#im religious and the amount of people who are using the Bible to hate people for sexuality and gender identity is disgusting

[cobbleztone]

[smoochkooks]

—the (un)holy cock-up (m.)

⟶ pairing: park jimin/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst 

⟶ word count: 14.5k

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, profanity, unnecessary amount of biblical puns, some critic on catholic church, this is a heavy read be aware

⟶ summary: there is a quite long list of circumstances, with student loan and rent on the very top of it, that led you to work in the sunday’s spirit editorial department, a newspaper overally known among fellow catholic community of busan, with park jimin as your boss.

when your small cock-up goes unnoticeably out of your hand, you find yourself in a situation painted in all shades of wrong.

or, alternatively: when it’s forbidden, it tastes bittersweet.

a/n: please, before you read this: take the warnings seriously. this is not a light read, it touches some heavy and quite controversial topics. tit also involves a scene where a person in charge exhibits inappropriate behavior towards their subordinate which I do not condone, however it’s all done with consent.

ps. im really proud of this work so give me some love please:(

Fingertips typing furiously on the keyboards, sights focused on the computers’ screens, brows furrowed, minds utterly concentrated and all of this accompanied by angelic voices of various religious songs playing in the background.

This is how a typical day at Sunday’s Spirit editorial department goes by.

The newspaper is a local source of information for the catholic community not only in the city of Busan, but in the whole country. Its history starts in 70s, when Park Min-Sung with his wife started publishing the very first version of the Sunday’s Spirit, selling copies in front of churches. Young activists definitely hadn’t anticipated such a big success, especially due to hard times of the military dictatorship in Korea, but two decades later they have become one of the most affluent families in Busan. The newspaper remains the Park’s legacy till these days, being owned by Min-Sung’s son, with the original founder’s grandson Jimin as an editor-in-chief.

Sometimes you ponder how did you end up in this kind of situation. Sitting at your desk with eyes glued to the screen, working for the catholic newspaper with Mary did you know and other holy songs playing from the Spotify’s Blessed Hits playlist.

First of all, you aren’t quite a Jesus stan yourself. Not a regular churchgoer, Bible reader or a person who lives according to God’s will with Ten Commandments written on your heart and soul.

Someone may wonder, what a young, aspiring journalist like you is doing here? Yes, that’s right.

Money is the reason.

The perspectives of wealthy life as a presenter in the national television or a host in the radio were just a mirage, because after receiving your master degree in journalism you realised that, unfortunately, a bright future was bright only in your unreal dreams.

The case was simple. You needed money. Your bank account was literally screaming at you to get your shit together and figure something out before you end up under the bridge. So you started searching for a job, looking over various offers on the Internet for two weeks straight. A waitress? Nah, too clumsy for that. Jewelry seller? Definitely not, since you are a happy owner of a few pairs of earrings from etsy-like online shop that certainly have nothing to do with real gold. You were almost convinced you’re destined to be a sexworker but then you stumbled upon an offer from the Sunday’s Spirit.

It was your chance. A God himself decided to take pity on you.

In that exact moment the genre of the newspaper wasn’t important. The vision of bankruptcy was enough for you to wear knee-length black skirt, white button-up shirt and a pair of high heels you’ve never worn before and go on a job interview with plastered smile on your face, looking delightful like you have just given birth to Jesus Christ in Bethlehem.

All the Hollywood actresses could be put into shame after your Oscar-winning performance you acted out on the interview in front of middle-aged woman in checked jacket that no one wears since 90s. Your enthusiasm and assurance you live good, catholic woman’s life, along with your master degree and motivational letter (you added a quote from The Letter to Philipians at the end of it to spice it up) was enough to be accepted for the position of Ask and you shall find column creator.

The job itself wasn’t complex or tough. The newspaper on its online site has a page where people can create an account and send asks to the author of the column who responds to them. You did something wrong and you aren’t sure it should be considered a sin? Having problems with regular praying on mornings and evenings? Write to us and we will solemnly help you with the God’s blessing, it says.

This is basically how it works. Each week, the said journalist chooses the most interesting questions and answers to make an article to the Sunday’s Spirit’s next publication. Of course, you can’t answer those questions the way you would like. You must do it according to the catholic laws and God’s plan (the True God’s plan, not Drake’s). A woman who interviewed you even gave you a notebook full of already made-up responses and a list of things you definetely mustn’t write if you still want to be employed.

To be completely frank, you don’t hate your job that much. You actually feel kind of nice, helping other people with their problems. You’ve been doing this for six months now and during this period of time you got used to some things.

A ‘Jesus, I trust you’ framed picture you swore your mother gave you on your 16th birthday standing on your desk. Holy beats blasting through the speakers until you leave the office at 5pm. A big-ass cross hanging right in front of the entrance to the editorial. Lee Chin-sun, the Weekly News column author, rushing to Park Jimin’s bureau every day at different hours in her pencil skirts and high heels knocking on the floor.

There’s only the Pentecost in the middle of the office that could actually surprise you.

“Looks like our Mary Magdalene is going to Jesus cave again,” mutters Kim Taehyung, the newspaper’s main photographer, friend from your desk and, actually, the only friend you have here. Very much gay and just like you, in desperate need for money. “It’s her third visit today. I wonder what it is this time. New prayer to Pope Francis she found?” he whispers and you chuckle at that quietly, looking around if anyone pays attention to your conversation, but everyone seems busy doing their own stuff. “Maybe she’s sucking his dick right now and we all think they are playing Who said it? Bible edition,” he adds in a hushed tone.

You start thinking about it for a while. Is that really possible for someone like Park Jimin, the editor-in-chief of the Sunday’s Spirit to have a sexual relationship with his coworker? The man who has a smaller version of Piet�� in his office?

“I mean look at him. I would smash that ass too.”

You roll your eyes at Taehyung words, going back to your previous task but every time you try to concentrate, the face of your boss appears in front of your eyes uncontrollably.

Truth to be told, Park Jimin was a sight.

Blond hair, always perfectly styled and simply parted in the middle, revealing his forehead. Dark, sharp eyes that seem to pierce right through your soul and full, plump lips which could only be described as kissable.

He wears only high fashion brands, wandering through the office in Prada and Tom Ford suits that hugs his sculpted body just right. You think that as for a person who never misses Sunday’s mass, Park Jimin has also nice thighs. And a fine piece of ass, as Taehyung would describe it.

Newest Rolex that costs probably more than you will ever earn in your entire life on his wrist, Mercedes who just got brought out to the international market standing on his parking spot in front of the building, an apartment in the most luxurious area in Busan.

Park Jimin inhales God’s mercy and exhales money.

You spoke to him more explicitly only once, on your first day at work. He greeted you and wished good luck, saying that everything will be fine because you know, God’s good. Since that day, Park Jimin seems out of your reach. You contact him only through email, sending articles for him to check and approve, occasionally receiving some short message from him to improve this and that. He rarely leaves his office during working hours but when he does, it’s either for business meetings outside the editorial or for a lunch at nearby restaurant.

There’s also one, special occasion, every Friday, that’s a sacred time for all the employees. The clock hits 12am and so it begins. The angelic voices stop singing and everybody shifts on their sits.

“Oh, Holy Judas. I almost forgot about my favourite part of the week,” Taehyung sighs, standing up from his desk. And by that, he means-

“Friday’s Bible contemplation lunch break, everyone please gather up at the cafeteria.” Park Jimin’s sweet as honey voice says through the speakers.

You stand up from your chair with reluctance. Taking food with you, you go to the cafeteria, following Taehyung.

That’s actually the next thing you got used to while working at Sunday’s Spirit. Bible contemplation meetings are, as you found out from Taehyung, Jimin’s idea after he became an editor-in-chief almost one year ago. Every Friday all the workers sit together, eat their lunches and listen to Jimin as he reads a certain chapter from the book with true admiration written on their faces. After that, he usually asks some questions holding a discussion among the participants who, unlike you, happily takes part in.

The cafeteria looks rather normal, like any other lunchrooms you see in offices. Painted in bright yellow colors, with a few tables and a typical kitchen set in the back. Except for one thing.

A replica of Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper hanging on the wall.

You decided a long time ago that you don’t want to know how much money it cost Jimin to have something like that here.

The newspaper’s workers, almost like the twelve Apostles, sit together by the tables. Lee Chin-sun at the very front, looking completely mesmerized by today’s Park Jimin’s appearance. He’s wearing navy blue suit that Taehyung swears it’s from Hugo Boss. The place next to Chin-sun is always occupied by tall, black-haired guy named Choi Eunwoo, main graphic designer, hopelessly in love with her since his first days at work. Behind them there’s a group from emendation department, with their leader Min Yoongi and other journalists. You always sit with Taehyung at the back, near the kitchen, not necessarily paying attention to what’s happening in the front.

Jimin, as on every Friday, walks to the small podium, designed to look like a pulpit in the church and opens the Bible. But one thing is odd: Jimin ain’t no priest or altar boy himself and he certainly dosen’t look like one, flipping through the pages of what you think it’s New Testament this time.

From your point of view, you could practically see how Chin-sun sighs with content expression on her face, lacing her fingers together on the lap and straightening her back. Eunwoo, on the other hand, shifts uncomfortably on his seat, sending Chin-sun quick glances full of unspoken longing she never acknowledges, to his dismay.

Then, Park Jimin clears his throat and the whole cafeteria goes quiet.

Truth to be told, you never really listen to what he’s reading. This time is no different. You just chew on your avocado sandwich, occasionally taking a sip of coffee. Your boss’ smooth voice reaches your ears faintly but you don’t pay attention to it, focusing on eating and Taehyung’s hushed rumbling instead.

“Look at our Mary Magdalene, she looks like she might burst a nut just by listening to CEO Jesus,” he says, making you peek at the girl.

Mary Magdalene is a nickname that Taehyung made up for Chin-sun when he started working at Sunday’s Spirit, mainly because of her attitude and relationship with Jimin. It’s rather platonic, at least for now. She looks at him with pure admiration on her face and she literally melts everytime he smiles at her. But Chin-sun’s ‘stalking’ isn’t unreasonable. Her father is a well-known philanthropist in Busan. He donates catholic charities, churches and, what’s the most interesting – he has some connections with Jimin’s father, the owner of Sunday’s Spirit.

And here’s the thing: Chin-sun’s hare and hounds definitely have some hidden reason. Maybe the whole marriage thing that has become a gossip in the office is true. Which makes poor Eunwoo’s situation even worse.

“Sometimes I wonder why has he fallen in love with her in first place,” you whisper, pointing at the graphic designer. “He knows he stands no chance against Jimin.”

“What can I say, you can’t help who you fall in love with.” Taehyung muses almost poetically, shrugging his shoulders.

You hum at that, placing your coffee cup on the table and looking around the cafeteria. It seems like Jimin has ended his reading session for today and now he invites everyone to join the discussion about the topic. He flashes Chin-sun a gentle smile and you could swear the girl is biting her lip.

On the corner of your eye you see Taehyung smirking.

“What?” you ask.

Taehyung takes a sip of his coffee lazily (it’s always caramel macchiato), peering at Jimin. “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if our boss really wants to settle not only with Chin-sun, but anyone in general,” he says languidly.

You furrow your brows. “What makes you think that? I mean, look at him. He probably waits with sex till marriage.” you snort.

Taehyung chuckles at your words. “Ah, sweetheart, you really know nothing about Park Jimin.”

“What do you mean?”

He moves closer to you, leaning towards your ear. “What I mean,” he whispers, “is that Park Jimin isn’t such a prude everyone thinks he is. At least he didn’t use to be.”

You raise your eyebrows at him with disbelief. “What? He’s secretly gay?” you mock.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I wish, but no, he isn’t,” he answers with a sigh. “Do you know Min Yoongi from emendation team?” he then asks, pointing at grey-haired man with feline eyes sitting behind Chin-sun.

You nodd your head. Min Yoongi is a hard to read guy. Always suspiciously silent, practically never leaves his office. Something makes you wonder how did Taehyung end up befriending him enough to casually gossip about the boss. You will ask him about this on another occasion.

“So here’s the thing,” Taehyung begins, lowering the volume of his voice. “He used to study at the same university in Seoul with Jimin. They even had been together in the fraternity. Yoongi-hyung told me some juicy details about our boss’ life back then.”

You frown at his words. “And you are telling me this now?!” you hiss.

“I found out literally two days ago!” Taehyung exclaims, maybe a little too loud, so you quickly place your index finger on your lips, shushing him.

“Fine. Continue.” you whisper, looking around to see if anyone pays attention to you.

“Well, Park Jimin used to be a trouble back then. A golden boy of his family in Busan, but a campus fuckboy and obnoxious heartbreaker in Seoul. He smoked cigarettes, drank enormous amounts of alcohol, got wasted on every weekend, missed classes and changed hair colors as often as his girlfriends. By the way, don’t you think he would slay pink hair?”

“Taehyung can you please–”

“Okay, okay. Enough thirsting over Jimesus. So, as you can see, there was no place for Sunday’s mass and Bible contemplation meetings in his life. And here’s the awaited plotwist. His parents somehow found out his son wasn’t living good catholic life on his studies and got extremely pissed off. They simply gave him an ultimatum: if he doesn’t stop his shenanigans, they will cut him off their money and they won’t make him Sunday’s Spirit heir.” Taehyung stops his rumbling for a while, letting you proceed all the bewildering informations about your dear boss he has just revealed.

Your eyes simply widen at the revelations.

Park Jimin, the man who organises Bible contemplation lunch breaks, a regular churchgoer, someone who you always thought has a cross tattooed on his back, was a playboy who slept with a half of the female community in the university?

Interesting.

“Rest of the story is simple. He changed his behavior, got a master degree in journalism and came back to Busan to work here. What is funny, his first position was the same as yours now,” Taehyung ends his story with a light chuckle. “Now you understand why it’s hard for me to believe he really thinks about getting married and having at least three kids.”

You look up at Park Jimin, who’s standing now in the centre of the cafeteria, with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding at one of the journalists words. His gaze is so intense and filled with such an authority that makes you understand why Chin-sun literally squirms when he looks at her that way.

It’s not hard for you to imagine him in much different surroundings.

Him, standing with a cup of beer in his hand in the middle of the crowd of drunken people at some frat party. There’s a leather jacket on his shoulders and he’s wearing tight-fitting pants that hugs his gorgeous thighs much better than his usual slacks he puts on every day before he sets off to work. He scans the room with a mishevious smirk dancing on his features, biting and licking his lips as he looks for his prey for tonight.

He then spots her, his pick for the night. He runs his fingers through his silky locks and approaches the girl, whispering dirty promises to her ear as he sways their bodies to the rhythm of loud music blasting through the speakers. Later that night he has her underneath him, begging him to touch her. He fucks her hard, leaving bruises all over her limp, exhausted body. There will be soreness between her thighs in the morning and a few violet love bites on her neck, a gentle reminder that all of this wasn’t just a dream.

But there’s no warm body next to her she could wake up to, no ‘good morning, baby’ or a second round of love making between the sheets. Because Park Jimin isn’t like that. He waited until her breath slowed down and eyelids fluttered shut, drifting her off to sleep. He left in the middle of the night, a cigarette caught between his swollen from kisses lips. He fumed the poison and smiled to himself, wondering what his parents would think when they found out. A golden boy of his family, future heir of the Park’s legacy, coming back from one of his sexcapeds with girl which name he didn’t even remember.

The Lord himself must have already cursed him and he’s currently planning the punishments for him in depths of Hell. But does Park Jimin look like he really care?

You stare blankly ahead, imagining those scenes in your head. You can’t help but squeeze your thighs because God, yes, Park Jimin is hot, even if he reads Breviary before he goes to sleep. What a shame he has changed. 

A smooth like honey voice pulls you out from your airy-fairy slumber.

“Miss Y/N?”

You jolt in panic after hearing your name, glancing around and praying that wasn’t the person you think it was. But this silky, melodious voice you would recognize everywhere.

