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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Survey #446

“so you can throw me to the wolves / tomorrow i will come back, leader of the whole pack”

Favourite cheese? American. Superman or Batman? I know literally nothing of Superman, but I like Batman. Who are your best friends? The only person I consider a best friend is Sara. Name the 3 most important people in your life: My mom, Sara, and... I suppose myself since I cherish my mental health VERY deeply. Are you currently learning from anyone how to play any instruments? No. Do you know anyone who is overly flirty with people? Girl or a boy? In my personal opinion, yes. I do believe it's possible to be "overly" flirty, considering you can really lead people on. It's a she. Do you believe vampires are real? Not the stereotypical Twilight kind. No. Have you ever been to a porn website? Were you addicted to it afterword? No. I'm really not into that. What is the most disgusting thing you think the opposite sex can do? I think the most disgusting thing anyone can do is commit rape. Would you rather be able to teleport or freeze time? Which one seems best? I feel teleportation is obviously more convenient and useful in dangerous situations. Have you seen the movie Twister? Did the tornadoes look real to you? LKJFL;AKSDJFKLASJDLFKA;WE NOOOOOOOOOO. I am WAY too terrified of tornadoes to watch that. Have you actually been through a devastating natural disaster before? Hurricane Floyd was pretty devastating. I was too young to really remember it, though. Did your mom ever fix your eggs and bacon into a smiley face as a kid? She probably did. What fast food place, in your opinion, has the best french fries? BOJANGLE'S, AHHHHHHHHHHHH. Do you believe one day aliens might take over the planet Earth? I mean, it's possible, but I don't know. Do you remember when they used to actually throw candy out at parades? I didn't know they stopped. Does it bother you when people burp around you or do you do it too? I couldn't possibly care less, it's a natural bodily function. Just because of societal standards though, I don't burp in public, though, but only around family and close friends. What is one kind of music you’d do anything to not listen to in the car? Anything like rap that has a STUPIDLY loud bass that just annoys everyone within a ten mile radius. When was the last time you babysat, if ever? Did anything bad happen? A year or two ago, for my nephew. No one else was free to watch him, so I had no choice. Nothing bad happened, besides nearly having a panic attack. Do you ever talk to people you met online through webcam? Or is that weird? No. Even Sara and I don't do it, because I'm too self-conscious of how I look. Even though she's seen me plenty before irl. Would you ever consider becoming a scientist? Why would you or why not? Well, I majored in biology briefly... I wanted to be a wildlife biologist. I just adore animals and thought I could do it. I just couldn't handle school. When is the next time you’ll talk to the cousin you’re closest to? I'm not especially close to any of my cousins. Are you really into vintage things? Have you ever been into that stuff? Yessss! is writing something that you enjoy doing? Definitely. Would you rather read or write? Write. Would you rather draw or take photographs? If I wind up being very proud of the product, I prefer drawing, but I take pictures far more. When was the last time you cheated at something? I have no clue. Has anyone ever copied off of your homework assignments? I think so? Do you have any pictures of celebs saved to your computer? ... *stares at my folder labelled "Mark"* What would you consider your favorite holiday? Why is this? Christmas. I love the whole vibe of it. The weather, the smells, the treats, my niece's and nephew's excitement... I adore all the lights and decorations, the gratefulness for family and your loved ones in general... I just love Christmas. If you’re a girl, do you have big hips? Too big? I'd say my hips are normal. Girls, do you think you look good in dresses or not? God no. Not anymore. Have you ever taken a pottery class before? Nope. How many times have you seen Star Wars? Be honest. Once. I didn't like it. Has your best friend ever made you cry? Yes. But in her defense, we've both made the other cry. Have you ever entered a talent competition? God no, I ain't got shit to flaunt. Are you smiling in your Facebook profile picture? Yes. If you wear eye shadow, do you put on a dark colour or a light? And if you wear mascara, what colour is it? I only ever wear black for both of those. What is your favourite Christmas movie? Jim Carrey's How the Grinch Stole Christmas. What do you get complimented on the most? My Markiplier tattoo, actually. What do you think of your best friend’s ex? One I REALLY don't like, the other I'm neutral about. Are you biracial? No. Do you have Pop-Tarts in your house right now? No. We try to not buy them, given they're just TOTALLY empty calories. They don't fill me at all. Is anyone’s birthday coming up? No. Does/did either of your parents serve in the military? No. Do you like sour candy? I LOVE sour candy. Where would you like to go on your honeymoon? Alaska, to see the Northern Lights. Do you usually wear sunglasses when you’re driving? I haven't driven in well over a year. Hell, maybe two. But no, because I'd need prescription sunglasses. Ignoring nutrition, could you live off veggies for the rest of your life? God no. Has anyone taken their shirt off in front of you? Yeah. What time do you usually have dinner? 5:30-6:30, usually. What’s your favourite meat? Chicken, I think. What is your favourite meal of the day and why? Breakfast. I just enjoy breakfast foods. What colour is your shampoo? White. Tell me a silly little old wive’s tale you believed when you were a child: My older sister got me to believe that if you said a word a ridiculous amount of times, it'd be the only word you knew how to say anymore, lmao. Shut up, I was little. What was the last magazine you bought? Do you subscribe to any? I don't buy magazines. Whose Facebook profile did you last look at? Was there anything that caught your attention? Uh, that's a good question. Do you regret your last relationship? Not at all. What’s better, mashed potatoes or sweet potatoes? Mashed potatoes, though I'm picky with them and the texture. Did you ever used to make cookies, cakes, or pie with your grandma? No. Do you like kids? Not especially. They ask too many questions and can be really rude, even though I know they usually don't mean to be. What are you listening to? I'm watching Gab Smolders play Dino Crisis 2. I finished her playthrough of Final Fantasy X, so now I feel a void in my soul that I am trying to fill with a new series lmao. Do you burn incense? Not really anymore. I'm not against it, I just... haven't. What is your favorite kind of cracker? Cheese-Itz. Can you name a single song by Billy Joel without looking it up? Yeah; I can name a few, actually. My dad loves Billy Joel, so I heard him a lot growing up. "Piano Man" is a classic. Do you like regular peppermint candy canes, or do you prefer different flavored ones [fruits, bubble gum, cinnamon, etc.]? I actually really like the Jolly Rancher ones. Have you ever been kissed while sitting atop the hood of a car? That's actually possible... but I'm not sure. I think I have a faint memory of lying on a car hood with Jason before. What do you think is the dumbest/tackiest piercing? I don't like calling a piercing either of those, like if they make someone feel more confident and attractive, good for them. I can say I'm personally not a fan of the smiley piercing, though. Have you ever requested a song on the radio? No. When I was a kid at a birthday party, though, one of the girls did. Does your mother still take care of you if you get ill? She helps a lot, yeah. What is one song that always brings back memories every time you hear it? Honestly, too many. I attach way too aggressively to songs. Do you currently have any pimples? Not currently, no. Did anything disturb your sleep at all last night? Ugh, yes. I couldn't sleep for shit. How does it make you feel looking at pics with your ex and someone else? I have only seen one picture of Jason with the girl he dated after me and it. Set. Me. On. Fucking. Fire. It's pathetic. If you’re not in college, why? All it did was give me emotional breakdowns. What do you think about MTV? I am way too out of the loop on what goes on on any TV channel to answer this. What was your very first day of your very first job like? What’d you do? How long did it take you to get the hang of it, and feel comfortable with working? This was waaaay too long ago... All I remember is actually being hopeful, though nervous. I never got to the point of feeling comfortable there. Or at any job. If you have a dog, are they friendly to strangers or other dogs? We don't have a dog, but we do have a cat that is EXTREMELY skittish around strangers. Someone he doesn't know comes through the door? He's bolting to hide. Do people ever comment on or joke about your driving? Well, I got flipped off once by a driver, so... I'd consider that a silent comment. I, to this day, don't know why they (it was a group of guys) did it, but it's stuck with me. What was the last thing to move you? Are you easily moved or inspired? The ending of FFX alsdkfjkaljlkwjer. And yes. If you`ve ever seen your very favorite band, did you cry when you saw them? Was it like a dream come true? If you`ve never seen them, do you think you would? I haven't, but I probably would a little bit. Of all the reality competitions you’ve watched, who are some of your all-time favorite contestants and what shows were they from? From America's Got Talent, I adore(d) Landau Eugene Murphy Jr., as well as Prince Poppycock. I keep up with them both on Facebook. Ever had a friend named Alex or John? One of my closest online friends was Alex. A couple years ago she just... got a boyfriend and fell off the face of the earth. Are you happy with your relationship status? I mean... no, I'm ridiculously lonely, but being single is for the best right now. What kind of stuff do you like on your hot dogs? Just ketchup and mustard. Have you ever been in a spelling bee? No. What is the most annoying thing that your parents do? Mom absolutely always assumes she's right. Dad repeats himself like CRAZY. Would you say you’re someone who has good manners? Yes. Did you parents know what gender you were before you were born? Actually, the doctors couldn't determine mine (or any of Mom's kids') because my legs were ALWAYS crossed when they did ultrasounds. Mom says she "knew" I was a girl, though. Have you ever been addicted to something unhealthy? I'm addicted to caffeine, yes. Who makes the best desserts in your entire family? Hm, I dunno. Do you have good dreams or nightmares more? I have very severe sleep apnea that results in very violent nightmares almost any time I sleep without my APAP mask. Even WITH the damn mask, I have them a lot. When was the last time someone insulted you? What was the insult? *shrug* Do you have trouble reading small fonts? Yes. I used to find it aesthetically pleasing, but my vision is just too bad now, even with my (shitty) glasses. Do you know anybody that believes that magic/witchery truly exists? I think so. Do you find watching animals in their natural habitat to be exciting & fascinating? Absolutely!! The last time you had sex: did you want it, or did the other person want it? ... You know it's supposed to be a mutual desire, right?? What does your sibling(s) call you? "Britt." Has anyone you’ve known claimed to be psychic? Maybe? I'm unsure. Did/do you believe them? Hell no. I don't believe in psychics and believe people who claim to be so are manipulative pieces of shit. Is anything annoying you right now? I am bored to an inexplicable level askldjfla;wejlr. Have you ever worn a pair of scrubs? Yeah. Anything in your room that you’re hiding from your parents or someone else? No. Have you ever felt abandoned? Well yes. By definition, my dad abandoned our family. Where are you? I’m in my bed. What’s been the worst part of this day? I've just been so, so bored. I'm sick and fucking tired of dealing with anhedonia. Who last encouraged you to better yourself? My therapist.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''throne'' by bring me the horizon

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coffeeteaitsallfine · 4 years ago

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do i even have religious trauma if i didn’t grow up “religious”? because i grew up with a religious mother, aunt, and grandmother. like very religious though non-denominational. but my father was “““raised catholic””” and hated going to church so i never went growing up except when i stayed with my grandmother for the weekend. she made me go to sunday school and i’d sit and watch veggie tales (the only highlight) and listen to people talk about things in the bible who fully expected me to already just know these things. i’d have to flip through the pages to find where they were reading from and i’d never find it because I didn’t understand their gibberish why wouldn’t they just use page numbers!! but at the same time i’d read children’s bible stories and hear the same things from my grandmother so many times...but day to day i was so agnostic? but felt guilty for being that way. I hated praying and when my grandmother wanted to say grace i thought it was so cringy and it made me so uncomfortable yet i felt so guilty about this. it was somehow my fault for not being indoctrinated properly when no one actually tried that hard, but yet when i showed any disinterest towards religion or an ounce of doubt the GUILT tripping and judgement i’d receive was unreal.

Still while all my relatives were religious it wasn’t an everyday conversation so I mostly just associated religion and god with nice thoughts and stories and never overthought being sinful. until i eventually realized at some point that some religious people were bigoted and then waayyyyy too late i realized that my Family members were like this too and that forced me to reconcile everything i’d ever known. i just didn’t and don’t fully comprehend how someone could be so secretly evil and judgmental when they were teaching the opposite. they were just pretending to be tolerant. my aunt had lots of gay friends! but since gay people “weren’t around” it was ok to say it’s not their fault they just have demons who are making them this way (single worst day of my life maybe? i shut down emotionally so idk). i had friends my freshman yr of college who were super catholic and so nice and gracious but i realized a year late how much i policed myself around them and pretended to be someone i wasn’t while also naively trusting them to be nice nonjudgmental people! (they weren’t)

i was sold a lie that on a certain level i still believe/want to believe but i CANNOT think about it. the thought of being left behind in the revelation terrified me so much as a kid i can’t give it up 100% but also i DO NOT trust anything a religion wants to teach me because all i’ve ever known and believed about seemingly good people was actually hypocrisy and hate and lies. i DON’T have the kind of religious trauma that would make me hate myself to any extreme though i do know what the shame is. I feel it from both sides, believing and not, there’s so much dissonance but mostly there’s so much interpersonal distrust. what do i even go from there

#i don't think im articulating this right #but also #intellectually philosophically i can't disprove A god so how can i ever fully release myself from the prison of belief #religion cw #homophobia tw #sorry yall...

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piccolosniccolo · 4 years ago

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Decepticon Wind Ensemble AU Expansion

Part 2 of 2. Characterizations of the Decepticons if they were in a High School Wind Symphony.

C o l l e g e. It’s great! But so time consuming lol. I had planned to get this done in August, but I had forgotten what school is like. So anyway, here’s part two!

Trumpet

Blitzwing: In marching band, he’s the section leader who will make you do fifty pushups for every minute you show up late. In wind ensemble, he’s the quiet guy who silently judges his section for not practicing. In jazz band, he’s bat shit insane.

Ratbat: The most arrogant member of the program. He has the confidence to back his skills, but he does not understand that dynamics other than ‘blastissimo’ exist.

Dragstrip: Started the tradition where the trumpets in the program will attempt to sacrifice a clarinet before a contest. Barricade is the primary target.

Wildrider: Hosted an after-performance party at the local McDonalds. He is now banned from the local McDonalds.

Motormaster: He once tripped on a Tuba in the stadium when he was trying to cut in line. This created a domino effect in the trumpet and trombone sections. It is said that Megatron switched from double shot to triple shot energy drinks on that day.

Brawl: Will miss his step-offs 95% of the time.

Bonecrusher: He can only play one scale. He can read music and he has the practice sheets, yet he can only play one scale. His auditions take twenty minutes.

French Horn

Octane: Will fight you if he catches you saying that Mellophones and French Horns are the same thing. No one will save you.

Flywheels: The only pieces of music he likes to play are chorals. Sure, he says he practices other tunes, but you that he’s lying.

Ramjet: He only listens to music by The Beatles. Their CDs are on 24/7. He can play the French Horn solo in “For No One.” He always asks Megatron if they can play their music in the stands.

Waspinator: The only reason why he chose to play French Horn was because he thought it looked cool.

Mixmaster: Does Tik Tok dances during marching rehearsal. The scary part is that he’s gotten others to join him.

Trombone

Scourge: Cried tears of happiness when DCI decided to accept trombones into the sport. This is all he practices for now.

Scorponok: His purpose in life: to add a trombone mouthpiece onto whatever instrument he can get ahold of. He then attempts to play this new instrument during rehearsal. Chaos ensues.

Rumble: Organized the trombone section to go to Sonic during rehearsal to get milkshakes. When Megatron noticed, it was too late. They were already running into the sunset.

Frenzy: His goal is to reenact every vine with a trombone. He cannot be stopped.

Reflector: He accidently threw his slide from the stands into the football field and knocked a football player out. The entire stadium was silent for ten seconds. He is no longer allowed to attend football games.

Bass Trombone

Overlord: Feels as if it is his responsibility to say the lewdest comments during rehearsal. He does this to get Megatron’s attention, but Megatron is particularly good at ignoring him. The other remembers of low brass? Not so much…

Euphoniums

Nickel: The only one keeping the euphoniums from descending into further chaos.

Clobber: Plays Animal Crossing during rehearsal. It’s a blessing from Primus that there has not been a collision on the marching field… yet.

Vortex: Always has the tendency to be flat. He never fixes this before rehearsal even though he’s been told to do so 20 million times.

Blast Off: Always has the tendency to be sharp. He never fixes this before rehearsal even though he’s been told to do so 20 million times.

Tubas

Crankcase: All of his friends are in band so he can’t leave.

Strika: The captain of loading crew. She makes sure the percussion equipment is loaded into the truck properly, and she makes sure the freshman put their stuff in the right place. She is not responsible for anyone getting run over.

Breakdown: He once had a marimba fall on him. That was not a good day.

Longhaul: After every rehearsal, he’ll play the first few measures of the Veggie Tales theme song. He’ll do this for five minutes.

Onslaught: Responsible for getting “Vehicle” taken out of the stand tune rotation. He’s on thin ice with “Hey Baby.” The band has agreed to fight him if that happens.

Piano

Kaon: He has perfect pitch. He’s an auditory learning god. If you think you’re good, listening to him play makes you lose your faith in pursuing music as a career.

Harp

Nova Storm: You’ll find her in orchestra more often than you’ll find her in band. The only reason she’s there is because she’s working on applications for music conservatory and needs the practice.

String Bass

Shadow Striker: Like Nova Storm, you’ll find her in orchestra more often than you’ll find her in band. However, she’s an honorary member of percussion, so you can find her in the back room with them.

Drum Kit

Tesarus: The only person in the program who yells more than Starscream. This is because he has lost hearing due to his tendency to forget to wear earplugs. He also has his own band. They have rehearsal in his garage.

Percussion

Sixshot: The king of multitasking. He can play the marimba with six mallets, and he is the tenor drum in drumline. He’s currently learning how to play piano and string bass

Quake: Always has first dibs on playing the snare drum. He will sabotage any attempt to take it from him.

Helex: Always takes the Timpani. He just wants the big solo moments.

Ion Storm: Vapes in the percussion back room. Accidently caused the fire alarm to go off during rehearsal. No one followed fire drill procedures.

Dirt Boss: The first to enter the percussion back room and the last to leave. What crimes does he commit? Sorry, but you’re not allowed to know that.

