#he is on some much weirder shit than internalized homophobia

[abyssalzones]

can I say something is this a safe space. it's kind of fascinating that ford is meant to read as a deeply repressed character and a capital s Scientist no less but he leads this other half of his life entirely dedicated to the occult. in the 70's-80's. like the historical connotations of the occult and what they represented in the united states at least seems kind of interesting in this context. for no reason in particular I find the dual aspects of "extremely dedicated to presenting as a logical, steadfast researcher trying to earn respect and social acceptance to the point of hinging all of his self worth on this vision for the future working out" and "deeply tied to the paranormal and "unsavory black magic" and everything Weird/freakish but feels like he needs to hide this aspect of himself from even the people closest to him" Very interesting. hiding six-fingered hands compulsively behind his back even if it's the emblem he puts on his journals. "what are you attracted to?" and "maybe you're simply attracted to things that hurt you" from two different points in the book. sweet dreams (are made of this) on the record player. hey does anyone know what that tarot card with a snake on it is meant to represent

[phlox238]

i wrote a pretty long rymin fic and half of it is min being anxious and getting advice from a lesbian at a gay bar,,, it sucks but here it is anyway

2.5k words this is the most ive ever written

"So," The girl began, gesturing wildly with her hands. "You think you're in love with your best friend, who you've known since you were born, and you're in a band and traveling across Canada and the USA with. What did you say your name is?" 

"Oh, fuck." Min-gi sighed, letting his head rest in his hands. "This is weird, isn't it? I barely know you."

"Nah, I just thought that, if we're going to have a slightly drunk chat in the back of a gay bar, then we should know each other's names. I'm Eryn, and you?" Eryn stuck out her hand, the many bracelets she wore on her wrist clanking together. 

Min chuckled a little, then took her hand and shook it. Her dark skin was warm, which was surprising, since this part of the bar was near freezing. "Min-gi. But you can call me Min." 

"Awesome. So, tell me about it, Min." Eryn tightened her ponytail, leaning forward on her arms. 

"Tell you what about it? There's so many things that I could say." He was so caught up in this gay crisis stuff that he hadn't even considered stopping for a moment to really think about it.

Eryn shrugged. "Whatever you want to say. Get stuff off your chest, just let it out, if you want to. There's like, nobody else back here. Doesn't really matter, right? I'm not judgy." 

"Okay...well, he has a girlfriend, first of all; has had many of them. So he's not into dudes." Min crossed his arms. 

"Hey, he could still be. Just because he dates women doesn't mean he's straight. Could still be into guys. Don't give up hope just yet, okay?" Eryn laced her fingers together, as if she was planning something. The dark lighting of the bar didn't help anything.

“Damn,” Min rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t know you could like both.”

Not without laughing at him first, Eryn started to explain. "Oh, wow, you really are new to this, huh?" She chuckled a little more, shaking her head. “That’s okay. There’s a lot of different ways to love people, you just gotta figure out what works for you. Oh, also; it isn’t just both. There’s the genderqueer people, too, don’t forget about them!” She smiled. 

Min didn’t quite know what genderqueer meant, but he figured he could find out later. He was asking too many questions already. "Damn...how do you know all of this? I only realized I was, er, gay, like six months ago."  Min marveled at her, the same way a nerd at school would marvel at the 'cool kids.' And honestly, she really looked like one, with her ponytail and undercut, her yellow, patched leather jacket, even the flashy jewelry she wore.

It made Min want to start dressing differently. Dressing cooler, like Ryan, like Eryn. Maybe he could.

Eryn grinned wider. "Oh, you know. It's just things you pick up along the way. I've known that I'm lesbian for a long time, since I was like 11. And I'm 21 now, so that's a long time. Lots of experience." She shuffled a little in her seat, taking another drink of beer. "Anyway. We're getting off track, aren't we? Keep talking, man." 

Min laughed, a real laugh. "Okay, okay. A year ago, we, er…" He reached desperately for an explanation for the train, but decided that, just maybe, he could tell her. Really, the worst that she could think of him is that he's a drug user. "Can I tell you something? It's going to sound absolutely insane, probably, but I just. Need to tell someone." 

She looked concerned, her dark brown eyes wide, but nodded anyway. "That's real ominous. But sure, go for it."

"Okay. So. Stick with me, here. A year ago, him and I got on a train, right? But then, there was another train door within the train. We just...went into the door. Well, the bastard threw my keys into it and then ran in, so how could I not follow?" Eryn was looking at him intently like she understood. Min could tell he was pretty drunk by now; he'd never be able to open up to someone this much sober. But that's okay. More than okay, really. 

"It gets even weirder from then on. Ryan- that's his name, by the way- and I woke up on a giant, infinie train in the middle of nowhere. Gotta be pretty unbelievable, though. You probably think I'm on drugs." Min sighed.

Eryn was silent for a moment, but it was obvious she was getting ready to explode. "Dude, no fucking way!" Yep, there it was. "I got on that train! When I was eleven. I was super conflicted on my sexuality, had a shit ton of internalized homophobia as a result of having homophobic family. I felt like a disgusting person. So I got on the train, and it actually helped me through it." She'd completely lit up when Min mentioned the train. Looked like she was going to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. 

For a moment, Min was speechless. Soon, though, he regained his voice. "You're kidding," was all he could muster.

"Nope." Eryn's grin nearly reached her ears. "Did you have someone to help you along, too? There was a white cat named Samantha for me. She was French, for some reason. But I miss her." 

"Oh! Yeah, Ryan and I had a floating, talking bell named Kez. Weird, right?. I miss her, too. Wonder how she's doing." Min thought for a second, completely and utterly relieved to have met someone else to share an experience with. Then something clicked. "Hold on...I might have met this cat you speak of. Yellow eyes? Uh, blonde...hair?" 

