#like it's mini communion cups

[sunnycanwrite]

Wtf a box of communion just arrived on my porch

[yearabroadfordummies]

Totally serious guide to intercultural conversational routines

Newly found evidence shows British people split off from our human ancestors around a million years ago, evolving into homo cynicus. The brain of which is divided into two hemispheres: the left, which produces feelings of shame and self-loathing, and the right, which produces feelings of shame and self-loathing. /sarcasm

This had led to many unfortunate characteristics such as: a severe debilitating need to apologise (even for things clearly not our own fault), a lack of capability for direct communication, and a deep craving of orderly queues, to name a few. This could give the impression that we are a polite and well-mannered people, when really these are purely defence mechanisms for when we must venture out from the warm confines of our dwellings, leave our beloved cups of tea behind, and do the dreaded… social interaction. /s

^Excurb1a’s ‘England a beginner’s guide: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KySFp0w7-hE&t=28s

Above: Highly classified records of the evolutionary split, retrieved personally for use in this blog from maximum security compartment below the crown jewels in the Tower of London. /s

The rest of the world is unaware of this fact of human evolutionary history, and therefore may find what we see as ‘normal interaction’ slightly odd, or even rude, to the absolute dismay of us politeness fiends. /s This brings us to the purpose of this post; to spread some awareness of different conversational and politeness norms across cultures, to prepare you for your year abroad (aside from leaking highly classified government documents)!

‘Phatic communion’, such as the British ‘you alright?’, is an example of a conversational routine. In true homo cynicus fashion, a perfectly acceptable response is to seemingly completely ignore the ‘question’ with an ‘alright’ in return. Really, this example acts as a greeting, and not a question at all, and we would be pretty taken aback if someone responded with a long list of their day-to-day struggles. These phrases, or mini conversational routines, are very useful for interaction abroad and are rarely taught in language classes, so it’s a great idea to be aware of some from the place you’re off to. For example, in Mandarin, ’chī le ma?’ meaning, ‘have you eaten?’, is not an invitation to get lunch, but a greeting. Saved you some potential embarrassment there.

Small talk also comes under phatic communion and serves a more social than informational purpose. However, there are different small talk norms across cultures. For us, it’s usually pretty devoid of actual meaning and by the fifth ‘weather’s nice, isn’t it?’ of the day, we’re left wondering why we even bother at all. One study (Beal, 1992) looked at small talk between French and Australian employees. When asked ‘how was your weekend?’ the Australian employees responded very briefly, (quite like the small talk habits of the homo cynicus) whilst the French employees responded in much more detail. Both types of responses were evaluated as rude by co-workers of the opposite group: the Australians thought the longer answer to their question showed their French co-workers being ‘self-centred’ and ‘insensitive to other people’, while the French employees thought the brief answer showed ‘indifference’ and ‘lack of sincerity’.

The take-away from this is you should be aware of different attitudes to small talk across cultures and that sometimes, doing what we think is the norm can be interpreted as the opposite or impolite. With this in mind you can adjust the level of detail and self-disclosure you give in these conversational routines, and be more open minded in evaluating responses you weren’t expecting.

[sadachmesarthim]

towers for your honeycomb chapter 3: no i do not condone underage drinking i just think it's a good plot devic-

content: the boys have One Beer Each™, peter both sets and completely ignores his own boundaries, author remembers the communion chapter from "how to read literature like a professor" and bastardizes it, both of them have anxiety but neither say anything about it, smoking

words: 2k     song: outskirts of paradise - bad suns     

Looking Tony in the eye was like staring at the sun. Peter could barely hold his gaze, always finding an excuse to turn away.

He was sat in front of the other man a few weeks later, sharing drinks and pizza at a new brewery down the road. It’d cost him his liquor license, and potentially a clean record, if anyone found out, but Richie (their most beloved regular) offered to let the pair try the latest house brew if they ever swung through.

Peter wasn’t one for beer, but he’d accepted Tony’s invite anyway.

He wasn’t entirely sure why. Since their fight, they’d worked all of maybe three hours together. No other shifts, they avoided each other at meetings, and neither were particularly willing to reach out off the clock and apologize.

It was like the world was screaming at them to stay away from each other.

Peter wasn’t sure he wanted to listen.

After his shift that morning, Peter found Tony outside, leaning up against the hood of his car & working through his second cigarette. He drummed on the side of his thigh, keeping his empty hand busy as he waited for Peter to come out. Tony jumped at the sight of him, tossing the half finished cig down a storm drain.

“You know those lead straight to the ocean, right?” There was more amusement than anger behind his words. Peter wasn’t entirely sure what Tony was up to, but he was too tired to start shit. He crossed to the passenger side of his car, tossing his belongings to the floor.

“Even if it didn’t go through the city’s filtration system – fuck the fish.” Peter rolled his eyes. Funny as he was, Tony always had to be contradictory.

“Don’t you have, like, a school of them on your shoulder?” Tony’s normally visible salmon tattoos were safely tucked away behind a denim jacket Peter’d never seen before.

“Irrelevant.” Peter rounded the hood and turned, facing the other man. “Did you need something or were you just here to argue about my town’s plumbing system?” He huffed the words out, arms crossing in front of his chest expectantly.

“I, uh…” He suddenly went silent. The ground crunched under Tony’s feet, gravel scraping asphalt under his shoes. They were a rattier pair he owned – more tape than sole, oil staining the canvas.

“I wanted to know if you’d come to lunch with me. Today. Like, right now?” He hesitated at the last few words, like he wasn’t sure he could say them out loud. “I, uh. I’m pretty sure I have some things to say to you, and Richie’s got some good stuff waiting for us at the Pub House…”

Peter was astounded. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Tony?” My Tony? What? “I- why should I trust you? I’m sure as hell not getting in a car with you.”

Tony’s face fell. A bit of- what, disappointment? flew across his face. Peter would’ve missed it had he not been staring, impatient for his answer. Tony, floundering at the rejection, couldn’t give him one.

“Okay, maybe- how about this. I’ll think about it. Give me five minutes to go wash up and I’ll be back.” He turned & headed inside, not waiting for a response.

The cool water felt good against his burning, salt-stained cheeks. Peter hadn’t realized just how tired he was – opens had always taken it out of him, and the early spring temperatures didn’t always prevent the stand from turning into a heater during rush hour.

The soap in the stand was always too fragrant for his taste, but it did the job – it felt good to wash away the day’s work and come back looking like a new man. He smoothed his eyebrows down and dried himself off, wetting his hair a bit as he finished.

He wound up with grind in it again, brushing it out with a comb he found in the first aid kit. One of these days he was going to have to start wearing hats to work. Shampooing his hair every single day was taking its toll on his curls, and he wasn’t a fan of burnt coffee smell.

Stepping back, he squinted into the warped mirror in front of him. Much better.

Back outside, Tony’d lit up his third cigarette of the day. The shakes’d largely abandoned him, allowing his anxiety to drift inward. The sticks only did so much – he missed the higher, stronger hit of his Suorin, but he was trying to quit (ironically enough).

He was actually able to finish this one by the time Peter made his way back outside, looking significantly better without $5 worth of product on his face.

“Okay, some rules.” He came up, stopping just short of Tony. “You’re paying for both of us. We leave whenever I want, without complaint. We go straight there and come straight back - it’s eight blocks, I don’t want any bullshit scenic routes.” His tone was firm – something Tony’d never encountered with him before. 

“Yes. Yes, anything. Okay.” 

Tony’s car was a lot nicer than Peter anticipated. He’d recently sold his truck, swapping it for a silver Mini Cooper instead. It was a pretty little thing, just up his alley.

It was also fucking obnoxious. He’d bought it with a modified exhaust and had plans to make it even louder. You could almost always hear him coming, little pop pop pops audible for quite a ways. 

It was… less clean than Peter expected. Tony was always so well put together, so well-maintained - seeing stray gum wrappers and drink cups littered around the interior was almost jarring. He didn’t realize he was staring until Tony spoke up. 

“She’s nice, isn’t she?” Peter nodded. He silently took in his new surroundings, nerves on fire. He’d never done well around strangers, in new places. His mind’d always screamed at him, danger unsafe bad run, overriding his sensibilities.

“Hey, are you good? I can take you back if you need.” They’d barely left the Outback parking lot. 

“No- no, I think I’ll be okay. Just… not where I thought I’d end up when I woke up today, y’know?” Peter tried to laugh it off, but he’d always been pretty transparent. 

Tony turned a corner, cutting back into the lot they just came from and turning the car off. “Seriously, Peter. If you don’t want to come to lunch with me just say so. I’ll take you back to your car and we can pretend it never happened.” Okay, seriously, who the fuck is this guy and what did he do with Tony?

“No, I- I think I’m okay. Seriously. Let’s just go and get it over with - I kinda want to hear you grovel anyway.” He settled further into his seat, failing to shake away the agitation. 

The flatbread was actually really good. It was more of a hipster take on pizza - white sauce and pearl onions definitely making it stand out - but it wasn’t a bad lunch by any means. 

The beer definitely wasn’t Peter’s favorite. He was barely sipping by, trying hard to keep a straight face as he swallowed. Damn Richie anyway. 

It’d started off awkward enough - discussing where to sit, small talk about their week, the weather. It felt more like a bad first date than an apology, but- 

“I really am sorry. For what happened in the fridge.” 

Oh. 

“Okay. Why?” Peter tightened the hand around his glass, bracing for Tony’s next words. 

“I.. I was kind of an asshole when I was younger, too. I figured I could make a fresh start here with a brand new town of people that didn’t know or assume anything about me.

“I was doing okay for a little while, too, but I don’t know man I just.. something happened and I just- I don’t know why I’m a dick to you. But I’m trying not to be. This is that, like, ‘first step’, I guess?” Peter nodded along, attentive. 

"So, I don't know. I'm sorry for being a dick to you at work. I'm sorry for being a dick to the girls. I shouldn't yell at you or drag your family into this bullshit - I'm sorry, Peter."

There it was again, that name. His first fucking name. 

“I- thank you, Tony. It’s a start, and I certainly haven’t forgiven you, but… thank you. Seriously.” Tony sighed, shoulders visibly relaxing. Peter let go of his glass and wiped it off, standing and walking around to Tony’s side of the table. 

“Okay then, time for a do-over! Hi, I’m Peter Parker. I’m 19 and I’ve worked at Outback North Espresso for a little over 9 months. What’s your name?” He stuck his hand out, waiting for Tony to make the next move.  

Tony laughed, pushing his chair back and standing to meet the other teen. “Okay, uh, I’m Tony Stark, I’m 18, and I’ve worked at Outback for almost 6. Nice to re-meet you, Peter.” He shook Peter’s hand, awestruck at just how soft it was. He quickly steeled his face and sat back down, releasing Peter and allowing him to do the same. 

Once he was sat back down at his side, Peter looked up, confused. “Wait, you’re still 18?” 

Tony laughed. “Not for long. My birthday’s at the end of next month.” 

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m older than you!” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “That’s - it’s literally three months, that barely counts.” 

Their debate lasted well into the afternoon, alongside several other discussions. Peter’s childhood in Richland, and what it was like growing up there. What Federal Way was like, and why Tony left. Peter could tell he was remaining intentionally vague, but didn’t push it. 

Their beers were warm and the pizza was long gone by the time they abandoned their table. Tony guided him out the back, hand high on his arm. 

Once they were back in the car, Peter’s anxiety returned. It was like he’d spent the last few hours speaking to a completely different person, and now that he was sitting mere inches from Tony… 

He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t. He wasn’t… sure, exactly. What it was. 

Tony spoke up when he noticed the tension in his passenger seat. 

“Hey, we’ll get you back to your car soon, I promise. Eight blocks, remember?” His right hand made its way to Peter’s knee, digging soft circles into the denim. Just like in the fridge.

“Please don’t- don’t touch me. Without asking.” It came out harsher than intended. 

“Okay, all good. No worries. We’re like, two minutes away.” Tony eased off the clutch, turning right out of the parking lot and onto the road. The windows rolled down and Peter let his head fall back in relief. Fresh air always helped him clear his head. 

It really was a short drive - right turn, left turn, right turn - and they were back at Peter’s car. The doors unlocked, and he was out in an instant. A bit too fast to be respectful, if he was being honest, but he knew he needed out. Tony stopped him before he was able to get in his car. 