Crumplezone: Wrote “Elongated Muskrat” on the white board. Then he surrounded it with the cowboy hat emoji. Is it a death threat? A cry for help? A sign of the rapture? No one knows.

Jhiaxus: You never know what he’ll be doing next. From chimes to the gong to the cymbals to the Bongo drum, you’ll never expect what choices he’ll make.

Ransack: Purposefully reenacted the “Star Spangled Banner Cymbal Fail.” He is no longer allowed to play the cymbals.

Choir

Cyclonus: You might see him in the band hall. You might see him hanging out with band kids. You may even see him at football games and concerts. Don’t be mistaken, though. He is not in band.

#transformers #Wind Ensemble AU #blitzwing #overlord tf #cyclonus #sixshot #shadow striker #tesarus #helex #kaon #scorponok #transformers cyberverse #transformers cybertron #more than meets the eye

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unofficialkfamtranscripts · 5 years ago

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King Falls AM - Episode 10: Medium Rare

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Summary: September 15, 2015 - Sammy & Ben welcome in studio guest, medium Miss Olivia DuPont, however a miscommunication of her talents brings up some painful memories that both Ben & Deputy Troy wish to forget.

[podcast intro music]

Sammy [agitated] I’m not gonna debate you ma’am, I’m just trying to say that gravity really isn’t something that’s up for discussion, sheesh.

Ben [amused] Don’t take it personally. Mrs. Bodenheimer told me in third grade that she didn’t believe in air.

Sammy …conditioning?

Ben Oh, no! Air. In general. She thought oxygen was a satanic fairy tale concocted by God-hating scientists.

Sammy [disbelieving] Yet she was in charge of educating you and hundreds of other youngsters.

Ben College diploma goes a long way in a little town, buddy.

Sammy Alright, well up next we’ve got a pretty interesting visitor coming in studio with us.

Ben Hopefully so!

Sammy O— you don’t know her?

Ben I do not, but she sent us a ton of emails during the electrolocaust and said she was a big fan.

Sammy All of them say she has a special talent she’d like to share with us and the listeners

Ben Absolutely, and she’ll be coming up after a word from our sponsors.

[dramatic eerie music]

Announcer On the season premier of the nation’s number one paranormal investigation show: Mission Apparition. [theatrical crash] Dan and the team find themselves in a sticky situation. [static]

Dan [echoing] They had to shut this place down after all the accidents. This is Tanner’s Taffy factory and it’s been abandoned since 1991. [static]

Announcer …or has it?

Dan There’s, uh— God there’s a lot of EVP activity around [walkie talkie sound] Larry, Larry I’d think you better go.

[theatrical crash]

Dan [walkie click] [hushed] Larry? Larry! [walkie click] Larry go!

Larry [creepy, ascending, violin-screech sound effects] [through walkie] I see the lights, man, I see it

Dan Larry move your ass!

Announcer It’s another can’t-miss episode from the show that doesn’t miss a thing when it comes to the extraordinary: Mission Apparition

[News music]

NEWS ANCHOR Season premier, tonight at 9pm on King Falls Channel 13.

[KFAM theme]

Ben That is- ridiculous.

Sammy We’re live, Ben.

Ben I know! It doesn’t change the fact that “Mission Apparition” sucks as much as the channel that shows it.

Sammy It sounded pretty interesting to me.

Ben Dan and Larry from that show? wouldn’t know what to do in a haunted situation to save their lives. Stupid meters and light particles, [“stupid voice” imitation] “oh hey I know! let’s shoot some night vision so everything looks pretty scary and suspect!” Idiots.

Sammy You don’t have to get hot about it.

Ben Oh, I’m just fine, Sammy. I’m simply saying, Mission Apparition is a dumb show Made by dummies For dummies.

Sammy Ladies and gentlemen, please be sure to direct all your hateful tweets to @kingfallsam and we’ll make sure Ben answers each and every one.

Ben Get at me twitter! #bringit

Sammy *laughs* On a different note, we have a guest in studio with us tonight. She is a self-professed medium—

Olivia [slight South African accent] Miss Olivia DuPont. Heh, see I knew it was coming.

Sammy [laughing] You’re good Miss DuPont. So Ben tells me you emailed us in hopes of coming on the show?

Olivia I was very eager to come visit my favourite late-night AM talk show and maybe help some people with some closure along the way.

Ben Thanks Miss DuPont, we are happy to have you.

Olivia Oh, please call me Golden Owl. *Who-whoo who-whoo!*

Sammy Ummm…

Olivia *Laughs* What a hoot and riot, you should have seen your face Sammy. Please, call me Olivia.

Ben Ha. S- soo… um, you aren’t from King Falls, is that correct?

Olivia That is, I live a few towns over. Up in Big Pine. That’s where my shop is as well.

Ben I love Big Pine! I- I used to go camping there as a kid! It’s beautiful and so laid-back.

Sammy Laid-back? I didn’t know it got slower then King Falls!

Ben You’ll have to excuse Shotgun Sammy here, he’s a Big City guy.

Sammy Anyway, so how did you find out that you had this talent, Olivia? That you were a medium.

Olivia Oh, from a very young age. My parents were veterinarians and we lived in an apartment above their office, so I used to hear- so many lost souls. Day in and day out.

Ben Lost souls? Wh-why were these people hanging out at the vets?

Olivia [confused] People?

Sammy I’m sorry, Olivia. Maybe we’ve got our wires crossed here. We were under the impression that you were a psychic.

Olivia [firmly] Medium. Psychics are low life charlatans.

Sammy I’m sorry, a medium.

Olivia A medium is someone whose 6th sense is so in tune, so aware, that a bridge is made to the other side, in which we can communicate with our loved ones.

Ben Uh, but- but again why were the souls of people hanging out at your parents’ vet office?

Olivia *scoffs* What does this have to do with people, Ben?

Sammy Okay, this bridge that you’ve-you’ve built to the other side. Is it not for people?

Olivia [laughing] Heaven’s no!

Ben I’m lost.

Olivia Well I’m- one of a kind, I get human interference from- time to time, you know [long-suffering] a mother looking to reconnect with her kids, a brother that died in the war. Ugh. I ignore that. This is about our deceased loved ones. The furry kind, or feathered! or what-have-you.

Ben Wait. You talk to dead pets?

Olivia Harsh, but not incorrect Ben.

Ben [growing slightly frantic]Oh, no, see I-I-I booked you so we could talk about your gift and take some calls from the listeners, but—

Olivia We can take calls Ben.

Sammy So, to be clear, you have contact with human spirits and you just toss them to the wayside to talk to Fido.

Olivia *laughs* Anyone can talk to deceased humans, Sammy, especially here in King Falls. This place is beaming with activity- even the two of you could do it if you tried. But nobody talks to our long-lost pets.

Ben I’m sorry, this isn’t what we were looking for Miss DuPont.

Olivia Golden Owl. Hoh, excuse me boys *loud sigh* this one is coming on strong! MMMOOooo MMMrrrr… Moo. *loud sigh* Sorry boys,[solemnly] that was- that was a rough one. Cassie the Cow was crying out. She lived in one of those factory farms and she- *deep breath* was using me to tell the world about her last days in the Cowschwitz[sic].

Sammy Okay folks, we’re sorry. Just give us a minute or two so we can uh… So we can get this—

Olivia I seeee… a dog? forgive me- AAAOOOoo AWAWWOOooo ARAwwo *growls*

Ben [Irritated] Okay, I think we’ve heard enough.

Olivia Wolfington?

Ben This is insane.

Sammy [seriously] Wait. What color is the dog?

Olivia Black— oh a little-bit of brown. He looks like— a lap dog perhaps? Uhh…

Sammy A terrier!

Olivia Oh, of course, I can see it nowww. He’s just wagging his tail, so happy, chasing his ball- Oh! Ooh, he’s mounting your Teddy Ruxpin bear[1].

Sammy That’s him! Oh my gosh!

Ben [incredulous] Wolfington the terrier? Come oonnn.

Sammy That’s my dog, Ben! He ran away when I was in grade school.

Olivia Woof! RUFF! Ruff-ruff-rUFF! Oh. He wants you to know that he’s fine Sammy, Wolfington had a good life. He isn’t mad that you only ever shared your veggies at the dinner table.

Sammy [entreating] Heh, it’s all I could do little buddy! my mom was always watchin’!

Ben Sammy?

Sammy Uh, *clears throat* I mean, y-you know that’s- that’s good, that’s real good Olivia. Uh, thank you.

Ben What is going on here?! Snap out if it, Sammy, this is obviously a con. Facebook info- or something.

Olivia I seee— [whispered] what is it? Is it a bird?

Ben [mocking]Cuckoo. Cuckoo.

Olivia Is it a tiny… monkey? No— no no, dig deeper. Marsupial!

Ben You aren’t buying this, right?

Olivia I feeel a- a naame… Serendipity?

Ben [shocked] What the Hell?

Sammy Ben, you alright over there?

Ben I’m- fine. Um. Go on, Golden Owl?

Olivia Is it a… sugar glider!

Ben It is! Serendipity the sugar glider! Oh man.

Sammy You can’t be serious, Ben. Your parents bought you an exotic animal and the best name you can come up with is “Serendipity”?

Ben [defensive] It came already named, man, and No, for the record? we found it. There was a travelling zoo that came through the Falls. And the day after, my friends and I found a box, down at the fairgrounds, and inside? there was little Serendipity, looking back up at us.

Olivia He said he’s sorry that he couldn’t stay. He wishes he did, that mean man with the badge- well, [softly] and you know how that goes.

Sammy Uh, how what goes? What happened?

Ben [upset] I don’t want to talk about it.

Olivia He forgives you Ben.

Ben [forcefully] Golden Owl I said I’m done! Let’s Take some callers.

Sammy Ben, I’m sorry, but this seems like—

Ben [distressed] Why don’t you pry your fingers- into the open wound- of my heart, and dig it all out, Sammy? Sweet Jack in the Box Jesus.

Sammy … You’re right, I-I’m sorry Ben. Well, King Falls you’ve heard Serendipity’s story, now let’s hear yours. 424-279-3858. We are live with pet medium, Olivia DuPont a—

Ben Did he live a good life? Olivia? W-was he happy, like Sammy’s puppy?

Olivia Do you not know?

Ben Know what?

Sammy I’m so confused here.

Olivia Serendipity was a bit of an outlaw. Sugar Gliders are illegal to posses in the tri-state region because of the ’72 Sugar Flu outbreak.

Sammy Seriously, okay guys, I just pulled up Sugar Gliders on the googs, adorable!

Ben They were still illegal. My mom tried calling the travelling zoo but to no avail. And it wasn’t like I didn’t want to keep Serendipity, I loved the little guy but, one of my backstabbing “friends” from school said something to Bodenheimer … I-I don’t want to talk about this.

Sammy They took him away?

Ben Mrs. Bodenheimer did. She took him to the office, and I never saw him again. She said she was going to make sure he got back to the zoo, di-di-did he, Golden Owl?

Olivia MMEEEEOOOOOWWW MEOOOWWW *hisses* Sorry, a calico is summoning me.

Ben Cut the crap! What’s this about the man with the badge?

Olivia [nervously] O- of course I’ve just heard this second-hand. Ben— I mean who’s to say exactly- what happened? It- you know, it’s from a different perspective then we can understand.

Ben What happened?

Olivia Serendipity- bit the man with the badge on the drive and- was tossed out the window. Into the river. Then- eventually down the falls. *chitters and hisses*

Ben That son of a bitch, w-wha-who’s name was on that badge?

Olivia It’s murky. Hard to grasp. Serendipity is jumping from nether tree to nether tree- Oh! Oh! I think I have it. [straining] G. U. N. Oh, I can’t see- D?

Ben [angrily] I knnnew it.

Olivia Take it with a grain of salt Ben- I mean, it’s just one version, from [laughingly] a marsupial no less.

Ben He was an awesome. possum. I-I gotta step outside for a minute [chair squeak].

Sammy While Ben takes a little break, let’s take a few callers.[door closing] Give us a call King Falls. Let’s talk about your dearly departed, uh, pets.

Olivia I’m ready.

Sammy Line 4, you’re live with Sammy and Miss Olivia DuPont.

Troy Gosh darn it, Sammy, I’m really sorry to hear about Ben’s little buddy.

Sammy I’m sure he’ll appreciate the kind words Troy, I’ll be sure to pass them on buddy .

[police radio can be heard faintly in bg]

Troy [solemn] I’ve got a confession to make that I ain’t proud of. I… I was the reason for the demise of little Serendipity. Such a sweet little fella. I just didn’t know he get taken away, y’know? For good.

Sammy Wait. You’re the reason Serendipity was taken away?

Troy Ah hells bells Sammy, I was the one that rolled over on Ben but— I didn’t mean for the little furry guy to get taken away! It was just a real kerfuffle on this end.

Sammy This explains so much.

Troy Me and Ben was best buddies coming up, Sammy. I didn’t want to tell on him, but little Serendipity got frisky one day at lunch and sh[bleep] on one of the teacher’s Mexican pizza. Tough ol’ Bodenheimer cornered me ‘cause she thought he was mine. Ben ain’t never gonna forgive me and that’s deserved.

[door closing]

Sammy That’s all in the past Troy. I’m sure- someday –

Ben Sorry about that guys. Some-someday what?

Sammy Oh, uh- y-you know- we-we’re just taking calls from listeners right now Ben. On the line we’ve got- Troy.

Troy [mournful] Hey Ben. Man I was listening to the program tonight, when I heard Miss DuPont pontificatin’ about the dead animals and su—

Ben [Hastily] Now’s not the time Troy, especially from you!

Troy I’m hurtin’ something awful about Serendipity, buddy. How many times do I have to apologize to make it right?

Ben Loose Lips Sink Ships, Troy, the ship of friendship. Have fun on the SS Backstabber. [click, dial tone] Line 1, you’re live on King Falls AM. Prepare your tissues.

Ron Boys, I won’t keep you long. This question is for, Golden Owl? is that right?

Olivia Yes.

Ron Before my question ma’am, you might want to work on that name. It might just be me, but it sounds like a sophisticated lemon party for birds.Not that I’m against that sort of thing. Sh[bleep] even last night—

Sammy Ron Begley, ladies and gents.

Ron Alright I get it, enough foreplay. Brass tacks Miss Owl, how does it work if you didn’t particularly own the pet, but you saw it as a kid, grew up near it, fed it, maybe had a puff the magic dragon relationship with it.

Ben He wants to know if you can tap into your unending source of pain and find Kingsie’s parents. Maybe tell us how they were, harpooned by Japanese tourists in front of Kingsie as a baby and made into sashimi.

Olivia Mr. Begley I’m not sure if that’s really in my wheelhouse, but perhaps if you introduce me to this Kingsie you’re referencing?

Ron Well hell yeah! How can I get a hold of you to make an appointment?

Sammy All of Miss DuPont’s information is on our website Ron, or you can check it out on twitter at—

Ron Yeah yeah, @, ampersand, hashtag, underscore, exclamation mark dot dot dot King Falls dot net. Shut your sweet little trap Sammy! I got it! I’ll be in touch soon Golden Owl. [mildly exasperated] But seriously, work on that name

[click, dial tone]

Ben Other than, re-breaking everyone’s hearts, Olivia— what do you get out of this?

Olivia I’m sorry for the troublesome story, Ben. Not all of them -hardly any of them- end so badly.

Ben So I’m just the lucky one.

Sammy Ben—

Ben I’m so glad to hear that not everyone’s pet got thrown out of a moving car and into Peace river and down the falls by Sheriff damn Gunderson. That’s the silver lining, right?

Olivia If it’s true.

Ben [skeptical] You get a lot of lying cats and dogs in your line of work, Olivia?

Olivia [awkwardly] Not— to my knowledge.

Ben He did it.

Sammy Okay, let’s not go making accusations it could have been any number of deputies, maybe even from a different county, I mean who can say?

Ben [insistent] It was Gunderson, I just know it. He literally damn near spelled it out! Ask him to spell out the rest, Olivia.

Olivia He saysss, *sigh* Golden Owl, your business license is up for renewal, so don’t rock the boat?

Ben BULL!

Sammy *clears throat* Olivia, we’re gonna take another phone call here in a minute. Perhaps, uh, before that you could give us a light-hearted example of a run in with someone’s, uh, expired creature.

Olivia Well, there was this one encounter with Bruce the Stingray.

Sammy [incredulously] A stingray. Now, what’s a dead stingray got to talk about?

Olivia Well, Steve Irwin[2] for one.

[KFAM outro]

[Credits]

REFERENCES:

[1] Teddy Ruxpin - Teddy Ruxpin is an animatronic children's toy in the form of a talking 'Illiop', a creature which looks like a bear. The creature's mouth and eyes move while "reading" stories played on an audio tape cassette deck built into its back.

[2] Steve Irwin - “The Crocodile Hunter” was an Australian zookeeper, television personality, wildlife expert, environmentalist and conservationist. Possibly best known for the show “The Crocodile Hunter” (1996–2007), an internationally broadcast wildlife documentary series, which he co-hosted with his wife Terri. They also co-owned and operated Australia Zoo, about 80 kilometres (50 mi) north of the Queensland state capital city of Brisbane. Steve died on September 4, 2006, after being pierced in the chest by a stingray barb while filming in Australia's Great Barrier Reef.

#king falls am #king falls #kfam #sammy stevens #ben arnold #kfam transcripts #kfam ep10 #olivia dupont #Ron Begley #troy krieghauser #mission apparition

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heartedlystyled · 5 years ago

Text

Abu's friend asked Abu to ask me if i would be comfortable to wear Hindu with a Burka.

I'm not huge on burkas because i get the got breath back and im already always hot anyways.

But his friend, Abu said that he found interesting that Hindu is a combination of my usual need for bling combined with Islam dress.

I said i would look for an appropriate outfit in Hindu wear to see if i would he comfortable in Hindu wear...

Its the land of the free, I can wear what i want...

Then we can across the girl on the left and he said "you already kind of dress that way anyways and your daughter, too!"

And i do... In NYC we had friends that were India Hindu, Americans, US military and we played with their kids... And i remember the grandma always seemed to open the door and she always wore the red dot on her forehead. She would stab it to make it upraised with a little needle and she would re tattoo it like every week or So...

