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baptismbaby · 7 months

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† GOD, FORGIVE ME PT. 3

mean! ellie x innocent! reader a/n: will post to ao3 baptismsbaby. sorry if this is a little rushed. smoked a blunt and brain is still fuzzy. unsure how i feel about the ending hope yall like it anyways warnings: toxic! ellie, degrading, praise, pup used as a petname, oral (ellie! receiving), strap usage (r! receiving), slight edging, possessive! ellie, reader is gagged at some point if anyone hates that creds to elliesgalaxy for ellie pic wc: 3.4k<3 part one part two

Six months had passed since you first hooked up with Ellie.

Looking back, you had changed drastically since that night. You used to be so strict with religion and refused to have any fun. It took a month of hooking up with Ellie to finally get over it and realize you could be a Christian and still have fun. I mean, it was the apocalypse. Rules haven’t existed in over twenty five years.

In the beginning, you were constantly telling Ellie “this is the last time.” She’d look at you with a teasing smile and that glint in her eye. She’d laugh it off, always saying the same shit. “You need me.” You’d go back, giving more and more of yourself up to her. Whatever she wanted, you gave to her. The more sex the two of you had, the better the friendship outside of the hookups got. Dina was extremely happy to finally hang out with both of you without the bickering. You loved Ellie outside of the sex. She had her moments still but she was the funniest person you’ve ever met. You wished she could be that way with you alone sometimes. You knew you had to hide your feelings if it meant getting to sleep with Ellie but it was difficult. Whether there was a party at Jesse’s or her place, she’d tell everyone in the smoke circle how bad she would want to fuck some random girl at the party. Ellie didn’t, of course. She’d just say that to get a rise out of you so she could tease you about it later. It hurt but you refused to let it show if it meant risking not being able to see Ellie anymore.

It was another night of partying for everyone and the girls were at your place getting ready. Ellie sat on your bed, wearing a brown flannel and some jeans. Since the weather had gotten warmer, she had trimmed her hair a bit. The way the choppy layers fell in her face sometimes made you blush. She looked so good.

“I’m thinking about wearing something super revealing,” said Dina, going through the dresses she’d find on patrol. “I need Jesse to be jealous.”

“I give it a week,” mumbled Ellie.

“I am not getting back with him!”

“You said that the last time,” you pointed out.

“And the time before that.”

“The time before that time too.”

Dina hit you and Ellie with the dress she was holding. “Stop it you two, I get it! I mean it this time.”

You looked back at Ellie who was already staring at you with a smirk. Dina groaned and continued to look for clothes while you laughed.

“The little being silent but talking with the eyes thing gets on my nerves,” complained Dina. She handed you a dress to wear and you held it up to your body. It was white and silky with a little lace trim at the bottom.

“That’s a little short,” said Ellie.

“Yeah, which is perfect. She needs to get some finally.”

Ellie shot a glare at the back of Dina’s head but neither of you noticed.

“I’ll try it on and see.”

You began to undress, turned away from Ellie. You could see her watching you through the mirror. You weren’t wearing a bra but was wearing a see through pink thong.

“Woah, where’d you find that? It’s so cute,” complimented Dina.

“I found it on one of my patrols a couple months ago.”

Actually, Ellie had found it for you.

You slipped into the dress and turned around, seeing your ass hanging out at the back. “Okay, maybe this is a bit much but it’s super cute.”

“Damn, I would so fuck you,” Dina remarked. “Please wear that to the party. At least five girls are gonna throw themselves at you.”

“Eh, that’s probably too much, Dina. We see the same people every time anyways. No one new to impress. Do you have something else for her?” asked Ellie. You raised an eyebrow at her, wondering why she was being like this.

“I have some more but-”

“I want to wear this, it’s fine,” you interrupted.

“Okay cool, we ready to go?”

Everyone nodded and started to head out. Dina made it down the stairs first, leaving you and Ellie at the top. Dina was grabbing stuff to put in her bag so she didn’t see Ellie grabbing your wrist and pulling you back towards her. She wrapped an arm around you and used her other hand to hold your hair. Her lips brushed against your ear. “I fucking told you it was too short. Are you trying to piss me off?”

You sighed, tilting your head to the side further as she ran her fingers down your neck to your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t care if you wore that for me but in front of everybody? Are you fucking kidding me? You get a taste of my cock and now you’re a slut? Don’t even think about coming by tonight.”

She shoved you forward roughly. You stumbled but quickly stood up straight, spinning around to give Ellie a dirty look. “Stop it,” you whispered harshly. “You’ll be over it by the time the party's over.”

“I mean it,” Ellie hissed. “Don’t speak to me for the rest of the night. Whores don’t get rewarded when they don’t listen. Fucking brat, you know better.”

Ellie walked past you down the stairs, leaving you dumbfounded and angry. You stomped down and grabbed one of the bottles from the table to drink on the way there.

“Woah, pregaming?” questioned Dina.

“Yeah. It’s gonna be a long night.”

You were miserable at the party. It had been ten minutes since the three of you arrived and Ellie was acting like such a bitch. You sat by her on the couch while everyone passed around a blunt. She kept skipping you, telling the others you weren’t participating.

“Dina, give me the fucking blunt,” you demanded once it reached her for the third time.

“You’re not smoking.”

“Yes I am, Ellie. Even if it means I have to roll my own.”

Dina squinted at the both of you in confusion. If she was an outsider, she would’ve thought the two of you were a couple in an argument. But it was just you and Ellie. No way there was something going on.

“You can’t even fucking roll,” Ellie insulted. You leaned forward to see another smoke circle across the living room.

“I’ll just join Jesse’s smoke circle. Sorry, Dina.”

You got up, pulling your dress down before walking over to Jesse’s group. You made sure to swing your hips a bit in case Ellie was watching.

“Why are you two arguing again?” Dina asked Ellie once you left.

“It’s nothing.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the two of you were fucking.”

Ellie took the blunt from Dina and puffed on it. “No way,” she declined. “You couldn’t pay me to fuck church girl.”

“I’d do it for free,” Ellie’s friend said next to her. When she passed the blunt to him, she made sure to elbow him hard in the side. “Ow! The fuck, Ellie?!”

“She’s gay.”

He frowned in disappointment. “Aw man, all the hot chicks are.”

Dina couldn’t stop eyeing Ellie. She was acting strange. Back at yours, she kept telling you to put something different on. Now she’s watching you intently from across the room as you do the thing she told you not to do. At that moment, everything clicked for Dina. Ellie liked you.

“So, what’s the deal between you and Dina?” you asked Jesse as you passed him the joint.

“Shit, I don’t know. Pretty sure we’re over for good.”

“That sounded convincing,” you said sarcastically.

Jesse made a face at you while he crossed his arms. “Oh yeah? What about you and Ellie? You follow her around like a lost puppy.”

“We’re friends now.”

“The way you look at her is not how you look at Dina. It’s how I look at Dina.”

As he spoke, his eyes landed on her from across the room. “Look at her. Talking up some other guy to piss me off. Ellie is staring at you. She looks jealous. I’d know.”

You glanced back but Ellie quickly averted her gaze. You sighed and looked down at your hands in your lap. You wanted to say something so badly but knew that Ellie would end it with you if you told anyone. A girl came and sat next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. “Hey,” she slurred. “Wanna dance with me?”

You looked up at Ellie who’s brows were furrowed in anger. You grinned and stood up, grabbing the girl’s hand. You led her to an open spot on the floor and pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around you as you started grinding against her with the beat of the music.

“I’m Grace,” she introduced herself. “You hang with Ellie and Dina, right?”

You nodded, too busy watching Ellie as her face grew red.

“You’re super pretty. You do a lot of that church stuff, right?”

“Yeah,” you responded dryly. You turned around so your back was pressed against her chest. Her hands rushed up and down your body until she grabbed your tits. You shoved them off and looked back at her. “Don’t,” you demanded.

Grace saw movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up to see Ellie speedwalking towards you. Grace let go of you and ran off. You were perplexed, wondering if maybe you came off as rude. You felt hands grab you and start shoving you towards a door.

“Hey, what the hell?”

You were pushed into a bathroom. The door slammed and you spun around to see Ellie locking the door. “Ellie!”

Ellie shot daggers at you with her eyes, which meant you needed to be quiet. She pushed you against the wall and held you there with a knee between your thighs. Her hands went over your mouth to stifle any sounds you were making.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She started to unbuckle her jeans, still covering your mouth. They dropped around her ankles to reveal the strap she was wearing over her boxers.

“You’re mine and mine only. This pussy,” she growled as she grabbed your clothed cunt tightly, “belongs to me.”

She kneeled down to yank your panties off.

“E-Ellie, I’m s-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

She balled your panties up and held them up to your face. “Open.”

“What?”

“Open your fucking mouth!”

You obeyed and parted your lips slightly. She sighed in frustration and reached out to pull it open further, shoving the panties into your mouth.

“This will keep you quiet,” she muttered. “You’re really dumb, you know that? Good girls don’t try to make their girlfriends jealous.”

Before you could even react, she bent you over the sink and shoved her cock inside of you. You let out a muffled groan, the feeling of her filling you up taking you by surprise. She fucked you hard but painfully slow. She’d thrust in, wait a couple seconds then do it again.

“I want you to watch,” she commanded. She grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head up so you could look in the mirror. You could see Ellie behind you with an angry expression on her face. “Stupid girl, you will never find better than me. Get that through your fucking skull.”

She sped up, making you squeal even louder. She placed both of her hands over your mouth as she pounded into you harder.

“Fuck,” Ellie whimpered. “Fuck, you look so good like this.”

Ellie noticed your legs started to shake as you felt your climax getting closer.

“You wanna cum baby?”

You whined, pushing yourself back against her so you could finish. Ellie pulled out of you and turned you around. She lifted you up onto the sink and started kissing up and down your neck. Ellie took your panties out of your mouth, shoving her tongue down your throat.

