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wontontrap · 4 months

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✿ 18+

✿ part I of Eddie with religious virgin!reader

✿ part II will be based on this post

✿ cannon Eddie speak in this, he's very sassy

✿ reader is innocent but not naive

✿ summary: reader looks to Eddie's inventory to help her pass exams and a seemingly innocuous action by Eddie drives her into his arms

✿ content warnings: fem reader, drug use, swearing, fingering, oral (f receiving), handjob, sheltered religious!reader, virgin!reader, experienced Eddie, slightly mean!Eddie in the beginning, poking fun at reader

✿ dividers by the 🐐 @firefly-graphics

You pace the woods nervously. He had replied "3:30" to the note you passed him in study hall. Each passing minute made you more nervous and all you needed was the help of a tiny white pill to pass your exams. You'd taken it before as a child. Your father always said you were "rambunctious and unlearned" the first years of your life, but he made you stop taking it when you hit puberty. "Drugs like that make people your age want to sin with the opposite sex," he had told you.

You never needed medication as a child, you were just too much for your mother. She hated the way you used to ruin your white dresses with mud. You hated dolls. You hated ballet. She let the doctors drug you saying, "She just won't behave!" But, now you did need the meds. You were teetering on the edge of passing chemistry, and you refused to repeat another grade. Suddenly, you heard a rustle in the bushes.

Eddie walked through the brush, swatting at something in the air near his head, metal lunch pail rattling in his hand.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," you squeaked.

He sat down at the old picnic table in the clearing and popped open the box. You lingered nearby, standing stick straight and holding a heavy textbook close your chest.

"You sure you want the uppers?" he asked, squinting at a handful of orange pill containers with badly handwritten labels.

"Yes," you said. "I need to pass exams."

"Yeah," he says, looking up at you now. "I thought I was a loser, but a 19 year old junior? That's some feat of failure."

"My father doesn't believe in secular education," you blurt out, and he looks at you confused. "He says our true education comes from God, but the truant officers disagree."

"That's stupid," he blatantly says. "Why didn't they just make you do school at home like a Mormon or something?"

You can't help but giggle and you see a smirk threaten to appear on Eddie's face. "Every night I have Bible study with my parents until it's time to go to bed," you divulge. "I've never even opened this, so I have a lot of catching up to do."

"You're planning on reading a 2,000 page textbook in the three hours before 4th period chemistry?"

"Only the important parts," you say, hugging the book close to your chest. You smile at him so the corners of your eyes crease a bit.

He smiles back at you. "You're cute," he says. He tosses the bottle of pills at you and you fumble the heavy textbook while trying to catch it. It thuds to the ground as you scramble for the pill bottle. He's staring at you intently, the threat of the smirk finally carried out on his face. You recover from your cartoonish antics and notice him looking at you.

"What?" you ask, patting yourself down. "Is there something on me?"

You wore a peasant dress and heavy cardigan, sleeves well past your small hands. Your white sneakers were scuffed and the scalloped lace of your old socks was torn.

"It's nothing," he says, afterwards clearing his throat. "That'll be $40."

"$40?" you ask, bewildered. "I only brought $25, everyone I asked said it'd be $25!"

"That's for weed, honey, these are real prescription pills. Worth more because they're harder to acquire. I can't grow Ritalin in my tool shed, now can I?" he explains.

"I'd have to go home and get more," you say, scratching the back of your head.

"You've been quite the character, to say the least, but I don't have that kinda time." He starts to get up from the table and you rush over to stop him with hands on his chest.

"Can I pay you in the morning? Please? I'm only taking just the one and I'll pay you $40 at first bell. I promise!" you plead. The bottle of pills sits on the table where you'd just set it, mocking you.

He looks down at your hands splayed across his chest and then back to you. You remove them, backing away from his personal space with flushed cheeks. You're standing there in your oversized sweater, your long sleeves almost kissing the ground at your sides, pouting like a petulant child. He steps slowly over the picnic bench and takes three large strides towards you. He reaches for your chest and your breath hitches as he delicately picks up your small golden cross necklace. The action puts him only inches from your face as he inspects it. It fell just at your cleavage and you caught him looking at you in that way. You felt warm behind your ears and may have made a run for it had he not spoken.

"Is this real?" he asks.

"I-I think so," you stammer.

"You can have your pills, and I'll take $40 first thing tomorrow morning," he agrees. Not long after he finished speaking did he yank the golden cross from around your neck. You jumped slightly, feeling excitement. He held it up to your face, his own still inches from yours, "But, I'm taking this as collateral."

"W-what's that?" you asked.

