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fortheloveofbuddie · 5 months

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Inspiration Saturday/Seven Sentence Sunday 💕

I'm baaccckk. It's been minute but I've been away with my girlfriend for nearly a week and it's exam season which means that I should be working on my paper. But here we are and I came up with yet another AU lol. Aaaand also made a moodboard for it

Tagged by @wikiangela @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @evanbegins @wildlife4life @disasterbuckdiaz mwah mwah mwah 💋

Soldier/War Correspondent AU

(Story and tags under cut)

Staff Sergeant Eddie Diaz bears the visible imprints of a life spent in the crucible of war. His sun-kissed skin and prematurely graying hair are a testament to the countless deployments and the myriad of challenges he has faced since joining the army at the age of 18. Eddie's stoic demeanor hides the depth of his experiences, and his piercing gaze reflects the proud resilience of a man who has faced the horrors of conflict yet remains committed to his duty. Despite being a decorated soldier, Eddie carries the weight of survivor's guilt, unsure if he truly deserves the accolades bestowed upon him.

The St. Christopher's medallion, a cherished possession given to him by his ex-wife, dangles from a chain around his neck, providing a glimpse into the personal talismans that anchor Eddie amidst the chaos of war. As a leader, Eddie embodies strength, resilience, and an unwavering commitment to his comrades, his very presence a testament to the sacrifices made in the name of duty.

In contrast, Evan Buckley, a 32-year-old war correspondent exudes the confidence of someone who has navigated the complexities of journalism for nearly a decade. His hard exterior and sometimes perceived arrogance stem from a deep understanding of his own capabilities and confidence earned through years of reporting from the front lines of conflict.

Despite his outward confidence, he carries the weight of the stories he has witnessed, and beneath the bravado lies a journalist deeply affected by the human cost of conflict. His journey as a war correspondent is fueled by a commitment to shedding light on the untold narratives and fostering understanding in the face of global turmoil.

And a little snippet inspired by 3 x 15 and the music video from the song 'Gone Away' by Five Finger Death Punch (my babies ahhh)

The crackling radio broke the silence in the aftermath of the ambush, blood staining Eddie's face, hands and armor. The air was acrid and filled with the smoke from the crashed helicopter, parts spread all around him on the ground, only adding to the vision of destruction. Eddie could barely lift his head to grab his radio, Command trying to break through. The realization of him and his fellow soldier, Sergeant Anita Mills, being the sole survivors of the ambush was slowly sinking in as he brought the radio closer to his face, his voice weighted with grief as he spoke into the receiver.

"Command, this is Diaz. Reporting three K.I.A. We need-... Requesting extraction from our current location. I repeat, requesting extraction and confirming three K.I.A. Chief Jennings, PFC Binder and Sergeant Norwahl are gone"

Mills looked at him with sorrowful eyes, her chest rose and fell in a strained and heavy pace, her head hung low between her knees, the weight of her armor pressing against her throat, restricting her breathing but she couldn't care less about herself in this moment.

The reply from Command crackled through the radio, the voice on the other end offering condolences laced with the stoicism of military protocol. "Acknowledged, Staff Sergeant Diaz. Our thoughts are with you and Mills. Proceed with caution, and we'll arrange for extraction once the area is secure"

He nodded solemnly, his eyes fixed on the wreckage of the helicopter, a poignant reminder of the friends he had lost in the chaos of war. Eddie and Anita found themselves grappling with the weight of confirming the loss of three lives, the echoes of grief lingering amidst the unforgiving and darkening landscape.

tagging!! @honestlydarkprincess @giddyupbuck @watchyourbuck @athenagranted @butraura @callmenewbie @cal-daisies-and-briars @jeeyuns @fionaswhvre @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @steadfastsaturnsrings @poughkeepsies @spotsandsocks 💗🦋

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 on abc #oliver stark #ryan guzman #evan buck buckley #buddie wip #edmundo diaz #fortheloveofbuddie writes #buddie fic #the sun behind the storm (can you feel my heart?)

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ryuichirou · 1 year

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hi there! first of all i wanna say i love all your works~ i found your works right after i entered the TWST fandom and it made me fall in even harder LMAO especially for lil mushroom eel man i love our lil mushroom eel man- I wanna ask though, how to you perceive Idia's interaction with the Tweels? It's always fun to see those two messing around with Idia and being intimidating for Azul's sake but I wonder how does Idia think of them in your headcanons? Is it a "run at first sight" type of relationship www have a good day!

Hi Anon! Thank you very much, it’s fantastic to hear that you love our stuff this much. I am very grateful.

Ahhh lil mushroom eel man!! This is such a cute nickname, and he is such a special boy lol, I’m happy you like him. I don’t draw the Tweels as often as I’d love to, but then again, that goes for a lot of characters… But damn it, drawing them is fun, especially with our poor popular boy Idia lol

Sooo, here is what Idia thinks about the Tweels in our headcanons! In a form of a headcanon list haha.

You’re right: in general, it definitely is “run at first sight” type of deal: Idia is a scaredy-cat in general, but with these two? He senses legit danger to his safety lol

A lot of times the Tweels harass Idia because of something Azul asked them to do, but there are times when they do it just for their own fun, and these situations are much more terrifying to Idia. Like, what do they want from him? The answer usually is to have fun. They won’t elaborate on what kind of “fun” they want to have with him.

A lot of times Idia sees the Tweels as a unit, but he is actually aware of how different these two are, and if separated, their dynamic actually changes quite a lot.

For example, Idia ended up having a surprisingly good time with Jade at Epel’s village. He didn’t expect to enjoy hanging out with him as much as he did, but they kind of bonded. A lot of times Jade would say things that would amuse Idia, like when he suggested sabotaging their opponents before the sled race. Idia was instantly on board with that, because, unlike Epel and Sebek, these two had this weird sleazy petty solidarity.

That trip also made Idia fully realise how much of a (mountain) nerd Jade is, which made him kind of relatable to a degree. Idia respects that and is actually happy that he got to know Jade better.

Idia is actually a liiiittle bummed out that they don’t get to hang out anymore after the trip, but whenever they see each other in the school and Jade smiles at him, Idia remembers that time and feels a bit fuzzy.

That being said, none of that made Jade stop teasing Idia together with Floyd, so Idia still needs to be aware of the Tweels lol

Idia is wary of the Tweels, but with Floyd he’s genuinely terrified at times. When he’s with him alone, he feels like Floyd can pounce on him at any moment: he’s too chaotic and unpredictable and god know what he’s capable of, especially when Jade and Azul aren’t around to stop him or at least get him to senses.

Idia is kind of irritated by Floyd ignoring his need for personal space, and Floyd doesn’t give a fuck about personal space: he touches Idia, he strokes his hair, sometimes even nibs on him. This makes Idia shake in horror, which only makes Floyd more playful and interested in him.

Oh, and also Idia is terrified of the fact that the Tweels know some pretty cringy personal stuff about him. He is still traumatized by that time they tried to blackmail him. The Tweels probably have already forgotten about it, but Idia haven’t…

#replies #headcanons #jadidi #floidi

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lilredghost · 9 months

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baby bestie because i read chp 14 so late im feeling like its my birthday, that i get chp 15 so early!! can i just quickly take the moment to scream about the dream scene??? all those little tells that maybe this isnt right (inception vibes). this was so brilliant

also obi's downward spiral about if anakin loves him or married himbeacuse he is an alpha IM CRYING WITH HIM OH GOD WHAT IF OBI NEVER CLAIMED HE WAS AN ALPHA AND STILL RULED OBIKIN WOULD NEVER HAVE MET PLS

Obi-Wan has had a hard time keeping his head on straight, this last week. A harder time than usual, anyway.