You tried to pull away to speak but Ellie grabbed your head to keep you still. Her strap would brush against your cunt, eliciting a moan from you.

“Do you think you deserve to cum?" Ellie asked when she pulled away. You shook your head no. “That’s right, baby. You’ve been so mean to me tonight. You’re lucky I’m even fucking you right now.”

“I’m sorry, Ellie,” you murmured. “I shouldn’t have danced with that girl. I belong to you.”

“You say you’re sorry but you have to prove it to me… get on your knees.”

You obliged and kneeled down, opening your mouth expecting her to fuck it with the strap. Instead, she slid out of the harness and her boxers simultaneously and set them down on her pants.

“I want you to make me cum.”

You were shocked. Ellie never let you touch her and she was going to let you eat her out? You didn’t know if you could do it since she never taught you. You didn’t want to disappoint Ellie.

“I’ll guide you through it, pup. It’s okay,” she assured you as if she read your mind.

Ellie leaned back against the wall as your face went towards her pussy. You stuck your tongue out and swiped it up her slit. Ellie shook a little, reaching down and grabbing your hair. “Move your tongue in circles,” she said.

You slowly moved your tongue in a circle on her clit, savoring the taste of her. You looked up at Ellie who was biting her lip to stay quiet.

“T-That’s it,” she praised. “My g-good girl.”

You sped it up a bit once you got used to it, Ellie’s legs trembling against you.

“Fuck!” she panted. “Just like t-that, pup. You’re doing s’ well.”

You decided to stick a finger inside her to watch her reaction. She grabbed the end of her shirt and bit the fabric, trying hard to not make a sound. You picked up the pace, curling your finger as she struggled to stay standing.

“I’m right there baby, don’t stop.”

She gripped your hair and yanked you away once her orgasm hit. She trembled as she started to come down, your hair still tangled between her fingers. Ellie pulled you up and slammed her lips against yours, the two of you desperate to taste each other.

She lifted you up onto the sink again and brushed a finger against your clit.

“You’re so good at making me feel good, baby. I bet you could make yourself feel good too.”

She stepped back and leaned against the door, her arms crossed and a huge smirk on her face. “Come on, touch yourself for me.”

“W-What?”

“I said I wasn’t gonna let you cum but that doesn’t mean I won’t let you finish yourself off while I watch,” said Ellie. She chuckled as your face grew red. “C’mon, I know you can do it.”

“I’ve never tried it, though. I prefer letting you do it.”

“I’m not touching you again until you make yourself cum.”

You whined, feeling too embarrassed to do something like that. You knew that if you refused again, she’d leave you there all alone. You slowly reached your hand between your thighs and pressed your fingers to your clit. You sighed and slowly started to move them in a circle, Ellie eyeing your cunt closely as she licked her lips.

“Atta girl,” she praised. “You like touching yourself for me?”

You didn’t respond. She laughed and grabbed your thigh gently. “You’re shy now, pretty girl? How cute. You were just fucking me and now you can’t even look at me.”

You sped your fingers up the more she spoke to you, soft whines escaping your lips and echoing off the walls.

“Good girl. You put on such a good show for me.”

Your legs shook as a knot began to build in your stomach. “El-Ellie, can I cum please? I-I’m so close.”

“Go on,” confirmed Ellie. You grabbed Ellie’s hand on your thigh and gripped it as your climax took over you.

“Shhhh, baby. That’s it. Be quiet.”

Ellie took your hand and sucked your fingers to get a taste of you. She hummed, wrapping her arms around you to help you stand. “You did so good,” she whispered, holding you close to her body. For some reason, you wanted to cry. Ellie hasn’t comforted you after sex since you lost your virginity, if that was even considered comfort. You melted in her arms and sighed. The warmth of Ellie’s body made your heart ache. You wished so desperately she was like this all of the time. You suddenly remembered what she called you earlier and wondered when you should bring it up. Ellie stepped back and grabbed your panties.

“Let me help you,” she said. Ellie pulled your panties up your legs and tugged your dress down. She quickly fixed your hair with a smile before putting the rest of her clothes back on.

“Can I ask you something?”

Ellie nodded in approval, putting her belt back in the loops and buckling it.

“You said… good girls don’t make their girlfriends jealous.”

“I did.”

“Am I… your girlfriend?”

Ellie shrugged, avoiding your eyes as she tried to focus on anything but you. “Uh… I think that’s up to you. I haven’t asked so… we really aren’t.”

“Are you wanting to ask me?”

“Fuck, why is this so awkward?” Ellie muttered to herself. “I’ve kinda been repressing some feelings towards you for a while now because I wanted this to be a hookup thing and nothing more. But tonight confirmed my feelings for you. Seeing you wearing that dress, knowing people would be eye fucking you… it made me sick. When I saw you dancing with that girl, I was infuriated. Dina kinda figured it out somehow and said I should tell you. I guess I’m not good at hiding my feelings once I have them.”

You smiled. You never thought your feelings for Ellie would be reciprocated. You knew it was hard for her to admit it, which made you like her even more.

“See, I knew something would come out of this!” you exclaimed. Ellie rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the shit eating grin that grew on her face.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I was certain that if you knew I liked you, you’d resent me.”

“Pfft, I knew you liked me. You do a shitty job at hiding things. I can’t go anywhere without you trailing behind me. You’re a pain in my ass but in a good way,” Ellie opened the door for you and followed you out. She wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to her.

“So, you wanna ask me?”

“Ugh, no. We’ve said enough for it to be official. You can’t make me say anything.”

“Aw, you’re shy!”

“Shut up…”

Ellie stopped and looked down at you, her thumb slowly brushing against your cheek as her eyes softened. “You were always mine, weren’t you?” she asked.

“Of course I was.”

“I promise to be nicer. I know I said that last time but I mean it. I like this. You’re not so bad, church girl.”

You chuckled at the nickname. “I guess you’re alright yourself, Els.”

“What if I told you Jesse and Dina are making out behind you right now?”

You turned to look and laughed at the sight. “We already knew it would happen,” you said.

“Yeah. The party is starting to die a little bit. Wanna swing by yours so you can get a few things for the morning?”

“What do you mean?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re spending the night with me.”

“Wait, really?”

“I’m not saying it again. Let’s go,” Ellie said as she dragged you out by the hand. The two of you spent the rest of the night holding each other in Ellie’s bed, talking about anything you could so neither of you would fall asleep. Ellie felt nervous about entering a relationship and still felt some guilt about being such a bitch to you. And yet, something about this felt so right to her. She was okay with changing her ways since you changed for her. Ellie knew she made the right choice and that it would be worth it. You were wrapped around her finger.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x you #tlou2 #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #the last of us #the last of us part two

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youremyheaven · 26 days

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The Internal Corrosiveness of Venus: Venusian Women & Self Harm

TW: self harm, abuse, suicide, violence, trauma

Claire had remarked that "Venus is internally corrosive whilst externally pleasant and Mars is externally corrosive but internally pleasant". This led me down a rabbit hole to try to understand whether this "internally corrosive" nature manifests as self harm & eating disorders and unfortunately, it does. Venusian women struggle with perfectionism and are extremely self-critical. Venusian energy is HARSH. Venus natives struggle to uphold a certain standard that they subject themselves too because if I'm being honest Venus is the OG "not like other girls girl", they believe they're better than others, and tbh in many ways they probably are but this also means they put undue pressure on themselves to keep being that way.

All Venusian naks are Ugra or "fierce" in nature and while I've talked about how Venusian violence and cruelty can be directed at others in my other posts, I think its worth mentioning how Venusians can be just as cruel to themselves. This is especially true of Venusian women as women internalise their problems while men wreak external havoc (like causing wards and killing people) but there are many male Venusians who struggle internally as well.

In ancient religions, Goddesses of love also had other functions or powers that had nothing to do with love

the Egyptian Goddess Isis was the goddess of love, healing, fertility, magic, and the moon. She was the goddess of life and magic, Isis protected women and children and healed the sick.

She was a great magician, whose power transcended that of all other deities.

The Mesopotamian Goddess Ishtar is the goddess of love and sexuality, and thus, fertility; she is responsible for all life, but she is never a Mother goddess. She is also the Goddess of War.

I'm using these examples to show that the ancients had a more complex and nuanced understanding of Venusian energy. One cannot worship love without understanding that "war" is a consequence of it. Love & war are not very different from each other. When someone believes in something and is willing to die for it, we find that to be very honourable. Sometimes this belief leads men to kill others over it and depending on the cause, we describe the war as "good" or "bad" (kill a bunch of fascists and then its a "righteous" war, if you kill innocent people, then its an unholy war etc). Being at a state of war describes Venusian nature very well since Venus is also connected to royalty and if you're born into royalty, you get to live a very "exclusive" very privileged life that few get to enjoy but the stakes are also that much higher since you could be beheaded or executed or exiled and live a life that is far worse than the average person.

In this post I want to explore how this "state of war" can manifest internally in an ordinary Venusian and contribute to self harm, eating disorders and drug abuse.

Bella Hadid- Purvaphalguni Moon & Rising

Bella has admitted to smoking since she was a teenager and getting a rhinoplasty at 14. Her pro ana Tumblr from when she was a teen is infamous at this point. She has never openly spoken about it but it is widely speculated that she struggles with an eating disorder and possible drug abuse as well.

“I was the uglier sister. I was the brunette. I wasn't as cool as Gigi, not as outgoing,” she said. “That's really what people said about me.” I also feel like Venusians grow up feeling really ugly and completely unaware of their magnetism. They only really grow into their looks when they're older (obvs there are exceptions) and I think being bullied for what they have and don't have are also big themes.

Demi Lovato- Bharani Moon

Demi has spoken about struggling with self harm, eating disorders and drug abuse.