God hates you though, he knows what kind of scandalous things you were daydreaming about and now it’s his time to punish you.

Looking up, your gaze settles on no one other than Park Jimin, who stares at you with his left eyebrow raised, pursing his lips. He extinguishes the aura of pure dominance around him and you involuntarily blush, squirming under his intense glare. You’re royally screwed.

You clear your throat, trying to calm down rapidly beating heart. Without success.

“Yes, sir?” you manage to answer innocently. Certainly not like you weren’t thinking about being fucked by him minutes ago. You don’t even have time to be surprised he remembers your name.

Park Jimin looks unamazed by your sweet tone; he almost seems bored, but definitely irritated. “I asked you a question and I’m waiting for your response.” he says lowly.

Fuckfuckfuck. God have mercy on you. What was the question? Shit, you don’t even know what fragment he had read before.

In act of complete desperation you elbow Taehyung for help but this little shit pretends he has no idea what’s going on, looking at The Last Supper with sudden interest.

You are purely, loyally, utterly fucked.

You adopt the most charming smile you could muster, knowing that it will have zero affect on Park Jimin and ask, “Could you repeat the question one more time, sir? I’m afraid I didn’t hear you correctly.” Jesus, when has your voice become so high-pitched?

A cruel smirks forms on Park Jimin’s lips. He shakes his head, tsking. Taehyung mutters something under his breath that sounds dangerously close to “It was nice meeting you, sweetheart.” You gulp, waiting for your sentence and hoping Pontius Pilate will be gracious to you.

“My, my,” Jimin muses. It makes you feel like a little girl being scolded by the teacher due to her outrageous behavior. You bite your lip so hard you might draw blood, waiting for your boss’ next words. “Of course you didn’t hear my question, because you weren’t paying attention to our discussion.”

In the corner of your eye you see Chin-sun shaking her head with detestation. What a bitch, you think to yourself.

You take a deep breath then, nails digging crescent moons on the skin of your palms. You don’t like being in the spotlight, you never did, but now you have no choice but face the consequences. “My deepest apologies, sir. The behavior I exhibited was highly inappropriate,” you say, bowing your head. Jimin eyes your figure from head to toe and you might actually feel his burning gaze on your skin. Your cheeks flush in crimson even more.

The editor-in-chief seems to deliberate with himself for a while, turning his head slightly to the side, not breaking the eye contact with you. Finally, after a moment that seems to last an hour, he speaks.

“I think you need a lesson that will teach you to pay attention to our weekly discussions, miss Y/N. That’s why I want you to write a 4000 words long paper about the role of Mary Magdalene in Jesus Christ’s life which we had discussed today but you, unfortunately, didn’t acknowledge it.”

You freeze. Like a scene in the movie, everything stops. The embarassement you felt earlier is quickly replaced by pure anger and irritation. He wants you to write a fucking paper? What is this? University lectures?

Never before in your entire life have you felt so humiliated. All eyes are on you; you could practically sense how they are trying not to laugh out loud. Eunwoo and Taehyung look at you with apologetic faces while Chin-sun smirks, whispering something to Jimin’s ear.

“I apologize once again, sir,” you grit through your teeth with a forced smile. Jimin nods then, not even bothering to look at you again. You’re dismissed, that’s what his behavior is saying.

“Our meeting is over, you can go back to your work.” Jimin announces and walks away from the cafeteria with Chin-sun by his side.

You wait for everyone to leave and the you let out a groan of annoyance, burring your head in your hands.

“Hey, it could have been worse. He didn’t fire you after all.” Taehyung laughs but he quickly shuts up as soon as he sees your glare. You stand up from your chair with a scowl written all over your face, and storm out of the lunchroom.

And may the God help you.

Later that unfortunate day, you sit by your desk again, scrolling through the Ask and you shall find page absentmindedly and waiting for the new asks to come. Everyone has returned to their work like nothing has happened but it doesn’t stop you from feeling all those eyes constantly on your back. Maybe you weren’t fired but the humiliation and embarrassment of being told off by your boss publicly makes you want to disappear and never show up at the editorial again.

“Y/N,” Taehyung’s deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You look up at him and find the man smiling at you lightly. He’s wearing a long, camel coat and a big scarf around his neck with ridiculous patterns that reminds you of Persian diwans. He places his black camera bag on the desk, which means he’s leaving the office. “I’m free of office work for today so I just wanted to say goodbye.” he explains and you just nod.

“Bye, Taehyung. See you on Monday.” you say maybe a little bit to wryly and he feels that, letting out a long sigh.

Taehyung seems to deliberate with himself for a moment before he decides to speak again. He clears his throat audibly. “And I, uhm, I’m sorry. It’s my fault that you are in this situation. I started this conversation and I should be the one writing this stupid paper for Mister Prude.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the new nickname Taehyung gave Jimin. The anger you felt before drifts away from you slowly, and you smile at your friend apologetically. “Oh, God, Tae. I’m such a bitch sometimes, sorry,” you blurt out.”I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at him. Besides, maybe that’s good I’ve got homework. I don’t remember when was the last time I wrote some-”

Your words are interrupted by a loud laugh that resonates through the office. You look in the direction of the voice just to see Chin-sun with her manicured hand on Jimin’s chest, throwing her head back from the laughter, too dramatically for your taste. She seems to have changed her clothes, a black pencil skirt long forgotten and replaced by a red, bodycon dress. Her dark hair is also styled differently, curled and loose. She looks beautiful, matching Jimin’s appearance perfectly.

“Where are they going?” Taehyung whispers to you, furrowing his brows. You shrug your shoulders, tearing your eyes of Chin-sun and Jimin. “Maybe our Mary Magdalene’s plan to win Jesus’ heart is working. Poor Eunwoo,” he sighs, looking at his watch to check the time. “Anyway, I gotta go. I have to drive all the way to some shithole near the city to take photos of an old lady who swears she saw saint Francis or other dude with halo speaking to her,” he grumbles and you giggle at his words. “Good luck with your paper, sweetheart.” he leans and places a small peck on your cheek.

“Bye, Tae.” you say, watching him leave the office right after Jimin and Chin-sun.

You let out a long, tired sigh, counting the time to leave the office and finally be back home, with a bottle of red wine and new season of Game of Thrones that are waiting for you to watch the whole week. Then, when you’re about to stand up and make yourself another coffee, a new ask pops up in your inbox with the title ‘Sex S.O.S’.

You raise your eyebrows because honestly, what kind of title is this? Curiosity wins the battle with a hot cup of an americano and you click the show more button. You put on your prescription glasses and start reading.

Dear Sunday’s Spirit editorial,

My name is Kang Seoyeon. I study medicine at the University of Seoul, I’ve got an amazing group of friends and a loving boyfriend. And here’s where the actual problem begins. I’m from the catholic family with long traditions, and as you can guess, he isn’t.

We’ve been together for almost 2 years now and since my parents don’t want me to live with him before the marriage, there’s also no sexual life between us. I was actually surprised they agreed I can date a non-religious person in first place, so the rules weren’t that horrible at the beginning.

My boyfriend always seemed to be understanding about the fact that I’m catholic and he has never had issues against it because I stated this on the start of our relationship, but lately… he’s been distant. We meet up less often and I feel like simple kissing after 2 years isn’t enough for him. I even thought about initiating something that wouldn’t necessarily involve the real intercourse but I’m too inexperienced and shy for that. We are slowly drifting apart.

I don’t know what to do. I love him so much and I don’t want to lose him just because of some stupid rules I need to follow. I’m scared he will leave me for some other beautiful girl who wouldn’t have anything against sleeping with him, especially after considering the fact that he isn’t virgin unlike me and he experienced this kind of pleasure before.

I hope you will help me.

Yours faithfully,

Kang Seoyeon.

You blink once, twice. Read the message again and then, something snaps in you.

To Hell with these stupid, old-fashioned rules straight from the Middle Ages. To Hell with celibacy till marriage, masturbation prohibition and living according to God’s will. To Hell with Park Jimin and his ridiculous moral code (and his Bible contemplation lunchbreaks).

Unofficial eleventh commandment: If a girl wants a dick, she deserves to have it.

And that’s exactly what your response to the girl is in a nutshell.

Your blood boils in your veins with anger as you’re typing furiously on the keyboard, not even bothering to check if your sudden outburst makes any sense.

Dear Seoyeon,

It’s Y/N here, the journalist who you wrote this message to.

I don’t know what kind of response are you expecting from me but honestly? If you think I’m going to recommend you some praying to Saint Rita then you’re wrong. I’m done with this shit.

Let me make this straight: if you want to fuck your boyfriend, do it. Maybe God wouldn’t approve that but don’t worry, he won’t send you to hell because of some dick in your pussy.

They are plenty of worse things in this world than having sex with the person you love. Look at me. I’m literally writing to catholic newspaper while using words like ‘God’ and ‘Fuck’ in the same sentence. And that’s not even a small piece of what I’ve done in my life.

So you go girl, suck your boyfriend off. Make him beg. He will never leave you after this. You have my blessings and Jesus is giving you metaphysical thumbs up from above. Sex is amazing thing and you don’t have to wait for it until you say ‘yes’ in front of some guy in black cassock. Just go with the flow.

 May the God help you!

Love, Y/N.

P.S. Watch out that guy. He seems suspicious. If he’s been really sex deprived for two years he will die after you give him a head.

Sent.

You exhale loudly, staring at the screen. You did that. Six months into working in Sunday’s Spirit and the time when you lost your temper has finally come. You should probably feel ashamed or have some type of conscience pangs but actually you aren’t even near this state.

Grinning to yourself, you delete the message you had sent to the girl from your inbox and check the time. It’s almost 5pm and it looks like you haven’t even realised you’re the only person at the office right now. Since it’s Friday and Jimin has already left, seems like everyone has decided to set off earlier too.

You turn off your computer, packing your things to the bag. Wrapping a scarf around your neck tightly, you leave the building, welcoming the coolness of the early Spring evening in Busan.

When you’re about to cross the street, your phone buzzes in the pocket of your coat. You stop for a moment, smiling to yourself when you read the message.

[04:23pm] from Tae: hey

[04:23pm] from Tae: i know you are probably planning an evening with mary magdalene n jesus but

[04:23pm] from Tae: wouldnt u want to go for drinks with me tonight?

[04:23pm] from Tae: same place as usual

[04:24pm] from Tae: as a wise man once said: nothing helps better for the writer’s block than vodka

[04:24pm] from Tae: so what do u say?

You don’t need to think twice when you quickly type a response. Game of Thrones and wine can wait till another time.

[04:26pm] from me: how could i say no to kim taehyung and vodka?

[04:26pm] from me: see u there

Kim’s is a place like no one other in Busan.

You wouldn’t even know about its existence if it wasn’t Taehyung who took you there first when you started working at Sunday’s Spirit, solemnly promising free drinks. Who would you be if you didn’t agree to that?

When you arrived at the bar, it eventually turned out the alcohol was costless hence it’s his family business since over thirty years and his brother Namjoon is a bartender, not because Taehyung willingly decided to pay for you.

Kim’s is located in rather industrial part of the city, sandwiched between factories and huge housing estates, not looking really inviting at first glance, but the place has its own, unique charm. There are some stories, shrouding the building’s history in mystery. Some people say it used to be headquarters of the most dangerous mafia in Busan, some even believe it served as the secret arsenal during the Korean War.

But what’s definitely true, it’s the fact that Taehyung’s parents bought this place in swinging times of 80s for a small amount of money and turned the place into disco bar which had become a must-go spot for young people in Busan.

Kim’s on the outside, with its large red neon sign hanging above the entrance, looks more like a night club than a bar, but on the inside the magic of kitschy 80s still remains the same (Taehyung swears retro is in fashion these days and that’s why he didn’t let his parents redecorate when they wanted to).

You always feel like you’re traveling back in time when you visist Kim’s.

The place is quite big, with a large dancefloor in the middle and red leather sofas strewn around the place along with the tables. Walls are made of brick and colorful, vibrant neon lights are shimmering on them. Oh, not to mention the huge disco ball on the ceiling. Everything accompanied with the quality music provided by Namjoon.

There are few billiard and foosball tables in the corner of the bar, always occupied by the same group of middle-aged men on weekdays and university students on weekends. But the thing that attract attention of the customers the most, is the bar with Namjoon behind it.

When you enter the place, you spot Taehyung and his blond mop of hair immediately. He sits on one of the bar stools, talking to his older brother. He’s wearing beige pants and floral button-up shirt that seems to match colors with his pinkish-looking drink he holds. You notice a new pair of sapphire earrings and a huge ring from the same collection on his forefinger. Classy, as always.

Taehyung grins broadly when he sees you. He puts his drink on the counter and stands up to greet you. His breath smells like strawberries and vodka when he leans to place his usual, small peck on your cheek. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says with his signature smirk plastered on his face, scanning your figure. “You look gorgeous. Last time you did this kind of make-up you wanted to get laid.”

You rolls your eyes at his words, sitting on a stool next to him. “Hi, Taehyung. Thank you for appreciating my efforts to look like a decent human being but no, I’m not planning on getting laid tonight.” you answer, waving to Namjoon who makes drinks for a group of girls a few meters from you. He smiles bashfully at you, showing his dimples.

“I’m not saying you want a fuck, calm down. I just assumed since it’s not everyday that you put eyeliner on,” Taehyung explains himself. “So let me do that again,” He takes a deep breath, placing a hand on his chest in a dramatic manner. “Y/N, you look absolutely breathtaking. I could stare at you for hours and I wouldn’t mind that even a bit. My homosexuality is at risk right now.”

You ignore his exeggarated outburst, rolling your eyes. “I’m not using eyeliner everyday because there’s something called dresscode in our work, you know?” you say. “Besides, my mum says you should look good on every occasion because you don’t know when you will meet the love of your life.”

Taehyung puts a hand on his heart and sighs with relief. “Thank God I always look good.”

You chuckle and then your eyes wander for a moment to Namjoon, who seems busy listening to whatever the pink-haired girl is telling him with polite smile on his face.

“Here,” Taehyung nudges your side, bringing your attention back to him. He hands you the same pinkish drink as he was drinking when you arrived. “Hyung told me it’s their new specialty or something. It’s called Flamingo’s Beach,” he says and you take the glass in your hand. “I have no idea what Namjoonie-hyung put here but as long as it looks good, it’s good. Cheers!” Taehyung sips his one and watches you with raised eyebrows as you’re taking a generous gulp of the drink. “And…?” he asks.

You lick your lips, humming to yourself. “Not bad. Tastes like strawberries.”

Taehyung opens his mouth to say something but he gets interrupted by his brother. “Y/N, hi. How are you?” Namjoon approaches you with two beer mugs in his hands.

His hair is back to his natural brown color now, purple strands long forgotten since the last time you saw him. It looks like he’s been working out lately, his posture more bulky and it makes his black shirt stick to his body tightly. Namjoon’s good-looking, you always knew that, but he seems to be even more handsome now.

“Hey, I’ve been good, thank you,” you greet him with maybe too much enthusiasm for your liking. You always had a weak spot for him. “How’s the bar going?” you ask.

“Busy, as you can see,” he replies, chuckling to himself. “I would love to talk to you more but I have some work to do in back room, so…” Namjoon trails off sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

“Oh, it’s okay. We can catch up another time.” You smile at him and you could swear his cheeks flushed.

“I’ll be going. See you.” Namjoon stammers out, not even waiting for your response before he disappears from your sight.

The pregnant silence sets in between you and Taehyung, something heavy hangs in the air and you feel it, tapping your fingers on the counter to the rhythm of one of the ABBA songs, waiting impatiently.

Taehyung looks like he’s debating with himself in his head. You narrow your eyes. He’s adopted a face you know pretty well, too well even. He looks everywhere but keep avoiding your gaze. He wants to ask you something, you’re sure of it, but he doesn’t know how.

Finally, after a moment of awkward quietness, Taehyung finally opens his mouth. “So, here’s the thing,” he starts and you wait for the bomb to drop.