"Blonde hair? Well, she didn't have that. But yeah, yellow eyes, French accent." Eryn nodded. They were silent for a moment. 

Min chuckled, suddenly getting the urge to continue on with their story. Telling someone about the train would feel wonderful. "We had a lot of...issues...regarding our friendship, at the time. That's why the train picked us up in the first place." He fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "The train did help us. But we had a lot of weirdly intimate moments on it, and that's where my sexuality crisis started. Like, there was a car where we had to perform a song with each other to get out of it, and of course I got stage fright right before it. I left him alone on stage. Again." Min paused, the guilt almost making him feel like he was living through that moment again. 

Eryn nudged him. "And? That doesn't sound intimate. What happened next?" 

"I hid in the bathroom. So he came in, and at first he was angry, but I was having a full on anxiety attack. We sat in the bathtub, hip to hip, knee to knee. It was weird, but nice. He helped me calm down. And like...in our last year of Highschool, I gave him a shirt with our band name on it. In that bath tub, he had it with him. He kept it. Said he'd never done a show without it." Min laughed, but there wasn't much humor about it. "Man, I wanted to kiss him so bad right then and there. But I didn't." 

Eryn had a soft look in her eyes. "I dunno about you, but that sounds pretty damn gay to me. Maybe he's just dating other people to distract himself from his crush on you, who knows! All I'm trying to say is, don't give up on this, Min. You two have something going on, I don't know what, but it could blossom into a relationship." She patted him on the shoulder, then took another drink of her beer. 

Min did the same. "What if he's not gay?" His voice was small. "Worse, what if he's homophobic? I don't know...fuck, it's terrifying. I could lose him because I'm gay." 

"Well," Eryn paused for a moment, "you could try and subtly bring it into conversation. Maybe, like, bring up a celebrity who's gay. See his reaction." She gestured with her hands a lot, Min noticed. 

Min nodded. It seemed simple in theory, but he knew he'd manage to fuck it up somehow. The logical part of his brain knew Ryan wouldn't leave him for being gay, but at the same time, there was this voice in the back of his head. Irrational thoughts, irrational fears; that's all it spoke of. 

"Thank you. Really. It's been nice to talk about this, especially with someone who's been on the train. That thing is...a freak of nature. Maybe not even nature, I don't know. I'll try that with him, too." Min said finally, after some silence. Eryn laughed. 

"Yeah, it absolutely is." She smiled widely. Eryn glanced around, her eyes finally landing on the only visible clock in this part of the bar. Her eyes widened. "Shit, I should really get going! Sorry. I told my girlfriend I'd be back around now." She, out of nowhere, gave Min a hug. It'd been a while since he'd hugged anyone, he realized, and it felt nice. Although, very unexpected. 

Min hugged her back, sort of awkwardly. They separated soon after.

"That's okay. Again...thank you, so much. I should get young too." By now, it was almost 11 pm, and he figured he should leave as well. Ryan should be back at their apartment soon enough. 

Min was about to turn and leave, but Eryn stopped him.

"Hey! How about we exchange phone numbers? This was a good chat, eh? I'd like to stay in contact." Eryn searched her pockets for a pen and some paper, but only found a marker. "Can I, like, write it on your arm and you can do the same?"

Min knew Ryan would tease him over it, but oh, well, he made a new friend. "Yeah, that's fine." He laughed, offering her his arm. She quickly scribbled her number on it, and honestly, it was barely legible. But he could read it, somewhat. 

He then wrote his number on her arm, they exchanged goodbyes, and were on their way. Min dreaded returning to Ryan, who would definitely start to go on and on about his girlfriend, and just prove to make Min feel worse about his stupid crush.

But maybe, just maybe, Eryn was right. Maybe things would finally go his way for once. 

•••

Min's walk home was quiet (as quiet as New York can be at night) and cold, it being the middle of November. Snow was just beginning to fall. Being outside Eryn's words stuck in his head like glue. Talk to him. As if he could do that. The idea of even just mentioning anything close to being gay made anxiety rise in his throat like bile. 

He couldn't. Probably.

Before he could think much more on it, he was home. Home. Back to the decent one bedroom apartment they'd scraped up all of the money in their pockets to buy. Back to the scent of cigarette smoke in the air, back to the strange stains on the carpet in the hallway. Most importantly, back to Ryan. No matter how much resentment Min-gi might hold to him for having a girlfriend, Ryan usually made things better. 

He walked up the stairs and down the hall to apartment number 202, ironically. Unlocked and opened the door to find it dark inside save for a single lamp. Min walked in, curious, just to find Ryan curled up in the fetal position on the sofa. That really made him anxious.

"Hey...Ryan? You good, man?" Min sat on the empty portion of the sofa, near his head. 

Ryan stirred, rolling over onto his back. His head was resting a bit on Min's thigh, and it felt kind of nice. 

"I dunno…" He mumbled. "She broke up with me." 

"What?" Min looked down at Ryan, surprised. "Lisa? You're kidding." 

"Nope, not kidding." Ryan laced his fingers together over his stomach. "The thing is...I'm like, kind of relieved that she did it? How fucked up is that?"  

Min tilted his head in confusion. He really wanted to run his hand through Ryan's hair, but that was a really inappropriate thought for the moment. 

"She, uh...said some things. When she broke up with me." He sighed. "Called me a fag." Ryan laughed, like he found it funny. Min didn't. 

"Dude, what? Why?" Min's voice was a little shaky, for no other reason than that they were talking about gay people. 

Ryan sighed. "Take a good look at us, Min." He brought his forearm up to cover his eyes. "We're two dudes, living in a one bedroom apartment together. We do everything together. Of course she's gonna think there's something going on." 