Lovato said, “growing up, I had been bullied in school,” saying she “felt like an outsider," and "like an outcast,” but then she became friends with a girl who was popular. “One day, I asked her ‘how do you have all these friends?,’” Lovato noted, and the girl asked Lovato “do you party?" Lovato explained, "She asked me, 'Do you drink?,'" with Lovato saying that this was her first experience with drugs and alcohol, adding, “we experienced a lot of stuff together, drinking and using, and growing up.” Bharani being an outcaste nakshatra resulted in Demi feeling like one growing one :(((

Taylor Swift- Purvashada Rising

Taylor opened up about her eating disorder in her documentary

Lindsay Lohan- Bharani Moon

LiLo has struggled with self harm, drug abuse and battled eating disorders

Oscar Wilde, Purvaphalguni Rising wrote The Picture of Dorian Gray

The plot goes like this : An attractive Englishman's image is captured in a painting that keeps him from ageing, when he exchanges his soul for eternal beauty. But for every sin that he commits, his image in the portrait rots.

This is a very deeply Venusian story, and very specifically Purvaphalguni esque because Purvaphalguni is the height of Venus. It can be said that its also true of Venusians in general. They are outwardly splendorous, they seem to have it all together but inwardly they tend to be inflicting wounds upon themselves in order to keep it all together.

Johnny Depp- Purvashadha Moon

He has also battled eating disorders, self harm and drug abuse.

Iggy Pop- Bharani Moon

"THERE IS EXTREME, there is legendary — and then there is Iggy Pop. Beginning in his earliest days with the Stooges taunting Ann Arbor frat boys and small town Michigan folk, Iggy made an art of excess: self-mutilation, self-exposure and self-destruction. His risky theatricality required an audience to respond, participate or get the heck out of there. And the sex and violence hardly stopped after the show was over."- this is how Rolling Stone described Iggy Pop and tbh this is a very Venusian description

In 1974, at his first solo concert dubbed The Murder of a Virgin. "Do you want to see blood?" Iggy asked the crowd, which howled affirmatively back at him. Then, at Iggy's urging, guitarist Ron Asheton, wearing a Nazi outfit, whipped Iggy repeatedly. Iggy began hurling racial epithets at a black spectator, hoping to goad the man into stabbing him with the steak knife he'd brought onstage. No luck, so he closed the set by carving an X into his chest himself.

Marilyn Manson- Purvashadha Sun

He has struggled with self harm in the past (there are images online if you're interested) and in 2013, he tried to simulate self harm on stage by holding a knife to his wrist in the middle of a performance??

Christina Ricci- Purvashadha Moon

Ricci has said she suffered from anorexia as a teenager and was sexually assaulted as a child. “There was no discussion at that time about trauma, and about recovering from those things, about PTSD,” she said. As a result, she ended up “acting out and coping in ways that weren't good."

Robert Downey Jr- Bharani Moon, Mars in Purvaphalguni

its pretty well known that RDJ was severely addicted to drugs at one point and it started when he was a child and drugs was given to him by his dad:///

Megan Fox- Purvashadha Rising

"I have body dysmorphia — I don't ever see myself the way other people see me," Fox said. "There's never a point in my life where I loved my body, never, ever." "When I was little, that was an obsession I had of, like, but I should look this way,"

‘However, at a certain point, I went through some trauma in childhood and I developed a pretty severe eating disorder and manic depression, which runs in my family, so there was definitely some wrestling with chemical imbalance going on,’ she shared.

its interesting how so many of these natives begin struggling with these issues very early in life

Colin Farrell- Purvashadha Rising, Jupiter conjunct Ketu in Bharani

While he did not say that he had cut himself when he was younger, Colin Farrell had some self-inflicting behavior during his younger days. He spoke on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno and said that he used to actually enjoy pulling out huge tufts of his hair.

Pete Davidson- Purvaashadha Rising

'I used to bang my head against walls,' he admitted. 'If I couldn't deal with something -- if someone told me something sad or something I couldn't deal with I would bang my head against the wall, hoping I'd pass out because I didn't want to be in that situation because I couldn't handle that.

Melanie Lynskey- Bharani Moon

“I stopped throwing up, mostly. It took a while. But that was a big one. I had, for a very long time, been on this diet that was basically 800 calories a day, and if I ate anything over 800 calories, I would throw up,” she said. “I was never bingey. Sometimes I’d be starving, and I’d have another teacup of Special K. Then I’d be like, ‘Well, now I gotta throw it up.’”

Tila Tequila- Purvaphalguni Moon

On March 7, 2012, it was reported that Tequila had agreed to check into rehab after having reportedly "almost died" from an attempted suicide by overdosing on pills. The incident caused her to be hospitalized for a brain aneurysm. Tequila completed her rehab treatment on April 5, 2012.

Jeffree Star- Purvashadha Moon

images of him self harming once went viral

Till Lindemann- Purvashadha Sun

he's known for his SH scars and has even written poems about it in German??? its called "The poems: Knives on silent nights"

Portia de Rossi- Rahu in Purvashadha 2h

she's struggled with an eating disorder

Padma Lakshmi- Purvaphalguni Sun & Moon

"When filming "Top Chef," I consume about 5,000 to 8,000 calories a day,'' she wrote. "I typically gain anywhere from 10 to 17 pounds every season. Once I get home, what's taken me six weeks to gain takes me 12 weeks to take off. It's always a nail-biting extravaganza at fittings, praying that a few pretty dresses that came down the runway on a teenage model who is a size 0 will miraculously fit my 40-something body,'' she wrote. "Getting ready for the Emmys is always fun, and it's truly an honor to be nominated. But at the same time, in spite of my high metabolism, I worry each year that I'm not going to fit into anything nice. So, this year, I've decided my weight will not be my focus,'' she wrote. "If I need a bigger dress, so be it. That one day — or any day — on the red carpet isn't nearly as important as making sure my daughter doesn't measure her worth by her dress size."

i guess this is a more positive manifestation of Venusian self image struggles

Jessica Alba- Bharani Stellium (Sun, Mercury & Venus)

“I was meant to feel ashamed if I tempted men,” she said. “Then I stopped eating a lot when I became an actress. I made myself look more like a boy so I wouldn’t get as much attention.”

Katie Couric- Purvashadha Sun

“I wrestled with bulimia all through college and for two years after that,” she shared with Lovato while interviewing her, per Glamour. “I know this rigidity, this feeling that if you eat one thing that’s wrong, you’re full of self-loathing and then you punish yourself, whether it’s one cookie or a stick of gum that isn’t sugarless, that I would sometimes beat myself up for that. How do you have a healthy relationship with food, and say, ‘You know what, I can have one cookie and it’s OK?’ That is such a huge thing for people who wrestle with this.”

Zayn Mailk- Purvaphalguni Moon

In his 2016 autobiography, Zayn, he shared it would sometimes cause him to go two or three days without eating a single bite of food. “Something I’ve never talked about in public before, but which I have come to terms with since leaving the band, is that I was suffering from an eating disorder. It got quite serious, although at the time I didn’t recognize it for what it was,” he wrote. “When I look back at images of myself—before the final tour—I can see how ill I was. The workload and the pace of life on the road put together with the pressures and strains of everything going on within the band had badly affected my eating habits. Food was something I could control, so I did.”

Zoe Kravitz- Purvaphalguni Moon conjunct Ketu

“I think it was part of being a woman, and being surrounded by [fame],” she said. “I think it was definitely about being around that world, seeing that world. I felt pressured.” After playing an anorexic character in a movie, she hit her lowest of lows and was so malnourished that her immune system shut down. Months later, she decided to make a change. “I just felt it was different,” she said. “I don’t know… if a f—king spirit came over me and said: ‘You have to stop.’”

Mel C, Purvaphalguni Rising

"When I was in the Spice Girls, the stress of suddenly being thrust into the limelight led me into an unhealthy relationship with food and exercise,” she told The Mirror in 2012. “I became obsessed about what I ate and I cut lots of food groups, like carbs and protein, out of my diet. I survived on fruit and vegetables and little else.”

Nicole Scherzinger- Mars conjunct Rising in Purvaphalguni

"I really struggled with feeling like I fit in. I even had a hard time feeling like I fit into my own skin. I was really hard on myself and had a lot of struggles with self-esteem and a lot of insecurities,” she said. “Later on, that resulted in me having eating disorders because of my body dysmorphia.”

if you're reading this and struggling, you're not alone. please get help!! its not too late to turn things around!! youre so strong and you can do this!!

#venus #purvaphalguni #bharani #purvashadha #astrology notes #vedic astro notes #astrology observations #nakshatras #sidereal astrology #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #vedic astrology #astroblr

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 7 months

Text

Rev. 22:20 - Chapter Four: Saviours and Saints

Warnings: Talk of religion, angst, sexually suggestive language. Word count: ~3.1k

Summary: Aemond deals with the shame of his confession, leading him to get closer to the novice..

Main series masterlist.

Author's note: I do not have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications to be updated when I post a fic. Community labels are for cops.

The moment Aemond spills over his knuckles with a choked grunt, shame weighs heavily upon his chest. Disgusted with himself, he cleans himself off, the very act of wiping away his spend feels as though he is scrubbing away his irrational thoughts, though he cannot evade them for long.

Of course a novice would not be touching herself to his words, especially not while inside the confessional booth in the Sept. He is a fool to entertain such a notion, has allowed his lust and recklessness to direct his actions; but no more. He will simply stay away from the Sept, until he can keep his thoughts and urges under control, and put this woman out of his mind. Perhaps he ought to apologise to her.

I imagine taking her virtue.

He feels his cheeks blaze at the memory. How could he ever begin to say he is sorry for such crassness? Worse still, it would be a disingenuous apology because, despite their utter depravity, he meant every word. In spite of the risk it poses, he still wants her, is still enamoured by the way her eyes catch the light, the softness of her voice.