“Hey, for real. Thank you for today. I’m sorry if it was too much.” 

Peter looked over and down to meet his eyes. “I- yeah, of course. No, yeah, thank you. For the apology. I’m sorry I freaked out on you. But no this- it was good. Yeah. Thank you, Tony.” 

He turned, unlocking the door and closing it before either could say anything else. After turning the key he sped off, without throwing even a glance behind him. 

Tony watched as Peter peeled away, reaching for the box of Pall Malls in his cupholder. He lit one, shifting into first and heading in the opposite direction. 

Not bad. Not good, but not bad. 

lmk if u want on or off the tags list!

@snowstark @kaleidoscopeluli @parkerrbitch @carelessannie​ @bluestarker​ @longlivestarker​ 

[harry-styles-sunflower]

Having your baby

hello beautiful people! here’s a little oneshot/blurb. It’s you and Harry finding out your pregnant, based off my dream last night lol. 

Word Count: 1.2k :) 

~~~

The priest was halfway through with his homily when you started feeling lightheaded. It was hot and you felt your hands become clammy. It was your niece's communion and you and Harry were her godparents so you had the responsibility of being there. Harry was sitting next to you trying to not fall asleep. You felt your breakfast slowly start making its way back up. You got up and walked over Harry's legs and practically ran to the back of the church. The bathroom door was shut meaning it was occupied so you ran out and puked all over the bushes. Harry running after you finally catches up and rubs your back.

"You okay love?" he looked away for a second. He wasn't good with seeing you sick, it hurt him. But he wouldn't leave your side.

"Water, I need water." you put your hands on the railing you were leaning over and tried to focus on the cool breeze. Harry went back inside and grabbed you a cup of water from the small water cooler dispenser. He brought it back to you and you grabbed it chugging it in one big gulp. You looked at your wedding ring as you drank it. Remembering the day briefly as you stood on these steps.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks as he put his hand on your lower back.

"Yeah, I need more air though, it's so hot." you look up at him. He looked so good. He was wearing a white dress shirt, his tattoos peeking through. His cross necklace moving with each movement. His black slacks hugging his ass perfectly. He had gotten a haircut the day before and he looked so domestic.

"I'm staying here with you," he says with no room for argument.

"Okay," you answer. You look around and feel nauseous again. This time it was from nerves. You needed to tell Harry you were one week late. You were going to go to the pharmacy tomorrow but now he was bound to ask why you thought you threw up.

"Was it the eggs? Too runny this morning?" he ran his fingers through your hair but careful to not run them through your lightly hair sprayed curls. You leaned your head against his chest, nervous to look at him.

"I'm a week late Har," you couldn't keep it inside any longer. It wasn't that you were trying but you two also weren't preventing it from happening. He pulled you in closer against him and he kissed your head.

"Yeah? Okay. So do you think…?" he wandered off.

"Maybe," you said calmly.

"Okay," he fidgeted with his fingers with his arms still wrapped around you.

"Harry?" you looked up and you saw his eyes were red and watery. You got off from him but he pulled you back in closer. "What's wrong?"

"I'm so happy but I don’t know if I should contain it," he smiled.

"Happy tears? Don’t contain it. Come here," you opened your arms. He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up and spun you around.

"Harry, I'm going to throw up if you do that again." you put your hand over your mouth.

"Oh shit, sorry love," he smiled. He cupped your face and placed kisses all over you.

"Can we walk to the pharmacy?" he asked excitedly.

"Harry, the communion." you point to inside the church.

"I can't look at your parents with this big news. Especially your dad." he was grinning widely. Harry and your dad were practically best friends. When you started dating Harry would come over and say hi to your dad before saying hi to you.

"We'll watch her do it from back here and then grab our stuff and say we have a house emergency or something." you told him.

"Okay," he said.

And that’s what you did, ignoring the looks your family gave you as you left. You two drove to the nearest Walgreens and Harry decided it was best to buy one from each brand. Pregnancy tests were expensive but he was excited. He bought some baby socks at the same time because 'Why not?' he shrugged. You just laughed and let him be. You checked out and Harry nearly ran to the car.

"Where are you going to pee?" he asked.

"Home?" you questioned?

"You can't pee right now?" he was looking at you with a serious face.

"In your car?" you laughed.

"No! In the McDonald's down the road or something," he was so excited he wasn't thinking completely straight.

"Harry, you want me to tell you I'm having your baby in a McDonald's?" you answered and he looked at you as if a lightbulb lit up in his head.

"Home it is." he drove you two home and you both went to the bathroom. He was staring at you intently waiting.

"Har, I don’t know if I can do it with you looking at me like that," you laughed,

"C'mon you do it every morning," he sighed.

"Not with you looking at me like that," you kept chuckling. He was amusing. He looked at you with a serious face, and arms crossed.

"Okay okay, pass me the test, I feel something," he gave you the test in an instant and you peed. It was the digital one. You put the top on and placed it carefully on the counter. You wiped and washed your hands. Harry pulled you in for a hug and swayed back and forth leaning on one leg.

"I'm excited. If it says no can we try right now?" he asked grinning down at you.

"Whatever it says, I want to right now," you leaned up and kissed his neck. He swallowed and pressed his hands flat against your ass and gave it a good squeeze.

"I don’t think I can wait to tell people if its positive tho- Y/n it stopped blinking. I can’t read it from here." he started sweating.

"Alright, come on," you grabbed his hand, "We'll look at it together," you both leaned over and looked at the counter.

Pregnant

Harry picked you up and spun you around. You both laughed and giggled. You held his face in your hands and kissed him. You both had happy tears running down your face. He put you down and got his knees and kissed your stomach.

"Hi, I'm dad," he nosed at your stomach. You giggled and put your hands in his hair.

"Har, he might not even have ears yet," you laughed.

"He?" he got up on his feet and pulled you in close. You shrugged and smiled at him.

"I don’t know, I'd like a mini version of you," you kissed him. He hummed into the kiss and squeezed you even closer to him. He always wanted you close to him, so close that it was like he wanted you to evaporate into him.

"Let's go please? I want to tell your whole family," he smiled.

"I hope they have your dimples," you smiled up at him.

"Me too, c'mon let's go," he pulled you by your hand. You saw where the bag from Walgreens was on your kitchen counter and you stopped there. Harry looked behind him to find you pulling out the socks from the bag.

"Let's use these to tell them?" he nodded and wrapped his arms around you again and kissed you the same way he kissed you the day you said 'I do'.

(Feedback is welcomed!) 

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Ghosts and Guns (4/23/2021)

Alastor a.k.a. Leal @usedhearts and Alastor a.k.a. Astor talk about their experiences seeing ghosts when they were alive, which is a great conversation.

And then they talk about how Astor keeps getting stuck third-wheeling with Leal and Alastor a.k.a. Alexa, which is not a great conversation.

usedhearts

He'd popped around a couple places in the hotel, looking for Astor, and finally found him. Leal stepped out of the shadows into the mini makeshift greenhouse.

"You remember when we talked about ghosts? Back when you taught me about the internet? I've been thinking about that lately!" Yes, no preamble, no hello, just straight into it without announcing himself. But he DOES have two thermoses in his hands, wonder what's in there. Probably something for Astor.

"I brought soup!" Definitely something for Astor.

dontasktheradiodemon

"Oh, delicious!" He held out a hand for a thermos. Who needs a preamble? Clearly this show has been broadcasting all day and he only just tuned into the middle.

Astor himself had been in the turned-sideways ship annexed onto the hotel, where he's been keeping his garden: a grand total of two okra plants and one bell pepper plants. They really don't need a whole lot of fussing at, but he feels neglectful if he doesn't do a bit of fussing anyway.

But it certainly left him time to entertain a guest. "Yes, I vaguely recall! Why?" He opened his thermos to inspect the soup.

usedhearts

Upon inspection he'd find Creole style Yakamein soup, with extra meat. Leal summoned himself a chair, settling into it. He gave his own soup a sip before he started.

"You told me abou your experiences with spirits when you were young and it got me reexamining some of my childhood and I think I may have been seeing ghosts before I was haunted personally!"

dontasktheradiodemon

Ooh, delicious. He sipped at it like it was just a cup of coffee.

"Really!" His brows went up. He wasn't surprised to learn his alternate was more sensitive to spirits than previously thought, but he *was* surprised his alternate was figuring it out so long after the fact. "Well, do tell me about them!"

usedhearts

"I think the reason I never noticed was because I would _see_ them but with my attention span, I wouldn't think anything strange about it. I remember a few incidents clearly though-- like this one time when I was out in the bayou when I was a child, I came across a gentleman who I now know was wearing a confederate uniform. He was just staring off into space. I asked him if he was alright and he didn't respond-- so I just turned and left."

Leal shrugged, taking another sip of his soup. "The things children will overlook, huh?"

dontasktheradiodemon

“The man lost his cause and has been dredging the bayou for it ever since.” He scoffed derisively. “Now, that’s interesting, though! I only rarely ever saw them! I almost always heard them—that was usually how I could tell the living from the dead, I didn’t see them.”

usedhearts

"Yes, that's why I think I mistook them for living people! All the times I remember, before I was being haunted personally, they never spoke. I only saw them." He  shrugged.

"Perhaps that's one of the key differences between us, the way we experienced hauntings."

dontasktheradiodemon

"Perhaps so!" He paused thoughtfully. "Or maybe you were also surrounded by invisible ghosts you couldn't hear and I was surrounded by silent ghosts I couldn't see? Maybe we both had twice as many ghosts as we thought we did! Hah!"

It wasn't easy to drink noodles out of a thermos, but by god he was finding a way. "Did they ever approach you? Interact with you?"

usedhearts

"Hmm..." His head tilted and he took another sip of his soup-- sluuurp there goes a noodle of his own.

"There was one time a woman approached me, and seemed to be trying to ask me something, but she had no voice. I tried to help her and I ran to get a pen and paper, but when I returned she was gone."

dontasktheradiodemon

"Only once? Huh. The rest must have realized you wouldn't be much help to them." Huff. "I wonder if she's one I ever met. Did she look like she might be a relative?"

usedhearts

"Only once that I recall so far, who knows what else my memory will dredge up!" Leal laughed, then tilted his head. "She did look vaguely like Maman, but there were a lot of women in the neighborhood that looked vaguely like Maman, so..." He shrugged.

"Now I'm wondering if I saw any during the war-- one would think that would be a hotspot for hauntings, hm?"

dontasktheradiodemon

"Oh, was it ever! I tried to talk a couple of fellows into spying on Jerry and reporting back! They said they were officially off-duty and they weren't going to fight any German ghosts for me." He laughed. It was the laugh of somebody who had taught himself through deliberate effort to find this funny.

"I had a friend named Joseph who died on the first day of shelling. He stuck it out the week with me before moving on. Now that was a dependable pal."

usedhearts

That caught him off guard, and Leal blinked. "Wait, Joey? Didn't he die on the last day of shelling?"

He was a little shocked that they'd known, possibly, the same man. But they _were_ the same person, he really shouldn't be surprised. "You know, I probably saw tons but never registered it, because anyone covered in blood and staring into a middle distance would've just looked shell shocked to me!"

dontasktheradiodemon

Astor gave him a surprised look. "Joey Landry? Never stopped talking about his fiancée what's-her-name, started with a D? No. First day. At least, in my spin on things." But if Leal knew who he was talking about, Astor doubted it had been different.

"That really was what it was like. I heard so many screams I couldn't locate, I never knew if I was hearing the dying or the dead. Sometimes I had to ask if anyone else heard that scream too, and they'd ask, 'which one?' It's the only time I ever wished I couldn't hear spirits."

usedhearts

Leal snapped his fingers, his brows shooting up as he pointed at Astor. "Yes! That's him, the very one! Joey Landry with the fiancée! Oh, always felt for that poor girl after he died....you SURE it was the first day?"

He stroked his chin as he thought. "I saw him around but he got real quiet after the first day....didn't jabber anymore. I just thought he was shell shocked at the time, not shell _dead_. But then he disappeared."

Leal took a breath and then another sip of his soup. "You know....I think you're right."

dontasktheradiodemon

Astor nodded. Yes, he was sure it was the first day. “He spent the next week grieving for himself. He made me write down a whole list of things he wanted me to do on his behalf. I think I only did three or four of them. He dictated a letter to his girl, I made sure she got that.”