Last time when he approached you like that, he asked you if you would be down for a threesome with him and some guy he met on Tinder. Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you heard his blunt proposition. You were eating lunch at cafeteria and the words casually slipped from between his lips as he chewed on his egg sandwich, like he didn’t just propose you having sex with him and instead asked for a lift to home after work.

Taehyung begged you for a whole week, pleading and convincing it’ll be fun. When you eventually agreed (sex draught make people do stupid things), the other guy didn’t show up. You ended up drinking tequila shots with Taehyung that night in his apartment, and you can’t quite recall how it happened, but somehow you found yourself unzipping your friend’s pants and the rest is history. He passed out right after he came. Now when you think about it, you feel a sudden urge to ask him if he remembers that.

You will do it next time, you promise yourself.

Taehyung though doesn’t ask you about having a threesome or robbing Park Jimin’s house this time. His intentions are pretty much different.

“See, Namjoon split up with his girlfriend few weeks ago,” he says and you prick your ears. “He’s not in good condition right now, as you can see. It was a nasty break up, he found out she’s been cheating on him,” He lets out a long sigh. You bite your lip, imagining Namjoon’s disappointed face when he discovered the truth. What a bitch cheats on someone like him? “So, I thought maybe you could… cheer him up a little bit?” Taehyung ends hesitantly, with a glint of hope in his eyes.

You frown. Cheer him up? Did he just imply what you think about?

“Look, I get it, he’s sad and angry, but what the fuck, Taehyung? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to be his rebound? Make him forget?” you exclaim. Taehyung quickly shakes his head but you don’t let him say anything. “I feel sorry for Namjoon but I’m not going to take advantage of him when he’s literally still hurt.”

“No, it’s not like that!” Taehyung rushes to explain. “Well, maybe it sounded like that but I swear, I didn’t mean that!”

“Then what should I do? Wipe his tears? Tell him a joke? Or maybe-”

“Of course he wants you to suck his brother’s heartbroken dick, doll.”

A sudden, low voice interrupts your conversation. Your eyes follow the direction when it comes from, looking to Taehyung’s left where not even a meter away a very familiar grey-haired man with feline eyes sits.

“Min Yoongi,” you say matter-of-factly.

The leader of emendation team from Sunday’s Spirit editorial raises his hand in which he holds whiskey, greeting you and Taehyung. “Hello, doll. Hello, Taehyung,” he says, not even bothering to look at you.

You elbow Taehyung searching for explanation but he shrugs his shoulders, turning to face the man as well.

“First of all, since when do you call me ‘doll’? We have never spoken a word to each other. Secondly, how long have you been sitting here and listening?” you ask Yoongi.

He snorts, smirking. “Long enough to know how Taehyung comforts his brother after break up.” he simply answers and Taehyung’s cheeks blush in crimson at his words.

“You come here often? I’ve never seen you here before,” you continue, crossing your arms over chest.

Next to you Taehyung lets out a sigh. “Yes, he does. Albeit I haven’t seen him for a while here,” You look at him in confusion. “Yoongi-hyung is Namjoonie-hyung close friend from university days.” he clarifies.

You raise your eyebrows at that. “So Namjoon went to the same school as Park Jimin?”

“Not the same. We met under different circumstances.” Yoongi cuts in.

“They’ve been together in underground rap group, or some shit. Didn’t like each other at first but eventually stuck together till the end of studies.” Taehyung ends and grey-haired man nods.

You can’t help but chuckle at that.

“What’s funny in that?” Yoongi scowls.

“Nothing. I just imagined you and Namjoon in snapbacks, rapping about the unfairness of social hierarchy,” you say, grinning at him.

“Well, you may believe me or not, but we even made a mixtape.” Yoongi reveals proudly, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Your eyes widen in curiosity. “Then what happened? Why aren’t you in Seoul now, still producing music? Why do you work in this stupid newspaper and Namjoon’s a bartender?” you ask interrogatively.

“Life happened, doll. We didn’t have enough money to publish our works so we decided to quit it.”

“Oh,” you breathe out.

You could see the nostalgia written across Yoongi’s face. You feel sorry for him, for Namjoon. Everything is always about the money. That’s why you’re working in Sunday’s Spirit even though it was never your dream in first place. Even though you have much higher ambitions than being Ask and you shall find column author.

Ever since you were little, you loved writing. You never complained, not even once, when your teachers in school assigned you to write something. They kept saying you have an extraordinary talent and it would be a shame if you didn’t do anything with that.

During your high school years, you were the leader of school newspaper’s team, still writing your own works every time you didn’t have something different to do. After that, you got to the university in Seoul, your another dream came true. You got a master degree, an apprenticeship in the Korean version of highly popular, world-widely known magazine. And then, nothing. No job applications available. No newspapers or publishing companies wanting you, dismissing you right away because they didn’t have any vacant places.

This is how Sunday’s Spirit, even if that’s not your dream job, happened. And quite literally saved your ass.

“I’m sorry.” you say after a while.

Yoongi smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t be. What’s in past, stays in past.” he ends the conversation, drinking the rest of his whiskey.

You find this as a perfect possibility to do what you’ve come here for: get wasted, forget about this prick Park Jimin and his stupid assignment. You turn around on your stool to face the bar again, calling for the red-haired bartender named Hoseok who’s substituting Namjoon right now. You order a round of tequilla shots and quickly pours two of them in one go.

“Easy, tiger,” Taehyung teases, still sipping his pink drink as you wipe your chin with the back of your hand. Taehyung has stated a long time ago that he enjoys only casual drinking, which makes you and you lightweightness snort at him.

“Loser,” you mumble under your breath, deep down knowing you’re oh so much going to regret this after.

You focus your attention on the dancefloor now; technicolor lights glittering as the crowd of sweaty people bounce to old Madonna hits. You feel like your spirit might actually experience new kind of awakening during the chorus in Like a Virgin. You mouth the lyrics, the vodka already half-way to your bopping head. Your drunken self almost asks Taehyung and Yoongi if they would agree to be your backup dancers.

You eyes scan the room carefully and then, you spot him. He’s sitting in the corner, his arms splayed over the backrest of the red couch. A devil himself. A black horseman of the Apocalypse. A man who looks like every girl’s next mistake. Taylor Swift’s ‘we are never ever getting back together’.

A true sin.

Jet-black hair parted in the middle, onyx eyes and lucious smirk written across his lips as he bites them purposefully. He’s wearing a leather jacket and you wonder for a while if you would find inked tattoos on his body. He cocks his head to the side, his eyes glued to the same spot as he waits for something, or rather someone.

“Who’s that?” you ask, not even hiding your curiosity at this point.

Taehyung turns around as well, his eyes glancing to the dark-haired man briefly. “Ah, this, sweetheart, is Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin’s best friend.” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You raise your eyebrows, watching as Jungkook’s face expression immediately changes when waitress approaches him. He says something to her that makes her roll her eyes. She tightens her grip around the tray she’s holding, asking him for his order.

“Don’t worry. You are not the only one thirsting over him. I would let him top me too,” Taehyung whispers to your ear and you flinch.

“I’m not thirsting over him! I came her for drinks, not to get laid, I told you.”

“Okay, okay, loosen up a little. Tequilla makes you aggressive. Besides, it looks like he’s got his pick for tonight.”

Jungkook stretches out his hand and fixes the waitress’ glasses that seem to rode down her nose a little. The girl frozes in place because of his action and he grins, calling her cute.

“He’s trying to ask her out for two months,” Yoongi interrupts suddenly, again. It looks like he has nothing better to do tonight. “I’m serious. He’s here every Friday. Normally, he would have given up after the second time she had rejected him but there’s might be something in this girl that makes his dick hard and his heart soft.”

Jungkook’s eyes girl’s body as she bends to pick up the glasses from other tables and maybe that’s the alcohol swimming in your veins but you could swear his face lights up when she sends him another irritated glare when he calls her name.

“Does Park Jimin comes here often as well?” you ask before you could stop yourself.

Both Taehyung and Yoongi shake their heads.

“I don’t think so. Jeon comes here because he lives nearby in this huge ass apartment complex. His father runs a chemical factory and he works there.” Taehyung explains.

Jeon? Chemical factory? Something clicks in your brain. Right, you know who his father is. The King of Washing Powder. Another rich as fuck Busan’s snob.

“God, I hate him. I fucking hate him. What a prick. Douchebag. Asshole of the century,” The string of profanities leaves poor waitress’ mouth as she walks to the counter with tray in her hands. “How’s your day, love? You look beautiful today, love. Fucking leave me alone, love!” she mutters to herself, taking the beer mugs from Hoseok abruptly which makes the bartender raise his eyebrows in confusion.

“How’s your assignment about Mary Magdalene going on, doll?” Yoongi asks then, startling you.

You roll your eyes at him. “I literally got it today, Yoongi. I haven’t started yet.” you answer, gulping another shot.

On the corner of your eye you see Yoongi’s smirking. “I’m surprised, to be honest. You aren’t the only one who doesn’t pay attention to shit Jimin’s says,” he trails off. “I work for him from the moment he started this ridiculous Bible lunch breaks and I swear, he’s never called out someone like that before.”

“What do you mean he’s never called out someone before?” Taehyung joins in curiously.

“Look, I slept through the majority of these sessions and Jimin knows it, but he has never lecture me about it,” Yoongi remarks. “Maybe you’re an exception. Or he’s become more strict because of this bitch Chin-sun.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. You know Chin-sun has been making heart eyes for Jimin for a long time but what why it might have an influence on his behavior?

“Lee Chin-sun? What the office’s Mary Magdalene has to do with that? Besides the fact that she’s drooling for his dick every time she sees him,” Taehyung snorts.

Yoongi chuckles lowly. “Oh, so you two really know nothing about what’s going on between them right now,”

“What’s going on right now? Spill.” Taehyung says abruptly. You sigh when you see the way his eyes flicker with mischeviousness. One thing Taehyung loves more than photography and fashion is gossiping (and dicks).

“First of all, Chin-sun is a fucking bigot. And well… she might be closer to being miss Park than we thought.” Yoongi muses.

Taehyung eyebrows practically disappear in his hairline. You’re sure you mirror his expression right now.

Yoongi asks Hoseok for another glass of whiskey and continues. “My friend Seokjin’s wife is Jimin’s personal assistant and secretary. She heard this and that, quite juicy things I must say,” he says in a lower tone, like he’s revealing government secrets to them. You lean closer into his direction along with Taehyung. “Chin-sun’s father recently bought the claims to the most popular, conservative TV station in whole South Korea. But, what is more interesting, it looks like Park senior has some shares in it as well.”

You’re astonished. You knew there’s something looming in the air but you didn’t expect this. A TV station? Even your slightly drunken brain can calculate it’s very interesting.

“So the marriage between Chin-sun and Jimin would be pretty convenient for their families, especially after considering the fact that Jimin is the heir.” Yoongi adds, gulping the first sip of his new whiskey.

“Poor Eunwoo,” you whisper to yourself.

“But why so soon? Why do they want to legalize their relationship so suddenly?” Taehyung asks.

Yoongi lets out a heavy sigh. “There’s a rumour going around that Jimin’s father isn’t in good condition right now. Seokjin-hyung mentioned something about the heart disease. So, if that’s really true, you have the answer why he wants his eldest son to settle down already. Everything’s about the money, I told you.”

Taehyung whistles. “Woah, so Mary Magdalene is really about to be CEO Jesus’ wife soon!” he exclaims, clapping his hands. “Brilliant. Finally something spicy is happening in this boring editorial.”

“I wouldn’t be so enthusiastic if I were you, Taehyung. This kind of business never ends well,” Yoongi says coldly, placing his glass on the counter and standing up from the stool. He glances at his watch and throws a few bills next to his empty glass. “I’ll get going. It was nice talking to you, doll.”

“What about me?”

“Shut up, Taehyung, you’re not pretty lady.”

“I feel offended.”

“And I don’t care,” Yoongi mutters. Maybe that was alcohol swimming in her veins but you saw Taehyung lifting the corners of his lips in amusement. Weird. “Good luck on your assignment, doll. See you all on Monday.” Yoongi glances to your way one last time, adjusting his jacket.

“Bye, Yoongi.” you wave to him and a small, even sincere smile appears on his face when he as well raises his hand lazily and leaves. “Why didn’t you tell me he’s actually nice, Tae? I was always too scared to start a conversation with him because I felt intimidated.” you say after a while.

“I’m sorry, should have I set you up for a date with him?” Taehyung mocks.

A groan escapes your lips. “Could you please stop insinuating things?”

“You need to get laid, seriously. Like soon-soon. You get easily irritated recently. You need a d i c k,”

“I don’t need a dick!”

“A cock, Y/N,” Taehyung emphasizes. “A penis in your precious vagina.”

“Shut up!”

Several shots and a few drunken dances to Cindi Lauper and Bon Jovi, you’re pretty much wasted. And maybe, just maybe, you need a dick. And Taehyung, like a dipshit he always is, thinks that’s actually funny.

“Don’t wanna homff,” you slur, supporting your weight on Taehyung’s arm that shakes with laughter at your drunken antics, as well as his whole body. “I wanna danfce witfh somebodyyy,”

“Holy Mother of Jesus, you must be really drunk if you started referring to Whitney Houston’s songs. And you smell like booze,” Taehyung mutters under his breath and you whine, tugging on his arm.

“TaeTae, Taehyungie, pffleasee, can we go back?”

Taehyung ignores your grumbling completely. He exists the bar, walking (or rather dragging) you to the cab. As he tries to push your body to the car, he sees in the corner of his eye Jeon Jungkook, standing in front of his black SUV. The waitress from earlier accompanies him as well. It looks like he’s trying to convince her to let him give her a lift to home. The girl shakes her head at first but eventually gives up, stepping into the car. Jungkook grins to himself then, clenching his fists in gesture of pure triumph.

“I fuckin’ hate Park Jimin and his stfupid newspaper,” you mutter incoherently as you bury your head in the crook of Taehyung’s neck in the back of the cab. Old, korean songs are playing in the radio when you’re driving back home. Taehyung smiles to himself, hearing your light snores. But then, he falters.

Ah, yes, he almost forgot. It is going to be a long way to the third floor of your apartment building.

Next day, you wake up in the middle of noon with raging headache and an abrupt need to throw everything up. Frankly speaking, you had worse hangovers during you university days but it doesn’t change the fact that the state you’re currently in still sucks.

“Oh, good God, what have I thought?” you mutter to yourself while standing in the shower, letting the water cool you down.

Truth to be told, a drinking escapade when you have a whole ass paper to write in two days wasn’t the smartest idea you could come up with. You know that for sure, when you’re sitting down in front of your laptop with prescription glasses on your face and a cup of tea in your hand.

There’s a blank document opened on the screen, with only your name written in the corner and the title in the middle. You feel pathetic and useless, staring at it for 30 minutes straight. If you keep sitting like this, you might actually call Park Jimin right now and beg him not to fire you due to your incompetence.

“Get your shit together, Y/N.” you say to yourself, clenching your fists.

At first you fought about making some mind-map, outlining the most important parts of your essay, as you always used to do when you were studying. But there’s a huge difference between what you’re working on right now and what you usually did during academic days. Above all, at that time you were writing about things you had more knowledge about, not about Mary Magdalene and her role in Jesus Christ’s life.

“Ah, fuck it.”

You open an online Bible page and quickly type ‘Mary Magdalene’ in browser. All fragments when she’s mentioned shows up in front of your eyes. You fix your glasses and before you could stop yourself, you whisper, “Let’s get it.”

You don’t know how much time has passed since you started reading, but when you glance a the clock it’s nearly 7pm.

You went through every single page in the Bible when Mary Magdalene appears or when for some reason her name comes up in conversations. You read two thesis in which you found quite interesting facts about the heroine of your work. Also, you watched some conspiracy theories on YouTube about her, in which people claim that she was actually Jesus’ wife. You were bewildered, even in your post-hangover state.