I think about how she’d feel writhing beneath me.

His chest tightens, his heart beating rapidly as the thought occurs to him that she may tell someone. What if she was so appalled by what he’d said to her that she had divulged it to one of the septas? What if they tell his mother? He feels bile rise in his throat at the image of her looking at him with the same disappointment that she so often stares at Aegon with. He really is no better than his wastrel of a brother.

Aemond drums his fingers anxiously on the arms of his chair, keeping his gaze fixed upon the flames within the fireplace. His stoic demeanour does nothing to betray the maelstrom that rages inside of his mind, as he sits and waits for the inevitable moment that his mother will fling open the doors to his chambers and scold him, just as she has done to Aegon each time he has forced himself upon one of the maidservants.

He has no idea of how much time has passed, but eventually, the door creaks open - to his surprise, not in an angry burst, but with quiet trepidation. He turns and meets the soft, hopeful gaze of Helaena, a tight smile upon her lips.

“Did you see Dreamfyre?” She asks, keeping her hands clutched in front of her as she moves slowly towards him.

As she draws nearer, he sees a golden beetle brooch clasped within her fingers, her thumbs running over its ridges as she anxiously awaits his reply. Aemond loathes the nervous habits passed down to them all by their mother - where she picks her nail beds bloody, Aegon flexes his fingers against every surface, taps incessantly against his wine goblet. He drums on the arms of his chairs, rubs his forefingers against his thumbs, while Helaena is always clutching something, fiddling with some small trinket to soothe her inner turmoil.

He keeps his eye fixed upon the beetle for a few moments more before looking at his sister.

“Yes,” he replies simply, thinking about the sorry state the she-dragon had been in when he’d seen her earlier that day.

Helaena kneels beside his chair, not a care for how the position rumples her skirts, gazing up at him imploringly. “How is she?”

Aemond is struck at this moment by how childlike his sister appears. Despite her being the elder sibling, he has always felt seniority over her, an intrinsic need to protect her. She is so innocent, so filled with wonder, and his brooding darkness has forever served as the shield that ensures her light is never snuffed out.

He swallows thickly, going against all of his natural protective instincts and his earlier thought to water down the truth and not cause Helaena upset. Right now he needs to look out for himself, to ensure it is his sister that accompanies their mother on her next visit to the Sept instead of him. So he wields the words he knows will hurt her, against his better judgement.

“She…she is in a bad way,” he says quietly, his heart aching at the pain that fills Helaena’s eyes as her brow furrows, her bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly.

He has never hated himself more than in this moment, deliberately tormenting his sister to get his own way.

“I think you should accompany mother on her next visit to the Sept, go and see Dreamfyre, she needs you,” he tells her gently.

The movement of Helaena’s fingers against the brooch becomes more insistent as she blinks slowly, her lashline becoming watery. “But…the children–”

“Will be fine with the nursemaid for a few hours while you tend to your dragon,” Aemond tells her. “She needs you more than they do at the moment.”

Helaena nods slowly and Aemond wants nothing more than for her to just leave. He cannot bear to see her so sad, to know that he is the cause of it.

“I-I suppose you’re right,” she says, uncertainty colouring her tone as she rises to her feet. “Thank you.”

She places a gentle hand upon his forearm, where it rests upon the arm of the chair, and for a brief moment her face becomes vacant of all expression. “Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike,” she says, her voice hollow.

Helaena releases his arm, sniffing quietly before moving quickly from the room.

Aemond huffs a sigh of relief as the door clicks closed behind her. He is used to his sister saying all manner of strange things, however, there is something in her words this time that unsettles him, adding to the swirling dread that plays havoc in the pit of his stomach - another piece of tinder for the burning misery that rages white hot within his heart.

He is irritated over the following week, he had assumed ensuring that Helaena takes his place on Alicent’s next visit to the Sept would give him respite from his constant thoughts of the novice, knowing he wouldn’t have to see her.

Instead she is prominent in his mind as ever, but this time when he pictures the graceful slope of her neck and the silkiness of her hair, it is accompanied by the words he’d disgraced himself with in the confessional booth.

He is driven to distraction by a combination of crushing shame and unbridled lust. Nothing is able to fully occupy his mind, he replays their exchange over and over again, noticing that he has taken in none of the words on the page of the book he is attempting to read. He has gripped the cover with such force that his short nails have left crescent shaped indentations in its leather cover.

As Helaena and Alicent ready themselves to leave the Keep for the Grand Sept, it takes all of his restraint not to rush out to join them. He longs to see her, even speak to her again, and yet he knows he must not.

He is fortunate that it appears she has told no one of his indiscretion the previous week, however, there is nothing to say she won’t tell Alicent if she sees her today. It is a humiliation he cannot face.

It is better that he stays behind and continues in his efforts to simply forget about her, cast her from his mind, and attempt to return to his life as it was before he met her.

He is filled with restless energy and attempts to burn it off in the training yard, physically exhausting himself with the exertion of every slash of his sword and defensive block of his shield. Yet, while his body aches and fatigues, his mind refuses to cease its racing.

By the time Helaena and Alicent return, he is setting down his blade for the day. He rights himself to his full height, anxiously anticipating a withering look of disapproval from his mother as she walks through the yard. Perhaps it is today that she’ll have learned the words he sullied the ears of the young novice with.

Instead, to his relief, she gives him a small nod and smile as she moves past, eager to get back inside. She has never enjoyed watching the sparring sessions that occur in the training yard.

He ponders why the novice has not told anyone of what he said to her, but has little time to indulge his curiosity as Helaena makes her way towards him, looking much happier than when they’d last spoken.

“I saw her,” she tells him brightly, “I saw Dreamfyre. She ate the rest of her goat when she saw me. The keepers said she has been leaving most of it. I am happy to have lifted her spirits. Thank you for telling me.”

Aemond nods. “I am glad to hear it.”

“And perhaps we could fly together soon, like we did as children?” Helaena continues, looking hopefully up at him. “I will have more time to, once we have the new septa.”

Aemond blinks, swallowing thickly, feeling his heart freeze. “The new what?”

“The new septa”, Helaena repeats, oblivious to Aemond’s shock, “she is still a novice at the moment, but once she finishes her training she will be able to care for the children once they’re old enough to no longer need the nurse maid.”

If Helaena says anything else, Aemond does not hear it over the roar of blood in his ears, as silent panic settles over him. He quietly excuses himself and walks back inside, shutting himself away in his chambers.

This will be disastrous for him. If she hasn’t revealed his indiscretions yet, then she certainly will once she resides within the same four walls as him. He cannot allow this, he must ensure he silences her once and for all. The risk is simply too great to leave to chance.

Aemond bathes, changing into plain looking attire and dons a hooded cloak, ensuring his dagger is securely fastened to his belt, before leaving the Keep via the passages he has seen Aegon use to sneak away hundreds of times before.

His steps are sure and quick, keeping his gaze fixed ahead as he strides through the streets of King’s Landing towards the Grand Sept. It occurs to him as he draws closer that he hasn’t fully considered what he intends to do. He has been so tightly wound over the last week, that he has sprung forth at the first opportunity for release, and now stands at the doors to the Sept, unsure of his next move.

Slipping through the slightly open door, his fingers flex around the pommel of his dagger. Has he come here to slash the novice’s throat? Spill her blood upon the chancel, for all of King’s Landing to see?

Foolish.

He should not have come.

But then he sees her.

The sun is beginning to set, and if she’d looked beautiful the first time he’d seen her with the mid morning rays shining upon her face, she looks positively ethereal now, bathed in a warm orange glow.

He watches her, entranced, feeling as though he has forgotten how to breathe. His grip loosens upon his dagger, but he does not lower his hood, choosing instead to stay back in the shadows and watch her from afar.

Uncertainty regarding what he ought to do clouds his thoughts, but he is sure of one thing; he cannot turn back now he has seen her.

It is nightfall by the time she completes her duties, and Aemond is swift to follow her as she leaves the Sept, keeping back a few paces so he does not arouse her suspicion.

The walk through the narrow street seems incredibly dangerous to him, and it occurs to him that anything could happen to her as she makes her way back to her lodgings each day. He could do literally anything he wanted to her at this moment, and she’d be powerless to stop him. He draws in an unsteady breath, attempting to ground himself and clear the idea from his mind as he feels himself stir in his breeches.

He has never given much thought as to where it is that septas might go when they retire for the evening, but he is surprised at how humble the building she unwittingly leads him to is.

Waiting in the darkness, he watches her go inside, the door closing behind her.

He steps forward, trying the handle, expecting to find it locked, but is surprised when it opens with ease. She has forgotten to lock it.

Stupid girl.

Every part of Aemond demands that he cease what he’s doing and return to the Red Keep, yet he is powerless to stop the force that propels him silently forward, carefully following the lingering herbaceous scent of camphor - it is burned regularly within the Sept, and he is certain it must cling to her hair and clothing - up the stairway and down a narrow corridor.

It feels more like a place where one might be held prisoner than find a comfortable night’s rest, a joyless existence in service of others, which each day ending in a room that may as well be a cell.

He pauses when he catches a glimmer of a candle light coming from one of the narrow doorways, illuminating a familiar head of soft hair.

Pressing back against the wall, he watches her, knowing he shouldn’t, but unable to help himself. His single eyed gaze is captivated as she removes her robes. She faces away from him, yet he is enraptured by the curve of her back, the swell of her backside and her shapely legs - legs that would look so good wrapped around his—

Screwing his eye shut, he swallows thickly, and when he opens his eye again she is wearing a nightgown. He exhales shakily, his hood slipping back from his head, watching as she slips into bed. Seeing she is about to snuff out the candle, he moves closer, telling himself he will allow himself one final look before he leaves.