usedhearts

Leal's smile tightened and he looked down, arms crossing over his chest. His thermos floated next to him, as if he never let it go.

"Well, that puts a whole new spin on things. I didn't do anything for him, I didn't even know he was dead until he disappeared at the end of the week. But now I definitely know that I saw ghosts on the front. A lot of them. Maybe I'd repressed some of it before this, but I sure do remember it now."

dontasktheradiodemon

“Well, you didn’t do anything, but on the other hand you didn’t promise him a dozen things and then break three-fourths of your promise, did you?” He laughed ruefully. “Did you repress it or did you just not understand it? Everyone saw hellish things out there, after all—if you don’t have experience with ghosts, how do you sort them out from the rest? I imagine most times they looked better than their corpses.”

usedhearts

"Exactly-- I saw so much horrible shit, how was I to sort through it to find that some of the shit was actually from cows instead of pigs?" That was a messy metaphor, but it had been a messy time.

"I think I'm only able to sort through it now, some hundred years after the fact, because so much time has passed." He took his thermos back from the air and took another drink of soup. That helped, good food always did.

"I think I fired on some German ghosts, too. I remember a couple shots that I _knew_ were dead on, but there wasn't confirmed hits...."

dontasktheradiodemon

He let out a genuine laugh. “Oh! Those fellows were having the worst time out of anyone! Imagine being one of those boys: not only are you on the frontlines, not only are you *dead,* but some stubborn doughboy is *still* shooting at you! Some days you just can’t catch a break!”

usedhearts

Astor's laugh made him laugh too, a surprised noise at first, and then a few more natural noises. "Oh, yes, that would be terrible wouldn't it? They think they're out of it and then ZOOM! There's a bullet whizzing through their ghost-head!"

dontasktheradiodemon

“Just when they start thinking, ‘Well, at least it can’t get any worse’...!”

His laughter slowly petered out. “It’s a pity you didn’t get the nice side of seeing spirits. I’m surprised Ma didn’t raise you with that.”

usedhearts

"Well, it was hardly her fault-- Catholic school does that to a boy." He snorted and shook his head.

"After a year of that, I didn't want to hear anything about _anything_ spiritual. She did teach me things, but I made it clear that I didn't want to hear about that. She, being the loving mother she was, agreed to not talk about it with me." He sighed.

"Nowadays, I wish I had let her."

dontasktheradiodemon

He nodded deeply. “That’s right, I remember you mentioned that. Funny, the big differences little changes can make. Spirits were just a fact of my life long before I started school. Even if I *had* been turned off of religion like you—well, what does religion have to do with the fact that great-grandma sang to me when I couldn’t sleep, or that my father’s kin thought my French sounded funny and old-fashioned because in between visits I practiced with a spirit? To me, the difference between a ghost and the Holy Ghost was as big as the difference between a bite of flesh and a communion wafer. But would that have been the case if I’d only seen them instead of hearing them?” He shrugged.

usedhearts

Leal nodded in turn. "See, I never had that. No one but Maman sang to me, no phantom voices talking French. I had things a child's mind wrote off as 'weird but whatever'. It just goes to show that maybe if I _had_ heard them, I might've trod a path closer to yours."

He sighed, finishing off the last of his soup. The thermos disappeared into a portal as his head cocked.

"I don't think I've shown you the rifle, have I? Not after our...tense chat. Here." He flared a bit of magic, and pushed it into the ring hidden beneath his glove, and-- poof! There it was, a lovely, alien, magic sniper rifle. He held it out to Astor. "Here, hold it, it's got a good weight."

dontasktheradiodemon

Tense chat. His smile wilted slightly. Right. He’d nearly forgotten all about that.

All the same, he accepted the rifle. “Well, now, that’s an interesting contraption, isn’t it?” He hefted it up. “This is one of those ones built to shoot people a mile away, isn’t it?”

usedhearts

Leal noticed that wilt. He made a note of it. "I haven't tried firing it THAT far but it does get good distance! The way you fire is that you charge it up with your magic and then just shoot it out! Makes reloading a hell of a lot easier."

He took a breath. "And, apparently, you _can_ make it non-lethal. I didn't know that at the time, and my magic tends to make the 'bullets' rather explosive. Hence, why I didn't want to fire it at you."

Another breath. "I'm sorry, again, for not being clearer about that. I didn't mean to muck things up, it all just happened so fast. Have you spoken to Alexa about it?"

dontasktheradiodemon

“We’ve talked.” He offered the rifle back. “Magically charged. What do you know, a gun that makes the gunman do all the hard work! Still, interesting concept for a magical focus. And I’m sure you can do some interesting tricks with the ‘bullets’ that way.”

usedhearts

That didn't offer Leal much in the way of _what_ they talked about. "Talked like our talk that happened right after, or a talk like we're talking _now_?" Might as well ask for clarification.

"Yes! I've got the 'explode on contact' thing down, I've been trying to see what else I can do with them." He took the gun back and dismissed it back to the ring.

"I also wanted to apologize if Alexa and I have made you feel...awkward, when around us."

dontasktheradiodemon

“We talked about it the day of.” And Astor didn’t intend to offer Leal much in the way of what they talked about. It wasn’t his business to share if their alternate hadn’t shared it.

His smile thinned further. “Yes, well. Unless being a pest is my goal, I don’t particularly enjoy feeling like my presence is the only thing preventing my current companions from doing whatever it is they’d rather be doing.”

usedhearts

He glanced down, his own smile thinning, his hands folding in his lap. "I know it was never _my_ intent to make you feel like that. And I doubt it was Alexa's either."

Leal took another deep breath. "I like having you around, I like being around you, you're my friend, and Alexa and I should have thought about that before....thermoregulating around you like we do. We're an odd bunch, us Alastors, but I think _that's_ probably a little odd to see, even from us." He laughed humorlessly.

dontasktheradiodemon

A long, slow blink. “‘Thermoregulating’?” Let’s just get that out of the way first.

usedhearts

Oh. Yes, there was that. He hadn't explained it yet, had he?

"I run hot, Alexa is always cold. When we....." God, he didn't want to say the word. "_Cuddle_, it evens us both out. It's nice."

dontasktheradiodemon

Another, slower blink. “And... short sleeves and long johns weren’t solutions you thought to explore first?”

usedhearts

At that, Leal rolled his eyes. "Why do you think I toss off my coat at the drop of a hat? It's not just that, it's...." He huffed a bit.

"You know that feeling, when someone touches you and your skin wants to jump ship? With Alexa, there is no _that_ feeling, at all. It's just....it's nice." And he crossed his arms again. Don't mind that blush dusting his cheeks, he's not embarrassed at all.

dontasktheradiodemon

“So, the ‘thermoregulating’ bit is a convenient excuse to cuddle without openly admitting that you want to cuddle.” He spread his hands and shrugged. “It’s actually very obvious that what you’re doing is cuddling. There’s... I’m afraid there’s really no ambiguity.”

usedhearts

"It's more an excuse for cuddling and the reason we started cuddling in the first place. But that's what we're calling it, our Thing, thermoregulating."

He took a breath. "We've both agreed to stop doing it around others, though. It was--" He gave a brief nod toward Astor. "Making things awkward and neither of us want that. So next time all of us are in a room together, me and he will be on our best behavior, I swear." He held up his hand, the other over his heart.

dontasktheradiodemon

Their *Thing.* Astor nodded. “Well, I’d hate to impose on your Thing! Particularly if this means that you’ll be spending dinner parties wishing you were somewhere else where you felt free to cuddle?”

usedhearts

"No, it's not--" Leal took a breath again. "You're not imposing on us, Alastor. Both of us _like_ spending time with you. We just....got preoccupied. It's our fault, not yours."

dontasktheradiodemon

A nod. “All right.” Like he doesn’t quite buy it. “Whatever you two feel is appropriate.”

usedhearts

Leal stated at him, eyes narrowed just a tad.

"Are we...okay? Do you want to, I don't know, share your feelings, or anything?"

dontasktheradiodemon

His brows knit. “*Share* my *feelings*—? Who in the world have you been talking to?” That was some therapist shit right there. “You’re still invited to the holiday potlucks, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

usedhearts

Oh look at that, the blush is getting worse, his smile twitching.

"Good, good. I'm going to still send you fresh seafood and bug you, too, you know. We're still _friends_."

dontasktheradiodemon

Astor studied his alternate’s face critically. What *was* all this?

He’d always taken it as an unspoken given amongst alternates that getting cagey meant *back off.* They were entertainers, not journalists. If an interviewee balks at a question, a good talk show host redirects the conversation to something more free-flowing that the audience can enjoy; he doesn’t prod deeper and drag out more tight-lipped answers while the audience loses interest. A half-assed answer *is* an answer: it says *change course.*

And any alternate of Alastor’s ought to know that. So why was Leal pushing about Astor’s *feelings*?

Neutrally, he asked, “Would you like to share *yours*?”

usedhearts

Leal's brow furrowed-- he hadn't been expecting that. Share _his_ feelings? There was nothing in the world he wanted to do _less_. He just wanted to be sure that things were alright between him and Astor-- maybe Val was rubbing off on him.

"Not particularly, no," He said, giving a wry chuckle.

"I just...want you to be reassured that you don't have to--" He shrugged. "-- sit out or anything when I invite others into shenanigans. I'll be sure to be clearer about things in the future."

dontasktheradiodemon

He gave Leal a meaningful look—yeah, well, there you go, nobody wants to talk about their feelings.

"Duly noted." Noted and discarded. He couldn't imagine attempting that again.

usedhearts

"Good." He took a breath and stood, his chair disappearing.

"Then I think I'll be on my way. If I remember more ghost encounters I'll be sure to let you know."

dontasktheradiodemon

"Do! I'd be interested to hear more about your experiences." Finally back to a safe topic—but he feared the damage was done.

"Oh! Do you want your—?" Alastor held out the thermos he'd been drinking. About a quarter of the soup was left.

usedhearts

Leal held up his hand, shaking his head. "Oh no! You keep that, it's fine."

Leal gave a little nod. "So long, Alastor! Until next time!" And he melded back into the shadows whence he came.

dontasktheradiodemon

"And to you, Alastor." He tipped his thermos to Leal.

And then he was alone. He sighed and sipped at his soup. He had the sinking feeling that could have gone better.

[taehyungsgrowl]

hey idk how the scenario would work out but i wanna tease hawthorne michael in a school girl outfit 🥵 he’d be SO cuteeeee

Okay so I wasn’t sure if you meant reader in a school girl outfit or Michael. So, I’m going for reader but if you wanted Michael in a skirt HMU lmfao. Also, here’s my fic for Duncan feat. school girl outfit as a shameless plug. 

Warnings: mentions of religion, slight choking, mention of spanking, mind reading (?), dirty talk, finger sucking, hair pulling, fingering, sex, cum play, and Michael spits in readers mouth (not in that order)

I’d like to build this scenario into the Catholic School AU Verse we’ve talked about before. I’m a religion kink hoe and not very sorry about it. Fuckboy Michael in Catholic School:

–

Day after day Michael saw little miss Y/N on her knees, hands pressed together in prayer - the perfect imagine of innocence. He almost scoffed at how untrue that was. If only the priest that delicately placed the communion bread on her sinful tongue knew what it was doing the night before. 

***

Michael sat alone in the library attempting to study what he could. He fucking hated the hypocrisy of being at a catholic school of all places. But what could he do. 

Someone stood at his side, casting a shadow over his blank piece of paper. She shimmied her legs, antsy for Michael to look up at her. Antsy for his attention. His blue eyes looked to his side and came face to face with a pair of legs in a mini skirt that brushed against her thighs. 

So maybe he didn’t hate everything about catholic school. Of all the little angels that pranced around out of dress code, Y/N was his favorite. She always made it a point to show him how devout she was. 

Wandering his gaze up her legs, he was met with her knowing smile. “Hi, Michael.” she cocked her head to the side to get a look at his blank paper. 

Michael almost rolled his eyes at her little game. They’d been dancing this dance for too long. He reached out for her hand, holding her in place by her wrist. “Hi, Y/N,” he tried to mimic the same feigned innocence in her tone. 

“Need some help?” she maintained her focus, despite his hypnotizing stare, “It’s pretty hard.” she played coy.

“Oh, it will be.” he chuckled, squeezing his hand around her wrist. Her free hand grazed over her chest, toying with the buttons of her crisp white shirt. 

“We can alway go back to your dorm for some one on one..” making sure no one saw, she undid the top button of her blouse, exposing a bit of lace from her bra. 

“Come on,” he nodded his head towards the door, gathering his stuff. He followed behind her, his focus on the way she swayed her hips from side to side with each step she took. 