And after all of this researching, you have settled a plan. You’re a journalist for God’s sake, you’ve been writing your entire life and none assignment will break you. So you start typing on the keyboard, filling the blank document pages with words, hoping that Park Jimin will approve your efforts.

On Sunday, you look like a ghost.

You’re a mess, cured from hangover but still in bad shape, especially after spending the whole night writing in front of your laptop. There are bangs under your eyes and you hair looks like you could cosplay a scarecrow. Your eyes are sore from staring to the screen for so long and you feel like you might collapse anytime if you won’t drink coffee in five minutes.

In between writing next paragraphs, you answer a call from Taehyung.

“How’s your assignment going, sweetheart?”

You let out a long, exhausted sigh. “It’s fine, I guess.” you respond to him.

“That’s lovely! I knew you would slay this, babe,” you hear him saying.

“I’m not done yet, Tae. I still have like a half to write,” you mumble and then let out a yawn, closing your eyes for a brief second before you speak again. “I would love to talk to you more but I really need to get this shit done as soon as I can, so I could have some decent sleep before Monday. I don’t want to look like an old witch when I hand in the paper to Park Jimin.”

“I know, I know. You got this, sweetheart. I’m sure you will make Mister Prude’s dick hard because of this.” Taehyung assures you.

You crack a tired smile even though you know he doesn’t see you. “Thank you, Tae.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” he says and hangs up.

You take another gulp of your coffee and start writing again.

It’s a little past midnight when you’re, with your last amounts of force you posses, typing the last words of the paper. As you look at your laptop screen, eyelids half-closed, you dream about nothing but going to sleep.

You did that. You really did. You wrote this stupid paper for Park Jimin and you’re actually proud of it. You carefully save the document three times (to be hundred percent sure) and as soon as you close your laptop, you pass out.

Little did you know what is waiting for you in editorial in a few hours.

You stare at your reflection in small mirror you hold, thanking God that he has enlightened the person who discovered make-up. You won’t say you look stunning but, after five hours of sleep you had in last two days, you would risk it all and say you appear much more than decent looking. You’re wearing your new black jumpsuit that makes your legs look longer and you even used a different shade of lipstick, painting your lips in crimson red.

And all of this for nothing, because when you stormed into the Sunday’s Spirit editorial to give the paper straight to Park Jimin’s hands, his secretary with polite smile said he’s coming to work later today.

You pursued your lips and handed the woman your blood, sweat and tears (you’re actually sure a few tears rolled down from your face on the keyboard while you were writing it), wishing you saw your boss’ face when you place the printed pages on his expensive desk.

“I changed a little bit the topic of my work while I was outlining it,” you tell Taehyung as you both sit together by your desks later that day. “I focused more on a role of Mary Magdalene character in world ruled only by men. I showed how a powerful woman she was, standing at Jesus’s side even though the church for the centuries referred her to whore,” you explain.

“Wow,” Taehyung muses. “You turned Mary Magdalene into feminism icon fighting against patriarchy.”

“It’s not like that!” You hit him in the arm. “You may laugh as much as you want but I actually got into her story.”

Taehyung smirks. “Looks like being scolded by Park Jimin wasn’t that bad.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up. I got humiliated in the middle of fucking cafeteria. I still hate him. And also, I don’t know what he thinks about my essay.” you say with a sigh.

“Don’t worry. He’s probably having an epiphany right now while-”

A voice from the speakers that certainly doesn’t sound like gospel choir interrupts him.

“Miss Y/N, please report to the Park Jimin’s office immadietly.”

“-or he isn’t.” Taehyung ends.

Once again, you’re frozen in place. It’s okay, you tell yourself, maybe he just wants to talk about my essay. But what if he didn’t like it? What if your sudden feminism outburst about Mary Magdalene was too much?

“Holy fuck.” you blurt out quietly.

Taehyung gives you an encouraging smile but he doesn’t look much convinced in positive intentions of summoning you to their boss’ office, he just doesn’t say it aloud. “Well, maybe it won’t be that bad! Maybe he wants to congratulate you,” he tries to comfort you, without success. You look horribly pale and scared to death.

“I repeat: miss Y/N, please report to the Park Jimin’s office immadietly.” Jimin’s stone cold voice pierce through the silence again. You shiver. The journalists in the editorial send you impatient glares.

“Whatever happens, remember that I love you.” Taehyung whispers, squizzing your hand, which makes you even more nervous. He gives you thumbs-up and you take a deep breath, trying to calm your trembling body. A whole Sunday’s Spirit team follow your movements with their eyes.

You stands from your desk on wobbly legs and walk to the door with golden sign hanging on its surface.

 Park Jimin

 Editor-in-chief

You take the knob in your shaking palm and twist, stepping into the lion’s den.

The atmosphere seems to shift when you walk into the room. You could hear your heart rapidly beating through the dead silence that lingers in Park Jimin’s office. “You wanted to see me, sir?” you ask after closing the door, subconsciously cursing yourself for sounding so weak already.

“Yes, have a seat,” Jimin says. “Give me a second. I need to finish something.” he adds when you sit down, not even bothering to spare you a look.

Jimin sits behind his desk, eyes glued to the computer screen. His hair is pushed back from his forehead, his jaw clenched. Oh, great, he looks pissed, you think to yourself.

He isn’t wearing his suit jacket like usually, which surprises you. His white shirt’s sleeves are rolled up, revealing a glimpse of veiny hands and his Rolex. This is the first time you see him like this. He looks so… unlike him.

Strange.

You use the time you have to take in your surroundings. Jimin’s office is painted in fair tone of grey. The rumors were actually right, there’s a smaller version of Michelangelo’s Pietà standing proudly on of the drawers. Behind the desk, on the wall, hangs a wooden cross with gold-plated figurine of Jesus Christ, and just underneath it there’s a framed picture of Lady of Fatima, which he once proudly showed to the whole editorial team on one of the lunchbreaks, saying his grandmother brought him this from her pilgrimage.

You focus your attention now on the wall filled with numerous diplomas and certificates, all of them signed with Park Jimin’s name.

You had read some of his works before you started your job in Sunday’s Spirit and you must admit: Park Jimin is a talented, smart journalist you aspire to be one day. It’s actually sad, you think, that he can’t pursue his career, wasting his abilities by working in catholic newspaper owned by his father. And as you know from Yoongi, his situation isn’t going to change soon. Maybe he was right after all. Money really does rule this world.

After a few minutes that seems to last forever, Jimin breaks the silence. “Do you know why are you here?” he asks, finally averting his attention to you. He stares so deeply into your eyes that you feel you might faint from the intensity of his aura.

You clear your throat, and then respond. “I do believe it’s about my paper I handed in to you this morning.”

Jimin raises his eyebrow at that. “Your paper? No, everything’s fine about it. I read it and I must say, you did a great job,” he says and you furrow your eyebrows. So if nothing’s is wrong with your essay then what does he want?

“Then… why did you call me in, sir?” you hesitantly ponder.

Jimin laces his fingers together and leans closer over the desk. “Well,” he begins, “Maybe you forgot or you really didn’t know about it, but I used to run the same column as you do now,” You nod your head, recalling what Taehyung told you recently. Jimin continues, “I was actually the one who created it. That means I am still, for this day, its administrator. Which leads to another conclusion: every single ask that is send to our editorial and your responses to them can be monitored by me.” he explains, gauging your reaction. You still don’t have an idea why is he telling you that, so you just sit still and wait.

Then, Jimin reaches for the paper that lays on the left side of his desk and hands it to you. “Could you please tell me what is this?” he asks, pointing at the paper.

You glance at it briefly. “These are the questions I got last week and my responses to them.” you reply straightaway.

Park Jimin doesn’t seem much satisfied after hearing your words. He then takes another paper and gives it to you as well. “And this particular one, Y/N? Could you please read it and tell me what is this?”

Ignoring his forego of ‘miss’, you take it to your hands and start reading.

Dear Sunday’s Spirit editorial,

My name is Kang Seoyeon. I study medicine at the University of Seoul, I’ve got an amazing group of friends and a loving boyf-

You gasp and immadietly put a palm over your mouth. Under Seoyeon’s ask there’s also, clear as day, your much inappropriate response to her. In which you persuade the girl to suck her boyfriend off.

Holy fuck. Jesus Christ. Shitshitshit!

Jimin said he monitors everything that people send to the editorial along with the responds. Of course he had to read it. Why have you been so dumb? How could you believe that simple deleting from your inbox would be enough? Why can’t you do something properly for once?

You gulp, trying not to cry because good God, he’s going to fire you. He will kick you out and write a bunch of negative letters to your future employees, in which he will explain in details how disobiedent, reckless of a worker you are.

“Did you also forget how to speak?” Jimin asks. You almost cry out right away from the coldness of his voice.

You muster up a courage and look at him, and that’s a huge mistake because as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re lost for words.”I-I don’t know what to say, sir,” you stammer out. “I have nothing for my defence. I can only apologize for my irresponsible and inappropriate behavior I exhibited.” you say, bowing your head down.

Jimin pursues his lips. He stands from his chair and walks to you, leaning his body on the desk. He takes the paper from you to his hands and starts reading. “If you want to fuck your boyfriend, do it. Maybe God wouldn’t approve that but don’t worry, he won’t send you to hell because of some dick in your pussy,“ he quotes your response to the girl and your cheeks flush in red; you wish nothing more than to disappear and never see your boss again. But he’s relentless and continues reading, spilling the crude words, humiliating you even more. “So you go girl, suck your boyfriend off. Make him beg. He will never leave you after this.“ Jimin chuckles to himself darkly and you shut your eyes. “Look at me when you are spoken to,” he demands. You quickly oblige, lifting your chin a little to meet his intense gaze. “Is that really how a good, catholic girl should act?” he asks in a mocking tone.

You shake your head. “No, it isn’t.”

Jimin clicks his tongue. “Do you think he really won’t leave her after this?” he asks out of the blue.

You furrow your eyebrows. What kind of twisted game is he playing now? “I don’t know, sir.” you answer honestly.

Jimin smirks. Devilishly, sultry and completely illegal. He then licks his lips and leans closer to you. You could swear his eyes are darken than before. Something has shifted in his demeanor; he looks daring. “Why don’t you show me then, how this poor girl should suck her boyfriend off, Y/N?” he whispers lowly.

Your eyes widen. Did he just-?

He didn’t. He can’t. Maybe you misheard him, maybe you started imagining things that aren’t real. Oh, sweet Lord, the look of absolute seriousness written on his face tells you very much different.

Park Jimin, your boss, the man who goes regularly on masses and reads Bible, wants you to give him a head. In his office.

May the God help you.

You should probably slap him in the face for his immoral proposition. You should save your dignity, leave and never come back again. But then, you clear your mind from all those twisted thoughts running through it and you realise that you’re walking on a very thin line. Line which is called unemployment and bankruptcy.

You think about your landlord who praised you recently for keeping up with rent every month regularly. You think about your student loans that you still need to pay.

And fuck, you hate Yoongi because he was damn right. Money wouldn’t buy you happiness, but it can provide you that.

That’s why you put away the humiliation, the what ifs. You shut your mind screaming at you and listing the future consequences. Maybe Jimin just tests you, but the way he looks at you denies it. He wants to see you on your knees in front of him. Perhaps he only wants to play before he fires you but you put that thought aside.

You at least need to try.

Jimin searches for any kind of protest in your eyes and when he doesn’t find it, he’s back to his domineering self. “What are you waiting for?” he asks, his voice an octave lower. “Get on your knees.”

He has a calm expression on his face and you wonder for a moment how many times has he been in similar situation before. Having a woman on his mercy and using her the way he likes. And now you know. All those stories you heard about, are actually true. Park Jimin isn’t a prude. He’s dirty.

You fall to the floor with a light whimper. Maybe it’s the last chance for you to leave, but the confidence that emanates from Jimin doesn’t falter your movements. You hate yourself for that but God, you want to see this man being a mess for your touch. Even if that’s fucked up.

And it’s wrong, so, so wrong, when there’s a cross hanging behind you, when he’s your boss who claims to be a good catholic, when you do that because you’re too afraid to lose your job. But in that moment, the morality doesn’t exist.

Jimin stands up to take his belt off, looking at you from the above as he slowly, purposefully pulls it from the belt loops. He doesn’t encourage you or say anything, he just waits. You gulp when he yanks his black slacks down, along with his underwear.

For a few, solid seconds, you just stare.

You aren’t a connoisseur of dicks. Dick is a dick, but Park Jimin’s length is just as perfect as the rest of him, semi-hard against his lower stomach. Your hands move to his sculpted thighs, running up and down, tracing the prominent lines of his toned abdomen. The muscles tense underneath your touch.

You don’t remember when was the last time you’ve gone down on someone. Maybe it was Taehyung few months ago when you were both too drunk to care? You can’t quite recall. Every move of yours is uncertain, but Jimin doesn’t mind. Maybe your uncertainty turns him on even more.

He watches as you take him in your palm hesitantly, hot and already stiff, stroking him several times until he hardens in your hand. The sight is purely erotic, filthy, and you lick your lips before placing a light kiss on his tip. Jimin hisses. That’s a warning. No teasing.

You pump him, trailing a thumb over his slit, spreading precum all over his cock. Jimin doesn’t say anything but from the shuddering breath he lets out you assume he likes it. You take a deep breath, wrapping your lips around his dick and swirling your tongue around the head.

Jimin groans, a guttural sound resonating through his whole body and you take it as a sign to continue. You ease more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down around his length obediently. Some twisted and fucked-up part of you wants him to praise you, call you good girl with your lips around his dick and throbbing core. He does none of that. His hands tangle in your hair as he withdraws, and you know exactly what’s coming next.

It’s an unspoken question on his lips and your jaw falls slacks on command.

A forceful push of his hips and he’s burried deep inside your mouth till he hits the back of your throat. Tears brim in your eyes and you gag, breathing heavily through your nose. It hurts a little, a dull ache but the content sigh and fucked-out expression on Jimin’s face is worth it. So you let him fuck your mouth the way he wants, let him pull your hair harder, wreck you a little more. It’s so easy to submit to him, to let him overwhelm you in every sense possible.

Your eyes fall shut and Jimin stops his movements, pulling from your mouth. Drool dribbles down your chin and you wipe it with the back of your hand. Jimin lets out a shaky breath, staring down at you so intensely it makes your insides tighten, even if you don’t see him yet.

“Look at me,” he rasps and you do, how could you not. The sight of your boss’ flushed cheeks and sweat forming on his forehead will be imprinted in your mind forever.

You curse yourself for wanting him to fuck you senseless right against his deck, with a hand around your throat muffling your screams, fuck you so hard you won’t remember your name anymore, no matter how wrong it is.

“Good girl. You’re so pretty like this, letting me fuck your mouth,” Jimin nothing but purrs, filling you to the brim again, until there are tears forming in your eyes and running down your cheeks, until he hits the base of your throat again and again and you fight back choked gags every time. “Just like that, fuck-” he moans, lowly and beautifully, head thrown back and mouth parted.

He’s close, you could feel that, so you take him deep once again and when your throat tightens around him one last time, he lets out a gutural groan and comes. You swallow every drop of his bitter release and when he pulls out from your mouth, you nearly fall forward.

Jimin catches you, placing his hands on your shoulders, balancing your exhausted body. You look at him through your half-lidded eyes. He looks so young now, so innocent, his cold demeanor’s gone and replaced by pure bliss written on his face. For Park Jimin, cheeks rosy, disheveled hair and loosen tie, you would do it all over again.

He then does something unexpected. He reaches for your face, brushing your tangled hair away and placing the strands behind your ears. This is a loving gesture, something exclusive he definitely shouldn’t be doing. You’re frozen, you can’t move a muscle while he wipes your cheeks from the reminiscences of your tears. He trails his thumb over your swollen lips absentmindedly, faltering there. For a moment he looks like he might say something, but he quickly shuts his mouth, regaining his previous posture.