It looked like a felt dot glued securely to her forehead.

And she often wore pink and green with gold sequin trim And she was always sewing.

So somehow as an adult, i began dressing my infant daughter that way as i always wore pants or ankle length dresses/skirts... Younger i would wear above the knee with panty hose... But longer meant more freedom like no pantyhose or having to shave above the mid calf... Just in case...

With my infant i would put a cute dress on her with jeans because she would get cold... Cause she couldn't keep socks on and the jeans would cover her feet...

Then as she got older wanting her comfortable to play like a boy but in a dress had me to put leggings on her...

Then for me cause i got excessively fat, I didn't feel comfortable in a shorter dress or skirt... So i also wear pants.

But I do wear spaghetti straps or strapless... Because i like it. It still covers my books so..

And I can understand going to the movies with Abu and his single friend and his friend asking me to wear a bit more than normal...

Its not against me at all.., its about respecting his friend Abu... Like he isn't all trying to be looking at me because hes just sitting and zoning into space... Or because he is looking at me and talking...

Like to go on double dates or in a group and the girls have to wear a certain way... I don't mind to change it up a little so they feel more comfortable... Im not afraid of being shunned.. Abu will ditch them in the parking lot.

Its about supporting a culture, friendship and family.

So if i wear a zebra print burka with pink highlights... Its not the same as Islam dress.. Yet... I'm still making an effort to appease a religious belief that i don't necessarily agree with...

That said I'm not into a burka... But something similar that's sheerer so i sont get too hot... Something similar to what some Hindu wear for special ceremonies.

Growing up in a melting pot of Earth... In NYC we spent A lot of nights sleeping in the Hindu's living room floor in piles of pillows and blankets and pizza. Chips and dip and soda, veggie plate me and gramma shared and the boys had to eat one of...

And we would watch 1 American movie like Ghost Busters or whatever was new and all the Hindu/India movies we wanted. A

Often times they weren't subtitled or in English. But we would watch and the gramma or the dad (they didn't have a nom either) would explain what was happening... A lot of times the boys would go out with my brothers and i would stay inside with the gramma and watch movies and ask her what they said, why their faces changed

Because the boys would understand the scene and they would make part of the movie themselves, like the TV extended to the living room floor and they would pantomime and act out and joke around about what they would do if they were there in the movie scene.

Usually I just watched... And handed supplies... The back drop wall flower watching the people I loved changing the movie scene they would want to have included in the movie each time we watched it...

I loved it

But i also wanted to know what we didn't see. What we missed by living. I wanted to see what was on the other side of the screen that wasn't paid attention to on those fun nights.

Gramma had difficulty with English and expression and sometimes she got embarrassed if it was a romantic scene... So i would go to the TV and point to the people and tell her what i thought they were doing in each scene.

So essentially while my own mother had been killed in front of me and all i could remember of her existence was blood splashing on the brown living room curtains...

This kind Hindu old lady without a daughter in law of her own that died in childbirth, delivering at home and only had grandsons... Taught me about life, relationships, life events, life expectations and expectancy.

I would skip school a lot to go hang out with her... Just not even go. She would open the door to let the boys out and see me and ask "school?" And i would shake my head no "not today"

Eventually my dad asked me why i hadn't been and told them i had to go to school... I would just sit outside her door all day until she went to laundry after lunch and thn i would follow her around the laundry mat downstairs in our apartment building.

So then she got to,walking us all to school... But she said it took too long,to,return home So she would ride her bike in the afternoon, tie it up to the bike rack and then walk us home... In the morning she would walk us to school and she would ride her bike home.

In the 4th grade my class had a window she would pass by to go to the bike rack and i would stand up and wait to see her go by.

She changed. She became leaner and softer and happier. She would let her hair down when she rode by on her bike. Literally letting it flow down behind her, for like miles... Then she would pin it right back up in a Chinese pin she called it.

She taught me about life. About living. And about surviving when even you yourself have no reason for continuing.

And although I was breaking the rules and she knew... She wouldn't let me in the house as she promised but if i helped her fold the laundry as she directed and helped her to twke them from rhe cart and hand the baskets to her frim the doorway she would tell me "you help me, i help you. Here is food" and she would give me lunch and a drink. And she would sometimes sit in the hallway floor with me and talk to me about the movie we watched AFTER school was let over and the boys were home. As my dad had said i could.

To me she wasn't an old lady with a red dot and Hindu clothing.

She was my very dear friend. Very close to my heart. To me, She had no age. She was as young as me, sometimes even younger but smarter. She told me all kinds of stories about her life in India, her son's life... All her children, her husband.

For me i was always in awe, mouth dropped at her tales, they were so beautiful and made her face change dramatically with her huge smiles or her eyes turning round and filling with tears...

Remember how i wrote she had a red dot that looked like felt glued down?

It was

That's exactly what it was.

But one summer it kept falling off. The summer after 3rd grade. The boys would be loud so she would say let's to go outside in the hall and talk.

And i had already caused a huge thing at school, predicting my friend Rose's death and having PTSD, having my 3rd grade teacher arrested as she was from China and would hit us with rulers and make us kneel in rice and peas (she killed herself in prison, she had a 2 year sentence) and so me hanging out with a Hindu lady... It was another story, another event for my file.

I remember a rather large black man would sit around the corner and listen. But she would say "he is spy, i cannot continue talking. It is not Chinese. It is not bad. I di nit want to go in But i do not feel comfortable. You tell me now about you"

"No way! I hate this shit!" So i confronted him. Over and over. Until finally she giggled and told me "invite him to conversate. Tell him sit in floor, like man But be handsome. But not too sexy no no no. He probably married anyway and I'm too old. But please hurry. I'm i get nervous"

"Oh please! Don't tell me! You're too old! You already have kids! You can't date!" I said veey loudly as i walked to the corner "up get -- HEY GET BACK HERE!!! SHE WANTS YOU TO SIT AND CONVERSATE!! don't be a dummy come on" i caught him nearmy running to,the staircase.

"Do you know how old i am? I'm nearly 40! You can't talk to me like that!"

"I can. I just did. Now please sit. Would you like something to drink? I can get you some kool-aid"

"What's she drinking?"

"Its gin"

"I would like some, too"

"What's gin?"

"Just go"

Finally i found what i knew gin was and i handed him a deck of cards.

I learned her tricks... When she's annoyed or uncomfortable or suspicious, she flirts. She acts like he's all over her and she's all flat drunk out... Y'all have seen me do them. The unlucky fall for them.

But he didn't and she was drinking water.

And he told her my story. The stories i hid. The stories i wish never happened. The stories i forbid to be spoken around me.

And i tuned my back to,them so they could not see me,cry or push my migraines away. And it continued for days. And she ran out of tissues and i had to use toilet paper for my nose.

Then her red dot, the eye of the God ran began to fall off her face, everyday. She got new glue. Stronger glue. And it will still fall.

So shr asked him "what is this? Why this fall?"

He said "if you ask me, She loves you and now you know you know what love is and you don't need that to protect you anymore"

"It is not to protect but to see"

"To look for love that i know about you Hindu. That is all you speak To her about. Its love. That i do know and now you know her pain and how much she needs you. You understand --- is that all you do us cry?"

"She speaks"

"You know what i want you to do is get that tattooed but in blue. Next time I come to see you, I'll bring a book i have been studying and i will show you, its perfectly acceptable to get a tattoo of it on your face,but an any color. Because you know why you identify eith her -- i mean why you are both friends with each other, is because you are both sad"

"She sad. I'm sad. So now I'm friends? With her, a small child? I am odd duck"

"Now now don't you smile, Sabrina don't you laugh at the old lady!"

"Shes funny! She's not ducking she's brave! And she's small not odd and she's sweet and even,you like her! You tell her to,get tattoo! You're strange if at all!" I blurted out... The first time I talked in weeks, it felt... In reality only about 5 days.

And so long conversations short... She used a blue pen to draw a star... As he said she was my star, my human North star, to help me find the light in life and she had came to me when my life was most darkest And i was extremely suicidal and had been caught trying to drown myself like umpteen times... Cause i wanted to die outside because it felt better than dying inside all stuffy and around people like Denise. And i wanted to drown in the river but someone always saw me. 8 years old and all... I had my desires in how to die. I wasn't stupid or mindless.

He said she had been given red as her felt dot, from a priest, because she had felt love. Still knew love, still wanted love and Still believed in it and Still looked for it.

But he said that sometimes the dot could change. It could change shapes, sizes and colors. And he said if her brain leaked out, it didn't leak love, it leaked sadness. So thus her permanent eye of ra should be blue. A light color blue not too dark because she allowed light and happiness to shine thru the tears of her world.

And that was what she had taught me... Once I learned the videos then I would interact with the TV... And the boys would watch and then we would all play along with what was on the either side of the screen and i taught them what i had learned from Granny Hindu.

She would watch us and cry. The dad would watch in shock and awe as his sons were finally being taught their native tounge and important parts of the movie and ceremonies. Sometimes he would cry.

Eventually he began wearing his Hindu traditional wear and they would get up and dance the traditional Hindu dance and teach us while we the the pillows and blankets up on the couch. And we would laugh

Of course my back would hurt easily and the boys, because of the dad, all eventually would pick me up and dance with me like i was a doll, then supporting my small amount of bony weight with their arms.

And the dad would do the granny..,her feet dangling at his knees would make me,laugh so heartily!!

The boys wouldn't pick me up so high... Mostly I would lean on their shoulders or elbows...

And so granny settled on blood sweat and tears as she realized it wasn't happiness she knew best but sadness.

And she got a light blue tear in the middle of her forehead, tattooed. And she would wear a jewel over it, shaped like a tear, as beautiful as ever. But sometimes she wore a larger than in the past, red felt circle over it... "I looked for love and i found it and it hid all my tears"

So of course I would dress myself and child subconsciously in Hindu like garb. And of course I would wear it when out with people of Islamic culture.

The tattoo shop which had done her light blue tear, eye of Earth had also shown hwr how to hand poke tattoos as is conventional in her home country of India. Although she had her ra in a professional tattoo gun.

The government spy man had arranged it for her. He also came to our weekend slumber parties, some times falling asleep after a long hard work day on the couch like a child and we would give him a blanket we ha from out massive pile and cover him. I would say "heres you a blankey" and usually he would take the corner with his massive black hand or sometimes just sigh, inhale nd exhale deeply. Usually me and the boys took turns to cover him.

Little children covering an over 6 foot tall almost 40 year old man.... Ages from 5 to 10...

Because that is what love is.

Sometimes he would start breakfast... After the first dozen times escaping in the night after catching up with his zzz's and we told,him if he was gonna,crash the slumber party with his big body probably breaking the couch with all his long bones and muscles then he needed to crash all the way and watch Saturday morning cartoons. Cause that was the best and breakfast in bed... Or the pile of blankets an sheets nd pillows like a nest for baby birds as we called it. That was the best part. After waking up woth friends we loved and understood when we felt most misunderstood in the world. Them being Hindu with a gramma with a red dot the tattoo in the middle of her forehead totally misunderstood was she a witch? Crazy? How old was she? 40? 100? And then us, watching our mother murdered, barely being able to remember her or just being able to,watch the blood spray md wonder and,cry where was our lovely mother? And the puking. The days and night of puking and puking from fear, disgust, worry and sadness. And still death seemed to follow us everywhere no matter how we predicted it or didn't or wanted it or didn't. Cared or didn't. Prayed or didn't. It was just there. Always there.

And so he would stay... Did we find him in granny bed above the covers cuddling fully clothed once or twice? Yea. And we decided it was better than Saturday morning cartoons and so we all silently munched cereal and watched them, sitting in her bedroom floor doorway... Until we feared they were dead and then I would whisper hey and he would jump awake from laying on her shoulder or sometimes boob/rib or gramma Hindu would slowly open her eyes and be in her little dreamlike state and the first few times was innocent "hey there's a man in your bed. That isn't s pillow laying on you" we would whisper

But there was that one time... That one time that she fully seduced him like the prowling cougar she is and it was a whole different Saturday morning when she clutched the blanket to,her chest and said "YOU KIDS GET OUT!!"

And I not understanding cried at her "Why are you acting Chinese!?!?! I'm not getting out until you explain!!!"

So i had to be explained that he was in his boxers and had been under the covers and they didn't want all the kids to see their privacy

And i said "Fine! I'll get out! But that's gross!!!"

Because at 8 thats what i believed.

"And you should have made breakfast or i wouldn't had known!!" And i spun on my heel and threw my hair in his face.

And Alex asked me "what's going on? I mean with them?"

"I can't talk about it" heavy slumped shoulders, neck aching "let's just watch TV that's better" he bugged on and on until i covered my head to avoid him and fall back asleep

But when i woke he asked again and i told him "they had sex"

And he called me a liar and herded all the boys to go ask.

And then they called me back to,the room so we could get an explanation

And I said "i don't want to hear all this shit. I know the birds and the bees. In and out it goes"

But he tried to talk to us about love...

But Alex threw up..

Because our mother's murderer whom used a chainsaw to her neck while we were all assembled to watch... Then said that exact same thing and had added "want to watch" as he raped our mom's nearly decapitated body.

He was right. Sadness would always exist because of love.

Well us kids didn't care about two consenting adults with their heads fully attached.. Unfortunately her son did and he was really an ass hole. Only caring about himself and his feelings, then put in for a transfer to move across country to get his 60 year old cougar momma away from a early 40 year old kitten...

Destroying his son's lives in the process... And ours... And even his own happiness

Instead of allowing his mother freedom to love.

But before all this the young thug kitten only looking for one thing So said the father, an alley cat, he was allowed gramma Hindu to hand poke a tattoo on his right toe. An S. With an astrick just tucked inside the bottom tail.

"Samaria"

That was Grandma Hindus name.

She gave herself the one i drew above... An S for Sabrina for helping her find Samaria again And of course the S for herself as well.. And two stars... One for the one we could see in her in the bottom and the other to honor the stars she could see... And she told me one for me and one for her for our friendship. And the F next to Because they were so most important to her... The F did get bigger over time and eventually became the same,size as the S as her family evolved and changed...

I suppose the story is true. She handpoked white in the "standing leg" of the F to represent the Father, her son of the family in anger because of the move.

She could have stabbed him to death. I would not had blamed her.

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juliehamill · 5 years ago

Text

Wayne Hussey, Gillian, and me.

In my teenage years I went to The Barrowland Ballroom in Glasgow countless times to see The Mission with my pal, Gillian. The Mission has always been a band that makes a big powerful sound, full of melody, and Wayne Hussey in his dark glasses, black hat on a smoky stage has a clear dominating presence with which the crowd connect to and thrive upon. The Mission gigs in the 1980s were crazy, bouncy, full of love; and me and Gillian revelled in the chaos. Too young to drink, we stole a cider from the bar and threw ourselves amongst it, laughing as we got shoved around in our black clothes. The whole room stunk of patchouli. It was a blast.

Before Wayne Hussey came over for his tour last year (Nov 2019) Omnibus had provided me with a copy of his book, Salad Daze to review for the rock n roll book club. It is full of great stories about his time with The Sisters Of Mercy and such evocative tales of his childhood. After reading it, I wanted Wayne for a live interview for rock n roll book club, more than I ever wanted anybody. It’s great when I get to interview people that have meant something to me in music. It’s even better when their book is brilliant. I wanted Wayne, for his juicy stories, but mostly for Gillian and our past.

The publisher set it up for November and put us in touch on email. With a date pencilled, I wrote to Wayne and told him of my friendship with Gillian, and how the The Mission was one of the bands we enjoyed together. I told him of how we would sit in her bedroom playing God’s Own Medicine and get up and dance and shove each other about. I told him of the day that Gillian peeled back a small piece of the wallpaper and wrote on her bedroom wall, in biro, ‘I still believe in God, but God no longer believes in me’. We folded the wallpaper back over, so as not to get in trouble. Thirty-five years later, when the house was being cleared to sell, the little quote was still written there, on the wall under the paper.

Gillian and I were best pals for almost forty years. As teenagers we were never out each others houses drinking tea and eating chocolate biscuits and talking boyfriends and school. Once I accidentally broke her kitchen table and my dad came round to fix it. Their house was always full of young teen drop ins drinking out of a stainless steel pot of tea and hanging out with Gillian’s sisters Fiona and Monica, her dad Jim and her mum in a peeny, Gina. For a short time there was also a mad dog, Paddie, he enjoyed everybody’s legs. Gillian and I shared a love of music and were very close. We took trips together to Fort Augustus and slept on Michael and Ronald’s floors. We never thought twice about taking off somewhere with a backpack. I copied her French homework and she borrowed my tapes. When I moved to London she lived around the corner for a while. We were steeped in history and hilarious memories that carried us through a lifetime. When she lived in Manchester she’d send me silly funny notes in the post and I’d do the same. When she moved back to Edinburgh we would phone each other and sing The Mission and Lloyd Cole and The Smiths down the phone. She was cement for me and I for her. Although far apart saw each other whenever we could. We phoned each other a lot and just became kids again.

She was, in fact, best pals with so many people. Her little sisters, Fiona and Monica, and our other pals, Jacqueline, Elaine, Caroline, Babs, Sharron, Lorna, all of her school mum pals, all of her cousins, all of our school friends, the boys from the Academy. Anybody she touched in life instantly loved her. Even foreign exchange students and pen pals kept in touch. Like her mum, she had an abundance of love that beamed out from behind an apron. She was generous, loving, intelligent, loyal, hilariously funny and strikingly beautiful; and she was always, ALWAYS, making tea. She had a glow about her; an energy of positivity, youth, mischief and fun. Everybody had adventures with Gillian, and I was lucky to be one of them.