A side effect of all the stress, perhaps. babygirl change your suppresants pls theyre stressing you out i still dont trust komari she is maham anga's character for a reason

Anakin's hand has settled on his thigh; it grips him tight, bold and claiming, under the table.

Obi-Wan wonders if it will leave bruises.

The fingers creep closer— not further up but further in, ghosting the edge of the scent gland there— and Obi-Wan has to swallow back his arousal, trying to focus on Luminara. oh he's so jealous thisis such a good thing to read in fics but somehow such a red flag irl uk ill read any fic if it says possesive anakin

He feels like he’s back in his wedding finery, wondering why his fiancé won’t look at him.

His husband won’t look at him. i cried then for obi-wan and im crying for now poor baby had all his childhood dreams broken like sugar glass and now he knows anakin may never have married him????? i love it when u put obi-wan thru the horrors

im just gonna very casually read thru the rst of the fic again cause i simply love the writing style in this and i have creative writing hostel championship coming up so. uk. i would really like to write as well as you

(Referring to ch 15 of Their fragrance came from you)

Baby!! I had so much fun with the dream scenes honestly!! I felt so evil writing it but it was so so satisfying (summary of this whole chapter honestly). My aim with those slightly wrong things was that you wouldn't quite be able to tell if it was just Obi-Wan's unreliable narration at work (especially because he often has moments where he's caught up in something and "doesn't quite remember"/"didn't realize" something happened), or if there was actually something wrong! I also thought about having the whole dream sequence in italics, but I wanted the reader to take Obi-Wan's introspection about not being an alpha seriously.

And the repetition of things which happened in the dream, but slightly different… idk what drove me to do that, but I'm soooo happy I did. I think it adds so much flavor in showing how Obi-Wan perceives the world (or how he fears it to be) vs. how it actually is!

Ahhh the concept of Obi-Wan openly being the first omega ruler from the beginning! He would have come out sooo much less depressed 🥺🥺 (But maybe, in some ways, more stern? He has to show that he's not soft just because he's an omega, after all!) I love to think that in an AU like this, Stewjon and Tatooine still needed that mutual help so they went to make an alliance. But since there's no immediate candidate that's obvious for marriage, Tatooine doesn't write anything about marriage in their terms, hoping it will pass under the radar (it does). They settle instead on a sort of cultural exchange where Anakin will come spend some time in Jedha and then later Obi-Wan will go and visit Mos Espa. And hey, two omegas in positions of power… working closely together…. Obi-Wan gets to be Anakin's friend without jumping through all the hoops. Anakin gets to learn all about Obi-Wan's secret dreams of marriage. And then Obi-Wan's heat rolls around, and Anakin offers to help, and-- Well, the rest is history!

"babygirl change your suppresants pls theyre stressing you out i still dont trust komari she is maham anga's character for a reason" ALFKJSDLKFJSKJ THE WAY I CACKLED. She IS maham anga's character for a reason, but not this reason!!

The grade of suppressants Obi-Wan is taking are only meant to be used in the short term (a few years, with medically scheduled heats once or twice a year) in cases where it's not safe for an omega to be having heats. Otherwise, he should be taking regular-strength suppressants (with that same caveat of medically scheduled heats once or twice a year, along with a full detox every five or so years).

But uh. He's been taking them for twenty years. One medical heat a year, to mimic an alpha's biorhythm. No detoxes. It's a wonder his suppressants hadn't failed up until this point already. On top of all that is the new stimulation that he's getting from Anakin, which has his body trying to react like an omega (like Anakin's mate!!) and so it's also actively fighting through the suppressants rn. They're definitely failing, but they're failing slowly enough that he hasn't noticed. ((Also the idea that they'd fail is so inconceivable to him…. he's definitely not a doctor, lol))

I get you on the jealousy honestly I would HATE if someone did that irl but I'm such a fucking sucker for it in fiction. Anakin will cool down about it once he feels more secure, but I feel like it's necessary for his character to go through that development rather than being chill about Luminara from the get-go.

"poor baby had all his childhood dreams broken like sugar glass" LITERALLY 😭😭 I wrote a post a while back about how Obi-Wan didn't want to tell Anakin about his designation yet because he was too afraid of losing him. But now (he thinks) he's lost Anakin already!!

Luckily, Anakin will convince him that he wants to stay. So yes I'm putting Obi-Wan through the horrors, but. Ultimately it's so that he can heal and move on

And I'm so happy you like my writing style, I think it's really grown into itself (and grown on me, too) over the course of the fic! Good luck on your writing competition -- I'm sure you'll do well 💖💖

#this chapter was a delight honestly #it wasn't easy to write but I'm very happy #now I just have to resolve it in an equally satisfying way!#asks #imjusttoofunky #emperor obi-wan au #also I wrote this at 2am and queued it so please forgive any mistakes

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diyunho · 4 years

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The Joker x Reader - The Delta Paradox. Chapter 1: Deceit

Rumor is the outbreak spreading like fire around the world is somehow Dr. Morbius’ fault: people turned into monsters after getting bitten by the ones already ravaged beyond the irreversible mutation. The last news broadcasted four months ago suggested not all creatures are mindless beasts, a few might still remember who they are and The Joker is about to find out if the story is true.

“Dad…” you whisper and point at the box on the shelves. “I found some peas.”

The Joker turns around and silently walks your way, signaling you to fill up your backpack while he patiently waits for his turn.

The King of Gotham and his 23 year old daughter are scavenging the convenience store on Halsey Street for supplies: food was running low and they had to come out of the bunker in order to acquire basic necessities.

It’s hard to see in the darkness with the tiniest flashlight since they can’t risk being detected.

“Did you find water?” you mumble under your breath.

“No.”

“Dammit, we only have six bottles left,” you sigh, upset at his disclosure. “Should we raid the mall too?”

The Joker covers your mouth, carefully listening.

You can’t discern much until an unnerving screech echoes in the air followed by others in the next second.

“Ssstttt,” J removes the restrain and you clutch to his arm, scared to death.

“Dad…”, you gulp at the commotion happening in the distance: the creatures are probably hunting and you are not willing to become the prey.

“What do we do?” you barely utter and The Clown shakes his head, worried.

“Let’s use the sewers entrance by the dumpster to make it passed the dangerous radius; it’s still open from last time we were here.”

“Ok…” Y/N quietly agrees.

J adds the rest of the containers to his rucksack and lifts it up when he accidentally knocks off a light bulb: the fragile glass shatters to pieces and the two of you stare at each other terrified for a few moments.

The turmoil outside immediately intensifies as The Joker urges:

“Run!”

The panicked Y/N follows her father and she can’t even hear what he’s saying over the deafening roars that seem to come from above the building. Suddenly, the mad man turns and gives you a violent push against the loading dock exit; it’s so unexpected you stumble and before you have the possibility to process what’s going on, J locks it.

“Dad?!” your eyes pop at the small, broken window just to distinguish him backing away. “Dad?!” you start crying. “What are you doing?! Let me in!” The Princess pleads with her parent.

The Joker bites his lip, conflicted at his desire to survive no matter the cost: even if the price to pay is his own daughter.

“Daddy?!” Y/N sobs, petrified at his behavior. “Please?...”

“Better you than me,” he grumbles and runs in the opposite direction, covering his ears when your screams reach him. J rushes out of the shop and drops in the sewer, three monsters already on his trail attempting to grab him; yet they fail because thankfully these beasts are so much larger than the humans they used to be: they can’t fit through the narrow gap The Joker used.

Your father keeps navigating the convoluted catacombs in the darkness while the dim flashlight fails to warn him of the obstacle floating in front of him. He staggers on the dead dog and plunges in the disgusting waters, instantly resurfacing after the initial shock of how bad it stinks. J crawls to near the concrete wall, panting up a storm succeeding the whole ordeal and it hits him: Y/N didn’t pursue.