He will ask that his grandsire send him to Oldtown to be with Daeron before she is ever stationed at the Keep, and put an end to this once and for all.

Her quiet voice causes him to freeze in place, heart lurching.

“I knew you’d come.”

His fingers flex uselessly around the pommel of his dagger once more as she climbs out of bed and walks slowly towards him. He is rooted in place, eager to run from her but unable to.

She stops in front of him, impossibly close, the heady scent of camphor mixed with cloves fills his nostrils as they stare at each other in silence.

“I waited for you all day”, she finally says, “I knew I’d see you eventually. It’s why I didn’t lock the door when I returned.”

“That is dangerous”, he replies in a strained whisper.

“As are you, I am sure,” she says, cocking her head slightly.

He blinks, pursing his lips, his curiosity making it feel as though his skin sizzles with expectancy. “Why haven’t you told anyone…about what I said?”

She smirks, her eyes sparkle in the dim glow of the candlelight. “You and I are not so different.”

Aemond scoffs. “I hardly think so.”

“It is true,” she insists, “we are both angry over what we have lost.”

He narrows his eye at her. “And what is it you have lost?”

She giggles softly, though there is no real humour to it. “You assume me pure and virtuous, but it is not my faith in the Seven that has led me along this life path.”

Pausing, she pokes the inside of her cheek with her tongue, choosing her words carefully, before she continues. “Before I was forced to give up my life to the Seven, I came from a noble family. I fell in love with the son of a blacksmith. My father caught us…together, and the blacksmith’s son was sent to The Wall for sullying my virtue. No rich lord wants to marry a woman who is no longer a maiden, so my family handed me over to the faith to be trained as a septa.”

Aemond feels his pulse race as he listens to her confession, certain that this is how she must have felt when he’d revealed his darkest desires to her just a week prior. He opens his mouth, closing it again when he realises he is unsure of what to say.

She takes another step towards him, her nose almost brushing his as she looks up at him. “Do you still desire me? Does the fact that I am defiled turn your stomach, or does it make you want me more to know that I am all too willing to writhe beneath you as you rut into me, as you so eloquently put it?”

His mouth runs dry. Her words are crass, sinful, and yet his gaze drops to the fullness of her lips all the same.

It happens too quickly for him to know which of them moves first, but the kiss is hungry, possessive, his hands cup her jaw as she clutches the front of his cloak eagerly.

Aemond has not kissed many women before - the servants he allows into his bed he does not permit such affection. Their purpose is for his pleasure only, he does not desire their lips upon his. Yet he moves his mouth against hers as though he means to suck the very air from her lungs, a groan of appreciation rumbling in his chest as he feels the wetness of her tongue caress his.

When they eventually break apart, both breathing heavily, the reality of what he has done settles over him like a viscous cloud. She is to be the septa for his niece and nephew, she is nothing like what he expected her to be. There is a familiarity to her that sets him on edge, and he is overwhelmed by the urge to get away. She is too much, too dangerous, he cannot get close to her.

Wordlessly he turns and walks quickly away, out into the night, back towards the keep, knowing in his heart he has done nothing to quell the deep seated ache of longing he feels for her; on the contrary, he has worsened it.

Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.

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ourautumn86 · 2 years

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W ♡RSHIP ME

EDDIE MUNSON X FEM! INNOCENT CATHOLIC READER

REMINDER THAT IF YOU FEEL YOU COULD GET OFFENDED BY THIS POST THERE IS NO NEED TO READ IT! I WOULD HATE TO MAKE ANY OF YOU THINK THAT THAT WAS THE INTENTION OF IT WHEN IT TRULLY ISN'T, I DEEPLY RESPECT ALL TYPES OF RELIGIONS! <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

Synopsis;; you didn't know what was happening with you, only that you wanted to dance with the devil under the name of Eddie Munson.

inspired by amazing writers such as @eddiemunsonhotgf and @dinodinodin0 ♡

CW;; references to the bible and church (also, eddie is not a believer and talks about his sinning and also is harsh about god, AGAIN DON'T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY PLEASE), mocking of god, cursing, drug use, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, p in v sex, masturbation, dacryphilia, worshipping kink, god kink, overstimulation, a little bit of perv!Eddie, squirting, spanking, non protected sex (GUYS STDS ARE REAL, WRAP THE DONG UP), cream pie, finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

(this actually got a little bit out of hand…)

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

Word count;; 9k

†

“Pray to me. Worship me.”

To be honest, Eddie gave a absolute and incredibly huge fuck about ‘the above’. If there were rules any supposed God had put on a silly book then there was him to break every and each one of them.

It was easy really, look.

“Thou shalt not steal.”

Jesus, what the hell? And literally speaking. Come on, he was not really gonna die from lightning if he borrowed a couple of rings from the punk store, was he?

2. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.”

I mean… More than one mother he has already fucked, so there was that…

3. “Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

… Yeah…

4. “Thou shall not take the name of thy God in vain.”

God could suck his cock, honestly.

5. “Honor thy father and mother.”

Say what now? Didn’t knew her. And him? He could suck his cock too.

6. “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.”

Oh yeah, sure. No lies, blah, blah, sin!, blah, blah. He was always lying (justifiable). Even to himself, for fucks sake! If you went and asked him if he wanted to fuck you, will he say yes? Well, that was not a great example, but y’all get the point.

7. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.”

Would you count as one of your father’s goods? ‘Cause if that’s the case… He couldn’t really help himself. He was going to make you his any way or the other.

8. “Thou shalt not kill.”

Well, except for that. He really hadn’t done that…

Well, as he was saying…

9. “Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day.”

With how you looked in that tiny little navy skirt and the way your tits pushed against your white catholic highschool shirt? He didn’t think he would be able to keep holy even in a normal day.

And lastly…

10. “I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt not have any gods before Me.”

Oh, but he had one. You.

You were this kind of fucking angel sent from heaven. With your beautiful and silky hair falling to your back in waves, the prettiest and shiny eyes he had ever seen and rosy fully glossed lips that parted to sing along with the church’s choir. With that wonderful body of yours that he would absolutely go down on his knees to worship, you and those curves, ass and thighs that he so has dreamed of making a mess of with his lips.

You had the sweetest voice and personality he has ever known, always so caring, so giving and so sensitive… Oh god, his cock pushed against his black jeans every single time a tear would cascade down your cheeks when you volunteered for those in need, too overwhelmed as you prayed for them.

He wanted so bad for you to pray for him instead, down on your knees, with those pretty lips…

He was no catholic, he never was. But for you? Jesus, he would even enroll in one of those goddamn religious schools, cut his hair and go around like a goddamn prep church boy spreading God’s word if that meant he could stay as close to you as he could.

You had noticed, of course. Who wouldn’t? He was the black sheep amongst all those white ones as the pastor went on and on towards the end of the mass. He was there every Sunday, just to see you. And sooner or later your eyes had drifted to the end of the room and met his. He felt as if he could die a happy man there, when you gave him a sweet smile before getting back to praying.

To your eyes he seemed… Different. Different than any other boy you had ever met. What was comprensible since you were always surrounded by your very well mannered and stiff classmates. If any of them were there, they would probably start saying something about how people like him would end up being abandoned by god and in hell.

You could almost hear them and your father to stay away from his kind when the priest announced that all of you shall receive communion bread from your neighbor. You didn’t know why, but before noticing, you were drifting away from the crowd and towards the back with one of the hosts in your hands, towards him.

His eyebrows rose when he noticed that you were approaching him, no one had before. So he felt clumsy as he stood up from the wood bench in which he had been sitting for the last one and a half hours.

Your eyes met his when you were close enough, and he simply stared at you, at your soft skin, long lashes and cute nose. He was taken back when your hands rose from below and towards his lips. Your cheeks were pink and your eyes darted towards one of the angels carved in the wood walls. He then understood what was going on when he noticed the little bread medallion on your fingers. Fuck, he hadn’t done the communion, so was he not supposed to eat that?

His eyes went back to your expecting face, who was now looking at his indecisive one, attentive.

Fuck it.

He thought as he leaned down and took it with his tongue. You felt your face redden when his bottom lip brush against your finger tips, his brown eyes closing as he leaned back tall, looking down at you with a smirk.

“Thanks, gorgeous.” you slightly jumped on your spot. His voice was so… You couldn’t even describe it with words. What it did to you, how your whole body seemed to have been set on fire and your hands trembled as you nodded, unable to even speak up.

You both stared at each other for what it seemed to be hours on end before you could recompose yourself and turn around to head back to your sit on the front. You were flushed, and you softly slapped your cheeks to focus. And you tried, you really tried, and yet, there you were, sneaking peeks to the metal head every now and then just to find out that he was already staring at you, making you stupidly blush every single time.

Oh yeah, Eddie loved mass now.

The best day of the week was Sunday. No discussion. Maybe a common teenager would actually prefer Friday, but Sunday was the only day of the week he actually got to see you, so that’s that. He could understand his uncle’s confused gaze every weekend when he would tell him he was going to church, but it was fun anyways. He could even see smoke coming out of his ears trying yo understand why him would be going to mass every week.

But oh, well. Anything to get a glimpse of you.

He couldn’t understand it either. It was like an obsession, taking out the stalking shit. He just couldn’t get enough of you and your discreet peeks at him, of how every time you would come to him in mass when the host had to be given and of how you always seemed to blush around him. It was instantaneous, the connection.

Maybe it was true that opposites attract. But he couldn’t focus on that at the moment, his whole being was focused on you.

It was late at night and mass had just finished, everyone was saying their goodbyes at the doors and outside, going to ride back to their homes.

By now, he knew that you always stayed inside for a little bit more, maybe to help the pastor, or pray just one last time before leaving, who knows? He would just wait for you, anyways, blunt on hand and eyes on the wood doors.

The smoke burned his throat as he dragged a new hit from it, and the cold night’s air was hitting his face and blowing his curly hair. The sky was full of stars, but the only sight he would die for was you.