In Spring 2018 we received a text out of the blue saying that Gillian had been diagnosed with bowel cancer. When she was diagnosed my first thoughts were of how young she was, only in her forties, and how they would definitely operate. She had no symptoms. It was just there. As time moved on she discovered it was incurable and six months later she was gone. I got to spend some time with her in her last days in the Western General Hospital. I took in photos of us to look at and the old things we used to do. We laughed, even though she was in excruciating pain. I have never seen somebody in such pain, she couldn’t stay still despite every powerful drug available being dripped into her body. But still she laughed and smiled. ‘No greeting!’ she said, ‘You’ll get me going.’ I treasure those last few days, but forever feel useless and confused because there was nothing that could be done. I couldn’t save her. Nobody could. It is a powerless, rock hard and impossibly raw feeling to accept.

When Wayne Hussey sent a nice gentle reply to my email I just burst into tears. Because I wanted to phone Gillian. There’s a second when, although you know a person is dead, you get some news that relates to them, and you go to dial their number, and the crash of remembrance is overwhelming. The realisation that I couldn’t tell Gillian first was devastating. I wanted to hear her high excited voice. ‘Oh my God! What you gonnie wear?’ I wanted to smile through the sore tears. She deserved to be here; she deserved to meet him. In those minutes a parallel of our past life and my current life without her smashed together, and I felt lost, empty and just heavily sad. How come I’m here and she’s not?

But Wayne, well, what a gent. Gillian - you would have loved him.

I met with him quite a lot in a short space of time. First for dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Camden with the Omnibus team where I talked rubbish and asked him to sign my records. I had veggie fajitas and kept offering him a bit. He laughed, and was kind and charming. Honestly the nonsense that poured out of my mouth. I composed myself and then interviewed him at The Dublin Castle for rock n roll book club. We could have talked all night. Watch the link, he’s sensational.

The next morning he came into do my radio show Hamill Time on Boogaloo Radio. We had such a laugh. Wayne is easy to talk to, funny yet professional and quite mischievous. Perfect for Gillian.

I went to his gig in Nambucca that night, which was just brilliant. I felt Gillian beside me. Wayne Hussey’s connection with his crowd is very genuine. He gave me a shout out from the stage. His performance was incredible, authentic and moving. I’m pleased to say we’ve stayed friends.

Gillian, Thanks for sending me Wayne Hussey. I miss you every day. I’m off to listen to God’s Own Medicine now.

Wayne, thanks for reading my books, thanks for all the music and the kindness. You’re the best.

Thanks to David at Omnibus. With love to Fiona, Monica, Jim, Simon and the weans.

In September a fundraising ball was to be held in Gillian’s name to help raise money for Bowel Cancer, but regrettably it had to be postponed. Every day, 110 people are diagnosed with bowel cancer. It can be symptomless, and reach late stages without any signs. Please donate to help fund research. Do something amazing today. You can donate here.

If you can’t donate (times are hard) but you have some wonderful object that would be amazing to raffle at Gill’s ball in 2021, please get in touch. Thank you. X

RIP Gillian Farrell 10 June 1971 - 8 September 2018.

(You and Wayne would definitely have enjoyed a pot of tea and a Caramel Wafer).

#the mission #bereavement #cancer #friendship #music #salad daze #books #Wayne Hussey #grief

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puppyluver256 · 2 years ago

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My Deconversion Story

It’s just occurred to me that I don’t think I’ve ever told the exact story as to why I am an atheist. Considering certain events and recent experiences, I feel like it’s a story that could stand to be told to the fullest that I can recall.

Buckle up, pups, it’s gonna be a long one.

I have to preface this with a suspicion I’ve had for the past few years: despite being raised in an environment where belief in jesus and god were taken as A Given, I don’t actually know if I ever truly believed in the bible stuff. I don’t think I ever took it super-seriously the way some people end up doing when they’re heavily indoctrinated as kids. My dad, while raised methodist, was never super enthusiastic about religion. My mom still affirms her belief in a god and jesus to this day, even with the occasional questioning of such, but she only ever took me to church because my grandmother (her adoptive mother, we’ll go into more detail with her later) played the piano at that church. Once she stopped playing, we stopped going, and even during the sunday school stuff things were never pushed to the point of “if you don’t believe all this is real You Will Burn Forever”.

Or if they were, I didn’t pay much attention.

Another thing you gotta understand is that I am autistic, even though I didn’t know about that myself until after college. (I was diagnosed, but never told about it.) I think that may play a role into why even the mildest indoctrination never really “took” with me. Obviously I knew of jesus as a concept, and I had the vaguest kid-friendly knowledge of some bible stories because I watched some Veggie Tales stuff. I specifically remember my really cringey way of drawing asterisks as a kid: “a cross + :D with jesus on it X :D” But I don’t think I ever thought of any of that as “real” any more to my child brain than I thought of Pokemon being “real”. And I wanted Pokemon to be real so, so bad.

I was never told by my parents that bad behavior or having certain undesirable traits would send me to hell. I was never threatened with eternal torture for anything. The worst instance of hell I managed to process as a kid was that “go to hell” was a comeback to throw at other kids on the playground. It was never something I was meant to take seriously.

When I started getting into middle school, I started to realize that people actually were taking the god thing seriously and it wasn’t just the “weird thing the adults do to influence the morals of the kids” thing I thought it was. I was starting to notice that they were taking it seriously enough to be against The Gays, at least. I never had problem with The Gays, mostly because of an experience years earlier when I and a girl classmate kissed and people taunted us and called us gay (that’s another story, and how that came back to mind with my recent realization that I am a romantic lesbian is something to be saved for another time). I will admit at the time I thought it was a choice to be gay, much less in the “choosing something bad over something good” sense and more like “choosing to have delicious pizza for lunch instead of an equally delicious cheeseburger”, but that was because a boy I didn’t like had made a presentation that it was not a choice to be gay and I hadn’t quite matured enough to realize that yes, you can agree with someone you dislike, especially when it’s a proven fact rather than a subjective opinion.

(though I think I started to realize people were taking the whole “god” thing seriously a few years earlier, when they started attacking certain groups for following their god in a different way because of the actions of a certain pocket of assholes, but that’s not really my story to tell as I was never directly affected by all of that beyond being shown the broadcast of that inciting incident on TV at school WHYYYY WOULD YOU SHOW THAT TO NINE YEAR OLDS)

Remember me mentioning that maternal grandmother earlier? Well now we’re coming back to her. She was the hardcore christian in the family. She was the one who played piano at church. She was the one who most likely influenced my mom into taking me to church and being enrolled in the sunday school. Her house was COVERED in jesus memorabilia. And despite the fact that she would watch Logo (a queer-themed channel on satellite TV that may or may not still exist) on a regular basis, she believed any “lifestyle” that wasn’t cishet was An Abomination. She wouldn’t word it like that specifically, but when I knew about this, I knew. (And yet she never had a problem with me being so into Pokemon. At least she had her division between reality and most fiction set up pretty solidly, or rather the division between secular and religious fiction.)

Now we get to me at the age of 14. I literally only know that it had to have been 14 because this was when I was in my Muppet hyperfixation and I had brought the DVD set of season 1 of the Muppet Show on my weekend sleepaway to...this grandmother’s house. One night, as we were talking about something, she began to shake unexpectedly. I knew she had diabetes. I had been briefed about how to help her if she went into diabetic shock. I had not, however, been briefed on what the signs of diabetic shock were. I thought she was playing around. I had laughed. I didn’t realize what exactly was happening until her husband rushed in and forced a cookie into her mouth, at which point the shaking slowly subsided.

And then it hit me. I had watched her experience a medical emergency and I had laughed.

I was 14. I was uninformed. I was wracked with guilt.

And my guilt was about to be used against me.

Since this was a weekend with the god-fearing granny (which btw, why would a supposedly benevolent god insist on its creations fearing it? but that’s a side tangent), she had of course taken me to church with her. Maybe Friday night, likely Saturday night, definitely Sunday morning. Church was not enjoyable at 14 as it had been at 5-6. I didn’t get to spend time away from the service among peers, I didn’t even get cheesy crackers and appl juice (or the more “cool” equivalent for a teenager) to snack on while the adults droned on with their boring songs. I could tune it out, but I don’t even remember if I was allowed to bring my drawing supplies with me to keep me occupied in the meantime. At some point, my grandmother had convinced me to get a baptism. Or maybe I had convinced myself that getting a baptism--doing something related to the religion she seemed to care about so much--would help mend the damage I had seemingly done by laughing at my grandmother’s medical distress. She was delighted. My parents were called and asked to come to the church to see their child become “washed clean” as a “(child) of god”.

I was brought to the church. I was put in a white full-body smock and led to the pool at the front of the service hall. If my assumptions about what was to come had been correct, I would likely still be trapped in a metaphorical contract with a fictional god that I now know for a fact cannot be real. Ah yes, I neglected to mention that I have--or at least had--a mild case of hydrophobia. Having water poured over my head isn’t so bad. Having my head pushed underwater, absolutely a no go.

This church did full immersion baptisms.

Once I learned this, I couldn’t go through with it. I protested, I begged the person who intended to baptize me not to put me under, I didn’t want it anymore, I couldn’t do it. This person thankfully understood, as did my parents, who would later tell me that they thought it was weird that I’d wanted to get baptized considering I had never really been serious about the bible stuff. But sooner than that, I would hear of my grandmother’s perspective on the whole thing via my mother.

“Ohhhh I’m so worried for Jess, (they’re) not baptized and I’m terrified (they’re) going to go to hell!”

“(They’ll) be fine, (they’re) a good person.”

“But (they’re) not baptiiiiized! (They haven’t) accepted Jesuuuus! (They’ll) fall into siiiiiin and never get a boyfriend!”

“And what would you do if (they were) a lesbian?” (note: I did not realize I was romantically into girls at this point, I only knew I was asexual)

“Oh, I’ll pray for (them).”

This botched baptism and the fallout thereof was the catalyst for two things. One was the beginning of my further distancing from religion. The other was the beginning of the end of my relationship with this grandmother. Hearing about how she’d gaslit my mother and being trapped at her house for family gatherings a few years later when she couldn’t (and her husband wouldn’t) properly clean up after her dogs and making my allergies activate so hard that I consistently sneezed so frequently I pissed myself absolutely did not help in the latter part.

As for the distancing religion thing, I stopped saying “under god” in the pledge in the mornings. I even stopped saying it in the Spanish version of my Spanish class. That was the only time I got in trouble for it, and at least there it was slightly understandable because I was there to learn the language and not necessarily proclaim an allegiance to a god that I had no interest in pretending to believe in. Eventually I just stopped saying the pledge altogether.

Over the years I could see even more how fervent people can be when it comes to religion. I was forced to wear long pants to my birthday party in June in Kentucky and be incredibly uncomfortable because of that grandmother and the fact that we had rented out a building that just happened to be on the same property as a church simply because “ladies don’t wear shorts in church even if it’s like 80 degrees out and really humid because upper south” (but hey, I ain’t even a lady anymore and we weren’t in church, shame this bitch ain’t around anymore cuz then I could tell her to eat it!!). I was yelled at by roommates by referring to the bible as a “storybook” without even saying that I specifically meant “fictional storybook” (a memoir is a storybook too, y’know). [You might’ve seen the story of me trying desperately to avoid an evangelizer.] I’ve seen countless apologists insist that I and people like me “know” their god exists and that we “suppress that knowledge in unrighteousness”. People like me are painted as cold, hateful, uncaring, immoral, self-serving, egotistical assholes, all because we are not convinced of the idea that there is a higher being that made us or literally anything else in their favorite storybook.

I wasn’t heavily indoctrinated like a lot of former christians might be. I wasn’t pulled out of school because I mentioned the teachers telling us about Neanderthals rather than adam and eve. I never grew up worrying whether I would get into heaven or hell, never worrying how I would spend an eternity that honestly sounds like an awful thing in and of itself even without the potential intended torture. I was never encouraged to watch creationist propaganda in place of fun science shows. Veggie Tales was easily consumed as a secular product with my mind filtering out the god stuff despite it being front and center. (is it any coincidence the best VT content is always when it’s more secular, at least on the surface?) There was more crying and heartache over learning that Santa Claus wasn’t real than there was in realizing that there was no god. Santa Claus was a decent dude, and if you were “bad” the worst he would do would be to leave you a less extravagant present that would at least have kept you warm back in the day. The god of the bible is written as a petty tyrant that would allow every innocent person in the world burn just for the victimless “crime” of not believing in it and fulfilling every demand it gave of them, and I am glad to be rid of it before it could worm its way deeper into my brain than it had been able to.

But I understand that I’m one of the lucky ones. My most negative direct experiences with christianity ended with my hydrophobia kicking in, most of what’s happened since then is the typical internet evangelist being their typical annoying self, and the threat of hell has never worked on me beyond informing me of how unlikeable someone who tries to use that threat often is. Not everyone is so lucky. There are those forced into religious schools whether or not they believe, those whose parents complain to public schools that dare to teach the understood facts of evolution rather than the fairy tale of creationism, those who are denied from expressing anything even remotely queer or sexual independence or divergence from strict gender roles because idk some nonsense about the fictional concept of “sin”, those who can’t access important physical or mental health care because people in charge want to deny them that right under bizarre reasoning like “that fetus has a soul and if you stop it from growing that’s MURDER” or “you are a man/woman because you have a penis/vagina and it’s wrong to change that and there’s definitely NO other option besides male and female”, those who have seemingly no way to escape the Grasp Of God that life has dropped them into.

I don’t speak out against christianity’s wrongdoings, christianity’s overreach, and fundamentalist christianity’s refusal to accept any facts about history and nature and science because I just want to whine about something I find distasteful. I speak out against it because it is inherently wrong, and for the people who currently can’t speak out. For the people who’ve had it worse than me. For the people who are having concerns about the religion they’ve been brought up in and are too afraid to ask themselves those incredibly burning (metaphorically) questions less they risk finding themselves burning (literally) in a world that never even existed in that silly old book to begin with.

-----

Feel free to reblog, but if you do please take care to keep the content warning tags or tag further if you feel it warrants it. I am aware that I dug heavy into christianity here, but that’s because that’s what I’m even vaguely familiar with. If you want to hear someone speaking out against some other religions, go talk to an apostate from those religions, because I’m not going to rail against something I’m not properly informed about.

This is not an invitation to proselytize. Do not try and convert me or anyone else that interacts with this post either in the notes or in my inbox. If you wanna try that crap, make your own post on your own blog.

#jess's boring life #knock knock get the door it's religion #or lack thereof #atheism #deconversion #christianity tw #christianity mention #hell mention #diabetic shock mention #homophobia mention #unsanitary mention #anti-abortion mention #transphobia mention #ask to tag further

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ysabelmystic · 6 years ago

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Church Adventures

Ok, so, I’m currently an atheist, but I had a super SUPER religious upbringing up until I was about 12 or 13. For no reason whatsoever, I got slammed with some extra stuff that I thought I’d blocked out. This is NOT a “stupid sheeple christians” post, but more just some particularly weird, lowkey culty stuff I witnessed that I’d like to remove from my system.

1. Church gave me my very first gender crisis. I was a super small child when they started pressing the gender roles. They said that the women must obey the man, for he is the head of the household or whatever. Ok. I won’t get married. But I was informed that I’d want to and eventually would. Ok. I’ll be a boy! I was sincerely informed that that was not an option. T’was not a fun day.

2. I was told to beware false angels. Which I get, demons are angels of light and whatever, but there was a very specific imagery involved. I was warned that angels would appear from the heavens and offer me riches and power, which is how I’d know they were false. It was presented like the “say no to drugs” stuff that was pushed in school. All I can think of now is some shifty looking angel in a golden hoodie standing in an alley-way like, “psst, kid, wanna buy some Satan?”

3. Batman was evil. During the few years I was in an actual cult, it was announced that Batman was evil. A woman claimed that she’d decorated her kid’s room with Batman stuff, and instantly, the whole area began to hold a dark presence, which disappeared when she prayed and removed the Batman stuff. Everyone just rolled with it.

4. I had asthma as a kid. It’s probably because the pollution where I lived was quite severe, but the cult-church decided it was CLEARLY demons that were clogging my lungs. Every other month or so, I’d get dragged in to see these three old woman in an old office building. They would chant and pray, throw herbs, and rub all kinds of oils on my body. After I sneezed a few times, they decided I was cured. That was always fun.

5. Again, the cult. The other kids and I were taught how to do magic. And I do mean that. We would lay on the floor and meditate and pray to invite the presence of the lord. I thought I was getting REALLY close to God, because I was feeling electricity and shit whenever I was in that room. But then I learned about static electricity. I was on the carpet and sitting next to a metal table. Any dreams I might’ve had about being a sith lord were ruined that day.

6. I want to mention that the cult was kinda racist. We had to invite the pastors into our house so they could do an official cleansing. They decided our closet was a source of demonic energy, and asked my mom what was in it. My mom opens it up, and their eyes go straight to a box of craft beads. They questioned my mom about their origins, and my mom says, “These are all from [craft stores] except for those, that my stepdad brought from Africa”. Aaaaand out went the African beads, because they were clearly cursed with voodoo and black-people magic. I’m still mad about that.

7. The final church I went to had a small library. The only YA books they had in there were either “teenage boy goes hunting and learns about raccoons and Jesus” or “girl turns into the world’s most worn-out doormat”. Lots and lots of lessons on forgiveness, letting people walk all over you, and becoming a proper woman in the eyes of God by letting your cousin beat you up and doing nothing about it. Fuck that series.

8. Veggie Tales was pretty weird, but Mr Henry’s Wild and Wacky Bible Stories just had a demonic energy. Puppet fish? An electric chair? Talking animal heads on the wall? Never seeing Mrs. Henry even though she was mentioned (did he kill her???)? The gray walls and the warehouse vibes? That was weird...and creepy.

9. Apparently they don’t like it when you call Mordecai a “lowly hobo”, especially when you’re doing an impression of Queen Esther as a valley-girl. To be fair, they did ask how Esther could have responded to his warnings of Hamon. I guess they just didn’t expect that much.

#I don't expect this to get notes #im just bored

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mrneighbourlove · 7 years ago

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Death and Emptiness, Hand in Hand: Part 1/2

"By god. It’s true."

Leere Dragmire walked through the construction sight of castle town. Whole buildings levelled and debris being moved away. She wasn't present in Hyrule for the recent invasion by threat whispered as Vul'kar. Her last day traveling through she had encountered an increasing presence of undead Stalfos and other monsters. They were attracted to darkness and death. And very landscapes had been torn apart. Seeing more and more destruction she only hoped her family was alive.

