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brummiereader · 3 months ago

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Binding Love (Part One/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After a morning of negotiations between lawyers, the day goes wasted when Tommy takes it upon himself to interfere in court proceedings. With your muddled intentions made clear, and your husband's declarations of love forcefully made known, a blazing row erupts between you both in the bustling streets of Birmingham. Will you ever be free from your husband's restraints? Do you even want to be?

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst.

Word Count: 5K

Authors Note: For the purpose of depicting the manipulative behaviour of Tommy in the first part of this chapter, I've taken it upon myself to have radios become a common feature in cars before they were. We'll pick back up from the first scene again in the last chapter. The song playing on the car radio is called "Release Me" by Engelbert Humperdinck.

[Masterlist] [Trailer] [Main Masterlist]

" Please release me, let me go. For I don't love you, anymore..." the sound of your husband's humming voice accompanied by the taunting song and a sharp turn of the cars rumbling wheels on the gritted ground, jolted you from the daze your tired body had drifted into.

"Tommy...Tommy!" you began to frantically cry into the darkness, faced once again with the horrors sleep had dulled for you. A slither of light beaming through a crack in the rear headlights, the salty air of sand and kelp your only comfort to stop your racing heart from plunging you into complete obscurity.

"Tommy please! I'm...I'm sorry! I was scared...you were scaring me!" Your stifled breath wept with desperation as you begged for mercy before panic took over, and you succumbed to the tight enclosure.

Losing track of the countless halting stops, the speeding turns as Tommy's foot pressed down onto the pedal with determination. You had given up on trying to route your husband's destination and fallen into a weary haze of slumber. But with Tommy's clear attempt to awaken you, and bless his lonely thoughts with the beauty of your strangled cries, he had also awoken the searing panic within you once again.

How many hours had it been...fuck, how many hours had it been?! How much air was left?!, your frightened mind scrambled to make sense of the amount of time that had passed through the music loudly confusing any tangible answer you could come to.

" I can't breathe...Oh my god, I...I can't breathe!" your chest heaved in a frenzy, relenting to the alarming situation you had distanced yourself from as your hands searched to ground your body before you let what was left of your sanity slip into the terror your husband was hellbent on inflicting on you.

" Tommy! I...I can't breathe!" your hand flew to your chest as adrenaline coursed through the blood pumping furiously throughout your body. Every muscle reacting in a torturous plea for you to flee the inescapable.

" Maybe you should stop screaming, sweetheart" Tommy's voice rose above the music as a wicked smirk etched on the corner of his curling lips. His arm resting casually on the open window with a lit cigarette perched between his fingers as one would on a leisurely Sunday drive in the country.

" You bastard!" you snapped forgetting yourself, throwing the warranted insult his way as a low chuckle obnoxiously echoed back to you in response.

" And to think I put a cushion in there for you" he teased, if only to spur on the enticing game of cat and mouse he had become the sole player of.

" Don't say I don't do anything nice for you, eh?" a slither of irritation seethed at the end of his tongue for the chaos he blamed you for. For the cascade of selfish decisions you had made he blamed on the day's events.

How could you have done this to him, after all...no. After everything he'd lovingly done for you to keep you away from those that wanted to ruin what you shared.

" I hate you...I fucking hate you! I never loved you Tommy, just like your fucking song! I don't love you! Are you listening?! " your screams continued as you thrashed your limbs against the walls. Desperately trying to garner a reaction out of him as your lungs heaved for the stolen air, panic had snatched from them.

And a reaction you got, but one you'd be thankful to not have witnessed when Tommy shifted in his seat, loosening the collar of his shirt from the restricting pang of anger bobbing in his throat. His jaw clenching into a grating sound of teeth grinding on top of one another as the blue of his eyes eclipsed with a foreboding shade of coal at the lies you had spoken to scorch him. Lies he knew were only said to fool yourself into believing, rather than succumbing to the truth that your doting husband was, and always would be, the only man you would ever love.

You were just...tired. A knock to the head would make anyone confused, Tommy told the distasteful burn that had settled on his chest as the calloused pads of his fingers turned the volume up to drown out any more unwarranted admissions that would have him act out on the sting you had pierced him with.

"I'm warning you, eh? You hear me? One more fucking word Y/N, I dare you!" Tommy's voice loudly ordered with a shuddering tone of control as his eyes narrowed in on the road in front of him. His leather gloves snapping with a crisp creak under his curling fingers as they tightly grasped around the steering wheel. Tethering on the idea of stopping the car to an abrupt halt and dealing with you by hand.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, your trembling bottom lip steadied itself from any further statements you'd be a fool to make as the toying melody lulled your weeping body back into hopelessness. Your eyes drifting to the narrow rays of the sun fading with each passing minute.

Hovering your fingers over the dusting of light, you began to quietly mouth the tormenting lyrics of the song Tommy had chosen to accompany your long drive into the unknown as you let your body sink into itself.

Feeling a strangled cry build in your throat, one last frustrated thrash of your elbow against the side of the car boot had a flash of light searing into the darkness, causing your head to turn from the glaring brightness of the outside world now beaming into your enclosure.

" Shit, shit..." your head turned in a panic to see the back headlight gone, your pent-up hopelessness now your saviour.

Whipping your head back to the sound of your husband's toying lips whistling in tune to the song, your heart pounded rapidly against your chest as you waited for him to acknowledge his taillight skimming across the road. But when no reaction came, you tempted fate and slipped your arm through the open gap, frantically waving your hand in hopes somebody would see.

Hearing the rumbling sound of a car approaching, you pushed your arm further through the shards of glass as you desperately tried to alert its drivers' attention.

" No, no, no..." you cried, pulling away to see the car disappear into the fading sun, hurtling all despair back to you in a strangled muffle of cries.

Readying yourself for the burning sting once again, you pushed your bloody hand back into the sharp teeth of your only escape, forcing it through until your shoulder met the door of your prison one last time.

And that's when you felt it. The lock that had kept you captive for countless hours in the dark.

In for a penny, in for a..., your teeth bit down onto your wobbling bottom lip, dried with a layer of blood from the dripping gash on your forehead.

Steadying your heavy breaths from backing out, you pushed your thumb down onto the chrome button, committing to your escape and the horrors you would face if your husband caught you.

With a subtle click, the door effortlessly popped open as you pulled yourself up with shaky hands, throwing the weight of your body out onto the road without care to any car approaching or injury you'd likely sustain as Tommy's foot slammed on the breaks to a screeching halt.

" Now just where do you think you're going..." Tommy's eyes narrowed, the rolled cylinder of tobacco resting between his plump lips puffing a cloud of smoke with each quiet breathy observation as he flicked the wing mirror with his finger to see the reflection of you scrambling to your feet.

" Help! Somebody!" You screamed in horror as you ran barefoot along the gritted ground. Only a thin slip covering your modesty, Tommy hadn't given you a chance to conceal with his unexpected appearance that morning.

"Shit" Tommy huffed throwing the door open, discarding the burnt cigarette from his mouth as he bolted after your sprinting feet.

" C'mon darling, don't make a scene!" you heard his gravelly voice call after you as you dared to look back to see him chasing towards you with a malicious smile of amusement toying on the corners of his lips.

With no sign of life but the two of you on the long winding road, you took your chances in the bushy hedgerow, heading down the dangerous coastal path with screams of terror as Tommy stayed hot on your heels behind you.

But your frantic escape and pleas for help would go unheard among the thrashing sound of waves, leaving only the echos of the melody coming from Tommy's abandoned car in the middle of the lone country road, and the ticking of its blinkers counting the moments down until he caught you.

"Please release me, let me go. For I don't love you anymore. To waste our lives would be a sin..."

One month earlier...

"Shit, I'm sorry. I don't..I don't have any change" your cheeks reddened with embarrassment as your fingers fumbled with the small, empty purse. Not a single shilling nestled within its velvety padding. Not a single penny to your name.

"My husband wi..." you stopped yourself, feeling a fool to have even referred to him as such, that you were going to rely on him to settle your fare, knowing full well he'd find enjoyment paying on your behalf with the proceedings set to take place in a moment's time.

" S'alright, Mrs Shelby. On the house" the taxi driver nodded to you in the rear mirror with a bushy bearded smile. For he was not foolish enough to follow in suit with your slipping tongue and make the wife of the leader of the Peaky Blinders pay a sum so trivial it could see him costing a finger his profession deemed vital.

" Thank you, Jeffery. But after today I'll no longer be, Mrs Shelby" you stated, opening the car door to a gust of autumn air nipping at your cheeks, your heels stepping onto the cobbled street, that paved your way to the grand building where a judge would decide on your future.

Strutting into the towering structure, you held your head high as your heels loudly echoed along the marble floors. But as you pushed through the heavy court doors, your mustered confidence took a sudden blow when the room turned to face you and the man that would reside over your divorce proceedings, scolded you like a child in front of a class of their peers.

" You're late, Mrs Shelby" he looked past the rims of his glasses as your pace slowed in a desperate attempt to muffle your poor choice of shoes and the unwarranted attention it garnered.

"I'm sorry your honor" you apologised, shamed in front of everyone as you hurried past the set of blue eyes following your every step. His piercing stare roaming over your body from head to toe, to every curve your fitted dress accentuated. His head leaning into your musky perfume filled with notes of amber and vanilla that drifted past him in a gentle greeting as you took your seat next to your solicitor. The intoxicating smell enough to cause a breathy exhale of repressed want from his throat. Tommy.

Feeling the intent stare of your husband boring into your heated cheek, you whipped your head up from the documents between your painted nails to see Tommy leant back in his chair, admiring your choice of outfit from between the men of law that separated you. Why did he have to look at you that way? He was doing it on fucking purpose.

Snapping your eyes away, a screeching sound of a chair scraped along the floor, followed by the heavy footsteps of your husband approaching.

" Darling" he greeted, taking the opportunity to approach you and the tray of refreshments stood feet from your desk as the fumbling Judge lay out your weighty file in front of him with the help of his assistant.

"Tommy" you replied, eyes fixed on the documents in front of you, trying your upmost to shield yourself from the pull of his daily dose of sweet-talking.

Scoffing a chuckle, Tommy raised the glass tumbler of water to his grinning lips. Amused by the cold shoulder you were adamant on giving him.

"Quite the entrance. Was that little show all for me..." You suddenly felt the heat of his body next to you, his distinct cologne of tobacco intertwined with whiskey and soot filling your senses. "...eh?" he perched himself on the edge of your desk as he leant into your ear, his fiery breath sending a ripple of goosebumps down your neck as the beginnings of a cocky smile curled against your skin.

" No" you firmly stated, feeling the remaining surges of embarrassment making laps in your stomach as you raised your eyes to see the smug smirk of enjoyment plastered across his face. Did you do it for him? Were you still seeking his attention, his approval after all this time, after everything that had happened?

" You sure, sweetheart?" his brows knitted together, mischief twinkling in the corners of his creased eyes as his hand reached under the table, roaming under your dress until his fingers met the clasps of your garter and unclipped one.

"Hmm, such a tease" he chuckled to himself, feeling the sting of your hand slapping his fingers away. Toying with your emotions and the agreed boundaries he was unwilling to follow once again.

Whether it be to purposely play with you or sheer refusal to admit he was the one that had pushed you to this point. Tommy didn't care. For your husband would never abide by anyone, let alone follow life's rules that weren't from the beat of his own drum.

" Be seated everyone" the Judge ordered, bringing your racing heart down to a manageable speed as Tommy scooted off the wooden table onto two feet, adjusting his suit before reluctantly playing along to the six-month temper tantrum he believed you was having.

As the dreary morning of papers being sent back and forth between lawyers, of decisions over the custody of your shared child continued. Tommy made it his sole mission to find an issue with every suggestion raised. Addressing only you throughout the entire ordeal as his generously paid lawyer, buried his head in his hands with frustration.

" Mr Shelby" the Judge's voice rose above Tommy's interruptions as he wiped the bead of sweat that had settled on his temple. A huff of defeat in response to the insult that he, a man of his position, couldn't keep his courtroom and its sole troublemaker under control.

" Two Sundays out of the month, Y/N? I won't allow it, understood? Sunday is family time and we'll spend it together, whether you like it or not" Tommy rolled his shoulders, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket as the Judge desperately tried to bring order to the room.

"Why don't we go back home and end this fucking circus, eh? I'll make love to you, we'll take Elsie out for an afternoon with the horses..." Tommy trailed off into a tangent of things he'd rather be doing than sitting in the stuffy room he was currently forced to be in with a wigged man telling him what he could and couldn't do with his family.

"Mr Shelby, I beseech you" the Judge removed his glasses, peering at your husband's lawyer to keep control of his client.

" You really want to do this, eh? To our daughter? Y/N? Y/N?!" the last of Tommy's patience quickly evaporated as you snapped your head away from his bellowing voice to the window beside you, tears spilling over your cheeks.

" Mr Shelby!" The magistrate slammed his hammer down onto its wooden pillow as an exasperated sigh at the tiresome morning loudly left his throat.

Ignoring the resonating boom of the wooden hammer, Tommy rested his arm on the back of his lawyer's chair as he leaned in. Whispering his orders into his ear as his scorching stare stayed fixed on you.

Daring to challenge the piercing pair of eyes burning into you, you raised your head as your husband's lawyer approached the bench with his orders.

Gaze drifting up from his clenched fists, you were met with nothing but anger. Anger at your refusal to bring an end to the whole charade, for your unwillingness to let him back into your martial bed over a paddy he believed would fizzle out within a week's time. How had things gotten to this point? Or more precisely, what had your dear husband done to push you to this point?

" Proceedings are postponed until further notice" the Judge's damning words shocked you out of your husband's hold on your every thought as your eyes darted to your lawyer.

" All rise" the portly guard beside him announced as those present dispersed from the room, leaving you with darting eyes scanning the empty rows of chairs until they settled on Tommy, and the satisfied smirk he was maliciously sending your way.

"What did you do? Tommy! What did you do?!" you shouted, storming over to him as he rose from his seat. Unbothered by your fit of rage and the role he played in its sudden appearance.

"You're so angry all the time, darling" he replied, dismissing your questions as his hands snaked over your waist, playfully pouting down at your widening eyes as if the entire ordeal was nothing but a small spat between a married couple.