Y/N looked around his room. It was neater than she expected; most boys around here had a clutter of clothes thrown all over the ground or left overs piling up on their desks. However, there was nothing out of place in Michaels. His desk was cleared off, bed neatly made, drawers closed shut. The only indication of anyone staying in the room was the faint smell of weed and the burned white pillar candles that he burned by his window. 

She watched as Michael locked the door behind him. He was perfect. She remembers gossiping about him with her friends when he first transferred from Hawthorne. All the hushed whispers about him looking like someone out of a  renaissance painting like the ones that hung in the school were only a few of what the girls (and boys) thought about him. 

Michael could be a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. He didn’t need magic to tell him how people felt about him. Especially Y/N. Her thoughts were the loudest among all the other sinners. 

“Something tells me that little skirt of yours is gonna get you in a lot of trouble.” he flashed his teeth in a knowing smile, kicking his chair back and taking a seat. He looked her up and down with no intention to mask where his thoughts were. 

“Sister Kathy already punished me for it.” she pouted as she advanced towards him. Without warning, she swung one of her legs on to his lap, carelessly straddling him. 

Oh. Needier than Michael originally thought. 

“She said I’m drawing all kinds of bad attention.” She hooked her arms around his neck. “Almost thought she was gonna spank me with a ruler.” she giggled, her fingers finding the nape of his neck. 

“I don’t think you would have hated that entirely,” he raised his eyebrows. Michael’s voice was slow and dragged out - almost sounding unamused by her antics. Despite the cool exterior he had, he was envisioning little miss Y/N bent over his desk with her bottom a bright shade of red. He preferred using his own hand to spank rather than a ruler, but the nuns were set in their ways, he thought. He loved being able to grip her ass each time his hand came smacking down. Being the direct correlation of her whimpered noises made the blood rush to his cock.

“Not if you were the one spanking me,” she almost read his mind. “I think about it a lot you know.” she shrugged as her fingers found the buttons of her shirt, slowly and lazily undoing them. There was no hiding how erect her nipples became through the sheer excuse for a bra she wore. It left little to the imagination for Michael to ogle at her pebbled nipples through the fabric. 

“I appreciate the confession, angel.” he held on to her waist, “But I already know. I know all your dirty little secrets. Every single thought you’ve had about me - I know it.” 

She looked away from his piercing stare - just when she thought she had the upper hand in this little charade they were playing. Michael lifted her chin, making her look him in the eyes, “Aw, no need to get shy about it now.” he chuckled. “What? Was it last week during mass that you wondered what it’d feel like to have my hands around your neck?” the same hand he used to so gently lift her chin up, was now wrapped around her delicate neck. Her pulse was beating rapidly against his finger. 

“Do you like it?” the tip of his nose bumping hers, his warm breath fanned on to her face. Y/N rocked her hips into his. That was enough of an answer for Michael. 

“Naughty little thing. Of course you do.” Michael helped Y/N shrug her shirt off her shoulders, letting it drop to the ground. “But I didn’t need to sense your thoughts to know that.” he shrugged, “Not with the way you walk around me - always making sure I’m watching.” 

Michael picked up her wrist and brought her hand up to his lips, “Just know I always am.” he kissed her knuckles. 

He stood up with Y/N still wrapped around his waist and walked her over to his wooden desk, sitting her on top. As he towered over her, he bent down to cup her face, catching her lips in a feverish kiss. Y/N wasted no further time and allowed her hands to reach for his bulge as he kissed her. She felt him twitch through his pants. Feeling just how big he felt as she palmed him made her question whether she’d be able to take him. 

Michael chuckled into the kiss, “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll try to be gentle.” he winked as he bit down harshly on her lower lip - an indication of just how gentle he planned on being with her. 

The plaid piece of cloth that had day after day taunted him in the hallways now at the tip of his fingers. Letting his hand wander up her thighs, he could feel her heat radiating off of her. He hooked the thin string of her panties on his fingers and dragged them down her legs. Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine as the cool air hit her wet cunt. 

Michael held up her dainty pink panties up like a prize before slipping in them in his back pocket. Sensing the protest Y/N was about to make, he shut her up with a kiss. A kiss so slow and sensual it made her dizzy. His tongue ran over hers, exploring every inch of her mouth. 

Dazed and lost in his kiss, Y/N didn’t expect the sudden probing of her pussy. Two long digit ran up and down her slit, playing with her arousal and made her nice and slick. She gasped into his mouth allowing further access to her. 

“Gonna get you nice and ready for my cock,” his voice was low, just loud enough for her to hear. His fingers plunged into her pussy, feeling her spongy walls contract around them. He curled them up making her convulse and reach out to grab him. 

“Easy..” he cooed, bringing his fingers up to his mouth, getting a taste of her. “Sweeter than honey.” he winked. 

She caressed her own thighs, lifting up her skirt a bit for him. “Michael, I want you to fuck me.” 

He laughed, taking his cock out of his pants. He was unlike anything she’d seen before. It was long and carved with intricate veins. His cock pulsed in his palm as he began to align himself at her entrance. 

Michael eased his way inside. Measuring just how quickly he entered her by her breathing. It helped that she was so wet. Each time her breath hitched in her throat, he slowed it down. “Just fuck me.” she eventually cried out. The feeling of wanting to be full of him needed to be satiated. She’d been patient for too long. “I can handle it.” 

He groaned in response - even more turned on over how much Y/N needed to be fucked by him. For once, he did as he was told and rammed his cock inside her. 

“Oh, fuck.” she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulder blades. 

When he laughed at her reaction, his whole body shook inside her. She could feel each and every vibration to her core. Michael was balls deep inside her tight little cunt. He was breathing heavily as her warm walls hugged his cock. 

Living in the sensation of being filled up, her hungry lips searched his. Michael pulled away, only to grab her by the base of her hair, tilting her head back. She whimpered at the tug of her hair. “Open your mouth for me,” he panted. 

Y/N didn’t miss a beat. Her mouth dangled open, pink tongue on display for him. She watched with teary eyes as he collected his spit in his mouth. Her pleading eyes and silent whines made his cock jerk. Without releasing his grip on her hair, he spit directly into her mouth. She didn’t close her mouth - giving him a clear view of his saliva traveling down her mouth and into her throat. 

“Fuck,” he dragged out the word. 

He began to thrust his hips into her. Bucking repeatedly in a steady pattern. With every thrust her breasts bounced in synchronization.

Y/N reached around him, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling him in as close as she could. “Harder. Fuck me harder.” she begged. 

Grabbing her hips, he slammed into her harder. Fast, forceful thrusts pierced into her. She pressed her forehead on his shoulder as he fucked her mercilessly. 

“Oh God.” she moaned.

“That’s right, angel. Fuck.” he cursed under his breath, “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock.” She swiveled her hips as best she could with his iron grip right before her stomach tightened. Her vision blurred and she swore she saw stars. Michael didn’t dare let go of her as he continued to fuck her until he was about to finish. 

As her orgasm washed over her, Michael pushed her back down on the desk, laying her flat. Her legs continued to shake in the aftermath of her cumming. He pulled out his cock, pumping it in his hand a few times until he spilled all over her body.

Her tummy and breasts were covered in his hot milky cum. Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, trying to slowly regain herself. Michael used his thumb to paint a cross in between the valley of her breasts with his own cum. 

He pressed his now filthy thumb to her lips to which she instinctively responded by sucking it clean. Michael chuckled quietly at how dazed Y/N was. 

“C’mon, Y/N.” he spoke quietly, tucking himself back into his pants. He hooked his arms under her and lightly placed her on his bed for her to rest. 

Worn out Y/N smiled lazily at Michael as he cleaned her up with a warm towel. The hot fabric felt nice against her now sensitive areas between her thighs. “What is it?” Michael asked as he wiped her body down. 

“What happened to you knowing ‘each and every thought’ I have,” she lowered her voice to mimic his. 

He rolled his eyes at her tossing aside the rag and climbing over her. “Just wanted you to take a break before the next round.” he nuzzled his face into her neck, “Your thoughts are telling my just how much of a needy little thing you are..” he mused, his hand already snaking in between her thighs. 

--

Sorry if I messed up your request, anon! 

Tagging: @psychowriter2702 @lovelylangdonx @fckinsupreme @royalblueviper @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sweetfayetanner @langdonsdemon @holl0807 @bloodsuckinvampire @alyssssagrace @langdondelrey @beautiful--kkryptonite @divinelangdon @langdonswhoreprobably @rocketgirl2410 @gurkmaster3 @ilovevangogh-blog @1-800-bitchcraft @lvngdvns @getdevils @satcnas @no-need-for-rules @venusxxlangdon @hecohansen31 @desertsunflower00 

[veronicalodgeoutfitanalysis]

Chapter Twenty Four: The Wrestler

As much as I do not give a single fuck about Riverdale’s sports storylines {sorry Archie) I do like this episode. It’s incredibly homoerotic and is actually directed by acclaimed gay director Greg Araki. Fun fact!

Veronica’s first outfit in this episode is a black jumper with an embellished collar, accessorized with her teardrop pearl, shocking I know. We never see what she pairs it with but you’d probably be safe in assuming a tartan skirt.

This is very reminiscent of Veronica’s drag race look, another nacy pinafore and floral pencil skirt. However, this isn’t just a ring pull shirt, it’s a full out buttoned up polo shirt. I love the contasting colours on the sleeves and collar, it’s very preppy and so on brand for our girl. I love(!) this skirt, the floral pattern is great and the darker blue pairs very well with the shirt, it’s a look!

This dress is pretty similar to other pieces we’ve seen her in, such as her purple dress from 2x05. The colour is pretty classic Veronica and the gold bow belt is a Veronica staple. It’s cute.

My favourite aspect of Riverdale is Jughead just bothering his friends parents all the time, especially Hiram and Sierra. I just love how annoying he is.

There’s something about this outfit that just isn’t working for me. I like her paisley pink skirt, but this white shirt is not my cup of tea. It is worth noting that we don’t see Veronica in white all that often.

We briefly see Veronica in this blue and green satin robe or pajama top, it’s hard to tell. It’s very fitting with the Lodge loungewear brand though.

Now this is a look! This dress is quite similar to one Veronica wore in 2x09, but it’s a much brighter blue. This royal blue is a colour we’re more prone to seeing on Archie, which makes sense as Veronica’s very much supporting her boyfriend in this episode. It’s also got a very plunging neckline which was altered by the wardrobe department. I also love the addition of a pearl detail bow belt, very Veronica. 

Lots of blue in this episode.

Goddamm this is an outfit! Black mini skirt, blazer, extra large bow, leopard print jumper, and thigh high boots. There’s a lot to this ouftit and it’s all great. As we all know I love Veronica in a good pair of thigh high boots and these velvety black ones are just fantastic. The leopard print gives a nod to The Pussycats in a more... subtle way than last time she performed as one (recall the pussy cat body suit). It’s just a great outfit!

Total: Seven outfits

Cape Count: Not today

Teardrop Pearl: You know it!

Favourite Outfit: Performance outfit 100%

See you soon, the next episode is Veronica’s Communion, very exciting dress coming up!

[miniminisb]

ˢᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘˡᵗ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

okay bUCKLE UP FUCKERS IT’S TIME FOR THE DUMBEST MISTAKE OF MY LIFE. I preface this by saying, I am a dumbass. I am a complete, irrevocable, plain dumbass. Do not do this at home. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 dollars. Heed my warnings. also technically not a cult but basically a cult you’ll see just sit tight.

It was a nice sunny day in September 2017. The seasons were beginning to turn. I had just gotten out of my Intro to Logic class. I felt good. I thought to myself, “Man. Such a nice day. I think I’ll do my homework outside today. Enjoy the weather before it goes to shit.”

So there I was, barbecue sauce on my titties doing some, i dunno, categorical reasoning? Just, sitting beneath a tree, enjoying the day, when two girls walk up to me. They say they’re trying to start a club on campus, and they wonder if I have some time to talk real quick. I have some time before my next class. I’m pretty much done with this homework. I say sure.

Mistake number one.

They sit down and ask if I have ever read the Bible. My stomach immediately sinks. I don’t necessarily have things against organized religion, but… American Christians make me nervous. They really do. Growing up, you get a lot of people at your door and you get a lot of crazies telling you you’re gonna go to hell. They can pick pick the weak out of a crowd and target them for their schemes.