Min felt like he was going to fucking disintegrate. "U-Uh...and that's a bad thing?"

"I mean...no. It just kind of clicked that...maybe she's right. Maybe I am gay." Ryan sat up, his back facing towards Min. He didn't look back. " I always assumed that I'd be straight, but this...it makes sense. None of my relationships have ever worked out. With women." 

Min reached out and gently touched his shoulder. "Ryan...it's okay." 

Ryan looked back, now, and his eyes were watery. Min frowned.

“How could it be okay?” His voice cracked as he spoke. “It’s just another reason for people to hate me. For my parents to hate me. Hell, maybe even you.” By the time that he finished talking, his voice was almost inaudible. 

"No!" Min almost shouted, jolting forward. "No. Ryan, I could never hate you." Fuck, how was he supposed to tell Ryan he's gay now? Part of him wanted to shout it out impulsively, but the other part, it just wanted to keep hiding. Because what if something goes wrong? What if Ryan's in love with someone else? All what ifs. He really needed to stop. 

Min inhaled deeply. Here goes. "This is gonna sound really coincidental, but...I'm gay too." 

Quickly, Ryan turned around to face Min. His eyes were wide behind his glasses. 

"What? No fucking way. You're kidding." Ryan was leaning forward, using his fists to prop him up. 

Min shook his head. "No...I'm not. I was gonna tell you soon anyway, but now seemed like a good time." He scratched his head awkwardly.

Then, Ryan launched at him, hugging him. Arms wrapped around his neck, knees touching Min's thighs, the whole package. Min was sure he'd die with how flushed his face was; but thankfully, he didn't. 

After what felt like a while, Ryan finally spoke. 

"I love you." He mumbled into Min's shoulder. 

Min paused. "In a gay way, or…?" 

Ryan laughed. "Yeah, you idiot." He shook his head in amusement. 

"Good. That's...great." He hugged Ryan tighter, finally letting himself run his fingers through his hair. It was soft, just like he expected. "I love you too." 

[unsureofreligionname]

This was meant to be me venting, but accidentally became a history of my relationship with religion instead.

Alright. So.

Came here to talk about religion because I have no outlet. If you don't want to hear it, just block me. I'm not trying to convert anyone, I'm just explaining things to see if anyone has a feckin name for my damn belief system, because I really want to avoid accidentally starting a religion or something and pissing everyone off more.

People who got pissy last time got on my ass about how I probably wasn't even ethnically jewish, so here's the whole story.

I was raised by a mother who was raised by a non-practicing jewish mother, both of whom converted to christianity in the late nineties, shortly before I was born. They're ethnically jewish, or so I'm told.

Not super related, but, in case it comes up later, I was raised with the belief that my mother's family is a long line of very careful psychics, which roughly means "a lot of the family is sensitive to spirit shit but avoids it like the plague because it's scary."

I was raised by a father who is, as far as I know, not ethnically jewish. He's of mixed asian heritage, so i guess maybe, but I'm going to assume he's not. His parents, however, were both religiously Jewish; my grandmother was adopted and raised Jewish, and my grandfather converted sometime between meeting and marrying my grandmother. They are reform. My father wasn't the most religious guy in the world, but, if you asked, he'd probably either make a joke about ohio state football or say that he was jewish.

I was raised by my father and mother together until I was seven. We didn't always consistently go to church in early childhood, but my mother did take me to two or three for months or years at a time during the 2-5 period. We celebrated christmas and easter, and i had an illustrated children's bible that, if I remember right, was split into two parts: the first was marketed to christian and jewish kids, and the latter- new testament- to christian kids. Guessing the marketing from the publishing organizations. I think I had a few other religious books and videotapes directed towards kids, both jewish and christian. I specifically remember one that illustrated mana as vanilla wafers for some reason. At seven, my parents divorced, and I primarily lived with my dad.

My dad didn't take me anywhere on the regular, but when I visited his parents for the full weekend, they'd take me to the synagogue. This was every couple of weeks. We celebrated major jewish holidays, but smaller festivals only really got a mention. When I was ten, my dad and stepmother married. She wasn't really religious, but her parents were christian, so christmas was back on our roster then, too.

I started going to hebrew school in 6th grade, but I didn't actually have a bar mitzvah because I ended up getting kicked out at around the time I turned 13 due to a whole thing about me going trick or treating when I was "too old" or whatever, shitty parents, so I ended up having to go live with my mom after that.

At this point, my mom was studying to become a youth pastor, and enrolled me into a local christian school with about a hundred students. Unfortunately, this ended up being a weird fundamentalist cult with its own textbooks and teachings, including that bacteria was not real, AIDS was a summoned by The Gays™ to kill all the christians, evolution was a conspiracy meant to dissuade people from religion, et cetera. It was fucking bizarre, at one point they called several of us posessed for being autistic and otherwise neurodivergent, and they categorized us students into the groups wise, fools, simple, and scorners. (I was a fool, by the way.) It was really not ideal, and the weird punishments were pretty traumatic. There was some weird brainwashy type word repetition involved with lookatthepersonsayokayanddothetask over and over and over, and it sucked.

So, I was at that school for about 18 months before they kicked me out for refusing to stand on one foot for an extended period of time after tapping my foot in class which caused a student who disliked me to complain.

At the same time, my mother was working at a small church out of town that wasn't exactly a cult, but I think the pastor kind of wanted it to be? It was like he wanted the cult aesthetic™ and devoted followers and shit, but only had the skill to make a really sketchy and toxic small town church with a lot of people sitting on blankets on the floor instead. That church honestly wasn't a big part of my life the way the fucked cult was, I just sort of went most weeks. I went to a confirmation class there- I'm pretty sure it was a methodist church- and got confirmed into it shortly before my mother left because the administration was weird in like an asshole way, and that was the last I knew of it.