A guard stopped her from entering the castle. "I'm sorry. Due to recent circumstances no citizens are allowed into the castle until the bridge is fixed."

Leere raised an eyebrow and took out a locket, the Hylian Royal Family insignia on it. Just because she didn't happen to look like a princess didn't mean she wasn't one. "Princess Leere honey. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to enter my home."

The guard was confused, and on closer inspection, he wasn't Hylian. Had a darker tone and the smell of ocean. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize the royal family had another daughter. Still getting used to this. Please, follow me."

Leere nodded, grateful to see if her family was finally well. Three years was a little long.

"Zizi, you've already built nearly seventy temporary shelters today. Enough is enough, you need to go rest." Zarazu chided her younger sister gently as she held up some water. "You're exhausted. You only have so much magic to use each day and you're overexerting yourself. Several Zemljas and Kovinas are tired because of all of this. Just because you are my sister doesn't mean you have to do extra."

"Listen to her, Zi." Zolori was holding a basket full of fruits for Zizi to eat. "You've worked all day. You need a break."

"But... but some people don't have a shelter." Zizi huffed as she put her hands on her knees, sweat rolling down her forehead. "Where will they sleep?"

"It's called camping, one night under the stars won't kill them." Covarog assured his sister-in-law. "Besides, we'll have fires to keep everyone warm. Right now, they're handing out some food grown by the Zemljas for emergencies. We were able to salvage some of the fields, but not much."

"Yeah. Looked like everything was torched." Leere stepped into view. She had extremely beautiful pale skin with crimson eyes and dark flowing chocolate hair, while wearing common traveling gear. The second she laid eyes on her younger brother her composure had regained. She knew that he'd keep the rest of the family safe. "Good to see you Covarog."

"...! Leere!" Covarog internally felt a wave of relief. He never did see her among the captives when Vul'kar took so many hostages. He was hoping she was far away and safe. Hurrying to her side, he swept Leere up in a big hug. "Thank goodness you're safe!"

"...?" Zizi exchanged glances with her sisters.

"More or less obliterated by ancient monsters of the deep." Zolori wiped the soot off her hands by rubbing them together. "And you are..."

Leere hugged Covarog as he easily spun her small frame around like a ragdoll. Settling down she turned to the rather good looking blonde, arching an eyebrow after checking her out. "Leere Dragmire. Eldest daughter of Zelda and Ganondorf." She quickly winked to Covarog. "By two weeks against deer Rinku of course." She looked back at the three woman. "And might I know who you all are?"

"Oh..." Zarazu stood there, a bit confused. Covarog never mentioned another elder sister. Then again, there were extended family members and close friends that the Dragmires considered family. Maybe this term was just an endearment. "I am Queen Zarazu Slatki of the Lorleidians."

"Leere, this is my wife." Covarog gave Zarazu a small peck on a cheek. "We were married right before this disaster happened."

"These are my sisters, Zolori and Zizi." Zarazu smiled at Leere. "It is nice to meet you."

"We're just in the process of rebuilding." Zizi explained as she took a seat on a nearby rock, too tired to stand any longer. "It might take a while for Hyrule to return to normal."

"With the dragons' help, it shouldn't be too bad."

Leere processed all of that. She curiously studied them closely. From the look of mistrust in Zolori's eyes and her tight body stance, the dreadlocks in Zizi's hair and her carefree aura, to the tattoos on Zarazu.

She looked to Covarog a bit shocked. "You...you're married."

"Hitched, united, joined in holy matrimony, mated, take your pick."

"Zolori!" Zarazu blushed slightly at that last synonym.

"Just wait until you hear the story of how they met, that's one for the history books."

"Zizi, not you too!"

"What? It's a good story!"

"Actually, it is a good story, ironic too." Covarog chuckled. "What brings you back after three years?"

"You mean besides hearing that Hyrule went to hell? I was worried that Dad might have gone off the deep end or another apocalyptic evil may have hurt you guys. Sorry I was late."

"Apocalyptic? Yeah. Evil? Definitely. Defeated and out of this realm? Check." Zolori checked off her imaginary list. "All thanks to the efforts of my sister, her buff husband and everyone else."

"Princey-Pooh went down once but came back up." Zizi munched on her snack. "It takes a lot to keep him down."

"Zizi, we talked about the nicknames." Covarog sighed in exasperation.

"What? Kingy-Kun doesn't care."

"My father doesn't care about that kind of thing."

"Still. It's cute."

"Kingy-Kun???" Leere snorted. "I like that."

She looks at Zarazu again. The Queen was indeed a fine woman. Smiling she whispers to Covarog. "Popped your cherry huh? Was it everything you imagined?"

"Leere!" Covarog turned red all the way to the tips of his ears.

Zarazu blushed as well, trying to keep her composure.

"Just asking~"

She goes to Zarazu and shakes her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Zarazu. I'm glad to have another sister."

"And one big scaly baby to boot." Zolori added.

"Yeah, Ba'puu won't leave Zarazu alone for long." Zizi took a sip of her water.

"It's always nice to have a big family." Zarazu returned the hand shake. "I'll have some others to introduce you to later, but first, maybe we should find you something to eat."

"Thank you. Because too tell you the truth I am famished." She looked to Zolori and Zizi, moving to politely shake their hands. "Nice to meet you two as well."

"Maybe you gained three more sisters." Zizi held up a piece of tangerine. "We don't have any meat at the moment, just fruits, veggies, and some bread. Hope that's okay."

"Pumpernickel or wheat?" Zolori offered a slice. "I think we got some sourdough somewhere."

"You can camp with Zizi and Zolori if you wish." Zarazu suggested. "Covarog and I will stay with Ba'puu."

"Can I say I love your outfits. Wonderful blend of elegant, free, and a dash of sexy~" She smiles at Zolori in particular. "You keep mentioning this Ba'Puu. He a brother of yours?"

"Glad you approve and if I liked the same team, you're easily a ten, but you might be better off approaching another lady." Zolori shook her head. "No, he's Zarazu's baby. Our nephew."

"Zolori jests." Zizi told Leere. "He's Zarazu's dragon."

"An extremely clingy, sassiest of sassy, giant water baby." Covarog described Ba'puu with a roll of his eyes. "Refuses to be separated from my wife for too long."

"Now, now, Ba'puu isn't that bad. He was raised by a human, not a dragon so he's bound to be a little..." Zarazu stopped when Covarog gave her look. "... okay, he's a little attached to me at the hip."

Leere picked that up again. "Dragon? You have a baby dragon as a family member?"

"He's an adult now, I took him in as a baby." Zarazu clarified as she put a blanket on Covarog's shoulders. The night's chill was already blowing across the hills. "And growing all the time."

"More like she has an army of dragons." Covarog assured his sister. "Good dragons though. No human eaters. Actually have human riders."

"Huh...I'll go bunk with Zolori and Zizi as I'm guessing my room is probably rubble."

"Everything is rubble." Covarog sighed. "The castle, the town, even the port. It will take a lot of building and patience, but we'll get Hyrule back to its former glory."

"Zizi sleeps in a hammock, so I'll roll out a sheepskin for you." Zolori told Leere. "Unless you prefer a hammock."

"I'm fine with either. Slept in crypts before." She turns to Covarog. "I don't want to wake up being dragged out by you, Ral, or Orana into the crying arms of Kanisa or Tebby Bear."

"Better go say hi after you finish eating then." Covarog told her as he pulled his wife in closer for warmth while the two of them nibbled on food. "Make sure you don't scream if you see dragons anywhere. It will just annoy them."

"Like you screamed around the Redeads~"

"Heh, not much to be jealous of. We have more to the family for you to meet." Covarog was ready to rest for the day. After trying to clear a lot of rubble and talk to the people, he was all for some sleep. Of course, he and Zarazu had no privacy, so there would be no nocturnal fun. "Get some rest, Leere."

"Sure thing 'little' brother." She leans up on her tippy toes to give him as kiss on the cheek. Patrolling the castle she found the rest of her family relaxing with the latest grub. "Hey! How you doing!"

It took some explaining and a couple of laughs, but Leere was able to meet her new family members. Cass was proud to introduce little Ukuri, who was already a few months old. She was a happy baby, did not cry much unless she was wet or hungry. Ralnor seemed a bit lighter instead of the usual doom and gloom. Corsaire, the pirate captain, was less of a surprise to Leere. She always knew that Orana would seek out that pirate from the books she loved as a kid. What was surprising was how the two of them took on a kraken together and lived to tell the tale. After saying hello to Kanisa and Tebanam, it was time to sleep.

Leere dotted over little Ukuri. "Awwww. I'm your Aunt Leere. You ready for sleep? Need a sucker for the little sucker~"

"She's still on the breast, no sugar." Ralnor turned his sister away from the baby. "You can coo over her tomorrow. She has a sleep schedule and it cannot be interrupted."

"He's very strict about the sleep schedule." Cass told Leere with a brief chuckle. "No interruptions."

"Still picky over the tiniest things. Never change Ralnor."

Later that same night Leere was groaning in her sleep. She felt restless like this. Having gone to what was left of her room she was disheartened to find her favourite blanket torn in two, along with most of her possessions torn into pieces. Lucky she was able to grab fresh clothing of hers before going to bed for the morning.

Waking up she felt incredibly groggy. "Need. Caffeine...."

"Good thing I grow coffee beans." Zizi was hanging upside down outside of Leere's tent. There was a huge tree, full of swinging vines that Zizi and Skull Kid made a home in for the time being until the forest was healed. She made sure to situate it near her and Zolori just incase she needed. "Zolori can roast them for you."

"Thanks monkey girl..." Leere rubbed her eyes as she got up, putting a clean bra and shirt on. "Don't worry, I can get a kettle or something."

"Good luck finding one in the rubbish." Zizi held out a motar and pestle. "This works just as..." Her sentence trailed off when she noticed the dark magic markings on Leere's back. While Covarog's family still had hints of dark magic usage, it still unnerved her, especially since this one was dealing with necromancy. She recalled Klinge saying something about how he didn't like to be controlled. Maybe this was the person who did such a thing to him. "Well."

"Thanks, I'm pretty handy." She notices the way Zizi is looking at her. "What's up?"

"Nothing, just admiring the ink." Zizi wiggled her left leg, thinking fast. "Got some myself. Zolori is fixing some breakfast too, so help yourself."

Leere smiles to defuse the tension best she can. "Of course. Hope she good at cooking as she is good looking."

Leere gets up and heads out to have some food, waving nicely to Zolori. Too bad she wasn't gay. "Morning."

"She hasn't killed anyone with food poisoning yet, but has a tendency to burn things."

"I heard that!" Zolori yelled from the cooking site. "I like it burnt!"

"Normal people don't!"

"Says you!"

"Says everyone!"

"Oh, go kiss the pranking undead kid!"

"You go kiss Vul'kar's ass!"

"I'll burn your eggs!"

"I'll go find more!"

Zolori handed Leere a leaf, placing some eggs and bread on it.

"Coffee will be ready in a minute."

"Thank you, I'm sure it's fine." One bite into the burnt eggs and Leere's face scrunched up. She contorted a smile as she kept eating it. "V-very nice. Maybe a more rare in the future?"

"... sorry. I think it's a Vatra thing." Zolori switched the eggs out with some ones that were less burnt, taking the burnt ones for herself. "We like things burnt."

"So where's your flint?"

"Flint? Don't need it." Zolori held out her hand, and snapped her fingers. The fire appeared in her palm, swirling there. "Just like Zizi doesn't have a green thumb, she literally is the green thumb."

Leere's eyes glowed with the fire, memorized by the flame. "Elemental magic? Are all Lorliedians capable of magic?"

"Yeah, all of us are. Just appears at different ages." Zolori shrugged her shoulders as she munched on a piece of toast. When the coffee started boiling, she then took it off the flame. Pouring an amount into a clay fired cup, she offered it to Leere. "I was a teen when my flames appeared, Zizi was around seven when plants sprouted, and Zarazu was... three I think? Water first, icy talent came later." Taking a sip of the coffee herself, Zolori then counted on her fingers. "Water, fire, wind, earth, metal, lightning, and spirit. So that's Voda, Vatra, Vjetar, Zemlja, Kovina, Munja, and Dusa. Take your pick."

"That's amazing. So much life in your magic. So in tuned with the Earth." She takes the coffee and smiles. "This is damn good coffee."

"Glad you like the coffee." Zolori extungished the flames with a wave of her hand. "You think that's something, just wait until you meet an elder. Much more impressive stuff." Standing and stretching, she then said, "Might want to check with Covarog to see where you can help. I'm stuck with helping Kovinas salvage metal. If you need anything else as far as food goes, just check with Zizi. And watch out for Mask-For-Faces, he's gotten wind that you're back."

"Skull Kid? He's just mad I seduce everyone he likes~" After the coffee she sets her cup down. "Thanks. I'm going inspect the castle and later the countryside for damages."

"Well, more specifically casualties."

"Heh, let me know when you and Rinku save the date." Zolori sighed and then frowned. "We found most of the bodies, but feel free to knock yourself out and dig through rubble for any belongings."

"Yeah. I'm sure you were very precise." She walks to the castle and lays a hand out on the rubble. Concentrating she closes her eyes. The cold flesh buried underneath, alone and, for now, preserved by rock and wood and metal.

"I'll start digging. I want to talk to your sister sometime. Get a better feeling on her."

Zolori felt a chill travel up her spine. Dark magic, Lorleidians were super sensitive to it. The sole existence of the Lorleidian people was to balance the light with the dark. Still, even after all this time of combating it, the magic still gave her the creeps.

"Zizi? Or Zarazu?"

"The one who's married to my brother honey." She starts crawl around the rubble.

"Zarazu?" Zolori wondered what Leere's intentions were. "Anything you wanna ask that you think she might not answer?"

"That's for her, not you. No offence." Leere gets close to a buried body and starts digging.

"If you wanna know how much they fuck, that's easy, like... oh I don't know. Every day?" Zolori was trying to think of a number and found she couldn't, but it was in at least double digits. "Though you should know, Zarazu's a kind soul until you mess with someone she loves. That's all I can really say. Otherwise, feel free to question away."

"Good. Then you won't mind getting her for me."

Leere tore some wood beams away to discover a young girl. Just a poor little maid. Taking a deep breath she laid her fingers on the frame of the deceased's skull.

She saw the darkness over taking the sky, felt the fear that the young girl felt that turned into utter panic when she saw an Abyssian. It was such a contorted creature. She ran away as fast as she could, only to look up as the ceiling came down upon her.

Sighing Leere remained neutral, closing the girls eyes. "Be at peace...."

"Zarazu's helping get some fish right now for eating, but you can talk to her after that."

"Very well. Tell her I'll be waiting by the courtyard."

And that she did. For two full hours. "I bet Zolori didn't even tell her. Freaking blondes..."

"Zolori did tell me, though there is such a thing as having to cater to your people." Zarazu finally appeared in the demolished courtyard. She smelled like fish and had her hair pulled back from her face. After distributing the food to her people, she took the leftovers to the dragon mothers who were unable to hunt because of watching their hatchlings. "I apologize for taking so long. Is something amiss?"

"No. No. I just wanted to get to know you a little better is all. After all, you're married to the man who I had to read bed time stories to."

"Heh... well, I'm not occupied for the next couple of hours." Zarazu was exhausted and simply sat down on a free patch of grass. "I'm sorry I'm not more presentable."

"That's alright. You look fine to me. It wouldn't be inappropriate to ask for your tailor would it?" Leere sat beside her.

"We actually make our own clothes and patterns." Zarazu laughed softly. "Let me know which pattern you like and maybe when I get my hands on some materials, I'll show you how."

"Thank you. It has a much more elegant belly dancer look to it." Leere took a breath of the air. "Thank you for protecting the people of this land to the best of your ability. I regret heavily not being here."

"To be honest, I was at odds with Ganondorf at first but... sometimes, it takes two people to right the wrongs of the past." Zarazu had nothing to hide. "Slowly, but surely, this became a new home where we could grow and... surprisingly, I found love."

"Yeah. How did you meet my brother?"

"That's the ironic part actually..." Zarazu admitted sheepishly. "We tried to kill each other at first at his birthday party when I took back the artifacts Ganondorf took from my people. Then when he followed me to Lorleidi, we um... were better known with each other during a week or so. Got past the bias, and talked... then Vul'kar happened."

Leere snickered loudly at the party. "That's too funny. I'm sure it was a very romantic first impression. So Vul'kar. Big scary demon I'm guessing?"

"Abyssian." Zarazu was not sure how much she should elaborate. "Locked away wrongly for loving someone and creating the first mixture between light and dark; the Twili. Went insane, attacked the whole world for what happened to him. Wanted it to be swallowed in the darkness he knew."

"Good job on stopping him. How about a lighter mood." She grins from ear to ear. "You got to tell me, did you make the first move for nocturnal activity? I couldn't see Covarog being brace enough to move in on a woman of your caliber~"

Zarazu's face turned redder than a strawberry.

"... yes." She couldn't look Leere in the eye.

Leere tips Zarazu's chin to look at her. "Cute. Very cute~ Can see easily why he fell for you." Tickling her chin Leere leaned back with a chuckle. "So I guess you and Covarog will be the new sovereigns in a few years? Maybe a couple kids?"

"I... suppose." Zarazu really was not sure how ascending the throne worked in Hyrule. "When Ganondorf and Zelda are ready to retire, we'll take over of course, but... as far as children, we're waiting for Hyrule to be stable again. It wouldn't be fair to a child to neglect it over the needs of a kingdom. I know Zelda has her ways, and has spoken of nannies, but in Lorleidian culture, the mother cares for the babies unless she's unable."

"Very noble. Must be a little hard though, what with Cass taking the lead."

"No, I'm happy for Cass and Ralnor." Zarazu smiled. "Covarog is delighted for his brother. He swears Ralnor smiles more often now, and there's actually a light in his eyes. I'm in no rush. Besides, I have Covarog to focus on right now. A baby will come later."