"Collateral? It means you give me something valuable to hold onto until I get paid. Something you want back so I know you'll bring my money," he explains.

"Okay," you say, touching the spot where it once laid on your chest as you watched him pack up. As he walked by, he slipped the pill bottle into the pocket of your sweater.

"You have nice tits, by the way." he says.

You walk through your front door, the bottle now safely squirreled away inside your school bag. You kick off your shoes onto the designated rug and quietly walk upstairs to your room. You set your bag in your closet before pulling out an old shoe box from the top shelf. Inside you find about $30, a tube of "Ravishing Red" lipstick stolen from the drugstore down the street, and tampons. You take the money and place it inside your bag, wrapping it around the pill bottle. Just as you're closing the closet doors, you hear your bedroom door creak open.

"Sweetheart?" you hear your father's voice. "Are you decent?"

"Yes, daddy!" you say.

He opens the door with a smile. "Your mother has dinner ready and we're expecting you for your studies afterwards."

"Of course, daddy." you say, wringing your hands under your sleeves.

"Babydoll, what happened to your necklace?" he asks.

"What?" you feign surprise, touching that spot once again. "No! It must've fallen off at school!"

"That's okay, honey. Wherever it winds up is where it's supposed to be. God works in mysterious ways," he says. "Someone must've needed it more than you."

You tuck yourself into bed that night replaying in your mind the moment he'd ripped your necklace from you. It had made you feel primal, the only word that came to mind when you searched for ways to describe the feeling. Eddie was handsome and charming. You heard the way some of the other girls talked about him, the things he'd done to them. You wondered what it would feel like if it were you instead of them, a certain feeling spreading inside you. You'd felt this feeling once before. You'd awoken from an unseen face doing obscene things to you in a dream. The only way to alleviate the feeling was to touch yourself. You'd rubbed yourself raw, fervently trying to soothe the ache in you. You'd touched a part of you that night you hadn't known existed, and every time you grazed it, it sent a shiver through you. You reached for yourself again tonight, thinking of Eddie Munson and all the sins you would allow him to commit upon you. Through your ministrations, you fell asleep with your hand between your legs, never reaching true release.

The entire morning was a blur. Eddie was right to have made fun of you. You only read about 200 pages, a slim number of which were actually on the test. You felt you did well but you'd been in such a hurry to accomplish your task that you'd forgotten to meet Eddie in the parking lot when you'd first gotten to school. He passed you in the hall around 6th period, a stern look on his face. "Four o'clock," he'd muttered.

You lie on the picnic table, legs dangling off either side as you stared at the grey and cloudy sky. Your hands were clasped at your chest, feeling your heart still somewhat fluttering like a humming bird. You heard the leaves rustle and you sat up, smoothing your dress. Today you wore a knee length, sleeveless chiffon with ruffles and the same sweater as always. Slouched socks and dirty white high tops. Your hair fell in messy waves, unkempt. Usually your hair would be up in a tight bun, but today it only gave you a headache. He emerged from the brush and looked at you, almost stunned.

"I'm sorry," you meekly say.

"Was it worth it?" he asks, still staring.

"200," you say, "I only made it to 200, but I think I passed."

He chuckles, reaching under his collar to reveal he'd been wearing your small cross necklace. He started to unclasp it as you stayed sat on the table, legs crossed. He held it up to you and it glinted despite the clouds.

"I fixed it," he said, "I, uh, kinda broke it when I took it from you yesterday."

"I had this weird feeling when you did that," you boldly confess.

"And what was that?" he questions. He's behind you now, ready to return your necklace to its original place.

"I don't know," you answer. "It was like warm excitement."

He clasps the necklace then, dragging the cross along the chain so it laid perfectly between your breasts. As he pulls his hands away, one brushes your shoulder.

"Like that," you say. "It happened again."

"It's probably the drugs," he says, almost shyly. "Sometimes those things can give you hot flashes and shit."

"It's not the drugs," you confidently tell him. "I wasn't on anything yesterday. And I'm not hot on the outside. It's like I'm hot on the inside, you know?"

"Oh," he says, hungrily looking at your open pout, "I know."

"Well," you say, reaching into your bra for the money you brought him, "Here's the rest of it." He takes it, giggling like a child.

"What?" you ask him, laughing now yourself.

"That was pretty wild," he answers.

"What do you mean?" you question.

"A good little Christian girl reaches into the best rack I've ever seen and comes back up with drug money for me?" he says. "That's what's pretty wild."

"I'm wild? You're wild, Eddie Munson!" you tell him, playfully hitting him in the chest. He laughs, grabbing both your wrists as you continue to hit him in jest.