You take this as a sign to leave. You get up from the floor, your knees sore from the uncomfortable position you’ve been in. You walk to the mirror that hangs on the wall of Jimin’s office. You sigh, seeing your current state. There’s no way someone would believe you that you haven’t just sucked a dick.

Your cheeks are flushed in pink, there are smudges of mascara under your eyes and your lipstick is smeared in the corners of your mouth. Not to mention your hair is still a mess.

You are painted in all shades of wrong.

In the reflection of the mirror you see Jimin buckling up his belt and straightening his tie. He runs a hand through his blond locks and looks up, catching you staring at him. You quickly look away.

“Don’t worry. No one will notice anything. Everyone should be off for their lunchbreaks by now.” he says. He sounds so pathetically normal, yet there’s still a slight rasp in his voice.

You glance at the watch on your hand and check the time. It’s a little past 12. You brush your hair with your fingers quickly and proceed to leave, but you stop, remembering you have to ask about one last thing. You turn around to face him.

“Are you going to write a bad opinion about me to my future employees?” you ask, flinching at the hoarseness of your voice.

Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Bad opinion? No, absolutely not,” he answers, shaking his head. “I was never going to fire you in first place.”

You fight back the shocked expression that threatens to appear on your face. You quickly rush to leave this damn office and never look in his eyes ever again. What were you even thinking?

“And Y/N,” Jimin’s voice makes you stop with your hand hovering over the door knob. Single tear rolls down your cheek and you gulp. “I’m sorry.” it’s all he says.

You don’t ask him what he meant by that. You don’t deliberate if he was sincere or not. You leave the office as soon as you can, running to the nearest bathroom, closing the door behind you and leaning on it.

He wasn’t going to fire you. He just wanted to use you, demand to get down on your knees and please him the way he wants. It was all a game for him, and you became his plaything.

“I’m so stupid,” you mutter to yourself, burying your head in your hands. “God, I’m so stupid.”

You feel sick, used, but at the same time you can’t get away with creeping feeling that you enjoyed it, wishing he wanted you just as much as you wanted him in that moment.

You sigh, closing your eyes. You’re probably foolish for thinking it won’t have any consequences. You’re just about to face them.

The coldness of early Spring hits you when you exit Sunday’s Spirit editorial. You hug your body tighter with your coat, standing in front of the building awkwardly. You take a few deep breaths, trying to clear your mind, but nothing really works. There’s a vacant space inside your body, like your soul has drifted away and left nothing but emptiness.

You feel hollow.

You don’t know how long have you been standing there, inhaling fresh air and waiting for your blood to start circulating properly in your veins again. When you’re about to head to the underground station, on the corner of your eye you see Jimin’s black Mercedes. You probably shouldn’t stare but you helplessly do.

Probably if you didn’t, it would hurt less.

He approaches the car, looking perfectly fine as always, which you couldn’t say about yourself. And he isn’t alone.

You recognize dark curls of Chins-sun’s hair, contrasting her beige coat beautifully. The corners of Jimin’s lips lift when he sees her. You don’t know if it’s a honest smile or a forced one. You wonder for a while how does he look like when he’s truly happy. Maybe he’s happy now, when Chin-sun is by his side.

What you are really sure about Park Jimin, is that he’s a man of many maybes.

Something which definitely doesn’t look forced are his palms, cupping the cheeks of Chin-sun’s flushed face. He starts tracing circles on her skin in intimate gesture and murmurs something. Maybe he asks her how was her day. Your lips still tingle where he trailed his thumb over it bitten, swollen surface. Maybe he still remembers how they felt around his cock when he was relentlessly bringing tears to your eyes and stabs to your heart.

The way he leans and kisses Chin-sun’s cherry colored lips is purposeful, perfectly measured. Maybe he sighs into her mouth with content, a beautiful sound you have witnessed with your own ears, as you were working him to his climax. Jimin’s hands grip Chin-sun’s dark locks but it isn’t the similar manner he did to you earlier, as he laced his fingers through the strands, when you wished him to do nothing more than pull harder and harder, until the pain in you scalp was replaced by dull ache, until a whimper fell from your lips and eyes squeezed shut. He kisses Chin-sun lovingly and there’s no roughness in that. It’s gentle caresses and soft murmurs.

After a moment he breaks off, soothing his palms over Chin-sun’s shoulders. She sends him a smile and opens the passenger’s door, getting into the car. And then, when you swallow a lump in your throat, when you decide to turn around and go, run as fast as you possibly can, when you dream about nothing more but never seeing him again, you catch eyes with him.

Jimin looks pathetically apologetic. There’s something in his dark brown orbs you can’t read. Maybe it’s guilt, maybe regret. Park Jimin is a man of many maybes, yet he stares at you with expression you could only mistaken for sadness.

You wonder if he sees the way your eyes stare at him blankly. You wonder if he knows how he nearly wrecked your body and made you feel things you shouldn’t. If he hurts the same way as you do now. However, Jimin quickly diverts his head away from you, closing the door to his car behind him as well. You laugh quietly at the ridiculousness of this situation. A bitter laugh that escapes your mouth and deepen the hollowness inside you.

A hand touches your arm and you don’t even flinch, knowing already who it is.

“So you know the news,” Taehyung says, looking at Jimin’s car leaving the parking lot. How long has he been standing behind you?

“What news?” you ask, turning your head to look at him.

“Chin-sun is really going to be miss Park officially,” he replies. “Jimin proposed to her this weekend. The wedding is in may. But that’s not important right now. How’s your conversation with him, sweetheart?”

You feel sick. You excuse yourself, mentioning something about needing to catch earlier train and texting him later. Taehyung calls after you but you don’t listen. You start running.

You run until you couldn’t breathe, until there’s a soreness in your throat from the coldness of air. You run until you reach your apartment, stumbling into it on wobbly legs. Your back touches the wall and you slide off, sitting on the floor.

You don’t cry. The tears don’t strain your eyes. It’s only this damned, dull hollowness.

There’s written in the Bible that a guilty person is the one who broke God’s law, who committed a sin. The said person will be judged by their actions after their death. Because every human being has a conscience, the thing that sets the line between good and bad, so when we did something wrong, we should feel remorse.

When you sit on the floor and stare blankly in front of yourself, you know you have sinned.You both did. You wonder if he, trailing patterns of tender touches on his fiancee’s skin, feels the same as you. You wonder if guilt eats him up as much as devours you. Maybe there’s hollow ache in his chest, just like in yours. Maybe he doesn’t feel anything.

And may the God help you both find your redemption.

[elliesproblems]

To Whom It May Concern

Chapter Six:

The Road to Recovery is Lonely

Entry : September 11th, 2017

The fear that everyone secretly hates you and just doesn’t have the heart to say it is hard to pinpoint where exactly it comes from. It could be something as untrackable as a bad babysitter, or a mean teacher. Luckily for me, I’ve seen the fear take hold in it’s true ability in certain environments. Unluckily for me, it’s near impossible to avoid in a Christian household. This is where a sound like a sniveling atheist junior high kid. Feel free to read the rest of this in a condescending tone.

Apparently not everyone appreciates their value being closely related to how ‘Godly’ they are. ‘Godly’ being following strict rules that old people incorrectly quoted the bible to get people to become social slaves to them in the name of ‘respect’. Does it sound like I have more to say on that topic? Because I do, but right now we’re focusing on the after effects. It’s bizarre to some how someone can develop a mental illness growing up in that sort of environment.

It wasn’t until my early teens until I realized it was this that was tearing me down, and it wasn’t until my late teens that I won my freedom for it. I fought for years, but I was one of the fortunate few that can take hold of their surroundings at least somewhat. Of course, I got my fair share of ‘you’re going to hell’s and ‘god will only forgive so much’, and that was before I came out as gay to him.

Now, he doesn’t associate the strict ‘Sunday is only for church’ with going to hell, but I would be stupid to wait around for an apology. He is still waiting for me to come around like all I have to do is be willing for me to magically get better. I pretend that I will eventually come around because I don’t have the fight it takes to break free anymore.

For those that are religious, I understand it wasn’t this ‘God’ that hurt me, just the insensitive followers preaching love, but giving none of it. And I can go on about the troubles it’s given me. From my only therapist that dad would pay for being a lady from church who just used our hour as another church service to my mother feeding my fears by calling my dark figured hallucinations ‘demons’, and they got so much worse after that. I know it wasn't ‘God’, but the worst things in life are fueled by belief.

I’m going to save you the years of arguing and screaming and shitty ‘therapists’. In a summary, an unbiased google search turned up RTS as a possible name for it all and Social Anxiety can be birthed from it. So through years of fighting, I distanced myself away from the Church, no matter how hard Dad tried to drag me back to only get harmed worse, trying to get me to stagnate in healing. No matter how many times I was told I was going to hell for trying to nurse my mental health back.

And I got better, days got better. ‘God bless you’s  at grocery stores were easier ignored, and the comment from my aunt on how the cashier was somehow better because they took one look at her at changed their usual ‘have a nice day’. Eventually, Dad stopped treating me like I was next in line for Hell, and everything began to pull back into place. It was hard to understand a fear based in the belief that everyone hates you when I had so much proof of otherwise.

Until, I didn’t, and the fear twisted itself into a fear of never being able to see the hatred those around me are harbouring. I, at one time, was okay. The years of fighting behind me, and was moving forward, and I then I was lost and alone.

It’s hard to climb the same mountain a second time when you still have the bruises of falling back to the bottom. Especially when everytime I believe I have found a true companion, they shove me down to where I started. They don’t always wait for my back is turned either, like they’re impatient to see me to fall; to take away what I’ve fought so hard for.

But at least this way, when I get back to the top of my mountain, it is still mine to claim solely.

September 11th, 2017

I can be proud of myself. I have experienced what recovery is like. I’ll never be 100%, but having an anxiety attack is a rare occurrence when it used to be a daily battle. I did that. I found my triggers, cut them off or corrected them and made my own way.

God's words are not the only way, and it’s a long one for me if it’ll work at all. That’s where my problems are rooted, so I cut it off with my religious therapist and got my dad to stop preaching at me. And I got better. I get to be proud of myself.

And then, like the calm before the storm, I couldn’t understand why everyone hated me when I tried to compromise. I lost it all except for myself. There was no amount of fighting or begging that could help me. It was like a cycle, the minor progress where I would force myself to be me again, over and over. ‘The higher they are, the harder they fall’ is only supposed to be in stories. Or villains.

Until in January where I stopped trying to be better. Why fix what will just be broken broken? This is what I’m missing. Why I thought I could recover again. What makes me salvageable? You can only super glue fucking glass back together so many times.

It was only loneliness that drove me to J******, and I used her to drown it all out. Maybe I could overwrite what happened. I had made a point to leave any remnants of them behind. I was going to be better, but I couldn’t even keep a promise to myself.

Still, I managed to get back on my feet somehow. Reglued again.

Dad breaks his two year streak of no preaching and the fall back is immediate. He used to say he was proud of me whenever I was friends with J****** as if she really did replace what had happened. And then never said it again once I came out as gay. No one did, no matter the amount of guts it took to say it to his face or give T*** another chance, when all the other chances rip the progress out from under my feet, and I’ve only been trained to expect betrayal. After all of this, I don’t think it looks like bravery to anyone. More like desperation.

Dad ruins it again in one night. ‘The only way to recovery is God's promises.’ Like my years of hard work are null and void. He isn’t proud of my progress. No one is. I lost everything for good and now all I have left is a twisted relationship with the people I thought I knew. And if it's the only way, then im fucked because that is not a path i can go forward on.

But I can be proud of myself.

At one time, I believed I could get by, because I was left with nothing but myself. Now, I know. She had blown a hole in everyone I’ve known and trusted, including myself. Especially myself. There is a lot of times I don’t even have myself. I just wallowing in someone else's memories because Jay is broken apart and long gone, and I’m all that's left. All I can do now is wear her problems as a memorial until they break me apart too.

I’m not sure if it’s considered progress if it’s this fragile. It didn’t have the foundation it once did. The past events give ammunition to the fear of them hating me and the shadow of doubt makes the foundation transparent. I keep feeling the need to remind myself not to trust any one of them, but the problem is I won’t open up to the most welcoming of people.

I was the odd one out in my family, and the walls where always closing in on me at home. There was nowhere for me to run to; no safe place. Nowhere where I wouldn't be held accountable for something I still don’t know I did.

And then there was J******, feeding my need to have someone who never knew her or T****. She was the closest I got to trusting someone. It was easy when Dad was encouraging me with “I’m proud of you”s like maybe I really had gotten out of all of it alive.

Somehow I made myself forget it all. I left everything behind. Necklaces, shirts, notes. All of it. They had no place in that little yellow house. Just Jasmine helping me look forward.

But I looked back, and though it hasn’t blown up in my face yet, it’s ingrained in my instincts to already regret it.

[monstar-threat]

Let me restate:

I made a post when I first started this blog but idk what I tagged it but since apparently I'm SO WRONG on my belief system, here. We. Go.

So what is my belief system? What is my religion? Where do my morals lie? Well for starters, I consider myself spiritual. I pull practices and beliefs from a bit of everywhere such as Buddhism, Wiccan, and Taoism to say a few. One thing that I heavily believe in are past lives, karmaic debt/karma, guides, and supernatural creatures. With this being said, I will say that "otherkin/therian", WHICH IM EXCLUDING FICTIONKIN AND FACTKIN for reasons I will get into later, although can't necessarily be scientifically proven false, is to some degree based on your religion/spiritual belief system the same way the story of Jesus Christ or Allah or God etc. I know we might not want to necessarily think that way and memories can feel so real and astral limbs and shifts etc, and I'm not dismissing anyone and their experiences with this stuff, but what I'm saying is, otherkin/therian ideology could be disproved just like other religions. Technically anything can be disproven such as ghosts, paranormal experiences, Ouija board experiences, otherkin "memories", astral limbs, Jesus Christ, etc. But, just like with any religion, there will always be followers.

I kinda got sidetracked, but what I'm trying to say is that the whole past lives situation may or may not have solid proof, and just like Christianity, there will be different ways people follow different things. For example, some Muslims pray the X amount everyday without fail, finding a proper spot to do so, etc, whereas some Muslims do not necessarily seem like they pray the X amount since it might be done in their head, etc. There are Christian's who believe that gays are an abomination by a line in the Bible, and there are Christian's who see the same line and disagree.

There is no set way to believe in past lives/be otherkin is what I'm saying.

I say this because someone responded to me on a post and basically was attempting to drag me. Now for 1: I do not, and I HEAVILY do not believe that in this current life cycle, you ARE your kintype. Do you have traits from past life cycles? Sure! I will explain that later, but I wouldn't say that I AM a demon on all levels except physical, CURRENTLY. I am in a human life cycle currently. Every life I had before has brought me to this cycle right here, with the traits that I have. I might have to explain that a bit more so let me do so:

The way I see it, and it isn't the right/wrong way to see things, but the way I see it is like this: You currently are a gift basket. You are filled with whatever you want. Candy, soap, whatever, ITS A METAPHOR. Anyways, as you go through life, you use up bits and pieces of the basket. Maybe you give some candy to a friend or share a book with someone, etc. At the end of the life cycle, you may have a few pieces of chocolate and a shinny penny left in the basket. When you enter the next cycle, you add to the basket and restock it, but keep those misc things in there so the next person has some little extras that may not fit the current theme of the basket. Maybe it's a health basket and there is a bar of candy in there now. What a nice surprise! These misc extras are "memories", astral limbs, shifts, etc. You may not fully know what originally was in the previous basket, but you still have bits of that old basket in yours right now and you recognize that. You wouldn't say "Oh my basket is full of candy!" And show a basket full of soap with one candy bar in there would you? That's what it is like, to me, when people say they ARE their kintype in this life.

Now with that out of the way, the point of all of this is to say that it seems when people get to the nitty gritty of things in the otherkin community, they are constantly trying to prove one another wrong when in reality, people see things differently. Will I take you seriously when I hear "I am X on all levels except physical." And the answer is no. I won't. Just like Christians have to deal with the hateful christians, you might not agree with me.