Leere nods in happiness. "Wise for such a young woman."

"You raise two sisters and a baby dragon, you learn some things.”

"I bet. So as Queen of the Magic Islanders, got anything cool?"

"...? Anything cool?"

Leere shrugs. "You know. Relics, magic, other worldly powers?"

"Oh! Well... I'm a Leden Voda." Zarazu held out her hand, touching Leere's coffee cup. The liquid instantly turned to ice before returning to a normal liquid. It sloshed around a bit before resuming a calm state in the cup. "I can control water and ice. Most Vodas only control water and can move ice, but cannot form it."

Leere takes a sip. "Your iced coffee is something to be desired. Anything else? How'd you get your tattoos?"

"This is a tattoo of a whirlpool that I had done myself." Zarazu pointed to her stomach. "The ones on my arms are from the Seven Siblings, the spirits who granted us these abilities. Each tribe has their own type of tattoo to honor the spirit from which has blessed them."

"May I feel them?"

"Of course." Zarazu held out her arm. "Don't be alarmed if they glow. It's normal."

"Better then my tattoo." Leere felt them, surprised by how smooth her skin was. "Very moisturized. I like that. I can tell you'll be naturally young for years to come."

"Thanks. If you want a tattoo later, I'll hook you up with Kolkov. Looks like a brute, but is the best one we have at tattooing." Zarazu offered. "Lorleidians usually live long lives anyhow. Current age to beat is 131."

"Impressive. I'm sorry you lost your home, but I'm glad your culture survived. Your sisters told me that your magic covers all the elements of the Earth. I respect the light in that type of magic you have."

"Lorleidians exist to keep the balance. That's what I've always been told." Zarazu then asked. "I'm glad that you returned home safely. I know that when a family member is away from others, it makes them worry about you."

"Indeed. My work and quest for knowledge keeps me far from home. They also bring me hope when I need it the most."

"Now you're making me feel like an old sage." Zarazu knew that wisdom came with age but she supposed her experiences resulted in her gaining some earlier than normal. "

"You're not old yet. Take it from me." Leere looked around her surroundings. "How do your people deal with life and death?"

"Life and death? We do belief in the afterlife and death is just another part of the journey, if that's what you're asking." Zarazu clarified. "We have the God of Life and Goddess of Death, stories going back as old as Hylia and Demise."

"Interesting. What are their names?"

"Heh... ironically enough, Ba'puu and Zarazu. My father had a... twisted sense of humor."

Leere held her hand gently. "I understand. My birth father named me after emptiness. I'm not actually Hylian."

"I could kinda tell that from the skin and the hair... and the eyes." Zarazu remarked with a slight chuckle. "Not Hylian, not Gerudo... maybe... this legendary Garai tribe that Tebanam insists exists?"

"Did some tracking down, but part of a people called the Mortuus. Very vague though on who they are, except the name. Don’t think it matters though." Leere took a deep inner breath. If she was family now, she'd need to know.

"How do you see dark magic, especially around death?"

"Dark magic is, was, the sole purpose of why my people were created." Zarazu regretted to look on Leere's face. "Lorleidians are here to keep balance. Our job is to eradicate dark magic, especially if it is a threat to others. Since joining the Dragmire family, I've gotten used to seeing other sides of dark magic, but... some of my people..." She sighed. "Since Vul'kar and his blackness, they're more on guard than ever. I understand that some dark magic can be used for good, it's just... when you see it being used for evil so much, it's difficult to accept. I hope you understand that I'm trying my best not to be biased."

Leere nodded understandably. Was going to be harder then she thought. She stood up and looked down at her. "How much do you know of necromancy?"

"I haven't had much experience with necromancy." Zarazu was honest. "Most of Vul'kar's magic was just... brute power. Mind tricks, nightmares, controlling against the will, even necrosis."

"Do you know what necromancy is?"

"The use of the dead... to..." Zarazu thought about how to word it. "Carry out said person's wishes?"

"Very textbook. Necromancy allows you to control flesh, blood, muscle and bone once the soul has passed. It lets you connect with wandering souls on a spiritual level. Construct and summon creatures, sometimes demons of the dead and darkness. And if you are willing to sacrifice, bring back those that have long since been gone."

"And I'm assuming that bringing someone back is a big risk?"

"If you aren't willing to sacrifice other lives that is."

"A life for a life... it makes sense."

"It's a cost I'd never take..."

"I don't think I could either if I had that sort of magic." Zarazu thought of all the people she lost in the battle with Vul'kar and old Pojiji. "There are many people I miss... some I didn't even know that I wanted to. Though the only comfort I have is that one day, I'll see them again. No pain, no tears... just joy."

"I hope I get that chance, if my soul isn't dammed." Leere held her heart. "Zarazu. I'm a necromancer. Hyrule's strongest, and most knowledgeable. Even able to perform taboo blood magic."

"... in my culture, a soul isn't damned unless they’re willing to turn to evil." Zarazu thought about her words before she spoke. "So unless you're planning on raising an undead army to conquer the known world... in my book, I think you have a fair chance."

"I could do that. Even have the knowledge to transfer souls. It's about a willingness to do so. You aren't...weary of me are you?"

"I'm not weary, just cautious of your power." Zarazu admitted. "I've dealt with a lot of dark magic before concerning Vul'kar and his lackeys. I've seen what dark magic can do."

"Of course. Wise Zarazu. I can do much, but my specialty it summons. Used to place zombified heads around to scare my siblings. Would you like a quick demonstration?"

"I think I'm good with the demonstration of zombie heads." Zarazu quickly dismissed that idea with a weak chuckle. "I could deal without a scare."

"It's not too bad. I could range from a few Dead Hands, or less scary spooky skeleton warrior. Also have a pet Wall Master I nicknamed Lefty." Leere gave a warm inviting smile. “Just to show its not entirely bad.”

"Let's just do whatever is less... scary."

"Skeletons it is!" Leere took a few steps back and grinned. Raising a hand she effortlessly summoned a few skeletons. Their bones cackled as they rose from the earth, but were clear white. With additional effort she got them to dance. "Does the fair Queen like her show?"

Zarazu jolted, unable to help her reaction. Experiencing Vul'kar was one thing, but this was a whole new area of dark magic. Try as she might, the queen was still unable to be completely at ease. While the dancing was... impressive, for lack of better word, Zarazu knew she would feel much better once the skeletons were back in the ground.

"I think---"

Before she could deliver an answer, Ba'puu made his presence known. He was never too far from his mistress. Zarazu told him she would be by the lake for a visit after a meeting with another member of Covarog's family. However, it looked like she was in trouble with dark magic. He could sense it. He could sense her unease. Vul'kar came close to killing his mistress. Never again would he allow someone to hurt her. As long as he was alive, the water dragon was going to ensure his beloved human lived to see old age and be happy with all her years. With a roar, his mighty fore paw slammed the woman into the ground.

Leere felt bad for Zarazu, could sense her discomfort. The poor thing must have been through a lot. She was about to release her grip on the two jolly skeletons when her body was slammed down from behind by an unknown force and her small frame was easily knocked out as her head cracked against the ground, bleeding her forehead from the impact. The skeletons crumbled away back into the earth as her mind momentarily slipped away.

"BA'PUU!!!" Zarazu shouted at his sudden attack, standing over the exposed portion of Leere's pinned form. "NO! No, no!"

"It's dark magic! Undead magic!" Ba'puu roared. "I won't let it hurt you!"

"She's not an enemy, good spirits, let her up!"

"What do you mean she's not an enemy?! I saw the skeletons! She was going to attack you!"

"No she wasn't, it was just a demonstration!"

"What?!"

"She's the other sister that Covarog was telling me about!"

"That's not Orana or Kanisa."

"She's adopted! Let her up!"

"... are you sure? I could crush her right now."

"NO! No crushing, let her up!"

Leere's magic started to stir her awake in an unconscious state, a protective safeguard against sudden trauma. A few dead hands rose from the ground, albino white with patches of blood and unnatural finger tips, and they clawed and nudged him to let go, others trying to get a grip and pull him off. Luckily they only scratched at his scaly and well protected arm. Leere groaned heavily in a concussed haze. The hands kept slowly rising, their only will to protect their injured master.

"... fine... but one wrong move, and she's a pile of ash."

Ba'puu reluctantly lifted his paw and easily crushed the hands, still too paranoid about the latest events.

"Leere! Oh my spirits, I'm so sorry!" Zarazu helped Leere roll over and looked at the bleeding gash on her forehead. Taking the sash from her waist, the queen used it to press against the cut. It was all she had here and was not sure if her healing magic would help since it was light magic. It was better to be safe to avoid an adverse reaction. "Are you okay?! Do you have any broken bones?! Can you understand me?!"

Leere looked around as her vision was blurry. Her hand lowered the Dead Hands to retreat back into the Earth, at least for now. "What...the fuck...happened....Was I…stepped on???"

My dragon happened." Zarazu shot Ba'puu a look.

"I was protecting you, I'm not going to apologize." Ba'puu chuffed, still standing with his tail flicking back and forth angrily. "What the hell is that woman?"

"If I knew you practiced dark magic I could have told him but I didn't know---damn it, I'm so sorry about this."

Having met a Hylian Dragon once she learned about the telepathy of Dragons and their kin. This particular one had an annoying arrogance in his voice. "You...asshat. Go fly into a hornets nest. What kind of child attacks a woman from be-" Leere lurched up and threw up some bile. She needed immediate medical attention. Magic preferably. "Fountain....take me to the fountain south of the castle, under the cave."

"Too big for a hornet's nest, dumbass." Ba'puu snorted. "I do whatever is necessary to protect my mistress."

"I can heal but it's light magic?" Zarazu then heard Leere's instructions. "A fountain? I can summon water here!"

"Or I can dunk her in the lake."

"Ba'puu, hush."

"Fuck you fatass. I can see you eat too much to be small." Leere put her arm around Zarazu for support. "It's a healing spring. Hidden. I think you'll like it."

"... never mind the lake, I'll just take her to the deepest depth of the ocean."

"Ba'puu! You're not helping!" Zarazu apologized for her dragon. "I'm sorry, he's usually not like this at all, he's just spooked by the dark magic."

“I’ll take your word about him with a grain of salt for now.” Leere groaned as they made their way. "Should have adopted a Dinosaur. So much cooler."

#Another Crossover!#ridersoftheapocalypse #Glad to collab with her once again!#Leere #Covarog #Zarazu #Zizi #Zolori #Zelgan Family

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sayitaintdoe · 6 years ago

Text

contrary to popular belief, the tanner family in full house did not live in the painted ladies — the, like, really famous townhomes that they show in the background during the end of the title credits. the seven sisters, postcard row, the painted ladies, whatever you wanna call it, is one of the most famous neighborhoods in san francisco, and it is also the one i usually lied and told everyone during elementary school that i grew up in.

i didn’t. i lived in a townhouse, it had a similar all-stacked-together and squished-between-two-other-houses vibe, but it didn’t look like any place that jesse katsopolis would call home. so literally what even was the point?

(unrelated, i made preston dress up as jesse once for halloween in the seventh grade. i was, in fact, joey and not becky. the more you know!)

the point in all of this, really, is that my mom never left this house. not even when she remarried, and who could blame her, because, like, these houses are worth a small fortune. it’s just, like…

it’s weird, i guess. it’s weird to be in the same house i’ve been in since i was a toddler, and to have someone else in the kitchen. to have different pictures on the wall, some with family members i don’t even know because they’re not my family.

the dude’s nice enough, i guess. definitely tries too hard, but nice. and his daughter is my age, or close to it, but i’ve never cared enough to double check on that one. she’s one of those girls who’s kind of a walking “felt cute, might delete later” who never actually deletes later (respect). i don’t think she likes me, which is fair, because i tend to have that effect on people anyway.

right now, i’m perched at a barstool at my mom’s kitchen island, twirling a straw around one of those green smoothie nightmares instagram is always raving about that tastes like kale and chalk to pretend that i’m actually drinking it. last year, my mom and paul, stepfather extraordinaire, decided that since they’re not going to live forever, they might as well make the remainder of their lives miserable by drinking the cast of veggie tales every morning. and today, i got to join in on the fun.

always a pleasure to visit. always a pleasure.

“i usually toss mine in the sink when they’re not looking — but, like, a quarter at a time. that way i’m not making it too obvious, you know?” i look to my left, and summer, daughter of paul, stepsister of doe and sol, has slid onto the stool next to mine. she has a sheen to her cheeks that looks like a fresh highlight but is probably just sweat, and her strawberry hair is combed back into a loose braid. but she’s cute. i guess.

sol, my younger brother, practically shit himself when he first met her and then the process repeated itself when he realized he was going to get to live with her after she moved back home when she graduated from berkeley back in june.

“i don’t want to give them the satisfaction of thinking i drank it at all,” i retort, giving the glass in front of me a disdained look. “some drinks just… don’t need to exist. this is one of them. and they need to now that this is one mistake that doesn’t need repeating.”

my phone lights up from where it’s sitting next to me on the counter, a text from preston — all in caps — about how kat clearly hates his new mix because it was “marked as read” over a week ago and SOS RESPOND IMMEDIATELY — and i catch summer gazing over at the screen from out of the corner of my eye before i can turn off my screen.

“so,” she hums. “preston, eh? i saw your little… date the other night online.”

i shrug in that way that i tend to do, all flouncy and dismissive, like i’m used to being the center of everyone’s attention — because i am, because of course i am. “yeah, we finally decided to take it to the next level, i guess.”

she sighs, then, resting her head in her hands and keeping her gaze focused on the subzero fridge in front of her. “i always thought he was so cute. i guess it’s a good thing you guys figured it out before i snatched him from you.” she giggles.

yeah. because i was so threatened by you, summer. jesus.

a tight-lipped smile is all i give her back, feeling my best tighten into a knot, but just for a second, before my mom is looping around the corner, arms waving.

“why were you hiding preston from me? you know how much we love him. he’s like another member of the family, dorothea.”

“ma.”

summer chokes on her own green drink. “dorothea? can i start calling you dory? dorothy? dottie? do—”

“—i will pour this on your head if anything other than doe comes out of that pretty mouth of yours.”

“she means it.” this time, it’s sol. his head is popping up from where he’s lounging back on the couch, a head of unruly, dark curls. even sitting on the couch, he’s still a foot taller than me. he always has been, ever since he was turning ten shortly after my thirteenth birthday. the kid is fucking crazy. “she dumped lime kool-aid over the back of my head once when i was sleeping. mixed with a little bleach powder? shit fucking turned my hair neon ass green for weeks. all over calling her dory on my first day of freshman year.”

“because it’s doe.” i turn back to summer, smile still tight-lipped as ever. “just doe.”

my mom is clearing her throat, drawing the attention back to herself, and i turn to see her tapping her fingers on the edge of the countertop, head tilted to the side with eyes wide and expectant and right on me. “back to preston, doe.”

“there’s nothing back to preston about it,” i shrug. “it just… happened.”

“it just happened?! we’ve only been waiting and WAITING for you two…” her thoughts trail off for a moment, which they’ve been doing more and more lately, before she looks over at summer. “oh summer. you should have seen these two growing up.”

“be glad you didn’t,” sol fires back, and i chuck a bran muffin from the basket straight at him, hitting him square in the temple.

my phone goes off again, but this time it’s ringing, and it’s preston’s face filling my screen and looking right back at me. i grab it without thinking twice about it, and from next to me, summer is sighing, almost dreamily.

“god, i love a good love story.”

i snort, picking up the phone and answering. “then go find one,” i tell her.

“go find one what?” preston asks, and i can see the way his brows are furrowed, his mop of hair not cooperating at all. his lips are perfectly kissable, and being halfway across san francisco seems really, really far away all of a sudden.

“oh nothing, nothing at all,” i hum, sashaying into the living room and dropping onto the chaise lounge across from sol. “what’s up, love? missing me already?”

he’s blushing. i love that i can make him blush. he might want to leave me for dead half the time, but i can still turn his cheeks pink. “how’s home?”

“i don’t know,” i shrug. “how are you?”

sol’s head pops up for that one, looking across at me in awe. see? fake dating is easy. it’s almost like it’s not fake at all.

#011 #~

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thechreviewer · 7 years ago

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God’s Not Dead?: Why Faith-Based Films Can’t Find Their Footing

This weekend sees the release of God’s Not Dead: A Light In Darkness, the third and final film in the God’s Not Dead franchise that started with the surprise success of the original film in 2014 that grossed $60 million domestically on a $2 million budget. Though faith-based films have been around since the early twentieth century, a new type of religious film-making seemed to emerge after God’s Not Dead, or at least gained in popularity: low-budget films that overly dramatized the religion. Just last year, nine faith-based films were released in wide or semi-wide release (and living in Arkansas, every one of them came to my surrounding theaters), though not all of them followed the same formula as God’s Not Dead. Nor were all of them as successful at the box office. And as we have seen this year, that outlook isn’t getting any better, as three of the four faith-based films continue the streak of under-performing domestically, including the third installment of the God’s Not Dead, tracking only for a $3 million opening weekend. So are these films performing poorly to their demographic? As a religious individual who loves films, I’m here to explain what these films can do to become relevant again:

Don’t Become Too Preachy:

Saying a faith-based film shouldn’t include dialogue and messages relating to the religion they’re portraying may sound ridiculous, but preaching to a choir already in agreement will do nothing but alienate them. Having characters speak a sermon every time they’re on screen does little in the way of make sense or interest the existing fan base and those the film is arguably not made for. Personally I know some who ONLY go to these sorts of films, yet more recently have been warded off knowing they’re going to see the same bible verses spoken in scenarios that make little sense, with characters that become caricatures of the Christian faith. Some period films, such as Son of God (2014), get leeway because this is how they talked, however, even these films make point of only highlighting the religious side of the argument.

