#using lds themes

[phoenixapprentice]

[amandaoftherosemire]

I really appreciate that Lower Decks takes the music seriously. Even though it's an animated series, the music is as beautifully composed and orchestrated as any other series. The main theme is evocative of The Next Generation theme, which makes sense since it's a TNG spinoff, but it's not derivative. And there are leitmotifs that make frequent appearances (triumphal theme, tendi's orion theme). They don't skimp and it makes me so happy.

I would kill for someone who actually knows what they're talking about to analyze this. Music theory side of tumblr? You guys got any Lower Deckers?

[nerdygaymormon]

why is validating trauma so hard for the mormon church? even some "progressive" mornons that I've known would rather defend their own faith than validate someone else's trauma. is this just a generational thing?

I think part of it is generational as older people are much less likely to have experience with therapy. Some elements of LDS culture and teachings may also be contributing to the difficulty of some members to validate your trauma

Members have been largely conditioned to think that safety and happiness depends on obedience and loyalty to the Church, and people who leave the church are being deceived by Satan and are choosing to leave because they want to sin with the natural result that person is less happy. If a member hears you've lost your faith or are choosing to leave the church, many members will fit your story into the narrative that you're unhappy because you chose to question or disobey

LDS members, especially leaders, are taught to defend "the good name of the church." To acknowledge your trauma may be difficult for them to reconcile with the mindset that they need to defend the church.

There is a culture in the church of deferring to leaders, to not question their decisions. If your trauma is related to a leader or involves challenging something a leader taught, then the instinct of many members will be to side with the leader.

A common theme in the LDS Church, especially more so in the past, is that faith in Jesus Christ will let you use the atonement to overcome pain and to be healed. This can sometimes lead to the belief that being faithful should be enough for someone to be able to move past a traumatic event. This belief would make it harder to acknowledge the need for professional help in processing trauma.

Some individual members may hold the erroneous beliefs that mental illness is a result of sin, and therefore may not understand that mental health issues stem from disease or traumatic experiences, not a lack of faith.

Of course, the LDS church has some parts which could be used to help members acknowledge and validate your trauma. Some individuals find comfort in the Atonement of Christ as a belief that Jesus understands their suffering, not that it removes your suffering. There is an emphasis on seeking support from God, from loved ones, and even from medical and mental health professionals, and the Church has Family Services which provides therapy and counseling. The Church also puts an emphasis on resilience, which it calls self reliance, and this includes developing emotional resilience and seeking wellness.

My own experience, and that of a number of friends, means I know of harm that is caused by the church, both as an institution and by individuals. I also note that Jesus taught us to love other people, but nowhere does He say to love your church, so for me the default is to worry about the individual, the church is strong enough to take care of itself without needing me to defend it. The baptismal covenant is “to mourn with those who mourn, and comfort those who stand in need of comforting.”

I hope my thoughts help confirm what you're experiencing and possibly explain the reactions you're receiving.

[blooming-violets]

Saints and Sinners || Under the Banner of Heaven

[Jeb Pyre x fem!Reader]

Summary: Jeb falls prey to his darkest temptations while working a case.

Warnings: adult graphic smut, a cheating fic, heavy LDS religious themes and traumas, brief mentions of the murder of sex workers, light fem!dom/male!sub roles but nothing too crazy, brining it back to the religious trauma stuff - a lot of strong feelings of being trapped in a family/religion you don't feel like you belong in, if you are someone who feels offended with merging religion and sexual themes then this is not the fic for you

Note: "Reader" is nicknamed Daisy as her stage name as a stripper/sex worker. She has no physical descriptions apart from having female anatomy/a human body and wearing a sun dress. She can look however you'd want her to which is what makes her a reader character. Apart from that, she is her own character.

Jeb Pyre considered himself to be a decently good man. 

He was well groomed. He was respectful. He loved his family. He gave his job 100% and loved his neighbors. 

He was a devout son of the Heavenly Father. 

Or, at least, he used to be. 

He had been hiding his true self for his family's sake. He was trying, but failing, to keep up his appearance of perfection. Every day was a new struggle to keep up his flawless Latter-day smile. Docile and submissive. Never making waves. Never voicing questions. Day after day, trapped in his own mind, slowly being eaten alive by his ever growing doubt. It was only a matter of time before he cracked. 

She was his forbidden fruit. The temptress sent straight from the devil to corrupt his soul. The snake in his garden. 

His latest case had led him straight to her doorstep. There were sex workers in the city being murdered. A killer who vowed to cleanse his city from their filth. Jeb hadn’t even known there were sex workers living in his area. He’d never even seen a strip club before he was forced to step inside one to investigate. It was a terrifying world he wasn’t sure how to navigate. 

She had taken his hand and led him through the darkness. 

Daisy. That’s what she called herself. Her stage name. She had told him it was after Daisy Buchanan. The paragon of perfection for men to lust after but hiding a sardonic, amoral soul. It seemed to fit. She was the kind of woman he’d leave a green light on for but never be able to obtain. He knew her real name for his investigation but she refused to have him call her by such. She claimed only the people who truly loved her were allowed to utter her true name. To everyone else, she was just Daisy. 

He used to believe that all sex workers were women who needed saving. They had lost their way from God. They were impure. Drug addicts. Abused. Lost souls desperate to be saved. 

But she fit none of those roles. 

She was strong and sure. A business woman. A homeowner. She didn’t need a man to provide for her. Everything she owned was achieved through her own tenacity. When he looked at her, he saw someone who truly enjoyed their job. He struggled to wrap his head around that fact. A woman shouldn’t enjoy having sex for a living. She shouldn’t enjoy selling her body to perverted men. She should remain pure and devout until marriage. He often wondered what her future husband would think of her lewd, depraved acts. 

And then he remembered that she never wanted to marry. 

What an absurd thought. A woman with no desire for a husband? Utterly bizarre. 

She was unlike any woman he had ever met and he was tempted by the wickedness of her world. He knew he shouldn’t be. He knew better than to dance with the devil. Yet, here he was. Allowing her to occupy every existing thought in his brain. She was the one he thought about late at night. She was the name he moaned into his pillow in the early hours of the morning while his wife slept beside him. She was the one he dreamed of being able to touch. 

The one thing he couldn’t have, was the one thing he truly coveted. For Jeb Pyre was a sinner. He wasn't a devout man. He didn’t believe in the Heavenly Father. 

And he hated the life he was forced to be living. 

Everything was an act and he was tired of playing his part. 

So, when a killer murdered two of her work acquaintances, and put her in his targets, Jeb decided to personally oversee her protection. After all, she had been such a help to the investigation thus far. He needed to keep his best informant alive. 

Even if that meant risking everything he had to spend the night in her arms.

Jeb parked his car on the street directly outside of her house. From out here, one would never know what kind of person she was. It looked no different than any other house on the block. He wondered if her neighbors had any idea. He couldn’t imagine if they knew, they would let her stay in the neighborhood without a fight. They’d blame it on the guise of protecting their innocent children from the evil whore but the truth was that they hated anyone who dared to step outside their carefully crafted circle. They hated those different from them. 

But who were her clients then, if not the men who claimed to hate everything about her? 

Everything was a facade. He was so used to hearing people say one thing but act the opposite. The men who would run her from their neighborhood if they knew the truth, were the same men who would cash out their family’s credit card to spend a night with her. Publically, they would denounce her. Privately, they would take whatever they desired from her.

He was no different from them. The perverse thoughts inside his head were just as bad, if not worse. He had seen too much in this job. It had twisted his core. His mind was polluted. He was lusting down paths he could never travel. 

Jeb rapped three, strong knocks on her door. It was later in the evening. He knew she wasn't at the strip club because he had a copy of her schedule in his car glove box. There were other women he had to keep an eye on, too, but she was the one he chose to personally protect. She was the one he feared to lose the most. It was irrational, he knew that. She had no notion of his fantasies keeping him up at night. To her, he was just the lead detective on a case. 

He caught her peeking out the top window of her front door, standing on her tiptoes to reach, and he gave a friendly wave. At least she was smart. She wasn’t opening her door to just anyone. 

He listened to the clicks of two different locks and smiled as she opened to him, “Good evening, ma’am. Detective Jeb Pyre, remember me?” 

She forced a tight smile in return, “Of course I remember you. Do you think I have the memory of a goldfish?” 

He let out a half hearted laugh. She was beautiful but she was scared. Women she had worked with were dying. It was supposed to be his job to keep them safe.

He tried to take a subtle glance down her body. She was wearing a sundress and nothing else. Warm yellow with tiny white flowers dotting the sleek fabric. One of the thin straps was sliding down her shoulder. The dress clung tightly around her torso to highlight her stunning cleavage and flared out over her hips whenever she moved. Women around here never wore clothes like that unless they also donned a buttoned up cardigan and tights. To see her display her body so openly caught his breath in his throat. He had to shift on his feet to readjust himself. He refused to allow her to see how excited his body was reacting to hers.

It was unprofessional. Wrong. 

“Not at all. Do you have a moment to chat?” He asked, doing his best to keep his voice level. 

She gave a sharp inhale, “Is everything okay? Did someone else get hurt?” 

Jeb shook his head, “No, no. Nothing like that. I just wanted…”

What did he want? He wanted to commit a sin. He wanted to see her naked. He wanted to kiss her entire body. He wanted to slide his cock between her beautifully plump lips. He-

He was going to hell. 

“I just wanted to stop in and let you know that I’ll be stationed outside your house for the rest of the night. With everything going on, I thought it would be best to station some people at various hot spots around town to keep an eye on things.” 

Her eyes narrowed, “My house is a hot spot?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, Detective Pyre, but I don’t do business out of my own home. No one knows where I live. I use a stage name at work. No one there knows my real name. I’m not a street walker, I’m a stripper who occasionally takes up extra clients in the vip rooms when the money is good enough. My house isn’t a revolving door for men to come and go whenever they please like some brothel. I’ve taken some time off work for the next week to lay low, anyway. A lot of the other girls are doing the same. I think I’ll be alright.” 

Jeb chewed awkwardly on his bottom lip, feeling like he had offended her, “I didn’t mean to imply…anything…” 

This was not going how he intended. He wasn’t used to women talking back to him. He wasn’t sure how to respond. 

“You being stationed out in your car all night, in front of my house, is only going to cause more eyes to look at me. My neighbors already think I’m some crazy heretic for not attending their church. I don’t need them looking further into my life. Thank you for stopping by and offering your support but I don’t need it.” 

As she started to close the door, Jeb stuck his foot between the crack, wincing as it slammed into his shoe. He felt immediate guilt for doing such a strong handed act with her. He just couldn’t bear the thought of being turned away. He couldn’t spend another night laying in a bed next to a wife he no longer loved. 

“I’m sorry,” he quickly added when he saw her look of outrage. “I don’t think you understand how dangerous the man we are hunting is. He could have already followed you home. He probably already knows where you live. I wouldn’t put it past him to break in. I’ve seen it before.” He gave a quiet sigh, nearly begging for her approval. “Please. Let me watch over you tonight. I won’t be able to live with myself if something happened while I was supposed to be here.”

Her shoulders dropped in defeat. He watched her peer side to side down the street, taking in her surroundings for anything unusual. 

“Fine,” she huffed. “But do you have to be parked in the street? Can’t you pull your car into my garage so no nosy neighbors will see and spend the night inside? I have a perfectly adequate couch for you to hang out on.” 

Jeb smiled, relieved, “I can do that. Thank you.” 

He shouldn’t be this excited about being inside her home. 

As he slowly walked through her place, he took note of the items she owned. Her house looked like any others he might enter. There were pictures of her with friends hanging on her refrigerator, a television in the corner of the living room, a brick fireplace with a little ceramic frog on top of the mantle. A cozy, hand knit blanket was draped over the back of the couch. Everything looked normal. He felt stupid for imagining her living inside of sex dungeon. Whatever that might look like. He still had a lot of biases he had to work on.  

She walked into the living room after him with a glass of ice water, offering it to him, “The bathroom is the first door on the left down the hall. My bedroom is the last door. There’s a spare room to the right where I do my step aerobics. I have a basement with some empty rooms down there but I don’t really use them. Then there’s the kitchen and, obviously, living room. The front door and the basement door are the only doors into the house besides the garage. It’s a pretty small house with thin walls so you should be able to hear anything if there’s a break in.” 

Jeb smiled politely in thanks. He knew what he was doing would be considered nefarious in his community. A married man spending the night in a single woman’s home, a stripper, no less, would be the gossip of the town. It wouldn’t matter if he was a detective keeping watch on someone who could be in danger. He was still a man alone with a woman. The first night he was ever alone with his wife was their wedding night. It was no wonder Daisy wanted him to park in the garage so people wouldn’t talk. She probably had a hard enough time as it was. 

“I won’t take up much room,” he said. “I don’t want to be a burden. Only trying to help to keep everyone safe.”

“Isn’t this usually the type of job you give to the rookies?” She asked, taking a seat in an armchair across from the couch. She crossed her legs at the ankles like a respectable lady should and, somehow, she still looked like a seductress doing so. “Does the lead detective usually make overnight house calls?” 

The skirt of her dress was short. It bunched up around her thighs as she sat. He willed himself to only look at her face and keep his eyes from wandering. 

Jeb blushed and perched on the edge of the couch cushion, “We don’t have too many men at the station. I volunteered to lend an extra hand.” 

She leaned back, eyeing him up with a type of bold, observant intelligence he wasn’t used to seeing, “What does your wife think of you spending the night with a whore?” 

He anxiously twirled his wedding band around his finger. She spoke with such brashness it caught him off guard.

“I told her I was spending the night at the office,” he wasn’t sure why he willingly answered so honestly and without hesitation. 

She had that kind of spell over him. He wanted to protect her. Wanted to give her things. Wanted to tell her all his secrets. She was a siren luring him to his destruction and he was willing to sail his ship straight into the rocks if it made her happy.  

A smirk tugged up the corner of her lips, “Ah, I see. So you’re a liar. What else are you lying to her about?”

Jeb choked on the water he was sipping. His eyes widened. 

“I’m not-what-I’m not-” he sputtered out.

She laughed quietly to herself, “Calm down, detective. I was only joking. An LDS man telling his wife a lie? That’s never been heard of before.” Sarcasm dripped from her words. 

He ran the back of his hand over his lips to hide his smile. He liked her. He liked her sass. She didn't care what he thought of her. She wasn’t playing a game like everyone else he knew. It made him want to tell her the truth. Every truth. Everything he had been holding in for the past year. 

He hated his wife. He didn’t just not love her anymore, he despised her. 

Her words had been echoing in his ears for over a year now, “I love you but I can’t struggle through this with you.”

She had left him when he needed her the most. She chose her faith over him. He should have known. He had married her because of how devout she was. Her love for Heavenly Father was what drew him towards her in the first place. Now, it’s what cast him away. 