I am the weak.

So I chuckle nervously. I’m in danger! I say no, not really. Kinda. I grew up in a small town and would go to church with friends sometimes hahahahahahaha. They seem alright, kinda. They pull out their own Bible and start flipping through it for certain passages, giving the schpiel of “oh God loves you, Jesus died for our sins, yada yada��� and I’m like, yeah, cool. Whatever.

Then it gets weird. They start talking about the end of the world, Armageddon, the apocalypse, whatever ya wanna call it. They say this time was prophecized in the Bible, snatching on weird passages to claim that North Korea is gonna drop nukes. They say that this will happen where the four corners of the earth meet, and are adamant to say that it’s referring to our area (I go to college at the Four Corners Region in the US of A).

They say how, because it’s gonna happen, it’s more important than ever to save your soul, get baptized, whatever. They ask if I have been baptized. And I say haha no, not yet, like I said I’m not really Christian, hahahah-

Mistake number two.

The girl in charge of the situation nods in a sort of understanding manner. They continue their schpiel, really starting to hit home that saving your soul and accepting the big J is important. They also said jesus was married to the city of jerusalem? For some reason??? Idk man if you’re christian can you explain this to me?

Same girl then goes, out of nowhere, “would you ever consider getting baptized?”

Listen guys. I know I put off big chaotic energy, give no fucks, can’t mess with me persona on here. But in the words of Kim Namjoon, who the hell am i? I am, without a doubt, a spineless bitch who doesn’t know how to stand up for herself when faced with the smallest amount of conflict and no outward reason to refuse people. Y’all, as I write this, I am shaking and my heart is pounding because yes, you can probably see where this is going. And yes, I am that dumb.

I chuckle nervously, fiddle with my hands, and go “haha maybe if my friend would want me to idk” just like, full on passive avoidance shrink-into-yourself of someone who desperately wants this shit to end but really can’t find an out.

And the girl looks me dead in the eyes. “Well, that’s good. But you would have to do it for yourself. Would you ever get baptized for yourself.”

“I mean, maybe? I guess? Hahah I dunno, yeah, maybe.”

MISTAKE NUMBER THREE.

The two bitches perk up. “We can do it now!” bitch what. I have like, maybe 20 minutes until class at this point. I’m shaking. I’m like, man, I just wanted to do my logic homework. And now, I get into fight or flight mode. I can’t miss class. I feel scared. These girls think north korea cares about fucking new mexico and arizona enough to nuke a place which, objectively, has little to no people living there. Like, what, you’re gonna bomb aliens? Whatever.

I really start to say. No. can’t do it. I have class. I really have class, it’s soon, can’t do it. No. And they keep pushing. “It’ll only take five minutes. It’ll be fine. You’ll be okay. Only five minutes.”

Now, what should I have done? I should have picked up my stuff and said “thank you, but no. I need to leave.” I should have said “you women are making me uncomfortable. I said no. Leave me alone. You are crazy.” I should have raised my middle finger to them which, conveniently, has a pentacle ring on it.

Instead, I caved and said fine.

M͏̤̤I̩S̖̙͝T̯̕A̧̗͙K̩͕̺̕E҉̞͙̞̮ ̤̙͕͔N̷̗͙̙ͅU͚͇̯̦͙M̩͙͖B̵̬̝̤̪E̪̺̟͙ͅṞ̼ ̩͉͍͎͎̼͘F̩̦͔̩O̘̭UṞ͉̯͍

The other girl who has remained relatively quiet, jumps up. “Great! I’ll call our minister, he’ll pull up the van!”

The what.

I don’t say anything. I should have. Listen, I don’t know how I was supposed to get baptized in the middle of the day on a Wednesday but fuck, I did not expect to get taken off campus. We have a fucking non denominational chuch on campus. So, who would’ve thunk? Not me!

“The what?”

The girls jump up and seem super excited. I am shaking as I pick up my bag and follow them to the parking lot. Meanwhile I’m screaming silently to myself what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. You know, like a normal person. So at least I wasn’t completely insane.

“We’re just taking you to our church, don’t worry.” And for some reason, that does put me at ease a lil. Cuz, like, I may be a stinking heathen who’s gone to church so many times that she can count it on one hand, but I do have the belief that nice pretty churches are save havens. So, I do feel a little okay.

I still get into a fucking car tho so there’s that I guess.

The dude pulls up. He is… idk he looked like one of those creepy religious fucks from like a horror movie. Dead behind the eyes. We all pack into the car. I’m trying not to cry, honestly. I’m really trying to keep this light cuz it is pretty funny when you step back but keep in mind I was terrified and I don’t know how to say no.

It is only after we pull away that I have the dawning thought. I’m basically getting kidnapped. They could take me fucking anywhere and no one would know and I wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it. Three against one.

As we’re leaving my fucking campus I check the clock. I have, like. Five minutes until my next class. I am a dumbass.

The girl shows me like… an apocalypse video??? for some reason??? Like wow thanks bitch but you already told me the world was gonna end but aight.

I’m hardcore like, astral projecting at this point. Full on dissociation. I do not exist on this plane anymore.

We pull into a fucking starbucks parking lot next to some town homes.

“We’re here!” Where’s the church? Where’s the steeple? Bitch I just see modern condos what the HELL is happening. We get out of the car and go up to one of these fucking apartments basically. Fucking Youth Pastor John unlocks the place and.

Guys.

The church was just a fucking townhome. I’m like. Just. Guys the area where the congregation met was a fucking living room with like maybe six chairs and a podium. On the bright side, lovely open floor plan.

They guide me upstairs.

To the bathroom.

They hand me like… a fucking robe and say I can undress and put that on. They give me a moment but even then i’m like FUCK that. Undressing in a strange house? That’s where I draw the line! Nope, no disrobing for me, thanks! I still put on the robe because apparently it’s like, ritually significant?

Got into my new swanky clothes and they come back in. They start filling up a shitty plastic bucket with water in the tub. At this point, i’m just like:

They tell me to kneel in the tub and raise my hands in prayer. I follow orders, trying to ignore the fact that I am in a strange place that is very much not a church, that I am currently wearing weird periwinkle robes, knowing that people are in class right now just. Learning about fucking Mesopetamia or some shit i forget what the class was about.

The Hannah Montana from Hell Squad prays over me as they pour cupfuls of bucket water over my head. My underclothes are now drenched. My hair is wet. My knees hurt because I’m kneeling in a fucking bathtub.

“Congrats! Your soul is saved!” I have to get to class!

They give me a moment to take off the fucking robes and I collect my things. I step out and i’m like “great I’m late for class, take me back!”

“Oh, but you still need to have passover.”

Passover is a Jewish Holiday practiced in mid to late spring. It’s September. Y’all are christian. But I literally cannot leave, so I follow them into the kitchen where they put a veil on me. The other two girls put on veils as well. I’ve fully surpassed crying and reached silent resignation to my fate as the guy prays over some fucking communion wafers and some grape juice. I take the lil bits of food, luckily too since i fucking missed lunch because of them but at least I have some grape juice to fill me up.

“Now, we know that this is not the correct time for passover, but we needed to do it to save your soul. Now, practice Passover every year from now on to make sure you show your dedication to God and make sure your soul is saved.”

They do take me back to campus. I am in soaking short shorts and a red flannel. It is, to say the least, very moist and uncomfortable as I start to stick to the faux leather seats of this mini van.

I’m like “cool great thanks for having me!” as they pull up to my building, and as I try to get out, the quieter girl (who, genuinely, seemed to be fond of me) asked if she could have my number.

HEY YOU KNOW HOW THIS STORY STARTED? WITH ME LACKING THE ABILITY TO SAY NO TO PEOPLE? YOU REMEMBER THAT? HUH!?

But this time, ohhoho, I have a plan. I’ll give her a fake number! That’ll teach her! So I punch in a few random numbers really hastily because I am still in this fucking van and I am twenty five minutes late for a fifty five minute class.

“Cool can we test it real quick to make sure we have the right number?”

And, like a dog with my tail between my legs, I very quietly go “yeah uhm i think i put in the wrong number hang one second” and fixed it to my actual number. Like a goddamn moron.

I sprint out of the van. Walk into my class soaking wet with my head down at my professor is in the middle of a lecture. I find my seat in the back of the classroom on the other side, so everyone has seen me. My friend leans up to me as I sit down, and asks me where I have been. I tell her that I got lost during a hike and fell into a creek.

Now, what is the moral of this story, children? If anyone asks you if you want to get baptized on a Wednesday in the middle of September, simply say

[shewrites-sometimes]

Chapter One: Esther (Part 1)

Jesus once said, "You don't understand what I am doing, but someday you will." That's exactly how I felt when the little pink plus sign appeared on the pregnancy test.

Shit.

It was one time. The one time I give into Cullen, God gives me a baby.

I picked up my phone and called Cullen. He picked up on the last ring.

"Hey, wanna chill for a bit tonight?" He asked. I could hear him popping gum in his mouth.

I knew what "chill" meant in his vocabulary. No. No more chilling with Cullen. I had to tell him about the baby, but this was big news. I had to ease into the announcement.

"I'm pregnant." I blurted.

"What!" He shouted into my ear.

I winced and held the phone away from my ear while he went on a curse word-laced mini rant. I waited until he was finished yelling before bringing the phone back to my ear.

"I don't want a kid." He huffed.

"Tell me about it."

"I can take you to a clin-"

"No." I shut down the idea as fast as it had arrived.

There was silence for a long time. I sat down on the toilet lid and shook the pregnancy test, willing the plus sign of misfortune to get out of my life. But it was too late. We had done the deed. The damage was irreversible.

"I have to get ready for church." I told him before hanging up the call. I buried my head in my hands, willing myself not to cry. I couldn't cry.

A knock on the door startled me back into reality. "Esther? Are you okay in there, Honey?" Mom's voice was so soft and filled with concern on the other side of the door that it made my heart break.

"I'm fine." I flushed the toilet and dropped the test into the trash. I would tell them. Just not today.

Mom stopped me at the door and held my head in her hands. She studied my face. I forced an innocent look onto my face, but she could always tell when something was wrong wit me.

"Are you okay, Honey? You look a little sick."

*You have no idea.*

I gave her a smile. "I'm fine, Mom. Just a little tired." I pulled her hands from my face and pushed past her.

It felt like I was in the all clear when she suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, by the way, I invited Cullen and his parents over after church."

Awesome.

I gave her an awkward smile and thumbs up before disappearing into my room and shutting the door.

I collapsed onto my bed and couldn't hold the tears back any longer. I sobbed onto my pillow for a good five minutes before pulling it away and seeing that it was soaked with tears.

I still couldn't believe it. How could this happen? I was seventeen. This couldn't possibly be happening to me. I was always the role model. The one who never made mistakes. The one everyone looked up to. And now what was I? A whore. That's what everyone would call me.

"Ten minutes!" Mom called.

I took one last deep breath before forcing myself to sit up and wipe my tears away. No one had to know. At least not yet. I figured I would be able to wait a couple of weeks before ruining my relationship with my parents forever. Yes. I could do that.

I walked to my closet and picked out my most modest church outfit for when I had to face Cullen. My eyes were still puffy from crying when I swiped on my mascara, but there was nothing I could do about that now. I grabbed my purse on the way out.

My parents, who were having an intense conversation about some Psalm, hardly noticed me when I slipped past them through the door and went to the car. In fact, they hardly noticed me for the entire car ride, to which I was eternally grateful.

We arrived to church twenty minutes early, like usual. I snagged our usual seats in the second pew while my parents spoke with some of their friends. Normally I would have been there, too, but i just couldn't bring myself to talk to anyone.

Instead, I took my notebook out of my purse and tried to focus on the notes I had taken last week about Daniel. I started to highlight phrases that Pastor David had said that were important to me.

"Did you know that excessive highlighting isn't all that effective?"

I stopped and realized I had highlighted almost the entire page. I groaned in frustration.

"Someone's not having a good day." I turned to see my friend, Jesse, leaning over the back of the pew studying my notes intently.

If only you knew.

I shut the notebook, suddenly embarrassed.

"What's going on?" He asked. "You're not talking to anybody."

"If one of your friends did something bad - like really bad - would you still be their friend?"

"Like what kind of bad?" He asked, jumping over the pew and sitting down next to me.

"Well, not criminal-bad, but bad sin-wise."