I was homeschooled for a while during the end of this period due to all of the school stuff. Religiously, by this point in my life, I'd developed some of my own beliefs. I believed in most of the new testament and most of the torah, but I didn't have much exposure to the talmud or much of a comprehensive education in any religion. I think I read a bible cover to cover at least once as a kid, including some shitty commentary (it was a preteen bible) that gave me some internalized homophobia issues for actual years. I was also super curious about the paranormal but terrified of possession- remember the cult?- and I was curious about the idea of some people being reincarnated if they were needed on earth again. Not sure where exactly that idea came from, but it was there. People told me from a lot of sides that those with the wrong religion would go to hell, and the cult tried to teach us all to convert people at any opportunity, but, after leaving, the whole situation just made me massively uncomfortable. I did continue to practice the jewish traditions I knew how to do on my own- like hannukah and a weird private sort of passover- and my mother would support this by getting me what I needed for it, even though she didn't participate and I didn't go to any place of worship during holidays.

After getting kicked out of school not that long after adjusting to not seeing my dad or siblings on his side, we moved. My dad lost custody at some point and we no longer had to live close, so we moved and tried to find a better school. It was a Catholic grade school this time, and I was there for about six months, if I had to guess. It was actually a pretty good school, but I had some issues at the time, so I didn't enjoy it much. I was scared of teachers and administration by then, and I had trouble going the entire school day without panicking or not being able to work. There was a period of a week or two in which I didn't speak at school at all. We ended up settling on half days, and, after that, I did well.

The religion class was awkward. The other kids seemed to know more than me even though I'd thought I had a good grasp on religion at that point, and the little information we shared I'd been taught from a very different perspective. Everyone was very nice to me, but I definitely stood out as the kid who wasn't catholic at that point.

Chapel was even weirder. We had to go every wednesday during school, and catholic churches had so many traditions I didn't know about, and the stuff I knew about from either my jewish grandparents or protestant churches had a different name for some reason.

I'm looking at you, sacraments.

Anyway.

I don't think I got much out of the chapel, but religion classes were kind of cool. I liked learning about stuff I hadn't heard before, and the things that were the same were a comfort.

Soon, though, I was graduating eighth grade. I ended up going to a catholic high school. I was still out of place, but I at least had a basic idea of what to do during the mass this school had monthly.

I liked the religion classes here more, how they were an open discussion of everyone's opinions and experiences, and I liked that both of the most recent schools I'd gone to had actual textbooks with facts and studies in them. There were more kids there who weren't catholic, and I felt more comfortable to actually explore religious topics with people. I had a better understanding of catholic beliefs, a decent idea of their traditions, and could recognize at least a few of their holidays I couldn't have before.

I spent my last year of high school at a public career center to start working towards a medical career.

Now, my current beliefs. If you don't want to read it, then just don't.

I haven't been to any place of worship since my school required it, but I do have strong beliefs. I believe in one God (which I generally write all the way out after a billion essays for religion class) who created everything and watches over humans, which he made in his image, etc etc etc. I believe the old stories from the tanakh/old testament/don't care what you call it and the new- yes, including the key messiah bit- though I do think it wasn't all translated perfectly and that it was written by humans who made mistakes and poor decisions sometimes in their writing. I believe people's salvation comes through their intention, not through a piece of knowledge or a creed or good deeds or a tradition, and I believe different people worshipping in different ways is how it should be, because different people NEED different styles of worship. I believe that if someone is genuinely mistaken and incorrect in who or what they believe in, it doesn't MATTER because it's the intention to strive to do good and not harm fellow people that counts. I'm a little guarded about sharing my own beliefs, hence why I made an anonymous tumblr account, but I'm generally very curious to hear about what other people believe. I find that, for me, celebrating Jewish holidays and traditions helps me get closer to God, and I'd like to find a place of worship one day, but churches fucking terrify me now. I worship best by sitting and discussing beliefs, but I have no place to do it now that I've graduated school. I also developed some of my less related beliefs now: I believe in a lot of old stories that have popped up around the world, like fairies of various places, different creatures and entities and things that have become the subject of curiosity or worship, spirits and things, etc. I think many of these creatures exist, just that they may be different from us in the nature of how they interact with the world and matter and that, and I don't think they're deities or anything. I believe in ghosts of humans in some cases, too, though I believe sometimes other things mimic them. I don't find the idea of God having someone reincarnated if he wants the same soul to play many parts in the world unlikely at all, though that's really just me speculating. I still believe in demons, and I still don't want anything to do with them.

A lot of my understanding of things comes from Jewish, Catholic, and Protestant teaching in a strange mishmosh of culture and religion.

I relate to a lot of things directed at Jewish people, and I understand what's directed at Catholic people. Things directed at Protestant people are both understood and, unfortunately, make me instinctively wary due to weird cult trauma (that in no way reflects on actual protestant people, i love you guys some people just suck and twist religion) so are hard to interact with.

In a lot of ways, I'd consider myself Jewish. Culturally, at least, if my religious beliefs aren't "validly jewish" or whatever.

I have literally zero actual connections to any Catholic church, but I almost feel like a weird half-catholic. That's not a thing, but it's how it feels. I believe a lot of it, and I'm interested in all of it, even if I have my disagreements, plus I understand the environments and culture of it, even if I'm a bit of an outsider.