If he didn’t pretend, Rebecca would take everything from him. She would leave him for nothing if he didn’t keep on impersonating a saintly man. As if they hadn’t spent an entire lifetime together. As if he hadn’t devoted everything to his family. She would rather jump ship than dare to stand by his side when he needed her most. He would have never left her if she had been in his place. He would have held her hand and walked her through her doubts but she couldn’t do the same. Her love was conditional. 

He hated her for that. 

He hated himself for hating her. 

Rebecca’s faith was what kept her moving forward. It was all she ever knew. She lives in the LDS belief that Jeb, with his priesthood, is the one who must usher her through the veil when she passes so she can enter the highest form of heaven. Without him, without his beliefs, she was fucked. 

Jeb smiled to himself. He liked that word. 

Fucked. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

That was his life.

A big fucking lie. A pile of steaming bullshit. 

He had just met Daisy five days ago and she had already pegged him for exactly the kind of man he was. A liar. A stripper knew more about him than his own wife. She could see straight through the fabricated, bullshit act he put on and he had only been inside her home for five minutes. Five fucking minutes and she could already see the depravity leaking out of him. 

God, he was pathetic. 

“I don’t believe in a God,” he blurted out, shocking even himself with the outburst. 

She gave him a few, stunned blinks in response, “...Okay.” 

Jeb cleared his throat, his face heating with embarrassment, “I don’t know where that came from. I deeply apologize.” 

If he was with anyone else, his confession would have been met with gasps of horror. With her, it was nothing more than a passing sentence. 

She was perfect. He wanted her. Badly. That sundress was only working to fuel his indiscretion. 

She leaned her head into the palm of her hand as she rested it on the arm of the chair, “Is this…something you’d like to discuss further, detective? Men seem to enjoy emptying their traumas onto me. I’ve consoled many men over the years. I’ve been told I’m a very good listener.” 

“I-” he stammered, his ear heating up in shame for his actions. “No. I’m sorry. Again.”

She wasn’t his therapist. He didn’t have a therapist. Only crazy people had therapists. And he wasn’t crazy. 

Or maybe he was. 

Life might be easier if he was crazy. 

“I love my wife,” he stated. He only said that to try and convince his brain to stop lusting after the woman he was meant to be protecting. He was here to make sure no one broke in. He was working a case. He was not here to turn to sin. 

She nodded her head, pretending to follow along with whatever obvious breakdown was going on inside his mind, “That’s good. A lot of men love their wives. A lot of men don’t. That’s a part of life.” 

“I love…no…” Jeb sighed. Fuck it. The rant was coming out. He couldn’t stop it. He was already too far gone to keep it repressed any longer. “I don’t love my wife. I hate her. Every time I look at her, all I feel is animosity. I think she’s the dumbest woman I’ve ever met and I know that’s wrong to think. I know that makes me a terrible man. I’m an awful husband. It’s just that she blindly follows whatever the profit says. Whatever a bishop tells her to do, she’d do it without a second thought. They could tell her to get on her knees and suck them off because Heavenly Father commanded it so and she would do it. She doesn’t see anything further than her own nose. She follows and never questions. And, I understand, because I used to be the same. I used to believe because that’s what I was taught to do. Blindly believe. That’s all there ever was. 

“She’s never seen true evil. Not like I have. Because she refuses to look even though it’s all around her. I see it everywhere. She puts on her little Mormon blinders and never dares to take them off. So, she follows. And she makes my girls follow. And she makes me follow or else she will take the girls away from me. I am raising my daughters in a world that hates women. My wife is letting them be preyed upon. She’s happy to let them be squashed into submission. Keep sweet. Pray and obey. Learn to worship your future husband. Never think for yourself.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, shaking breath, feeling himself losing it. His voice cracked. “If I give up, is there no hope for my daughters? Who will protect them if not me? My wife would marry again, quickly, so she can still get into the celestial kingdom when she dies. She’ll marry someone who won’t waver in their beliefs. Another man would raise my girls. He won’t care about them. Not like I do. They’ll be sold off to the first Mormon boy they fancy. They’ll be married at 18. Never attend college. Never think for themselves. Never get a job. Because I won’t be there to inspire them to reach for more. I’ve seen what kind of men are out there. My daughters won’t be safe unless I play the part my wife created for me.”

He opened his eyes to look over at the woman across from him. Her face was neutral but her eyes were burning with an eagerness to know more. His sudden outburst of lament had stricken something deep inside of her. He had captured her interest like he was a strange bug forced under a microscope that she wanted to dissect. His spiel may have exploded out of nowhere but she was already on board to follow along. She seemed like someone who enjoyed a feisty debate. He needed someone who wouldn’t hold back. 

“You claim your wife is the dumb one, yet, here you are, spewing a load of shit all over my living room,” she mused, giving him a snarky grin. 

Jeb’s jaw dropped. He forced himself to quickly regain his composure and took another swig of cold water. The fire behind her eyes was enticing. He desperately wished his wife could show that kind of passion once in her fucking life. He hated the docile, sweet act. He craved raging forest fires not babbling brooks. He licked his lips, ready to swallow anything she threw back at him. This is what he wanted. Someone to argue with. Someone he could express himself with without fear of rejection. He wanted this fierce lioness to eat him alive. 

He just wanted something that felt real for once. 

She stood up to pace around the room in front of him while she spoke, “Do you realize your wife is like that because she knows nothing else? That is her way of survival. She chooses to believe instead of question because questioning is terrifying. Questioning means losing everything and everyone you’ve ever loved. Your entire world crumbles under your feet if you dare to question. Want to ask me how I know?” She stopped her aggravated pacing to shoot him a look of annoyance. “You’re a man. You have so many options still available should you fumble. If she were to question her faith, she would lose her family. Her mother, father, sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends. She loses them all. And then she is left with what, exactly? I doubt your wife works? Does she have her own career? Skill sets? Does she have her own income? Does she have her own car? Bank account? She dares to question, she is left with nothing. But you know that already. Obviously. Because you are just as scared to speak your truths out loud. You’re no better than her.”

She stopped momentarily to catch her breath, flipping a strand of hair from off her forehead. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way her hips swayed when she walked. He adored her temper. It felt so natural. Real. She wasn’t holding herself back to placate him. She acted on her own accord without worrying about how others perceived her. 

He wanted to toss her onto this couch and take her right here. He could only half listen to her rant through his ever growing desires. 

“How do you know your wife doesn’t think the same thoughts as you? How do you know she doesn’t hide her truths locked up deep inside her mind and never dares to speak them? It’s fine to voice your opinions when you’re in the safety of my house. To you, I am nothing, I’m just a stripper. A prostitute. Hooker. Harlot. Whore. Whatever you want to call me. I pose no threat to you because, to you, I am so far below you that my voice does not matter. You feel safe to speak freely inside these walls because you face no real consequences here. You’ve seen evil? Well I’ve lived evil. You’re here because of the evil that wants to be inflicted upon me. Because I think differently from you. Because I use my body as a tool. Because I don’t subscribe to your values. Someone out there thinks I deserve death simply because I exist in a way he doesn’t approve of. You want to blame your wife for your problems. Blame yourself because you’re no better than her. You’re all a part of the same system.” 

Jeb sat there in silence. The condensation from the glass of ice water clutched in his hand dripped down his wrist. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as he took it all in. He was torn between fully digesting her words and imagining her naked, writhing body under him as he dragged the ice cube from his glass down her stomach. 

“I don’t,” he whispered. “I don’t think you’re a whore.” 

He didn’t even like saying that word out loud. He felt a dark cloud of shame rain down around him. But was she wrong?  

He had never imagined his wife in the scenario currently playing in his head. He saw Daisy as a sex object willing to be exploited to his darkest temptations.  

She stopped in front of him. She placed her finger under his chin and lifted his head up to look at her. His wide, pleading, brown eyes took her in, silently begging for some kind of clarity to fix his entire life.

“Tell me what you think of me, detective. Tell me the truth. When you look at me, what is it you truly see?” She murmured down at him. “Why are you really here? It’s not to discuss your lapse of faith, or your wife, and it’s not to keep me safe. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me what it is you truly want? Don’t you lie to me.”

The way his world saw it, Rebecca was pure, because she had remained a virgin until marriage. She lived and breathed by the Book of Mormon. Daisy was a condemned sinner, because she sold her body for sex. She was beyond saving. Even the outfit she wore was considered taboo. Modest clothing was the foundation stone to sustaining abstinence. She was the sinner. 

But so was he. 

Jeb was no saint despite the role he was trying to play. 

He took a deep breath and recited the scripture, “He that looketh on a woman to lust after her, or if any shall commit adultery in their hearts, they shall not have the Spirit, but shall deny the faith and shall fear.”

Her eyes flicked with curiosity and a smile tugged at her lips. She caressed her thumb over his cheek, “You lust, Jeb Pyre? For me?”

He licked his drying lips, gently pushing her hand away from his face, “Yes.” 

She nodded, knowingly, “You don’t know what you want. Your mind is in one place but your actions keep you in another. I am not the answer to your problems. Many men have tried but all have failed. The answer is never found between the legs of a whore. Unless, that is, what you say is true and you don’t think of me that way. Something tells me, though, that you’re lying to us both.” She gave him a wink, turning on her heels with her dress spinning out around her, and swayed down the hallway towards her bedroom. “Have a good night on the couch, detective. I’ll be retiring to my bedroom should you decide you need me.” 

She let those last few words linger in the air, the weight of them settling down around him, as the door closed behind her.

The cuckoo clock hanging on her wall let him know that midnight was here. The sudden sound breaking the peaceful silence had caused him to jump up from his spot on the couch and reach for the gun at his hip. Jeb rolled his eyes in the clock's direction and lowered his hands back to his side. He might still have some residual PTSD from his former cases…  

Her house was dark and quiet. 

He liked it that way. Sometimes he missed the quiet. She hadn’t left her bedroom since she entered. Without her in his sights, he could better attempt to control his impulses. He was too weak to be trusted around her. If she hadn’t left when she did, he would have given in. It had taken everything in him to not follow her blindly into that bedroom like a dog on a leash. 

Jeb ran a ragged hand over his face. He wasn’t tired. Late nights were where he thrived best. He hadn’t felt this alive in a long time. She’d awoken his mind in a way he thirsted for. Even just being in her house, prowling silently down her hallway, gave him a thrill. He felt like a naughty school boy getting into mischief after class. He longed to feel something more. His life was full of boredom and she offered him the keys to adventure. He longed to find solace in the arms of a stripper. 

A soft light illuminated from under her door to let him know that she was still awake down there. He wondered what she was doing hidden away out of his sight. She had invited him to join her. She had invited him to relish in his sins. It would be a line that, once he crossed, he would never be able to erase. The second he gave in to her, he wouldn't be able to stop. He was already past the point of saving. One little push was all it would take for him to delve into the madness. That glowing light under her door beckoned him to her like the light of God calling him home.  

He slipped into her bathroom instead. 

He ran cold water out of her orchid pink sink to splash over his heated face. His eyes sought his reflection in the mirror to stare deeply into his own battered soul. This was his crossroads. Whichever path he took would alter the rest of his life. He had already committed adultery in his mind. It was now the act to see if his body would follow or not. 

The sight of a black and golden lipstick sitting on the edge of her sink caught his eye. Jeb reached for it, popping off the cap, and twisting it up. A deep, berry red. A color housewives wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. He brushed his thumb over the top to coat his skin with the color of her lips. The bottom of the stick was engraved with the name of the shade. Walk of Shame. He smiled a wicked smile to himself. 

He knew what road he was going to take. He would take that walk of shame. 

Jeb placed the stick back where he found it. He twisted his wedding ring around his finger, mulling over his decision, then carefully plucked it off his body. He placed the ring around the lipstick, listening to it rattle against the ceramic sink, and gave a long, soft sigh. A weight had been lifted from him. He quickly exited the bathroom and allowed his feet to lead him straight to her door. He stood outside, silent, listening. 

Soft moans floated under the door. Little whines. Whimpers. 

His eyes slipped closed and his lips parted. He knew those sounds. She was putting on a show for him. All he had to do was raise the curtain and let her perform. His hand hovered over her door knob. 

It was okay. She had invited him in. 

“-should you need me.”

He needed her. He hadn’t engaged in sex with his wife in over eight months. He needed her now more than ever. 

He slowly and silently turned the knob. Inch by inch. Until he was able to push open the door. Just a crack. Just enough to peek through. He had to make sure she was safe behind those walls. After all, that was his job. 

She laid across the bottom of her mattress. Her sundress was gathered around her hips. Her legs were parted wide, aimed straight at the door, as if she knew he would show up. He was that predictable. Through her half closed, dreamy lids, her long, elegant fingers drew delicate circles through her glistening flower. His breath caught in his throat when he watched her dip a finger deep inside of her. His cock sprang to life, begging to be touched, pushing at the loose fabric of his dark gray suit pants. 

He should close the door. He should leave. 

This was wrong. He needed to repent. 

“I see you watching me, detective,” she whispered to him as he hid away in the dark hallway, lurking in the shadows like a predator. She let out a soft whine, dragging her soaked finger in circles around her clit. “I know you’re there.” 

Jeb swallowed. She was the devil. A demon. He had no power over her. Heat flushed through his veins. His breath was already coming out in heavy pants. He was chained to the doorway, captivated by her seduction. He couldn’t move away even if he wanted to. 

“Have you ever seen a woman masturbate, Brother Pyre?” She moaned. “Have you ever seen a woman touch herself like this?” 

His fingers wrapped around the edge of the door, gripping tightly onto the wood for support. No. He hadn’t. It would shock him if he found out his wife secretly masturbated in private. She was so well behaved. Masturbation was a sin. She would never dare allow anyone else besides him to touch her, not even herself. 

“Do you like to watch me?” She whimpered, sinking her finger back inside of her. “I was hoping you would come. I know you, detective. I see through you. Your mind is just as perverted as the rest of us. You want to give in. You want to taste what is forbidden to you. It’s okay. I won’t tell.” 

She looked hotly up into his eyes, staring straight into his corrupted soul. He was too weak. He had no resolve. The devil looked too appetizing. The sins of the flesh were tempting him forward as he let the door push open to reveal himself in all his shame. 

She gave him a warm smile, taking in the sight of the bulge below his belt. Her fingers swept through her folds, slippery with her arousal. With the expertise of someone with diligent practice, she used two fingers to part the outer petals of her womanhood to reveal to him the hot, sinking abyss he craved to explore. 

Enraptured, he could not tear his eyes from the slender digit plunging into her soaking depths. His mouth opened and closed, silently, begging to seek a taste of such a treasure. He watched in a starving trance as she anointed her needy pearl, bathing it in her honey, tending to it like a precious garden. Her eyes locked with his, burning, tempting him to join her in her display of debauchery. 

Oh, lord, he was tempted. 

Through heavy, ragged breaths she spoke, “Watch me, detective. Gaze upon the kind of life you were kept from. Look at what you could have been given. See what you missed out on.” 

He was watching. His eyes were padlocked to her dancing fingers. She was beautiful. His heart sought to hold her in his arms while he touched her with a wild abandon. 