How could she? The Clown sacrificed his daughter in order to save himself and her agony still resonate in his mind. She was brutally ambushed without any chance of escaping her fate: The Joker made sure of that when he forced her out of the mini-market.

The same daughter that came back for him at the Penthouse when it was clear things are going downhill - no other gang member ever returned; the same daughter that accompanied him in their perilous searching trips as it all went to shit; the same daughter that took care of him when he got sick in the bunker and risked her life in order to bring her father antibiotics; the same daughter that was the only family he had left on this God forsaken planet.

And now she’s gone.

The Joker is all alone like he was always meant to be: nothing can withstand his poison.

**************

8 Months Later

The King of Gotham sneaks in the blackness with precious cargo: tonight was a lucky one. He found soda, crackers and peanuts at a vending machine inside the mall. The road to the bunker is not a short one and he has to be alert; food is scarce and each time he has to venture further and further to find needed items which is why he’s still roaming at this late hour.

Surprisingly calm atmosphere in this neighborhood; J saw a lot of creatures on McCormick Avenue and then an infested Main Boulevard made him backtrack and take this path. It was the correct call because his progress has been steady: moving in shadows has developed into a skillful talent.

He abruptly stops noticing movement blocking his route West of 5th Street. The Joker had no idea it’s swarming with the infected also.

J barely notices something splattering at his feet and freezes: it’s difficult to discern what it is but he has a vague concept. He looks up only to see one of the winged scouts landing on the broken light pole whilst drooling and sniffing the air. The Joker’s body is stiff, his senses sharpened to the maximum: what is he supposed to do? Try to leave? That’s an enormous risk and motion could unleash a chain reaction among the beasts if the one above identifies the helpless individual. Stay? The threat would be equally menacing.

The high pitch snarl belched by the demon’s throat makes him inhale in fear: was he spotted? Or is this merely a power display from the crazed predator?

The Joker feels there’s something behind him and before he can act a sharp pain in his forearm makes him yell. Another bite in his leg makes him lose balance and he collapses to the ground, unable to defend himself from the hoard. The burning sensation is taking over completely: the creatures tear his flesh apart and he passes out without having the strength to shout for help anymore.

*************

The Clown opens his eyes and rapidly blinks since the sunlight is hard to endure.

“Ugh…” he groans and rolls on his side on the concrete pavement.

Everything hurts, including the brain: it’s as if someone drilled holes and he can’t concentrate or form thoughts.

He aims to lift his torso off the walkway unsure why it’s strenuous to accomplish such a simple task; J doesn’t register the reason why is the different anatomy he now has: scaly, gray skin, long, distorted arms with sharp claws, inverted knees and membranous toes. The wings certainly don’t add to his ability to sport the same agility he was blessed with while still a person.

He finally manages to gather himself up, surprised to experience an odd sensation: The Joker is so much taller after his mutation and everything crushes down once the hideous reflection shown in the partially broken glass belonging to “Macy’s” department store glares back at him.

“Ahhh!” J blurs out alongside an uncanny roar emerging from his transmuted vocal cords. The frantic sound gets the attention of beasts in his vicinity, then they ignore him because he’s one of them.

“Fuck…” he mumbles in disbelief at their reaction, grateful they didn’t attack.

The Joker’s raspy breath scores big with a creature nearby though.

Apparently a female due to her red orbs, she’s approaching the former human with a certain restrain.

The Joker would love to bail: unless he can control the horror of what’s happening to him in a few moments, he might get out of there in one piece.

The curious monster is inches away and J had nothing better to do than articulate:

“… Do you… understand me?”

“Grrrrrrr…” the female sneers, unraveling her fangs.

“Y/N… is that…is that you?” The Joker tosses the question out there for the lack of a better plan.

No answer, just a low howl that makes a few males digging in rubble unhappy: why is the group’s favorite displaying interest in the newcomer?

They shriek and emerge more and more agitated, drawing the attention of others in the proximity. The displeased attitude seems to elevate the mood in a negative direction to the point of having a large flock landing on the same street too.

“Crap…” The Joker assesses his situation and it’s not good. “Shoo!” he gently gives the female a nudge and she coos as her distorted fingers touch his grotesque face. Nevertheless, her gesture unlocks the gates of hell: the female’s keen dart towards the unfortunate Clown with the sole purpose of finishing him off. Competition is not tolerated from a rookie and that’s how The Joker is perceived by the mindless crowd--a threat to the hierarchy.

A loud, eerie scream covering all others makes the murderous bunch halt in their tracks: a humongous female leading the group that arrived moments ago is making them retreat. She keeps shoving them and growling while followed by a huge specimen: definitely The Alpha Male with his yellow eyes and dominant figure that don’t allow disobedience.

The party showing The Joker affection gives up on her advances as you stand in front of your father, not necessarily excited about the encounter.

“Dad?...” you smell the air out of habit.

“… … Y… Y/N?... …” The Joker stammers at the inexplicable revelation. “You… You’re alive??!!”

“If you consider this being alive.”

“Delta, we have to go soon!” one of your fighters announces. “They might snap again!”

Your parent is baffled and you bother to enlighten him a bit:

“I’m part of a coven made of turned humans still self-aware. You’re lucky we flew by and saw you. I felt you were born but I didn’t know it was you until I sniffed you. I wished I knew so I won’t waste my time!!!!” the bitter statement brings to life past memories. “Let’s go!” you raise your voice.

“We’re not taking him with us?!” The Alpha Male inquires, baffled. “He’s self -aware!”

“Trust me, we don’t need someone like him amidst us!” you spread your wings and prepare to fly.

“Y/N… “ The Joker gulps. “Can I come?... Please?... I don’t want to die here.”

Y/N ignores his plea and angrily replies:

“Better you than me!”

How can he justify his behavior in these circumstances? It’s impossible to request forgiveness when you’re at an obvious loss regarding your daughter.

“I’m sorry I did what I did, ok… Pumpkin?”

“I am NOT your Pumpkin!! I am Delta!!!” Y/N mutters.

“Huh?” the clueless King inquires and your obvious disapproval suggests you hate where the conversation is headed.

“Delta is more valuable than any of us and we must protect her at all costs until we find Morbius,” one of your companions gives away details you don’t care your father knowing about. “She can do incredible…”

“Enough!!” you cut him off. “We’re leaving!”

“What… what things?...” The Joker attempts to distract you from the imminent departure.

“None of your business!” you float in the air, the other 40 sets of wings following you while he is left behind with the horde that made him an outcast: brainless monsters already clustering around once more in order to punish his transgression.

“Hey!!!” The Alpha Male glides on top of The Joker. “Delta said you can come!”

“Really?” hope flourishes in his heart.

“Hurry up before they shred you to pieces!”

“I don’t know how to fly!” J shouts.

“Don’t be an idiot! Move your shoulder blades!”

Your father would normally go ballistic at such affront but he actually ignores the disrespectful sentence due to the insane events leading to today’s reunion.

What other choice does he have besides taking advantage of this unique opportunity?

The Joker clumsily bumps into a trash bin and finally ascends towards the blue skies trying to keep up with the flock.

His daughter might be a mystery now but one thing is undeniable: he would rather suffer a thousand deaths before abandoning her again.