"You might wanna get that checked love, can't be good for you, now can it?" He continued to rile you up after getting his way as you pushed him off you, feeling fooled by your lawyers guarantee that not even your husband could bring a halt to court proceedings after the lengthy battle you had already fought to get this point.

Tears settling between your lashes, you shook your head in disbelief at another delay to your freedom as you ran from the courtroom and your husband calling your name.

" Y/N!" Tommy's voice bellowed into the chilly blue sky as he followed after your hurried steps down to the bustling main road of Birmingham's town center.

"Hey!" He grabbed hold of your hips, spinning you around to face him and the tears streaming down your reddened cheeks.

"Hey..." he hushed your cries as you clutched your arms around your body from the bitter breeze of winter slowly rolling in.

"Here" he pulled his black overcoat from his shoulders, wrapping it around your trembling body, you shrugged off the moment it's warmth enveloped you.

No matter what he did, you wouldn't let him in. Why wouldn't you fucking let him back in?!, Tommy thought to himself, throwing his coat on the hood of his car. Oblivious or rather, ignorant to how he had toyed with you moments earlier.

" Why are you doing this, Tommy? We agreed to this. You agreed to this!" a sigh of defeat had your head turning in frustration to the cobbled ground below you. A stream of tears following in tow.

"Forced my hand more like" his huffy response snapped back as he fished in his suit jacket for a cigarette.

Eyes cast down, Tommy's stare darted between your tear-ridden cheeks and the morning dash of men and women hurrying to their places of work as you both stood in silence.

"Hey, look at me" he cupped your chin, turning your head to face him as he shuffled from foot to foot with a breathy exhale. "We'll deal with this in private, alright?" his brows raised, only to be welcomed with your rolling eyes of skepticism on what the word private actually meant to your husband whose idea of a fair deal was only if he was the one making all the deciding factors.

"Y/N?" he waited on your answer, softly brushing a lock of hair from your cheek when his eyes caught the sight of a police car sat guzzling gas on the opposite side of the road, and the prick inside he'd learnt had been hounding you for months on the whereabouts of his colleague.

Jaw tightening, Tommy watched as the detective gave a two-finger salute before turning the wheels of his car into the road and driving off with a pleased smirk. A clear provocation to rile up the notorious gangster on a day he knew Tommy's reputable temper could see him snap given the right push, in the right direction.

" Y/N?" his attention flew back to you as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. " I don't want this" he held your gaze as the end of his cigarette sizzled inches from your cold cheeks.

" I love you" his stare intensified as he wet his lips, his hands reinforcing his words with a stern shake to your face. " I can't lose you. If you want me to change...fuck, I'll change, alright?"

" For god's sake Tommy, that's not...not what I want from you" You felt a surge of disappointment plummet to the bottom of your stomach at the empty promises you had heard countless times before. Hoping that for once, just once, he'd say something that could reassure you enough to put a stop to the yearning you had to reconcile without a shit load of regret following shortly after it.

"I was just keeping you safe, darling" his hands dropped to your arms, tenderly rubbing them within his palms.

" Is that what you want me to do? Pull back my men? Is that what this is all about, eh?" He continued with his refusal to acknowledge the lengths he'd gone to keep control over every waking moment of your day.

" You've given up on us, haven't you?" Tommy huffed at your silence and the reaction it had on his grating need to have your undivided attention at all times.

"Just know this is all on you, eh? Our daughters' parent's separated because of you. Great fucking example you're showing her, darling. Well done" Tommy shook his head, viscously switching his mood back to his bitter brooding over your lack of response, and the expected answer you were unwilling to give.

Your silence being enough to make clear where you stood on the matter, you turned to leave as his hurtful words settled in your chest. Burrowing down to your heart, to the pang of guilt you felt for the stress you was putting your six-year-old daughter through.

"Where are you going?" He stopped you from taking another step as he grabbed hold of your arm.

" Into town" you attempted to shrug off his grip as you watched the barrage of questions form behind his eyes.

" You need some money?" He slipped his burning cigarette between his lips as he pulled out a bundle of cash, flicking through the notes.

" No" you huffed, folding your arms away from him as a wave of embarrassment that you didn't have the money for a taxi fare, let alone a trip into town without your husband giving you your weekly pocket money, scorched you with humiliation.

" Why not?" Tommy's brow furrowed as he threw his cigarette to the ground. " Y/N, why not?" His question turned into an urgent demand to know what had you needing to walk into the city for something he could get one of his men to fetch for you.

Fuck sake, you sighed to yourself, feeling the familiar tone of interrogation seeping though his questions. You just wanted space, space away from the house you still found yourself sharing with him, from the constant reminder of happy memories spent together, from him, from him and his fucking need to know your whereabouts every hour of every second of the day.

"You have someone else paying for this outing into town, is that why you don't need my money, eh? Tommy's paranoia started to turn it's ugly head into an onslaught of never-ending questions.

"Going on another fucking date, hm? Like you did with that pig" his grip tightened, releasing his pent-up anger out on your reddening arms as he glared at you with eyes burning with enough fury to heat your face.

" It's was a friendly dinner..." You sighed with frustration at his inability to stop himself before he pushed you further away with words intended to hurt.

" You meeting someone, Y/N? You fucking somebody, eh?" His voice rose, letting go of the little self-restraint he still possessed as he abruptly pulled you into his body.

" Why you doing this to me, hm?" His voice suddenly softened into desperate pleas anyone would think was an end to his anger. But his tight hold on your body as his cheek pressed against yours, the sound of his gritted teeth grinding together against your ear, enough to tell you otherwise that his fury was seconds away from bubbling over.

" Tommy stop...enough!" You managed to push him away as you turned to leave, refusing to withstand another second of the man that had replaced your once doting husband.

" You won't get rid of me that easily, darling! I won't let it happen!" His voice bellowed into the soot filled air, garnering the attention of those within ear shot. "You marry a Shelby, you stay married! You hear me?! You stay, fucking married!"

" Fuck!" His hands slammed against the door of his car as his lawyer nervously approached, announcing his presence with the clearing of his throat.

" What?!" Tommy's head snapped back to the fumbling man with a file of papers requiring his attention.

" See that those get lost" Tommy's demeanor quickly simmered, keeping the only document that held any interest before piling the rest into the arms of his lawyer.

Sinking into the driver's seat, his true intentions, written in the words of his solicitor, found their way into the glove box as one of his men slid into the passenger's side.

" What's the plan boss?'" the peaked soldier questioned, his voice drowning out into a distant muffle of unintelligible words as Tommy's eyes followed you walking along the cobbled path. His fingers hovering over the ignition, ready to leave when you turned back to look at him with locks of hair dancing in front of your eyes, cheeks rosy red from the chill that had settled over the foggy city. The sight twisting an unbearable urge within him to have you walk back to him, to have you back in his arms.

Were you coming back to him?, Tommy waited, a breath of anticipation catching in his throat as you stood from afar before the ends of your dress turned with a gust of wind, pushing you around the corner out of sight.

" Boss?" The peaky asked, waiting for his orders as his hand rested on the handle of the door.

" Follow her"

" Fuck..." you stifled the steady flow of tears trickling down your cheeks as you darted into a narrow bricked path behind a row of shops. A face as famous as yours was, and would always be a topic of conversation, even more so with a set of tears covering it.

How had it come to this? Was it after the birth of your daughter? No, no, before then? When you was dating?", you plagued yourself with the same frequency of questions your husband tired you with.

No matter how many questions your weary thoughts tormented you with, the truth was, you couldn't pinpoint when your marriage fell apart. It had happened slowly, small changes gone unnoticed. And then, in true Tommy fashion, accelerated to a point where the ignored had become glaringly obvious.

Yet still, wrenching pangs of yearning had you feeling like you couldn't live without him as long sleepless nights dragged on. The heat of his body absent from under the sheets of your martial bed. He was all you had ever known. And he knew it. He knew it.

"You'll pay privy to his crimes when I finally get him, Mrs Shelby. You and your daughter" a voice snatched you from the beckoning memories of your husband's arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

" Leave me alone" your eyes snapped up as you blinked your tears away, pulling yourself from the detective that had tracked you down for a second time that week.

" You're making a mistake" he caught your arm, forcing you to face his insistent inquiries into your husband.

"For the last time, I don't know anything. Now let me go" you echoed the countless responses you had already given.

One dinner had landed you not only at the brunt end of Tommy's raging anger, that you had dared to entertain someone of the opposite sex that was neither blood nor bound to you by marriage, but the watchful eye of your date's colleague, adamant on finding what he believed would be his partner's dead body, murdered at the hands of your husband after a fit of jealousy.

" I can offer you protection, away from him. All you have to do..." He slipped his details into your hand before you abruptly put an end to his concerns for your safety.

" I said, leave me alone" you pulled his hand off you, tired of being man-handled, of being expected to appease every living fucking creature of the opposite sex.

"You'll be next, Mrs Shelby. Mark my words!" He shouted to you as you drifted back into the bustling streets, his words leaving a harrowing sense of dread tightening around your throat as you shoved his card within the warmth of your pocket.

" Tommy doesn't share his toys!" The last of his warnings rang back to you as you leaned against a lonely lamp post, steadying the weight of your body against its metal frame when the world you were trying to flee from appeared in the corner of your eyes in the form of a peaked cap soldier watching from afar.

In sickness and in health, until death do us part. Would you ever be free from the binding love that had chained you together? Or would fate echo the words of your shared vows spoken on your wedding day?

Next Part

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@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

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furiousgoldfish · 9 days ago

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We often can't help ourselves but to look at other people's experiences of abuse to see who has it worse, to put our own situation in some sort of context, to place ourselves in this big scale of how bad it was. We're used to comparing, because in abuse we are often compared to every fictional scenario of 'who has it worse', to make us shut up about our own situation, so if we have some real scenarios to compare ourselves to, we will. Even if we know it's bad to compare, that pain is pain, and all abuse is bad, we still wanna know where we are in this fictional scale of who had the most horrible abuse. The implication being, that only people who had it worst are allowed to complain about it and have symptoms.

And I think it's natural to a point, to want your experiences put into some sort of context, to be able to see how our experiences compare to others, and we're not necessarily doing it to make anyone else feel bad or shut anyone up. We don't believe in the hierarchy of 'who had it worse', we just want to know exactly where we are in the scale and to adjust our behaviour accordingly (we need to know our place in the hierarchy to know if we're allowed to complain and show symptoms.)

But the thing is, the consequences and the symptoms won't necessarily reflect the hierarchy. The damage from the abuse will sometimes come from the intensity and the perceived amount of trauma in the situation, but it will also come from what the abuse communicated to us, and what it taught us. Because if we were exposed to abuse, any kind, it is likely we all got communicated the exact same thing to us: you're not worthy of acceptance and love. You're not inherently deserving of happiness and care. You've deserved to be hurt, it's normal and natural for others to hurt you. You're a burden on others. You're unlovable. You can only exist in specific conditions where you're being consistently punished for being who you are. You're weak. You're supposed to be handling everything better. You're incapable of living a normal life. You're too sensitive and too emotional. You're a failure and you won't ever be able to deserve anything.

Whether these messages are communicated via violence, neglect, shaming, guilt-tripping, manipulation, exploitation, the consequences are the same. A person feeling deep shame about who they are, feeling alienated from human society, scared of being seen for who they are, scared of trusting others, desperate for positive attention but either ashamed or completely oblivious to how to get it without inviting further abuse into their life. Most of us have these consequences in common, despite the intensity or duration of abuse; and it's equally devastating for all of us.

We're taught to look for differences and levels of intensity of abuse, but the reality is that the hierharchy and scale are not real in any tangible or comparable ways; we all have much more in common than we have different between us. We're all cut off from feeling loved or safe, we're all alienated and struggling to feel like a part of society, we're all betrayed by our loved ones, we're all insecure in our personal relationships and identity, we're all struggling to keep any kind of faith in humanity. The scale was inflicted on us in order to silence us from speaking up about it; it created this mythical person who had it so much worse and is allowed to complain, while we're not, because we didn't have it as bad. But all of us had something cut off form us, and all of us should say it. We don't need to alienate ourselves from each other based on variety of abuse because we can speak in unison about how it affected us.

There's nobody who's 'not being abused bad enough to be allowed to complain' because all abuse alienates us from ourselves and our humanity, and it's going to be more similar to what everyone else abused is going trough, than it is from being treated in a normal and humane way.

#abuse #trauma #cptsd #aftermath of abuse #child abuse #domestic abuse #abusive parents #long term abuse #consequences of abuse #comparing abuse #comparing trauma #trying to see our experiences in context #but only ever in context of who had it worse #we never compare ourselves to those who had it better #because we weren't taught to do that

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danosrosegarden · 4 months ago

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Thinking about dressing Edward up in a collar and leash, dragging him around his shitty apartment while he crawls behind you. Making him hump a pillow or your leg just so you can giggle and make fun of him for cumming like that. Shoving his nose in the mess he made and calling him a very bad dog, only giving him the praise he so desperately craves once he licks it up.

don't you wanna be nobody every once in awhile - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW) ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚♡

{contents ♡ very minor angst, choker wearing, pillow humping, praise/degradation mix}

{word count ♡ ~800}

{author's note ♡ i took a sort of softer approach with this one because that's what i as the author needed atm, but rest assured that freaky and mean requests are always welcome.}

♡ every night was like a scratched, skipping record, looping the same little riff until you were sure it had driven you hysterical. why was edward so insistent on seeing the skin he was in as distorted and alien when you saw it as a warm safe haven? why was he so dead set on ripping his body limb from limb when in your eyes, each splatter of freckle, each wisp of hair, each pale purple vein, each and every piece of him was just...perfect?

♡ it plucked and pulled at the strings of your heart, the way he treated himself in moments like these. it only happened in the dark. it only happened under the covers. he'd mumble stop or don't if your eyes lingered on his bare skin for too long as he stripped. for the love of god, he was about to be inside of you! this should feel fun, this should feel safe, this should feel nothing short of completely and entirely comfortable. nothing slit the mood's throat faster than sensing that edward was only doing this because you wanted it. that he was gritting his teeth and fighting back against the bitter taste of insecurity coating his tongue the whole time.

♡ so something needs to be done. that much is crystalline.

♡ it starts off slow, gently spoon-fed, made easy to digest. pretty boy. edward seems to quite like that one. you have a small, crackling fire of hope stoking in your heart that maybe he's starting to believe it. that he's so beautiful, edward. so sweet. such a good little angel.