Unrealistic Characters, Scenarios, and Stories:

Piggy-backing on sermons in every piece of dialogue, many of these religious films honestly fail in providing both realistic stories presented in a realistic way. The entirety of the second God’s Not Dead film revolves around a story concerning attack against Christianity. In Arkansas. And being from a town in Arkansas that once held the record for most churches per square mile, I can tell you such an event would NEVER happen. The belief that any sort of persecution against Christians occurs in 21st century United States is laughable and conspiratorial. Professors aren’t going to fail you for believing God exists (God’s Not Dead), nor is the church going to turn on you for admitting amazing occurrences related to God (Miracles From Heaven). And again, no characters are as ‘devote’ as these films portray them as in present day. And by the way, teachers know they can’t talk about their personal religion in school, but officials aren’t going after them in the same way as in God’s Not Dead 2.

Many Films in This Genre is Just Bad:

The God’s Not Dead films are terrible. Many of the cheap period films are just boring. These low-budget faith-based films are mostly just not great, which no matter how devote you are is going to turn you off after a while. Many of the films set in present day are pretty bad for the reasons previously mentioned, while the period films just do not commit to their source material. Turning the story of Samson into a PG-13 film was never going to be embraced. Many of the stories fail to consider these period films need the ugliness from the actual stories, including the sex, violence, and the actual sinful actions. These films are made for cheap and they feel cheap because usually the people in front and behind the camera have no vision beyond exaggerating the ‘faith’ part of the faith-based films.

How Can Faith-Based Films Be Saved:

Though I seem to really be down on this genre, this genre is technically in trouble. Since 2014, there have usually been one or two faith-based films that can get actual good reviews and/or have a good box office run (which usually means getting over about $10 million domestically). And those films are the ones we should be leaning into more. My two favorite examples are The Star from last year and the recent I Can Only Imagine. Last year’s The Star was an animated film that focused on the animals around the birth of Jesus. While the film was only OK, it did remind me of the Veggie Tales films that are so popular for younger children, and honestly its much better than most generic religious films released in the past few years. The other example is I Can Only Imagine, which is blowing up the box office with $48 million domestically so far on a $7 million budget. The film revolves around arguably the most popular Christian rock song and has clearly struck a cord with both devote audiences and those just fans of the song. It also helps that even critics like it well enough. The point is, making movies that only revolve around boring period dramas and unrealistic present pieces are not the ones making the money right now.

More so, just making a good film should always be on the forefront of people’s minds, and to do that you need good directors and good actors in these films. I like Miracles From Heaven well enough only because Jennifer Garner is great in it. All Saints, which did not do great numbers last year, was good because John Corbett was the lead. The Everly Brothers who directed I Can Only Imagine also made the religious-sports drama film Woodlawn, which was also pretty good. The idea that making these films for little money doesn’t work when you have actors in them that plainly are good, or uninspired directors behind the camera.

So in conclusion, this is not a hit-piece on religious filmography nor the Christian religion. Nor am I attacking those who actually enjoy films like War Room and the God’s Not Dead trilogy. But assuming these films are actually good and help turning others to God is hilarious. These films remind me when I was in college and the student ministry would send student pastors around to probe kids sitting by themselves in public. One time they came to me, a devote Christian, and attempted to reaffirm my faith. For thirty minutes. With the usual bible verses and decently drawn pictures and graphs. And when they left me, I honestly felt less forgiving to my faith. This is how these films leave me and many others. And while films like I Can Only Imagine, The Star, and Risen (one of the better period films) do give me some basic hope, faith-based films are in troubled water with little relief in sight.

#ICanOnlyImagine #GodsNotDead #AllSaints #WarRoom #TheStar #Woodlawn #ReligiousFilm #jennifergarner #EverlyBrothers #JohnCorbett #christianity #FilmReview #VeggieTales #SonofGod #LightInDarkness #Samson #CHreviewer

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chickenkooks · 7 years ago

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the noisy neighbors [m]

❛❛i live in a house full of stupid men and their dirty underwear except there is an angel in their midst and he cleans up after himself and does everyone’s laundry and we share the same neighbor who likes to have wild sex every night and the hot boy hates confrontation but i guess not when his dick is in my vagina❜❜ AU

COUNT → 7.143

GENRE → smut

PAIRING → jinyoung | reader

note → this is for my friend @loljinyoungie because it’s her birthday today!!!! birthday smut!!!! so if ur reading this. please feel free to send her a birthday message :-D i hope u like this smut though!!!!! i told you i would finish it!!!!!!!!! a little later than i planned but oH WELL HAVE AT ALL YOUR KINKS I HOPE I DID THEM JUSTICE. AND IF I SPELLED HIS NAME “JIMYOUNG” ANYWHERE IM GONNA BE SO MAD IDK WHY THAT IS EVEN A THING THAT HAPPENS

You really hated the fact that you were such a light sleeper.

One of your favorite sounds in the world was nothing. That's not to say you didn't have a favorite sound, but that your favorite sound was literally nothing. Nothing was the sound of a cool breeze blowing against your house's exterior. Or maybe it was even the sound of rain dripping from your roof outside your window—sounds like those.

Nothing was white noise, but it also sounded cooler to say nothing rather than that.

However, the sound of bodies thudding into the wall next to you? That was definitely not white noise.

Your walls were thin. And it just so happened that the wall your bed was propped against was the same wall that your viagra housemate liked to frequent with his dick rammed in something—usually some girl's poor vagina. And it was never her who was loud, always him. He moaned and cursed and grunted very violently that sometimes you worried for her safety—or all of their safety if it was more than one girl. Still, this happened every single night.

It was like he had to have his dick in something every day that you kind of worried about him, too.

And it was never at the same time either. Sometimes, he liked to start the day off with his dick sucked. You know, that's reasonable because once you were asleep, you were fucking asleep and not even his low grunts could wake your slumber. It was like you were a vampire or something, except you did enjoy garlic bread from time to time.

Why don't you just move your bed?

A good question.

Though, why the fuck should you have to take the time out of your day to move around your prehistoric mattress and bedframe just so that you could fucking go to sleep? You were stubborn—you could admit that. He should have the good human fucking decency to not fucking wake up the entire house with his weird sex noises.

Or maybe you hadn't gotten laid for a long time and this was something that made you bitter.

Maybe you were bitter. He was getting laid every fucking night and there you were watching Veggie Tales while eating a salad because... cannibalism. That could be it but you also weren't the only person in your house who hated him. In fact, your other housemate on the opposite side of his room was actually just as peeved as you.

Jinyoung was his name.

Except Jinyoung didn't like to complain.

When you met him—and everyone else living in the house—he was the one who kept to himself. He made polite conversation and listened when you complained that hail was an abomination to weather, but he never really volunteered any complaints of his own. Maybe he didn't like you and thought you were a freak for hating hail when you could be spending your time doing something productive, but then he asked to use your toaster oven the day after because his broke. And that's what got you talking—not every day, though. Jinyoung wasn't home often—he worked in some office downtown. In fact, Jinyoung was hardly ever home at a reasonable time either.

But he always came back just when the guy sandwiched between your rooms started getting jiggy with it.

That was a reference that he was fucking someone without having to say that.

Sitting straight up in bed, your feet eased into your slippers beside your bedside table, storming out your bedroom door and into the main upstairs hallway so you could make him shut up already. This wasn't the first time you'd done this and it sure as fuck wouldn't be the last; he just never got the message. You would say, "Kindly shut up, you insignificant pest," and he would say, "Sure thing, Cantaloupe. Sorry about all the noise. I'll be quiet."

Cantaloupe wasn't even your fucking name—or a name at all—so you had no idea where he got that from.

It was like his fucking ears were made out of cantaloupes.

You squinted as you closed your door and listened with a twitching eyebrow as you could hear his headboard slamming against the wall. You'd just been innocently laying in your bed for the past few hours reading when suddenly there were sex noises and you wanted to fling yourself out your open bedroom window.

Just as you went to knock violently on his door, you heard the front door opening and footsteps up the stairs.

"Oh," Jinyoung said as soon as he saw you, loosening his suit's tie. "Hey."

Your cheeks heated as you glanced down at what you were wearing—a skimpy white tank top and a pair of pajama bottoms with illustrations of morbidly obese cats decorating the fabric. You crossed your arms over your chest in an 'x' formation as you turned around, smiling at him awkwardly. He gave your body a once over, then snorted.

"What keeps you up at this late hour, Cantaloupe?"

You rolled your eyes. Park Jinyoung thought he was funny.

"Ha-ha," you replied, monotonously. "You're hilarious."

Remembering why you were in the hallway being teased by Jinyoung, you looked back at the door and listened for a moment for any more noises coming from within his room. When there was a crash inside, there was suddenly an incomprehensible shout about how his dead grandma bought him that vase and then something else.

If it was incomprehensible, how did you know that?

You were able to make out a few words—that's how.

"Ah. He's making his noises again tonight, huh?"

"Yes, so if you'll excuse me—"

You went to knock on his door when Jinyoung suddenly reached out, grasping your wrist so it hung mid-air. You glanced over your shoulder at him then, furrowing your eyebrows just as he slowly let go.

Jinyoung had this thing where he hated confrontation, you remembered.

"Jinyoung," you huffed out. "If I don't say something, he'll just—"

"I know but surely he's almost done by now."

"Well, I need to say something."

Jinyoung sighed. "He hasn't listened to anything you've said to him before. What makes now any different?"

"So you want me to just walk to my room like a sissy when I could easily just knock on his door?"

"I just think there are better ways you can go about this. It'll just cause a disruption."

Your eyes bulged at that, jaw dropping. "And his weird sex noises won't?!"

Jinyoung paused, glancing at the door and you both listened again.

"See," he said. "He's done now. It's fine. Just go to sleep."

You tongued your cheek. "You have to live with him too, you know?"

"I know," he replied, solemnly. "Now... go to sleep, Cantaloupe."

And then you two parted ways to your separate rooms.

It was a week after that. Since it was summer, you basically just lounged around the house doing nothing but eating your weight in potato chips. You did have a part-time job but just not during the weekends, which coincidentally was when Jinyoung actually came home for an entire hour for his lunch break.

You didn't know why he didn't just eat out in the city but you weren't about to question it.

He always cleaned up after himself, picking up other people's messes. You hated that part of him because people should clean up their own messes. That's why the planet was doomed—because no one wants to clean up after themselves or leave it how they found it. Although he kept to himself, he was the glue that held you all together.

Walking into the kitchen, you saw him with his sleeves rolled up and holding a sponge, doing the dishes. Opening the wooden cabinets, you pulled out a box of mac and cheese, then looked for your pot to start boiling the water.

"Hey, Jinyoung," you began. "Have you seen my pot? I usually put it up here."

Your eyes fell onto the pot sitting at the oven at the same time—the dirty pot.

"You're fucking kidding me," you grumbled, stomping over to it.

Someone had decided to use your pot and then not clean up after themselves. And who the fuck heats up spaghettios in a fucking pan anyway? Why not just put it in a bowl and into the microwave? That's easier.

"The same person who left their dirty dishes in the sink," Jinyoung said after a moment.

For the first time, you looked closer at whose dishes Jinyoung was scrubbing at.

"Jinyoung, don't you have to eat still? Aren't you on your lunch break?"

"Yes, but I can't make anything with a dirty sink," he answered.

You sighed. "I can't stand him. Here... I'll help you."

Gently, you nudged his hip with yours, jostling him out of the way. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head, then grabbed one of the towels hanging on a nearby hook to wipe his hands as he observed you cleaning the dishes.

"God... I just can't believe him. He really doesn't care about anyone but himself."

"I'm sure he just... forgot..." Jinyoung mumbled, placing his hands on the edge of the sink.

"No. He did it on purpose, same with using my pan..." you grumbled.

Jinyoung then moved to grab your pot, turning the faucet on as you scrubbed at a large plate caked in pasta sauce, and went to soak it. As he went to work, you observed his side profile. He sure was handsome and you remembered how you wanted to ask him if he was single the moment you met.

A handsome guy like him had to have a girlfriend or something.

"What?" he asked, pausing mid-scrub when he caught you.

"Nothing," you quickly replied, turning back to the sink.

"No," he said, putting the pot in the isnk. "What is it?"

You shook your head. "It's nothing... You're just..."

Staring off into space, you looked back at him with a smile.

"You're just really handsome is all. I hope you know that."

Looking away from you, he blushed. "Thanks."

Stumbling, he reached forward and accidentally switched the faucet onto the setting where it sprayed water in tiny streams instead and then disconnected it from the sink. It landed upside down and caused water to completely soak both your shirts. You let out a shriek as you stepped back, the plate falling into the sink then.

"I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed and you looked at him in surprise, then down at your shirt.

You could see through it entirely, showing off your bra and your piercing nipples.

And then he handed you the towel beside the sink to cover yourself.

"They're just boobies, Jinyoung," you teased but he didn't turn around.

Snorting, you tossed the towel onto the counter and left the kitchen. Glancing back at him one more time as you gripped onto the staircase railing, you observed him scrubbing furiously at your pot with tinted cheeks.

A few days after that incident, you came storming out of your room to your neighbor having sex once again.

The annoying, not hot one. It wasn't Jinyoung having sex.

"Jinyoung?" you called, knocking on his door.

Your neighbor was playing music to cover up whatever he was doing, but you could still fucking hear him. How could he be so oblivious to how loud he was? Did he just fuck girls who really knew how to use their mouths?

Maybe you should ask for their phone numbers.

"Come in," he yelled over the music.

Stomping in, you slammed the door behind you. Although you'd been in his room a few times, it was always rearranged a different way each time. You did notice that Jinyoung was an extreme perfectionist.

"You hear that, right?" you asked, crossing your arms.

"Yeah. And I'm trying to study, too..." Jinyoung grumbled.

"I can't believe him. What if I was trying to sleep?"

You paced around his room, letting out an occasional growl as the song ended and there was an awkward pause. Jinyoung's head came up just as there was a loud crashing sound and moan from the other side of the wall.

Jinyoung snorted. "You? Sleeping before two in the morning?"

"Okay. Fine... Maybe I wasn't but still—"

"You can stay here, if you want."

"Really? I won't bother you?"

"No. I'm done anyway."

Jinyoung leant back into his desk chair, closing his book with a gentle slam before standing up to put it away on his large bookshelf. After a moment, he walked over to his bed and settled against it, still in his work clothes. The TV had still been playing even when you walked in, so you guessed he'd been trying to mask the music and sex.

You followed him to his bed, sitting beside him gingerly.

"So—" you started to say when a sex scene came on.

The two actors on the screen immediately began undressing and you hesitantly looked over at Jinyoung, who was trying to decide whether to act natural or look away—because what do you even do in that situation? A sex scene makes things awkward no matter what. You could pretend all you wanted that it wasn't awkward—but it was.

"S-So... What were you studying for?"

"My accounting exam," he replied.

"Really? You have to study for that?"

There were now both sex noises from the TV and the room next door. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jinyoung fidgeting, scratching at his chin nervously as he avoided looking straight at the television screen.

You grabbed the remote then, turning the volume to drown out the noises from your neighbor.

As you could still hear him, however, you stomped towards the door to tell him to shut up.

Jinyoung followed after you, grabbing a hold of your elbow out of nowhere, but that just caused you to trip on one of his shoes—and where did that even come from because his room was spotless—and the two of you came crashing down on his hardwood floor with Jinyoung under you. He stared at you with wide eyes then.

The front of your pants was pressed especially hard against him and you felt something.

"Jinyoung..." you breathed out.

He blinked, then asked, "Yes?"

"I have this crazy idea."

Jinyoung didn't have much time to think before your lips came crashing down on his.

His lips were so soft, like kissing a cloud from how moist they were, but he was still beneath your crushing mouth. His arms laid unmoving at his sides, not even moving to touch you with the tip of his finger. And after you unconsciously began to swirl your hips and grind into him powerfully, he groaned into your mouth.

"Touch me," you said, pulling away briefly to give him time to speak.

Instead of saying anything, he just stared at you in muted surprise.

"Touch me, Jinyoung," you said again, grabbing at his limp hands.

You brought them to touch your covered breasts but he didn't move an inch, didn't even glance down at your breasts on full display—just kept looking at you and occasionally down at your lips as you exhaled shakily.

When his palm gave a slight, hesitant squeeze, you knew you had him.

You threw yourself back into him, kissing him as hard as you could to elicit any sort of reaction out of him, and he finally responded. Starting with returning it, he eventually licked at your lips and his hands drifted away from your breasts to grab your hips, then finally wrapping around your waist to crush you more into his hard, defined chest.

The voices from the actors on screen as they had a passionate get-together with their genitals faded into the background, as well as the sounds coming from the opposite side of the wall. Right then, it was just you and Jinyoung as you kissed and touched each other so intimately you felt your hairs sticking up. He was always out of your reach—so far away—either physically or emotionally. You thought he was unavailable, three years older than you and in grad school already while you were still taking gen ed classes. That's what you thought, but as he licked the seam of your lips and thrusted his tongue inside your mouth, he felt touchable for the first time—reachable.

His hands trailed back to your waist before flipping the two of you over until you flat on your back. Even with the sex scene on the television screen long over as new actors took up their own screentime, you didn't tell him to stop—not even when you heard nothing from the adjacent bedroom, too. It was that familiar white noise.

But you didn't like to sound of nothing as Jinyoung stared down at you, hesitantly.

You wanted to hear something. You wanted to hear anything—and from him.

You weaved your fingers into his black hair, pulling him down until your lips connected once again, which coaxed him to relax and touch you again. His hips moved against yours as you ground into each other—sensually. When his hardening length brushed against one specific spot, you moaned out loudly, and he pulled away from you.

"Don't stop," you told him desperately, fingers still clinging on to his hair.

When he didn't budge, you sat up slowly, furrowing your eyebrows. He moved away from you to give you room, as if you were about to tell him you changed your mind, but then you pushed him with the tips of your fingers so he was on his back. He didn't make a move to sit up and you took that as a sign to work on undoing his belt's buckle.

He didn't even try to stop you as you pulled at his work pants, just watched you with half-lidded eyes.

"Is this okay?" you asked, glancing down at his cock through his briefs.

"Yeah..." he answered, swallowing thickly.