I dunno. I feel life is way too short to police religious views and I know I'll be met with backlash because "Oh what about ISIS and terrorist groups who kill for religion" and I will say to you that once you begin killing people, you have no defense with religion because almost ALL religions preach the same thing and murder isn't one of them.

Now I'm going to go to the city with my love and ignore any controversy that may arise in my absence.

[almasidaliano]

Here’s the thing about Religion:

so i'm not religious. i am spiritual. to each's own, whatever you believe in, im simply happy you believe in something.

i grew up christian, i guess. uh baptist, ame, and non denominational. resonated most with non demoninational, even gave sermon when i was 15. and i loved it, truly. church is what threw me for a loop the most in religion, and members of the congregation. it's like hard to want to follow something when followers aren't people you would imagine when you think "Christ-like" you know?

i have always been skeptical about christianity. about religion in general really. so you talk to god and he hears you and he gets back to you with a signal or sign, a blessing or a lesson etc. very seldom people go through these experiences where they have truly heard the voice of God or seen some silohuette or something. its all about faith. and that wasn't the issue. "walk by faith not by sight" right? okay. it was the discrimination. the way people take it upon themselves to condemn others. the amount of sins people commit by simply having a judgemental conversation in a holy building is beyond me. the way the pastors feed off of the congregation. churches should be tax exempt meaning they are getting plenty to sustain their building from the government. why is the congregation dropping money in collection plates?

tides and offerings. paying dues. what about buying food for someone who was hungry? or simply giving some money to someone in need? why is it you go through your week being christ like giving tides and offerings selfishly whole heartedly, just to come to church and twice maybe three times a collection plate goes around while the pastor giving some motivational speech about how he know you got it; knowing you probably don't so to speak.

the most repetitive thing in the bible is not to judge and christians have got to be some of the most judgemental people i have ever known. when it comes to religion so many believers want to passively play god. they want to decide who is worth saving and who is condemned, who is living right, and what they need to be doing with their life. and that is not their job nor their place. you love thy neighbor. it never said unless xyz. no. simply love thy neighbor. it means be kind. love can be passive. it's treating humans like humans and not animals. common decency; which like common sense is less than common.

each religion has like its commandments you know those clear set of rules. i personally never thought these were things that needed to be clarified on the do not do list, however society. when you really break it down though, it is simple. be a good person. don't steal, don't kill. don't commit adultry (being loyal and faithful). etc. there are hundreds of stories in the bible. each open for each individual's interpretation.

if the title of the Creator is God then God is a woman. male and female exist yes i just think there is a little bit left off to the story. if there's a battle of the sexes women are the superior. first, there's father time and mother nature. time is a construct, it does not actually exist. ashes to ashes dust to dust. we all come from the earth.

see how the white man created a male god and sent his male son to save us all. "this is a man's world" (the Devil is a white man. and God is a black woman.) that is true, why? because Earth is the Devil's playground. what is so crazy is that the devil is this symbol of desire and guilty pleasures, rebellion and such and here we have the power to choose. life is about experiences. thinking for yourself doesn't make you a menace, how else do you learn? self knowledge is the best knowledge.

the Nation of Islam, is the prominent black religion. Catholicism and Scientology are the most prominent white religions. Catholicism enables sodomy and pedophilia. Scientology is a tax exempt cult, pretty much controlling the media and lowkey the United States. the Nation partnered with them and have been getting some heat from it, however i think they are trying to take it down. as time has progressed, everyone has gotten smarter. talk about a trojan horse.

Scientology and Catholicism kind of rule the country. all the many branch religions from catholicism just get ranked under that, however those two mainly. Scientology is a full blown brainwashing cult. they are the abusive partner in a domestic violence situation. most religion is. it's like religion or life. religion or family. religion or you know? more division. Scientology is more extreme in the sense that they really have policies and such enforced behind the rules and expectations. However, the same dynamic is kind of true for other religions. people get shunned and become estranged from their families frequently due to religious disagreements. it is truly disheartening because if someone is supposedly lost and you are their loved one, or simply a member of the following, why wouldnt you keep supporting them in the sense of like love companionship an ear to listen. instead, they force people to choose between trusting themselves and trusting their religion.

if your religion makes you question yourself take a look at it. you may be fucking up, you may not. however, blind trust will lead you off a cliff. almost all if not all religions talk about Jesus in one way or the other. there is truth in everything see? the Bible says its blasphemy to read another holy text. i want to find a Bible in the original script before people came with their intentions and made it what they wanted.

let's talk homosexuality for a moment. now i dont know how other religions work, however in christianity, christians love to condemn a homosexual. first thing, WHAT DOES WHO SOMEONE ELSE LOVES HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH ANY OUTSIDER? nothing. nothing at all. it has never been anyone's place to tell someone who they can and cannot love. there are scriptures, however they talk about pedetry and sodomy, rape, and male prostitution. crazy thing, it speaks a lot about males not committing homosexual acts but im pretty sure only comes up once about women and the topic was still men.

here's what i think: like i said god is a woman. so if the stories still hold true, humans were created right? so male and man have prefixes. these are word parts that come before. adding these prefixes creates woman and female. in that, i feel as though women were here first. (probably considering all babies start as females and then whilst developing testes drop or don't.) men cannot carry children, they don't have the nutrients in their bodies, they too have nipples however they don't produce milk. men were created as a tool. like a whole ass donor or carrier. men do not like to be "second in command". they feel like in order to be a man and wear the pants, they must do all the providing while a woman does the nurturing. whereas women are multifaceted and great at multitasking. men are constantly thinking like squirrels trying to get nuts. that's all they are here for lol. women could rule the world.

toats just a random theory: what if eve eating the apple and gaining knowledge was the knowledge of true love. like what if shorty realized she aint love dude they were just made for each other lmao. like men are here for reproduction. and to help when a woman's hand are full. i mean like they are in the garden and shit all happy and shit then shorty eat the apple give it to dude and they like oh no we naked. so they go find bushes and leaves and make some lil clothes or coverings. its the knowledge of good and evil so what if their union was evil lol in the sense of bad. like they get caste out stay together have two sons and one kill the other on some hateful envious shit. men provoke violence and evil. they are so prideful. so its like men love women, because they were made to help repopulate and to some extent protect. that's why men think with their dick heads. maybe that's why homosexuality is a "sin" or they try and press the issue; because of rape and sodomy. also, in effort to keep women unhappy since men were too. like it says man and man shouldn't be together, blatantly. not woman. man. because it was unconsensual, and they are here for reproduction so they kinda wasting product getting off elsewhere if you know get what i am saying. lol its a loose theory just popped in my head. however, it kind of makes sense. this lifetime we learning and experiencing things. at the beginning of the lifetime there was woman and then male was created with the tools needed to procreate. as life progressed, there are now ways for same sex female couples to have children. currently only girls can be born due to the lack of "Y" chromosome, however in due time. it is still presently possible for a child have two birth mothers in the present. that is what life is for, the condension of One Sound Consciousness (basically the big bang except not how they described it.). the condension of the Consciousness means when the Creator decided on this lifetime and created every single thing in it us included in order to experience each and every part of their creation. the Creator knows all, can create all, however has not experienced all; that is what lifetimes are for. the experience. the knowledge gained.

always trust the vibes. energy never lies. your body is a radar. you must protect your peace. meditation is like prayer, except broader. in my opinion you let go of so much weight and you gain so much clarity. do not stop believing. always believe in something. mainly yourself. if nothing else. the things that you eat matter too.  there are religions against eating pork, all slaves had was pig parts and pig's food. personally, i think it strengthened our bodies against more diseases and such like made us immune.

religion is simply something to believe in. spirituality is actuality. energy is undeniable. you can feel vibrations. and if you can't open your third eye because you are sleep and we need to be woke. we are superhuman. we have superpowers. for centuries, we have been under a curse of mental slavery. (sound familiar? this is why our ancestors laid down and took it. this is why my melanated friends still laying down and taking it.

having faith supposed to make you stop being afraid to die. so do yall not actually believe in something? because i get (ish) in general not wanting to die if you can help it. however, what part of the life you living is worth living truly? if you sat down and looked at the cards you were dealt, could you honestly say "nah im good, it could be worse ima ride it out." or some shit? would you truly rather live this life than fight for the life you want, the life you deserve and maybe die in the process? so what if they gone kill you anyway?

you know they out to kill us anyway. this is the land of the free and the home of the brave. you gotta be brave to be free. we caged or running the streets. "Ye though I walk throw the valley of the shadow of death i shall fear no evil-" trust yourself and give it to the universe.

We will prevail. We will prevail. We will prevail.

your God already knows your heart, learn yourself and fight like hell for peace, equality, and harmony.

-Almasi

[coquuin]

u bet ur fuckin ass im sending myself an ask meme bc fuck you no one else will so shit SOMEONE gotta. all the questions for Ezekiel bay bee

the amount of fucks that i do not give is unreal

1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?

well shit both of Ezekiel’s parents died when he was 3 so obviously he hardly has any memories of them, but! Ezekiel’s father was.. fucking hilarious! the dude had an amazing sense of humor–mightve been a stand up comedian, although not a huge known one?? he was always smiling and just trying to make people laugh! especially loved to make his son laugh the most.

so as you can easily imagine, 3-year-old Ezekiel obviously loved his father. i mean, why wouldnt he. although now that his father is long dead and ezekiel has pretty much forgotten him by this point, his opinion towards what very little he DOES remember of his dad is just like.. “why were you so fucking happy all the time? what was there to be happy about?” but, like i said, seeing as Ezekiel has completely forgotten him, he’s pretty neutral on him and doesnt really have much of an opinion.

2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have?

opinion wise, it’s the exact same deal as his father–seeing as both parents died at the same time. so he neither dislikes or likes her! hes just neutral.

however, as for her personality, she was honestly like the polar opposite of the dad. she was calm and collected, and a little intense. a very blunt woman who would not be afraid to call you out on your bullshit! sort of like Ezekiel now actually :) a lot of her mannerisms and personality traits literally resemble Ezekiel to a T, which he obviously doesnt even realize seeing as his mom has been, yknow, dead for all his life. but underneath that tough exterior, she was a very sweet woman! she was probably a doctor tbh.

4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient?

IN THE CULT.. it was like a literal living hell and EXTREMELY strict. which is exactly what this cult wanted! seeing as it was a Satanic cult especially. BUT UHHH.. i cant go too in depth on how everything was like in that orphanage, but if you REALLY wanna know all the gross details literally just do some research on Satanism or Satanic Cults and youll be sure to find some pretty gross stuff. all of that is what happened to Ezekiel there!

the things i can mention though!! every child had to wear the same uniform every day, they all had the same exact hairstyle (boys had a short bowlcut, girls had long hair which they were absolutely not allowed to style or put up). they were, of course, beaten severely if the orphanage staff saw fit to do so. medieval torture methods were used on them, especially for sacrifices. they were bluntly told, “if you try to leave, the Devil will kill every single one you love and come for you last”–which is honestly why Ezekiel always talks about how “the devil is out to get him” or why Ezekiel feels that he cant get close to anyone, bc he just expects the devil to kill anyone he gets close to! bc, yknow, he ran away. the kids were also often forced to eat or drink bodily fluids which Yeah is fucking disgusting. they only had one meal a day, and said meal was very small–so a lot of the kids starved, and thats why Ezekiel is such a picky eater and refuses to eat a lot of the time! bc hes just so used to having only one tiny meal a day, just enough for him to survive on, and any more than one small meal he always feels like he’s wasted too much money or something. a lot of sexual abuse went on too. YOU GET THE IDEA BY NOW IM SURE SO.. YEAH, IT WAS… BAD BAD BAD.

5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered?

EXTREMELY SHELTERED. he and the other kids in the orphanage were absolutely not allowed to go outside whatsoever. this was because the caretakers told them “THE OUTSIDE WORLD WANTS TO CORRUPT YOU, SO YOU MUST ABSOLUTELY NOT INTERACT WITH ANYTHING THAT IS OUTSIDE OF THESE DOORS!!!” and were EXTREMELY strict on that rule. one time, Ezekiel had snuck out when he was about 7, and brought in stray kittens, which he hid in his room! it wasnt long until his roommates snitched on him and the caretakers straight up just fucking cut off every kitten’s head right in front of lil Ezekiel and then proceeded to beat him afterward. so that kinda fucked him up!!! this is what led to Ezekiel’s reclusive behavior now and his generally being totally silent when he’s around anyone he doesn’t know (although he has gotten a lot better about the talking thing! albeit the fact when he does talk chances are he is saying something very mean. BUT STILL!). even now, he completely secludes himself in his small apartment, even going so far as boarding up all his windows to block the sunlight altogether. well ok he also boarded them up bc he has an extremely bad habit of trying to break the glass but. the sunlight thing too!

6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child?

REJECTION OFC. the orphanage caretakers never even referred to him by his name–instead, they called every child by numbers. in Ezekiel’s case, it was #34. even now, that is his least favorite number.

8. How does your character feel about religion?

he may not seem like it, but Ezekiel is VERY VERY VERY religious!!! after he ran away from the orphanage and later moved to L.A., he actually did convert to Christianity! he always wears a golden cross necklace around his neck and he feels like it protects him from evil spirits–obviously thats all in his head as no evil spirits are really out to get him, but it’s a big big BIG comfort item to him. he can easily recite a shit ton of Bible verses bc he reads that damn thing all the fucking time man. in general, his faith in god is a huge fucking comfort for him, as he always fears the devil is out to get him and whatnot–its nice to think that he may actually have god on his side to protect him.

10. Is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted?

honestly??? hes all over the fuckin place. he surprisingly does have some street smarts to him (from having been literally fucking homeless for a while).

although the only thing he’s really book-smart with is languages–he’s a big linguist! but otherwise, he kinda sucks at smart stuff like math or science or stuff like that–bc he never went to school! he did learn how to read while in the orphanage, but that was really about it.

not too intelligent either??? thats mostly bc he’s literally been secluded from interacting with people like all his life, so he’s just not really good at like.. reading people? and has little to no life skills bc no one ever taught him??

12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations?

ok so despite the fact that Ezekiel never went to school, his vocabulary is actually pretty big! although like i said, he did learn to read in the cult so. that really isnt too much of an issue. but he’s very very interested in literature and language as a whole, and always was even as a child! so even now, he devotes a lot of his time to studying that kind of stuff, and his way of speaking definitely shows it–well, if you can get behind the constant swearing, anyway.

16. What does your character do for a living? How do they see their profession? What do they like about it? Dislike?

he’s the guitarist of the rock band Rogue! his feelings on playing in a band in general is kinda.. conflicting, really. he isnt sure if he enjoys it or hates it. for one, he actually has HUGE stage fright–though he has gotten a bit better about it after playing on stage so many times by now, but it’s still a recurring issue with him and can sometimes cause complications within the band. it certainly is very anxiety-inducing for him, but at the same time… he cant bring himself to just quit, either. not even he himself is sure why he still puts up with the band, but he finds himself drawn to it quite often. he is very very very proud of being able to write music and have it be shown to millions of people though–hearing the band’s singer, Augustine, sing his lyrics to crowds, and the crowd loving it, is probably one of the biggest things that can make Ezekiel happy.