♡ the response is instantaneous. his fingers dig into your hips. his shallow thrusts become deeper, sloppier, hungrier, starved. he bites his lips and tries to conceal his breathy whimpers, but most of them burst through and come spilling out into the warm, heavy air.

♡ and an idea begins to hatch, more and more pieces of the shell popping off and crumbling apart in your brain as edward's whines become more desperate and frenzied. maybe what he needs is a transformation. something real, something tangible to show him just how much of a pretty boy he really is.

♡ and a transformation it truly is when you wrap the soft, velvety choker around his neck. the way his doughy eyes sparkle and stare up at you as you hook the clasp is deliciously delicate. such a flawless picture it is, and you drink it in with passionate thirst.

♡ this is really what he needed the whole time, it was stupidly clear--he needed somebody to grab hold of the reins. if he wasn't going to believe that he was perfect, somebody else was just going to have to do it for him. that was the goal: an opportunity to be your pristine blank slate.

♡ it's adorably pathetic how jumpy and reactive he is to every light, grazing brush of your fingers around his neck or each squeeze on the plush of his thighs. yet still, you're cautious not to push him too far. he wants to feel good on his own terms, yes? then he can just show you. you can be his attentive, captured audience, waiting with wide eyes and bated breath for every next move.

♡ he rolls in shaky, jagged circles against the pillow. he's already slicked with sweat, and the silver heart pendant on his choker makes metallic rings with each desperate thrust forward.

♡ you're watching as his hands grip the sides of the pillow and splotches of the case darken from the thick precum he's dribbling. you're listening to his moans reach higher in pitch with every back and forth sway of his hips. he wants. god, he needs. needs to feel your soft touch, needs to feel the wet warmth of you squeezing around him, needs you to tug on his hair and force him to look at you dead in the beady eyes; i'm your good boy. i'm your needy bitch.

♡ yeah, that's my pretty slut, isn't it? you'd purr to him. his cheeks would be stained with the reddened rivers of overstimulated tears as you held his face in your hands. gonna cum all over yourself? yeah, gonna make a mess for me? dirty, filthy. i didn't even have to touch you. come on, then. let go for me, sweetheart. c'mon, be a good puppy.

♡ it was almost as if the world had lost a slice of film; he came to, panting, heaving, round cheeks an angry, ragged red. and he needs to hear it right away: you were so, so good, eddie. my sweet boy.

♡ he's grinning, a dazed, euphoria-fueled smile slapped across his face as he pulls the pillow away. you'd have to keep this little game in mind the next time he decided to pick apart the pieces of himself again.

#eli's writing #danonation #paul dano #edward nashton #the riddler #the batman #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler x you #edward nashton x y/n #the riddler x y/n

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navree · 6 months ago

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You keep saying refusing to vote for Biden on moral grounds because of Palestine is ineffective because Trump would be worse, but that really isn't the point. Largely (with the exception of a few extremists and a contingency of people who wouldn't have voted anyways) the philosophy of a movement that has people withhold their vote is to force a significant policy change that wouldn't have changed otherwise. Its a form of protest. I understand from your perspective, election-focused and pragmatic, it is a threat to whoever is running, but if Biden had wanted the votes being withheld he would have capitulated.

Not that this isn't a moot point since he's out, but whatever.

See, this is intensely fucking dumb.

"force a significant policy change" it would not. One, because Biden is the president of the United States, and Israel is not one of those states. Short of sending the CIA to, idk, assassinate Netanyahu in his bed, which most of these people would be against I think because of how much they bitch and moan about US foreign policy at any given opportunity, he cannot actually make an independent foreign power do what he wants and what is electorally convenient for him. Like, I'm very sure Biden would love it if Netanyahu and his partisans stopped acting like fucking freaks for five minutes, if only so that it would stop being a PR nightmare for him. But that's not happening, because he cannot control what Netanyahu does. He could vastly reduce the support the US is providing Israel, and in my view he should, but that's not going to stop what Netanyahu and the Israeli government is doing. Because, I hate to break it to you, but the reason they're carpetbombing Gaza is because they want to be carpetbombing Gaza, and even without US aid they will continue to do it, even it just means with older and less effective weapons. Ultimately, the change that leads to a ceasefire and an end to the war is going to come from the actual parties involved, not Joe Biden.

Two, you've already gotten the significant policy change. Biden has, on multiple occasions now, come out in favor a ceasefire. He has actively been working, along with the Qatari government, to try and broker some kind of peace agreement between Israel and Hamas, but those two keep on fucking it up because they're both run by bloodthirsty psychopaths who don't care one iota about the people they're meant to be governing and only on killing whoever they want. That's been open fact for months now. And it has meant fuckall. The people doing their moral purity about how they'd never vote for Biden were still doing it, just moving the goalposts on what they wanted. First it was ceasefire, then it was 'no ceasefire until [insert impossible demand here] is given', because moving goalposts is what these people do. It's the same mentality as people who saw that Biden was doing COVID stimulus, or cancelling student loans, or reclassifying marijuana, and decided that the issue now was that he wasn't doing enough of it. It's a movement that's been consistently comprised of dogs that caught the car, and are angry that they caught the car because now they can't complain, and they don't want to actually affect meaningful change, they just want to complain because that's easier. And if that's what these people have been doing for his entire presidency, why on Earth would any reasonable person suddenly believe it's different on this one specific issue?

Three, cool you're protesting, then what? Your protest is utterly unserious and completely meaningless if it's not going to have any tangible effects, so what's the next step? You've decided to make your moral purity stance an issue that the vast majority of you learned from infographics on Instagram rather than listening to the voices involved (which is why the red triangle brigade is still a thing on Twitter), so what happens now? No political party is ever going to capitulate entirely to it, because the constituency is just too small (that "uncommitted" gambit was only getting like 10% of the vote wherever it was happening, Biden won over it as a literal write-in candidate in at least one state), so other than the compromise that's already happening, the goalpost movers are gonna withhold their votes because blah blah blah my morals. And their next step is, what? Trump gets elected. And their movement, which has no thought or serious effort put behind it or any actual attempt to provide material aid to the people actually suffering, has helped put a man who is going to be far worse for it in power. The "significant policy change" is going to be that Trump gives Netanyahu whatever he wants and he proceeds to wipe Gaza off the map. The "significant policy change" is that President "Trump Heights" actively makes things worse for the people this protest is supposed to help, as a consequence of that very protest.

It's not about me only being concerned with being "election focused" or some cold hearted bitch. It's about me, as a person who thinks what Israel has been doing since the start is godawful and deeply horrendous, realizing that this entire "protest" is not only asinine but will result in deeply negative consequences and very real harm for the people this protest is purported to be for, and being sickened by that. I live in the real world, and in the real world action speaks far louder than intent. I don't have to acknowledge that the protest wants this or that outcome or what the hypothetical impossible asks that are never going to be answered are, because I understand that they will not matter. What matters is what you get out of your protest, what gains are received, how that protest actually affects change, not the change it gives wishy washy lip service to.

#personal #answered #anonymous #this isn't very eloquent because i've been feeling a bit off all day #but if your protest is not only ineffectual but actually going to make things worse for the people you claim to 'help'#it deserves to be called stupid and be given the disrespect it engenders #i don't CARE about the philosophy behind it #it doesn't matter #it means fuck all that this protest is meant to convey this or that #because the outcome is what matters #the outcome that is going to affect real people who are already suffering #and are certainly not going to have their suffering alleviated if these people don't get their heads out of their asses

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enderwoah · 1 year ago

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im so unwell about q!pac no its not even funny anymore i need to put him in a terrarium up on a shelf and keep him safe up there. he doesn't deserve any bad thing, ever. i don't even care about "having a good story" or "giving your character a conflict" anymore, nah, no, if ONE (1) MORE BAD THING HAPPENS TO HIM IM GONNA LOSE IT!! IM GONNA START BREAKING THINGS!!!

he's so. sad. hes such a sad character. his insecurities about being useless to everyone are so real and so painful because he's not, all of us know that he's not, but we also completely understand why he feels that way because he's had everyone he loves ripped away from him and he hasn't been able to lift a finger to stop any of it. he's just left to sit in the ruins without any help. he's collateral to all the tragedy surrounding him and the favela 5 in general and he's. tired. not in the way that cellbit is tired (though that works, too). he's exhausted of feeling sad all the time. of crying all the time. of feeling that loneliness that gnaws holes into his bones and settles in the marrow and never leaves, not when richas' bed is empty, not when mike's bedroom has started to collect dust, not when he can't see a real, tangible presence in forever's dilated eyes. the only person he has is cellbit, and he could never ask cellbit to give up what he still has when pac has nothing to lose (and god, how selfless, how kind is that?), so when he figures the only way to get an antidote to the drug is to have the drug itself, why wouldn't he offer himself up? and if that wasn't the only reason he tried to get his hands on it, who could blame him?

maybe he took it first to just feel the effects and understand the angle it took in affecting his mind. maybe he just took it for research. do you think he had slipped by the second time? do you think he took it once and, for a short thirty minutes, found that he could forget about all the sorrow lining his lungs and breathe? do you think reality crashed back onto him after that first try? do you think he was scrambling to take it again, to go back to that...maybe it wasn't blissful ignorance, per se, but willful disregard? do you think he couldn't wait to be submerged so deep that he couldn't think one more time? do you think he was hesitant? do you think he kept promising himself, one more, one more, one more...

god he is so. so sad. i was watching phil's pov, so everything was like a neat little movie for me, and just. cellbit and forever arguing while pac was just sobbing in the background was AWFUL. just. awful. it hurt. (cc!pac was damn good at acting, too, and that DID NOT HELP.) the moment he stepped on the trap i felt like i was hit with a brick. like no, of COURSE we should NOT be putting PAC in a CONFINED JAIL CELL. ALONE. and i know it was for his own good but i still felt so so so sick. the way he immediately curled up in the corner. the way he was crying to himself. the way he instantly answered richas' birthday the moment bad asked for it. the way he got visibly more upset and terrified when cellbit started shouting at forever. what the hell. no seriously what the HELL.

and, like, oh my god, making him the one to solve the antidote? proving that even though he may have fallen to the drug (the drug which was basically created by GODS, by the way, lets be real, the federation is nawt normal), he's still so useful. he's still such an asset. he's smart and he's kind and he's charismatic and he's trusting and he's so so selfless and so so brave and so strong. tubbo put it perfectly. the fact that he's gone through all the horrible awful stuff he's gone through and he's still standing just proves how capable he is. how tough he is. cellbit calling him "my dear." pointing out the fact that he sacrificed himself without knowing he was going to come back. "i'm only afraid of being sad again." "you will be sad again. but you won't be alone." he's so. he's just. he's. im frothing at the mouth. he gave himself up to save the rest of the island from this plague that took one of his best friends and might've taken the entire island if he didn't do anything. under that stress. experiencing that level of loss.

pac is one of the toughest goddamn people on the island and if anyone on that server even dares try to imply otherwise i will do heinous heinous things, mark my WORDS.

#writing a post about q!pac isn't enough i need to inject his character directly into my bloodstream (risus-core)#pactw #pac tazercraft #qsmp #qsmp spoilers #cellbit #qsmp richarlyson #forever #mikethelink #mike tazercraft #god he makes me insane #myyyy baby myy baby #you're my baby say it to me #myyyyy baby mmyyyy baaaaabyyy #tell your baby that iiiim youuur baaaabyyy #iiiiii bet on looosinggg doggsss <- going insane #its him he's the losing dog #drug abuse

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lady-menrva · 4 months ago

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PJO Meta (2 of ??)

DISCLAIMER: This post reflects a subjective opinion and should be treated as such. If you don't wish to hear criticism regarding Rick's "diverse representation", please scroll away.

Hot Take: I don't think Nico was good queer representation, and here are my reasons for the same.

Internalized Homophobia

Let me start by saying that his internalized homophobia was well-handled in House of Hades and early Blood of Olympus.

The part of his Pov, where he recounts a tale from Plato about romantic soulmates and wonders where that leaves him, is a moving, poignant, critique of heteronormativity.

Nonetheless, it becomes hard to take his internalized homophobia seriously after it simply sublimates affer meeting Will Solace - He develops an infatuation for the latter and the rest is history.

I am not saying that he should struggle with self-acceptance for the rest of his life. I am simply suggesting that he should receive proper closure for the same. i.e, won't it be much better if he learns that homoromantic attraction is completely normal, natural and healthy? Instead, the narrative never even mentions his struggles with self-acceptance after his meeting with Will, let alone give him proper closure.

His Feelings for Percy

On a similar tangent as the aforementioned argument, Nico having feelings for percy started out as a good thing. It gave Nico's character and actions an extra layer of depth.

However, his love (yes, love) for Percy - simply disappeared to make room for Solangelo (which, with all due respect, is a subpar ship). The OoC confession did not help anything either. Nor did the fact that he got over his years-long love in a moment, somehow.

Coming Out:

I do not think this requires a great deal of explanation. Most readers unanimously agree that it's not okay to drag a severely traumatized teenager through another incredibly traumatizing event, esp. when other alternatives were present.

For eg- he chooses to come out to Hazel because he can't take the weight of his feelings any more. This could have also been an important moment for their relationship.

Lastly, outing your queer character (by forcible outing) in such a way is obviously very problematic.

Ostracization

Nico was clearly set-up to be the outcast all the way from the Son of Neptune to the House of Hades . The "He pushed everyone way" plot point did not make a concrete, tangible appearance until Blood of Olympus.

His ostracization arc is important as it is directly tied to his internalized homophobia and is significant to his presence as queer representation. Yet, by having this poorly retconned to "it was all in your head"(unsurprisingly, for solangelo), Rick did a dis-service Nico as a character and as queer rep. (The pushing everyone away schtick could have worked. Just not the way it was in canon.)

Conclusion

Since so many indispensable aspects of Nico's identity as a gay character are poorly handled, it becomes very hard to lake him seriously as good LGBTQ+ rep.

#nico di angelo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #anti solangelo #blood of olympus #house of hades #percy jackson #anti will solace #will solace #pjo meta #anti rick riordan #rr crit #anti pjo fandom #son of neptune #mark of athena #the trials of apollo #the hidden oracle #tower of nero #hazel levesque

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slyscoutess · 9 months ago

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paring: enzo vogrincic x fem!reader [ no faceclaim ] summary: your boyfriend, enzo, needs to lose a lot of weight during the filming of his new movie. You decided that you wouldn't let it be a torture for him, discovering and sharing new recipes together. writer: I always find myself thinking about Enzo talking about how it was a great time for him, the time he needed to lose weight. And I got the little idea of him being quite domestic with his girlfriend, trying out those new recipes that would help with the weight loss journey.