You shivered as you stepped out of the church, waving a goodbye to the pastor with one of your sweets smiles, which disappeared rather quickly when the cold air hit your bare skin. Your uniform was really not made for winter-like nights, and the thin sweatshirt that you had brought with you even less. You groaned when you remembered that today neither of your parents could come pick you up and that you had to walk back home. Good thing was that you lived nearby so it wouldn’t take you long.

You smiled to a few of the families that said their goodbyes, your eyes strolling though the plaza ‘till they met the more wooded part of it and at the same time, a pair of brown ones that stared at you, glistening under the fire of the blunt in between those soft lips that touched your fingers every Sunday. Your cheeks went hot pretty quickly as you looked the other way, your steps not waiting to start moving towards the street, but you stopped halfway, something inside you tugging the other way around. You fisted your hands and squeezed your eyes shut as you stood there, indecisive but knowing damn well what you wanted. Eddie’s eyebrows rose, awaiting for your next move as he stared at your back and silk hair. Surprise filled his factions when you turned around in just a mere second, starting to walk towards him still with your eyes closed shut. As if that would help you…

Cute.

He had to bit down a smile, still looking away and leaning in the tree on his side side while getting a new drag as you closed the distance.

He stared at you when you had finally come to meet him, your eyes darting away from him just to go back in less than a few seconds. He fought the urge to smile once again when he saw you try and say something, struggling to find a way how to start.

He was so close… So close that you could smell the earthy smoke —not truly knowing what it was—that surrounded him and his stupidly addictive cologne. Okay, breathe. You can do this. You can do this.

“Hi.” you stuttered, looking up at him since he was a few inches taller than you.

He smirked as he hit the blunt one more time before temporarily turning it off since he wouldn’t want you to be around the smoke.

“Hi, sweetheart.” he calmly said, slowly blowing off the smoke away from you, saving the rest of his blunt in his pocket. His mind was the complete opposite of his appearance, it was a mess. Holy shit, you were so close. And, fuck, you were talking to him. For the first time ever. This was a fucking dream.

Your cheeks burned when you heard the little nickname, a shy smile pursing your lips. Your brain was probably burning now due to all the thinking you were doing, trying to think about something to say to him. Hell, this was hard. “I saw you on mass.” you muttered, wanting to really kick yourself due to the stupidness that you’ve said. That was something he already knew.

Eddie smiled, giving you a chuckle that made your heart skip a beat. God you were so beautiful… “I know, I saw you too, gorgeous.” And he was high. What only made his infatuation worse. “Are you not going home? No one coming to get you?” he inquired you.

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna walk the way back, my parents couldn’t come today.” you smiled to what he frowned.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he inquired back, chuckling a little bit. “Beautiful girls like you shouldn’t walk alone at night, doll.”

You froze when one of his hands reached to brush back your locks from your face, making your stomach turn.

“We wouldn’t want any bad guy hurting you, would we?” you shook your head in response, to what he hummed. “That’s right… So, why don’t you let me take you home, sweetheart?” he offered you, cautious to not come out as a creep or something like that. He really wanted you to get home safe though.

“Would that be okay?” you inquired, making him smile.

“Of course, gorgeous.” he frowned when he saw you shiver, quickly getting rid of his jacked to hand it to you. “Take this too, I’m sure you are freezing with that uniform on.” you blushed when his eyes scanned your bare legs, your soft hands bumping against his more tougher ones when you muttered a little ‘thanks’ and pushed the warm vest on your shoulders. You felt like drowning, not only because it was absolutely huge on you, but because it smelled like him. With that woody string that you couldn’t really put your finger on.

He mouthed a ‘fuck’ when he saw you on his jacket, your innocent eyes staring at him as you melted on the denim. You looked so beautiful that it made a boner start to grow on his pants. But he pushed the dirty thoughts that filled his mind to the back of it and pressed his palm on your lower back. “Let’s go, beautiful.” he smiled at you as you both walked towards his van, which’s door he opened for you before getting on the driver’s seat and starting the car. Music filled your ears when the radio got turned on, only a whisper to your ears as you were so focused on the way his veiny and big hands gripped the wheel and manhandled it to start driving away.

He made sure you had your seatbelt on, but really didn’t mind to even put his on before getting to the road.

“Where to, sweetheart?” he inquired you, turning down the music a little bit as his eyes quickly found yours, nodding when you gave him your direction.

You both were silent during the drive, not an awkward kind of it, though, more like a warm one. Your eyes wandered around the messy van, which was filled with metal tapes, some beer cans, cigarettes that had stumbled out of the ashtray and notebooks and book on the backseats, which were clearly from D&D.

“You play the guitar?” you inquired when you noticed one red pick hanging from his neck, something you hadn’t been able to see since it has been hidden under his jacket.

He smiled at your question, his body shaking slightly when you leaned over him and picked the pick in between your fingers. The design was really beautiful. “I do, actually, I’m even on a band.” your eyes widened.

“Really? What’s its name?”

“Corroded Coffin.” you nodded. “We play at the Hideout from time to time.”

“How cool, I’ve never met someone who played the electric guitar, on my school they’re forbidden. They only teach us how to play the piano.” you sighed.

“Well, If you liked I could play for you sometime.” you seemed exited at his offer.

“I would love that! I’m sure you’re amazing.” he felt himself slightly blushing, looking at you with a little grin before shrugging.

“I guess I’m good with my fingers.” he chuckled when you only smiled wider, pretty shiny eyes shining under the moonlight and completely oblivious of the lustful meaning of his words. What an innocent girl. “Okay, how about I play for you…, If you play for me too? What do you say, hm?” he said, pulling over in front of your house and stopping the car to turn to look at you. “Do we have a deal, gorgeous?” he inquired while offering you one of his hands on a shake.

You bit your bottom lip anxiously. “Okay.” you muttered, talking his hand in between yours, amazed by how his rough fingertips stayed warm even in the coldest of nights and just how long his fingers were compared to yours. A lightning went down though your whole body when his free hand reached your face, thumb pressing against your bottom lip as his eyes took in just how perfectly sinful they seemed. He dreamed of someday tasting them, breaking them with his teeth.

“I can’t wait.” he whispered, your doe eyes staring into his when he flashed you a smile and pulled away. “Now, get home safe, gorgeous. Don’t keep your parents waiting.” you nodded, following his orders and getting off of the van, not before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, a shy giggle falling off your lips.

“Thank you for taking me home. I’ll see you next Sunday!” you waved goodbye as you walked towards your door, cheeks flushed and a big smile.

He gave you a wave just as you closed the front door behind your back, his raised hand pressing against the tingling skin of his cheek, where your lips had rested.

She’ll be the death of me…

He thought as he stared his van once again.

And that was just the start of everything.

You and Eddie became close pretty quickly. Was he the best influence? Absolutely not, since he had found a way to take you to the last church’s bench just to keep you giggling and blushing all the way through mass.

He had even introduced you to his friends. They were really cool…, different. There was this little genius named Dustin, who along with his friends always played D&D Friday afternoons, Steve and Robin, who worked on the Film Store and were always discussing the best films of history, and Nancy, the sweetest yet fearless girl you had ever met. At first you felt like an intruder, but they seemed to like you as much as you liked them, since they started to invite you to your hangouts and always ask Eddie about you when they had the chance.

Your parents were surprised, if not astonished, at first when they met Eddie and your group. They were so used to those prude bible lover classmates of yours that it was a shock for them. But once they saw just how happy it all made you, they decided that they’d accept it only if you continued with your bible studies and went to church every Sunday, what you obviously weren’t planning on stop doing.

Something forbidden though, was having boys at home, even more in your room.

But the first time that Eddie knocked on your window a Friday night it all want to… well, Hell.

You were laying on your bed after having had a long bath and fully clothed on your flared night dress, reading a little bit of one of the books that Eddie had lended you: Lord of the Rings. He said that once you had finished the first one he would give you the second. You would lie if you said you understood something, if not anything. But you weren’t that far on the book yet, so maybe you just had to give it time. You were lost on the inked papers when suddenly someone knocked at your window, startling you. With widened eyes you turned just to see a smiling metal head waving at you and pointing at the window lock with a little smile. You quickly closed the book and walked towards it, unlocking it just to see the curly haired get in without making a sound.

“Eddie?” you clasped over your mouth when you found yourself speaking too loud, whispering when your lips parted once again. “What are you doing here!?”

“Just wanted to see you, gorgeous. Is that a sin?” he mocked you, wandering around your bedroom and taking every single detail in as you hurriedly closed and locked your door.

Eddie found himself mesmerized by your room, it was a complete opposite of his: clean, organized, pink…

You grasped away from his hands one of your teddy bears that he had took to inspect, his brown eyes back on you.

“You know you can’t be here! What if my parents found out?” he hushed you with a soft smile on his lips, hands on your shoulders.

“They won’t. I promise, alright? I parked the van one block down your neighborhood, they won’t even suspect. Never saw me climb in too, so we’re safe.” you seemed relieved, falling on your bed and him following, sitting on his book and pulling it off under him just to smile and look at you. “You’re reading it!” you looked at him.

“Well yeah, at least I’m trying. Everything is so confusing…” he let out a little chuckle.

“You know that if you need my help you just want to ask me, sweetheart. I can explain to you the lore in less than thirty minutes from all the times that I’ve read the saga.”

You giggled when he bumped the book on your head, making him let out a soft laughter too before he would make you blush —like always— by complimenting just how beautiful you looked that night.

Even though you always feared him getting caught by one of your parents every single time he sneaked in and, getting you grounded, with every new secret visit, that fear slowly disappeared.

Eddie made you feel good, and safe. He always talked to you about his day, giving you as much details as he could just so you could feel how being a Hawkins High student felt like. Of course, he took out Jason’s bullying and how everyone thought of him as a freak in fear you’d end up thinking about him the same way they thought about him, which was stupid, since you adored Eddie.