Getting his consent, you watched him carefully but reached into his underwear for his cock, surprised at the size as you blinked in a daze. Just as he was looking like he was about to change his mind, you leant over him and your mouth sank down on him. Immediately, he felt how warm your mouth was and you didn't take your eyes off him—not even for one second. Your tongue swirled around him, licking at every inch of him you could. He didn't entirely fit in your mouth, so whatever didn't fit you just stroked with your balled up fist. His head fell back against the floor with a thud as he groaned out loudly. His eyes snapped open at that, looking at his bedroom wall.

"W-Wait—" he started to say, but you didn't stop.

Instead, your grip on him tightened as you went even faster, pulling him farther into your mouth until you felt the tip hit the back of your throat, pausing for a moment and wincing at the unpleasant feeling as you swallowed around him. His hands didn't know where to go, from laying at his sides to pulling at his tailored suit.

You didn't really know why he wore his work clothes for so long, even after he came home.

"Fuck..." he grunted, one of his hands cupping the back of your head.

You'd never heard him curse before and you could feel yourself getting wet just at the sound of it, and then began to bob on his dick even faster, your eyes watering slightly. Jinyoung started to unconsciously thrust into your mouth then, his hips raising off the floor each time, and you welcomed it, trying to take all of him.

"Shit!" he cried out as you swallowed around him again.

Pulling him completely out of your mouth, you used your tongue to lick at the slit, running a wet strip from the base of his cock all the way to the underside of his tip, leaving a stream of saliva behind. He observed you with half-lidded eyes before his head fell back again, not being able to take the sight of you looking at him like that.

"Shit... You're so good at this... Fuck... I'm going to cum."

You pulled your mouth away and just sat on your heels, watching him come undone just from you stroking him in a blurred movement of your fist. However, before he even came, he frantically told you to stop.

"Jinyoung..." you started to say, slowing your pace slightly.

"No, I mean it... I don't want..." he trailed off. "I don't want him to hear me."

"He wants us to hear him, though. And plus, you sound so hot anyway..."

"Fuck..." he said at your words. "I'm— Fu—ck. I'm—"

"Cum in my mouth."

You descended your mouth back on him as you continued to stroke him frantically. He didn't seem to hear you—or at least didn't respond—but spurts of his cum came firing into your mouth until he was laying there like a worm.

His head thudded against the floor after, smiling slightly to himself, but then remembered you.

"No, it's okay," you said, knowing what he was thinking. "I think he's done now, so thanks."

"Wait— What about you—"

"You just owe me one."

And then you left.

"Hey."

You looked to the open doorway of your bedroom to see it was Jinyoung. Still in his work clothes, you laughed to yourself. He wore that suit so often that you thought it was just another layer of his skin.

Good thing he looked hot in a suit.

"Hey," you replied, putting down your book beside you on the bed.

You sat up as he looked around your bedroom, admiring some of the paintings you had hanging on the wall and your calendar beside the door that had a different cat for each month, the dates decorated with cat ears.

"Can I join you?" he asked after a moment, closing the door behind him.

"Sure," you said, sitting up. "What's up?"

"Well..." By the color of crimson his ears turned, you knew it had to be about what happened the other day on his bedroom floor—the whole his dick in your mouth thing. "I just— I felt bad about— You know... So, I— Uh..."

"You want to pay me back?"

"Yeah. Is that okay?"

You bit your lip and nodded.

Kicking his shoes off by your door, he walked over to your bed. It creaked beneath his weight as he sat down and then he turned to you, just staring at you for a moment before he went to loosen his tie around his neck.

"Did you just get back from work?" you asked, watching him undress.

Jinyoung nodded. "Yeah. Five minutes ago."

"So... were you thinking about this all day?"

"It might've crossed my mind once or twice."

Your head fell back as you laughed. "That's hot."

His knees pressed them into the mattress when he started to move towards you, his tie long forgotten in a heap on your rug. Watching him carefully, you lowered yourself onto your back until he was hovering over you.

"Is our favorite neighbor here?" he asked lowly, his lips inches from yours.

"I don't think so. It's quiet, so that's how I know he's gone."

"Good. That means you can be as loud as you want."

"Ooh, spicy..." you said, waggling your eyebrows.

"Take off your pants," he instructed.

"Why can't you do it for me?"

"I'm about to do a lot for you."

Raising an eyebrow, you did as he said and pulled at your denim shorts. He couldn't wait, though, and helped you tug them the rest of the way down your legs as you raised your hips, flinging them somewhere behind him.

Next was your underwear but surprisingly, when you went to remove them, he stopped you.

"Not yet."

His mouth came crashing down on yours, smothering your lips with his own. At first, the kiss was fast and messy, your tongues colliding together in a frenzy, but then he was pulling away from you to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your lips, to your jaw, to your neck, before finally landing on your chest from your low-cut shirt.

Your hands came to crush his mouth to your chest when he just looked at the soft fabric of your shirt, leaving wet spots where he bit and nipped over your covered nipples. You cried out then, arching your back into his mouth.

He raised an eyebrow and took you rubbing your legs together as a sign for him to take it farther.

Crawling down your body, he stopped until his head was between your legs, kissing at your inner thighs and biting and sucking at the skin there until you were marked in blotches of purple and red. One of his fingers played with the band of your underwear, snapping it against your skin teasingly, and you exhaled shakily.

"I didn't know you were such a tease..." you said, smiling with your eyes closed.

"It's no fun when you get your way, though."

And then he fingered at your underwear again, lifting it up and pushing it to the side so he could cup you. Just from the pads of his fingers touching you there, he could feel how wet you were—and all because of him.

"You're making this too easy."

His middle finger slowly eased into your entrance, stroking at your walls gently as he pumped in and out of you. His thumb then came to press down on your clit and you moaned out, a scalding sensation shooting straight into your lower stomach. He took that as another good sign and then inserted his forefinger into you, his fingers thrusting in and out of you at a faster pace with each drawn out moan and each wiggle of your hips. Eventually, he had to use the hand pulling your underwear back to still your hips and the soaked fabric came to rest on the back of his hand.

Unconsciously, you moved away from him and so he pulled his fingers out of you. You opened your eyes then, looking up at him as he sucked each finger into his mouth, licking off your wetness. Feeling faint, you sighed to yourself, wiggling your hips again and clenching your walls around nothing in anticipation. It was nice to be fingered and it was even better to cum, but you wanted to cum on his dick—you wanted to cum on it now.

"Jinyoung," you breathed out. "I want you."

"You can't have me," he answered. "Not yet."

"Well, why the fuck not?!" you yelled, sitting up on your elbows.

He couldn't answer because then the two of you heard loud, thunderous footsteps up the stairs and the bedroom door next to yours slamming shut. You listened and signed internally as you heard a female voice giggling and then a gruff male one, the bed creaking as you assumed they were both lying in his bed now.

"Great..." you mumbled to yourself, bending over your bed to look for your pants.

"No," Jinyoung said. "It's okay. I want to keep going. Is that okay?"

You looked back at him and nodded, surprised.

This wasn't like him at all. Jinyoung had never once brought a girl over—never. You knew he had sex but he never had sex here, and that was because he was so self-conscious. So, it was very surprising he wanted to keep going.

He pulled your underwear completely off that time, following your pants and landing somewhere behind him.

Jinyoung didn't waste any time and immediately ducked his head and flicked at your clit with his tongue, causing you to cry out. The giggling stopped in the other room and you placed a hand over your mouth, looking at him.

Time stood still as you two waited for them to resume and they did—after a painfully long sixty seconds.

"Be quiet," he whispered and then went back to pressing kisses to your clit.

He inserted his finger again, using his thumbs to separate your folds and you clenched your hand into a fist against your mouth, breathing heavily. Instead of how he was taking his time before, he was rushing things.

"Jinyoung," you said. "It's okay. I'll be quiet. Just slow down."

He nodded, pulling his fingers out of you.

Then replaced them with his mouth.

"Fuck..." you said, softly.

"Feel good?" he whispered back.

You nodded, head falling back and hand slamming against your mouth as he thrusted his tongue inside of you. His nose brushed against your clit and you breathed out of your nose slowly, trying to contain yourself. Then one of his hands pulled away and his thumb came against your clit again, circling it wildly when he lowered his head to bring his nose away. Your juices coated his chin as he started to wildly lick and kiss at your inner walls, then brought his mouth away to watch you, inserting his fingers again. His knuckles brushed against you as he went deeper and deeper before he felt around for that special spot—then found it easily, smiling to himself at your reaction.

Red hot in the face, sweat lining your brow, gasping for air—you were a mess for him.

You could barely contain yourself then and you reached behind you for your pillow, smothering your face.

"Jinyoung!" you screamed through the pillow but he kept going. "Oh, god... Oh, god. I'm going to— I'm—"

The two of you hadn't even noticed the talking stopped again before you moaned into the pillow loudly, hips rising as you came roughly around his fingers. He helped you ride out your orgasm, slowing his pace but not stopping.

Your hips came down to rest on the mattress again and you sighed—you were laying there like a worm now.

"How was that?" he asked, pleased with himself.

"Good god... So good... Wow. You're so good with—"

He chuckled. "Thanks. I owed you one, though."

You smiled up at him, then pushed yourself up to sit beside him, nudging your shoulder with his as you smiled to yourself. If this was him paying you back for sucking his dick, you wondered how he fucked with that dick.

"But that doesn't mean I don't owe you one."

"No, no, no. You don't owe me anything."

"Maybe not. But I still want you to fuck me."

Jinyoung looked at the wall behind you then, shaking his head. Pouting, you nodded, understanding that maybe all this was just him returning the favor, not meaning he was interested in you like that at all.

"We can't..." he whispered.

"It's okay, but why not?"

"We can't right now. Later."

"Okay, but I hope you really mean later."

He nodded. "Later. Really, really later."

And then he walked out of your room.

After Jinyoung left, your neighbor took that as a sign to fuck his girlfriend.

How nice for the both of them. For her to have a penis in her, not that you could relate.

It'd been at least seven hours now and you didn't even know if Jinyoung was still in the house. He walked on light feet, so you never heard him walking around, so he could've easily left to go somewhere. Maybe he left to fuck someone else since you were pretty sure he got a massive boner. And yet, he didn't want to fuck you.

Later, he said.

When was that? Maybe you should've discussed that properly so you would know when that even was.

Angry and sex-deprived, you stomped out of your room after hearing the annoying sound of your neighbor snoring after a long, torturous hour and a half, and into the kitchen. A glass of cold water would calm down your temper, so you reached into the cabinet to grab one of your glasses, reaching into the freezer for some ice cubes. You struggled to even get the cubes out of the tray, however, and contemplated slamming it on the countertop.

A touch on your shoulder, though, startled you and you accidentally slammed the tray on the countertop anyway.

"It's okay!" they said, the warm voice familiar. "It's me. It's Jinyoung."

Closing your eyes in relief, you placed a hand over your beating heart and then turned around to look at him.

"And where have you been?" you asked, teasingly, with an eyebrow raised.

Though, you also really wanted to know the answer to that, too.

"My room. Why did it take you seven hours to leave?"

"What? Were you waiting for me or something?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I didn't want to... in your room."

Your mouth fell open as you felt like a fucking idiot.

It was kind of obvious, now that you thought about it.

"Sorry... I didn't— Well, I'm here now, so do your worst."

One corner of his lips tilted up at that, and then he looked around the kitchen. When his eyes fell on the dining room table, he grinned and tugged your hand to follow him. You set your glass down on the counter, already feeling that familiar excitement bubble inside of you at the thought of what he was going to do to you.

If his fingers made you feel that good, you couldn't even imagine what his dick would feel like.

"Lay on the table."

You hopped up on the table just as he asked, then laid down, already reaching for your pants, but he slapped your hand away. Cradling your hands to your chest, you snorted at the impatient look on his face.

"I didn't say to take off your clothes," he teased, tugging at the band.

"Okay but... What's so different about here? They'll still probably hear us."

"You're probably right. It's a good thing I don't care. Do you?"

Then why didn't you just come back? you asked no one in particular.

Oh, well.

"Hell no. Fuck me, Jinyoung."

"I will. Just be patient."

You growled out, frustrated.

"Come on. You don't need to finger me when you just did that seven hours ago—"

"I know but I want to," he said, then pulled at the band of your pants again.

From over the top of his head, you carefully watched the staircase, listening for any sounds that weren't muffled snores from your neighbor's bedroom. If he came downstairs, he'd have a good view of your pussy.

"He's not going to come down here. Relax."

Just as his finger entered you, you said, "Wait. Can I try something first?"

He nodded, pulling away from you and you sat up, hopping off the table. Kneeling before him, you unbuttoned his pants quickly—and struggled for a moment—and pulled him out of his underwear, licking your lips nervously.

"I want you to fuck my mouth," you told him.

"What?" he asked, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"All right."

You gripped him at the base and slowly wrapped your lips around him, then relaxed your mouth as you closed your eyes. Biting into his lip, Jinyoung anxiously gripped the back of your head to get a good hold on you and weaved his fingers into your hair. You seemed to like that, though, when you moaned around his length.

And when you nodded, he took that as the signal and thrusted into your mouth.

Your eyes watered as he fucked your mouth, wincing but loving every second. When his fingers tugged at your hair, nearly pulling the strands right out of their roots, you moaned around him again and he groaned at that.

You swallowed around him, eliciting him to go faster, fuck your throat harder—and he did. His hips moved back and forth wildly as he frantically rammed his cock into you. With each thrust, you had to keep yourself still and relax your throat, feeling it becoming sore but it was worth it. Your hands felt his thighs, nails digging into the soft fabric of his work pants that he never took off for some reason—when suddenly he pulled out of you.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to cum," he explained, gasping for air. "Your turn."

You nodded and laid back down on the table. It was as if him nearly reaching his orgasm made him even more impatient and he tugged at your underwear so roughly that the material stretched, but you didn't yell at him.

In fact, you found the whole thing incredibly hot.

He fell to his knees and immediately started an intense pace with his fingers inside of you, easing in and out at a frantic speed while he tried to stretch you out as much as possible. Your toes curled at the sensation and he watched you carefully, smiling as your eyes closed and mouth dropped open. If possible, his fingers thrusted into you even faster, so fast that you could almost imagine they were his dick—except you hoped his dick was bigger.

"Please," you begged, grabbing onto his arm. "Fuck me."

His pace slowed down but he didn't pull out of you, until he pressed down on your clit and your back arched.

"Please! Fuck—please," you cried out.

He nodded quickly, stepping away from you to step out of his pants and completely remove his briefs.

Your eyes fell to him naked from the waist down and you almost drooled, but then he was pulling at your hips so you stood on your feet, then spun you around until your cheek came crashing down on the wooden table.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ye—s."

You were jostled forward as soon as he took that first step—his cock pressing into you so deeply that you couldn't help but groan, your nails clawing into the table. His warm hands held your hips and you knew you wanted nothing more than for him to slap your ass. That's what would get you off. Nothing was hotter than him manhandling you.

"Jinyoung," you gasped out as he kept up a fast pace. "Spank me."

"Spank you? You're into that?"

You nodded into the table.

Hesitating slightly, he did as you asked and brought his hand to slap your ass softly and you moaned softly. He blinked, stopping his thrusts inside of you to do it again—but harder. You clenched your fists as his hand came down on you even harder, feeling the sting that time. Your walls clenched around him then and he groaned.

"You really like this?" he asked.

"Yeah. Just like that."

He paused, then looked around the room for a moment.

You were pulled up abruptly then, your eyes snapping open, as he pulled you over to the living room couch before sitting down, tugging at your hand so you were sitting in his lap but not crushing his dick coated in your wetness.

"Ride me," he told you.

You didn't need to be told twice and slowly gripped him from under you, easing him into you slowly. Both of you moaned out at that and his hand slapped your ass again, slapping you harder each time you pulled yourself up.

"Keep going," he said, massaging your skin.

You nodded and bounced up and down on him even faster, seeking that familiar sting and the feeling of him penetrating you. His head fell against the back of the couch then, moaning loudly as you continued to ride him. Blindly, his free hand reached for you and then the pad of his thumb pressed into your clit, causing you to cry out and ride him even faster—harder—swirling your hips and clenching around him as you chased after your orgasm.

He pulled away from your clit and brought both of his hands to your ass, pulling and grabbing at the flesh there and kneading his knuckles into it. One hand came down on your ass again as the slap sounded around the living room and you clenched around him again, your vision blurring as all you could feel was that spark ignite in you.

On the edge, his hands trailed past your ass until they were gripping the small of your back and flipped you over onto your stomach. Raising your ass in the air, he thrusted into you again and pressed down on the back of your head, your cheek pressing into the couch cushion as he rammed into you.

"J-Jinyoung! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" you cried out, fists clenching.

He reached around you then and squeezed your breasts. With each thrust, they swung forward and he squeezed even harder. You rested your head against the back of your arms, trying to hold on but knowing you were so close to cumming. His dick stroked every inch of you and you knew you were going to be sore after.

"I'm gonna—"

"Cum."

He felt you clench around him one more time as you came, arching your back and then falling limply onto the couch. Jinyoung powered through it, however, and managed to thrust a few more times before he came himself, feeling you cringe from the oversensitivity.

His head fell back against the opposite arm of the couch then, chuckling, while you laid on the other side.

"So, that happened," he said after a long moment of silence.

"Yeah. Can it happen again?" you asked with a smirk.

And then you laughed all the way back upstairs.

Jinyoung was eating breakfast the next morning and you decided to clean up after your dirty neighbor so that when Jinyoung came home for his lunch break, he could spend that time eating rather than cleaning up after him.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, though.

Your neighbor came stumbling down the stairs in his pajamas, greeting you two as he came into the kitchen.

"Hey, guys," he said, then seemed to hesitate. "Were you guys— last night— Can you keep it down next time?"

Jinyoung's cheeks heated at that, almost burying his head in his bowl of cereal shamefully while you just snorted.

He'd acted all confident last night but it sounded just like him to be embarrassed immediately after.

"Sure," you lied. "Sorry about all the noise."

"Thanks," he said and then grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl.

You looked back at Jinyoung and laughed as he refused to make eye contact with you, his cheeks almost the same color as the last apple in the bowl. Embarrassment wasn't something you felt often, so you were more proud.

You and Jinyoung had become the noisy neighbors now.

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