Also read: Masterlist

https://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

You can also follow me on Ao3 and wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #morbiusxreader #morbius fanfiction #morbius imagine #jokerleto #the joker suicide squad #the joker jared leto #joker fanfiction #joker imagines #joker #mister j #dc #dcu

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sukisdeliveryservice · 3 years

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you've got two hints down! i am in fact malaysian and also a writer :D i speak english, chinese and malay, but also hokkien and cantonese as well!

hmm some facts about me, my nose is rly sensitive, the slightest temperature change clogs it up ;-; im allergic to cats, but i love my cat to pieces. i am a fan of the sitcom friends, the mcu, and the conjureverse. i really love horror movies but i haven't watched any good ones lately :/ i also love the netflix series new amsterdam, but the new season isnt out yet 😔 that being said, are there any specific genre of movies that you enjoy?

also, your seventeen merch are all so pretty, especially fallin flower's <3 i wanna get some stuff in the future too :)

i also read your wonwoo fic! it was so cute 😭 the part where won accuses reader that they were going to wait until morning to say anything is stuck in my head i dont know why djdjdjjd but it was really adorable 💕 the way reader has stuff as his place and the hoodie stealing </3 its a million degrees in malaysia so you rarely see ppl stealing hoodies but its just so cute :(

besides bingsu, what are your favourite foods? also, what inspired you to become a writer?

- 💎

i'm so sorry carat anon i'm gonna be working 11-7 all week my replies are gonna be all over the place 😭 but hello!! how are you doing? don't feel compelled to read all this i just bolded some questions heh

i admire you soso much for being able to speak different languages omg i think it's a skill that is highly glossed over you are AMAZING FOR THAT!!! 5 languages is so impressive!! i'm so happy for you anon!!

ah i love these facts about yourself!! how did you feel about the friends reunion? what's your favoruite mcu film? i personally love the spiderman movies above all, they just have the charm that i really enjoy. conjureverse??? that sounds scary LOL ooh i've heard about new amsterdam!! would you rec it?

i mainly enjoy animated films heh,,, or ones that are cute and charming like the spiderman ones dkkfdjksf but ghibli films and films that kind of make you really aware of the world are nice too?? YOUR NAME OH MY GOODNESS I REC THAT FILM SO HARD and the ones that make you appreicate the little things in life and the ones that also make you wanna run out and scream about the world?? if that makes ANY sense to you i'm rambling sorry gkfdgkldfjl what kind of genre do you enjoy?

hehe ty!! if you ever decide lmk which ones!! i'd love to see your collection grow <3

AHHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED THE FIC AWWW the little banter was my favourite part too!! once i find your url i would love to read some of your works too!! what inspires you to write and why did you become a writer?

besides bingsu...hmm i like you know when they serve food on those hot plates?? like you have beef and rice and a sauce and it cooks on the hot plate? there's like a place here called flaming kitchen that serves it and another one called pepper lunch in the philippines that has something similar!! what foods do you like? i also like bulgogi, katsudon, kimchi, fish congee, ramen...i suddenly forgot what i like eating

ahhh i don't want this to be too long but honestly speaking: reading other people's works really inspired me to create something of my own!! i've met so many amazing and talented people on here and i think being a writer is such a personal thing? sometimes you're basically expressing the way you perceive the world and seeing the way other people do is so meaningful to me and i would love to do the same :)) i'm a writer(ish) and i don't really know how to put into words about why i love it and the community so much :((

sorry this is long anon!! i'll try my best to keep it short next time :(( but your questions are just so lovely, have an amazing day!!

#💎#love & letter 💌

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wincore · 3 years

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AGREEEE, WORKING OVER THE WEEKEND IS THE WORST esp since im in uni full time and i work 9-5 on the weekends which means... no breaks for me ever.. 🥲

MASSIVE CRUSH ON OIKAWA OMGGG I SUPPORT THIS!!!!! but i am unfortunately much older than 15 and still enamored by 2d men 😔 life’s rough like that HDJWKDJ YES ATSUMU CAUSES PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE.. HES THE WORST!! btw.. ive heard that the oikawa to atsumu stan pipeline is very real... so if u get to s4.. u may develop atsumu brain rot like me 👁_👁

OOO alright run on, extracurricular, vincenzo, true beauty, love alarm, & perfect crime. NOTED!! ive actually been meaning to watch extracurricular for a while now, it looks so interesting!! now that it has the wincore seal of approval i must watch 😤 OMGG SAKURADA DORI I SAW HIM IN ALICE IN BORDERLAND!! super good show but really gore heavy at some points 👁

ahh ok thank u for the reccs, ive been thinking about starting demon slayer too!! shoplifters sounds really interesting :oo crime??? i havent watched a full movie in a while so i will def check it out!! THESE R ALL GOING IN MY NOTES APP.

NEXT YEARRR omg it sounds far away but i know time passes so quickly nowadays so I WILL WISH U LUCK ONCE AGAIN 💛 i hope u update us when the time comes!!

UGHWHHD EVEN THIS SYNOPSIS IS MAKING ME MISS UR WRITING?!? I LOVE THE WAY U WORD IT... “given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear” AHHHHHHH omg “he’s in a relationship and doesn’t rlly care about the soulmate system” THIS IS ALWAYS SUCH A PAINFUL SCENARIO IN SOULMATE AUS PLSS!!! Wait is the soulmate of yn gonna be an oc/vague character or another member :O EITHER WAY... PAIN! THIS IS GETTING ME SO EXCITED AND U HAVENT EVEN MENTIONED ANYTHING ABOUT WHAT JAEHYUN’S LIKE IN THIS FIC YET

RUNWAY CHARACTER CAMEOOOS YESS I LOVE RUNWAY YN!!!! i actually reread it last night and ugh i was reminded how much i love yns personality... just the process of experiencing all tht self doubt with them!!! so real & makes u root for them :’)

“if jeno plays edward i need him to that apple scene like taemin did” WHHHHHWJDJJWJDBW THIS MADE ME CHOKE ON THE WATER I WAS DRINKING LMFAO

GODDDD THESE TROPE/MEMBER PAIRINGS, HARD AGREE HARD AGREE!!! HAECHAN AND RENJUN ARE E2L 100%!!!! i think bc the ppl in the bff2l category cant convincingly hate yn back LOL

“gets complimented on his lyricism often but like every song’s about you” STOPPPPP HES SO PERFDCT FOR THIS TROPE!!!!!

OMG I SEE EXACTLY WHAT U MEAN ABT SICHENG IN ROYALTY/CHAEBOL AUS... i think like u said it’s because of his poise & the way ppl are generally in awe of him but also bc of his reluctance to open up!! more reserved until he trusts u... funny and kind but sometimes perceived as aloof... those r some prince tendencies! “what are corporate businesses but modern day kingdoms” LMFAOOWJDJ SERIOUSLY THO

“mans really said i will not give you any onscreen idol personality to work with” HDJWJDJWJSJ LITERALLYYYY this is why i have trouble reading jaehyun fics sometimes bc sometimes they can feel “inaccurate” but its mostly just bc there’s no Standard Personality Stereotype to go off of. but a random & uncommon trope i think he’d pair well with is exes to lovers!! Yes im basically just a jaehyun + angst advocate.

“i think most of them would pair well with bff2l??” FACTTTTTTT and no im not just saying this bc its one of my favorite tropes.. heh... i think i told u this before?? but ur like the main reason i started enjoying e2l!!! i didnt like it before bc i love the PINING in bff2l but then i started reading ur works n was like OH SHIT! THERES LOADS OF PINING HERE TOO...

i think yangyang is not bff2l or e2l, he is in his own category which is Annoyer2Lover HDJWKDJ ex: troublemaker, wasted nights

OMGGGG I DID NOT EXPECT ROYALTY AU TO HAVE SUCH A LARGE LEAD IN THE SURVEY??? and cryptids is so low 😔😔 cmon guys, vampires r fun!!!

WE R LITERALLY WRITING ESSAYS TO EACH OTHER RN BUT I LOVE IT 🥺🥺 its a such a nice break to read ur response when im burnt out from studying!!

OMG IM GOING THROUGH #moonwrites AND IM LITERALLY AN IDIOTTTT IVE BEEN OFF TUMBLR FOR SO LONG I DIDNT REALIZE THAT ROMEO ROULETTE HAD A PREVIEW OUT????