17. Did they travel? Where? Why? When?

well, his first travel was from London, England to Los Angeles, California! and thats where he eventually joined the band! and, yknow, being in a band that tours quite often, now he definitely has to travel a lot. which he absolutely hates. he would much rather just stay home in his stupid secluded cheap ass apartment, but hey, u gotta do what u gotta do

23. What do they want from a partner? What do they think and feel of sex?

when it comes to partners, ezekiel honestly doesnt expect too much from them–just a mutual understanding of each other is all he truly asks for, which should really go without saying in a relationship anyway.

hes not really one for sex! not to say he never wants to do it, though. he does have a lower sex drive than most people though–and the moments he does do it with his partner, it’s gonna have to be very gentle. he couldnt handle anything too rough tbh. also hes a total bottom so jot that down-

26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance?

his home is a fucking MESS. he has a tendency to destroy the entire room whenever he’s having one of his temper tantrums, and this is pretty evident all over Ezekiel’s apartment, bc he doesnt even bother to clean up afterwards. the only time he really cleans up his own mess at home is if its like, food or a drink or something bc he isnt that bad about it but. every room at his apartment looks like a fucking tornado hit him or something. and he couldnt care less what his home looks like! like as long as Ezekiel has a bed, he’ll be alright. he doesnt even like big homes all that much, and prefers to live in something simple and relatively small.

as for clothing, Ezekiel usually just goes for simple stuff. Especially wears a lot of jackets, hoodies, the like. a lot of baggy-ish clothing going on, but he actually is pretty fashionable believe it or not!

hair wise, Ezekiel just has.. no fucks to give. he hardly puts much care to his hair at all tbh. its just naturally curly and a little messy, but at least he keeps it fairly short so it doesnt get too bad. its probably a lil greasy tho.. someone make this boy take a gotdamn SHOWER

29. What is your character’s weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling?

theres probably several tbh IJOISJERIJ

but most of all, probably both his paranoia and his stubbornness? like he can hardly even function in every day life bc he cANT EVEN COME OUT OF HIS HOUSE BC HES SO PARANOID OVER EVERYTHING. and oh my GOD Ezekiel is so goddamn infuriatingly stubborn like GODDAMN. sometimes its just practically impossible to get through to this guy whatsoever. ezekiel can honestly be a pain in the ass

30. Are they holding on to something in the past? Can he or she forgive?

HE REMEMBERS PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING SINGLE FUCKING THING FROM THE CULT.. AND OH GOD DOES IT PLAGUE HIS MIND EVERY SINGLE DAY. like his entire childhood in that orphanage still is so fresh and prevalent in his head that he quite often has hallucinations of the events that happened there, especially when he sees certain things. like cats, for example! seeing a cat will literally send Ezekiel into immediate panic and he genuinely thinks he’s back at the orphanage where he watched those stray kittens i mentioned earlier get their lil heads cut off and he’ll repeat over and over, “their heads are gone, their heads are gone, their heads are gone-” bECAUSE. ITS LIKE HES THERE ALL OVER AGAIN! which is, of course.. yet another reason he hardly ever comes out of his home! bc he thinks “well if i just dont go out then that means i cant see anything triggering that will make me have another panic attack.”

as for forgiving his abusers? OH HAHA ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT. HE HOPES THEY ALL DIE OR HAVE ALREADY DIED IN THE MOST BRUTAL WAYS POSSIBLE.

32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively?

Ezekiel either:A) GETS REALLY FUCKING PISSED AND START DESTROYING EVERYTHING IN THE ROOMB) HAVE A WHOLE ASS MENTAL BREAKDOWN AND PANIC

33. Do they drink? Take drugs? What about their health?

unfortunately, Ezekiel is very much an addict :( he’s a big alcoholic, and also does cocaine, ecstasy, pain killers, xanax, and maybe some other shit i cant think of off the top of my head. but! hes.. a mess…. save him

35. Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures?

it depends on the person/people around him! because with anyone that he hardly knows? then he doesnt really give a shit and easily brushes it off, because he honestly doesnt care what strangers think of him anyway. but around people that hes actually close to and he cares about? THEN OOF. HE CAN POSSIBLY HAVE A WHOLE PANIC ATTACK BC HE REALLY DOESNT WANT TO LET HIS LOVED ONES DOWN..

36. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering?

of course not!!! although its.. not impossible for him to enjoy someone elses suffering. you would just have to like, REAAALLY fucking do him wrong for him to be like that, which is pretty hard even for him. like the orphanage caretakers! i assure u if they suffered Ezekiel would LOVE that. 

37. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

most of the time hes living in memories, for sure. either that, or he’s just kinda stressed or anxious! but not always necessarily a bad anxious tho! like if hes around someone that he actually likes, he’ll be VERY anxious, but like in a good way! just kinda excited yknow. BUT MOST OF THE TIME, ITS BAD OFC.

38. Are they basically negative when facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic?

VERY SCARED AND DISTRUSTFUL, PRETTY HOSTILE!!! remember hes fucking paranoid about every little thing rip.

40. How is their sense of humor? Do they have one?

well, most of ezekiel’s jokes involve swearing and yelling, so probably that! Angery……

42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

i think probably like.. parents tbh. or at least a parental figure. he’s only had one person who was like a father to him, but that guy is all the way back in London so Ezekiel hasnt seen him since :( and tbh for like most of his life, he’d always assumed that not having parents was like.. just whatever, yknow? bc you cant really miss something that was never there. but, after he ran away from the cult and he saw like.. people, he saw a lot of happy families and whatnot and just!! hes really jealous of anyone who has a functional, happy family now. it isnt so much that he misses his birth parents, just that he wants to have some kind of parental figure in general. someone that he feels he can actually call family.

44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them?

what’s sad? the fact that ezekiel… doesnt really have any life objectives! the only objective he really has is to survive. thats literally it. he just doesnt want “the devil” to take him–and to escape the devil’s wrath, ezekiel immerses himself in his religion and staying inside all day and night so that he doesnt have to talk to anyone! thats basically about it

46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How do they feel about their physical body?

he’s pretty tall! 6′3″! although for his weight, i swear to god hes like.. a fucking twig. i mean theres that whole “he only eats one small meal a day” thing, so ofc you can imagine that probably has an effect on his weight. BUT! that isnt the only reason hes so skinny! it’s also bc he has Klinefelter Syndrome, which is when a male is born with an extra X chromosome. so as a result of that, he is a little taller than most people, is very skinny, has weak bones, and breasts! and some other symptoms but i dont feel like listing every single thing so fuck y

as for posture, Ezekiel is usually a liiiittle slouched, but not terribly so! when hes stressed, however, he always stands up completely straight!

ezekiel absolutely fucking hates his body, though. he knows full well that hes not.. the most attractive–ugly, even. you know that “your toes, hand em over” meme? yeah, he looks like that a little bit. his body honestly looks pretty fucking freaky. ALSO HE HAS A LITERAL MICROPENIS SO THATS A THING! all in all, Ezekiel just… is very very very scared of showing off his body to anyone honestly. extremely insecure!

47. Do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person? Does they want to be visible or invisible?

Ezekiel actually puts on this whole temperamental asshole front specifically to MAKE people hate him! thats why hes so quick to be like “FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT TWAT YOU GODDAMN WANKER FUCK YOU”! because, yknow, most people are usually gonna hate anyone who says that kind of stuff to them and as a result they hopefully wont wanna talk to him! which is exactly what Ezekiel wants. yep, Ezekiel wants everyone to hate him! because if everyone hates him, then they wont talk to him, and if they dont talk to him, then he doesnt risk of getting close to anyone and getting his heart broken all over again! hes a mess……

49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent?

TBH FOR REFERENCE YOU CAN JUST LIKE.. LISTEN TO MURDOC NICCALS’ VOICE BC THATS HIS VC BUT. his voice can switch between either somewhat slow or extremely fast! it all depends on his mood. in his normal speaking voice, when hes neither upset or happy or anything, his words come out a little slow, but not terribly so. pretty normal, mostly. but if hes excited, whether bad or good, he speeds up when he talks a LOT. so much so that he doesnt even let himself breathe when hes talking! just like “FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUIHATEYOUYOUGODDAMNSTUPIDTWATAAAAAA”

his voice in general is a little hoarse! although he has gotten much better about talking to people (even if he is mean when he talks), he did go through practically his whole childhood just.. not talking to people very much at all. so that kinda shows in his voice now? but its not too bad. he has a pretty low-ish voice too.

as for pronounciation and accent, again literally just listen to Murdoc’s voice bc its p much exactly the same as him but. he has a very thick london-cockney accent?? i sure hope thats accurate anyway, im not British so im not 100% sure on British accents but.

50. What are the prevailing facial expressions? Sour? Cheerful? Dominating?

THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS THE WORST RESTING BITCH FACE IN THE HISTORY OF RESTING BITCH FACE.

ok ill just draw this one

his resting face!

AMGERY!!!!!

talking to his friends!!!

PANICKING

theres probably more i could draw, but in general, Ezekiel is VERY expressive tho! its pretty easy to read all of his expressions and emotions.

[pingnova]

i just suddenly really distinctly remembered the day of the pulse shooting, im on facebook and to my absolute horror, a man that’s like an uncle to me posted some biblical nonsense with his own take on what it meant, and he didn’t say why he was posting it, but i knew. it basically said those who sin on earth will get what’s coming for them. so he was obviously expressing some pretty intense homophobia and outright victim blaming. i knew he didnt like gay people because he and his wife distanced themselves from her two gay siblings but this was such a horrible thing to say at such a horrible time i wondered how i could have underestimated the amount of hate he had in his heart all throughout my childhood. and i felt in that moment that if i came out to him he would never really love me like he thought he did and like i was comfortable with. so i just unfriended him and his wife and have not talked to or seen them since. that moment was such a huge dealbreaker in our relationship that i just snapped them right out of my life.

im kinda mad because his wife, my kinda-aunt, has two gay siblings. i only met one of them once. theyre sorta family too and im pissed they never let me meet them that often. i know why but im pissed. before i met one of them and her partner for the first time my mother sat me down and said that this lady lived a life “we don’t do” or something. she used the word we like she and i were one unit and like i had no opinion on the subject or hadn’t known i was not straight since i was a kid. she didnt know that of course. but i was suddenly so furious that she thought she could decide my sexual orientation that i decided from that moment on to find out what mine was and to find a label for myself.

i dunno im just suddenly hit with a real big sadness and horror at that. my kinda-uncle justified mass murder with the christian bible. so much about that is messed up. i cant believe the west is going around thinking muslims are trying to kill everyone based on a religious text when devout christians will look at a room full of dead bodies and say yep i wont stop this from happening because my god wanted it. we deserve so much better than this nonsense. even the horrible anti-lgbtqia org that shows up at pride every year and lures people into traps to yell at them about god and sin condemned the attack. how... how detached and holier-than-thou do you have to feel to quote the fucking bible as justification.

urgh.

[paranoidsbible]

Ending Hate & Bullying

Ending Hate & Bullying Non-profit and free for redistribution Written on November 08th | 2014 Published on November 08th | 2015 For entertainment and research purposes only