"The way I see it, we all make mistakes. Wasn't that the whole point of Jesus dying on the cross? 'Cause if not wow do we have something to tell Pastor David." He teased.

I sighed. He didn't understand. He was going to abandon me. "Okay," was all I could say.

Before Jesse could ask any questions, church started and his mom called him back over to their pew. People started shuffling in the doors, their voices and footsteps echoing throughout the room.

Pastor David began making his rounds, greeting everyone who came in with a few kind words and a charismatic smile. Just the sight of him made me giddy. I had had the silliest crush on him when I was younger. I even announced to him at one of our barbecues that I would marry him one day. He thought I was the cutest thing.

"Good morning." He said to be as he walked by.

"Good morning." I did my best to imitate his wide grin, but it only made me feel awkward. Pastor David made his way up to the pulpit, gripping the podium sides in his hands. His grin was so large it almost looked goofy.

"How's everyone doing today?" He asked the church. He got a round of yeses and yeahs, and someone even whooped. The whole church laughed.

This is what I needed. Church. These people weren't so bad. They weren't the monsters I had built them up to be in my mind. They wouldn't judge me.

"Good, I'm feeling pretty good today as well. Now, onto today's sermon. In the next coming weeks we're going to be closely examining each of the Seven Deadly Sins. We're going to be starting this week with lust.

This should be fun. At least Cullen has to sit through it, too.

"Lust is described as a usually intense or unbridled sexual desire. Now, why is lust bad, you may ask?"

Beside me, my phone buzzed. I flipped it over and read a text from Jesse: I'm lusting for a hamburger right about now.

I covered my mouth to stifle a giggle. I replied, It's 10AM, way too early for a hamburger.

Him: You don't know my life.

Apparently Jesse had been paying at least a little bit of attention to the sermon, because he stopped replying just before we were told to open up our hymn books to page 51. I see stood up, hymn book in hand, ready to sing, but couldn't help to look back at Jesse, who had a faint smile on his face.

Church continued like this for another two hours. Pastor David preaching about lust, Jesse and I texting, singing hymns, and occasionally taking notes, not that I wanted to, but because my friends and I always compared them afterwards.

We sang one last hymn before we prayed, took Communion, and we dismissed.

I hurried up to pack my things and meet my friends outside. They were already in the middle of a game of soccer with some of the smaller kids when I reached them. I sat down under a tree near where they were playing.

"Why don't you come join us?" Jesse shouted in my direction.

I shook my head and took out my notes. "No, thanks, I have some stuff to go over." Even though I had already gone over everything in my notebook numerous times.

I flipped over to today's notes. My stomach growled, interrupting my train of thought. How could I have possibly been so hungry? Oh, that's right, I skipped breakfast and bought the pregnancy test instead.

After every church ceremony, Pastor David and a few other people were in charge of a huge lunch. I usually didn't eat at these things but my hunger was demanding my attention.

I walked to the back of the line. The person in front of me handed me a plastic cup.

I reached out to grab it. "Thank --" Cullen gave me an unfriendly smile. "...you." I finished.

"You're welcome." He replied.

When I came to the punchbowl, I drowned a whole cupful of the stuff, hoping I didn't have a red mustache afterward. I refilled my cup.

Cullen handed me a plate, which he had already put salad on. "Be careful not to gain too much weight." His voice was so low that I thought I had imagined it, but the small smile on his lips told me otherwise.

The thing about Cullen was that he was really sweet and caring -- when he wanted something from you. And the thing is that he was so good at manipulation, you could never tell when he was being sincere. In fact, I wasn't even sure he had ever been sincere about anything as long as he'd be alive. I was pretty sure that his entire life was one manipulation after the next.

I took a deep breath and held back my anger. He wouldn't see me mad at him. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I was the bigger person here.

"Esther!" Cullen's mom, Jen, who had been in line in front of Cullen this whole time, had just noticed I was standing there. "Honey, you're glowing!"

I choked. Cullen's face went pale.

"What?" I croaked out.

"I mean, you've always been so beautiful, but you look absolutely radiant today."

Cullen looked noticeably relieved, and I'm sure I did, too. I put on a smile. "Thank you so much. You're too kind."

She shot me a smile and moved up in line.

I got the rest of my food -- macaroni salad and a cheeseburger -- and joined my friends back near the tree. They were comparing notes now. I sat down and chowed down on my burger. I didn't bother opening my notebook, I had inadvertently memorized everything I had written down.

"What, are you eating for two or something?" My friend, Lydia, joked.

I choked on my burger. A drink of punch washed it down. My friends had never seen me eat so much before, which made sense. I'd always been self conscious about my weight.

"So, what did Cullen say to you?" My other friend, Sabella, asked, giddy with excitement. She knew I had had a crush on Cullen since seventh grade. Looking back, it had turned out to be a huge waste of my time -- and my future.

I shrugged nonchalantly and took another bite of burger. Now I remembered why I never ate at these things. The meat was practically raw on the inside. Would that hurt the baby? Was it even old enough to get hurt yet?

Now Lydia and Sabella both knew something was up with me. Up until three weeks ago all I ever talked about with them was Cullen. Jesse, however, could not have looked less interested. He was still adding onto his notes.

"Something happened between you guys." Lydia blurted out. Sabella nodded her head in agreement.

I shrugged. "I just realized he's not that great is all. It's not a big deal."

After five more minutes of this awful conversation, Mom called my name, signaling it was time to go. I said goodbye to my friends and stuff led the rest of my plate in a garbage can.

Unfortunately, my parents no longer had anything to talk about, which meant they focused on me.

"What's wrong, Honey?" Dad asked, looking at me through the rear view mirror.

I forced a small smile. "Oh, I'm fine. That burger just isn't sitting right on my stomach is all." I gave my belly a light pat. Dad stared at me for a moment too long, and I didn't think he bought it, but he let the subject drop anyway.

We got home a whole three minutes faster than Cullen's family. I used my free time to run to the bathroom and puke my guts out.

By the time I was finished cleaning up, the bell rang. I answered it and led the Smiths to the family room and kept them entertained while my parents were preparing hor d'oeuvres. Luckily Cullen's dad, George, was a talker.

"So, Esther, how's school going?" He asked.

"I'm doing really well this year. All of my teachers are so great at helping me." I replied with the best fake smile I could muster. Like most kids, I hated to talk about school.

Just as my parents were coming in with the food, Jen excused herself to go to the bathroom. Now it was my parents' turn to ask Cullen questions. And there wasn't anything going good for him in school. I reveled in his squirming when my parents asked him about his GPA.

Suddenly there was a shriek -- yes, a shriek -- of joy coming from the bathroom. All of is shot up when Jen came running in with a pregnancy test in her hand.

"Congratulations!" Jen almost knocked Mom down trying to hug her.

My eyes went wide with shock. Cullen gave me a look that said it all: you idiot.

Tagging: @seas-reading-nook

[philcon-programming]

Philcon 2018 Gaming Suite Programming

Gaming - Suite 923

In addition to open gaming, tournaments and demos in the Promenade area just outside of the Dealer's Room, you can enjoy relaxing and gaming with others in the Philcon Gaming Suite, 923. Assorted board and card game banks are available. Play our games or bring your own favorites and find someone to play along. Hang out, have a snack, play and chat with other gamers. Learn a game, teach a game, share a game. We also have a new space for panels and gaming in The Gallery this year. See your program guide for more information.

General Schedule for 2018:

Friday, 6 pm to 2 am - Open Gaming Saturday, 11 am to 3 pm - Panels, Workshops and Open All Ages Gaming Saturday, 3 pm to 2 am - Open Gaming Sunday, 9 am to 3 pm - Open Gaming * Things are in full swing in planning for Philcon. Here are some of the fun games and events. We are always open to new ideas and your input and involvement is appreciated!

Gaming Suite Meet and Greet Get together with fellow gamers and fans to kick off the weekend. Friday 9 p.m.

Scheduled Games: One Night Ultimate Werewolf+ No moderator, no elimination, ten-minute games. One Night Ultimate Werewolf is a fast game for 3-10 players in which everyone gets a role: One of the dastardly Werewolves, the tricky Troublemaker, the helpful Seer, or one of a dozen different characters, each with a special ability. In the course of a single morning, your village will decide who is a werewolf...because all it takes is killing one werewolf to win! Because One Night Ultimate Werewolf is so fast, fun, and engaging, you'll want to play it again and again, and no two games are ever the same. GM: Tal Alailima Friday and Saturday at 10 p.m.

Cards Against Humanity [18+] Cards Against Humanity is a party game for horrible people. Each round, one player asks a question from a Black Card, and everyone else answers with their funniest White Card. GM: Ginny Swann Friday and Saturday at 11 p.m.

* SCHEDULED RPGs: (Sign up in the Gaming Suite)

D&D 5th edition RPG The Dragon Turtle Back Zoo (3357)It's the first day of your unpaid internship at the Dragon Turtle Back Zoo, where the curious from every nation come to see the most exotic and dangerous monsters in the world. You hope to parlay this valuable learning experience into a long and distinguished career in cryptozoology (or least some college credit), but first you have to survive your new boss. Adventure for 1st level D&D 5E characters, pre-generated character sheets will be provided.Number of players: 5 (pre-generated characters) DM Aaron Feldman Gaming Suite, Friday 8 p.m.

Golden Templars RPG This is an epic story. You are members of the Golden Templars, a sect within the Knight Templars who receive communion from the Holy Grail which grants them abilities beyond normal men and women. You are tasked with keeping the peace in Jerusalem and protecting the pilgrims who visit it. The feel of the campaign is mainly comic book with some secret history. Check out the Obsidian Portal:

https://golden-templars.obsidianportal.com/

for more information.  Number of players: 6 (pre-generated characters) GM John Swann Gaming Suite, Saturday 8 p.m.

Pathfinder RPG Introductory Session for Pathfinder 1st Edition Learn how to play the exciting Pathfinder 1st edition RPG. Chris Bell, Pathfinder Venture Agent, will run a scenario suited for beginning Pathfinder players. Pre-generated characters will be provided. This introduction to Pathfinder Society organized play will include Pathfinder Society scenario credit for participation. All experience levels welcome, including those new to the Pathfinder Society as well as PFS veterans! Maps, minis, and dice will be provided. Number of players: 2-7 (pre-generated characters)

http://paizo.com/pathfinder/rpg GM Chris Bell The Gallery (first floor), Saturday 8 p.m.

X-Wing Minis GM John Skylar The Gallery (first floor), Saturday 8 P.M.

Post-Apocalyptic Blues: Escapee Blues RPG Fifty years after World War III, pockets of civilization try to flourish in the ruins of the old world. You lived a quiet life in a small farming settlement...until slavers raided your community and took you captive. Separated from your friends and family, you found yourself on a slave transport going to a place called Hopewell in Louisiana. And were it not for the...thing...that attached the transport, you would still be destined for slavery. But now, you and your fellow escapees must transverse the Louisiana swamps and marshes to find civilization, while avoiding the remaining slavers that want to recapture you and that...thing...that is still out there. How long can you last with on just your wits and the limited supplies you can scavenge? Players will be given pre-generated character sheets and will take on the role of an escapee from a slave transport. Uses variant d20 Modern/OGL rules. Players should bring their own dice.Number of players: Up to 8 (pre-generated characters) GM Julie Ann Dawson Gaming Suite, Sunday 11a.m. - 3 p.m. *

PANELS / WORKSHOPS / PLAY AND LEARN SESSIONS:

Video Games and Disability From ADHD and autism to wheelchairs and walkers, video games across platforms offer a unique way to connect people who otherwise would not have an avenue or outlet to reach out to people. How else does the world of digital storytelling open avenues for disabled content creators and consumers?

Workshop: All-Ages Game Design A hands-on, family-friendly workshop. Learn how to put together a game of your own design with your family or friends! A group of people putting together a (simple) game in an hour or two.  

Saturday All Ages Gaming Time (2 Hour - PLAY SESSION) The Gaming Suite is always open to all ages. We do like to offer a time when parents might like to bring the kids in for game time. Are there games you love to play with your kids? Table top gaming is a family experience. Raising a young geek means sharing with them, but as most parents know, finding games that are fun to play together can be challenging. When looking for a family-friendly game, try shorter games that don’t require too much reading, and games that reinforce math and spacial skills. There are also games that can be played by all ages with some modifications to the rules. Games will be available for you to try out with your family: Blokus, Get Bit!, Tsuro, Quick Cups, Roll for it, Panda Head, Face Chase, Flipping Flags, Set Junior, Apples to Apples, Spot it. Want to try an RPG with you kids? We have one called "No Thank You, Evil". Have one you don't see here? Bring it to share.