“And I get what out of this?” “Me?” IM IN LOVE WITH THIS CHARACTERS PERSONALITY ALREADY LMFAOO

“—and when this whole game you’re playing is over, you’re going to say I rejected you.” ?!?!???? THE WAY JAEHYUN IS A LITTLE SHIT! THEIR PERSONALITIES ARE BOTH SO FUN PLSJWJDJEJ IM MORE EXCITED NOW!!

pls disregard the part in my last ask where i asked abt romeo roulette.... i had no idea all of the information i needed was sitting right in front of me 😔😔

- tata

WHAT 9 TO 5 ON EVERY WEEKEND???? the system has failed you this honestly feels like a villain origin story 😭 when does it get better???

ALSO let me answer the other asks separately for better readability lol we really out here writing essays GOOD THING i have practice writing but like. this is infinitely better to write 🥰

PLSSS SOMETIMES I WILL SEE AN EDIT/TIKTOK OF OIKAWA AND BE LIKE DAMN I REALLY NEED TO CATCH UP I MISS THIS MF also are you daring me to ruin my life for 2d men bc i will do it without hesitation. wait till i watch hq again and get that atsumu brainrot with you he seems annoying enough for me to like ^_^

AND YES PLS I WAS SO ABSORBED IN IT!! extracurricular was the most gripping show i’ve watched in a while like yes enough teen romance give me two unhinged teenagers doing crime 🤩 AND OMG??? THAT’S WHERE WE SAW HIM TOO and although niragi was literally vomit-inducing human trash, sakurada dori is like. a good actor. except i hated coffee&vanilla which starred him it was literally so cringe i couldn’t 😭 i blame the writers for that though. IM EXCITED FOR S2 OF ALICE IN BORDERLAND THO i really like horror (and i can tolerate gore if ive been desensitized enough) and like i read the manga too!!! the games were really interesting (although morbid).

😭😭 MY NOTES APP IS FULL OF RECS FROM FRIENDS ALL OF THEM HATE ME FOR NOT WATCHING THE SHOWS BUT LIKE. i binge 3 or 4 at a time and strike them off and then go 6 months without watching a single tv series hhh.

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I SURE WILL UPDATE !!! it’s so exciting to think about grad school sometimes :33

AHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT AND THE PREVIEW TOO SGSDJKDS there’s a few differences in the actual fic i think bc i changed up the language (and i dont remember what else bc i refuse to look at my writing) JAEHYUN RLLY IS A LITTLE SHIT he’ll be like hm yeah im pretty chill :) and then proceed to beat yn at her own game at times. (she wins mostly dw) the fact that i made her soulmate cha eunwoo like girl if i were you i’d crash their relationship 🥱 (jk) but like. jaehyun too is 🤩 despite being dry af

ASDKDSKDS YOU REREAD ALL (ALMOST) 19K WORDS ??? IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THAT FIC SM AAAAHHH IM FEELING LIKE AN ACTUAL AUTHOR 🥰 i loved runway yn too they were like boss attitude with 20% anxiety.

LOOK JENO BETTER BE PULLING MOVES LIKE THAT TO IMPRESS THE GIRLS 😤 if he hits himself in the forehead with the apple, bonus points bc that was true comedy (as invented by taemin)

AND YES. LIKE I KNOW MARK HATED DONGHYUCK SO MUCH HE WANTED TO LEAVE SM BUT LIKE HE’S TOO NICE WITH EVERYONE ELSE 😭😭😭 i cannot picture him pissed off apart from that summer fight </3

thinking about dejun getting rejected by a girl he wrote a song for. rip brother.

IM GLAD YOU PUT THAT INTO WORDS BC THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT IS!!! he’s got all of these regal qualities but he’s still human ykyk so it makes for the most amiable person on earth 😌 i love this characterization of him!!

oof exes to lovers with jaehyun... i had a similar idea a while ago (with theme song sincerity is scary by the 1975) that i discarded bc i don’t think i’m cut out to write that 😭 (YET) so i will keep this is mind. u r so right about jaehyun feeling inaccurate bc it’s like he’s very mild in personality onscreen sometimes?? so him having strong personality traits makes me go 🤔🤔 that man is overreacting. (jkjk but like you get the idea)

WAIT RLLY OMG BC OF ME???? i would never enjoy e2l irl bc irl dudes are 🤢🤢 and if they annoy me i will end them. but in fiction the mutual pining and initial disgust at yourself for liking the other??? helllooo 🤩🤩🤩 especially if it’s in a romcom style <3 bff2l is also better in fiction bc if the relationship doesnt work out irl and the person become uncomfortable with me i will just get annoyed jskshdl

LMAO YOU ARE SO RIGHT ABOUT YANGYANG HE’S JUST THAT™ DUDE skgkhs he feels like someone fun to hang out with but he would annoy you the whole time. also he is cute 🥰

AND EXACTLY!!!! IM HAPPY FOR ROYALTY AUS BUT CMON. LOOK AT THOSE VAMPIRE TEETH. feel like media ruined vampires for people 😔

THIS IS SUCH A NICE BREAK FROM STUDYING HONESTLY!!!! im like working on two semi-large projects AND studying course and out-of-course material simultaneously so my brain is a little fried. thank u for this 😘

#tata 💖#anon #answered

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neni-has-ascended · 7 years

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What are your thoughts about Marie from P4G? She seems to a contrversy in the fandom so I would like to know your opinion about her and her role in the game.

Ahhh, to Marie or not to Marie. The old song and dance of love, betrayal and the fandom ripping each other’s heads off in the neverending cycle of waifu wars.

To give you my take on the issue:

Short Version: I like the character. A lot. Love her, even.

Long Version:

When I first played Persona 4 and was made aware of the fact that “The Golden” had some additional content I had no chance to experience yet, I was fully prepared to hate her. What I saw go around in the Fandom were horror stories of badly written dialogue, character derailing escapades and a character who has no business being there taking over the entire narrative. Additionally, I wasn’t really sold on her design, since her fashion style seemed pretty badly out of place for P4. So that’s what I went in expecting. A one-note plot device character who’d make my experience worse for it.

Then I actually played P4G and realized that absolutely nothing of what I’d heard was true. Instead of the “obnoxious Tsundere Mary-Sue” I was warned of, I was greeted by a very well-woven in story about a lost girl trying to deny her own loneliness and confusion by distracting herself with the material world and channeling her emotions into secret writings. In many ways a typical teenager, but the way she acts isn’t romanticized at all. It’s ridiculed where it deserves to be ridiculed and treated seriously where it deserves to be treated as such. At no point is she framed as some great, romantic “ARTEEEST” whose suffering makes her a bigger person. She’s just somebody desperately trying to not feel lost. Everything she does, having the protagonist take her out, her stance on consumerism (which she seems to embrace), her constant boredom and impatience, and her poems are symptomatic of how desperately she wants to *not* talk about her real issues that are making her hurt, simply because she doesn’t know how to talk about them. That is, of course, because she’s actually a fragment of Izanami which once rebelled against the goddesses’ corrupted desires and was cast out for it, now resigned to forgetting about its own ideals, which adds a whole layer more to the character. She’s the embodiment of a desire for people’s most honest, sincere wishes to come true, but since Izanami has abandoned her, she can no longer believe in the very ideal that makes her up, hence why she’s so resigned to materialism and living out her own desires only in secret. Additionally, the fact that she’s not actually human makes it hard for her to understand human social norms (just how Izanami doesn’t actually understand humans either), so she often acts terribly out-of line, which is where we get the “Tsundere Archetype” accusations from. However, unlike most cases, Marie is actually a GOOD execution of that character archetype: Not only is her “Tsundere-ness” not just an expression of embarrassment towards a guy she has a crush on (she acts like that towards EVERYONE, not just him), she also has damn good reasons to act like that, since she never actually learned about social guidelines.