( tradução para o português )

liked by franromerofran, vogrincicenzo, annafntoni and 123 others

yourusername It's been 84 years since this house went on a mandatory diet, mainly because I wouldn't leave Enzo completely alone in this, and now father and son are both kinda grumpy

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simonhempe pipito suffering from having to eat healthily, just like me fr

yourusername He is suffering because his father can no longer spoil him with food, gato arruinado

moratodeschini give the cat what he wants, the man I don't really care????

kuku.esteban I'm in favor of hiring pipo to act in pipe's place, almost same name

rocco.posca wtf??? Why does your breakfast seem to be tastier than it should be??

matiasrecalt My meals are so tasteless I'm thinking about throwing myself off the cabbage tree vogrincicenzo thank god is my girlfriend who cook this type of thing for me

pipegonzalezotano missing real food hour

paubaldini this seems soo good, i'm gonna ugly cry

Enzo woke up that morning with a sense of calm and determination that enveloped him like a gentle hug. The sunlight, filtered through the partly open curtains, painted the room with a golden aura, making him feel as though he were immersed in a peaceful dream. Nestled between soft sheets, he allowed his mind to adjust to waking up, absorbing the serenity that permeated the environment. The enticing aroma of coffee wafted through the air, filling him with anticipation and comfort. He knew, without needing to get up, that his girlfriend was already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast with care and love. It was a ritual of connection, a way to start the day together, sharing not only meals but also dreams and aspirations.

The weight loss journey for his role in "The Snow Society" had become more than just a professional goal. It had become a central part of their lives, a shared journey that strengthened their bond and united them in a common purpose. They had embraced this journey together, facing challenges and celebrating victories side by side. Every morning, as they smelled the fresh coffee and contemplated the soft light flooding the room, they renewed their mutual commitment to care for each other and themselves. It was more than just losing weight for a role; it was about taking care of their bodies, nurturing their minds, and strengthening their relationship through mutual support and camaraderie.

With a gentle yawn, Enzo stretched in bed, letting the last remnants of sleep escape his body. Wearing his comfortable pajama shorts, he prepared for another day filled with challenges and adventures alongside his partner. Aware of the possibilities the day held, he filled himself with determination and curiosity, readily willing to face whatever came his way. As he stepped through the partly open door of the kitchen, Enzo was greeted by the familiar and comforting sound of hot water passing through the coffee filter. The welcoming aroma filled the room, enveloping him in an aura of comfort and familiarity. His girlfriend was focused, her skilled hands carefully cutting fresh fruits, ready to compose the perfect breakfast. The morning ritual of preparing the first meal of the day together was a tangible expression of their love and mutual commitment.

As he watched his partner work with skill, Enzo couldn't help but smile at Pipo, the couple's lazy cat, elegantly stretched out on the counter, lazily watching the kitchen activity. The feline was a constant presence in their lives, bringing comfort and joy with its serene and indolent personality. Enzo approached the counter, enveloping his girlfriend in a hug from behind, planting a loving kiss on her neck. The atmosphere was imbued with a tranquil serenity, as if the very air were suffused with an aura of peace. The gentle clinking of knives cutting fresh fruit was the only sound breaking the silence, creating a delicate and comforting melody that filled the kitchen. Enzo, entering quietly, contemplated the scene with a sense of calm and admiration.

His girlfriend was immersed in her work, her graceful and precise movements revealing the dedication and care she put into each task, not only in meal preparation but also in nurturing their relationship. Every fruit cut was executed with a mastery that denoted years of practice and love for the culinary arts. Enzo watched her with a sparkle in his eyes, marveling at his partner's skill and grace. It was as if she were dancing among the ingredients, moving with a natural harmony and fluidity that captivated his heart. In her delicate gestures, he saw not only a master in the kitchen but also a committed companion intent on making every shared moment special and meaningful.

As the sunlight gently spilled through the window, illuminating the scene with golden hues, Enzo felt inundated with a sense of gratitude and tenderness. That was the essence of the life they had built together: simple moments, yet laden with love and mutual care. And in that moment, as he stood there, silently admiring her, Enzo knew there was no place he'd rather be than by her side, sharing every small moment of the journey they had chosen to walk together.

Enzo felt a comforting warmth spread through his chest as he wrapped his girlfriend in a hug from behind, his arms enveloping her with tenderness and protection. The delicate scent emanating from her enveloped him like an invisible embrace, flooding his senses with a feeling of familiarity and love. She was more than his partner; she was his anchor amidst the storms of life, his source of comfort and strength in times of adversity. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Enzo allowed himself to sink into that moment of shared intimacy, letting himself be carried away by the comforting sensation of being with the person he loved. Each beat of his heart seemed to echo the deep bond they shared, strengthening their connection and renewing his determination to face the challenges that lay ahead.

As his arms embraced his girlfriend, Enzo felt her gently interrupt the fruit cutting, her fingers sliding down his arm with a gentle caress. It was as if she could read his thoughts, sharing not only his concerns about the necessary weight loss for the role but also his determination to make this journey as bearable and rewarding as possible for both of them. It was in moments like these, surrounded by the calm of the morning and the comforting presence of each other, that Enzo found strength and inspiration to keep moving forward. Knowing they had each other to lean on, to share the joys and burdens of life, was an invaluable gift that he would never cease to cherish.

Enzo knew well that she had delved headfirst into extensive research, consulting nutritionists and exploring various approaches to diet and weight loss. Every article read, every conversation with experts, was an incessant quest for knowledge, an attempt to find the most effective and healthy path to achieve their goals. Her determination was palpable, and Enzo deeply admired her tireless dedication. Together, they had turned all that knowledge into action, developing a carefully crafted meal plan. Every meal was meticulously planned, ensuring they received all the necessary nutrients to sustain their bodies during the intense weight loss process. However, the plan wasn't just about nutritional aspects; they also made sure that each dish was an enjoyable gastronomic experience, preserving the taste and pleasure of food.

Enzo felt a profound sense of gratitude for having such a dedicated and loving partner by his side. She not only shared their goals but also invested her time and energy to ensure they achieved success together. It was a clear demonstration of the mutual commitment they nurtured, not only regarding weight loss but also in building and strengthening their relationship. As the comforting aroma of coffee filled the kitchen, Enzo took a moment to appreciate the tranquility of the moment. There, next to his partner, he knew that no matter how challenging the road ahead might be, they would be together.

liked by pipegonzalezotano, matiasrecalt, paulabaldini and 104 others

yourusername Today's lunch featured seafood, and for dessert, Enzo stole tangerines from the neighbor and pretended it was normal (which it probably is for him, since we don't buy tangerines and he's always eating one).

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kuku.esteban Tomorrow it will be in all the newspapers in Latin America: Uruguayan actor steals mixiricas and an INCAPABLE elderly man

vongrincicenzo incapable is me, that old man is in excellent condition

franromerofran stop immediately, you are prohibited from posting delicious food

yourusername that's my boyfriend fran franromerofran STOP

pipegonzalezotano NO MORE SALAD I BEG YOU

rocco.posca Another day, another desire to live in the Vogrincic house

feliperamusiomora petition for enzo to let us sleep on his couch vogrincicenzo petition denied, and don't listen to nena, she shouldn't agree

agustinpardella I can smell the shrimp in the photo, I'm going crazy

alfosinacarrocio I'm stopping in front of your house immediately

Enzo was sitting on the balcony of the apartment, immersed in his lines as he reviewed the script for his next project. The golden afternoon sun bathed the surroundings, gently warming his face and illuminating the space around him. The warm breeze blew softly, carrying with it the fresh scent of flowers from the garden below.

However, even amidst his concentration, something caught his attention. His eyes diverted from the paper and fixed on the tangerine trees in the front house. It was a simple yet captivating sight. The branches laden with small citrus fruits swayed gently in the wind, creating a delicate and mesmerizing dance. That old house had always held a charm over Enzo since he and his girlfriend moved into the apartment. The weathered walls and windows adorned with lace curtains evoked a sense of nostalgia and romance that he simply adored. But it was the tangerine trees that truly fascinated him.

Every time he looked at those small bushes, Enzo was transported to a place of tranquility and calm. With determination, Enzo carefully placed Pipo, his sleepy cat that was on his lap, onto the balcony table. He felt the slight weight of the feline transfer to the wood as he rose, ready to venture out. The sun still gently bathed the surroundings, casting playful shadows across the furniture.

Enzo leaned, but did not close, the balcony door silently, letting the cat enjoy the fresh air as he ventured outside. Passing through the kitchen, a delicious aroma of home-cooked food enveloped him. His girlfriend, wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and denim shorts, was focused on preparing lunch. Her hair fell casually over her shoulders as she skillfully stirred a pot. A wave of desire washed over him as he saw her there, so natural and beautiful in the simplicity of that everyday moment. Enzo felt an intense urge to approach her, to envelop her in his arms and whisper words of love. But he resisted, knowing he had a mission to accomplish that day.

With a discreet smile on his lips, Enzo restrained himself, averting his gaze with determination. With careful steps, he left the house and closed the door with a gentle click, ensuring there was no noise to disturb the tranquility inside. The wood of the door fit perfectly into the frame, as if cooperating with his intention to leave without attracting attention.

As the sun began to bathe the kitchen with its golden rays, the current cook of the house began to feel the gentle touch of Pipo sliding down her leg. She was surprised by the cat's presence there, knowing that at that time, he would probably be enjoying the sun on the balcony with Enzo. With a curious smile, she bent down to pet the feline and asked in a soft voice, "What are you doing here, Pipo? Where's your dad?" Pipo looked at her with his large curious eyes but made no sound in response. His tail moved slowly from side to side, as if subtly communicating something.

Intrigued, the woman picked up the cat and decided to investigate. With light steps and the cat nestled between her arms, she headed to the balcony, where she hoped to find her boyfriend. Upon reaching the glass door that separated the kitchen from the outdoor space, a gentle breeze caressed her face, bringing with it the fresh scent of plants and flowers. Her eyes scanned the balcony, looking for Enzo, but he wasn't there. She furrowed her brow, confused by his absence, but her heart warmed at the tranquil and serene scene before her. The sun's rays painted everything with golden hues, creating an atmosphere of peace and serenity.

With a contented sigh, Enzo's girlfriend approached the table, where Pipo used to settle next to his boyfriend. She imagined Enzo there, immersed in his thoughts or perhaps reviewing the script while the cat slept peacefully by his side. Realizing that Enzo wasn't on the balcony, his girlfriend began to search for him, talking to Pipo as she looked around. "Where did your dad go?" she muttered, while the cat meowed in response, as if trying to help in the search.

Her gaze eventually found Enzo in the front house, using his t-shirt to make a basket and pick tangerines from the neighbor's tree. With a playful smile, she greeted the man who lived in the house, saying, "Good morning, Mr. Oliveira!"

Enzo, surprised by his girlfriend's sudden appearance, quickly looked up and, in doing so, lost his balance, dropping some of the fruits he had picked, feeling somewhat embarrassed as he tried to retrieve the tangerines that had rolled out of the makeshift basket. His girlfriend chuckled softly at the situation, approaching to help him gather the fallen fruits. Enzo smiled, feeling relieved that it was just another playful joke from his beloved, until the voice of the neighboring gentleman emerged not as distant as he would have liked. "Good morning, dear, how's your afternoon going?" he addressed the neighbor with a wave, working in his garden not so far from the tangerine trees. Enzo's eyes widened quickly; it was clear that she would know about it, taking time to talk to her neighbor when she wasn't working and Enzo wasn't home. Enzo and his girlfriend looked at each other, sharing a knowing smile before Enzo quickly ran back to his apartment, leaving the freshly picked tangerines on the kitchen counter. Upon arriving home, he found his girlfriend still chatting with the neighbor on the balcony. He smiled to see her so comfortable but decided to surprise her and continue playing the role of the good guy to the old man who lived in the house across the street.

With light steps, Enzo pretended to leave the house for the first time that day, yawning exaggeratedly and stretching as he approached her from behind. The gentle breeze played with his hair as he approached, his loose t-shirt adorning his body casually. One of his hands slid gently to her waist, while the other stretched in a theatrical yawn. He leaned in to gently kiss the top of her head, his lips brushing lightly against her hair as he spoke.

"Ah, good morning, babe," he murmured sleepily, trying to maintain a tone of surprise in his voice. "Good morning, Mr. Oliveira!" his voice now a bit louder, as he greeted the neighbor, waving gently to him, who waved back. His girlfriend turned with a smile on her lips as she felt Enzo's touch, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she realized what he was doing, deciding to play along. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she replied, laughing softly. "Are you aware that it's already lunchtime?"

Enzo laughed, feeling happy to be sharing that relaxed moment with her. "You know how it is, I was up late last night, it was reealy hard to sleep," he joked, gently squeezing his girlfriend's waist in a loving gesture. The neighbor, who was watching the scene with a friendly smile, once again drew the couple's attention, engaging in a new conversation with the woman, occasionally bringing up Enzo, who, in turn, smiled at the neighbor, conveying an impression of courtesy and friendliness, but his thoughts were fully focused on the woman by his side.

Unable to resist the growing desire within him, Enzo let his hands slowly descend to her hips, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, which soon wandered to one side of her ass, still pretending normalcy, as if listening to the whole conversation. He gently squeezed it, conveying a subtle signal of possessiveness and affection as the conversation continued. Time seemed to slow down as they exchanged words with the neighbor, but inside, Enzo was eager for the moment when they would be alone again. Each touch, each glance exchanged with his girlfriend only heightened his longing for her.

As Enzo enveloped his girlfriend in a passionate embrace, she gently interrupted the effusive exchange of affection to address a few words to the neighbor, who was still watching from below. "Mr. Oliveira, I think it's time for lunch. Let's resume this conversation later, okay?" she said, smiling at the man as she slowly moved away from Enzo's embrace.

The neighbor nodded understandingly. "Of course, no problem! See you later, kids," he replied with a friendly smile before heading back to his house. With the brief interaction concluded, Enzo's girlfriend turned to him, ready to resume the moment of intimacy they had interrupted. However, before she could say anything, she felt Enzo's head bury into her neck, his arms wrapping around her from behind.