Tabletop DMing 101 Are you an experienced D&D Player but want to run a campaign for the first time? Not sure where to start in running a Tabletop RPG? Join us for the tips and tricks to help you get started.

SF and Video Games How has Science Fiction been altered and explored in the realm of player-interactive content? What impact did Metroid have on fandom and SF storytelling? What about Mass Effect?

[alishbakhanus]

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[josieswrk]

Unashamed (Naked)

It started with a prayer request. My friend asked me over the weekend to send her my prayer requests because she was going to early morning prayer / sebyuk gido for three days. “But think about it,” she said. “Take your time and write them to me.”

I did take my time to think about them. Some of the prayer requests were obvious - the things that worry me on most days: my job search, my upcoming licensing exam, and something else that’s private. But when I took the time and space to listen, almost as if I was praying for what I want to ask prayer for, there was another request that surfaced from the depths of my heart:

“I want to be the version of Josie that exists when it’s just Josie & God,” I wrote to her. “And I need God’s help to find that version again.”

You’ve seen me write about it so many times on this blog. On most days, I felt lost and in the eye of a confusing storm. Time with people, whether virtually or in the flesh, was both encouraging and complicated. Every time I shared about my life and someone suggested the slightest “should,” I would feel guilty and confused, especially when the “should”s were in conflict with each other. Without an anchor for my identity, I found myself reverting to my old habits of adjusting my personality to please or mirror the person in front of me. When I lose my grip on who God created me to be, I become a disembodied spirit, frightened of the void and hungering for a model to morph into.

You may see me stressing out so much about my identity and think “Wow, that’s quite the self-centered project.” But I disagree. To me, being who God created me to be is exactly how I glorify Him and live out my calling on this earth. It is how I know that I am not making myself in the image of other idols (other people, the dominant culture, whatever identity/personality that will get me worldly rewards or the love of people). I believe that God is an exquisitely intentional God, who made all of us distinct with a purpose. It deeply excites me when a group of believers, rather than morphing into the same basic Christian template, boldly bring their unique personalities and gifts and work together for His Kingdom purposes. It’s a similar excitement to the moment you see an ensemble of distinct and often conflicting personalities in action movies or shonen manga/anime unite together to defeat an impossible enemy. SASAGEYO!!

This is why it bothers me on a spiritual level when I feel out of touch with myself. It is a sign to me that I am hoping for something else to give me the love that I yearn for. It is a sign to me that, rather than living in the love of God, which frees me and empowers me to be who God created me to be, I am living under the fear of man. It is a sign to me, that, rather than charging forward in boldness for His kingdom, I am tied up by the snares of the enemy. 

I sent my friend this prayer request (thank you, by the way for your labor in prayer!) and began praying into this myself. I think it helped that I am catsitting/housesitting somewhere else for the week. Though it was exhausting to live out of two apartments and bring things back and forth constantly from one place to another, it felt like a mini retreat. A different environment away from my usual distractions and fertile ground for the renewing of my mind. 

I wanted to end the cycle of being the Josie that other people want me to be, and even the Josie that I am trying to find through my own fevered analysis of my life. I wanted to be the Josie that God *c r e a t e d* me to be. I wanted to be the Josie that He had in mind when He knit me in my mother’s womb. The Josie that He would delight in. I want that so much - for Him to be delighted. To be pleased. I want to make His heart fill with joy because I am living out the life that He intended - not the life that anyone else on earth wants for me. 

***

After studying all day for the licensing exam, I made a trip back to my apartment to move some furniture for the contractors tomorrow. I took the opportunity to restock on food supplies and take a shower in my own bathroom. It was while I was taking a shower that the feeling hit me. “This is it!” I wanted to squeal. “This is the most divine version of myself!” If the past couple of months felt like a roulette of personalities, I felt like I had suddenly chanced upon the right one. The jackpot. And I desperately wanted to write the feeling down, right then and there, because I didn’t know when the roulette would start and the feeling would disappear again. (In reality, what ended up happening was I jotted some notes down as soon as I got out of the shower, but had to walk all the way back to the cat apartment, fed the cats, make some dinner, and then eat dinner before I had the chance to actually sit down and write this post). 

I still can’t quite describe what it felt like. The first word that came to mind was creative. The therapist part of me cried, “Hey, that’s not a feeling word!” But I don’t know how else to describe it right now - I know I’m the best version of myself when I feel deeply creative. It’s a different experience from the creativity that comes from a brainstorm (the creativity of a million different ideas exploding in connected branches and fracturing in a million different directions). It’s the opposite of the feeling I get when I write most of the time (accompanied by the voice that says “NO! NO! THIS IS TRASH!” or “YOU’RE A BAD PERSON”). It’s also an experience that’s distinct from the moments I’m home alone in my thoughts, wandering through the mists in a restful state. I think... the feeling I’m trying to describe is the opposite of shame. It’s funnily appropriate that I had the feeling when I was in the shower because we describe our perfect relationship with God and one another before the Fall in terms of nakedness. But I think that’s how I felt, even when I was fully clothed and walking down Locust St. back to my friend’s apartment. I felt so exquisitely connected to everything: the twilight sky, the people I passed on the street, my own thoughts and ideas, the people who genuinely love me, to God... The veil of shame between me and everything around me had been lifted, and I didn’t realize there was always something mitigating my interactions with the world until it was gone. I didn’t realize I was feeling the world through cloth until it was gone and I felt it on plain, bare skin. 

***

In this time of reconnection with myself, I also reconnected with the characters of my fantasy world, the world of the novel which will never be written. One of the characters is a traveling swordswoman with a “curse” - every cut she inflicts on her enemy cuts into her own flesh. She is able to mitigate the effects of the “curse” with a magic charm that reduces the ratio of harm, however. For example, if she severs the limb of her opponent, it will appear on her body as just a scratch where the cut was made, instead of her own limb falling off. Even so, this makes her economical with her strikes and she deals killing blows very sparingly. (And what happens if she needs to user her sword against an enemy but loses the magic charm? Dun dun dun...)

She came into my mind one day when I was thinking about empathy. Empathy, which I would loosely define as the ability to understand the feelings of experiences of another, comes in so many different forms. I have a lot of empathetic friends and they are all so different. I have friends whose empathy always results in action - they feel for me and get me a cup of tea as I’m crying about my dog dying; they feel for me and help me come up with a concrete plan as I’m a mess. I have friends whose empathy results in exactly the right encouragements I need to hear, almost as if God Himself was speaking to me - they rebuke lies and affirm truths that I cannot comprehend myself when I’m in the weeds. I even have friends whose empathy is not so feeling based but based in cognition and observation. They might not feel me, but in their own way, they understand, and honestly sometimes it’s really comforting to not have my feelings be amplified and felt by another but just thought about and responded to. 

My kind of empathy is absorption. My previous clinical supervisor said “You’re like a sponge.” Many times, I won’t know what to do, or even what to say (and many times I am envious of those who are able to mobilize into action). But if I am listening to you, I am not only processing the information you’re saying - I’m experiencing you. That is how I thought of this idea of a character hurting herself when she hurts other people... Even if they are her “enemy.” And how, in certain cases, she must grit her teeth and do it anyway, even though she knows so acutely that it is causing someone else pain. (I also wondered how it would affect her mental health to have to do this over and over... Hurt people and feel exactly or a small fraction of the pain you are causing them. Would you truly be able to numb yourself the way that other killers would?)

Empathy can lead to deeper connection, but it can also lead to pain - whether it’s by feeling the pain of another or being taken advantage of. There are times when people love the way you make them feel more than they love you (and treat you like trash when you stop making them feel good). I’ve learned that this will happen sometimes. But when I get lost, and when I forget, I only need to run back to God, who loves me not because of what I can do for him (what a laughable thought), but because of who He redeemed me to be. If anything, God knows the pain of empathy - He became a human and suffered the consequences for our sin so that we could be in unashamed (& naked) communion with him again. 

[wallpapernifty]

24 Various Ways To Do Flower Girl Veil | Flower Girl Veil

When Hana Mayeda, a model, headed to a yoga retreat in Ojai, California, in 2017, she never accepted she’d accommodated her approaching husband, James Gerard Murray IV, an author, and interventionist. “I went to the retreat for accuracy and to reconnect with myself,” Hana says. “When I absolved in the advanced aperture I anon bent eyes with James.”

In beneath than one year, James popped the catechism while the brace abounding the Sundance Film Festival, but they didn’t blitz to the altar. Instead, they enjoyed a diffuse 16-month assurance afore throwing a floral-filled anniversary at Cielo Farms in Malibu, California, not far from their home in Los Angeles.

“We capital the bodies we so acutely adulation and adore to leave activity aerial and inspired,” Hana says of the wedding, which included affluence of abandoned details: a matcha and latte bar, gluten-free desserts, a abruptness aboriginal ball with a nod to Bollywood music, and a carol by the groomsmen which included LED wings. It wasn’t the easiest alley for the brace to get there, though, and Hana says it was important to account their hardships too. “If you account yourselves and can acquisition joy alike aback it gets sticky, a wedding—and what it represents—is a admonition that adulation is so abundant bigger than aggregate else,” she says. “Our adage for the wedding, per our neon sign, was that Adulation Wins. It’s true. Adulation consistently wins.”

“After alpha to plan a bells in Tulum, we ultimately absitively to get affiliated afterpiece to home so that my earlier ancestors could join,” Hana says

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[milesatticusmartin]

Apple Cider Vinegar

by Miles Martin

a gaping wound falls deep into the armchair crying and

its lizardlounging lovely and

its fruitflying into the mouthwash swish swashing piehole and

down it goes with the blue of the pour and the bleak squeak of the mousetrap cracking 

snapshitshut 

on the bone breaking pawse

of furry silence (squeak scatters squeak)

pan pennies personalities tinkle on cast iron irony at the cheap price of ten cents,

and incense knitting smoke rings like a guilt quilt built like belts buckling under the weight of 

tapping time,

happy time,

you time,

you two timing son of a bubblegum hand holding handgun you! your cocking voice is tick tocking a lot and dripping snot splatter everywhere!

you make me want to worship my own feet!

you make me want to appreciate them!

you fill me full of mirthfulmadnessmiserymemories!

you’re barking up the wrong three messiahs each of them scolding me into their manifestly mocky mold characterized by merciless merciless ridicruel merciless ridicruel plagued like a big ball-bearing black rat

away away away i say in a way in a way annoy annay annoy annay annoy annay annoy annay annoy nothing not even a crumb of bread breaking communion style stale slapping my wrist with a twist and a misty visage in a state of christian piss oregon pumping adrenaline as they read me the rite the way the rite the way

the passage foretold for the white lamb meat red lamb meat like a tormenting riddle memory possibility fiddling throughout about the basics the tongue clicks the baked sticks who fire flowing sowing and weaping the teachings of preachings foretold for

the palace gates the united states the barrels and crates the lemonade selling lamentations and the fade feeling sort of sordid in their lasting effect over generations

read the rite the right way 

and read

the passage

please

and freely feel free to eyeball roll behind your skull cracked coconut if you feel so inclined

here, i’ll even answer some of the questions you’ve been mailing me since september 