“Do you like what you see, Jeb?” She moaned out his name extra low and tantalizing. 

He almost came in his pants at the sound of his name in her mouth. A shudder ran through his tightly wound body. 

“Answer me!” She demanded from him.

He gasped, “Yes.” 

A smile spread across her lips, “Good boy. Men like you work so hard, don’t they? You give and give and give but who ever takes care of you? Let yourself relax, detective. Let yourself give in. Let me care for you. Let someone else take control for once.”

Her eyes closed, lost in the rhythmic tones of her own words, casting her enchantment over them both. She had known he would come seek her out. She had known he would watch. She wanted him here. All he craved was to feel wanted again. 

He took a tentative step into her bedroom, closing the door behind him, and sealing his fate with the click of the lock. 

“That’s it, baby,” she cooed. “Come a little closer. Take a look at your new toy. All for you.”

Jeb held his breath, shuffling slowly forward a few more paces. His heart was racing. His skin was on fire. His mind was made up. 

“Why don’t you let Daisy see what her Gatsby is working with, hmm? Take your belt off. Unzip your pants. Show me.” It wasn’t a request but a demand. 

He swallowed, his nerves sending him into a frenzy, as he undid his belt, lost in her trance. His eyes stayed glued to her hypnotic fingers casting circles of magic around her clit. Subconsciously, his tongue dated out to lick his lips, desperate for a taste. 

His hot, heavy cock fell out into the palm of his hand. He listened to her sharp inhale at the sight. It was followed by a purr of approval. 

“I want you to touch yourself but keep your eyes on my pussy, detective. Watch what I’m doing. Watch how wet you’re making me. Listen.” Two fingers sunk into her, squelching and sloppy, as she pumped them in and out. 

His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the sound and a growl rumbled in the back of his throat. With the tip of his thumb, still stained with her lipstick, he smeared around his own wetness leaking from his tip. He worked it down his shaft, slowly pumping himself through his fist. 

“I’ve been dreaming of this moment since the day I met you,” she breathed, keeping him in her watchful sights, each of them working to build their own pleasure. “I saw you then like I see you now. A lost man in need of guidance. I dreamed of you touching me. That first day, when you called me into your office. I imagined spreading my legs for you as I sat on top of your desk, throwing papers to the floor, while you ate me out in front of the large window. I dreamed of you finding me at my work, paying extra to take me to the back rooms, making me suck your cock while you grabbed my hair and prayed to your pathetic God.” He wanted to eat that arrogant smirk straight off her face. “You like watching me, don’t you, pretty boy? You like hiding here, away from the world, where only you and I can bear witness to the blasphemy of your true self. Show me who you really are.” 

He whimpered, tugging on his cock a little harder. He was a sinner. An adulterer. A pervert. A heretic. A liar. 

“Tell me what you want to do to me, detective? Tell me all the ways you’ve dreamed of fucking me while you slept next to your frigid wife.” 

Jeb stuttered over his words, trying to force them out his tightening throat, “I’ve-I’ve…dreamt of dragging you to temple, b-bending you over the sacrament table, and fucking you in front of the congregation so they could all see what kind of dirty whore you are.” 

Tears pricked in his eyes as the shame battled it out with the unbridled lust. He had never spoken like that in his life. A sense of vitality flowed through him. It made his cock twitch in his hand and he stroked it more fervently. 

She licked her lips, letting out a light, amused laugh, “Such a naughty boy, detective. I know there’s more darkness in you. I want to hear it all. What else do you dream of?” 

“Taking you into my home. F-fucking you-” he stumbled over the word “fucking” as it still felt so forgein on his lips to openly talk this dirty. “In my bed. On my wife’s side. Forcing her to watch while I make you unravel on my tongue. Showing her exactly what she is missing out on. Showing her what kind of man I could be if she’d only open herself up to experiment more.”

He couldn’t believe the filth he was allowing himself to admit. These were his private thoughts. They were never meant to be exposed to anyone. She had that effect on him. His skull was cracked open and his most shameless self was laid bare. 

“You’re poor, poor wife,” she mewled. “She deserves to have someone tend to her needs, too. I know she wants it. All women do. You’ve just never pushed her far enough because you’re weak, Jeb Pyre.” She removed her fingers from her pussy and sat up, letting her dress fall back over her hips. She stared him down with her possessive gaze. “Get on your knees,” she ordered. 

He didn’t even hesitate. He released his hand from his cock and knelt down before her. She slowly got to her feet to take a stand directly in front of him. She was so close he could smell her sex clinging to her skin. 

“Men like you are always searching for something to worship.You told me you don’t believe in God. You told me you’ve lost your way. You have nothing to hold onto.” She trailed her finger, still glistening with her slick, over his bottom lip. “If you’ve lost your God then worship me instead. I’m your new God now, detective. Open your mouth and worship me. Cleanse my fingers with your tongue.” 

His lips parted and she slipped two fingers over his tongue. He closed around her, bathing her clean, tasting the remnants of her devine pussy. She slid her fingers down his throat causing him to gag. 

“Good boy,” she murmured her praises to him. “Sing me your devotions. Relax your throat. Soften your tongue. Take it like a man.” 

Jeb reached up to gently take hold of her wrist. He showered her hand in soft kisses, trailing up her arm and back down again, lapping at the tips of her fingers with his tongue, sucking them into his mouth, moaning as she glided down his throat. 

“Look at how hard you are. Desperate to be touched. Desperate to follow directions. Desperate to pray to anything that will have you.” 

She jerked her hand away from him, leaving him feeling empty and cold. She grabbed his chin in her grasp. Her nails dug into his cheeks. 

“Who’s your God, Jeb Pyre?” She asked. 

“You,” he replied. 

“Prove it. Pray at your altar.”

She lifted the skirt of her dress to expose herself to him. Her foot rested on the edge of the mattress so he could get an eye to eye look with his new lifeline. Jeb let out a shaky breath. His hands extended to wrap around her waist, drawing himself closer to her. He tilted his head to bring his quivering breaths to her heated core. She draped the hem of her dress over his head to curtain him the darkness where he belonged. In the dark, he could worship in secrecy.

His head pushed between her thighs to force her legs to widen for him. Her salty musk filled his senses, hooking him in like a drug. His eyes slipped closed at the first taste of the almighty. She was the bread of life. Honey flowed from the darkness and he relished in every drop. His tongue probed at her entrance, burying between her warmth, reaching deeper depths with lapping rolls. Teasing. Tantalizing. Tasting. He suckled at her clitoris, nibbling softly at the sensitive flesh, swirling her with his tongue. The sounds of her coos were all the praises he craved. He didn’t need practice to know how to please her. Surrendering to her was as natural to him as breathing. 

“A virtuous woman is the crown to her husband,” she moaned, quoting the scripture. “And, yet, your sinning whore is the one who sits upon your head like a crown.”

He shivered at the debauchery of her words. He smiled against her pussy and took his time to savor his meal. She was a blessing bestowed upon him. A crown upon his head. His tongue thrust up inside of her, fucking her slowly and tenderly. He tightened his grip around her waist to hold her closer, a desperate man clinging to his lifesaver, moaning against her heated skin. The way she ground herself against him, thrusting herself deeper against his tongue, was enough to trigger his own needs. He humped his hips into the air, thrusting into nothing. 

“Oh, sweet thing,” she hummed. “Is my favorite detective in need of some more attention? When was the last time you’ve had that gorgeously thick cock buried inside someone’s cunt?” 

He whimpered, not letting up on his assault of her pussy, and clung tightly onto her waist. Eight months. Eight torturous months. 

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” she murmured, her voice thick with lust from trying to control her building orgasm. “I’ll take good care of you. I don’t want you getting too drunk off my pussy. Can’t have you completely let go before I’ve had my fun. Come here.” 

She slid out from his grasp by pulling herself up onto the mattress. Her eyes were glazed over with a needy passion. Glassy and wet. 

“Take your pants off,” she ordered. “I want to see you fully.” 

They were already half way down his thighs. With a little push, they pooled around his ankles, pulled down quickly by the weight of his gun belt. He kicked off his nice dress shoes and stepped out of his pants to leave only his temple garments. 

She smirked at the sight and hopped off the bed to take a step closer. Her hand wrapped around his tie to pull him down to her level. Her lips trailed over his as his eyes fluttered close. She glided her tongue across his lips, cleaning herself from them, with a gentle hum of approval. 

“Who tastes better? Me or your wife?” She asked. 

Jeb flustered in her question, “I-I wouldn’t know. She won’t let me. She believes it’s a form of sexual transgression.”

“Did you think about her?” She questioned. “When your tongue was buried inside of me, did she ever cross your mind?”

Guilt filled him, “Not once.”

She smiled, releasing his tie from her grasp, and began to work on extracting him from his perfectly crisp, white button up until he was left in nothing but his sacred garments. 

She slowly eyed him up and down, “Keep the top on. I want you to remember exactly what your betraying as you fuck me.” 

She sank to her knees, pulling down his underwear with her. His cock sat against his left thigh, hard and in need of attention. Her nails dragged along his sensitive, delicate skin. When she reached the tip of his cock, she carefully pushed a nail into the soft flesh while he hissed in pain. She left a crescent moon imprint behind which she quickly leaned down to kiss better. It was her harsh reminder that even if she was on her knees for him, she was still the one calling the shots.

He quite liked how the pain made him feel but he was too nervous to ask for more.

Her throat relaxed as she slipped him between her lips. He skimmed over her warm tongue with little jerking movements from his hips to push himself deeper into her. He wanted to reach out and grab her hair but was afraid to touch her. Instead, he balled his hands up at his side, digging his nails into his palm to try and elicit a bit more pain. It wasn’t the same as when she inflicted it. 

Her head bobbed with an expertise that could only be brought from years of practice. It made his own oral skills seem novice and weak in comparison. His head leaned back as he stared at the ceiling, looking straight through it, and up into the heavens. There was no celestial kingdom up there. There was no God looking down on him. His heaven was right here in this room. His God was on her knees with her lips wrapped around his cock. This was the true meaning of life.

Jeb moaned out her name. Not Daisy. Not her stage name. Her real name. The one he kept locked up in a file in his desk. The name he would slowly stroke his finger over as he spent his late nights searching through his notes. The name only people who loved her were allowed to use. 

She froze. 

His cock fell from her lips and she stared up at him with a playful vengeance. 

“What was that, detective?” She asked, her voice low and dangerous, but hiding an impish undertone. “I know I didn’t hear what I think I just did.”

He ran a hand over his face, too overwhelmed to be thinking straight, “Daisy. I meant Daisy.”

“You think you know me?” She got to her feet, wiping her bottom lip with her thumb. “You think you know the real me? Because I know the real you, Jeb, but do you know me?”

A heated red tint blushed across his cheeks, “I…don’t know…” 

“Of course you don’t. Are you ever sure about anything in your life?” She raised a curious eyebrow at him. “I’m sure of most things that I do and say and believe. Can you say the same?”

He shook his head, “No. I can’t.”

She flashed him a poignant smile, “Name one thing you are 100% sure of right this very second.” 

Jeb licked his lips. He knew.

“I am certain that I want to kiss you. Certain that I want to tear that dress from your body. And I’m certain that I want to throw you over this bed and fuck you like you deserve.” 

“Then let go, detective. Give in. Become the animal you’ve always repressed. What are you waiting for?”

It was all the release he needed. 

His fingers wrapped around her wrist to drag her against his body. His lips crashed down onto hers as he held her in his arms with a steellike grip. She didn’t kiss him back, so much as, surrendered her mouth to him. Her body went nearly limp and he kept her on her feet with his own strength. Her surrender brought forth a rush of devoted emotions and blind, sexual desire turning him into the beast he longed to become. He seized at her hair, tugging, pulling, wildly gripping, and attacked her mouth like it was the holy spirit he sought to believe in. She shuddered before his onslaught and melted into him. The more he reached for, the more he stole, the more she wanted it. She was driving him insane with an unrestrained passion of pure lust. He pitied any man who didn’t fall to his knees to worship her like the goddess she was. Her mouth was a sin that he wanted to violate. 

Jeb violently grabbed at the straps of her sundress, nearly ripping them off, as he tore them down her body. The dress thumped to the floor to leave her completely naked and exposed. She didn’t flinch away. She didn’t try to hide and play with her coy modesty. She stood proudly before him exactly how a goddess should hold herself before a mortal man. 

He slid his hands up her sides, grazing over the swell of her breasts, feasting on them with his eyes. He ran his thumbs over her nipples, pinching and flicking, while he attacked her mouth once more. She parted her lips to submit his tongue into her depths, sucking on it and twirling it around her mouth. Whenever he pinched her gorgeous nipples between his fingers, she would let out the most delicious moan and thrust her chest against his palms. His heart was racing with a pace that might kill him if he didn’t force himself to breath. His head was spinning in a dizzying whirlwind of thrill. 

Jeb sank down and lowered his head to capture her nipple between his teeth, lashing at it with his tongue, listening to the gospel choir of whimpering moans coming out of her. She had shoved her nail into the head of his cock so he took a mouthful of her flesh, just under her beautifully darkened areola, and bit down hard. He had never bitten his wife in his life. He liked the way it felt as he tumbled deeper into his own carnal depravity. He wanted to defile her body and join her in their mutual corruption. 

She arched her back, letting out a gasping shriek and letting it tumble down into a slurry of cooing whimpers, “Oh, Jeb. Yes. Yes.” 

A circle of intended teeth marks, glistening with his saliva, shone proudly back at him. He liked marking her skin, claiming her as his own. It felt animalistic. Primal. A growl ripped from his throat, he was sick with lust, feverish and sweaty, panting with need. He grabbed at her hips and spun her around, pushing his hand between her shoulder blades to shove her face first into the mattress. Her ankles spread wide to allow him to have easy access. 

He took a stumbling step back to admire the sight. Her pussy was glistening and spread open in wait for him. Beads of sweat dotted along her back down her spine. Her ass was sticking upwards, parted, so he could see her tight, little hole. She looked more ready to be fucked than anyone he’d ever seen. His wife had never presented herself to him like this. He imagined her splayed out in this same position and gave a breathless laugh. He could hardly even create a mental picture in his mind, it was so improbable. 

“Something funny back there, asshole?” 

Jeb gave a dark laugh in response, “Just the neverending joke that is my life.” 

He lined the head of his cock up to her pussy, coating the tip in her slick, and bumping it back and forth over her clit. 

Murder. Denying the Holy Spirit. Adultery. 

Three of the worst things a good Mormon man could ever commit.

He’d already knocked denying the holy spirit off his list…might as well add another. 

He sunk his cock into her. Steady and true. She let out an exhale and he watched her head tilt back to enjoy the sensation. So hot. So tight. Perfection. She was here to be fucked. Here to take his cock.

“That’s it,” he breathed. 

He felt no shame. It was unusual for a Mormon not to feel shame but, tonight, buried balls deep in this woman, he felt nothing but relief. This was everything his body needed. He wanted fast and rough. He wanted to take her from behind with a feral abandon. He wanted to do all the things he wasn’t allowed to do until he was gripped with satisfaction. 