A year- or maybe two years, idk- ago, I mentioned some upcoming holiday or smth in a post and tagged it messianic. That's the closest name I could find for my experience, but apparently some organizations who use the term suck or something. I ended up getting a bunch of asks calling me a predatory fake jew or a fundamentalist christian trying to appropriate judaism or other weird shit that I'm NOT DOING. Because of my experiences in the past, those comments still weigh so damn heavy on my that I broke my resolve and made this stupid account to complain about it.

I don't have a name for what I am. I don't know where to go to talk about my beliefs with people, or what environment I could find to actually practice whatever weird faith I've dreamt up with other people in a way that isn't just picking part of what I believe and leaving the rest to rot. I feel closer to God and more spiritually fulfilled practicing the festivals that call back to what the Jewish people of old went through, but I also believe in the messiah of the new testament, and I like to read the pope's opinion on things, even though I think no human is perfect or infallible. I want to talk about old writings with people and discuss what they mean, from my religion or others, and I don't want to give any of what's right for me spiritually up.

I don't know what this post is for.

Maybe I'm just venting, but I do want to know if this is a thing or if I'm the only one with this belief system. I'm sick of getting shit for the actions of people who I'm not affiliated with, so apparently calling myself messianic doesn't cut it. I can't call myself "spiritual but not religious" either, because I'm very religious, it's just very personal and not something I shove at people, and "christian" doesn't describe a solid half of what I believe. Off and on again I've considered converting to Catholicism, but I think that's kind of grasping at the closest thing that won't piss off tumblr anons as much. (And yeah, the larger Catholic church can suck, but I honestly think I'm gonna get that with any religion with a large following)

Rambling aside:

I want to find a short description that hits the major points of what I believe in order to help me find a place or group of worship that actually matches my spiritual needs without compromising the cultures that I grew up with and making me feel like shit.

(Also don't try to change my beliefs thanks)

I'll be tagging this with anything I've mentioned or vaguely heard of that might be related so relax ok

[3416]

Hiya! Would you mind elaborating on your tags on that last post? What is it that carina said that would make it bad writing? I don’t have twitter or anything so I’m not in the loop on that stuff

hey there, anon! 

you’re really about to unleash a BEAST, and i already apologize in advance, but i’ve thought about a certain tweet pertaining to that line “it’s just him, you know? screws me up” ... maybe a little TOO much. and i’ve had lengthy discussions with lu @cosmicguerin about this, so some of this might be a nonsensical mix of her thoughts and mine. if you’re out of the twitter loop, i’m not sure if you’ve seen this yet, but i’ll post a link and pic for you here.

..... i think. before carina tweeted this, most of us had assumed michael meant something different with the way he said that line, and honestly, i might go so far to say that even vlamis might have played it off slightly different than what she’s saying. i didn’t really feel.... it even fit his character if we’re being honest, and that’s why i’m calling it bad writing , in my humble and uninformed opinion lbr. because michael guerin up to this point hasn’t really exhibited this . hatred of himself or who he is. honestly? if anything i’d say he’s more mad that other people can’t accept him. he’s dealt with his fair share of trauma, and so i can’t just totally write that line off in my head because yeah , maybe there’s still some internalized homophobia i guess, but listen. he’s a god damn ALIEN. if you think he’s drawing the line at falling in love with a guy, well then. i don’t even know. he really was ready to let isobel walk in on him and alex in episode T H R E E, so please tell me how that’s really... being scared of his siblings reactions to him being something other than straight. so for him to go from that supposedly self deprecating line that marks a “glitch in his straightness” to openly admitting he’s bisexual to isobel with seemingly no hesitance is......... odd to me. especially in a pretty short amount of time. even with the six random weeks thrown in the middle. if he thought max was going to get dodgy with him because he’s bi,,, why would he be so open to isobel? they were raised... under the same household.... and they too have weirder personal identifiers than smth do with sexuality (they’re a l i e n s). and.... if you look back at high school.... i mean, i don’t think michael’s ever thought that was wrong? it took him ONE day and a talk from max to get over his bi panic and kiss alex in the museum. and yeah, jesse smashed his hand for sleeping with his son, but he’s sadly........ been through so much even before that point in his life, that i just. i don’t know. i don’t see that one event changing the entire way he views his own sexuality when he went in knowing alex’s dad was literal piece of shit. ...... i think michael guerin’s character just doesn’t strike me as a guy who hates himself and what he is..... he hates that he feels like he’s not at home where he is, and he’s looking to find a place where he feels like he fits,,, not trying to change himself to fit his own current surroundings. that tweet itself STILL nags at me daily, i swear, but i just don’t think his character arc needed that lil tidbit... like on top of everything else. if that’s really what he meant by the line “it’s just him, you know? screws me up”,,,, then it feels . idk, just meh. i was looking forward to seeing a bi character like. own their bisexuality in a way. he’s got that cool and collected manner about him, and i think,,, if they were going to do this whole internalized ,, hating yourself type shit ,,, there should be more about it then, and not just throwaway lines like that that the majority seemingly interprets a complete different way than intended. that’s all i mean by . bad writing.

anyway i really ran out of steam at the end, i have a lot more thoughts, but i just got home, and i’m tired.... i can easily rant some more if provoked, but.... i’d love to hear opinions on thisfdkls.. it was a source of debate and heat when it surfaced a couple weeks ago. 