She sighed softly, feeling a shiver run down her spine with the light kisses Enzo left on her neck. It was a simple gesture, but filled with affection and tenderness, which made her feel loved and desired. The kisses gradually turned into nibbles, causing the woman to lean back into her boyfriend's warm touch, who in turn pressed his hips more against hers, his lips delicately moving to her ear. "Let's go inside, babe, I need to eat something…" he whispered in her ear, his voice husky and incredibly endearing, he knew well when and how to use it. "Lunch is ready, we can serve ourselves now, my love," she commented. Enzo chuckled playfully at her response, squeezing her more in his arms with tenderness. "Always thinking about food, huh?" He said with a teasing smile, his lips gently brushing against her neck as he spoke. "But I think I can make an effort not to completely exhaust you, after all, the smell of lunch is so good that it would be a sin not to enjoy it later," he whispered, before pulling her back into the house again.

liked by agustinpardella, kuku.esteban, paulabaldini and 113 others

yourusername Time to replenish some shortages in the fridge, and Pipito decided he didn't want to leave Enzo's lap, or was it Enzo who decided not to let go of the cat?

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moratodeschini Living or just waiting for the moment when I'll steal Enzo's cat and girl?

vongrincicenzo please don't feliperamusiomora I'm right here, you know?

simonhempe pipito just living the life I dream of

yourusername you dream abou my boyfriend's lap? vogrincicenzo I also dream about u

pipegonzalezotano your fridge must be very sad

rocco.posca just waiting for her to decide what they are going to eat for dinner so she can give me the drive with the recipes for my menu for tomorrow

matiasrecalt Rocco said something about uploads a recipe drive every night, nena send it to me

kuku.esteban It's good that you went out shopping and aren't stealing from other people's houses

agustinpardella Who's to say they didn't steal from the market? jeronimogiocondobosia and tomorrow in the daily newspaper . . .

As Enzo and his partner walked through the aisles filled with shelves brimming with colorful and aromatic ingredients, a package of pasta caught her attention. With a smile on her lips, she picked it up, displaying it with a curious gaze. "What kind of sauce do you prefer today, love?" Her voice carried a note of curiosity, as if she were ready to venture into creating a new dish. Enzo, staring at the package with anticipation in his eyes, considered for a moment before replying, his smile widening as he imagined the flavors blending perfectly.

"How about a well-seasoned tomato sauce?" he suggested, his mind already running through the steps to prepare the dish. He could visualize the fresh tomatoes being cut into juicy pieces, the aroma of garlic browning in the pan, and the spices dancing around, ready to transform the simple pasta into a culinary masterpiece. His partner nodded with a smile of approval and said softly, "You know, I was thinking, we could try that recipe we saw on TikTok? It looked delicious and would be a great option for breakfast."

Enzo smiled, agreeing with the idea. "We can do that tomorrow morning. I think it will be a perfect way to start the day." As they continued to wait in line at the checkout, Enzo felt a comforting warmth as he held his partner's hand. It was a simple gesture, but it filled his heart with love and gratitude. He realized how lucky he was to have someone so special by his side.

Enzo looked at his partner and said with a sincere smile, "You always have the best ideas . . ." He quickly heard his girlfriend's laughter, as she hugged onto his arm, a great deal of affection in her laughter. As they waited in the checkout line, the tranquil atmosphere of the market seemed to envelop them in a cocoon of intimacy. Enzo felt her body heat drawing closer, and before he could realize it, she gently rested her face on his shoulder, their gazes meeting in a moment of complicity. Her eyes sparkled with tenderness as they looked at him, conveying a feeling of affection and connection that filled Enzo's heart with a sweet sensation of love. He could feel the warmth of her breath, each beat of her heart seemed to echo in perfect harmony with his own. Without thinking too much, Enzo let his instincts guide his actions. With an almost instinctive gentleness, he leaned forward slightly, capturing her lips in a quick and delicate kiss. It was a simple gesture, but full of meaning, an expression of affection that spoke volumes without the need for words. Her lips responded to the touch, their hearts dancing in unison, sealing the moment with a sweet promise of mutual love and unconditional support. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, lost in their own little universe of affection and love.

"I have to start changing supermarkets," Enzo and his partner were immersed in their own world, lost in the sweet moment they shared, when a familiar voice interrupted their bubble of intimacy. It was the lively voice of Matias Recalt, certainly the couple's best and closest friend, approaching with a shopping basket. "A little modesty, please," exclaimed Matias, with a playful smile on his face. Enzo and his partner quickly separated, blushing slightly at the surprise of being caught in such an intimate moment. They exchanged quick glances, sharing a shy smile before greeting Matias. "Hi, Matias!" said Enzo, trying to disguise his surprise. "How are you?" Matias laughed, noticing the slight tension in the air. "Sorry for interrupting your romantic moment. I hope I was being intrusive!" The woman laughed, shaking her head. "Don't worry, Matias, we just got a little distracted." Enzo agreed, relieved to see Matias's easygoing nature. "Oh, didn't even notice."

As they waited in the checkout line, the conversation between the three flowed naturally, as it always did when they were together. Matias shared some funny stories about his day, and Enzo couldn't help but laugh, while his partner smiled, enjoying the friends' banter.

Meanwhile, they went through their purchases, each carrying their baskets towards the checkout. The atmosphere was light and relaxed, and Enzo felt grateful for the presence of their friends. When it was finally their turn at the checkout, Matias bid them farewell with a wave, wishing them a good night. Enzo and his partner thanked him for the enjoyable encounter and exchanged more smiles before heading out of the market.

The cool night air enveloped them as they exited, and Enzo and his girlfriend walked together towards their parked bicycles. They intertwined their hands, a simple yet meaningful connection that symbolized the support and affection they shared.

"And that would be another almost end of the day," said Enzo, looking at his partner with a smile. She nodded, agreeing. "Yes, even though it was interrupted at the end."

Enzo laughed, agreeing with her. "True, I found it funny he wrote down everything you bought so he could cook tomorrow." They reached their bicycles and, together, mounted them, ready to head back home.

liked by matiasrecalt, blaspolidori, dellagustin and 109 others

yourusername Ending the day with the cast on The Sims.

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blaspolidori enzo playing himself playing on the sims

yourusername he was planning our wedding vogrincicenzo and you're the flower boy, blas

simonhempe everyone of the cast?

yourusername there are some that are not filmbayona I am? yourusername yes, but you mysteriously starved

pipegonzalezotano tell me that at least then I'm watching football eating real meat

rocco.posca I hope you downloaded a mod for my hair

matiasrecalt I love this game I'm the same height as blas

moratodeschini should we tell Enzo that she has wicked whims??

alfosinacarrocio let's wait for the reaction vogrincicenzo guys . . . it was so much out of nowhere

After a peaceful and comforting night, Enzo and his girlfriend decided to spend some time together playing The Sims. Sitting comfortably on his lap, she skillfully held the mouse while he watched attentively at the computer screen, immersed in the virtual world unfolding before them. Together, they built a small fictional community with characters from the movie cast, with every detail carefully planned to reflect their tastes and personalities. Enzo was fascinated watching his girlfriend's creativity flow as she decorated the houses, chose the furniture, and planned the sims' careers. It was as if they were creating their own world, where they could escape the daily worries and get lost in imaginary adventures.

As she delved into the game, Enzo appreciated the opportunity to simply observe her, marveling at how her expression brightened with every achievement and challenge overcome. Feeling the warmth of her presence on his lap was comforting, a constant reminder of the love and companionship they shared. Enzo watched closely at the computer screen as his girlfriend manipulated the game controls. Suddenly, an interaction between the sim representing him and the one representing his girlfriend caught his attention. He watched with fascination as the sims exchanged gestures of affection, somehow reflecting the dynamics of their own relationship.

However, his surprise soon turned to shock when suddenly the game activated a mod known as Wicked Whims. His face twisted in a expression of surprise and confusion as he witnessed the explicitly romantic interactions between the sims, far beyond what he was used to seeing in the game. Turning to his girlfriend, who was still comfortably seated on his lap, Enzo asked incredulously, "What's going on? Is this how the game is now?" His voice carried a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty as he tried to process what he had just witnessed. She simply smiled gently, noticing his confusion. With a reassuring touch on his shoulder, she explained that this was not the game in its original form, but rather a fan-made modification to add a new layer of realism and complexity to the sims' interactions."Oh, so our reality is to just start hooking up out of nowhere?"

"It's not like you can keep those hands off me…" Enzo chuckled at his girlfriend's response. His laughter was a mix of relief and amusement as he settled comfortably in the chair, his hands automatically gently squeezing her waist, as if seeking closer contact to dispel the surprise. As his fingers lightly caressed her waist, Enzo felt comforted by her presence on his lap. "Apparently she's eating for two now… maybe we could try that out here too, right nena?"

#🍂 - slyscountess smau #enzo vogrincic fanfic #enzo vogrincic imagine #enzo vogrincic smau #enzo vogrincic fluff #enzo vogrincic smut #enzo vogrincic x you #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic #la sociedade de la nieve #the society of the snow

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cherryrainn · 11 months ago

Note

hi mootie, may I request eddie munson angst to fluff :3 gn reader

HURT .

; pairing ; eddie munson x reader

; note ; i love him so much oh my god THANK YOU MOOTIE MWAH oh yeah and eddie isn't dead in this he made it through the whole vecna thing WOO

; warnings ; depiction of emotional distress, despair, self-harm, and self-destructive thoughts

you sat in your room, surrounded by the darkness that seemed to swallow you whole. tears stained your cheeks as you stared blankly at the walls, feeling so lost and alone.

the echoes of eddie's laughter from your last d&d session rang in your ears, a bitter reminder of happier times.

but reality was a cruel mistress, and it had dealt you a hand you couldn't bear to play, the whole thing with the upside down and the vecna was killing you, even though it was over.

eddie munson was the only one who understood. he saw past the facade you wore for the world, and he loved you.

you longed to tell him, to pour out your heart and soul until there was nothing left but the raw, jagged edges of your pain. but the words would always get caught in your throat, suffocated by fear and shame.

"you okay?" eddie's voice shattered the silence, pulling you back from the edge of despair. you completely forgot he was in your room.

you forced a weak smile, hoping to convince both him and yourself that everything was fine. "yeah. just a rough day. nothing i can't handle."

but eddie wasn't buying it. his piercing gaze bore into you,. "don't gimme that. i know you better than you know yourself. come on, talk to me."

you sighed. "really, eddie, i said i'm fine. just drop it"

his brow furrowed as he took a step closer. "no, i can't. i wanna help."

you felt the heat rise in your chest. why couldn't he just leave it alone? "i don't need your help. i can handle my own problems. it's okay."

his concern turned to determination. "stop doing that, y/n. i care about you. a lot. i'm not just gonna stand here and do nothing."

"well, maybe i don't need you to stand by!" the words were sharper than you intended, but the frustration bubbled over.

he took a step back, hurt flashing in his eyes. "what's gotten into you? i'm just trying to be here for you."

and that's when the guilt hit you. his face, filled with genuine concern, made you feel like you'd slapped him. but you were too stubborn to back down.

"you're killing me, eddie! i can handle myself," you shouted, your frustration boiling over into anger.

eddie's shock was evident, and a heavy silence hung in the air. that voice slithered into your mind, the cold grip of fear tightening. he's scared because of you. you shouldn't exist. all you do is hurt people.

his hurt expression fueled the turmoil within you. the anger dissipated, replaced by a bitter taste of regret. you didn't like hurting him.

"i didn't mean it like that," you muttered, your voice softer now. but the damage was done.

eddie shook his head, his eyes clouded with hurt. "maybe i should just give you some space."

the room felt colder as he sat there. he's scared because of you. you shouldn't exist.

the realization hit you like a ton of bricks – you were your own worst enemy, hurting the one person who cared the most.

you stared at the blanket, the fabric a blurry mess as tears welled up in your eyes. your chest felt tight, and a voice in your head whispered, you're messed up.

without even thinking, your trembling hands found their way to your arms. you started pinching yourself. the sting of pain seemed to momentarily drown out the chaos in your mind. you pulled at the skin, desperate for some tangible sensation to distract you from the overwhelming emotions.

you didn't even realize what you were doing until someone gently took hold of your hands. startled, you looked up through tear-filled eyes to see eddie kneeling in front of you.

"y/n," he said softly, his eyes filled with concern. "i wanna help you. please, let me help you." he was begging you.

you looked down at your hands, and his warm touch sent a shiver down your spine. your hands were shaking, and you could feel the warmth of eddie's hands against yours, his rings cool to the touch.

but then, you noticed something. eddie's hands were shaking too.

a realization washed over you – the person sitting in front of you wasn't some invincible hero. eddie was human, just like you, with his own fears and struggles. the weight of your own troubles felt a little less burdensome, knowing you weren't alone.

eddie's concern softened into a gentle offer. "is there anything you want? like... water, a blanket, anything?"

you nodded slowly, grateful for his kindness. "water would be nice, thanks, eddie."

as eddie stood to leave, you hesitated. "wait! stay," you blurted out.

he turned back, surprise flickering in his eyes. "okay," he said, taking a seat beside you on the bed.

the room felt a little warmer with eddie's presence. he looked at you, waiting for you to speak.

"thanks," you said, your voice soft. "i'm sorry for pushing you away. i didn't mean to hurt you."

eddie shook his head,. "don't be sorry. nothing to be sorry for. you didn't hurt me."

a small smile tugged at your lips. "thanks for staying, eddie. i appreciate it."

he grinned, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "anytime, y/n."

#EDDIE MUNSON #stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things fic #eddie munson x reader #y/n #reader insert #x reader #ask #angst #fluff #angst to fluff #stranger things x reader

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thatoneguydownthestreet · 2 years ago

Note

Yo! I really love your apocalypse yuu writings I keep coming back to see if it has updated.

I read the Lilia finds out part and when I read the "Epel gave Yuu an apple and he didn't know what it was" it got me thinking about it all night.

How would the first years react to Yuu not eating anything at all(probably other than bread) because he doesn't know what those foods are?

________________________________

FEM ALIGNED DNI

Yuus pronouns are he/him, although they're mentioned briefly

This is barely proofread so please excuse the grammar mistakes.