Jeb grabbed her hips for leverage and began his awakening. Tonight, he was becoming a new man. He fucked her with quick, short thrusts that slammed into her. Her ass slapped against his stomach with each pound. She filled the room with the sounds of her gasps and erotic moans. Depending on how hard he rammed into her, she’d even let out little shrieks. He liked those sounds best. They made him fuck her harder, dragging out his full length, then smacking back into her. Possessing her body. Over and over and over.

He didn’t even care that he wasn’t wearing a condom. Those were problems for later Jeb. Present Jeb had everything he could ever need. 

Sweat dripped down his forehead. Ragged, heavy, heaving breaths tumbled from his lips. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, jerking her upwards, so he could feel her body against his. She arched her back with her head rolling against his. He inhaled the scent of her hair fusing with the musk of their sex. He fumbled his hands around to capture her breasts, feeling the weight of them in his hands, her rock hard nipples dragging across his palm. She reached an arm around the side of his head to hold her steady from the onslaught of vigor his hips were causing her. 

“Oh, fuck, Jeb!” She cried. “You needed this, baby. You needed this to happen. Let go. Let it all out. Give me everything you’ve got. Don’t hold back.”

Jeb whimpered out a sob in response, sounding pathetic even to his own ears. All he wanted was someone to listen, someone to take care of him, someone to understand. 

He tumbled them both against the side of the mattress, falling on top of her. Her head turned, leaning against the covers, so he could shower the side of her face with wet, tear stained kisses. He nibbled on her earlobe, lapped his tongue at the corner of her lips, and dragged his teeth along the edge of her jaw. She was made to be devoured. His hips hammered with an agonizing precision into her heat. They were trapped in a hurricane, holding onto each other for dear life, as the maelstrom of building emotions swept them away. 

He could feel her clenching down around him. He knew she was close. He was, too, but he wanted her to cum first. His goddess deserved to reach euphoria before he did. His hand slipped down her side and wedged itself between her hips and the mattress to find a home between the slick fire of her lips. She whined, bucking her hips, the moment he found her clit, tormenting it with his fingers. 

“Cum for me,” his raspy, lust drunk voice growled in her ear. “Let me feel you unravel on my cock.”

Her body shook. Waves rippled over her skin with each hard pound of his cock into her. He could feel her tightening. Clenching. Gripping. A mangled yelp tore from her throat. When she orgasmed, she gave him everything. Her entire body surrendered to him. It burst from her with everything she could give. Her eyes widened, her mouth parted in a silent shriek, her spine arched. Like a demon possessing her body, she writhed under him with jerking, frantic thrusts. He wrapped his arms around her, collecting her tightly against him, to try and hold her together so she didn’t combust into the flames of Hell. 

He let out a whimper as he desperately tried to hold off his own orgasm. He wanted to let her ride out her ecstasy on his cock without him cumming inside of her. 

Her legs gave out and she sunk onto her knees, letting him slip out of her, “I got you, baby. I’wan’taste you. Use me.” 

Without missing a beat, she ushered him straight out of her pussy and into her wet, waiting mouth. His eyes closed as his head fell back. He let out a long, drawn out moan. His hand found her hair, no longer feeling nervous to touch her or manipulate her how he pleased. He helped push her forward to take more and more of him. He wasn’t going to last much longer. 

She let him slide down her throat, relishing his cock with her tongue, tasting herself on his tender flesh. He balled a fistful of her hair into his grasp. 

“I’m-I’m-I” he stuttered out, not able to finish the sentence, but she got to the hint. 

Her pace quickened. Her suction around him tightened. He felt himself tense up before an explosion of dopamine flooded his brain with a loud cry of pleasure. 

She straightened her back, moaning softly, as she swallowed down the hot spurts of his semen. Her fisted hand continued to massage his shaft while her mouth tended diligently to his crown. 

Jeb’s mouth hung open, tears flowed freely down his face, and he eventually managed to stumble backwards away from her. He crashed into the back wall and slid down to his ass, shaking. 

She crawled across the floor to drape herself into his lap. His arms snaked around her, thankful for having something to hold onto. His mind felt like he was floating away. His body felt amazing but his emotions were in turmoil. She stroked her fingers through his hair and left soft kisses along his neck. 

He had done it. There was no going back now. 

“It’s okay, baby,” she murmured against his sweat stained skin, as if reading his mind. “You did what you had to do. Sometimes your body knows better than your brain. It was telling you what it needed. It’s just like taking a spoonful of medicine to fight off a cold. There are times when you need to give in and give your body what it craves.” 

He craved her. Daisy. And everything that she represented. Even at this moment, after he had already had her, after he had given in, he should be feeling horror, disgust, shame, but he only wanted more of her. That’s why the tears were freely flowing. Not because he was humiliated by his sins but because he wanted more. 

This was the life he wanted to live. He had gotten a taste, a spoonful, of the other side. A side he could never have. A side he would always be reaching for but never able to obtain due to the religion he was trapped in. His priorities had to remain elsewhere. He had family to care for. Children to raise. He was their only hope for a different future. He would never allow Rebecca to take his kids from him. He would do whatever he needed to keep her docile and oblivious. He could save his children from the inside, even if that meant selling his soul to a God he didn’t believe in. 

Everything was so clear to him now. There was no more confusion. No more doubt. 

Daisy and his green light. 

The inability to ever reach what he truly desired. 

A/N: If you dare to ask me to write a part two and you don't reblog detailing in great detail everything you liked and enjoyed about this story, then I will curse your entire family and block you. No one gets to ask for a part two without doing their damn part and reblogging first xoxo

Tagging some people who seemed like they might be interested in this smutty lil fic: @moonyslove78 @raindropsandteaandtears @withahappyrefrain @lxinesux @liz-allyn (i dont care if youre hardly on tumblr anymore liz i will tag you in everything i do until the end of time deal with it)

[nerdragenewvegas]

So Joshua may only read the bibble, from what we see, but would he also read more stuff if he had access? He strikes me as a total bookworm, just one that doesn't many books beyond his religious book. Faye actually has an entire collection of books of her own, photo albums of people she's met during her long ass life(229 years by her count), and her favorite book is The Last Unicorn. Wonder if Joshua would show interest in such a novel, provided Mormons don't typically hate fantasy stories lol.

Oh boy, do Mormons love fantasy stories!

There's a bit of a running joke within the LDS community that there's seven scriptures in the LDS church: The Old Testament, The New Testament, The Book of Mormon, Doctrine and Covenants, and the Lord of the Rings Trilogy.

Mormons are super nerds. Like, huge nerds. There's two sort of widely accepted theories on why this is.

The first is the culture. Mormons don't drink, which, as someone who's still a non-drinker, can restrict the kinds of social groups or spaces you fit into a lot more than you'd think. They don't do drugs, have sex before marriage, and they spend one night a week at home together for Family Home Evening. Social activities run by the church are a pretty big part of your life from childhood until you're like, in your 20s and marries, but they go really hard once you hit your teens, and those activities are meant to be wholesome because they're usually organised by the Church itself -- so you get a lot of boardgames! Like, a lot.

D&D is massive in LDS culture. Like, huge. Like, so big that Utah was home to Evermore Park until recently, which is a literal D&D LARP themepark. This thing was in Provo -- which is a college town -- and was extremely successful until mismanagement and COVID ran it into the ground. It's a boardgame activity that can be adjusted and moderated to be as wholesome as the players want, meaning it's perfect for Mormons. I've even seen wards that hold their own D&D nights in the Chapel with campaigns that are tailored to have a religious undertone or message at the end (I went to one and by 'undertone,' it was more that the bad guy was the devil from the bible and that was literally it lol.) Because of the alcohol free culture, LDS men in particular need to find spaces to occupy that don't encourage or 'tempt' them to imbibe. As a result, videogames are huge! Mormonism is fine with violent video games for adults, so you bet the dads all played Halo together when the kids went to bed after family home evening. Wii Bowling was the backbone of family home evening for an entire generation.

So once you've done your 'gateway' activity, it's pretty natural to end up becoming a huge nerd as a result.

The second reason is because of the scriptures themselves. Have you ever read the Book of Mormon? No? Well, don't read the whole thing, a lot of it is a slog (especially Alma. Christ, it just goes on and on.) But if you can find like, a 'best of,' the highlights are nerdy as hell. They're real Lord of the Rings hero moments. Samuel the Lamanite is a pretty good example. Even the regular Old and New Testaments have some real nerdy shit -- and Dinah and Shechem [CN for rape] (which is my favorite bible story, actually, it's a fucking BANGER) is very Game of Thrones-y.

Because of this, Mormons who have grown up with these stories find familiarity and comfort in similar fantasy stories, to the point where I have lost count of how many talks during Sunday chapel or at a YSA fireside I've been to where a matter of faith was compared to something from Lord of the Rings. Lord of the Rings especially holds the crown here with Mormons. I know most people would expect it to be Narnia, but there's something about those little hobbits on their adventure that really just gets Mormons going? There's been actual books written that use the Lord of the Rings story to explore LDS and Christian themes. When I was baptised, one of the missionaries who taught me gifted me my set of scriptures, and on the inside of the cover he had written not a bible quote, but a Lord of the Rings quote. I'm not joking. I'll have to see if I can dig my scripture set out of storage, actually.

Also, it's worth noting that Mormons are really, really into achieving and preserving stuff, like family records, books, etc -- and this is exactly why Mormons end up becoming such a big player in the Fallout universe after the war and why their faith remains so un-changed by the time New Vegas takes place. I'd put money down that the Mormons who went into the Vaults also made great efforts to preserve a lot of fantasy novels, especially Tolkien!

So, yeah, Joshua 100% isn't just likely to be a bit of a bookworm (not only is that a very Mormon trait to have because of the lifelong encouragement to read and study scripture,) but probably really would enjoy fantasy novels. I don't doubt for a second that Joshua has a near encyclopedia level knowledge of Tolkien's works and would probably damned near have a heart attack if he ran into someone who managed to give him an excuse to talk about it. He'd probably enjoy The Last Unicorn as well.

[nakamorijuan]

沢田聖子 - 君色思い Shoko Sawada - Kimi Iro Omoi* Akazukin CHACHA - Opening Theme (2nd Version) This is a cover of SMAP's 11th single, "Kimi Iro Omoi" used as the opening for the original broadcast. Sawada's version of "Kimi Iro Omoi" was the one used for VHS, LD, and DVD releases.

[su-itca-se]

Dear Brother (Oniisama e…) LaserDisc scans and machine translations

These past few years I have fallen in love with the work of director Osamu Dezaki. Alongside Tomorrow’s Joe (Ashita no Joe), I hold Dear Brother in the highest regard.

It was a 1991 anime based on Riyoko Ikeda’s 1974 manga. You should watch the anime. It’s on Tubi for free. But really, just trust me. Buy the Blu-Ray from Discotek.

This anime came and went. There isn’t any merchandise besides some phone cards. Decaying fan sites and discourse is out there, but it’s a bit of a hunt.

Some time ago I saw a fan letter written by Hideaki Anno, apparently from the LaserDisc releases. From what I could tell, the LaserDisc packaging featured a treasure trove of notes from the staff that I just had to read. But I couldn’t find them!

If you’re not aware, LaserDiscs are one step above burnable trash in Japan — often on sale for 200 yen or less in heavy boxes shoved into the corner of second-hand anime stores. So I bought all five volumes of the 1993 Dear Brother LaserDisc release, was thrilled to notice unique letters from staff and industry luminaries in the interiors, and I scanned everything! And machine translated them.

I hope this (long, comprehensive) post brings fans of Dear Brother the same pleasure it brought me to compose it!

Note: I cannot read Japanese. I’ve used Google Lens for OCR, and GPT-4 for translation. My scans are good (and you can get them on Archive.org in high res) but these translations are not archive-quality and should not be depended on without verification. I’ve done my best to make corrections and have attempted to wrangle the correct tone and meaning out of the AI, but they’re essentially just for fun. Corrections of the most egregious stuff would be welcomed, email me: suitcase@soaringrabbit.com.

Volume One

Each disc is themed after a character and colour. The back is peppered with screencaps and notable quotes (“Anata wa dare?” says little Nanako) as well as series credits. The two notable parts to translate are the disc synopsis, and the subheading (seen here in pink on the far left.) Maybe it’s a pull quote? Not really. So I called it a subheading.

Volume One Subheading

A forbidden cult anime masterpiece born of satellite broadcasting is finally available on LD.

Volume One Synopsis

Private Seiran Academy. A story of beautiful love and deep hatred unfolds at this prestigious all-girls high school steeped in tradition. The protagonist, Nanako Misonoo, who is thrilled to enroll in the high school division of her dream academy, encounters three stunning individuals: Miya-sama, Sanjust-sama, and Sho no Kimi. She also gets introduced to the glamorous world of Seiran Sorority, a society that only the chosen few are allowed to join. As a freshman granted unexpected membership in the Sorority, Nanako begins to take a deep look at love, friendship, and the essence of being human, all while being surrounded by envy and jealousy. She confides her various experiences at the academy, along with unspeakable worries and hardships, in letters to her elder “brother” and a young man named Takehiko Henmi… A masterpiece anime born of satellite broadcasting. It is a work by Riyoko Ikeda that the Dezaki-Sugino duo took on for the first time in 11 years since “The Rose of Versailles.” It is considered a unique work that brings a fresh, unprecedented shock by transcending the framework of TV anime with its aesthetic world.

The disc looks like this:

An “obi” (sash that covers the spine) is included. Of course, it says “My tears won’t stop!” in huge text, sells it as the latest Dezaki/Sugino collaboration, and describes it as tanibi na sekai — a poetic concept of a romantic, sublime world of aesthetic beauty.

There are two paper inserts in each volume. The first one looks like this, and is an index of LaserDisc chapter markers based not on plot developments, but notable character quotes.

There’s also a form you can fill out to get a telephone card. Simply cut out a coupon from each volume to prove you bought the full set. Be quick, entries are due end of March 1994.

The interior is the best part. Here’s the spread for Volume One.

I haven’t translated episode synopses, but I’ve attempted to translate both the staff letter and the “letter to dear brother” from someone external to the production. There’s a bio for each author.

Volume One’s “From the staff to all the fans”

Bio:

Osamu Dezaki Joined Mushi Production in 1963. After directing series like “Astro Boy” and “Goku’s Great Adventure,” he was selected as the general director for “Tomorrow’s Joe” in 1970 at the young age of 26. Born on November 18, 1943, and hailing from Tokyo, he has received high praise as a director. Subsequently, he has brought numerous masterpieces into the world, including “Aim for the Ace!”, “The Adventures of Ganba,” “Nobody’s Boy,” “Treasure Island,” “The Rose of Versailles,” “Space Adventure Cobra,” “BB,” and more. He is also referred to as “Sakimakura” and “Mataba Sakimakura.”