Still, I am not surprised the fandom is often as opposed to her as they seem to be. As soon as I’d decided that I actually really like Marie, I felt immediately reminded of the exact same thing happening with a character in another fandom I am big on: Xion from Kingdom Hearts received pretty much the exact same cold initial reception from the fandom as Marie did. And that even though in character analyses she tended to be called a “very good character”.

Of course, the parallels between the cases are immediately visible: Both characters are black haired girls who were added to their respective games in retrospect by the way of expansions to the stories, turn out to be deeply important to the story and lore the players have cared about ever since before they knew this character exist, also turn out to be intrinsically connected to an important canon character, and their absence from the initial release ends up being explained with “All memories of them were destroyed when they died, BUT you now have a chance undo that!!!!”. They are perceived as somehow acting as a “forced love interest” towards a major character.

It’s pretty clear how a character like that would irk players, who might already have invested hours and hours into doing fanwork and crafting fan-theories that do not involve said character. It can be extremely frustrating to have your image of canon foiled like that by a retroactive update to the narrative. However, in both cases I think the kneejerk reactions were actually greatly overstated:

Even though both, Xion and Marie, change something about the lore they were introduced to, the changes are not so great as one couldn’t accommodate for them with ease, a love-relationship with a main character is only implied as a possibility in both cases (In fact, with Marie you can deny taking her down a lover’s route, just like you can with any other character, and with Xion I’d argue it isn’t there at all outside of Axel’s overinterpretation; Xion and Roxas’ relationship seemed strictly platonic or brother-sisterly to me) and, again, timelines where the characters have been erased from existence still exist in both cases, so if you really don’t want to involve them, you can still set your fanwork within those timeframes/timelines.

If anything, I see Marie’s - and by extension, Xion’s - case as a cautionary tale for writers as to what kind of violent reactions to expect from your audience if you decide to introduce important elements retroactively, as to opposed to putting them into the story right away. No matter how well done those elements are, there will be fans who just can’t find it in them to accommodate to that sudden change in the lore. That’s just how it is.

#Neni Replies #Persona 4 #Kingdom Hearts #Marie (Persona 4)#Xion #Neni Theory #extrosexytrollingpolice

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atwistedoldfriend · 7 years

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Hungry Like the Wolf || Fenrir & Evan|| September 1977

Location: Abandoned Cottage Time: Sometime after 10:00 PM There was something enchanting about a young woman caught in the throws of terror. The sobbing was nearly non-existent now, though her countenance remained warped into an agonized cry. He thought of all the primping women did to hide their flaws and wrinkles, and yet here, in the darkness of his private little workroom he got to see what they were really like. He’d heard it all. People who perceived themselves as good and tried to bargain for his soul, offering some futile hope to restore him. Others tried to play along, but the pain soon wore them down too.

Women though—Evan smiled, prowling about his victim slowly. Women brought an entirely new dimension of desperation to his art. They offered their bodies, pleaded for their children, and made him promises they could never keep. He’d even had one woman offer to be his mother, misguidedly assuming his behavior was born out of some sort of abandonment issue. Sex didn’t normally feature in his little games, but he’d made an exception for her. In general men just tried to prove how tough they were, or tried to terrify him. For those that were too cowardly to try that, they just whimpered and pleaded, reminding him of the mewling kittens his mother had given him for his eight birthday.

No matter who it was…Evan enjoyed all of them, and the girl in front of him was no different.

“Please…”

Ahhh…they’d reached the bargaining stage. He’d wondered if that last cruciatus curse would be the breaking point for her. He slid closer, ducking his head so that he could breathe in her fear tainted scent. “Please what?” He purred, dragging his wand along the curve of her waist and hip.

“I-I’ll do anything.” She gulped for air, her body jerking as it convulsed beneath the fiery course of his wand.

“Anything?” Evan taunted, green eyes flashing with malicious enjoyment. “That is quite the offer pet.” He caught her chin, lifting it so that he could stare down into her face. “Especially considering I could make you do anything I wanted.” She shook her head, her expression surprisingly mulish. “You don’t think so?”

He smirked, releasing her bonds with a flick of his wand. By the time she’d hit her knees he’d already cast the imperius curse and he was commanding her to tilt her head back so he could see her eyes. He wanted to revel in the horror he knew would exist in the depths of her soft doe eyes. Had he been thinking beyond the drunken high of proving she was completely at his mercy, he never would have released her feet, but such was not the case. He’d just lifted her to her back to her feet when the sharp burn seared his forearm. The Dark Lord had only ever called him once, and the pain of that call was just as riveting now as it had been then.

The girl, released from the spell by his sudden distraction (and clearly not as beaten as he’d assumed), sprang into action, hurtling her tiny form forward into his. His heel snagged on an uneven flagstone and he toppled back, dropping his wand. Scrabbling from his body, the girl charged toward the small window at the back of the room, slamming a fest into it, obviously more bent on getting out than anything else. Evan wasn’t about to let that happen though. Clambering back up, he charged for her, throwing himself at her dangling form and hauling her back down with a snarled oath of fury.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, excitement making his blood sing with the unexpected thrill. No one had ever tried to escape before. However the girl wasn’t done fighting. Twisting with a wild shriek against his hold, she grabbed a shard of glass and stabbed wildly. He was so startled by the abrupt pain as glass shredded through muscle and tendon that he shouted, releasing her to grab at his leg.

That was all his victim needed.

By the time he’d ripped the glass out and regained his feet, she’d managed to wiggle through that small opening and was disappearing into the darkened forest beyond his abandoned little cottage. Swearing profusely, Evan hobbled back to where he’d dropped his wand, sweeping it up furiously. He quickly bandaged his wound, but he didn’t have time to actually spend energy healing it. So as soon as the blood was stymied he ripped out of the cottage, but it was dark and he was no tracker. The odds of finding her were slim, even if she didn’t have her wand.

He glanced down at his forearm, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Maybe the answer to his dilemma also resided within the cause. He considered the line of trees lit only by the silvery light of the moon, and a slow grin curved his lips. Maybe this could be an opportunity after all. Curling his hand tighter about his wand, he apparated.

Forty-Five Minutes Later

The meeting had been brief for those that had no true importance in the Dark Lord’s eye (something Evan did not mind). He’d just begun to think he was going to have to devise another plan (or worse look for her on his own) when he spied the Fenrir’s hulking form. Moving farther from the group of dispersing death eaters, he signaled the werewolf and waited calmly in the shadows to see if the wolf was interested or if he was just going to ignore him. He knew either was a possibility, though he was hoping for the first.

As much as he disliked being indebted, the werewolf was far more likely to catch his runaway pet than he was. When the big man finally reached him, he inclined his head slightly in a greeting of respect. He knew that the purebloods tended to disregard the wolf, but Evan had never put stock in that particular belief. Fenrir was a natural predator with a skill and cunning most of their ranks would be hard pressed to match.

“Mr. Greyback, I wish to seek your assistance for a rather…delicate issue in which time is of the essence.” He glanced at the disappearing cloaked figures, none of whom he was interested in sharing his habits with, and then focused on the man once again.

#Hungry Like the Wolf #para Fenrir Greyback #September 1977 #mankibble

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fuelgrannie · 4 years

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Child of God

I have very controversial views of Jesus Christ, at least to Christians. I was raised in the Catholic faith and can thus attest to having played in the Jesus-as-God pool. I do believe Jesus existed and was an extraordinary bright, curious and loving mortal, but I do not believe he was a god nor in a god’s direct bloodline (because gods have no form, no blood, no sperm). But I do believe a higher force, God, exists.

I came to believe Jesus was mortal very early on in my life by a combo of logic and gut. This doesn’t mean I’m right. This just means I never bought into the idea that a couple thousand years ago a virgin gave birth to the lone valid god of all humankind. This belief in me has never wavered.