Featuring: Epel, Ace, Duece, Jack, and sebek (there is implied lilia at the very end but it is literally one sentence)

Warnings: Talks of starvation, Yuu's illness, and survivers guilt, so skip this if you're uncomfortable with any of that.

Also I know it's been over a month. I have no excuse. I just didn't feel like it. But I have been teaching myself how to draw so I can be a bigger simp to Jamil so that's fun ig.

________________________________

Damn bro, you really don't know shit huh?

Epel was excited, to say the least.

I mean, could you really blame him? It's not everyday that you get a big ol' crate full of the apples that you were raised with.

By all means, epel should've been long sick of eating apples. Having them almost everyday for majority of his life, dried and dehydrated in the winter, and fresh and juicy in the spring and summer.

But no, no epel felmeir loves those apples. Every single one he ate seemed to effortlessly send him back to the simpler times of his childhood. Where he would send hours upon hours avoiding his siblings and playing games with his cousins in the orchards and taking naps in the sun while he waited for his meemaws infamous apple pies to finish baking. And meemaw would almost always let him have the first slice! Of the ones she wasn't going to sell at least.

He really missed her...

He'd have to ask her to bake him another one this winter.

But just getting to read the letter she had wrote, along with his parents and one of the towns kids that always followed him around like a lost baby duck, put a smile on his face.

Yeah. He'd get to see them soon, and once he graduates, he can get them more money, and be strong enough to protect them if it ever came to that.

Unfortunately, as great as his parents apples were, they couldn't fight the natural forces of time.

Dear sevens- they'd sent him nearly three dozen apples! All high quality too... it shouldn't effect sales too much. The orchards were big, and his parents would rather give up that expensive family heir loom necklace that his mother always wore than start selling spoiled apples.

But still, epel couldn't possibly eat thirty-six apples before they all started to rot. Plus, he didn't know how long they took to ship to the isle of sages, so that cut the time frame even shorter.

.....Does Jack like apples?

Should he even be considering giving Jack an apple to begin with? Their relationship was pretty vague. We're they actually friends or just study buddies?

Study buddies can give eachother gifts too right? And plus, it's food, not a 24 carrot gold ring or something crazy like that.

It should be fine. Maybe he'll give one to ace too. They were friends. Surely.

Ace trappola would say he was a good friend. I mean, he wasn't the best by any means, but he was decent.

Yeah, he could be kind of a dick. But who isn't at this point, honestly, even deuce, even cater had their moments.

But he was still someone the people in his life could go to for things, usually physically, tangible this like food or an extra ball or something, but he wasn't completely useless when it came to emotions either.

You could come to him if something was bothering you. He probably won't help you actually fix it but he can at least make you laugh.

So why didn't you want to laugh?

You had taken your mask off a few weeks ago. And like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on him he realized it was the first time he ever saw you eat any food here at all.

Were you eating at all before then? What about water?

Thank the seven you were only here for around a week. But surely, you were dehydrated.

(You were definitely dehydrated. Deuce gave you a water bottle and you chugged it like it was your only chance at life. Which, to be fair, it probably was your only chance at life.)

Ace didn't know what your life was like before.

Ace didn't want to know either.

He didn't do well with heavy topics, always changing the subject when one came up unless he was personally involved in some way.

Other people life didn't concern him, and that was something he lived by.

...but still.

This was going a bit too far, don't you think?

Ace shot a look to deuce, clear concern instead of the regular teasing, which caught his roomates attention faster than he thought it would.

Ok. So deuce had noticed too.

Just goes to show how obvious it was that something is very wrong here.

Now, because ace had never asked, and he probably never will, he didn't know what your relationship with food was like before you came here. But. It couldn't have been this right?

A person couldn't only survive on some bread and room temperature water, right?

You sat across from him at your guy's unofficial table in the cafeteria, drinking the water at a moderate pace, as you didn't want to deal with another scolding from a certain housewarden, doing your best to keep a careful eye on grim as he went to go get his food from the lunch line.

And thank the seven for that, really. If grim turned back and saw that you weren't watching him for even a second, who knows that kind of ruckus would result?

But all that aside, you were still scarily underweight. Seriously perfect, how were you even alive?

Ace looked at deuce again. Deuce looked back.

He sighed.

Ace never, ever thought he would do something like this.

But for sevens sake, you were one of his best friends. And Ace will be damned if he just let you do this to yourself.

So with a deep breathe, he looked at you, and then turned back to what he was pretty sure was an ex-gang member, and nodded.

And for once, deuce understood.

They had to do something.

You reminded Deuce Spade of that stray cat that his mother would always feed when he was a child.

Underweight, scared, scarred, and confused.

Always having an air if caution and paranoia, ready to react, as if anything could just jump out and grab you at any time.

But you weren't a cat, were you?

No. You were a person. Someone his age, maybe younger, that had obviously seen horrors he couldn't even understand. Which just made this whole situation even sadder.

Because if you lived like this, then what the hell was stopping him? What about his mother? What was stopping her from having the same fate?

Duece ignored the memories of his mother giving him food and taking none for herself, saying she wasn't hungry.

But he couldn't quite ignore them, nor could he ignore the pit in his stomach whenever he looked at you.

...Listen perfect, he doesn't know what you went through to be like this, but he knows damn well this isn't normal.

It can't be normal. Hiding this much food underneath your floorboards couldn't ever be normal.

The two of you were just hanging out in your room in Ramshakle. Grim was in the lounge, he was sure, and you had stared off into space before asking the date.

When he told you, you had a look of slight panic as you ripped the rug off from its place on the floor, and started pulling apart the boards.

And what for?

The reveal of a large stash of food, mostly non-perishables, but a few snacks here and there too.

Snacks that were about to expire, apparently.

You turned to look back at him, a sheepish look on your face, and what looked like a bag if chips in your hand.

Deuce didn't know what face he was making.

He just knew it wasn't one he'd want you to see

If someone were to ask Jack howl if he was your friend. He wouldn't know to to say.

I mean yeah, you helped save his entire dorms ass way back when, yeah, you and him absolutely went throught it during azuls little "episode", and yeah, the two of you had plenty of mutual friends.

But we're the two of you friends?

Jack wasn't sure.

Because by all accounts, you should be.

It didn't change the fact that you weren't. Not really. Not by his definition and not by yours.

So what were you?

Well, you weren't friends. That was already established. And you were too close to be acquaintances (he didn't think acquaintance fell asleep on each other in the botanical gardens, only to wake up five minutes till curfew and just haul ass back to their respective dorms with smiles on their faces), so...what did that leave?

Well... I guess it left this.

"Eat it"

"....huh?"

Jack didn't know you that well. But that didn't mean he couldn't see..this happening. And it definitely didn't mean he didn't care.

So here he was. Holding a pastrami sandwich about an inch away from your face, silently begging you to just shut up and eat it.

Come on perfect, he bought this with his own money. Just humor him, please.

You eyed the sandwich like it was the most untrustworthy thing you'd ever seen. Jack's not going to lie, it kind of hurt.

But it wouldn't matter if you ate it, so he sucked it up.

...at least he would if you'd actually take the fucking sandwich.

Seriously, it was starting to tick him off.

Jack briefly considered just varying off and giving the sandwich to ruggie or something, or just eating it himself. He wasn't the biggest fan of pastrami but who knows, maybe the school made it better.

Honestly, he probably would have done just that if the image if you leaning against the wall looking ready to pass out from, what he knew, was malnutrition.

The event itself actually happened around two weeks ago, give or take. Jack thinks the only real reason he remembers it so well is because, well, it was the moment.

The defining moment, the moment where it just clicked that something was very wrong here.

He already knew that of course, I mean, look at you.

But as it turns out, watching someone actively starve to death in front of you will keep you up at night.

His mind turned to ruggie for a split second, before forcibly shoving that thought down where all the other thoughts he didn't want to think about were.

Like that time when he was a kid with a crush on Vil....yeah, Jack's happy he got o er that one to say the least. Nothing against Vil, he's a great friend and all (they were friends right?), but them in a relationship? Yeah. No. Not happening. No thankyou.

...yeah.

Jack mentally slapped hi.self and proceeded to shove his weird thoughts down yet again and refocus on getting his not-quite-friend to eat.

You were leaning back a lot farther than you were a second ago, if you did that anymore you'd probably just end up on the ground.

...jack sighed. This was going to take a while wasn't it?

By the end of the lunch period, you had come to a compromise, jack you slip the sandwich with you and take the other half for himself.

You ended up splitting your half with grim, who reluctantly took it. You had actually eaten yours too!...after you took the while thing apart and inspected and obsessed over it like how he'd seen Rook do to his housewardens that one time!

But still, it was something.

It was a start. And that's really all he could ask for at this point.

Sebek didn't notice anything about you at first. And he didn't particularly care much either. He was a guard for sevens sake! He had a deep responsibility!

He had a crown prince, that he oh so admired, to protect! Not to mention silver, who he had to wake up at every given turn, and not to mention Lilia, who had recently been going harder on their training sessions.

So to waste his time with a human? With a weak little human that didn't even come close to his current list if priorities?

That's time he simply did not have!

...So why was he here?

He was supposed to be looking for his charge. His charge, who always seemed to wind up around the old, abandoned Ramshakle building and just dissappear in the nick of time.

It had been happening more and more lately, especially since that new perfect moved in.

He would be lying if he said he cared too much about him. Again, he didn't have time to be curious about some strange human boy with some strange past.

But still, he couldn't quite contain the way he jumped back when he'd first seen them.

Whoever he was, he looked so...sick.

...he didn't have time for this.

Turning back on his heel, he refocused his mind on finding his lord again, and quickl- wait- silver. Oh great sevens. Silver wake up!

Ok. Sebek really didn't have time for this.

...and yet.

Here he was, standing next to you, arms out ready to catch you at a moments notice if you really were going to collapse like he thought you were.

He hadn't been this close to you before.

And now he could see that you weren't just sick.

Great seven, you looked like you were dying...

Sebek zigbolt had always known humans were weak, fragile creatures. Never able to even light a candle next to faeries. Never able to light a candle next to him, and certainly not his young master.

But this was just pushing it.

Sebek was stronger than his human counterparts. He would long outlive them. He thought of silver for the shortest second and then quickly pushed that thought to the side. This was not the time. Buteven with those facts, sebek still knew that humans weren't made of fine glass. Even if the people in his homeland liked to act like it, Sebek still knew that humanity wasn't completely hopeless.

One strong gust of wind wouldn't knock them over.

One missed meal wasn't enough to do detrimental damage to their health.

Pulling one all nighter would barely put a dent in their day to day lives, aside from the obvious fatigue and.

But with you?

With you? Alwats looking like you could kneel over and die then and there on the classroom floor?

...

Sebek want so sure anymore.

Epel had eaten more apples than any normal person should ever be able to eat.

Sevens help him, his stomach.

Despite the waves of pain that shit through him every now and then, epel wasn't mad.

Yeah, maybe eating a whole eight apples in the span of two hours wasn't his smartest idea, but the sweet nostalgia that seemed to wash over him and warm his very soul? Yeah no, it was worth it.

So no. Epel felmeir wasn't mad.

And laying in a bed that was much too soft for his taste, a direct contrast from the slightly itchy blankets and the hard mattresses back home, epel glance over to the almost empty crate of apples that were sitting just under his work desk.

...As much as Epel wanted to eat them, he wanted to do this even more.

Epel sat up, ignoring his stomach pain the best he could, and began a mental list of all the people he knew. And then a silent debate over who deserved his families apples in the first place.

Ok. First up Ace.

Epel would say they were friends. Not close friends by any means, but friends nonetheless.

Epel could give him one.

Next was Jack.

...In all honesty, epel didn't know. We're they friends, or just simply homework buddies that occasionally hung out?

...he could spare one for Jack, maybe they'd be friends then if they weren't already.

Duece.

Yes. Just- just yes. That day on the beach had changed their relationship forever. Duece was like a brother to him at this point.

He was goddamn getting an apple.

Epel chuckled a little at the realization that he was treating this like one of those elimination gameshows his meemaw liked.

Ok...he had two apples left after that.

Sebek wasn't really his friend was he? He certainly didn't make it seem like he was. If anything, Sebek was trying his damnedest to make them all belive the exact opposite, really.

....maybe he should just give the apple to Rook.

Or Vil.

Maybe.

Ok. He has one apple left.

The two of you weren't really friends. But you were friendly. If nothing else, you had been nothing but kind to him so far.

And plus, you looked uh. Half dead. To put it nicely.

And so, with a smile on his face, epel took out the crate of apples and began placing them on a bag that would make them easier to carry around tomorrow.

He couldn't wait.

It's funny how your whole life can change in a single moment, especially when you don't even know what that moment was.

Why were you here? Where is here anyway? Surely, magic didn't exist right?

The air wasn't always this clean right?

Water wasn't readily available at the turn of a handle right?

People didnt...people werent...weren't....

Heh. Heheha.

Why.

Why were you here?

Why you and not one of the kids? What the hell have you ever done but use up medical supplies in a fruitless effort to keep you alive.

Why was this world so...pretty. happy. Clean.

Why this world and not your own? What had this world ever done to deserve this luxury of life.

...What had yours?

What had you?

Out of all the base commanders, the medics, the farmers, or children, or any of the other apprentice kids that you sometimes had to work with.

You were here. And they were still trapped inside of that hell.

...You didn't deserve this.

You died. You were on that beach and you died.

You woke up in a coffin, but something told you this wasn't the afterlife.

That something being the blood that you coughed up the other day.

It wasn't from internal bleeding, you k ew that much. Rather, it was from you coughing so hard that something in your throat had ripped.

It really didn't matter. You had spent nearly half an hour in a panic, choking and trying to unclog your airways, while grim and the ghosts you had come to somewhat love, stood behind you, offering what little comfort they could.

It wasn't the first time this happened after all.

You were still bedridden for a good two days after that. Thank God for the weekend.

Time passed in a blur while you were like that. It always did, mostly because you were asleep ninety percent of the time. The other twn being dedicated to medicine and a vain attempt to get food you knew you couldn't stomach to stay down.

So no. This wasn't the afterlife.

It was just a beautiful second chance that you didn't deserve.

It was so confusing.

And this was so confusing.

What..is this weird red thing being handed to you?

Epel looked at you with a hopeful expression on his face. It reminded you of the little girl you used to look after...

You take the..thing.

Glancing over to your right, you watch Ace take a large bite out of it with a smile on his face.