"I am a good girl," you tell him. He pauses for a moment, staring at your eyes, then lips.

"Then why do you look at me like that?" he asks.

"Like what?" you question.

"God," he's says. "The viridity. Such effortless innocence. Your yearning is contagious."

His mouth is inches away from yours. He smells faintly of cigarettes, a smell you never enjoyed until this very moment. Your lip trembles as you're in his tight grasp. That warm excitement fills you again as your heart threatens to escape your chest as you think of last night.

"I don't know what any of those words meant, but I think I want to kiss you." you confess.

"Fuck," he whispers against your open mouth. Dropping your hands, he cradles your cheek in his palm. His other arm is wrapped around your waist as you sit on the edge of the picnic table, your chest heaving with shaky breath. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around him, pulling yourself closer to him.

"Can I actually kiss you?" he asks.

"Would you, please?" you beg.

He leans into you slowly and his lips meld with yours in your first kiss; soft and warm. You're surprised when his tongue slips into your mouth but your body takes over for you again and soon you're exploring his mouth in the same way he did yours. He was gentle with you, rubbing your cheek with his thumb and tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His hand eventually creeped up your waist to your chest and he gently squeezed your breast between a large hand, a ringed finger caressing your peaked nipple. Soon, you began to feel a sticky wetness forming between your legs.

"Eddie," you whimpered. "I'm- I'm wet."

He pulled away from you, lips pink and puffy with pupils blown. "Shit, sweetheart." he whispered. "We should stop."

"No, Eddie." you whine. "Please," you beg. "Please, touch me." You grab his hand, moving it between your legs. "It aches."

Eddie stilled his hand under your dress, grabbing your thigh. "I don't think this is a good idea. I think you still have the jitters."

"Please," you whispered, as you let your sweater fall from your shoulders. You brought your hands up to the straps of your dress, pulling them aside with those of your thin cotton bra, and yanking the bodice down to reveal your bare chest to him.

"I'm fine," you reassure him, taking his free hand and bringing it up to grasp your exposed breast.

"Oh my fucking god," he says, allowing his other hand to slowly trail along your soft thigh and to your soaked center.

"When you swear, it makes me throb inside." you confess.

"Does it?" he asks, finally touching you through the wet fabric of your panties. Your hips lift of their own accord. You start shivering, huffing breaths as he gently touches you. "Virgins always get so fucking soaked. Am I the only man who's ever touched this sweet pussy?" He dips his hand under the fabric of your panties, running his fingers over your wet slit. You would have fallen over had he not let go of your breast to catch you by the waist. He bowed his head, covering your nipple with his hot mouth.

"Oh my god," you said. A silent scream escaping you as you fisted his curls. Your legs spread themselves further, heels on the edge of the picnic table, as he continued to play with your most private parts. He swirled his tongue around your nipple and you felt a dizzying feeling come on. While he had you distracted he slowly inserted a ringed finger into you, the cool metal stopping to rest on that one sensitive nerve. You gasped abruptly, letting out a whine that bled into a deep moan as he moved his finger slowly in and out of you. He released your nipple and made eye contact with you. His dark eyes were endearing, and he looked at you with unabashed hunger.

"Such a sweet girl with an even sweeter pussy," he whispered.

You moaned again at his words. He felt free to say any of the filthy praises that came to his mind, and you enjoyed it. When he added a second finger to you, you spread your legs as far as you could manage, your dress bunching at your waist. You finally saw him plunged inside of you, wetness coating your thighs and his hand. He began to move his fingers in and out of you faster and with his second hand began playing with the small nub of a nerve. Your face began to get hot and your ears rang as you screwed your eyes shut. You felt a strange sensation and reached for his hand.

"Eddie, stop!" you say, and he does.

"What's wrong?" he asks. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, but I think I have to pee." you say, shamefully. Your cheeks would flush if they weren't already.

Eddie laughs. "Sweetheart, you were about to cum."

"What?" you ask, still embarrassed

"You were probably about to have an orgasm. Some girls say it makes them feel like they have to take a piss," he explains.

"Oh," you say, hiding your face behind your hands.

"Hey, hey, hey," he coos. "Look at me," he says. You remove your hands and look at him, his gentle dominance overtaking any embarrassment you still had. "I know a gentler way to make you cum," he says. "I need to make you cum."

"Lie back," he told you, as he pressed you down on the table with a flat palm to your chest. Your necklace fell to the side, draping itself over your shoulder as you lie there still exposed to him.

