—that people who do not know Jesus might begin to follow. Or, as Brennan Manning describes it from the opposite direction:
The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, walk out the door, and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.
Manning laments a loss of discipleship in churches that allows for a disconnect to exist between belief and behavior.
But this wasn’t exactly the issue the Galatian Christians faced. They were largely struggling with the ceremonial laws found in the Jewish faith; the kinds of things that Jesus transgressed all the time, like when he healed people on the Sabbath or when the disciples walked through grainfields and ate some of the grain, or when Jesus stopped by a well and asked a woman for a drink of water. What people in Galatia were in danger of getting wrong was thinking that adding these ceremonial laws to our lives is necessary for us to be good Christians. Practices that were supposed to be reminders of what we believe and ceremonies designed to shape our faith had become rigid rules to follow.
I have found that as someone grows in their love for Jesus then their desire to participate in the worship services and ceremonies of the church grows right along with it.
How natural it is for people who significantly understand our faith as being shaped by the Scripture to give Bibles to our young people, as we did today.
For people who understand how much our relationship with God is shaped by our having been forgiven and are serious about growing closer to Jesus by practicing forgiveness, then it makes so much sense to be drawn to Love Feast and to communion. Many of us value that worship service because of the tradition, but I want to encourage you to expand your thinking on that. If anyone understands how badly broken our relationships with God have really become, it ought to be Brethren. We don’t just practice the bread and cup, we practice spiritual examination to make sure we are right with God and one another, then we practice humility by washing feet.
When we are thinking correctly, we understand that the ceremonies do not save us, but they do shape us. John Chrysostom was a fourth century church leader who described the connection between ceremonies and faith in this way:
When [a ceremonial ordinance] is understood it produces spiritual joy and is celebrated gladly and in due season. It is read and treated only with a spiritual sweetness. Now every sacrament, once understood in this way, is applied either to the contemplation of truth or to good morals. The contemplation of truth is founded in the love of God alone, good morals in the love of God and the neighbor, and on these two precepts depend the whole Law and the Prophets.
This is what the Galatians were risking getting wrong, and it is why Paul is so angry. In a way, they were like Billy-Ben Turner in The Twilight Zone who had a magnificent relationship with his fiancée and the admiration and joy of his community for the love he shared with Ellwyn, but who instead became bewitched by an old, dead-end relationship that was lesser in so many ways. Some in Galatia wanted to take all of the Old Testament laws from Leviticus and hand them to new Christians after they had become baptized and say, “Here. You must do these things, too.”
The reason it is important to understand a proper relationship with Jesus is because it is the only path to what the church is to become, as described in Galatians 3:27-28:
As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.
When a church lives out a correct understanding of salvation, the inevitable result is becoming the church where distinctions that society places on us disappear. It’s not that we become blind; the Galatians would still know who was a Jew and was Greek; who was a slave and who was free; who was male and who was female. But they could begin valuing people and their gifts based on what Jesus had done in their lives, not on what their culture told them to think. They would be a visible demonstration of the Kingdom of God.
Can you imagine how different our world would be today if we had figured out “neither slave nor free” 400 years ago? Consider that in 1667 the Virginia General Assembly decided
It is enacted and declared by this Grand Assembly, and the authority thereof, that the conferring of baptism does not alter the condition of the person as to his bondage or freedom (Tisby, 25).
This was an important law because in England the tradition was that baptism did confer freedom.
Or what if we had affirmed the equality of women? I’m thankful that the Williamson Road Church of the Brethren asked the question that enabled the Annual Conference in 1958 to enable women’s ordination. This meant that women could take their place alongside women preachers in the New Testament like Junia and Priscilla and Tryphaena and Tryphosa and Phoebe and other women who were prominent leaders in the New Testament church.
Applying this to our own time
These verses in Galatians 3 are yet one more reminder of how God is always moving toward the reconciliation of all things, and how the ceremonial laws and worship traditions of our faith are means to the ends, not the ends themselves.
Something that will both challenge and bless us is that following Jesus in this way will cause us to move toward people and honor people that we otherwise might not; it will also require us to get out of the way and allow others to shine.