The letter:

This is my second time working on Ikeda-san’s work since “The Rose of Versailles.” Her works have a unique aroma, whether you call it a theme or a world. They seem to pursue the literary aspect of the story. When I read the original work of “Dear Brother,” I was very drawn to these aspects, and at the same time, I felt a sense of anticipation that it would be difficult, but perhaps various images could be created. It’s not just about being cool or intense; it’s about creating images that resonate more and more with people’s hearts. Fundamentally, there is an original story, but when the characters start to move, and each begins to live, the story could go anywhere. I always had that sense of tension. So, rather than sticking to the original work, I placed more emphasis on the directorial focus of the reality of the characters who had started to move. As for the techniques, it was not something I was particularly conscious of, but I used a lot of completely black shots simply because I honestly felt they needed to be black. Whether or not it was successful, I wanted to effectively overlap the visuals with the characters’ psychology by delivering such physiological shocks. The psychological fluctuations of the people are indeed the overall aroma of this work. How the audience perceives that aroma is something I want to leave up to each individual’s free sensitivity. - July 8, 1993, at Tezuka Pro

Volume One’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Mutsumi Inomata Born on December 23 in Kanagawa Prefecture. After working with Ashi Production and Kaname Production, she is currently freelance. After going through Ashi Production and Kaname Production, she is now a freelance artist. Mutsumi Inomata is her real name. She was born on December 23 in Kanagawa Prefecture. She is active in both the fields of anime character design and illustration. In the realm of animation, she served as the character designer and chief animation director for works such as “Plawres Sanshiro” and “Genmu Senki Leda,” and as the character designer for “Future GPX Cyber Formula.” As an illustrator, she has also provided numerous illustrations for novels, including titles like “Prince of the Universe,” “Dragon Quest,” and “Continent of the Wind.”

The letter:

Comics are way hard to translate without actually knowing Japanese. Here’s my best effort to uncover some meaning.

For several years, I had stopped watching anime and stuff… Living a hectic life, it’s been like this for a while now. Having a set day and a set time to watch a specific program (not just limited to anime), had become impossible for me. Recording videos is also a hassle, and first and foremost, I just don’t feel that “I must watch the next episode!” kind of emotion anymore. Ah well, I was thinking maybe I’ve just become an adult. Heh heh heh. I’m such an idiot. No, that’s not it.

The blonde guy in the bottom-right is labeled as her friend, and she’s saying something about “Poupee-chan”. I think in the second panel he’s yelling saying “But that doll is supposed to be a girl!”

The final monologue starts with:

By the way, I have a container for “dangerous items” at the corner of my work desk. I keep things like cutter blades in it, so that I don’t accidentally drop them on the floor and cut myself or something. The “dangerous items” container I’m using now has a sticker with Saint-Just-sama’s “Nanako’s Eyes,” heh heh heh ♡

That’s about all there is to note about Volume One, besides the fact it comes with an enormous poster (it’s the same art used on the cover of the Discotek Blu-Ray.)

Volume Two

Volume Two Subheading

Those eyes of that person, mysteriously and beautifully shining. Why these feelings? Why...? The increasing heartbeat, the endless tears of adolescence. A masterpiece of forbidden cult anime born from satellite broadcasting! The second installment on LaserDisc!

Volume Two Synopsis

Nanako’s life at school, after being chosen as a sorority member, was not all glitz and glamour. There were misunderstandings with her best friend Tomiko, and jealousy and slander from other students, including Misaki Aya. And then there was the obsessive love from her fellow sorority member, Nobuo Mariko. “What is a sorority? Is it really that important?” Nanako began to question the very existence of sororities. Yet, she tries to look straight into herself, even while confused. Always before her were the mysteriously beautiful and shining eyes of Saint-Just. Drawn to those eyes that seemed to peer into a distant past, Nanako attempts to uncover their secret. Then, by chance, she finds out about the special relationship between Fukiko and Saint-Just. Could it be that Miya-sama and Saint-Just-sama are…? The complicated interplay of relationships and the previously enigmatic characters start to become a little clearer in “Volume 2: The Chapter of Freezing Rain.” The subtle breaths of the people surrounding Nanako can be heard.

Volume Two’s “From the staff, Dear Nanako”

Bio:

Hideo Takayashiki Born in 1947, native of Iwate Prefecture. After passing through Osamu Tezuka’s Mushi Production, became a scenario writer. Known for scripts of theatrical anime films such as “Hang in There, Tabuchi-kun!”, “Barefoot Gen”, and the “Phoenix” series. Also worked on numerous TV anime scripts like “Gutsy Frog”, “Gamba’s Adventure”, and “Tomorrow’s Joe”. Additionally, wrote scripts for original videos and TV dramas like “The Laughing Target”, “One-Pound Gospel”, and has written many novels, actively contributing as a versatile scriptwriter. Member of the Japan Broadcast Writers Association.

The letter:

Dear Nanako Misonoo, How are you? How is university life? It’s hard to believe that three years have passed since then. I was involved with you and those around you for just one year, but in retrospect, it was a very intense year. In any case, I did something terrible to you. It may have been the extreme form of “bullying” in some sense. My work as a scriptwriter involved probing and expanding the uncharted worlds between the frames of original works, constructing new narratives. In a sense, it was a painful job. And for you, it was excruciating. But now it’s a wonderful memory. I am filled with the feeling that I did some real work after a long time. How is your best friend, Tomoko? What about Mariko? I assume Fuki is becoming more and more beautiful? Do you occasionally receive letters from Kaoru? This summer marked the third anniversary of Saint-Just-sama’s passing. Thinking back, it was an unusually hot day. Your anguished form, waiting alone at the platform while listening to the chirping cicadas and the sound of the sea, is still etched in my memory. I hear that there has not been a single day without flowers at the electric pole where Saint-Just-sama fell. I am grateful for the chance to have met you and the people around you. Autumn, 1993

Volume Two’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Kazuhiko Shimamoto Born April 26, 1961 From the hinterland of Hokkaido After being selected as an honorable mention in the 9th Shogakukan Newcomer Comics Award Debuted with “Hissatsu no Transfer Student”. His masterpieces include Gyakkyo Nine’ and Moeyo Pen. Examples include Flame Transfer Student’ and Kamen Rider ZO.”

The letter:

Another piece directed by Osamu Dezaki and supervised by Akio Sugino has become a permanent edition (converted to LaserDisc)! (Hooray!) From the anime “Ashita no Joe” (1), the unique and beautiful way of life portrayed in anime is so intense that it has consistently given us dreams, hopes, despair, loneliness, friendship, love, perseverance, and revival! These works have even surpassed the original works in the emotional impact of their final episodes. I continue to be captivated by the atmosphere conveyed by these works. The reason I enjoy drawing the final episodes of my own works is entirely due to Director Dezaki’s influence! Currently, Osamu Tezuka and Ikki Kajiwara, the two individuals whom I revered as gods in the manga world, are no longer with us. Even now, these works, which possess added charm, continue to provide us (even those who have become professionals) with anticipation for the next episode, life lessons, and motivation for creating works. Seagulls, dance! Liquids, shine!! Wind, blow and then, “Why go to such lengths?” Charafo! Go as far as you can go! Mariko, somehow you’re really scary, Mariko.

Then the words scribbled next to the drawing of Mariko:

You are the protagonist of this work! I’m paying the most attention to you. You’re not alone! That’s right! Make me Mariko’s ‘older brother’… ‘older brother’…

Mariko is saying (OCR mangling here, sadly):

Thank you… I just feel… that’s special… Why not? If I had to say, maybe it’s a ‘woman’s world’…

(Clearly a reference to Rikiishi Toru of Dezaki’s earlier anime Ashita no Joe, who intensely speaks of a “man’s world”. He and Mariko love a good starvation diet!)

The little chibi version of Shimamoto(?) in the bottom left is saying:

But everyone, don’t easily become someone’s ‘older brother.’ It’ll be troublesome later!

GPT-4 noticed a cute reference it couldn’t include in its translation. Its note:

The text seems to be OCR scanned partially, and hence some meanings might be missing or distorted, such as “マンガ界のジョン・シルバーだ!!”, which appears to compare Dezaki and Sugino to a ‘John Silver’ of the manga world.

Volume Three

Volume Three Subheading

It’s not too late; our beautiful time can still be preserved, forever unspoiled, just like this white snow… A forbidden masterpiece of a cult anime born from satellite broadcasting! The fourth release on LD!

Volume Three Synopsis

Suddenly summoned to the sorority house, Nanako is pressured by Fukiko to end her relationship with Hemimi. Upon hearing this, Saint-Just confesses her complicated relationship with Fukiko. The shocking truth behind why “Miya-sama” wanted Nanako in the sorority unfolds, leaving her deeply shaken. Meanwhile, Saint-Just is tormented by the realization that the stronger her feelings for Fukiko, the more she ends up hurting her. The complex relationship between Saint-Just and Fukiko has a tragic past involving a near-suicidal event. On another front, Mariko causes an incident by attacking Misaki, motivated by slander about her parents’ divorce, which leads to a movement spearheaded by Kaoru to abolish the sorority. Amid the crumbling sorority, Fukiko remains composed. The fourth volume, “Chapter of Snow Dance,” captures her frightening yet noble confidence and deep sorrow. In the snow that never melts, remains the sad yet beautiful promise of Saint-Just.

Volume Three’s “From the staff to all the fans”

Bio:

Tomoko Konparu Born on March 13, 1956, in Nara Prefecture. Pisces. Blood type AB. A fan of both manga and anime, she became a screenplay writer and debuted during her university days with “Ikkyu-san.” Anime works include “Urusei Yatsura: Only You,” “Urusei Yatsura: Remember My Love,” “Touch 2: Farewell Gift,” “Phoenix,” “Cat’s Eye,” “Hime-chan’s Ribbon,” and more. Novel works include “Mystery at the Tower of London,” “Mystery at Nara’s Great Buddha” (published by Kobunsha Bunko), among others.

The letter:

When I heard that this work was going to be turned into an anime, I was shocked. I’d known about the series since its serialization, so my reaction was something like, “What!? Are they really going to do it!? And on NHK of all places!?” Expanding on the original work and filling in the parts that hadn’t been depicted was incredibly challenging, but also enjoyable. What surprised me was that, around the midpoint, the characters started to assert themselves, taking actions that were entirely different from what I had planned. The princess would say, “My pride isn’t so easily swayed,” San Just would insist, “I’m not going to commit suicide,” and even the older sisters of the sorority were like, “We can’t back down now.” Every time this happened, I had to rework the composition. This phenomenon of “characters moving on their own accord” was a first for me in an anime series, and it was an incredibly fresh and pleasant experience. That being said, it’s rare to be so emotionally invested in characters while working, to the point of even role-playing their lines. To be honest, this was a work that got my inner anime fan excited. Ah, I want to do work like this again!

Volume Three’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Keiko Fukuyama Born on September 7. From Tokyo. Currently, she is working as a manga artist, authoring works like “Ruru-chan of Star Island” and “The Tale of Appfelrant.” She also illustrates for children’s stories, including the “Mama Ghost Series.”

The letter:

It appears to be titled “To the Unforgettable Older Sister”. Much of it is too hard to OCR. It opens with this caption:

“To My Older Brother…” is so melancholic and sentimental that it instantly takes us back to our student days where we felt we were tossed around by fate for no fault of our own…

Here’s some of the text beside the character drawings:

Fukiko/Saint-Just: Reputed as the most beautiful sisters in school Mariko: The most popular Mariko-san who lured our tears. There’s a lot to think about! Tomoko: A straightforward, kind friend Nanako: So there I was, fully embracing my Nanako persona, reaping all the sorority perks you could imagine. (I mean, they even say they’ll hook me up with a dreamy guy!) 💧 And just when I’m soaking up that sorority vibe, guess who’s set to make a surprise appearance right after the teaser for the next issue!

Text coming out of the TV:

It was “Oniisama e”!!!! Poor Mariko-san, right~ Misaki-san also, there was no need to say that much, you know.

Volume Four

Volume Four Subheading

It’s not too late yet, our beautiful time can still last forever, unspoiled by anyone, just like this white snow… A forbidden cult anime masterpiece born from satellite broadcasting! The fourth installment on LD!

Volume Four Synopsis

Suddenly summoned to the sorority house, Nanako is pressured by Fukiko to end her relationship with Hemmi. Hearing this, Sanjust is compelled to confess his relationship with Fukiko. The shocking truth makes Nanako reel in disbelief. He deeply ponders that the stronger his feelings for Fukiko, the more he ends up hurting her. The unusual relationship between Sanjust and Fukiko reveals a tragic past of a failed double suicide. Meanwhile, in the school, an incident occurs where Mariko, slandered for her parents’ divorce, attacks Misaki, leading to an anti-sorority movement centered around Kaoru. Fukiko still acts nonchalantly in front of the crumbling sorority. The volume unfolds displaying Fukiko’s terrifying yet noble confidence and deep sorrow. A beautiful yet sad promise lingers in the snow that never melts.

Volume Four’s “From the staff to all the fans”

Bio:

Kenichiro Haneda Born on January 12, 1949. Graduated from Toho Gakuen College of Music in the Piano Department. An accomplished concert pianist, Kenichiro Haneda has a broad range of experience, including composing and performing music for movies and TV themes, as well as acting as a musical director for musicals and commercials. He has worked on numerous soundtracks such as NHK’s morning drama “Youth Family,” TBS’s “Women Work Hard” and “Life Is Full of Demons.” With his genre-defying approach to music and his bright, humorous personality, he is a sought-after multi-artist in various fields.

The letter:

I’ve worked quite a bit with Music Director Seiji Suzuki in the past. Suzuki gives me the music menu, and I’m the one who creates it. We’ve had some pretty detailed discussions about it. Of course, I’ve read the original work as well. When I read it at home, my daughter gives me a puzzled look, as if to say my interests have changed quite a bit (laughs). I think I wrote around 40 songs in total. The music is meant to have a Baroque sound while also feeling contemporary. The order was for something classical yet with a pop atmosphere. The image that immediately came to my mind was a rhythm section, with a harpsichord playing the melody. String instruments intricately marking the rhythm, much like Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. And on top of that, a flugelhorn playing the melody… Regarding the scenes where the piano is played, I played all of it myself. I often compose and perform my own pieces. It’s less about talent and more like playing two roles; maybe I contribute quite a bit to cost-saving (laughs). In any case, this work has a unique atmosphere. If the music I created successfully captures that, then I must again express my gratitude to Suzuki for coordinating everything. October 28, 1993, aired on NHK

Volume Four’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Hideaki Anno Born on May 22, 1960. Originally from Ube, Yamaguchi Prefecture. Height is 180 cm; weight is a secret. Debuted as an animator during his time at Osaka University of Arts, working on the TV version of “Macross.” Later worked on “Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind,” the film version of “Macross,” “Royal Space Force,” and others, before directing “Gunbuster” and “Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water.” Currently planning new projects.