He hooked his thumb into your panties, dragging them to the side between his hand and your thigh before clasping his other hand in yours and resting it firmly on your hips. You wondered why he would put you in this position, and your silent question was answered when he dragged his hot tongue along your slit. You tried to lift your hips but couldn't, your free hand reaching down to tangle into his thick hair again. He circled your weeping hole, darting his tongue in and out as it tried to close around it. He drank your nectar, feasting on you like some beast. His soft lips kissed your sensitive nerve, wrapping around it to suck and swirl his tongue. Your breathing changed in that way again and you felt that peculiar feeling.

"Let it happen," he said, hot breath fanning over you.

Relaxing fully for only an instant, something inside you burst and you felt a warmth spread inside you. You felt a small gush of more wetness as your legs began to tingle. You saw spots in your vision as you rolled your hips against Eddie's open mouth. He drank his fill of you, until your breathing slowed and you properly came down from your first orgasm. His hand was moving below his waist, and he stood up revealing his hard cock in his hand. You gasped softly, eyeing it and him.

"It's so big," you innocently say.

"I'd like to think so," he jokes.

"Can I touch it?" you ask.

"You don't have to," he says. "You can just watch me if you want."

"Let me touch you," you say. "I want to."

He inches towards you, guiding your hand to him. You wrap your fingers around him in the way his own were, and he sighs.

"Move your hand up and down," he instructs you. "You can squeeze just a little. Twist your wrist sometimes and focus on the tip."

You do as he tells you, listening to the pornographic sounds he makes. Deep moans and animalistic growls each time you reach the tip of him. He unzips his jeans further, taking out his heavy sack and letting it hang free. "Faster," he says, and you pick up your pace.

"Fuck!" he exclaims. "Keep going, sweetheart. Such a good girl. Gonna make me cum for you."

"Please cum," you say. "I want you to feel good like I did. Should I put it in my mouth?" you ask.

"No time for that today, angel. Pull your panties to the side," he orders, and you pull the damp fabric away from your still sensitive sex.

With both hands around your waist he pulls you across the table towards him, rutting his sack and the base of him against your puffy lips.

"Spread yourself open," he says. You spread your lower lips apart, trying hard not to change the pace of your other hand on his cock. He nestles himself against your hole. Still sensitive, you whimper, and you feel his cock twitch in your grasp.

"Faster," he says. "Harder."

You squeeze him harder, jerking your small hand along his hard shaft as fast as you can. He keeps a tight grip on the plush of your hips, staring at your bare chest.

"Oh, fuck!" he cries out, cumming on your chest. Warm, white ropes cover your breasts. He stands before you convulsing as you continue to pump him in your hand.

"Don't stop" he whispers through breathy moans. You continue palming him until he backs away from you. You reach down, gathering his release with a finger and bringing it to your mouth. You let it linger on your tongue, bland but salty, like sweat.

"What are you doing?" he asks, tucking himself back into his jeans.

"I wanted to know what you taste like," you admitted. "What did I taste like?" you ask.

He charges at you, capturing your mouth in a deep and wandering kiss. Your own musk overtakes him in your mouth as he pulls away.

"Fix yourself," he says. "Unless you want more."

"What if I do?" you ask as you begin to cover up. "Want more."

He looks at you with a gentle lust in his eyes, running a calloused thumb across your lips. "I would love to give you more," he says.

"More is all I have to give," you reply.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things smut #joseph quinn smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x f!reader

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fireflysummers · 9 months

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Good Omens S2

Okay so.

Excellent Job, Gaiman

Ouch???

I don't like to publicly talk about my personal life. My academic life is my professional life is my artist life. But my personal life? Not so much, outside of vignettes.

But for the past several months, I've been deconstructing a lot of personal baggage and trauma surrounding both family and religion, after leaving the cult I was raised in (mormonism).

It's terrifying to realize that the framework you built your entire self on is false. It's exhausting and painful to deconstruct that framework, to disentangle your identity in the way that won't destroy you.

And it's slow.

Nobody ever tells you how slow it is to heal. You can't control the rate you heal either. You just have to be patient with yourself, and give yourself an environment where that healing can occur safely and naturally.

Anyways.

Good Omens, and its weird tendency to be exactly what I need when I need it.

I first read Good Omens in high school. And honestly, I didn't quite get it, at the time. I only knew it was different from every other book I've ever read, one that didn't treat religion as stupid or trivial, but also one that called out the blatant hypocrisy and control tactics involved. It helped me safely challenge a status quo I hadn't even realized existed.

I first watched Good Omens partway into my Master's Degree. It was everything that I could've hoped for. I understood the book a lot better, but the TV adaptation captured my struggles with mental dissonance, trying to understand and accept the parts of my identity that I was taught God didn't want.