================================================= DISCLAIMER The Paranoid's Bible and its writers hold no responsibility for the acts of others. The Paranoid’s Bible is for research and entertainment purposes only. Please visit our blog for more PDFs and information: http://www.paranoidsbible.tumblr.com/ ================================================= Contents DISCLAIMER    2 Preface    4 What is Bullying?    5 Freedom of Speech and Bullying    6 Trolling Isn’t Bullying    7 Cyber-Stalking Is Not Real    8 You’re Not Your Sexuality    9 Don’t Be a Bully    10 AFTERWORD    11 ================================================= Preface The who: People that have decided to combine their resources to create a repository of information. The what: A guide to helping people deal with hate and bullying online. The where: The internet: An abused form of communication, education and betterment of mankind. The why: To give people the tools needed to survive. ================================================= What is Bullying? According to Wikipedia, Bullying is described as thus: “Bullying is the use of force, threat, or coercion to abuse, intimidate, or aggressively dominate others. The behavior is often repeated and habitual. One essential prerequisite is the perception, by the bully or by others, of an imbalance of social or physical power, which distinguishes bullying from conflict.” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bullying) It seems pretty straight-forward, especially with the types of behavior they describe as bullying, which include things like coercion, threats, physical assault, or even verbal harassment. Wikipedia even goes on to claim that supposed rationalizations by the "Bully" include things like, social class, race, religion, gender, sexual orientation, appearance, behavior, body language, personality, reputation, lineage, strength, size or ability. The page from Wikipedia also explains that bullying by a group is called mobbing and that the U.K. has no official definition for it, whereas some states within the U.S. not only do have an active definition, but also laws against it. The issue with Wikipedia’s description, and the overall belief of bullying, is that “digital harassment” / “cyber bullying” somehow warrants the same actions and laws as the bullying that takes place in the physical realm of the offline world. The problem with “cyber bullying” itself is that, unlike bullying in the offline world, you can remove yourself from it. Cyber bullying is also undefined and is usually used as a blanketed term to cover something that upsets or offends people.  The cyber bullying many people discuss, especially the mainstream media, is one that amounts to coordinated harassment in the form of unwarranted comments, private messages, e-mails and overall childish and immature antics like for example: A constant, steady stream of spam that is usually filled with racial and/or sexual expletives. Another issue is that with current trends, people have taken to calling anything and everything they feel offends them or a perceived minority as cyber bullying. This is mostly seen, though, on social media and networks like Facebook, Twitter, Deviantart and Tumblr. By labeling anything and everything as trolling, cyber bullying or overall harassment… we end up with a diluted sense of what is or isn’t actual harassment and bullying. This causes the most minor and/or accidental forms of aggression to be seen as an act of all out war against someone. To cut the fear mongering created by the government and various charities that make money off the “bullying scare,” we’d simply like to state this: You can prevent a lot of so-called cyber bullying. ================================================= Freedom of Speech and Bullying There have been several attempts at removing freedom of speech (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freedom_of_speech) from not only the offline world, but also the digital one. Some people propose the removal of the limited anonymity of the internet to a full-fledged war on privacy itself through permanent IDs and horrendous acts of censorship VIA the removal of one’s internet connection. Many people think a means to end bullying, online or offline, is to stifle and censor people through a bastardization of social justice (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Social_justice) or through the use of forced “self-policing” created by identity politics (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Identity_politics), but it isn’t—it only serves to stifle and censor any and all who dare question those in charge. Freedom of speech, at least in the U.S., will always be about your right to say and state your opinions and ideas without fear of government retaliation or censorship however you want, wherever you want, within reason. You see, freedom of speech means you can say whatever you want, however you can’t go into a privately owned residence or establishment and start spewing whatever it is you wish. People have their rights to privacy, speech and security just like you, yet that doesn’t mean you’ve the right to invade their area with your speech. This though is easily measured in several easy to remember rules: • Is this a privately owned establishment or residence? • Have they stated or placed a set of rules stating what I can and can’t do? • Is this place for a specific group (members…etc) only? • Have they personally committed an act of aggression against me? • Are they near public property that I or others may use to voice our issues? • Are they a private citizen, a celeb, a business owner, religious person of importance (priest, pope…etc), an activist or a politician? • Have they set aside a “Free speech zone”? • Does my “Freedom of speech” violate other rights? • Have I asked permission to use their property? While many will bring up the harm principle or some other such argument, you should think for yourself and think before you act. Assess the situation, look at what you want to say and/or do, then look for other methods to deliver your message (like a flier or pamphlet), but we digress. Unlike the physical realm of the offline world, people can actively silence (ban) you by removing you and your account from their website(s). Websites and the communities created on them have to follow the laws of the U.S., and other countries’ laws, to an extent. This doesn’t mean they have to respect you or your feelings, though. There are no laws stating you’ve the right to not be offended and because of this you must realize you’re ultimately at fault if you become offended or attacked over something you or some else has said. Remember: You don’t have the right to an account or say on anyone’s websites or their communities or accounts. You must follow their rules, guidelines and TOS—you’ve no rights online, no matter what you think. If you dislike this, then you can make your own website, forum, chat or whatever you wish. Trolling Isn’t Bullying Trolling is described as, “someone purposely being chaotic and sowing discord amongst a community or individual profile.” This is supposedly done to either bait a person into doing something idiotic or to take away from a topic being discussed. Others also will describe trolling as similar to performance art where only the most subtle and intelligent can successfully pull off an attempt, whereas even more will claim it is a sub-culture based around a meme or some silly image of a stylized smiling face. Regardless of what you think, trolling isn’t truly bullying and never will be due to the simple fact you can not only ignore, but also block so-called trolls. Many people will proclaim that someone typing mean things and sending it to another user is bullying, yet as the old internet adage goes “Don’t feed the trolls!” -- This adage is something all should take to heart, as simply ignoring someone and the things they say can defuse a situation on the internet quite quickly. Bullying isn’t textual, nor is it someone spamming you with racial epithets. You can ignore those things quite easily with no real physical or mental abuse ever being possible. Growing your figurative “thicker skin” will help you out a lot in the end when it comes to the internet. You must realize, though, that the internet is like the Wild West and once you start participating instead of lurking, you open yourself up to the criticism and opinions of others. No matter how much this upsets or offends you, the more you push to silence or ban others, the more people will push back at you. Take breaks often and learn compartmentalization. The less people know about you, the less they can harass you for something offline. And please, learn, the internet is akin to shoveling manure. The more of your manure (opinions) that you fling around, the more others will fling back twice as hard. ================================================= Cyber-Stalking Is Not Real Before you discontinuing reading and disregard this entire PDF, let me explain – Cyber-stalking (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyberstalking) is stalking. There are no differences between the two once it delves into the offline realm; however cyber-stalking still doesn’t exist. Someone following your digital footprint from one account to the next and connecting the dots by cross-referencing the information, that you provided on those accounts, is nothing more than simple deduction. A lot of so called cyber-stalking (sending harassing e-mails or IMs, etc) can be likened to that of trolling. If you ignore the person and not feed them any attention, they usually give up and leave you alone. However, if you’ve a multitude of accounts across the internet, and you’ve shared a lot of information, then it won’t be as easy to simply ignore the person. Again, we’ll state that simple OPSEC (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operations_security) and compartmentalization (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compartmentalization_(information_security)) goes quite far in small doses. There are a few, very simple steps that you can take to ensure your safety when creating an account online. Now, of course, you can head over to our blog and click on our library link for PDFs on a plethora of topics that range from anti-doxing to OPSec or even things like cosplay safety, but we digress. If you simply want the Reader’s Digest version of the safety tips, then continue reading! Tips for creating a secure account: • Always use a strong password created by using special characters, upper and lower case letters, and numbers (Example: *_9233(DAv234)-) • Always ensure the password for each account is different and is at least 8 to 10 characters long • Always use a new e-mail address for each account, never using the same one for an account • Always use a different username for each account that’s in no way connected to your name or nicknames • Never post your real world information online (name, age, address, city, state, time zone, school name…etc) • Never cross-link accounts on other accounts (as in don’t tell people about your other accounts) You also want to try and lessen your already existing digital footprint by checking out our PDF called the “Paranoid’s Bible” at our library link on our blog. This will provide you with much more information that you can use to further lessen your footprint and ensure you have a safe and enjoyable internet stay. Other than the above, we can’t provide much on actual stalking as once you believe someone from the internet is stalking you offline (as in physically, not just dox) then you need to tell an adult, if you’re not one, and contact the police as quickly as possible. We also have a home safety and security PDF in our library that can help you secure your home and lessen intrusions. ================================================= You’re Not Your Sexuality Many people online love to treat every little thing about themselves like an attribute or a part of a description of some character or another. This, however, is quite dangerous as this provides other individuals with cannon fodder to be used against you. It may seem like someone oppressing you or trying to stifle your freedom of expression, yet it isn’t anything like that. On the internet, people love to generate drama from nothing for the simple mission of creating the illusion that there exist some great inequalities still happening in today’s day and age. While there are some hiccups, in today’s society, we’re still one of the more equal and diverse to ever exist. The issue is that the safer we become, and the number of inequalities becomes less, people will look to provoke an issue in order to use it for their own personal or political gain. This isn’t to say people out there pick on others because of who or what they are, but that people look to groom other individual, especially underage people, by manufacturing hate and inequality. This pseudo-hate is done those who think that if their group is seen to be as equal as the majority, then they lose their minority status that they treasure due to the attention it heaps upon them. Some minority groups try to fight this fake hate and rabble rousing, however within minority groups like the LGBT+ it becomes harder and harder as people pollute it with variants of already existing sexualities in order to take hold some of that attention. This is usually seen as teenage girls claim to be bi-sexual, yet only ever having feelings for their male counterparts. Because of this happening for so long, many bi-sexuals are attacked and mistreated by those within the LGBT+ due to the assumption that the majority of bi-sexuals are fake or somehow lesser than homosexuals. You’ll also see this happen with asexual and lesbians, yet this doesn’t mean it’s always gay men who commit these acts. Depending on the minority group, some people who’re legitimate will seek out young individuals to attack and shock in order to “rescue” and ultimately groom into following their preferred path of activism and political belief. It’s a sad state of affairs, but even those who’re most like you can abuse you for their own profit and/or goals. So, in order to prevent this, learn to distance your online self from your offline self. No one needs to know your sexuality, preferences or any other information about yourself. You’re not a character from an RPG; no one needs a back story or list of attributes. This isn’t to say you shouldn’t have pride in yourself, but only that the internet and its denizens will twist and turn everything about you and what you say into a perverted shadow of itself to use and abuse. It’s better to be some random anonymous individual online than a 15 year old, African-American, bi-sexual female who suffers from allergies. If people knew that you’re such a thing, then they already can work out how to prey upon you and get under your skin. Compartmentalize, don’t let people know too much about you. They can egg you into saying or doing something that you’ll ultimately regret. ================================================= Don’t Be a Bully Everyone has a right to freedom of speech and creativity, which means, as we said earlier: You don’t have the right to not be offended. This means, if someone says and does something you don’t like, ignore it. Don’t attack them. Don’t exploit their past or something they said. Don’t drive them to suicide—don’t be a bully. People don’t realize that they, themselves, might just be the bully. Attacking and censoring someone just because they did something they don’t like or approve of, which is quite ironic as most people nowadays hide behind the anti-hate and anti-bully ideologies while being some of the worst bullies themselves. You need to learn to accept the fact that not everyone is going to fall in line and sync up to your beliefs and ideals. No one will fully cooperate with you 100%, and that everyone has the right to draw, say or act as they want. You, though, don’t have the right to attack others or bully them into marching to your drumbeat of life. They’ve a right to march to their own tune and express themselves in their own way. We know this will upset many and provoke some undue hate, but that’s ultimately why a guide like this one is needed—people need to accept the fact that political and religious beliefs will be as varied and as diverse as the people who hold them. Learn to ignore and grow thicker skin. This is a part of growing up and being an adult, forgiving and forgetting the little things that upset you or make you mad. And, truthfully, people need to realize a life isn’t worth a fandom or a head canon. Move on with your life and shrug off the miniscule idiocies of the internet. ================================================= AFTERWORD In the end, it’s all down to you and how you act online. If you say or do the wrong thing, it can end your life and possibility to be hired. Leak too much information, and people can dox you and harass you offline. It all comes down to you and what you say and do—use common sense, think before you say or do anything online.

[automatismoateo]

Christianity has fucked me to hell and back (no pun intended) via /r/atheism

Submitted April 05, 2019 at 02:52PM by Aspenisbi (Via reddit http://bit.ly/2Z0AH4K) Christianity has fucked me to hell and back (no pun intended)

I'm not actually an atheist if I'm being honest, I fall more towards a spiritual/pagan agnostic. But anyways.

I live in Tennessee, right in the middle of the bible belt. There is, I shit you not, a church on every corner of every street. About 2/3 of these are southern Baptist and the rest are either Protestant, Lutheran, or Catholic. My parents aren't very religious, mostly because my mom was forced into Catholicism as a kid and my dad just fucking hates church.

My mom told me that when we first moved down here (I was 3 months old lolol) she met the neighbors who seemed nice, but when she said something like "Oh my God" she would get lectured that she "shouldnt be saying that at all, let alone around kids!" And how she took the lord's name in vain. My mom was also on a walk one day when a (fucking prick, absolute asshole) man shouted at her and said "Hey, come help me do this!" I think it was some sort of lawn work. When my mom pretty much said "I dont know who you are, fuck off" the guy came back with "Women are supposed to help do chores around the house, so come over here" to which my mom hastily left.

Now fast forward to when I'm in elementary/primary school. I know how to talk at this point, obviously, and I repeat the phrase "Oh my God" and the amount of kids who got on my ass for that is insane. I got yelled at by kids who were 6. What the fuck?? I was asked if I went to church in which I replied no, and was lectured by 6 year old on how I was going to hell if I didnt go to church and how I'd suffer if I didnt go to church. I was 6 fucking years old and not only did these kids tell me constantly I was gonna die, but that I'd eternally suffer in hell if I didnt repent? What's wrong with their parents? It got so bad I was scared to go to school and say the wrong things and I would end up getting badly bullied from what I remember. I even had parents suggest in both elementary school and middle school that I was going to hell if I didn't go to church.

Time skip to 3rd grade. I start hanging out with these girls who are HEAVILY Christian. There were about 5 girls I'm talking about here with 2 of those being in my immediate friend group at the time. We all went over to sleep at my friend's, we'll call her K, house. K and her parents are also very religious, prayer before each meal, church every Sunday no matter what kinda people. After dinner and shit we go down to the basement where we are all sleeping for the night. My two best friends at the time, A and S, were making fun of me for God knows what and K and her best friend were talking about something else. We ended up talking about Harry Potter, and K said "My mom doesn't let me read those, she says they're against Christianity." I was so confused?? I said "From what I've seen they're fine. Theres nothing remotely against God in the books" she shrugs it off and we end up talking about Christianity, and the question of "do you go to church" is brought up again. I say no again, although I did consider my self catholic at the time because my mom technically was. They end up crowding around me and telling me how terrible I am for bot going to church, how I'm going to die a horrible death and suffer for all eternity. It got to the point where they, and I'm seriously not kidding, they put a good 6 feet between me and them. I started crying obviously. It was so terrible. My friend S finally came over and gave me the whole, "I'm sorry OP, but you're our friend and we dont want you to go to hell. We cant hang out with someone who's going to hell." And this is when I made a decision to start going to church occasionally with A and S. I really tried. They even talked about baptizing me at one point, but in the end something didnt sit right.

In 6th grade I finally started to try one more time. I was 11 now and I was started to feel attraction to both girls and boys. I also didn't feel like a girl anymore, in fact I hated my feminine features and name and body. I started self harming and I was just so scared because I had researched what the LGBT community was. I saw what church goers did to these people. After maybe about 6 Wednesday sessions I stopped coming to church with them and flat out told them everything. I'm bisexual, I'm transgender, im an atheist, the whole shebang. They freaked out on me, calling me a sinner, a fake, an asshole for coming to church with them when I never meant it (which I really did, I really did try). I was heartbroken to lose my closest friends, but this was just the beginning. Word quickly spread in 7th grade, and even though I was planning on coming out in 7th grade with help of teachers, I wasnt the only person telling everyone. My old friends spread it like wildfire. Before I knew it I was sectioned off from everyone else. I recieved death threats through Instagram. These 2 kids made a Christian Instagram and tried to preach to me, and harrassed me more when I politely told them to leave me alone. I was called queer, tranny, faggot, every name in the book.

But I was free.

I was no longer held at the strings by people who couldnt think for themselves. I ended up breaking up with my girlfriend towards the end of 7th grade, which was good for both of us seeing as I was so unstable that I think I might have went too far in certain scenarios, which I profusely apologized for later on and we're now on decent regards. I dropped out of public school for online school for my 8th grade year (present) and I recently started Testosterone, which I'm almost 6 months on.

I'm finally free. And although I do get seriously triggered to the point of tears and panic attacks when I see things about the Pope, the church, etc, I can finally recover. Hearing stories in this subreddit is very important to me. I know that I'm not alone. I'm learning independence now and it's great. I'm trying to look for a job (although I must say not many places hire at 14) and I'm an A and B student again! It was scary, I did things I probably shouldnt have, but in the end I got out of it, I survived the bullying and death threats. I finally feel truly alive.

[viralhottopics]

How A Bible Belt Christian Found Herself Working For A Muslim Organization

Working for a Muslim organization enables me to both honor my Christian faith and my American citizenship. As American-Muslims continue to face Islamophobic rhetoric and increased bigotry and discriminatory policies from our President, I want to share why a woman raised in Bible Belt Florida ended up in a career standing alongside the Muslim community.

It started in college, when I learned about Dietrich Bonhoeffer. As a Lutheran priest in Nazi Germany, he dedicated his career, and ultimately his life, to standing against the mistreatment and murder of European Jews. He publicly condemned the actions and rhetoric of Hitler as it was inconsistent with his religious convictions of equality and acceptance.

In Bonhoeffer, I discovered the type of Christian I hoped to be. I dedicated myself then to standing alongside the persecuted, no matter what their ethnicity or faith tradition may be.Living out my faith as embodied by Bonhoeffer today in the United States means standing up for the religious freedom of all Americans, despite faith or ethnicity.

Americans who are Muslim face increasing hate crimes and rhetoric since the campaign and election of President Trump, including one of his first actions in office enacting a Muslim ban on immigrants and refugees from certain Muslim-majority countries. Any policies discriminating by religious identity violate not only our Constitution, but our values as Americans and should offend us all despite our own religious backgrounds.

Speaking out against anti-Muslim bigotry sits at the core of what it means for me to be a Christian. I find a radical message of solidarity, love and inclusion essential to Christianity and I cannot think of anything more Christ-like than standing with those who are being persecuted in our society.

Furthermore, protecting religious freedom is my patriotic duty, especially since my own ancestors were among those who boarded the Mayflower in 1620 in pursuit of religious freedom. The founders of our nation risked their lives, abandoned their property and left their friends and family behind so that they and their children could practice the religion of their choosing. They refused to be told how to pray and enshrined the freedom to exercise religious beliefs in our Constitution.

There is nothing more American than the right to practice our religious beliefs freely, and Im committed to defending this freedom for all who call this country their home, today, tomorrow and onwards.

Some politicians and pundits advocate throwing our nations religious freedom protections to the wind in the name of national security measures. Thats not just ethically wrong: its bad policy. Were stronger when we stand together as a nation of all faiths and backgrounds. Further, our national security should be rooted in evidence, rather than singling out an entire group of people based on their country of origin, skin color, or faith.

My passion for interfaith work and standing alongside the Muslim community has always been difficult for me to express, as people tend to give me strange looks and ask if my working for a Muslim organizations means that Ive converted to Islam. As the prejudice against the Muslim American community grows, the simpler it becomes for me to explain why I am passionate about engaging in interfaith work.

As I have developed strong relationships with Americans who are Muslim, it has been increasingly difficult to rationalize the amount of ignorance and hate these loving individuals have endured, as I have been met with nothing but love, patience and hospitality by the Muslim community. I cannot see myself working for any other cause that is more in line with my values, both as a Christian and as an American.

I hope my fellow Christians and Americans will take my testimony as a call to action in for their own communities. Im not suggesting you apply to work for a Muslim organization although I highly recommend it! Im asking you to join me in solidarity as simply as setting up an event between your church and a local mosque, create friendships across faith traditions or learn how to be an ally to the Muslim community.

Its an incredibly difficult time to be an American who is Muslim right now, and I pray my fellow Christians will see this and act accordingly.

To learn more about Islamic Networks Group, visit: https://ing.org/

For ways to help Muslim, Arab, and South Asian Americans and Refugees, visit: http://bit.ly/2kVQdKq

For ways to be an ally to Muslim Community, visit: http://bit.ly/2jXR5k4

Kate Chanceis the interfaith coordinator of Islamic Networks Group (ING), a national non-profit with affiliates in 20 states that counter prejudice and discrimination against American Muslims by teaching about their traditions and contributions in the context of Americas history and cultural diversity, while building relations between American Muslims and other groups.Katehas a Masters Degree in The Study of Religion from the University of Oxford, and BA in Psychology, Philosophy and Religion from Flagler College.

Read more: http://huff.to/2kW1QRc

from How A Bible Belt Christian Found Herself Working For A Muslim Organization