The good news is that the bewitching spell can be broken, sisters and brothers. Billy-Ben Turner wasn’t forever a prisoner to Jess-Belle’s spell. It was eventually broken and he and Ellwyn were married, as it should be. Our obedience to Jesus will make us “heirs according to the promise” of God.
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An Atheist obsessed with religion
For some reason and for as early as I can remember the idea of religion has fascinated me. I grew up in a secular Jewish home but there was no religion involved beyond my grandma’s stuffed cabbage or a good bagel with lox, lighting menorahs and the Seder meal. I questioned why friend’s had bar and bat mitzvah’s so much that made my parents send me to Hebrew school so I could see what it was all about. I liked learning Hebrew and hearing weird stories but it wasn’t for me. I just didn’t get the God part and I never looked back. So I knew I was an atheist and most of my friends were, even going through with Hebrew school. They were just doing what their parents had done and keeping that tradition. So I read more about religion through history books because it has never ceased to amaze me how some people just believe in it. I’ve always been most fascinated by Christianity and Catholicism in particular. I think I realized over time that it had a lot to do with the concept of Hell and all the institutions and ways the Catholic Church created to keep you fearing it and also needing them as a intermediary to your salvation.
At some point I learned you could ‘sell your soul to the Devil” and I thought that was extremely scary. Was there a Hell?
Jews didn’t talk about Heaven or Hell. Jews lived for this life. Judaism, if you break it down to its core, is really about a foundation, a set of principles or rules to live life. The concept that there is no next life, no focus on the next life, this is the one you’ve got- I always thought was freeing. You didn’t have to worry about anything else just now. That’s not to say you could be a bad person, but if you were or did something wrong, you are obligated to seek forgiveness from the person you wronged - God has no place in this. It’s about human connection, being a productive member of society, a good person. The thing I love about Judaism is you don’t even need to believe in God to be Jewish.
In Christianity and Catholicism, in particular, there is so much emphasis on the afterlife and asking God for forgiveness when he already died for you. I think it’s an excellent marketing strategy to keep people complacent about their suffering in this life, and constantly filling indebted to something for being someone who ma make bad choices that would send themselves to Hell. If you’re promised any amount of time in heaven, (of course, once you’re completed your time in purgatory), you might accept things you wouldn’t have to accept if you thought- THIS IS IT.
On top of all the Heaven and Hell, Christianity set itself apart from Judaism in a number of ways. The two most interesting ways to me are:
1. Christianity is a proselytizing religion - spread the good word!
This concept is truly strange to me when it comes to religion. I think it’s because growing up even as an assimilated Jew, you knew that there were very few Jews in the world. I know that it just seemed like a lot because I happened to be born in Brooklyn, NY. But also, Jews do no such out reach. Jews have been a minority religion for thousands of years. Christianity and Islam came out of Judaism and unlike Jews, their religions believe that in order to achieve salvation you have to make it to Heaven.
And that promise of an after-life would be Christianity’s marketing message. The platform would be the official religion of the Holy Roman Empire (380 CE). This one event is crucial to Christianity’s survival and spread. Conquered lands accept the religion of their conquerors or face persecution (Judaism never had this sort of political upper hand but maybe things would have been different, who knows!) and Christianity would spread throughout Europe and by the Middle Ages nearly all of Europe would be Christian.
Now combined with the my second favorite way Christianity is different from Judaism(!) would foster the creation of the greatest marketing campaign created IMO: take Jesus as your Savior, your salvation or go to Hell and here are pictures are your soul burning eternally!
2. They are cool with depicting God, bring in forms of idolatry and the veneration of images of God
As the only monotheistic religion at the time to allow God to be represented in any form, you can win over a whole illiterate population with amazing, horrific, awe inspiring images to dominate your thoughts.
Just think about all the facades of churches, all the paintings, sculptures, stained glass windows that remind you that Christ died for your sins and you can either follow God and be good and get to Heaven or go against the teachings of God and burn in Hell.
So I’ve been fascinated with the images of Devils and demons and hellscapes and hellmouths and monstrous motifs for this very reason. It’s so vastly different from Judaism.
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