The letter:

Way to go!! Oniisama e… Wow!! The long-awaited, tumultuous Volume 4!! This volume shows us the peak of the series, from Mariko-san’s stabbing incident to the dissolution of the sorority. Amazing, this is really amazing!! Yes. Especially the heartbreaking breakdown of Nobuo’s family, and the portrayal of the sorority’s downfall reminiscent of the French Revolution, are things that are indescribable with words. Yes. The highlights this time are– Brilliant! Highly sophisticated direction and high-quality animation in Episode 27! Tear-jerking! In Episode 28, Mr. Nobuo Hikawa’s soul-stirring outcry!! Upon hearing those lines, my tears really wouldn’t stop. Seriously. Amazing!! Oh, so moving! The heartfelt words of Miya-sama at the end of Episode 32. The sight of Miya-sama waiting alone in the Sorority House and those lines really hit me hard. Moreover, as always– Incredible!! The world that reminds me of ‘Aim for the Ace!’ and ‘The Rose of Versailles’!! Impressive!! The drama unfolds only in limited settings, like homes, trains, buses, crossings, schools, and other familiar places!! Very Sophisticated!! The direction, composed of stillness and motion, light and black, feels so mature. As expected, Dezaki-san! And, Powerful!! Nanako-san is turning into an adult right before our eyes. Moreover, the music is also great!! I wish the BGM CD would come out soon. The use of chimes and telephones remains clever as ever!! Ah, the only thing missing is a bit more on the background elements… by H. ANO ‘93 10/27

The tiger is saying “It’s awesome, isn’t it!”

Written above the drawings of Mariko and Saint-Just: “These two are definitely the ones. Yes.”

Volume Five

Volume Five Subheading

The summer full of light ends, the eventful summer ends… And then the cherry blossoms bloom again… Brother, I am now… A satellite broadcast-born forbidden cult anime masterpiece! The final chapter on LD!

Volume Five Synopsis

Finally, the petition to abolish the sorority has garnered signatures from over two-thirds of all students. As the campus is in a state of upheaval, Saint-Just is lost in thought alone. One day, he calls Nanako out and promises to take her to the beach where he used to go often with his mother when he was younger. However, on the promised day, Saint-Just never shows up. His sudden death plunges many people, including Nanako, into the depths of sorrow. Among them, Kaoru, who is battling cancer and fearful of its recurrence, takes the news of Saint-Just’s death most seriously. She finds comfort in the warmth of Takahiko Henmi, but continues to stubbornly refuse his love, thinking about his future. Love, friendship, bonds… The fifth volume, titled “Chapter of the Fireflies,” explores the dignity, beauty, and value of human life. Seasons turn, and the cherry blossoms bloom again, bringing back familiar scents to Nanako. All of this is accompanied by the most beautiful “love.”

Volume Five’s “From the staff to all the fans”

Bio:

Riyoko Ikeda Born December 18, Showa 22 (1947). Native of Osaka City. Blood type AB. Graduated from Tokyo Metropolitan Hakutsuru High School and went on to the Philosophy department at Tokyo University of Education (now Tsukuba University). Began drawing manga during her time in school and debuted with “The Girl in the Rose Mansion.” In 1972, she achieved great success with “The Rose of Versailles,” acquiring a broad fan base that transcended the realm of girls’ manga. Known for her keen historical perspective and deep insight into human nature. Active as a writer and essayist as well. Her hobbies include Nihon buyo (Japanese traditional dance), oil painting, movie appreciation, vocal music, piano, cooking, and knitting. Her work has been selected for the 76th Nika Exhibition. Major works: “The Rose of Versailles,” “Window of Orpheus,” “Empress Catherine,” “To My Brother,” “At the Ends of the Sky,” “The Blue Pomegranate,” “My Manga” Books: “If Only Life Could Be Lived Once,” “Women of the French Revolution,” “Women Who Wrote Masterpieces” Currently writing “Eroica” and “Prince Shotoku.”

The letter:

As one who has journeyed far from that radiant chapter called youth, a time that shone with an almost awkward brilliance, I find myself in a peculiar blend of bewilderment and nostalgia. Seeing my old ideas of high school life come to life as animation almost 20 years later is surreal, to say the least. Still, it’s exciting: hearing voices given to these characters, seeing them talk, laugh, and get angry. Watching them come alive is truly a thrilling and satisfying experience. Ah, adolescence — everyone’s inescapable stairway to adulthood. Some people take each step slowly and carefully, while others rush ahead, ending up out of breath or even lost. And then, there are those who may lose their direction, standing still, contemplating each step. Wrapped in the love of family, meeting various people, nurturing friendships, experiencing love, and going through the ups and downs of hurt and forgiveness — it would be wonderful to climb those steps in such a way.

Volume Five’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Rumiko Takahashi Born in Niigata Prefecture. Debuted in 1978 with “Katte na Yatsura,” submitted while still in college, in Shonen Sunday. Famous works include “Urusei Yatsura,” “Maison Ikkoku,” and others. Currently serializing “Ranma 1/2” in Shonen Sunday.

The letter:

A masterpiece infused with the creator’s soul. When I heard from the staff that “Oniisama e…” was getting the anime treatment on satellite TV, I was surprised. I’d delved into the original comic before and it’s quite an eccentric story. “How are they going to pull this off?” I thought. But learning that the script was in the capable hands of my acquaintance Tomoko Konparu, I was very excited. In fact, the anime that aired was genuinely captivating. The characters are so larger-than-life that they electrify the screen the moment they step into frame. It’s been a long time since an anime had that kind of presence. I believe the animation is done by the same people who worked on “Tomorrow’s Joe 2.” The scenes are so visceral that you can almost feel the punches land and see the fighters hit the mat. I kept asking myself, “Why isn”t a mouthpiece flying out?” (laughs) My favorite character in the work is Nobuo Mariko. The scenes where she bites her lip until it turns a flushed red, I find it really cute. But what blew me away was the show’s emotional intelligence. Just when the heroine seems on the brink of breaking, a lifeline is thrown her way. This nuanced touch prevents the darker, more harrowing elements from overwhelming the viewer. It’s as if you can feel the sincerity of the creator throughout the piece.

And that’s it. Again, check out the full scans on Archive.org, and remember to encourage all your friends to experience this beautiful anime!

[onyxedenfox]

Hi! I'm Onyx. I'm Queer, Genderfluid, Neurodivergent and new to Tumblr. My DMs and Asks are open, but read the below post in full before reaching out.

I am a Slav who's into LOTR and anything Fantasy. Casual enjoyer of the Witcher, Arcane, LD+R, Good Omens, OFMD, WWDITS, Parks & Rec, Bobs Burgers, Modern Family and Abbot Elementary. Listen to all music except death metal and country. Seen lots of Medical and K-Dramas recently. English is my third language. Love animals and nature. Player of cozy board and video games. Maker of crafts and artsy things. Love to cook and bake bread. Builder of Lego and puzzles. Garden gnome attempting to grow my very first harvest.

I experienced a lot of trauma and abuse in my youth, so besides general posting, I will be using this blog to explore my sexuality and continue my healing journey. But I won't be here everyday, just posting sporadically.

There will be explicit thoughts and themes, so if you're under 18, leave now. If you don't, or if you're a cis het man or a blank / ageless blog and chose to engage in my posts, contact me and/or harass me in any way - you will be immediately blocked. 🚫

If you're rude or disrespectful, or attempt to engage me in any of the hard limits under the cut - you will be blocked. If you are disrespectful to anyone else in my posts, or come with misogyny, sexism, homophobia, trans phobia, terfism, racism or any other form of discrimination and hate - you will be blocked. 🛑

If you're a decent human being, with an open mind and heart, then welcome and thanks for dropping by! 🖤

⋆｡°✩*ੈ✶⋆.˚✩‧₊˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˙⟡⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⊹.˚⟡ ݁₊˚⊹⋆☆˖°

Topics / Issues I have experience with and am alright to talk about:

Recovering from sexual abuse and trauma

Recovering from physical and psychological abuse and trauma

Recovering from EDs, self harm and suicidal ideation

Recovering from substance abuse

Experimenting with and being new to different sex scenes and LGBT communities

Safe sex and reproductive education

Toys and techniques for trans and gender queer partners

Toys and techniques for partners with neurodevelopmental disorders, other physical disabilities or reduced physical mobility

Non sexual intimacy and showing care for partners with differing needs

Kinks / Play I have experience with and am alright to talk about:

Sex with women, transgender, intersex, gender queer and non binary partners. (oral, rimming, hand jobs, mutual or guided masturbation, fingering, fisting, intercrural, penetration, anal, felching, muffing, etc)

Topping / Bottoming / Switching (can be a stone top and a pillow princess, among others)

Rope play, Bondage & Shibari

Suspension

Sensory play, Overstimulation, Deprivation, Gags

Edging, Orgasm Control and Orgasm Denial

Kabeshiri, Forced Orgasms and CNC

Squirting, Watersports and Omorashi

Temperature, Wax play and Figging

Impact and Pain play (clamping, weighting, spanking, slapping, caning, flogging, whipping, paddling)

Electro play (internal and external)

Breath play and erotic asphyxiation

Vore and Cannibalism roleplay

Medical, Historic and Micro/Macro roleplay

Fantasy and Sci-Fi roleplay

Other types of "everyday" roleplay (open to discussion)

Toys and Object insertion

Urethral Sounding and Prostate Play

Feet, Nipple and Tickle Torture

Clit, Cock and Ball Torture

Domming and Subbing (for specific scenes)

Erogenous stimulation

Food play

Body Worship and Massages

Omegaverse Play

Monster fucking

Puppy / Bunny / Kitten / Pet play

Breeding, Cum inflation and Pregnancy play

Outdoor sex, Exhibitionism and Voyeuristic play

Somnophilia and Free Use

Dacryphilia

Possessive Dirty Talk, Degradation and Humiliation

Thribbing, Frottage and Dry Humping

Strength play and Manhandling

Cross dressing and Drag

Double penetration and Fisting

Throat, Thigh, Chest and Face fucking

Group sex and Orgies

Mirrors and Videotaping

Virginity play

Lingerie and Costumes

Hard Limits / Absolute NOs:

Anything pro-ana / pro - ED

Anything pro self-harm

Emetophilia and anything vomit or bile related

Ageplay / infantilism/ little play

Diaper play

Incest

Raceplay

Cheating and infidelity

Drug use and/or Alcoholism related fantasies

Real non-consensual anything (do NOT come to me with any abuse and/or rape fantasies!)

Ganbangs

Scat

Blood play

Knife / blade / needle play

Sadism

Bestiality / Zoophilia / Anything with animals

Grave bodily harm / Impact play that causes bleeding and serious injury / Bone breaking

Unsolicited explicit images or videos

And don't ask me for any either, I only share those in a commited relationship with a trusted loving long term partner. Not with strangers on the internet.

Being called mommy / daddy or approached with baby talk or very gender specific endearments (this triggers my dysphoria and will get you nowhere)

24/7 DS control exchanges

Sissy / Degrading feminisation kinks

Any kind of homo / gender phobic degradation

Any kind of fat phobic or ableist kinks and humiliation

Disability fetishism

Necrophilia

Enemas

Beating, fighting or wrestling

Burning, fire or branding

Forced feeding

Mummification

Mutilation and nullo

No clowns, no sex dolls and no pony stuff!!!

Robots, machines and ai

Sweat, feet and dirty underwear or things that involve poor personal hygiene

Illnesses and diseases roleplay or shaming

Religious self flagellation and punishment

Hunting and gun play

Otherwise I'm single and pretty open, but if anything in Asks / DMs / Notes makes me uncomfortable, I will let you know and block you too if necessary. Just don't be a disrespectful asshole 🌹

Taken anons: 🪐, 🫧, 🪲, 🌹, 🍒

[rainbowdaisy13]

TTPD The Anthology Summary Part 1 *IMO*

This is viewed through a queer lens because I believe she is fucking done playing nice so now she’s throwing it in our faces—FUCKING SEE ME

1) Fortnight—

I was supposed to be sent away but they forgot to come and get me/I was a functioning alcoholic till nobody noticed my new aesthetic

*MIGHTY GOD we start right out the gate sad as hell—no one noticed her queer flagging both quiet and loud and that pushed her from being a functioning alcoholic to a not functioning one. She then says to the fans who refused to acknowledge her truth “I hope that you’re ok but you’re the reason” FOR ME BEING INSANE

*Mentioning wanting to kill people that’s a first and I love it

*I love you it’s ruining my life OUCH 🤕 yes that sounds like something straight people deal with 😑

2) TTPD-

*I’m sorry I can’t remember what mutual said this, but I love love this as coming from Karlie’s perspective. It absolutely fits. She ground Taylor in a way no one else can

*First mention of suicide—both can’t live without the other

*Were crazy—owning the demons together

*The wedding ring line—GOD

3) MBOBHFT—

*I see this one as Taylor viewing herself as a commodity, also as someone who is broken and needs to be fixed so that she remains lovable. It also gives me Cardigan vibes without the redemption arc

4) Down Bad—

*Love this Alien Abduction theme. Melody is even spacey sounding. The entire song uses alien motifs and I adore it. Fave line “they’ll say I’m nuts if I talk about the existence of you” Brilliant 👽 Also the concept of an Out of this World Love

5) So Long London—

*Cool opening—beautiful when they layer her own voice

How much sad did you think I had in me? 😫

*I see this song as a My Tears Ricochet 2. Taylor giving all her youth to someone for free. You say I abandon the ship but I was going down with it—I truly believe she tried and begged them to let her come out for years and she was always shot down—2 graves 1 gun, more murder imagery

*So Long London, so long Big Machine

6) BDILH—

Absolutely beautiful and heartbreaking song

These people only raise you to cage you 😫

*Sarahs and Hannahs/braided hair/church/Elders making decisions—giving cult/LDS vibes

Stay away from her -Elders are yelling this—to who? Taylor? So Taylor needs to stay away from HER interesting

*Shed rather burn it all down than listen to them complain about her sexuality and how it impacts them

My good name, it’s mine alone to disgrace —absolutely shots fired at Scott Swift

*Soliloquies line is incredible—“I’ll never see” is such a burn 😆

*This isn’t a phase, this is who she is!!

*YOU AINT GOTTA PRAY FOR ME!! GET THEM ALL BITCH—SHOW THEIR ASSES

*This is my choice!!

GET 👏🏼 THEM 👏🏼 ALL

NO YOU CANT COME TO THE WEDDING PERIOD

7) FOTS—

*Pretty Baby, much like Babydoll is reserved for women and gay men and theys and thems. We don’t call straight men this 😒

*Fresh out the slammer—realllly trying to get these idiots to understand that she’s felt jailed /caged/trapped

My friends…Watch me daily disappearing 😫 fuck

Wearing Imaginary rings 😫😫😫 Says hello to paper rings says hello to imaginary lockets

*It’s gonna be alright she did her time!! 🥹

8) FLORIDA!!!—

I adore this song—my second fave on the album and absolute fucking banger. So glad Florence agreed to this they makes an amazing duo vocally—main vibes—Florida is the place Taylor wants to go to fucking escape the mess she lives in day to day. Anything goes, everyone is there hiding from something—the law, family, winter—nothing is too weird or unaccepted—and a certain someone has a house there 😎

My friends all smell like weed or little babies 😆

Florence’s verse is chefs kiss—Earl had to die vibes, watching bodies sink into the swamp, just full on misandry I LOVE IT—is that a bad thing to say in a song?? 😆 GET THEM ALL

Also I bet this song made Swifties uncomfortable 😆

FUCK ME UP FLORIDA 🤘🏼🤘🏿🤘🏾

9) Guilty as sin?