He was always the sweetest, always taking care of you, making sure you were warm every night after church, comfortable on his van’s seat… Making sure you had something to eat, trying his best to make you feel like the most important thing in the whole world… It made your heart beat pretty quickly when he would take your hand when you walked down the streets, making you go on the inside part and telling you to be careful with the rain poodles in case you’d go and slip.

He always let you hide on his chest when you watched scary movies with him on his trailer, and gave you his shirt and sweats —which were too big for you— to sleep if you ever decided to spend the night. He even lent you his bed and slept on the couch. He was a gentleman.

Or that’s what he wanted you to think. ‘Cause he really was no saint. He had to fought a boner every time you’d sleep over, or fall asleep on his chest after a long movie night, or ignore the way your tongue swirled around an ice cream, or how your tits bounced while running for him and pressed against his chest, or fight the urge to touch when while reading your little cotton panties would show under your night gown, or when your skirt would rile up a little bit too much exposing your perfect thighs… Fuck. He had had to go to the bathroom multiple times to masturbate and get it over with or else he would feel like going crazy.

He wanted you, really wanted you. Wanted to make you choke on his dick, to touch you over your panties in the last church’s bench while the mass went on, make you grind on him in the confessional, he wanted to hear you moan in his ear as he pounded in you in Steve’s bathroom while the others watched a movie downstairs, he wanted to mark your neck just so you would struggle to hide them from your catholic little teacher and friends. God, he was the devil, and you were that pretty little angel that he so wanted to corrupt all for himself.

He had dreamed about you, crying while being too cock drunk, begging for him to fuck you harder. He would wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air and with cum in his underwear when he once dreamed about you calling him your god.

He felt sick. He was sick. Sick for wanting to hurt you, to cuff you to his bed as he ate you out over and over again ‘till you couldn’t cum anymore, for taking a knife and cutting his initials on your flesh only to lick clean the wound and then let you taste it on his lips, he wanted to fill you up with his cum and watch it drip out of your tight little cunt just to get hard again and fuck you one more time. He wanted to spank you so you wouldn’t be able to sit on your chair next morning, he wanted to choke you and hear your whimpers as he fucked you stupid.

He had even stolen your used panties from the dirty laundry once that he had sneaked on your bathroom under the excuse to pee, just to fuck his fist —once he was back in his trailer— with them and lick the crotch as he pleasured himself while fantasizing about it being your pussy instead. He had even risked waking you up while masturbating next to you in your slumber, for fucks sakes!

He wanted to hear you scream his name so bad… Hear you beg for him to do anything he wanted to you, to fill you up, to break you, to…

“Eddie?” you sweet voice filled his ears, pulling him away from his train of thought. You two were alone for the night in your house, your parents having gone away on a trip due to work and leaving you all alone, to what you’ve asked Eddie if he could stay with you since you were scared. After a couple of minutes, he was knocking on your door with all types of movies and snacks. And there you were, in your room, under the dim light of your lamp and the television, which played ‘The Exorcist’.

It was not the first night the two of you had spent alone in your room, he had slept over each time your parents were away just to keep you company and hugged you ‘till you had fallen asleep. But something was wrong that night. Well, you had been feeling kind of strange for a while now.

It all started a couple of weeks ago where one of your friends had come to school with flushed cheeks and a scarf around her neck, which was strange since it was not that cold yet. It was not ‘till recess when she had told you all about it and taken of her scarf to show her little secret. She was full of hickeys, something you’ve learned not too long ago. You didn’t understand what had happened ‘till she whispered about the weekend he had spend with his boyfriend on her house, while his parents were away for vacation. She had given all of you clear details about how she had gotten those and how his boyfriend had —and you quoted— wrecked the shit out of her. Even though you were quite lost, you knew that whatever she had done was a sin, since they were out of marriage. But when you told her so she just went and told you ‘As if you didn’t have a boy that you’d like to fuck too.’ Your eyes had widened at her words, cheeks flushing and confusion settling on your head when suddenly Eddie’s face came to your mind.

That day, you spent the whole school time thinking about it, fire on your stomach when suddenly you’d imagined yourself with your neck full of bruises just like your friends but this time being Eddie the one that had sucked them on you. Was then when you started feeling strange, your whole body flushing and a really uncomfortable tingle in your lower parts that had you awkwardly brushing against your chair from time to time, what only made it worse.

You thought it had gone away, but then you had met Eddie the next day in church and that feeling had come back to haunt you, worsening with the little strokes that his fingertips gave to the thigh where his hand rested. You had tried and praying it away, too embarrassed to even think about what that exactly meant and trying to erase your friend’s words out of your head.

Although everything went down hill when you woke up one night startled and with slick in your panties due to a very indecent dream you had had. You didn’t understood why, but you had taken the teddy bear that Eddie was always messing with and pushed it in between your thighs in hopes that it would stop that tingly feeling that so crazy was driving you, only to find yourself pushing against it when you felt good… Really good even. Even more when you went ahead and went though your dream one more time. It was Eddie, slowly kissing your neck, skin glistening due to his tongue and little open mouthed kissed and bites that he had given you, and not really knowing how, that same mouth had ended up finding its way in between your thighs and buried himself there. But you got scared as your stomach tightened and pushed it away, gasping for air with tears in your eyes as you grasped tightly your rosary in between your fingers and prayed and prayed over and over again. Although the pain never left.

You couldn’t even look at Eddie’s face due to the embarrassment that night after church, and prayed the whole day after that, scared that some demon had come to hurt you on your sleep.

What would Eddie think of you? What would God think about you?

You had tried everything. Everything to push it away, to forget about it.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he was drawing little circles on your bare thighs, your head against his shoulder and chest, your arms around his waist.

Yet there was it, that stupid feeling once again, making you all flushed and wet down there due to just a pair of simple touches from your best friend.

“Can you… Can you please stop touching me?” you inquired him with a soft and hurt voice, trying really hard not to brush yourself against your bed sheets for that relief you had felt once with your plush. No. It’s wrong. It’s wrong…

He seemed surprised at first at your words, but quickly pulled his hand away from your skin, worry on his voice. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, was I making you feel uncomfortable?”

Surprisingly enough, you whined when you felt the urge to ask him to touch you again, feeling so overwhelmed and frustrated and scared that tears started to form on your eyes. Eddie’s widened when he heard your little gasps and hiccups, being quick to stop the movie and turn to you, his eyes finding your teary ones.

“Hey…” his voice was filled with sadness as his hands cupped your rosy cheeks, his eyebrows turned and face worried. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” his thumbs swayed the tears away as you cried, shattering his heart.

“I— I don’t feel good.” you muttered, making him worry even more.

“Why? Are you feeling sick? Does it hurt somewhere?” you nodded, crying even harder, your hands fisting his shirt. “Where? Where does it hurt?” he inquired you but you simply shook your head.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you.” and you truly couldn’t, what would Eddie think of you? He would hate you! He would leave you alone and then you two wouldn’t be friends anymore.

He looked so concerned he seemed pale. “Tell me where it hurts, baby, please?” he inquired and you only buried your face on his neck. “Please baby, please?”

You hid even more before you could mumble something his ears didn’t catch, your breath on his skin making him slightly shiver.

New tears damped his tee as you cried on his neck, him not truly understanding, taking your face in between his hands once more and away from his neck to try and understand as he tried to push away that lingering pleasure of seeing your tears.

“I don’t understand, sweetheart. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just… I just can’t make it stop!” you frustratedly whimpered, your thighs pushing together.

“What is it, gorgeous? You know you can always tell me anything, I’m here for you, okay? I’m here for you.” he promised, giving you a slight kiss on your forehead.

“It hurts very bad, Eddie.” and when he softly asked you again where you muttered a “Down… Down there.” your pretty voice came out as a whisper, but he was still able to hear it, his eyes drifting to your legs, which pressed tightly against the other.

“Down there, baby?” you nodded.

“It feels hot and hurts when you touch me and I can’t make it stop. I’m sorry, I’m veryveryvery sorry Eddie, please don’t be mad, please?” you begged him, his heart skipping a beat when you confirmed his guessing.

You were… You were, fuck.

“I’m not mad, doll.” he gave you a sweet smile as he pushed the last few tears away from your cheeks.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” he nodded, gulping hard when you squirmed under his touch once one of his hands had found his way to your thighs. “But I need to you show me where it hurts, okay sweetheart? I don’t really know what you mean.” he said, rubbing circles on your warm skin.

Oh, he knew what you meant. He perfectly knew. But it was too good to be true. You? Hot and bothered because of him? God was really playing with him right now, right? This couldn’t be…

“Can you do that for me, hm?” you nodded when his soft voice reached you, your own shaky little hand taking his just to push your thighs apart and slowly start to drag it inwards, a sigh scaping your lips.

This was one of those goddamn dreams, it had to be. It had to… Jesus H Crisht.

“There.” you stuttered when his palm was fully cupping your clothed cunt, the warmth and wetness in your panties making him moan.

“Is there where it hurts, baby?” you nodded, your eyes closing as your teeth captured your bottom lip. “Since when does it hurt, hm?” he inquired, trying really hard to stay still and not push those goddamn beautiful panties away to push his fingers roughly inside you and make you scream.

“Since a couple of days.” ‘Since the dream’. You wanted to add.

“My poor baby, all frustrated and bothered. You must have really had a bad time…” you nodded, almost crying once again, when his other hand cupped your wet and warm cheek, his lips on your ear as he whispered. “I know what’s wrong with you.”

“You know?” you inquired, your voice holding a little bit of hope in all that list that you really couldn’t understand.