In my college Byzantine and Christian art history classes, I learned the Bible was edited in the 4th Century by the Council of Nicaea (a bunch of bishops and Roman Emperor Constantine at the latter’s lake house) so to exclude the years of Jesus’ life from age 7 to 32 when Jesus had traveled the world to learn about as many religions and forms of faith he could find and study. Decades of this trek, decades of this personality’s life and record of what he learned, were promptly and permanently erased from the primary tome of the Christian church.

By the fluke that I loved the teacher, I was in this particular art history class to learn potential confirmation of something I had long suspected: a more complete and full story of Jesus Christ, his travels and studies, perchance even his own attesting to his human mortality, may have been purposefully kept from public knowledge by the church itself.

The Council of Nicaea in AD 325 also decreed that the Bible universally refer to Jesus as the actual son of God, eliminating the concept and possibility that Jesus may have preached all humans were children of God, not just him. I’m not the only one to wonder or even suppose Jesus meant being a child of god was a universal concept, not just his sole status, so the Council of Nicaea deliberately set in stone for all forthcoming editions of the Bible that Jesus meant to refer to himself alone when referencing being a child of God; he more solidly and literally became the son of God.

It is not just my own supposition that Jesus never directly said, “I am the son of God and you are not.” He was known to have said that we were all God and that God was in all of us. Only an unresolved douchebag would land on this planet and say essentially, “I am better than you all, I am the son of an almighty power and you need to follow me,” yet that still happens from time to time when someone tries to pull off a second coming and pretends to be the reincarnation of Jesus Christ. These people are nothing unless, and until, they are believed (and then the trouble starts: “hey, is it me or does this Kool-Aid taste bitter?”), but, as of yet, none have proven to be Jesus, who has made only one earthly appearance so far. Still, what Jesus lectured, the word he tried to spread, was made foggy by the spreaders, the editors of his very lectures: it’s hard for me to trust what’s left. The Council of Nicaea had its own intentions: as previous empires declined in power, the rising popularity of this new Christian religion had become a critical tool for human leaders. Emperor Constantine recognized the power of unifying his people, perhaps with more than a whiff of fear, to keep his own flock in check.

There are very few versions of the Bible to be found that originated before the Council of Nicaea and they are certainly not in English, a language whose long, clumsy unearthing is centuries yet to come. No one talks about the Council of Nicaea anymore, but some people will tell you exactly who they think God is, as if they know. They’ll tell you Jesus Christ is the son of God. They’ll be sure they’re right. They’ll pray for your soul because they’re sure they’re right.

Glory

One night in the mid-1990s, I was up very late with the TV on, and instead of watching infomercials, I stumbled upon televangelist Jimmy Swaggart and thought, “okay, what the hell: let’s just see what this is all about.” Swaggart paraded on his stage, his face wet from tears and sweat. He yelled and sobbed “glory, glory, glory” over and over again. He said nothing else. People in his audience howled, throwing up their arms, crying, dancing, responding as if new words, different words were coming out of the mouth of the minister with the blow-dried hair in critical need of a decent trim.

“Glorrryyy, galloryyy, glORY, oh glorrryyyyy.” He cried looking at the ceiling.

“Say something,” I told my TV set.

“Ahhh, glorrrrryyyyy,” he stomped from one side of the stage to the other. He then held the microphone close to his mouth and stood still. The camera closed in, framing his face which glistened with tears, snot and dripping hair product. He raised his eyes again to the heavens, shaking his head, the mike capturing his raggy breath, the camera tight on his visage.

He inhaled. “Here we go,” I thought. Now he’s going to say something, I reckoned. You could hear the saliva in his mouth, the audience held its breath.

He sucked in air, the microphone steady at his wet chin.

“Glory,” he whispered.

The crowd went even more insane.

I watched for 20 minutes. I wanted to give it a fair shot. The camera panned from sweating Jimmy, exhaling only the syllables “glore” and “ree,” to his hysterical constituents, who in turn shook their heads with an affected joy, smiling those creepy, religious know-it-all smiles that have never rung true to me. Nothing else was ever said other than that one word in as many ways as that word can be uttered. I finally turned the channel to Cher hawking shampoo. At least she talked. At least she was selling something you could actually buy.

Pliz Coiny

My sweet Brazilian neighbor Cecilia recently invited me to join her one weekend at a Baptist church service.

“Awww hell to the no!” I thought as I tried to think of an excuse not to go but the truth always works best: “I don’t feel comfortable.” I said.

“Pliz, Coiny,” she pleaded “please Connie” pinched by her Portuguese. “Oi neffer ask anniting uff you. Pliz.”

I wasn’t thrilled with her logic. It’s true she never asked anything of me but then again she shouldn’t; I hadn’t of her, I don’t operate that way. Neighbors are not automatic friends to me: I’m a New Yorker after all. And now here she was asking me to join her at church, let alone a Baptist church, and she had somehow decided I owed her something because she had never asked me to do anything before.

Given the choice, I would have rather cleaned her toilet with one single Q-Tip than haul myself to an hours-long non-English service (“dey haff interpritters,” she tried to sway me) at an outer-borough Baptist church. Baptists go crazy, don’t they? Crying in the aisles, yakking in tongues, yelling at the perceived devil? Did my neighbor expect that I would stagger out of a Queens storefront church at 6:00pm after having arrived at 11:00am, singing “Paaarrraise Jahesus!” and vowing to “spaaaarrread the WORD” to all non-believers?

I mean, I got stuff to do on a Sunday: I got to launder my unholy panties and stock up on ice cream and tortilla chips. I got DVRed episodes of The Real Housewives of Atlanta and Love & Hip Hop I got to catch up on. Sunday is for me, not Jesus.

“No, Cecilia.” I was firm, I was smiling: there were no hard feelings. I was not going.

“It do you good, Coiny. Pliz. Comm on.” Cecilia likely envisioned me burning in hell, innocent to the fact she’s arrived decades too late and with way too little ice.

“No, Cecilia,” I replied. “It’s not for me.”

HE HAS RISEN!!!!

Ten years ago, I worked at a Christian organization. My first week of work was a shock: I received emails that started with “Greetings in the Precious Blood and Name of Jesus Christ Our Lord and Savior!!” with signatures that screamed “Blessings in Christ!!!” and “He has RISEN!!!!” It was being shoved down my throat in capitalized words and ever-extending exclamation points. This was not my belief system and I resented seeing it so blatantly and that I felt unable to say anything about it because I suspected I would be perceived as offensive. And I did know no true ill was meant by these words so I learned to tolerate them even though they never became less jarring to me during the four years I worked there.

A Southern man called our office (the ecumenical agency of a major American Christian church) to complain that the Today Show had featured the Encyclopedia Britannica’s assertion on evolution. He sounded gay to me (a totally unfair assumption on my part but my gaydar is on point, sister, even over the phone) and he wanted me to do “something about” the fact that NBC may actually not believe that Adam and Eve are the ultimate foreparents.

What shocked me even more was my kindness and tolerance of this man; I did not yap into the phone, “are you kidding me and when are you going to do yourself a favor and get out of that closet?” Instead, I told him I sympathized with his frustration, which is the truth: frustration is one of my favorite hobbies. Everything makes me kind of crazy, too and I’ve never been shy with my opinions, but my caller was absolutely beside himself with horror, he almost couldn’t be consoled.

“They need to present both sides!” He squeaked in a lilt. “Doesn’t Al Roker beLIEVE?”

Apparently not. Maybe it’s out of Al’s hands even if he does.

I calmed down the Southern man and said I would follow up, which of course I never did. What could I say to NBC? And why hadn’t this guy contacted them directly himself? Did he know that only guffaws awaited him?