Ok. So not poisonous. Good to know.

You saw Duece do the same thing.

You felt Jack staring at you, but you didn't dare look at him.

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dorianwolfforest · 9 months ago

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I really want to hear all your points regarding hating Sabine I’m super curious.

I don't really hate her as a character, I hate how she is written.

I could start off with the fact that she's an incredibly aggressive, "beastly" character who is also non-white, with native american features, which is a harmful stereotype against native americans (See: the violent savage stereotype, not only something apparent in media (Twilight, for example), but real, tangible racism and propaganda in the united states that is still rampant) and even if she's not native american, she's still an aggressive, beastly non-white character, but I don't know if I am the person to make those claims.

Moving on, she's just poorly managed by the company. She's an evil murderer, a person lacking empathy, someone who seeks to destroy Jorvik and all it holds dear because she is promised power... and she's upset that she doesn't get to play with the other kids on the playground. She doesn't like how the riding clubs are mean to each other. She releases balloons because people are having fun. She's either the darkest, most twisted person on the island or she gets her feefees hurt because other people are having fun without her.

The way they write her, she becomes an extreme hypocrite. The other riders are bad and mean for not letting her participate in the games? She imprisoned someone in a world that would slowly and horrifically kill them. Think exposing someone to severe radiation damage knowingly and with malintent. Yet Loretta is a meanie because she thinks Ginny's outfits suck.

The other part of it is the community response. She is sexualized only and merely for her body, with her audience completely ignoring her character, her traits, her personality and her arc, only really acknowledging her "dark" side if they can sexualize it. "but they did it to ydris too", you might claim, ignoring that ydris knowingly, consensually flirted with the main character and took on the persona of someone who enjoyed and wanted the attention. Sabine would hate sabine stans, and the stans ignore that and push her personality aside because she's hot. It's incredibly demeaning to boil her down only to her body and then act as though she is something she's not, namely a person capable of loving anything other than herself and her quest for power, something that is well established in the lore of her character.

The social media team, in response to the fan admiration, has played up Sabine's character and her appearances on their social media sites, and the fandom has gone so far as to influencing the writers into making her more easy to enjoy. The writers (there are no writers at SSE, but that's besides the point) have gone back on what Sabine is meant to be and represent so that the fans will engage with their story more, and the socmed team has pushed her to the forefront of their existence, making several tweets and tiktoks about her and how hot she is. I personally believe that this goes against what any self-appointed feminist company should be doing, and that SSE has a wonderful cast that deserves the spotlight far more. Jill Goldspur, for example, is a queen and she deserves recognition.

All in all, I don't hate Sabine, I hate everything that surrounds her and, as such, I wish she would simply disappear from the story so I don't have to fucking deal with it anymore.

#sso #ssoblr #thank you for the ask this was very cathartic #sabine stans arent wholly bad. sabine isnt wholly bad. the company isnt wholly bad. together they're a fucking nightmare #in fact sabine stans are the most fine of this bunch! it's the writers and socmed team that need to just Stop

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yuesya · 1 year ago

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Twin au anon again, it would be neat if cursed spirit au Shiki was attached to Satoru in an adjacent way to Rika and Yuta, maybe she grows with Satoru and protects him as much as she can, maybe she gives him an additional technique like the one she would have had, I'd love to hear more of your thoughts on this!

As far as the wider clan and the rest of the world is concerned, Gojo Satoru was born on December 7th. This was a truly joyous occasion for the Gojo Clan, the long-awaited birth of a child blessed with both the Six Eyes and Limitless-

Only a select few within the clan were aware that this event had been marred by the birth of a twin sister.

An ill omen, in the jujutsu world. Twins were seen as one singular entity. Neither would reach their full potential if this were not... corrected.

On December 7th, Gojo Satoru was born.

On December 14th, his younger twin was killed.

Muneyoshi was the one who'd committed the despicable deed with his own two hands. It was despicable, but necessary, in order to ensure the Gojo Clan's future. He'd held down the pillow over the infant girl's face and counted One two threefourfive-

...

By the time the infant had finally stopped struggling, Muneyoshi's hands had long grown numb.

... It had been the right thing to do. Muneyoshi had done the right thing. Hisayasu-sama had nodded solemnly when Muneyoshi reported back to him the next day, informing him of the cursed twin's death.

"Well done, Muneyoshi. Your family's sacrifice will be remembered."

There were no grave markers. No incense was burned, and no offerings were made. There could not be any tangible traces of any imperfections tainting the 'honored one.' As far as anyone was concerned, Satoru was Muneyoshi's only child.

Gojo Shiki did not exist. Could not exist.

("Muneyoshi, what did you do?! You monster, you wretched excuse of a husband, give me back my dAuGHTER-!")

...

It had been the right thing to do.

Gojo Satoru grows up brilliant and powerful. He is everything the Gojo Clan could ever have wanted in a clan heir, easily mastering his lessons with effortless grace. In retrospect, Muneyoshi should've become suspicious of this so much sooner, but it hadn't occurred to him at the time. He'd only taken it as a sign that he had done the right thing, severing the weights that would drag Satoru down.

What a fool he'd been.

In the end, Muneyoshi discovers it by complete accident. One night, he wakes up in the dark emptiness of his own room, feeling parched. On his way to fetch himself a glass of water, he notices a light coming from Satoru's room, which gives him pause.

Sleep is important, particularly for growing children. As much as it warms his heart to see his son working so hard to meet the expectations of his clan, it wouldn't do for-

"Yadda yadda ya, who cares about who killed whoever in the Muromachi Period?"

The man pauses his footsteps, frowning in confusion.

That was... Satoru's voice, there was no doubt about it. But why was he talking aloud to himself in the middle of the night, instead of sleeping? That was-

"I guess you have a point, but whatever." A frustrated, explosive breath. "Ha? 'Just go to sleep, if you're not interested in reading?' Hey, why do you think I'm staying up late in the first place? You're always asleep during the day!"

What?

A chill runs down Muneyoshi's spine. He can't sense anyone else in Satoru's room; the boy is sitting alone at his table. Then, who is he... talking to?

"Don't apologize, I know you're a little sleepyhead." Satoru's voice is affectionate, in a manner that's entirely uncharacteristic of him. "I guess it's a good thing that at least one of us is interested in this rubbish, so we can at least get lessons over with quickly. Counting on you for the next test, Shiki!"

Muneyoshi, only a half-step from opening the door to his son's room and demanding answers, freezes entirely.

That name. The name that's never been spoken aloud in this house, or in the Gojo Clan, the name that Satoru should not know-

Oh gods.

Oh dear gods, please don't let this be true. Please let this all just be a fevered nightmare. The implications otherwise...

(Is this the retribution for the sin of murdering his own daughter?)

Horror seizes Muneyoshi's throat in a tight grip at the thought, heavy and suffocating. His hand as it rests on the thin doorframe separating him from his children trembles viciously with dread terror.

... He doesn't have the courage to open it.

#QA #zenith of stars au #twins au #Writing

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nellyellie · 2 months ago

Text

Regarding Jinx

(Aka a copypasta of Regarding Twilight Sparkle in honor of S2)

Dear Elon Musk,

This may the be the strangest message you'll ever receive, but I do hope you'll take the time to read it & consider what I have to say. To put it simply, I would really appreciate it if the next time your birthday comes around you would request that your smut artist friends (who like to give you sexually oriented fanart as gifts) draw somebody other than Jinx for you.

The reason I ask this is that Jinx is my fiance, & we're planning on getting married next June or July should everything go as planned financially speaking. And yes, I have actually found a wedding chapel that will let me marry someone that most people would consider a fictional character. Now before you go thinking "This guy is either completely crazy or just screwing with me.", please hear me out on this.

You see, I'm totally head over heels in love with Jinx from LoL. I have been for about 11 months now & at this point I'm in a committed relationship with my Jinxie. By that I mean I don't date anyone else, I don't sleep with anyone else, & I have zero interest in having any kind of relationship with anyone other than the woman I adore. I love her with all my heart & I'm 100% committed to that love.

To express my love in a real tangible way, I have a beautiful life size custom Jinx sexdoll that I can hug, kiss, cuddle up in bed to go to sleep with at night, & take out on the town to do all the fun things together that normal couples do. I take her out to blow things up, we go to shooting ranges together, I take her out for coffee, & we do social activities together like hanging out with friends, seeing movies, etc.

And I talk about her as if she is Jinx because to me she very much is. When I look at her I see Jinx. When I talk with her I'm talking to Jinx. When I hold her in my arms & kiss her there are no doubts in my mind that it's the woman I love whose lips are pressed against mine. And every morning when I open my eyes & see her head on the pillow next to mine, with her gorgeous magenta eyes staring back at me, I can't help but wonder how I ever got to be so lucky as to have a partner as smart, funny, beautiful, & all around wonderful as her.

All my friends & the people who know me well say that my love is a thing of beauty & quite admirable, but from the outside perspective of someone who doesn't know me you're probably going "Wow. That's pretty damn crazy." & wondering why I don't just go get a real girifriend. The truth is, I've had plenty of real relationships & sexual partners in the 60 years I've been around. A few short relationships & one failed marriage. So my love for Jinx isn't out of a lack of real world intimacy or relationships, I just fell in love with her & my heart didn't give me much of a choice in the matter.

But you know what? I'm totally happy with my love & my relationship. It may seem weird to you, but it fills me with joy every single day of my life & I've never been happier. So what if it's weird? If it makes me happy & it doesn't hurt anyone, then where's the problem? I don't think there is one, & anyone who knows me well will tell you the same.

Now, you’re probably wondering why I'm telling you all this & how it concerns you. To you, I'm sure Jinx is just a cartoon character you think is really hot, so I imagine you wouldn't think anything of having your friends draw sexually explicit art of her as birthday gifts for you. And hey, I think she's really attractive too, so I get where you're coming from there. I often go on e621.net & Rule34. Paheal to see what new erotic art people have drawn of her.

But to me she's more than a cartoon character who's sexually attractive: she's my fiance who I love with all my heart & soon to be my wife. So it's been bothering me lately every time I go on those sites & see a dozen or so pieces of art people have drawn depicting my lady in various sexual situations with the same person over & over, & that person happens to be you.

Don't get me wrong here though: this isn't a jealousy thing. I'm very secure in my relationship. I know without question that Jinx is just as faithful to me as I am to her; she's actually sitting on the couch next to me tinkering with her bombs while I type this. She's very real to me, & I know she's not sneaking out in the middle of the night to go have kinky sex with some famous artist. And I do respect your talent as an artist & an artist's creative freedom to draw whatever they want, that's cool.

What bothers me is that in all these birthday images you've been getting, Jinx is always depicted as if she was your sexual plaything, drawn wearing a collar with your name on it or with a speech bubble saying something that would somehow suggest she was your property. And I know quite well that Jinx is not your plaything nor your property, she's my fiance. So that bugs me a bit.

What I find really loathsome, though, is your pension for degrading my partner in both your art & the fanart you've been receiving lately. Jinxie is a sensitive (albeit kinky) mass murderer with serious insecurities, & she definitely does not deserve to be portrayed as some kind of sexual slave who likes getting screamed at, being hit, etc. She's not into that kinda stuff & the fact that there's someone out there in the world such as yourself who would desire to treat Jinx that way, & have his friends support & validate his desires to demean & mistreat my partner by drawing pictures of him doing so, really does bother me. I don't take any issue with people having kinky sex as long as both parties consent to it and enjoy it, but I know quite well that my Jinxie greatly prefers being praised rather than degraded.

So next year, when your birthday comes around, keep in mind that Jinx isn't just a lifeless cartoon character to objectified for your sexual gratification. She's the partner of someone who loves her very much, & by that time their wife. So both myself & Jinxie would greatly appreciate it if you'd pick someone else to request erotic art of for your birthday. Based on the very large amount of different LoL women you draw art of, I imagine there has to be many other criminals you find sexually attractive.

I assume you'll probably just dismiss this message as the ramblings of a crazy person & likely ignore it, but if by some chance you do take what I've had to say to heart, well... we'd appreciate it.

Regards,

Jeff Bezos

#shitpost #arcane #jinx arcane #copypasta #sex jokes #jeff bezos #elon musk #jinx x reader #<- technically

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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 11 months ago

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(I’m popping a extra disclaimer here because I don’t know if I worded this very well, and I understand if this isnt the kind if question you feel comfortable answering, but this is a genuine question made in good faith. I also apologise if this sounds really stupid)

I read one of your recent asks about inclusivism and it reminded me of something that always sat in the back of my mind with this train of thought.

If we say that everyone regardless of religion, or absence of it, gets into heaven, doesn’t that seem disrespectful to their faith. By saying that people of other religions get into christian heaven, is that not inadvertently telling them that their religion or their gods are fake, and that when they die it’ll be okay because they’ll learn the real truth? I hope this doesn’t come across as blunt or disrespectful to anyone, I’ve just never be able to come to a conclusion that isn’t exclusive (which is kind of a depressing thought), but is also respectful. Because it’s a beautiful idea that god loves us all regardless of who we are or what we believe, but what about people who have the kind of faith we do in a completely different god, or multiple gods, do they have the same thoughts about us? that their god loves us even though we dont believe?

I feel like I’m asking questions I’m not supposed to but I’m just really curious about your perspective if this is something you’re comfortable answering.

Hey anon, this is an important question, so thanks for asking it! You don't sound "stupid"; you're thinking like a theologian :) I'm probably not going to do it justice, I'm afraid, but maybe folks will hop on with more ideas or resources?

This got really long, so the TL;DR: I agree with you, and so do a lot of theologians and other thinkers!

In a religiously diverse world, it makes sense that people of various religions ponder where people outside their religions "fit" in their understanding of both the present world and whatever form of afterlife they have.

If someone has a firm personal belief in certain things taking place after death (from heaven to reincarnation), I don't think it's inherently wrong to imagine all kinds of people joining them in that experience, when it points to how that person recognizes the inherent holiness and value of all kinds of people, and shows that they long for continued community with & flourishing for those people.

However, this contemplation should be done with great care — especially when your religion is the dominant one in your culture; especially if your religion has a long history (and/or present) of colonialism and coerced conversions.

Ultimately, humility and openness are key! It's fine to have your own beliefs about humanity's place in this life and after death, but make yourself mindful of your own limited perspective. Accept you might be wrong in part or in whole! And be open to learning from others' ideas, and truly listening to them if they say something in your ideas has caused them or their community tangible harm.