[written-in-sunshine]

Cemeteries And Train Tracks - Quaid/Firkle Smith - NSFWish

Title: Cemeteries And Train Tracks Author: Donnie Fandom: South Park Setting: School Bus Pairing: Quaid/Firkle Smith Characters: Quaid, Firkle Smith, Filmore Anderson Genre: Romance/Drama Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 633 Type of Work: Daily Drabble Status: Complete Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Internalized Homophobia, Externalized Homophobia, F Slur, Dubcon Kisses, Rating for language Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Summary: Firkle was weirder than Quaid thought, but apparently that didn’t turn him off of the goth as much as he thought it would. AN: I’ve had this sitting around for a while, and finally thought to get it typed up. I’ve been doing Pomodoros with a group of writers for the Rick And Morty Big Bang, and I honestly love the idea of getting some writing done on a time limit so that I can actually do something. It’s been really good for my progress. I plan on finishing up things that need finished (typed from paper mostly) and then I will work more on my fic for the Big Bang. I hope you guys enjoy! EDIT: This is mega old. You can tell because I was talking about the RAM Big Bang that I ended up having to drop out of. x.x Sorry. I have eighteen fics to post and seventeen that need edited. If you’re someone that can edit for all kinds of fandoms, please message me. I really need some help. Fandoms needed for betaing what I have so far: Saw, Insidious, Insidious/Saw Crossover, Fallout 3, Heathers, Heathers/Dismissed Crossover, South Park/TheVVitch Crossover, Assassin's Creed, Kick-Ass, Left 4 Dead 2, Dragon Age and Until Dawn.

South Park Fic Masterlist Cemeteries And Train Tracks ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Assigned seating on field trips sucked. Quaid Small was stuck sitting next to Georgie Smith, naturally, which couldn’t have been worse. Fagkle was taking up as little space in the seat as possible, but every now and then he’d be jostled by a pothole into the jock. He wrote in a swirling script in a black, leatherbound notebook, head down and feet firmly planted on the floor.

Probably some faggy poetry. Quaid thought bitterly, growling under his breath as Firkle was, once again, knocked into his arm. “Watch it, fag.” Quaid snarled, shoving the goth nearly out of the seat. “Trust me, I’d rather not touch a troglodyte like you if I had a choice.” Firkle bit back, shaking his head with a glare. “What did you call me?!”  “A troglodyte. An idiot savage.” The monotone almost made it worse. “I oughta--” The bus came to a full stop and Firkle instantly lifted his feet onto the seat. “What the fuck are you--” Quaid squealed as Firkle reached over him and pressed his palm flat on the window. “What the fuck, Dorkle?” “I don’t need any more bad luck in my life.” Firkle responded dryly, only releasing the window and dropping his feet when the bus had fully crossed the train tracks. “Bad luck? What, are you suspicious, too?” Quaid asked quizzically, trying to smooth his shirt and pretend like he hadn’t sounded like a frightened girl just minutes before. “Superstitious. And yes, I am. I’m not ashamed. With all the weird shit that happens in South Park, I’m not taking any chances.” “That’s stupid. I bet you throw salt and shit, too.” “And try not to break mirrors, hold my breath when driving past a cemetery, take care not to to fall into graves. The black cat thing is a hoax, though.” “God, you’re so weird.” But it was almost cute. How dare Firkle infect him with gay thoughts. Quaid almost wanted to hit him, but Mr. Woodrow was maintaining eye contact, as if to tell him he had better not. “Weird, maybe. But at least I won’t end up trapped in a graveyard.” “I thought you liked that shit.” “I would rather not have a ghost inhabiting my body.”  “Fucking freak.” “Don’t be such an asshole. You’re just pissed because you want to kiss me.” Firkle had noticed Quaid staring at his lips through most of their conversation. Quaid’s cheeks burned and he snarled all-too quickly.  “Fuck off, no I don’t! That’s fucking gay.” “Right, because you are the picture of heterosexuality.” Of course, he had to say it in the dull tone of his. “I’m going to pound you.” “Oh? I charge by the minute, so you’ll owe me three bucks.” “Fucking faggot.”  That didn’t stop Quaid from holding Firkle back after everyone had gone on, pinning him to the side of the bus. He held tight to Firkle’s scrawny neck, before surging forward and crushing their lips together. There was no care, no finesse, just the taking of what he wanted. When Firkle moaned, he leapt back like he’d been burned. “F-fag,  you’re fucking disgusting.” Quaid spat, wiping his mouth like he’d never be free of the taste of him. “And your lips are purple.” Firkle replied, licking his lips, his lipstick smudged, “Loose lips sink ships. I won’t rat you out.” With that, Firkle was gone like a whisper, leaving Quaid with a raging war in his chest. Wiping his mouth again, he growled. Why had he liked that so much? When he rejoined the group, he couldn’t look at Firkle without feeling something odd happening in his chest. Because of this, he stuck by Filmore like glue, constantly bitching about everything under the sun; everything but Firkle. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: I’m glad I’m finally getting this typed up. xD It’s been a while since I wrote it. I hope you guys enjoyed! Prompt: Superstitious - Having or showing a belief in superstitions.

[cult-of-kai]

The Sword of Swift Justice

Thoughts on episode eight, ‘Winter of Our Discontent’:

This episode was like the ghost of predictions past for me…

The promo picture called Cheyenne Jackson’s character ‘Dr. Rudy Vincent’, but his name in the show is Dr. Vincent Anderson. Surely this was done to preserve the surprise reveal. Right away, we find out that Vincent is innocent of all but being a lousy shrink. But even then- wait. Is he a lousy shrink? He’s exasperated by Ally, to be sure- but so were we. So was Ivy, for all that she had other issues as well. Rosie, beaming, said that Vincent cured her and he responded by praising the work she’d put in. I thought he had to be loading Kai up on Adderall if nothing else, but nope. Kai steals prescription pads from him. Vincent’s eventual fate stings because it comes right when he’s trying to atone for mistakes he is just realizing he made. I reasoned early on that Vincent might not actually be involved in the cult, but I kind of assumed I was overthinking the whole thing. Nope again. Although… there was something a little creepy about the description of “pinky power” (which sounds even sillier than pinky promise), in my opinion. At any rate- RIP, Vincent.