I watch S2 a year into my doctoral program. I'm out of the cult, and it's exhilarating and painful and scary and fun, but I can still feel the scars its hooks left when they were torn out.

I feel like S2 Aziraphale is in about the same place. He's exploring his freedom, but also trying to reorient himself. He's trying to let himself be. He's healing, but his boundaries got overridden due to circumstances out of his control (naked Gabriel). He's been pulled back into the gravity of the abusive system he tried to escape, given a carrot on a stick, and isn't yet healed or strong enough to resist.

On top of that, Aziraphale is still holding onto the hope that the problem was bad individuals, not a corrupted system. He thinks if the leadership is different, things can change. He thinks if he had more authority in the system, he could make things change. And... that's not how it works.

And Crowley. Dear Crowley.

He wants Aziraphale to be farther along in his healing than he is. Honestly, Aziraphale wants it too. But again, you cannot force this kind of healing, even when it results in a loved one making some truly stupid decisions.

Crowley sees the system for what it is. He's already deconstructed that part. But he hasn't really started addressing his own trauma. He's hinged his entire existence on Aziraphale, on being what Aziraphale needs, that he hasn't allowed himself to heal either. And Aziraphale, who is vulnerable and healing, is not able to provide the support that Crowley would need to recover safely.

Which is why them separating is probably the best thing for both of them.

It won't be permanent.

But they don't communicate, and their relationship while delightful and beautiful risks unhealthy codependency that prevents either from really growing or healing.

Anyways, what I really hope to see next season is Aziraphale's realization that the system never had his back. That the system is what's wrong, and that he can't win by playing at respectability politics or gaining a higher status within it.

I want Aziraphale to get angry.

He deserves it. He's tried so hard. He thinks he's lost Crowley over it.

I want him to feel the gut-wrenching despair of realizing how conditional and fleeting the system's version of love is, and I want it to turn into a rage.

But not a destructive rage--the sort of anger that Pratchett ascribes to himself and many of his works. The sort of anger that fueled Discworld and Good Omens. The sort that can be finessed into a weapon and a shield, that can be used to protect the people who truly love you.

For millennia we see Crowley fighting for Aziraphale.

For Season 3, I want to see Aziraphale fighting for his demon.

For him to apologize, without the expectation that Crowley will come back, but because he was wrong and Crowley needs to know it. To not expect forgiveness, not even think he deserves it.

And then for Crowley--who is trying to hide his heart eyes at seeing his avenging angel coming to save him for once, who he can tell immediately has changed, and is finally going Crowley's speed)--for Crowley to give that forgiveness, without strings attached.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #long post #text #religious trauma #religious abuse #recovery

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goosemixtapes · 7 months

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max's favorite short stories & articles!

to be updated as i read new things! "articles" could be anything from political points to philosophical musings to fascinating stories. obligatory statement that i don't necessarily agree with everything in every one of these stories/articles, but i think about them a lot and want to share :)

short stories

Avi Cantor Has Six Months To Live by Sacha Lamb (@kuttithevangu) (novella) (so says the writing on the bathroom mirror. of gender & judaism & magic and t4t trans guys. cw for suicidal ideation and bullying)

Epistolary by Sascha Lamb ("The [stuffed] frog you are selling on your blog is MINE and he is NOT HAUNTED and his name is MOSHE not BILLY HOPPER.")

Chokechain by Andrew Joseph White (a trans man discovers his parents have replaced him with a robot version of his pretransition self. cw for transphobia and violence)

Sandrine by Alexandra Munck (the tagline for this one is "I dated a sun god in college" but that doesn't do justice to the sheer concept here please read this)

The Traveler Wife by yves. @yvesdot (an astronaut writes to the wife she left back home)

You Wouldn't Have Known About Me by Calvin Gimpelevich (set in a hospital ward where patients are recovering from gender-confirming surgery)

No Flight Without the Shatter by Brooke Bolander (novella) ("After the world’s end, the last young human learns a final lesson from Earth’s remaining animals." cw for climate change/extinction)

And You Shall Know Her By The Trail Of Dead by Brooke Bolander (what if you had to death-match-fight a virtual version of yourself at your meanest made by your boyfriend whose life you're trying to save would that be fucked up or what. cws for guns and violence)

Hell is the Absence of God by Ted Chiang (stories that clock you in the fucking teeth in the religious trauma.)