so did i bid my father farewell again? did i worship a torch tip? did i worship a shipment of scented sin drips? did i pay a sippy cup portioned price for a fishy cracker-sized smile? because i sure do feel deep inside the settling soon and i should be going away anyway. but i’ll continue as all of us always do

reused abused recycled and shortfused confusion is the live i live in lividly

it touts aloof a toof tethered tight to a looth tooth

a tooth is looth i tether tie it to the truth and pull

that shining doorknob and the blood shining elevator door style out of my shining mouth starring shining jack nicholson and shining shelley duvall walking backwards in the snow retracing my steps to stay safe from the kitchen knife maniac in my mind

growth and distraction from the reused abused recyced shortfused confusion settling in my shoes wet from the rain.

 but then there’s middle name lorraine. hello middle name lorraine. 

i’ve just opened my eyes and there you are

hairdryer blasting high my wet rain falling shoes warm

this whole entire time 

but then a buzzing occurs followed by a puff of black smoke from your  hairdryer and you know what that means

the borders of closed captions continuously ketch snug between one way of life and another

still hovering in the imposter’s inner dialogue

their eyelid darkness

their fruit fly mouthwash swishswashing piehole

heavy waking where one dream wanders and atom bomb bam

the memory of father’s records (skip skip skip) spinning out of control in an inner spindle of kindling wood combustion against the garage door breaking into pieces into the fear

the fear of being pawned off

or shipped to washington

from oregon

from california

oh the memory and the same feeling i attach to so many others like it. oh how it’s punctuated by the guilt of a slamming piano. oh how i wish i could rid of the sound in the space that jumps forth from the walls in our skull cracked coconuts froth filled and fantastic. oh so sorry and disgustingly so, eeni meenie mini moh, catch a tiger by its etch-a-sketch self portraiture capacities using magnets

i mean toe.

i do speak of magic magnets, though,

on ocelot occasion

and the magic between everyone in this room

on ocelot occasion

and everyone in this tomb

on ocelot occasion

and everyone in this godforsaken heaven on earth

 that’s what i consider it to be or at least when the coconut’s cracked in half i do consider it to be

on ocelot occasion.

oh but how i love the animals so. oh how i see myself in a toad,

in a monkey,

in a hamster,

in a a canary,

in a fruit fly who sucks on hardened cow dung.

in a screech at the drop of a lung and the phonograph needle plunging on a record  skip skip skips the gaping wound falling deep into the armchair crying and perks its ears to the errs and oars of its past setting the stage for a bacon wrapped crackling record skip memory record skip and scoring the contempt i hold for mine own tongue skip and oh

i am surrounded by dinner guests 

here, vulture these remains, they are my offering to you

the offering of fleshy worth from white brittle bones. from these white brittle bones we are able to say the word was and the word this.

so let us investigate the word was and the word this. 

this we know for sure was a panic attack, this we know for sure was a wiggly worm at the end of a stick, this we know for sure was the confession of an iguana, this we know for sure was the application of mayonnaise skin lotion, this we know for sure was an octopus way of going about things, this we know for sure was style over some stuff, this we know for sure was the dedication to the fact that if spiders had a flag for their species it would probably be of a web, and  this we know for sure was the application of fake solutions to the fake problems we’ve constructed for ourselves altogether, and this

lies! the fruit fly is filled with fruit lies! the fruit fly is filled with nothing but fruit fucking fruit lies! it sucks on an acrimboldo cornhusk ear trapped in a rolled up paper cup cone wineglass filled full of apple. cider. vinegar.

may. it. soak.

through. your. tongue.

may. it. make.

your. nose. run.

and run and run and run and run and run  and run and skip

[nikki-reuclife]

School Tours Ireland

Above all we focus on providing unforgettable days out! Getting the most out of your school trip means selecting the best supplier. You can also make it simple on yourself by booking a faculty tour at Trabolgan, famend for providing some of one of the best school tours in Eire! Reward packs of stationery items can be put together upfront for visiting faculties, please tell us when booking should you would wish these to be included in your bundle value. Such visits help group leaders to properly danger assess all aspects of the proposed tour in advance. So in case your club or school is planning a sports activities tour in 2019 be certain that to make Eire your primary selection on your Easter tour. The historical past tour reflects the varsity curriculum and provides a further useful resource for college students and teachers while remaining enjoyable and engaging for all. We work with teachers and colleges to offer the perfect educational expertise for teenagers and teenagers. Baxter returned to Carrup Carrup permanently in 1843. He drained much of the swamp space and started rising wheat which fetched high costs. How excessive is the Purple Circuit?

Oideas Gael periods can final from just a few days to a full 5-week program. We tailor the difficulty to your class degree so everybody can benefit from the Puzzle within the Park. Whereas our media room has a cutting-edge laptop rendering of Cork Harbour where students can take management and pilot a ship or protect Cork harbour from assault! Query, any suggestions about eating places or pubs while on vacation? Your journey will take you on a trip again by means of the colourful history of Blackrock, Cork or into the way forward for blazars, quasars and the BCO Planet Search Programme. Millstreet Country Park is likely one of the main instructional, cultural and eco-tourism destinations in the South making it the proper location for educating kids on geology, nature and history. Vaikato in Taupo. It is a small however luxurious resort which may serve an example of the nation comfort of the "old school".

Cork Harbour Boat Rent are delighted to welcome aboard school tours! Admission for college tours is €10.00 per student and there's no charge for teachers, SNA's or mother and father. A guide can be provided free of cost for groups of greater than 15 individuals with an admission worth of €5.50 pp. Our Tour Advisors might be more than pleased to assist you together with your enquiry. After about 3 - four weeks you will notice the balloon deflating and the juice changing into clear. Convey your college students outdoors with Killary Adventure Co. and see what a difference a it makes. See the dock where the Titanic was built and the political murals on the Falls and Shankill Roads. FULL DAY: Cost from €30 - €35 pp, 10 am - 3 p.m (instances are changeable) 5 Hours in whole & up to 3 actions. All actions are supported and supervised by certified professionals. Are there lots of zip lines?

Cork City (St Finn Barre’s) Sunday Services are at 8am (Said Eucharist), eleven:15am (Choral Eucharist) and three:30pm (Choral Evensong). Even though the citizens of Melbourne call the town climate as '4 seasons in at some point', it is a city of moderate weather more often than not and Melbourne tours are at all times relaxing. Or join us on our unbelievable cave exploration Paddleboard tours. Down Cathedral, Downpatrick Easter Sunday at eleven:30am with Holy Communion. Christ Church, Rathgar, Dublin - EASTER school tours Cork Sunday at 9:30am (Sacrament of Holy Communion) and 11am (Morning Worship). This will be the Irish Life’s first cease the day they arrive in Eire en route to Waterford. Everybody had an exquisite motion filled day. Please keep after the service for a cup of tea/coffee and fellowship. The learning experiences acquired on the journey stay along with your students for a lifetime. Ring of Kerry is a superb alternative for experiences close to the Irish coastline.

Guides select volunteers to participate in a whiskey comparability tasting, demonstrating the refined difference in taste between varied sorts of Irish Whiskey, and comparing it to main Scotch and American Whiskeys. Bunratty Castle was restored by the King of England, however was again destroyed, this time by the Irish Chieftains of Thomond. Bunratty Castle was later granted to numerous Plantation families. Morrow's debut cd, Greenlight (RDC Records/Dam/Summit) (2000) was her first with French producer Frank Hagedge, understood for uncovering in addition to producing younger stars. Uncover the Kilkenny Room with its magnificent glass window overlooking the city. The O'Briens, who lived in luxurious at the Castle, have been later named Earls after pledging allegiance to the King of England. The waterfall is in two minutes' stroll from there, and some lodge rooms have a direct view of it. Kia Ora Mini Farm is ideally located simply off the Gorey Bypass and we have ample parking for buses and coaches.

[tsukifairy]

School Tours Ireland

Above all we specialize in offering unforgettable days out! Getting probably the most out of your college journey means selecting the best supplier. You can also make it simple on yourself by booking a college tour at Trabolgan, famend for offering a few of the most effective faculty tours in Ireland! Reward packs of stationery items will be put collectively in advance for visiting schools, please tell us when booking in case you would wish these to be included in your package worth. Such visits assist group leaders to properly threat assess all facets of the proposed tour in advance. So in case your club or faculty is planning a sports tour in 2019 make sure that to make Ireland your number one choice for your Easter tour. The historical past tour reflects the school curriculum and provides an additional resource for college students and teachers whilst remaining fun and interesting for all. We work with teachers and schools to provide the easiest instructional experience for teenagers and teens. Baxter returned school tours Ireland to Carrup Carrup completely in 1843. He drained much of the swamp area and started growing wheat which fetched excessive costs. How high is the Red Circuit?

Oideas Gael classes can final from a few days to a full five-week program. We tailor the problem to your class stage so everybody can benefit from the Puzzle in the Park. Whereas our media room has a state-of-the-art computer rendering of Cork Harbour the place students can take management and pilot a ship or protect Cork harbour from attack! Question, any recommendations about eating places or pubs whereas on holiday? Your journey will take you on a trip back through the colourful history of Blackrock, Cork or into the way forward for blazars, quasars and the BCO Planet Search Programme. Millstreet Nation Park is without doubt one of the leading instructional, cultural and eco-tourism destinations within the South making it the right location for educating children on geology, nature and history. Vaikato in Taupo. It is a small but luxurious resort which may serve an example of the country comfort of the "old skool".

Cork Harbour Boat Hire are delighted to welcome aboard college tours! Admission for college tours is €10.00 per student and there isn't any cost for teachers, SNA's or parents. A guide will likely be provided freed from cost for teams of more than 15 folks with an admission value of €5.50 pp. Our Tour Advisors will likely be more than happy to help you with your enquiry. After about 3 - four weeks you will note the balloon deflating and the juice changing into clear. Bring your students outdoors with Killary Adventure Co. and see what a difference a it makes. See the dock where the Titanic was constructed and the political murals on the Falls and Shankill Roads. FULL DAY: Cost from €30 - €35 pp, 10 am - three p.m (times are changeable) 5 Hours in complete & up to three actions. All activities are supported and supervised by certified professionals. Are there plenty of zip strains?

Cork Metropolis (St Finn Barre’s) Sunday Services are at 8am (Said Eucharist), eleven:15am (Choral Eucharist) and three:30pm (Choral Evensong). Regardless that the citizens of Melbourne call the city climate as '4 seasons in someday', it is a metropolis of moderate weather most of the time and Melbourne tours are at all times relaxing. Or join us on our implausible cave exploration Paddleboard tours. Down Cathedral, Downpatrick Easter Sunday at eleven:30am with Holy Communion. Christ Church, Rathgar, Dublin - EASTER Sunday at 9:30am (Sacrament of Holy Communion) and 11am (Morning Worship). This would be the Irish Life’s first stop the day they arrive in Ireland en route to Waterford. Everybody had an exquisite action stuffed day. Please keep after the service for a cup of tea/coffee and fellowship. The learning experiences acquired on the journey stay along with your students for a lifetime. Ring of Kerry is a great choice for experiences near the Irish coastline.

Guides select volunteers to take part in a whiskey comparability tasting, demonstrating the subtle difference in style between various types of Irish Whiskey, and evaluating it to main Scotch and American Whiskeys. Bunratty Castle was restored by the King of England, but was again destroyed, this time by the Irish Chieftains of Thomond. Bunratty Castle was later granted to various Plantation households. Morrow's debut cd, Greenlight (RDC Information/Dam/Summit) (2000) was her first with French producer Frank Hagedge, understood for uncovering as well as producing young stars. Uncover the Kilkenny Room with its magnificent glass window overlooking the city. The O'Briens, who lived in luxurious on the Castle, have been later named Earls after pledging allegiance to the King of England. The waterfall is in two minutes' stroll from there, and a few lodge rooms have a direct view of it. Kia Ora Mini Farm is ideally located just off the Gorey Bypass and we now have ample parking for buses and coaches.