I guess Bebe Babbitt… went missing? I don’t know, but the ladies of the cult are still pissed about being pushed aside. It’s gotten worse, actually, because now they’re stuck cooking for and serving Kai’s army of blueshirt drones. Ivy mentions The Handmaid’s Tale, which I’ll get back to later, and Beverly relates how Kai is manipulating the city council into going along with his decisions. The bit about the gated community is decent class-war commentary. Then it’s time for story time with Winter.

How did Kai-That-Was become the Kai we know? I think it was after the trailer’s release that I called Kai a manipulative whackjob with a messiah complex. But then back in ‘11/9′, we were given the impression of relative- if perhaps dreary- normalcy until Ms. Anderson commits a murder-suicide. This definitely effects him. A mutual of mine (@loonyloomis) pointed out that this was when Kai stopped cutting his hair- Adam Sheppard tease!- and he later gets into peddling fraudulent prescriptions. But he seems to bounce back for the most part, despite living in a house with two rotting corpses. Then the two younger Anderson siblings go to Judgment House on a lark, which Winter presents as the defining turning point in Kai’s life. Symbolically, it makes sense. In a twisted parody of a church, a horror *house of judgment*, Kai is stripped down to his essence- and found wanting. His first instinct upon realizing that Pastor Charles is torturing and killing people is to rescue them, which he does while Winter runs to save herself. This is Kai at his most genuinely heroic. He saved four people, including Winter, from terrible torment and death- not to mention any other victims Pastor Charles would have found. Now just take a minute to imagine how differently things might have gone if Kai had done as the female victim suggested and called the police. But he didn’t, because the better angel of his nature fails. Instead of shining a light on a great evil, he becomes it. He denies Pastor Charles’ victims the justice they choose to do as Winter suggests and kills him, becoming a killer. This- not his parents’ death- is the crack in Kai’s soul, the fissure in his mind. Everything since has been psychodramatic fallout and Kai bringing others down with him. He’s trying to convince himself and everyone around him that he’s on the rise when he is in free-fall.

I’m not sure how prevalent they are overall, but (fake!) Judgment Houses do definitely exist in the South. I specifically remember going to one that was split between heaven and hell. Everyone kept wandering back to hell because the heaven side- white sheets with scripture written all over them- was boring. Parts of Judgment House reminded me of ‘Se7en’, specifically Sloth. That’s undoubtedly deliberate, especially since Winter already name-dropped Fincher last episode. And randomly, AHS co-creator Brad Falchuk dates Gwyneth Paltrow. Others have mentioned similarities to the ‘Saw’ series, but I’ve never seen any of those. Rick Springfield was fine, but Pastor Charles would have been a nice little role for Denis O’Hare.

Anyway. Winter wants to try to reach Kai, because she believes that can happen. They’re all members of a murderous clown cult, but what do I know? Ivy and Beverly agree to give her some time. Winter and Kai meet, and we learn that Kai definitely knows how Harrison died and doesn’t care. They do a pinky power session and shit gets strange fast. Kai has decided, apropos of nothing, that they need to have a messiah baby. And for whatever reason, Winter has to be its mother. Logically, one’s mind goes to incest. But no- it’s going to be so much weirder than that! Kai says they’re going to have a threesome with Detective Samuels but somehow Winter will remain pure. At first I thought maybe Kai was just looking for an excuse to have sex with Samuels, but later events in the episode turned that idea on its head. Winter eventually calls the whole thing off because it gets to be too much nonsense for her. (I mean, it wasn’t until then?) Between the robes and the song and the behavior of all involved, it was undoubtedly one of the most bizarre AHS scenes ever- cringy as hell, but also hysterical and… oddly fitting in a satirical way? In the popular imagination and in reality (to a lesser degree), cult practices are often oddly sexual, cobbled together, and perversions of religious rituals. Kai has a degree in religious studies. Is he trying to sanctify what he and the cult are doing? His opening salvo during pinky power might lead us to believe he’s simply testing Winter, but I don’t know. The whole scenario also evokes ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’, a modern classic about women’s disenfranchisement via reproductive slavery.

As for Winter, what’s her deal? Why was she trolling “social justice warriors” with Kai? Sibling bonding? She seemed to be enjoying it. Was she perhaps also changed by Judgment House? Was her response to the trauma a hard left turn? But she swears to love and be loyal to her brother, who is politically on the opposite shore. In ‘11/9′, she told Ivy she wants to serve someone powerful. It’s all rather baffling. Regardless, Winter wearing a dunce cap and throwing recycling on the side of the road because Kai “doesn’t believe in global warming” is one of the funniest damn things I’ve seen all season. The following confrontation between her and Samuels- especially the line about losing when Hillary did- might suggest she would get more radical and truly join forces with the other women, but that’s not what happens. Instead, she… sells Beverly out? What? In turn, Beverly reads both Kai and Winter for filth.

We *finally* get a little backstory on Samuels, which I’ve been waiting for despite not caring about the character. I suspected he was a Nazi type way back in ‘Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark’, and I was right. He was also a dirty cop pre-cult, although it’s a little rich for Winter to accuse him of being a criminal when- once again- they’re both members of a *murderous clown cult*. He life is complicated by being gay and internalizing homophobia. Kai sees this and immediately goes to work, feeding Samuels a line of misogynistic bullshit and then fucking him for good measure. Kai seems particularly into it as well, which is interesting. I rather wonder how Evan would describe his character’s sexuality. So did Samuels just not care about Harrison at all? It didn’t seem like their involvement was only physical. I specifically remember them cuddling on the couch and discussing their favorite housewives. Eh. RIP, Samuels.