A Serpent for Each Year by Tamara Jerée (microfiction) ("Our relationship is almost a year old when I ask Nal why she is covered in snakes." cw for animal death)

The Front Line by W.C. Dunlap (microfiction) (cited as one of the world's finest attention-grabber openings. cws for police brutality, racism, and SA)

Welcome to Your Authentic Indian Experience by Rebecca Roanhorse (step into the simulation and gain an authentic experience! cws for anti-Native racism and alcohol)

articles & essays

Lockhart's Lament (on how math is taught in schools. that is, badly. one of the most cathartic essays i've ever read on education)

Against Cop Shit by Jeffrey Moro (on adversarial education)

I Am A Transwoman. I Am In The Closet. I Am Not Coming Out. by Jennifer Coates (do you have to be out to be a woman? cw for transphobia, homophobia, and eating disorders)

Debunking "Trans Women Are Not Women" Arguments by Julia Serano (comprehensive, well-written, good to have as a reference point)

On Liking Women by Andrea Long Chu (and on the politics of desire)

Turning a Unicorn Into a Bat by Josh and Lolly Weed (on Mormonism, love, and whether a gay man and a straight woman can marry happily. cw for homophobia)

Laziness Does Not Exist by Devon Price (musings on motivation from a social psychologist and professor)

How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation by Anne Helen Peterson (how come everything happens so much?)

White Women Drive Me Crazy by Aisha Mirza (on the harm caused by white women. cw for racism)

Everything You Know About Obesity Is Wrong by Michael Hobbes (should be required reading for everyone at this point. cw for fatphobia and eating disorders)

Becoming Anne Frank by Dara Horn (on the cultural fascination with Anne Frank. cw for antisemitism)

The Ecstasy of Influence by Jonathan Lethem ([on/a] plagiarism)

On the Ethics of Boinking Animal People by Patricia Taxxon (video essay) (ostensibly what the title says, but actually a detailed musing on the essential properties of furry media and the freedom of dehumanization; changed my life a bit)

#max.txt #yayayayayay :)#i've decided i'm going to start doing the 'what i read this month' thing #so this is like #my base to come backt o and update when i find new favorites #readings

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plushie-sentai · 6 months

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I will never recover from Mormon king Ohger allegations.

#king ohger #shitpost #tiny warbles

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isalisewrites · 25 days

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Religion truly destroys and warps the heart, mind, and soul in ways you cannot comprehend while you're still trapped a high demanding religion.

When someone chooses religion over you, their closest family, it cracks a heart in ways a heart should never experience. How does one recover from such an absolute betrayal? If apologies are made, how does one forgive? How does one trust again?

You never gave me an honest chance to hear me out. But now that I think about it... I don't think you wanted to hear me out, now did you? Do you hold envy in your heart? What delusions have you created in your mind about me? How long have you secretly hated me? How long have you resented me? How has your heart grown so cold and so hard?

Why couldn't you accept my growth and evolution? Why couldn't you celebrate that with me?

Why did I hide? Because of this.

Why did I keep silent? Because of this.

This. This. This. THIS. T H I S ! ! !

This is why I despise Mormonism with every fiber of my being. Without Mormonism, we would never have been forced to this point. I wouldn't have had to hide anything about myself and you would've never chosen something else over me.

This is religious trauma, the very concept you mocked and belittled.

This is religious trauma.

This.

#pimo #exmo #exmormon #religious trauma #family trauma #fuck religion #fuck mormonism #betrayal #isa's ramblings #isa's thoughts #mormonism #ex religious #ex religion

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everydayyoulovemeless · 10 months

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How The FNV Companions (+Benny and Joshua) React When You're Exhausted

➼ Word Count » 0.5k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic, Hurt/Comfort

Boone would notice early on how you seem to breathe heavier than normal and drag your feet through the dirt. He knows how important it is for someone to have their health up, and would stop the moment he deemed that you were in a safe enough area to do so. He has no qualms about calling it a day and setting up a temporary camp. Even if it does set your schedule back, your strength is vital for anything you do to be effective, and he'd take as long as he needed to for you to regain it.

Arcade has you lay down on one of the mattresses in the Old Mormon Fort or if you're out in the Mojave, he'll hide you behind a rock or in a cave. The second he sees that you're drained he'll put his hand on your forehead to make sure you're not overheating or sick in any way before he gives you some water and says you can both sit down for a minute.

Raul will say something like, "Jeez, boss, you look like you're gonna pass out" before dragging you into some shade. He'll sit there with you and tell stories until you start feeling better.

Lily is always making sure that you're doing alright, so the second she sees you beginning to collapse she'll pull out some water and offer it to you. A lot of the time she'll even offer you her hat so that you can better keep the sun off of you.

It depends on where you and Cass are headed. If you're off to do something minor she'll stop and let you rest, but if you're going to go avenge her caravan then she'll probably convince you to keep going. She's not trying to be mean when she does that, she's just really determined to cover as much ground as you can when you're off doing something important.