The Gay Longing/Gay Sex Song

*Another* suicide reference—but she’s just joking right swifities?

👀

No no that’s fine she just described an orgasm and if she’s not touching the person, let’s assume the pic below ⬇️ is like HEY THIS IS THE SEX IM SPEAKING ABOUT—it’s very much giving The Man pose for getting dome👀

And then the Jesus reference is just chefs kiss—gay sex is seen as sin and unholy by idiots and she said ok then bitch, what if I tell you the sex is so good we ARE what’s holy??

👀

She literally said messy top lip kiss and got away with it like 😆😆😆😆😆😆😆

10) WAOLOM—

I just……this may be my favorite song of hers ever. It’s absolutely incredible in its intensity, rawness, and truth as well as being a banger

Every lyric screams her pain

My bare hands paved their path/you don’t get to tell me about sad/ If you wanted me dead you should’ve just said

I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street —Witch Imagery again!!

WHOSE AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME

👹YOU SHOULD BE 👹

Shots fired again at Scott Swift!! Let’s hear one more joke—they mocked her pain because they truly thought they could convince her she wasn’t gay 🫥

GODDDD 😫

Put narcotics into all of my songs—“a drug or other substance that affects mood or behavior and is consumed for nonmedical purposes, especially one sold illegally—a drug that relieves pain and induces drowsiness, stupor, or insensibility”

SHE SAID I HAVE TO USE MALE PRONOUNS AND FAKE REFERENCES TO MEN IN MY LYRICS SO YOU IDIOTS STAY STUPID AND HAPPY

and that’s why you’re still singing along 😎

Just WOW

Brilliant and Heartbreaking and RAW

🤍🤍🤍 We love you Girl 🤍🤍🤍

[murdocs-sweetheart]

Get to know your mutuals

Tagged by @dastmalchiansnose !! Hii ! Tyy!! :D

———

What’s the origin of your blog title?

Well I just wanna start by giving an honorary mention to my former, longstanding url bc I had that one since this blog’s inception!

My former url, ‘selfindulgentfandomstuff’ was born of my half assed attempt at coming up with a blog name that indicated that I was a selfshipper and not just a normal fandom blog! I realize in hindsight, it probably did just the opposite haha! Still, it became kind of iconic amongst my mutuals/followers, I think, which is why I mention it haha!

My ACTUAL url as it is currently, ‘murdocs-sweetheart’, is the final nail in the metaphorical coffin that is my relationship with Murdoc (CBS MacGyver). I love that guy so so much and I wanted a url to reflect that yknow?

Favorite fandoms?

Alllll of Star Trek (but especially TNG, DS9, DISCO, LD) <- listed first bc even tho I don’t talk abt it much on this blog anymore, Star Trek is a core part of me in so many ways <3

CBS MacGyver

Villainous CN

Late Night With The Devil

Erhhmm probably more but I forgor and those are the main ones I suppose

Otp(s)/shipname?

Will I be crucified if I say my selfship with Murdoc?/hj I AM a selfship blog after all haha!!

For realsies tho, all my mutuals’ selfships and for canon x canon stuff, I gotta go with ‘Elim Garak x Julian Bashir’ aka Garashir. I drew a looooot of fanart for those two when I was younger haha!!

favorite color?

Any shade including and between blue and green. Cheating? Perhaps. Do I care? No :)

Favorite game?

The Star Trek Catan board game!! (There’s a theme here, are you noticing this?/silly)

Song stuck in your head

‘The Moral’ by Shayfer James

Weirdest habit/trait?

Oh man, I could be here all day listing stuff…autism moment. You understand/lh

I suppose the one that comes to mind has to be the way I sit when I draw. I CAN sit in other positions to draw but the way I CHOOSE to when I get to choose is … inexplicable to be quite honest 😭

hobbies?

Drawingggg (traditional and digital), jewelry crafting/beading, juijitsu (although truthfully I’m quite new at it so I’m not very good yet lol), umm I think that’s it.. I used to do archery?? I got pretty good too. Stopped bc I hit a rough patch that wouldn’t go away and took a break about it and haven’t gone back yet. :(

if you work, what’s your profession?

Unemployed babeyyyyy

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

Well, my goal, right now, is to work in some kind of space exploration program. Not sure where, perhaps NASA but that feels a bit too lofty even for my fantasies haha! But for the purposes of this question, yes I suppose my dream job would be working as an astrophysicist at NASA or some comparable organization. (NOT SpaceX)

And I think my alternate, that I’m still equally enthused about- so much so that I added it here- is working in research in quantum physics. Particularly stuff in quantum field theory! Cliche, I know, eeeeverybody wants to do ✨Quantum Physics✨ now but idccc I love the subject so much!!

Something you’re good at?

Umm I’ve been TOLD I’m good at drawing?? Not really compared to people I see on the internet but I guess I could say that- drawing! OH oh ooohh I’m EXCELLENT at untying knots. Like weirdly good and fast at it. Weird flex, I know 😅

Something you’re bad at?

Lots and lots of things, my friend/lh

I guess I’m pretty sucks at maintaining friendships. Decent at MAKING friends! Not so much keeping them, y’know?

Something you love?

ANIMALSSS YAYYY particularly cats, crows and elephants!!!

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff?

Literally any of the stuff I’ve listed above. My fandoms, my selfships, my interest in physics, you get the gist! I’m a yapper at heart!

Something you hate?

Whatever the hells going on inside my brain with that moralistic OCD type shit 😭😭😭

Something you collect?

ROCKS. SHELLS. PLUSHIES. BOXES/CONTAINERS. NEED I GO ON? I loooove hoarding stuff haha!!

Something you forget?

Most people don’t really give a damn if I slip up in a social interaction <- social (among other types) anxiety disorder haver

What’s your love language?

Idk I think I like when people make a point of reassuring me I’m doing Okay, in their eyes, if that makes sense?

Favorite movie/show?

Well. You already know about my fav shows lol. I’ll say my fav movies have to be a tie between ‘The Secret of NIMH’ and ‘Everything Everywhere All At Once’!!

favorite food?

My mom’s Puffed Pancakes :))

Favorite animal?

Cats, probably. Particularly African Servals!!

Are you musical?

I mean, I love listening to music? Is that anything? Idk I sang in Glee club throughout my elementary school years but idk if I was actually any good, despite being praised by all the adults in my life for it haha!! You know how people are, trying to make kids feel better.

What were you like as a child?

Annoying. Next question.

Kidding!! I was just autistic and undiagnosed! I think I was a lot like I am now? Just. Smaller. Maybe a little less anxious. Maybe a little more ambitious. Who knows.

Favorite subject at school?

Sciencessss (I took all the available science courses at my high school in either AP or honors 😎/lh/gen)

Least favorite subject?

P.E bc that shit is So Sucks. Also being a bigger girl meant that people always looked at me funny in the locker rooms. I don’t like locker rooms. :(

What’s your best character trait?

I think maybe my honesty? Like, not that I never tell white lies or anything but I think I’m pretty straightforward with most people, or so I’ve been told. That leads me to the next question tho…

What’s your worst character trait?

People REALLY do NOT like frankness sometimes 😭 so I think perhaps it’s two sides of the same coin.

In all seriousness, I think my worst character trait is whatever it is that makes me believe that I am Special. It used to be, I thought I was ‘special’ for being smarter than all my peers. Now it’s, I can’t help but think I’m ‘special’ in the way that I’m uniquely awful! 😃👍

If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be?

I should’ve gotten up before 2 pm LMFAO

If you could travel in time would you like to meet?

Leonhard Euler. To stop him from putting the Greek alphabet into math. KIDDING. As much as I have a personal distaste for all the damn LETTERS in math now (English and Greek now), I know that it is an elegant notation and he was smart to have introduced it. No but fr I would want to meet Euler bc of the sheer amount of STUFF he contributed to and how INFLUENTIAL and AWESOME a lot of the stuff he did was!! He was a brilliant dude and I would’ve loved to meet him!

Recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love):

I’ll be honest, I haven’t read any fanfic in a considerable amount of time. Chiefly bc I selfship now and honestly I just like writing my own selfship fanfic and reading that now haha!! Sorry!!

[thewomancallednova]

The Big Goodbye

very strong episode overall!

I love that shot after the intro where it pans to a shot of the Enterprise from kinda front/below? That looked really need. Love the purple/red-ish space background as well.

I like that this episode makes use of Picard as a comedic character at least a little bit when he goes from "whoa kissing women on the holodeck is such an experience" to "Anyway, we are here to discuss the upcoming diplomatic negotiations with the Jarada" in like 0.5 seconds.

Some really interesting implications about the holodeck: Most notably it is a recent invention here (as opposed to later Trek series which seem to treat it like something the characters grew up with and are familiar with). Some things are maintained outside the holodeck (lipstick), while some aren't (people) (I think this kinda makes sense when you view the holodeck as a combination of replicator and hologram tech, so many items are probably replicated, but the people themselves are simulated). Wesley implying that if he screw up all the "real" people could vanish is fascinating to me and really adds to the theme of holograms not being that different than flesh and blood people. Like the computer that made them literally can't tell them from the Enterprise crew and would dissolve all of them. That also has the really interesting implication that turning the holodeck off isn't just an act of disabling the holoemitters, but rather that something (and someone) has to actively be destroyed when the program is turned off and if the computer's fucked it might as well destroy you too. And on that note, I loved loved loved the titular big goodbye, and the holocharacter asking if he would still exist after Picard leaves. It's acted so wonderfully, the piano music really adds to it, it's so sad, it's amazing. And I loved that Picard so earnestly said that he doesn't know. Because of course he doesn't, the holodeck is some kind of nightmare machine (see two sentences ago), who knows if the characters retain awareness when they aren't actively simulated.

I love that Data read all of the Dixon Hill appearances, but is clearly still not knowledgable about the time period as a whole. Like he knows all the words from the books and what they mean, but he has no fucking clue why the not-plugged-in lamp doesn't work because no Dixon Hill book ever explained how plugging in a lamp works.

I liked that Geordi got to supervise Wesley doing tech stuff here, that's another nice little (unintentional) set-up for him becoming chief engineer next season.

Also speaking of Wesley, I'm glad Troi spoke up for him getting to help. I'm so tired of the "Wesley has the solution but the evil adults don't wanna listen to him" plot, he's clearly proved his usefulness, if he wants to help just let him.

I know I complained about this before and I know Heart of Glory is coming up, but man does this show not know what to do with Worf. So far, the most significant thing he did was get go unconscious in Lonely Among Us. Everyone else in the cast has at least ahad one episode where they're the major focus or they regularly and significantly interact with the plot in general but Worf is literally just there.

I love that the Enterprise has a fiction expert. This sci fi series respects it literature majors!

I've really come to appreciate Riker over this rewatch. He's got such a charming energy, especially when he doesn't have to be actively in command, but he also does that really well and confidently. You can really tell that he's aching to become captain himself, and it's a real shame that TNG never went there (and LD only went there comedically)

Beverly eating the chewing gum 10/10 no notes

Beverly clapping at her collegue getting shot 10/10 no notes

Beverly being sad about Picard having all the fun in the interrogation 10/10 no notes (although it occured to me on rewatch here, that this is probably supposed to be Beverly pining for Picard and being disappointed about not getting to be alone with him. I used to always think that I was just really bad at identifying gay ships, like Spirk never occured to me before entering fandom, but I honestly never would have read this as romantic either, if I didn't look up some Picard/Beverly stuff in Memory Alpha. I think if nothing else this goes to show how much more accepted straught subtext is than queer subtext. Cause like, nothing in this episode explicitely says that she's into Picard, all of her behaviors have platonic explanations. But heterosexual romance is so culturally prevelant that this reading will be readily accepted as the obviously and objectively correct one. Anyway what was I talking about?)

I really liked the mob boss. Just a very straightforwardly well done and entertaining villain

[yuzuocha]

𝚢𝚞·𝚣𝚞·𝚘·𝚌𝚑𝚊 | ユズオチャ

noun

1. a type of citrus tea that originated from China and is now also widely produced and consumed in Japan and Korea.

2. the owner of this ridiculous blog.

‣ about me

hi there and welcome to my primarily sfw blog! i am yuzuocha but call me yuzu :D

they/them

日本語/한국어/ENG

i write mainly for love and deepspace, but there might be some other fandom content here and there (i.e. project sekai)

this is a fic, art and incorrect quotes blog that is 16+! while i know i can't prevent under 16 folks from reading, content here can get freaky.

INBOX IS OPEN. PLEASE SEND A MESSAGE IM LONELY HERE

‣ please click below for more info and a masterlist!