Finally, we have Ally to consider. We see her holding one of Oz’s toy trucks before inviting Kai over to rat Vincent out. She claims to be afraid of nothing now, and that’s after Kai has already noted a change in her. Their little exchange about Manwich is cute, as is her deliberately calling Speed Wagon ‘Aerosmith’. (Seriously, where did the drones’ names come from?) In the final scene, we see that that some drones have taken to wearing the masks of fallen clowns. Ally, staring Ivy down, is wearing the mask of Kai’s former “favorite”- the only one who impressed him. That’s no coincidence. Rise, Ally.

[beaft]

How do you come up with your worlds for your stories? Do you start with a character or a world? How do you figure out the amazing little quirks and details that make it so attractive, without being repetitive or similar to another world? Do you go into the core mechanics of magic when it's present in your world? And how do you brainstorm your world/ideas? How do you know what's a good idea or bad and not worth pursuing?

Oh, man, thank you so much for giving me an excuse toramble about this (although my response is gonna be pretty long, so you mightregret asking). I have a lot of thoughts about worldbuilding, and very few ofthem are coherent, but here’s my best attempt!

(warning: lots of Wordsunder the cut)

1) I don’t really knowhow to answer this one, because…I honestly don’t know? Sometimes it just sortof happens – an idea comes into myhead, and I just put it down and run with it. The “Dearly Departed” ‘versehappened when I got lost in the woods, and found myself wondering what I’d doif I came out again to discover that everyone had disappeared. Pretty basic,but from there it evolved into a weird quasi-horror story with its own set ofrules, to the point where the original concept was fairly peripheral. Other times,it’s just a question of looking at something and asking yourself, “How doesthis work? What would happen if I changed this specific aspect, or addedsomething new on?” Sometimes it feels a bit like engineering – taking thingsapart and putting them back together in new ways, and seeing what happens as aresult.

2) I have kind of a weirdway of working when it comes to characters; sometimes a very loud anddistinctive voice will turn up in my head, and when that happens I spend a bitof time living with them and listening to what they’ve got to say. Then I put themin a sort of mental bank where they can be taken out and inserted into a storythat seems to fit them (possibly adapting some elements of their personality inthe process). Other times, the world itself will suggest what kind ofcharacters might fit into it. In Midnight Calling, a central idea is thatdreams have substance, and can be used as a weapon – so from there it justseemed narratively fitting for the main character to be narcoleptic. I do needto plan out my characters beforehand, though, because if I just try and makethem up as I go they all end up sounding like me (which is to say, confusedsnarky everymen who just want to go home and have a cup of tea and a nicesit-down). As much as we all love Bilbo Baggins, no one wants a story entirelypopulated by him.  

3) The fact is, there aren’treally many “original” ideas left. Making something interesting doesn’t generallycome about by thinking of a concept that nobody has ever thought of before, butby combining old ideas in new ways. Occasionally, it’s fun to just mashtogether two completely random plots or genres, and see what happens. Forexample, Six of Crows is essentially justGame of Thrones meets Oceans Eleven, whilst TheDresden Files is what happens when you take a Raymond Chandler story andadd wizards. The weirder and the more seemingly disparate the ideas are, thebetter. (Or so I’ve found, anyway.)

4) While I’m objectivelyterrible at anything vaguely science-related, I do try to go into themechanics, because at the end of the day I like to have explanations for things.It’s…partly why the way Marvel deals with the whole “magic” thing kind ofannoys me? To give one example: we’re shown that Loki can shapeshift, and whenhe does his voice changes to match the voice of the person he’s imitating (whichindicates that it’s a full-body change, not just a superficial illusion). However,when he alters other people – such as transforming Thor into Sif – their voicesstay the same, implying that this is either a different kind of transformationaltogether or that the voice change and the appearance change are two separate spells.It’s little stuff like that which really gets to me, because it takesme out of that world and makes me question what the actual rules are, orwhether there are even rules at all. simply put, it feels lazy. So while it isimportant to walk that line between “over-explaining” and “under-explaining”, youdo need to have some kind of internal consistency in place - unless you’re doing full-on surrealism, in which case you’re probably not going to be doing much worldbuilding anyway. 

4) My brainstormingusually takes the form of random scribbled notes with a lot of question marksand crossings-out, and probably makes absolutely no sense to anyone who isn’tme. I usually start with a simple concept, and once I have that down there are afew core things that have to be dealt with straight off the bat, such as: whatdifferent cultures exist in this world? How do they interact? Is there anydiscrimination, and if so where does it come from? (For example, having homophobiajust for the sake of “realism” is pretty sloppy, and just makes it seem asthough the author couldn’t be bothered to conceptualise a world in which gaypeople aren’t treated like shit.) What are the different social classes? What’sthe climate and geography? What important historical events happened that impactedthe world? Dragon Age does this really well, imo – while plenty of people havecomplained about the absurd amount of codexes and random lengthy chunks of socio-politicalinformation, there’s no denying that it does a lot to make the setting feel likea real place with a rich history, not something that conveniently sprang intoexistence right before the narrative begins. The way to stop this from becomingtedious and expositional is to allow it to support the story, rather thanbeing the story. Your audience doesn’t need to know everything that youknow. So long as you slip in details here and there, they can generally be countedon to fill in the blanks themselves.

5) The only way I cantell if an idea is good or not is to write it. Generally, if I find it excitingand I want to explore it further, it’s a keeper. If I’m twenty pages in and it’salready feeling like a slog, I don’t bother. While forcing yourself to grindthrough the tough bits is (unfortunately) a key part of the writing process, ifit doesn’t interest you in at least some capacity, then it probably won’tinterest anybody else either.

Thank you again, andapologies for the essay!