I emailed my gay friends immediately: “Wait ‘til you hear what I just went through!” I was living in a skit from The Kids in the Hall. I was a fish out of water: all the elements felt false and I chose to play along just to stay neutral.

My first year at the Christian office, at their Christmas party, with home baked cookies and apple juice, the few other employees and I stood in a circle with our heads bowed while our boss led a prayer. I felt extremely self-conscious and didn’t mouth any words. I am not one to say anything “in his name;” after all, I hadn’t bowed my head to take two minutes to sing the praises of the New York Stock Exchange during previous parties at previous stints at financial service companies. I felt resentful this Jesus business was something in which I was literally being forced to participate. But I went along. How could I not?

Pussycats in Outer Space

I was five years old when a human boot first hit the moon’s surface on July 20, 1969 so I grew up grudgingly watching the plethora of space travel TV shows from the 1960s and 70s, the airways thick with the concept of this new frontier. The prospect of such a life, tooling around on a space ship with a bunch of people wearing the exact same upside-down-triangle uniform while exploring the dark unknown, was one of my first visions of hell. My autistic brother Christopher loved Star Trek and we watched it every day, I bored out of my mind yet totally anxious at the same time.

Star Trek at least depicted willing participants in space travel. A horrific sub-genre grew from this theme: the unwilling, like in Lost in Space, a dreadful scenario built around the non-Swiss family Robinson, forever banished from planet Earth due to some spaceship mishap and doomed to an existence of trying to get back home while accompanied by a talking robot (clearly a costumed man resembling a large vacuum cleaner) and an obnoxious, fussy British guy. The latter two were almost like a couple, TV’s first inter-metal, intergalactic, gay marriage.

But the absolute worst for me by far was the animated series Josie and the Pussycats in Outer Space, a spinoff of the Archie comic books. Josie and the Pussycats were a musical group of beautiful girls, all small-waisted with turned up noses, who wore tight outfits, sang songs and played instruments, including an obligatory token African American girl who played the tambourine. These characters suffered a similar fate to the hapless Robinsons: the band accidently fell into a space vehicle which was then suddenly catapulted into deep space. The group proceeded to then float from planet to planet, back-dropped by paisleyed psychedelic purple swirls, running endlessly from kidnapping aliens who all (magically!) speak English. Josie and the Pussycats never make it back to Earth: every episode depicts another nightmare of being lost and being doomed, running and escaping. It was the ultimate exercise in frustration, almost pointless to watch. Gee, I wonder what will happen this week? Um, let’s see: they don’t make it home. No satisfaction, no variation, no happy ending: no ending at all. The same thing, the same existence of longing, loss: being trapped.

Heaven

Every Sunday morning, my father hauled my four siblings and me five blocks south from our Fifth Avenue apartment to St. Thomas More, the Catholic church in which my parents were married, although my mother scandalously remained a Presbyterian. My mother was thus spared the pilgrimages down to the 89th Street red brick building where my dad assisted in services and sang in a loud voice. I paid no attention to any words spoken and instead spent my time people watching because people all performed when they were at church. I watched my father, too: at times he was called to the front, near the altar, to read from the Bible, he took it very seriously. I remain confused by my father’s blind allegiance to Catholicism; it was a faith that made not one milligram of sense to me at any time in my life. Even as a tiny child, I disagreed with the religion, especially appalled by the lack of romance allowed for its clergy.

“You mean they can’t get married? That’s ridiculous!” I announced at age three.

It all seemed so sad to me: nuns and priests couldn’t even kiss, couldn’t have kids or live together or make dinner together or wear normal clothes to not stick out. They were alone in a lonely life and I wanted to play matchmaker for them: it seemed so easy to just pair them all up, like by size or age maybe. But apparently the clergy had no use for base physical needs; they chose this life, this consequence, but to me they seemed trapped. Church was the last place I ever wanted to be, church was the last life I would ever want to live.

I deeply believe in something outside myself. But I don’t need to gather with other humans to express my respect and thankfulness for that something. I do that on my own, and not only by praying because, really, I am more of a thanker. I thank God constantly all through the day. I live like a queen in comparison to the vast majority of my fellow global peers, especially the female ones, and I never forget it, with every water faucet I turn, with every bite of Thai takeout I enjoy, with every precious second I get to spend by myself in the exact way I want. I don’t need church to remind me of what I have and how lucky I am; believing in and thanking God is me, church is not. Church is about the other people in the church.

I don’t know why religion segregates people; you’d think it would bring us all together but it’s just another thing by which we compete. I can’t begin to understand why we have spent centuries yelling at each other and killing each other because we think our version of God is the right one and that anyone who doesn’t think the exact same way that we do must experience our vengeance. None of us can ever prove we’re right and yet we are violent with fear to be proven wrong.

I look at our planet-mates: animals don’t need religion. They don’t gather at a certain place during regular time periods to ponder something outside of themselves. Their souls and brains are too busy making sure their bodies sustain. Religion has no place in any animal’s process of being alive and neither does God. The existence of God doesn’t affect their own existence or prove to them their presence on this planet: their very birth already did that. Instead of “I think therefore I am,” it’s “I’m alive therefore I am.” And unlike us, they don’t kill for God: they kill to eat. Or to not be killed, to just keep living. Somehow this is too simple for humans.

I also don’t believe God is a Christian.

This concept makes some Christians absolutely crazy. I don’t believe a loving God (a male god) would plop his “son” (male child) on Earth (via untouched, virgin female flesh) and have that son represent only one religion. That’s favoritism, a very human tendency, and I do not believe God operates that way.

The old white guy who lives with his wife in the apartment upstairs from mine, rolls his eyes on occasion when he sees burqa-wearing Muslim women running after their kids on the sidewalk.

“I tell you,” he exhales, “I’ll never get used to it. They need to go back to their country.”

“They’re in their country, Monty,” I yap back. We both know he doesn’t mind finding no kindred in me when he gets into one of his rants. And I tolerate not one ounce of his crap.

“I know, I know. My wife says the same thing. You two are better than me.”

“Aww Mont, we’re not better,” I laugh, “she and I just look at it differently. Think about it: when you go to heaven, if there is such a place, do really you think it’s just Americans, just whites, just Christians who are allowed into heaven? Do you honestly think when you traipse through the Elysian Fields that you will be only surrounded by ‘your kind?’ Honestly?”

(It’s not gonna be like Josie and the Pussycats in Outer Space: the folks you meet outside this stratosphere will not always know your native tongue.)

Monty’s eyes slant as he ponders this. “My wife says ‘angels come in all colors.’”

“Well, there you go,” I say.

All colors, all languages. Each child with their rightful place at the messy table, as it should be, amen. No “get out of my country:” instead “come sit next to me, I saved you a seat.”

Earth

The dirt of me has no god, the material of which I am made is leaderless, it is solely of this earth. I have not risen, I am not lost in outer space. I am selfish and arrogant about God: I expect Him to accept me, not the other way around. I taste Him in pork and chive dumplings in Flushing, Queens; I see Him inside the running sweat off a lover’s chest; I decide He loves me when I watch reality TV on the floor drinking lite beer out of the can with a pink bendy straw. I am the basest of humans. God is my ally, I honor Him by merely living, I pay no other respects, I am a rotten subject.

I assume I am loved by God but by no one else. I assume God loves us all. I assume organized religion is a joke and doesn’t really count, that it’s a human construct and no direct creation of God’s. I assume some humans wouldn’t mind killing me for such thinking, or at least feeling that I deserved a good yelling at.

It’s awful: I actually think I have all the answers for me in this area. I must be wrong: it just couldn’t be that easy.

All I have is the truth I know in my heart, it’s all I can go on, here on the grimy path: my church is portable with God existing inside and outside all bricks.

Glory, glory, glory and even some more glory.

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