Veronica doesn't mind sitting down and waiting for you to regain yourself. You could lay down, or sleep, or anything else and she'll be sitting right next to you. She might even try and fan you with her hands.

ED-E's not really sure what to do so he just zips around you while you lean against the side of some building.

Rex will gladly lay his head on your lap and stay with you while you recover from the heat or just regain some of your strength again.

Benny gets a little annoyed, especially if you're off doing something he finds important, but if you're together romantically, he'll choke down his thoughts and stay with you while you recover. If you're just a business partner, he might just leave you there in the dust. He doesn't have time for this! Surely, you'd understand. If you're in The Tops, he might be a tad snarky about it, but he'll set a room up for you and send you up as quickly as you can. It's better to have people who are awake and healthy than tired and disposable, he supposes.

Joshua takes your well-being very seriously and will take you into a nearby cave to rest. He won't let anything touch or come near you. You can relax with the knowledge that you're in great hands.

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soulsongplays · 2 months

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Alright I'm currently brainrotting about a homebrew World of Darkness setting based on Project Zomboid that I'm calling "Kentucky by Night," which is basically just "What if the World of Darkness was in the middle of a really slow zombie apocalypse?" It originally started as an excuse to use the Project Zomboid Map Project for battlemaps because I didn't want to have to draw any more environments and I got carried away, here's a list of fun facts about the setting:

Most Werewolves believe that the Knox Infection (the zombie virus) is a product of the Wyrm's tampering, likely related to vampires, and as such they have acted as wilderness zombie hunters since the infection began.

Vampires initially assumed they were immune to the Knox Infection on account of also being undead, and while a zombie bite won't infect them, kindred who regularly feed on zombies, intentionally or not, will begin to rot and hunger, eventually losing themselves to The Beast.

The Technocracy created both the infection and the vaccine that grants immunity to it's airborne strain, but despite accidentally releasing the infection they insisted on holding back the vaccine because "the world wasn't quite ready for it"

Werewolves are immune to the Knox Infection, but still vulnerable to the Wyrm's spiritual corruption, meaning Zombie Werewolves are totally a thing

Vampiric plague-spreading cults began to form, insisting that zombies were like their brethren, and Vampires should aid them in infecting the world. These cults continue to exist to this day, considered an enemy of both the Anarchs and Camarilla. The Sabbat aren't too sure about them.

The Technocracy created a drug called "Zombrex" that is capable of delaying the effects of the Knox Infection, though no permanent cure has been found as the infection rapidly mutates. Zombrex is not available to the public, as they are not ready for it.

Werewolf magic users (I don't remember what they are called) are actually capable of curing the Infection via. cleansing the spiritual corruption caused by the disease, though they refuse to do this for non-werewolves.

The Technocracy is actually struggling to regain a foothold in the NUSA, the union of once-american governments formed since the collapse of the USA, as a result of a resurgence of magic during the Knox Event. it turns out people were a lot more willing to believe anything can happen mid-apocalypse, and cults across the NUSA are pushing back against Technocratic influence since the whole debacle with holding the vaccine they'd already had because 'the world wasn't ready for it.'

A Vampire Zombie can, eventually, recover from the Knox Infection- though there is only one case of a Kindred doing so, and it took nearly a decade of being staked and bathed in fresh blood as their body regenerated.

There are two tribes who willingly underwent the zombie transformation, becoming one of the first unique zombie types- the Zombie Werewolf. These Zombie Werewolves still retain some of their intelligence despite their undeath, and all of the strengths of a werewolf, making them one of the most dangerous things in existence.

One of the nations in the NUSA is actually run by mages, occupying a region that was once Utah a group of radical Mormon Mages spread some of the subtler secrets of magic to chosen followers, giving them a step up when compared to the other nations.

I am so excited to finish the worldbuilding and actually run a game in this setting, but I'm worried I won't be able to publicize anything because I have blatantly stolen a lot of stuff from various pieces of media. I might write something up anyway.

#world of darknes #wod #vampire the masquerade #werewolf the apocalypse #mage the ascension #kentucky by night #project zomboid

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mormon-character-tournament · 10 months

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Group Four Round One

Character info from submissions under the cut

Sebastian Brother (Canon) Sebastian is a BYU freshman who in his senior year of high school participated in a special creative writing seminar and has sold the book he wrote, and is now mentoring the following year's senior seminar. He lives in Provo and is part of a True Blue Mormon Family™️ with his dad as a bishop and is preparing to go on a mission...except he's gay and in the closet, and falling in love with bisexual Californian nonmember Tanner who he's mentoring in the senior seminar which is WOW throwing a lot on his plate!!