‣ requests

i only accept up to three characters per headcanon/drabble request. you're free to request the same headcanon/drabble for different characters, though; this is to make requests into bite-sized pieces for me! you are welcome to also request one-shots or even multi-chapter fics >:D do your worst!

however do know that i only accept these requests as suggestions, not explicitly favors i have to do. if it interests me, you're in luck. if it doesn't interest me, you ain't in luck. only times i'd take it as a request is if it's for a friend i personally know or whatnot.

this blog will be NON-EXPLICIT for the most part, anyway. obviously there's going to be suggestive themes, plenty of implications and a whole lot of softcore (like c'mon look at my first post kek), however i absolutely refuse to write or draw outright smut. we got enough smut artists and writers in the lds fandom and i think we don't got enough fluff-angst writers HAHA

‣ things to know

this blog is 16+ — while I don't explicitly discourage readers under the aforementioned age from consuming my content, most, if not all of my content contains somewhat suggestive themes and contain suggestive, violent and/or triggering themes. additionally, the game itself holds aforementioned themes, so i thought i might as well put a soft-minimum just to give myself some peace and mind lol. please use your personal discretion before you consume my work!

i have a taglist! please let me know if you'd like to be a part of it through commenting here or through my inbox! i'll give you lots of smooches as a ty <3

finally — i have commissions available for both art and writing! please contact me through my discord yuzuocha for details :D

‣ masterlist

headcanon

‣ the horrors of gacha. — Xavier & Zayne & Rafayel

‣ kith? kith. [pt. i] — Xavier & Zayne

‣ moments of panic. — All

‣ back in the days. — All

‣ domestic times. — All

‣ a living proof of your love. — All

one-shot + drabble

‣ heartstring fortissimo. — Xavier

‣ eclipse. — Xavier

‣ drunk mind, sober feelings. — Xavier

‣ a second love at second sight. — Rafayel

‣ post-care. — Zayne

multi-fic

‣ player one, player two. — Xavier

‣ illuminate. — Xavier

but really really fast

main story ‣ prologue

main story ‣ chapter ɪ

main story ‣ chapter ɪɪ

main story ‣ chapter ɪɪɪ

main story ‣ chapter ɪᴠ

main story ‣ chapter ᴠ

main story ‣ chapter ᴠɪ

main story ‣ chapter ᴠɪɪ

main story ‣ chapter ᴠɪɪɪ

incorrect quotes

ɪ ‣ truth conundrum

ɪɪ ‣ caleb v. ladder

ɪɪɪ ‣ xavier's mc sensor

ɪᴠ ‣ rafayel's morals

ᴠ ‣ anti-consolation

ᴠɪ ‣ following directions with faith

ᴠɪɪ ‣ rafayel's rancid rizzing

ᴠɪɪɪ ‣ who let xavier cook

ɪx ‣ "helping out"

x ‣ false alarm

xɪ ‣ fiery motivation

xɪɪ ‣ self love

xɪɪɪ ‣ vroom vroom

xɪᴠ ‣ how to treat a short person

xᴠ ‣ is rafayel into choking?

xᴠɪ ‣ sanity loss documentary

xᴠɪɪ ‣ spooky broccoli

xᴠɪɪɪ ‣ xavier's tendencies

xɪx ‣ "what keeps you up at night"

xx ‣ speling is hahrd

xxɪ ‣ subway surfers was fire ngl

xxɪɪ ‣ whoever threw that shell, fuck you

xxɪɪɪ ‣ innocent until proven guilty

xxɪᴠ ‣ happy middle fingers

xxᴠ ‣ single when drunk?

xxᴠɪ ‣ a cursed bless

xxᴠɪɪ ‣ serotonin, too!

xxᴠɪɪɪ ‣ he isn't wrong, per se

xxɪx ‣ lie detector

xxx ‣ an artist's perspective, apparently

xxxɪ ‣ yeah no he bucked up

xxxɪɪ ‣ a cursed bless 2.0

xxxɪɪɪ ‣ caleb's sick of it lol

xxxɪᴠ ‣ propriety over honesty

xxxᴠ ‣ words of (questionable) truth

xxxᴠɪ ‣ caleb technically didn't lie

xxxᴠɪɪ ‣ she thought she was playing chess, he was playing 4d chess

xxxᴠɪɪɪ ‣ as long as rafayel's happy, i guess

xxxɪx ‣ who let xavier cook 2.0

xʟ ‣ nice card, shitty purpose

xʟɪ ‣ put a price tag in bed

xʟɪɪ ‣ mission accomplished (?)

xʟɪɪɪ ‣ asshole of the year

xʟɪᴠ ‣ "KILL IT KILL IT KILL ITTTTTT"

xʟᴠ ‣ local fish intentionally stranded on walmart parking lot

xʟᴠɪ ‣ cereal hits when drunk

xʟᴠɪɪ ‣ zayne can't be left alone, poor him

xʟᴠɪɪɪ ‣ a chair that can kick you

xʟɪx ‣ needs and wants

ʟ ‣ honesty so brutal it hurts

ʟɪ ‣ yea just buy whipped cream instead

ʟɪɪ ‣ words v. stones

ʟɪɪɪ ‣ living in the present

ʟɪᴠ ‣ popcorn doesn't last

ʟᴠ ‣ war of words

ʟᴠɪ ‣ it is trash can, not trash cannot

ʟᴠɪɪ ‣ newton's rolling in his grave

ʟᴠɪɪɪ ‣ carnival avocado

ʟɪx ‣ how much white stuff can fit in a mouth?

ʟx ‣ 6 cm per second, which is frankly impressive

ʟxɪ ‣ xavier v. jeremiah getting punched

ʟxɪɪ ‣ hunter's "reflexes"

ʟxɪɪɪ ‣ declaration (?) of love

ʟxɪᴠ ‣ double friendzone'd

ʟxᴠ ‣ rafayel's garden

ʟxᴠɪ ‣ reminiscence (?)

ʟxᴠɪɪ ‣ xavier the almighty sun

ʟxᴠɪɪɪ ‣ xavier the almighty mosquito

ʟxɪx ‣ the duality of fish

ʟxx ‣ didn't happen if there ain't no evidence

ʟxxɪ ‣ life is just one big capitalist experience fr

ʟxxɪɪ ‣ oof lmfao

ʟxxɪɪɪ ‣ you something get eat might

ʟxxɪᴠ ‣ father v. further v. farther

ʟxxᴠ ‣ hobbies

ʟxxᴠɪ ‣ the ends justify the means, right?

ʟxxᴠɪɪ ‣ so short they can duck liability

ʟxxᴠɪɪɪ ‣ cashed in the wrong way

ʟxxɪx ‣ love is an open door

ʟxxɪx ‣ efficiency > flirting

ʟxxx ‣ viral for all the wrong reasons

ʟxxxɪ ‣ killer fashion

ʟxxxɪɪ ‣ package

ʟxxxɪɪɪ ‣ cancelling out

[nerdygaymormon]

(asking on anon bc I’m nervous)

I’m not sure if you can help me with this, and this is kind of a heavy topic, but I figured I would throw this out there. maybe someone will have something to say in the comments?

my institute teacher told us last class that later this year he’s going to travel to Jerusalem to get training on how to give tours for LDS groups there, and next year he’s was planning on organizing a trip for our class to go to Jerusalem and see the Holy Land

obviously I want to go so badly, I’ve never really been able to go on a trip outside of the US, and I want to visit jerusalem and bethlehem and everything there … but with everything Israel is doing to Gaza right now, is that the right thing to do? is it christlike to visit a place where the government is doing terrible things to people that live there? I may never get another chance like this, and I would love to be able to go on a trip like this with all my friends before we all graduate and go our separate ways in life…but would visiting these holy sites be supporting the israeli government???

idk if you have an answer for this, but i’m not sure how to bring this up to anyone irl :(

Let's phrase it this way, is it ethical to visit Israel at this time given what it is doing to the Palestinian people?

I think you have to answer several questions to figure out where you stand and what you would be comfortable doing.

Is travel to Israel a form of tacit support for the government and its treatment of Palestinians? How do you feel about Canadians and Europeans who are cancelling trips to the USA in protest of President Trump and his policies? I don't think people who travel to Egypt or Hawaii necessarily endorse everything that happens in those places even if it is benefitting the economies run by those governments, but boycotts do have an effect.

Will your trip do harm? Is there a way for your trip to benefit the marginalized communities? In the trip's itinerary, are there opportunities to hear Palestinian voices, to shop at Palestinian businesses, and will you share what you learn with others via social media and other platforms? Sometimes tourists have the freedom to travel to places which marginalized groups within a country can't. You may be able to visit Palestinian lands in the West Bank & in Jerusalem even as they can't cross that same border into the rest of Israel. Tourists often visit the Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem while most Muslims are prohibited. If you go, do some study beforehand and be respectful of holy places, but also be prepared to ask your guide about Palestinian life and restrictions so everyone in the travel group gets a chance to learn more about the marginalized groups.

Are there comparable alternatives to this trip that you could choose? For a British person visiting California for the theme parks, or a Canadian visiting Florida for the warmth and sunshine in the winter, there are other destinations that can give them similar experiences without their tourist dollars supporting Trump's America. But are there similar alternatives when it comes to important historic and religious sites? Those are often unique and many are located in countries with problematic governments and policies. Seeing the holy sites in Israel and Palestine can't be done anywhere else. There may never be a "good" time to visit them. This is true of other important cultural sites around the world.

From your ask, it sounds like you have ethical concerns about going to Israel and ordinarily would choose not to, except that getting to go with your friends is only possible within the next two years. That is a consideration. You have to weigh whether the opportunity to go with your friends outweighs the other concerns you have.

[ultimatelyunassuming]

Raises hand. I would like to learn about Artesk

I call on you like a professor.

Anyway Artesk Carino is my oldest oc, making her circa 2016 to roleplay with a few online friends (don't ask me about specifics of that rp, it was dull, the only thing of note was a rp plot point where someones oc was kidnapped who she helped save). She's a tealblooded troll who has a quirk "Lik3 this, wh3r3 th3 'e's ar3 thr33s, and on topof al of that wond3rf>l st>ff, th3 'u's ar3 > alongsid3 th3 'v's b3ing <, so yo> co>ld t3ll som3on3 that yo> lo<3d th3m and it forms a littl3 h3art". Shes themed around hearts and love and quirks with interests that align with said theming (if the quirk didn't tip you off to that). When I was about 2018 I wanted to reboot her for a mspfa idea that never took off, and about last october I dusted her off to shove her back into roleplay, currently she's being used for one rp thats still ongoing (though shes in a bit of a grey area of 'I need to figure out where I want to take her') and if I were to enter any other rp space, theres a high likelihood I'd put her in there. She's important to me, as my oldest oc. Previous iterations of her was a thief of heart, though recently Ive flipped her into a witch of blood. If you have any questions about her, please ask, I always like talking about my characters!

[wordtowords]

The Politics and Such of "Wicked"

political - adj. - relating to the government of a country

For as long as I can remember, children's fare–whether it be televised cartoons like the Peanuts series or live-action films like The Parent Trap–has catered more to the parents rather than to their young offspring. Of course, when I was seven watching network TV's It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown for the first time along with my sister, mom, and dad, I had no idea what Sally meant when she angrily vocalized, "I want restitution!" to a stunned Linus, but it didn't much matter as the character's body language spoke volumes. Still, the word haunted me until I was old enough to look it up in Webster's. The point I am trying to make in a roundabout way is that production companies that produce family movies have adults in mind because after all, the money is coming from their pockets; and they want to be entertained as well as their kids.

This holiday season's blockbuster Wicked is no exception. While visiting family in Utah over the Thanksgiving weekend, my cousin and I made sure to cue up at 11:30 a.m. for the first showing of the film at the local cineplex, thinking there would actually be a cue. There wasn't. In fact, only about six of us adults wound up in the theater. Oddly enough, there wasn't a single person under fifty in the house. Hmm. Perhaps the green of the Wicked Witch of the West or her prior reputation in the original version of Gregory Maguire's classic The Wizard of Oz kept the sensitive LDS families away, or perhaps they read enough about it to feel as though it was more of a PG-13 offering rather than a PG. They were right to veer on the side of caution. Although much of the suggestive content flies as high out of the range of juvenile comprehension as Wicked Witch Elphaba herself does on her broom at the close of the film, Wicked may not be designed for kids due to its political innuendoes. 

My daughter, a highly educated Millennial, was lucky enough to see the original Broadway show about seven times. The upbeat musical numbers and romantic subplot hooked her and multitudes of other fans. Throughout the years, though, due to her obsession, she managed to read the book on which the stage musical and film were based and began to understand the primary theme, which she recently texted to me as "the vilification of marginalized groups to maintain corrupt power structures." I kept thinking that by releasing the film just before the onset of Trump's presidency, Universal Pictures might be issuing a subtle forewarning to our mature society members who voted for him. During his first term, wasn't he the one responsible for locking immigrant children in cages at the Mexican border? Likewise in Wicked, the replacement professor for Doctor Dillamond, a literal old goat who is forced out of his position teaching history at fictitious Shiz University, displays a caged leopard cub, signifying to the class what the Wizard wants to do to the animals that have the ability to express themselves via language. Yikes. Albeit not exact, this is a clear parallel. Like it or not, Hollywood is expressing an opinion here, an opinion that isn't meant for youngsters to contemplate.  

Some of you are probably wondering whether or not I liked the movie. I did, but not for political reasons as I really deplore politics. Although I am in my late sixties, young matinee idols like Bridgerton's Jonathan Bailey who gives an Oscar-worthy performance as the romantic leading man Fiyero in the film, can still melt me sans any splash of water to the face. Despite being gay (and aren't the truly gorgeous guys always gay?) in real life, Jon is welcome to play the leading man in my dreams any time. 

Which brings me to something significant: the reason why we go to the movies. Most of us go to escape the drabness of reality that has grown sepia with familiarity. The emerald green of Wicked's Emerald City and Elphaba's visageshine vibrantly mainly because of talent. And green is the color of spring, of eternal youth, something we all would like to hold on to indefinitely. So grab a grandchild, daughter, son, or neighbor's teen and see Wicked if only to defy gravity for two hours and forty minutes. Mourn or don't mourn the wicked, your choice. (As a postscript: Another slightly less controversial theme that the movie implies is that there is no such concept as evil since the wicked are merely misunderstood. Politically speaking, we'll see about that :). )

#word-to-words, #slice-of-life,  #blog, #blogging, #editorial, #reading, #vocabulary, #ReadersMagnet, #spilled thoughts, #personal-essay, #writing community, #writing, #truth, #society, #good advice, #Wicked #film-review #gwyn-english-nielsen

[gudvina]

Kind of an awkward question but do you think the Covey is like. The potential falls flat

So they're based on the Romani. That's good! Wonderful! Especially when they have little blonde Maude Ivory. Many cases of lighter, 'white-passing' Romani children being born to darker parents get them accused of kidnap.

The forced resettlement? Yes, a thing that actually happens. Also a point to the actual Romani in appalachia.

Being musicians and performers in addition to metalworkers(Tam Amber)? Yes! Music and dance is a big part of Romani culture, but less known is their work in other trades like tinsmithing

But other than that, what else? Why were they travelling in the first place? There is a reason most civilizations are settled. Do the Covey follow seasonal work? Except they've never been mentioned anywhere near farmwork, they're musicians, so do they have a calendar of district festivals? Have herds of animals they migrate according to feeding season and life cycles? What makes the discomforts and inconvenience of travel outweigh settling down? The money they make being musicians? Values and cultural attitudes the system would like stamped out of them?

Tbosas has the world's most self-centered narrator but even then I get the sense there is a lot more to the Covey than what Snow boy is seeing. I get they didn't have to be as repressed then, but somehow the Covey in sotr feels...so much less than the earlier book despite us being told so much more. My best guess is that Haymitch focuses on ONE Covey while in ballad we have a community

This is a bit of scroll, apologies for that. I feel like I'm reading too much into this

- 🐮

Given that the book's theme was propaganda, or better, showing what was behind the supposed propaganda in the OG trilogy, this book from Haymitch's pov with a covey girlfriend could have answered many of these questions.

Snow's pov couldn't have, but Haymitch's pov could have at the very least show how normal life in D12 when coveys were still around was like.

Not only none of these questions are answered, we are also not told where they'd be from if they were not from D12. Were they descendants of American Rromani people? Do they have at least a story that's common knowledge amongst Coveys that explain their origins?

Nothing. We are told nothing of it, and especially because of how "activist" coded LD is, you'd think she'd proudly share with Haymitch something. Anything. No, we don't get that either.

They don't feel like a part of Panem's world, but like a special ethnicity that comes to save the day given that they are related with all of D12's rebels that ever existed in history.