In the rest of this post, I'll focus on a Christian perspective and keep grappling with how to consider these questions while honoring both one's personal faith and people all religions...without coming to any solid conclusions (sorry, but I don't think there's any one-size-fits-all or fully satisfying answer!).

I'll talk a bit about inclusivism and how it fails pretty miserably in this regard, and point towards religious pluralism as a possibly better (tho still imperfect) option.

And as usual I'll say I highly recommend Barbara Brown Taylor's book Holy Envy: Finding God in the Faith of Others to any Christians / cultural Christians who want to learn more about entering into mutual relationship with people of other religions.

In previous posts, I brought up the concepts of exclusivism, inclusivism, and religious pluralism without digging into their academic definitions and histories — partially because it's A Lot for a tumblr post, but also because it's by no means in my sphere of expertise. I worried about misrepresenting any viewpoint if I tried to get all academic, so I just stuck to my own personal opinions instead — but looking back at some posts, I see I didn't do a great job of clarifying that's what I was doing!

So now I'll go into what scholars mean when talking about these different viewpoints, with a huge caveat that I'm not an expert; I'm just drawing from notes and foggy memories from old seminary classes + this article from the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy (IEP), and anyone interested in learning more should find scholarly articles or books rather than relying on some guy on tumblr!

Defining exclusivism, inclusivism, & religious pluralism

When we encounter traditions that offer differing and often conflicting "accounts of the nature of both mundane and supramundane reality, of the ultimate ends of human beings, and of the ways to achieve those ends" (IEP), how do we respond? Do we focus on difference and reject any truth in their views that conflicts with our views? Do we avoid looking too closely at the places we differ? try to find common ground? try to make their views fit ours?

Exclusivism, inclusivism, and religious pluralism are three categories into which we can place various responses to the reality of religious diversity.

It's important to note that this is only one categorization system one can use, and that these categories were developed within a Western, Christian context (by a guy named Alan Race in 1983). They are meant to be usable by persons of any religion — all sorts of people ask these questions about how their beliefs relate to others' beliefs — but largely do skew towards a Western, Christian way of understanding religion. (For one thing, there's a strong focus on salvation / afterlife and not all religions emphasize that stuff very much, if at all!)

Drawing primarily from this article on the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy (IEP), here are basic definitions of each:

Exclusivist positions maintain that "only one set of belief claims or practices can ultimately be true or correct (in most cases, those of the one holding the position). A Christian exclusivist would therefore hold that the beliefs of non-Christians (and perhaps even Christians of other denominations) are in some way flawed, if not wholly false..." . (From my old class notes — Exclusivist Christians believe 3 things are non-negotiable: the unique authority of Jesus Christ as the apex of revelation; Jesus as normative; salvation exclusively through repentance and faith in Christ's work on the cross. Some will allow that God does provide some truths about Godself and humanity through general revelation, including truths found in other religious traditions, but the Biggest most Important revelation is still Jesus.) .

Inclusivist positions "recognize the possibility that more than one religious tradition can contain elements that are true or efficacious, while at the same time hold that only one tradition expresses ultimate religious truth most completely." . Christian inclusivists tend to focus on salvation, claiming that non-Christians can still achieve salvation — still through Jesus Christ. Sometimes they hold that any non-Christian whose life happens to fit Jesus's call to love God and neighbor, etc., will be saved. Other times they hold that only non-Christians who never had the chance to learn about Jesus can be saved; if you know about Christianity and reject it, it doesn't matter how "good"you are, you're doomed. .

Pluralist positions hold that "more than one set of beliefs or practices can be, at least partially and perhaps wholly, true or correct simultaneously." For Christian pluralists, that means believing that Jesus is not the one Way to God / to heaven/salvation; Christianity is one way of many, usually conceived of as all being on equal footing, to connect to the Divine. .

(These three categories are not all encompassing; the IEP article also brings up relativism and skepticism.)

Issues with Exclusivism & Inclusivism

I hope the issues with exclusivism are clear, but to name a few:

Christians who are taught that all non-Christians (or even the "wrong kind" of Christians) are doomed to hell are taught to see those people as Projects more than people — there's a perceived urgent need to convert them asap in order to "save them." The only kind of relationship you'd form with one of them is centered in efforts to convert them, rather than to live and learn alongside them as they are.

Doesn't matter if they are already happily committed to a different religion. In your eyes, they're wrong about feeling fulfilled and connected to the Divine.

Doesn't matter if you have to resort to violent and coercive practices like wiping out all signs of non-Christian culture or kidnapping non-Christian children to raise Christian — the ends justify the means because you're looking out for their "immortal souls."

...But what about inclusivism? If you're a Christian inclusivist, you aren't forcing anyone to convert to Christianity right now! You acknowledge that non-Christians can live holy and fulfilling lives! You even acknowledge that there's scraps of value in their valid-but-not-as-valid-as-Christianity religions! So what's the problem?

Turns out that this is a major case of one's good intentions not being nearly as important as one's impact.

You may be pushing back against exclusivism's outright refusal that non-Christians have any connection to the divine at all, which is nice and all — but by saying that non-Christians will basically become Christian after they die, you are still perpetuating our long history of coercive conversions.

There's a reason some scholars argue that inclusivism isn't actually a separate category from, but a sub-category of, exclusivism: you're still saying everyone has to be Christian, "so luckily you'll See The Light and become Christian after you die :)"

This is very reasonably offensive to many non-Christians. If nothing else, it's ludicrously smug and paternalistic! I won't get into it here but it only gets worse when some inclusivist positions try to get all Darwinian and start arranging religions from lower to higher, with Christianity as the "evolutionary" apex of religion ://

For now, I'll only go into detail about Catholic Jesuit theologian Karl Rahner's particular version of inclusivism, because it's quite common and really highlights the paternalism:

Rahner's Anonymous Christians:

A question that Catholics and other Christians struggled with in the 20th century was this: If non-Christians cannot be saved (because they held firm in believing that salvation must be in and through Christ), what happens if someone never even had the chance to learn about Christianity? Surely a loving God wouldn't write them an automatic ticket to hell when they're non-Christian through no fault of their own, right?

German Jesuit Karl Rahner's response was to conceive of a sort of abstract version of Christianity for non-Christians who lived good, faithful lives outside of official (what he called "constituted") Christianity:

"Anonymous Christianity means that a person lives in the grace of God and attains salvation outside of explicitly constituted Christianity. ...Let us say, a Buddhist monk…who, because he follows his conscience, attains salvation and lives in the grace of God; of him I must say that he is an anonymous Christian; if not, I would have to presuppose that there is a genuine path to salvation that really attains that goal, but that simply has nothing to do with Jesus Christ. But I cannot do that. And so, if I hold if everyone depends upon Jesus Christ for salvation, and if at the same time I hold that many live in the world who have not expressly recognized Jesus Christ, then there remains in my opinion nothing else but to take up this postulate of an anonymous Christianity." - Karl Rahner in Dialogue (1986), p. 135.

So someone who has intentionally devoted themselves to another religion, someone who does good work in that religion's name, is...secretly, unbeknownst to them, actually Christian?

I hope the offensiveness of that is clear — the condescension in implying these people are ignorant of what religion they "really" belong to! the assumption that Good deeds & virtues are always inherently Christian deeds & virtues! the arrogance of being so sure your own religion is The One Right Way that you have to construct a "back door" (as Hans Küng describes it) into it to shove in all these poor people who for whatever reason can't or don't choose to join it!

One theologian who criticized the paternalism of "anonymous Christianity" is John Hick, who was one of the big advocates for religious pluralism as a more respectful way of understanding non-Christian religions. So let's finally talk some more about pluralism!

Religious Pluralism!

As defined earlier, religious pluralist positions hold that there are many paths to the divine, and that all religions have access to some truths about the divine.

For Christians, this means rejecting those 3 non-negotiables of exclusionists about Christianity being the one true religion and Jesus being the one path to salvation. Instead of claiming that Christianity is the "most advanced" religion, pluralism claims that Christianity is just one religion among many, with no unique claim on the truth.

Some other pluralist points:

Pluralism resists antisemitic claims that Christianity is the "fulfillment" of (or that it "supercedes") Judaism.

Various religions provide independent access to salvation rather than everyone's salvation relying on Christ. (Note the still very Christian-skewed lens here in emphasizing salvation at all though!)

When we notice how different religions' truth claims conflict with one another, pluralists reconcile this by talking about how one's experience of truth is subjective.

Pluralism tends to give more authority to human experience than sacred texts

John Hicks' pluralist position

I mentioned before that Hicks is one of the big names in the religious pluralism scene. The IEP article I drew from earlier goes into much greater detail about his views and responses to it in the section titled "c. John Hick: the Pluralistic Hypothesis," but for a brief overview:

His central claim is that "diverse religious traditions have emerged as various finite, historical responses to a single transcendent, ultimate, divine reality. The diversity of traditions (and the belief claims they contain) is a product of the diversity of religious experiences among individuals and groups throughout history, and the various interpretations given to these experiences."

"As for the content of particular belief claims, Hick understands the personal deities of those traditions that posit them...as personae of the Real, explicitly invoking the connotation of a theatrical mask in the Latin word persona."

"Hick claims that all religious understandings of the Real are on equal footing insofar as they can only offer limited, phenomenal representations of transcendent truth."

We must accept that world religions are fundamentally different from each other, rather than falling into platitudes about how "we're all the same deep down"

Each religion has its own particular and comprehensive framework for understanding the world and human experience (i.e. we shouldn't use the normative Christian framework to describe other faiths)

Another angle: hospitality

As various philosophers and theologians have responded to and expanded upon pluralist frameworks, one big concept that some emphasize is hospitality: that all of us regardless of religion have an obligation to welcome others to all that is ours, if and when they have need of it — especially when they are of different cultures or religions from us.

Hospitality requires respect for those under our care, honoring and protecting their differences.

When we are the ones in need of hospitality, we should be able to expect the same.

Hospitality implies being able to anticipate our guest's needs, but we need to accept the impossibility of being able to guess every need, so communication is key!

Liberation theology & Pluralism

I also appreciate what liberation theologians have brought into the discussion. Here's from the IEP article:

"Liberation theology, which advocates a religious duty to aid those who are poor or suffering other forms of inequality and oppression, has had a significant influence on recent discussions of pluralism. The struggle against oppression can be seen as providing an enterprise in which members of diverse religious traditions can come together in solidarity.

"Paul F. Knitter, whose work serves as a prominent theological synthesis of liberation and pluralist perspectives, argues that engaging in interreligious dialogue is part and parcel of the ethical responsibility at the heart of liberation theology. He maintains not only that any liberation theology ought to be pluralistic, but also that any adequate theory of religious pluralism ought to include an ethical dimension oriented toward the goal of resisting injustice and oppression.

"Knitter claims that, if members of diverse religions are interested (as they should be) in encountering each other in dialogue and resolving their conflicts, this can only be done on the basis of some common ground. ..."

Knitter sees suffering as that common ground: "Suffering provides a common cause with which diverse religious traditions are concerned and towards which they can come together to craft a common agenda. Particular instances of suffering will, of course, differ from each other in their causes and effects; likewise, the practical details of work to alleviate suffering will almost necessarily be fleshed out differently by different religions, at different times and in different places. Nevertheless, Knitter maintains that suffering itself is a cross-cultural and universal phenomenon and should thus serve as the reference point for a practical religious pluralism. Confronting suffering will naturally give rise to solidarity, and pluralist respect and understanding can emerge from there."

Knitter also sees the planet as a source of literal common ground for us all: "Earth not only serves as a common physical location for all religious traditions, but it also provides these traditions with what Knitter calls a 'common cosmological story' (1995, p. 119). ...Knitter makes a case that different religious traditions share an ecological responsibility and that awareness of this shared responsibility, as it continues to emerge, can also serve as a basis for mutual understanding."

When Knitter and other liberation theologians speak of suffering or earth care as rallying points for interreligious solidarity, it's important to point out that such solidarity doesn't happen automatically: it is something we have to choose to commit to. We have to be courageous about challenging those who would pin suffering on another religious or cultural group. We have to be courageous about having difficult conversations, again and again. We have to learn how to work together for common goals even while accepting where we differ.

How to end this long ass post?

My hope is that as you read (or skimmed) all this, you were thinking about your own personal beliefs: where, if anywhere, do they fit among all these ideas? where would you like them to fit?

And, in the end, did I really address anon's question about whether it's disrespectful to people of other religions to assert that everyone is loved by God, or gets into heaven? Not really, because I don't know. I think it probably depends on context, and how one puts it, and how certain one acts about their ideas about God and heaven.

For me, it always comes down to humility about my own limited perspective, even while asserting that we all have a right to our personal beliefs, including ideas about what comes after this life.

When I imagine all human beings together in whatever comes next, I hope I do so not out of a desire for assimilation into my religion, but a desire to continue to learn from and alongside all kinds of people and beliefs. I hope I remain open to learning about how other people envision both what comes after death, and more importantly, what they think about life here and now. What can I learn from them about truth, kindness, justice? How can we work together to achieve those things for all creation, despite and in and through our differences?

I'll end with Eboo Patel's description of religious pluralism, which sums up much of how I feel, from his memoir Acts of Faith: The Story of an American Muslim:

"Religious pluralism is neither mere coexistence nor forced consensus. It is a form of proactive cooperation that affirms the identities of the constituent communities while emphasizing that the wellbeing of each and all depends on the health of the whole. It is the belief that the common good is best served when each community has a chance to make its unique contribution."

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Further resources:

Explore my #religious pluralism tag for more thoughts and quotes

You might also enjoy wandering through my #interfaith tag

Two podcast episodes that draw from Eboo Patel, Barbara Brown Taylor, and other wonderful people: "No One Owns God: Readying yourself for respectful interfaith encounters" and "It's good to have wings, but you have to have roots too: Cultivating your own faith while embracing religious pluralism"

My tag with excerpts from Holy Envy

Post that includes links to various questions about heaven

Here’s a post where I talk about why I don’t believe in hell

My evangelism tag (tl;dr: I’m staunchly against prosletyzing to anyone who doesn’t explicitly request more info about Christianity)

#feel free only to read the tldr anon -- the rest goes way beyond your actual question!#exclusivism #inclusivism #religious pluralism #long post #essays #theology #other faiths tag

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