Lumen (Original Character by writersstareoutwindows.tumblr.com) Lumen is an aasimar ranger who belongs to a famous order of undead knights, tasked with protecting the world from an endless apocalypse. Before their death, they lived in a highly religious community that treated them with deference due to their angelic aasimar qualities. However as they got older, Lumen fell in with an extremist group that believed Lumen was the chosen one, sent to end the apocalypse for good. Unfortunately, only the dead can join the undead knights to fight said apocalypse, and so Lumen was betrayed and killed by this extremist group. Since then, they have been working to recover from the trauma of their death and the expectations placed on them in life. Lumen is an intentional exploration of my relationship to the Mormon church and faith, and their religion is based on Mormonism even if it has a different name in-game. They struggle with my specifically Mormon sense of expectation that there is one specific, very narrow path to follow. After their death and the realization that being an aasimar doesn’t make them special, they are confronting the terror of a changing identity. When you have defined yourself as the “chosen one”—or, as a good Mormon—for your entire life, how on earth do you learn to accept yourself when that changes? However, Lumen’s community was also warm, kind, and tightly-knit, full of supportive people. The extremists may lurk at the edge, always a cruel danger to be combatted, but there is something warm and worthwhile in Lumen’s memories of faith.

#mormon tournament #sebastian brother #lumen #canon #original character

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allaboutandrew · 1 year

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New interview with USA Today:

It struck me that you really dislike the word "guncle." I'm wondering if your nieces and nephews refer to you as that?

That term wasn't really a thing when I started having nieces and nephews 25 years ago. And now it's become a thing. I just feel like it's so often with gay men specifically, there's an infantilization of we're "boys." It's always "the boys." It's never like, "you men. Come over here." We're always like "boys," which I just think is sort of funny.

When people recognize you on the street, do you usually get "Girls" or "Book of Mormon"?

It's kind of an even split between those. Although it's been really interesting being here in Italy. There's a lot of "How I Met Your Mother" – and I only did two episodes of that show, and it ran for 10 years. It's a lot of episodes, and I was only in two of them. But people will say to me, "You were on 'How I Met Your Mother'!" I was like, "I guess I was?"

You talk also about in the book that Aaron Tveit replaced you in (Broadway's) "Hairspray." You mentioned something about how you were told that he was younger and straight, per your recollection. Do you think that this would still happen in 2023? Do you feel like you maybe miss out on roles due to your queerness in any way?

I feel like I probably did earlier in my career. I know I did. I think the benefit that I've had, especially when I started working on television in 2012-ish, was that there was more opportunity for queer characters, there were more queer voices being heard. And that's just continued. So I feel like there have been a lot of opportunities for me in the last 10 years that didn't exist 10 years prior.

One celebrity name drop in the book I love was Murray Bartlett being the doorman at an underwear party you attended. He's having a bit of a moment right now. Have you been in touch at all?

Well-deserved. We did "Welcome to Chippendales" together. I got to play his boyfriend. And he was just off "The White Lotus," had already filmed "The Last of Us." We cranked out that "Chippendales" show pretty quickly last summer, and then it was airing. I know he has a few film projects. But the thing I love about Murray is that he keeps a pretty low profile when he's not working. He keeps his life pretty simple. He doesn't live in Los Angeles or New York and really just has a very low-key life, which I really respect a lot. Because I think he's always just been such a cool guy. Just to simplify it. But man oh man, did I have a crush on him.

Who wouldn't?

It was crazy. He had the mustache going, it was like 2003, he had just been on "Sex and the City." I was like, that's for me. I was not for him, as I discuss in the book, but then later, I got to play his boyfriend. So, you know, it kind of worked out.

Switching gears here a second. I know you've written about your grief in the past. My dad died about a year ago, so that totally resonated. Where are you with your grief right now? I know it's been a long time. But how are you?

Thank you for asking. It's an odd feeling to know that I've been alive longer without my dad than I was with him.

As I creep closer to the age he was – he was 61 when he died. Not that it seemed old, but it just seemed very far away. I will turn 45 this year. So it's getting closer. I know it's not tomorrow, but if all goes well, I'll get there. So that has brought up some strange feelings.

Then there'll be great moments that happen in your life and you're going to feel this pang of loss that they're not there to see you do these things.

You never quite recover from it, and I watch it with my siblings too, as they have kids, and they all navigate it in a different way having children, and how they relate to their kids as parents. We laugh about things that my father used to say to us that certainly would not fly today that he said in the '80s. So it's never something that really leaves you, and that can be a very comforting thing too.

#andrew rannells #uncle of the year

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