“Mmh, mmh.” he muttered, thumb pressing against your bottom lip, eyes on it as his tongue dampened his own. “It happens to me too… All the time. But only when I’m with you.” you gasped at his words, quivering when his minty breath hit your face. “I know how to make it feel better. Do you want me to make it feel better, gorgeous?” you quickly nodded, your hips bucking towards his hand when his fingertips slowly and softly made its way down your slit, still not pressing into your wet folds.

“Yes please, Eddie. Please.” you begged, making him grin at your broken pleads, even more when your head fell backwards and you moaned when his touch became rougher, his body moving ‘till he now rested behind you, your back against his chest.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, his fingers touching your clit over your pink panties. You nodded. “Words, gorgeous. Use your words.” his index pressed harder and you whined, your fingers fisting the floral sheets under you.

“Yes. Yes. Feels… Feels good, Eddie.” you found a way to babble out, too out of it.

“Look at you, I’m only touching you over your panties and you are already like this.” he chuckled. “Such a good dirty girl.” you whimpered at his words, hips pushing against his touch, shaking when his lips found your neck. “Why don’t you be good for me and get rid of your panties, mh?”

You were quick to push them down your thighs, your slick forming a thick string in between the cotton and your cunt that made Eddie groan, dick fully hard underneath his jeans.

“Good girl.” he praised you, his hand going back in between your thighs, taking your breath away. “Does that feel better now?” you nodded, incredibly overwhelmed by the difference that it was having him touching you under you clothes then above. Hell, if you had been close to cumming with just your teddy bear, you were now seconds away from bursting. “I bet it does. So pretty.” his middle finger pressed against your entrance, circling it and making you moan his name.

“Eddie.” he groaned when it fell from your lips, your nails digging on his thighs as you pulsed against his fingertips. “More.” you didn’t truly know what you were asking for, but the words came on it’s own as you whimpered, pushing against his finger.

“Does my pretty girl want more?” you answered with a plead ‘yes, please’. “Then open up for me a little bit more, baby.” he said against your neck, sucking slightly on your skin and making you moan as your thighs parted to their limits. “That’s it.” you cried out when his finger slowly pushed against the ring of muscles, sinking in when it gave out.

“Eddie…” you whimpered, the strange feeling of his finger inside of, you slowly pulling backwards just to push back in once again, making your head spin, the wet sounds of your pussy receiving his digits making him lose his mind.

“Fuck.” he groaned, his hard dick pushing against your lower back. He was so hard he swore he could cum just with your whimpers and moans. “That’s it baby, you’re being so good…” your nails dug harder on his thighs when he tried his luck by pushing another finger in, this one stinging but not for long since his thumb pressed against your clit and his two fingers curved to hit your g spot.

You then became a mumbling mess, begging for that feeling again, for more from him and crying and moaning his name over and over again.

You were feeling once again that strange and overwhelming pressure in your lower stomach. And he knew, since your walls were tightening around his fingers, that you were close. Close to the best feeling that you had yet to know.

“Eddie, I…”

“You close, gorgeous? Gonna cum all over my fingers?” he muttered against the skin of your neck. “Gonna scream my name as you cum, hm?”

You didn’t know what it was, but you were so close, so close.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me have it.” and with a last breath you broke down in cries and high pitched moans, his name falling off your lips as the best thing you had ever experienced hit you. It was warm, and so intense that it made you lose focus of your surroundings, making you go blind as Eddie groaned in your neck, biting down on your soft skin. “Atta girl.” you whimpered as his fingers helped you ride out your orgasm, your thighs twitching and tears in your eyes as your walls fluttered around his rough and thick fingers. “Fuck baby, that was so hot.”

You gasped for air as you came down, your head against his shoulder and entrance twitching when his cum covered fingers left you and found its way to his mouth, licking them clean and tasting you with a hum.

You whined at the sight, making him smirk. “What is it, want a taste sweetheart?” you nodded, half-lided eyes shining with pleasure. “Then open your mouth for me.” you did so as he turned your face with one of his hands just to lean on you, his tongue sloppy but hungry in your mouth and his free hand groped one of your breasts, making you moan.

It was your first kiss, and even if you had imagined it a thousand times how it would be before, it was definitely not like that. It was messy, and hot, and really difficult to follow. That’s why you found yourself pulling him back in from his neck, wanting more of his lips on yours and your taste in his mouth. But he just wouldn’t give it to you, chuckling mere inches from your face making you whine.

“Nuh-uh, that’s not how we ask for things, beautiful.”

“Please, Eddie…” you whispered against his lips, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip ‘till your mouth was open for him once again.

“Stick your tongue out.” he ordered, and you followed, moaning when he leaned in once again, his tongue bruising your own and making your eyes roll when his free hand snuck back to your thighs, this time ascending to your tummy, all the way up ‘till his fingertips bumped against your under boobs. “Fuck, you are not wearing a bra, baby?” you shook your head, his dick twitching against your back, but later against your thighs once he had pushed you on your back and quickly topped you. “Such a tease…” he mumbled against the skin on your neck, giving you a harsh bite that made you cry and pushed him flush against you, his hands taking a hold on your pretty tits under your shirt, your nipples hard and begging to be touched.

“Eddie, please… Kiss me, please.” you pleaded for him to go back to your lips, to your tongue, intoxicated by his touch, his words and his hard dick pressing against your skin. You so wanted to be touched again, to be relieved from that pain that once again grew in between your thighs.

“So pretty begging for me, do you want it that bad?” you nodded, squirming under his touch and letting out a hurt whimper when he pinched and pulled your nipples, leaving that tingle and warmth spread on your skin. “Cant hear you baby.”

“I want it, please, please, please…” your hips pushed against his when he found his way in between your legs, wet pussy against the rough denim of his crotch. “Please, Eddie, it hurts.” new tears came to your eyes, moaning over and over again when he started to dry hump against you, rubbing your sensitive clit and making you see stars.

“Such a greedy little bitch.” you cried out at his words, all that sweet talk leaving him when his palm hardly fell on the flesh of your thigh, making your body jolt. “Gave you my fingers and yet you don’t find it enough?” the next slap made you push harder against his cock, making him groan in your chest as he snapped the buttons of your shirt just to let his tongue freely lap at your tits, biting and sucking hardly on your skin, leaving beautiful marks behind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you cried, one of your hands instantly going to take a hold on the little cross that dangled from your neck, something you did as you prayed and in times where you felt like giving into sin.

“You gonna pray, whore? Gonna pray to god while I fuck you?” he inquired, his grip on your wrists as he pushed your hands away from your necklace and over your head. You moaned when the denim brushed over your cunt once again, it dampening due to how wet you were. “He’s not the one making you feel better, sweetheart. You should be praying to me. It’s me who you should be begging and for which you’d go down on your knees, don’t you think, hm?” you nodded even though the grip on your wrists pained you and his teeth harshly dug on the skin of your neck, ‘cause it felt so good, better than anything you’ve experienced before. “What a dirty slut, giving in to me just so I make you cum, isn’t that right? Say it. Say you want me to make you cum all over my cock.” your body grew on goosebumps to his orders, you babbling and trying to make sense of the words who left your lips, receiving a harsh slap when you could find a way to pull them in order. “Come on, sweetheart, I know you want it. You want me to make you feel good again, right? You want to make me feel good?” you quickly nodded, eyes closed as he dry humped against your aching cunt. You no longer wanted his fingers, you were in need of something bigger, something that would fill you up to the brim and make you choke out on it. “Then say it, baby. I know you can.”

Your lips parted in a cry when one of his hands left your wrists just to find its way to your clit, thighs shaking as you felt the pressure start to build again in your stomach, lifting you higher and higher.

“Please, Eddie. Make me…” you whimpered when his circling didn’t stop. “I want to cum on your cock.” you managed to say, not really caring anymore about the eyes that watched you up from the sky. If God loved you…, then why would he make this a sin? Why could something that felt so good be bad? Maybe Eddie was right, maybe it was him your truly God.

You found yourself tugging against his hand and trying to push him back to your core when he pulled away, leaving you with an orgasm that never came and shaking on your place, begging in between little whispers and mutters.

“Fuck. Look at you. All messed up and I haven’t even begun to fuck you. You are gonna do good for me, isn’t that right baby? You are gonna take it, gonna take my cock and cum on it over and over again, and fucking take it.” when he finally freed your wrists, your hands quickly searched up for him, his own unbuckling his belt as you nodded, pushing his jeans and boxers —wet with precum — down his thighs, freeing his aching and swollen dick, which bumped against his happy trail. You eyes widened at the sight. So that was what had been poking you that whole time. It was strangely beautiful. Mushroom tip wet and red, great length and girth with a couple of veins on its side… It had a little curve too. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me, gorgeous?” you nodded, eyes never leaving his cock when his hand gripped and started moving around it, soft groans that made your pussy clench leaving his lips. “Then why don’t you open up yourself for me, hm? Let me see that pretty pussy of yours.” you moaned at his hungry gaze, tongue sliding through his bottom lip as your hands snaked down your chest and stomach to your thighs and later on, your folds, your fingers digging on your wetness just to open them up, giving him a full view of your twitching hole and clit. “Fuck. Atta girl. You’re so good baby, so good for me.” you whimpered, hips pushing against his own when he was once again in between your thighs, tip sliding though your folds and bumping your clit, making you moan and your head fall back.

Your hands quickly found the bottom of his shirt, and later, his bare back, your eyes wandering on the ink that decorated his skin. You’d seen it before, of course, since he mostly wandered around shirtless in his van, but it never failed to amaze you. It was just so beautiful… He moaned when your nails dig on his shoulder blades, his dick twitching against your entrance and slightly pushing against it and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Eddie, I need you, please God, I need you…” you babbled out, pushing against him and pulling him closer, the grip on your hip tightened as he smirked.

“Who are you begging to baby? Me or God?” his mouth hovered over your neck, his tongue flattening in a long wet strip from your collarbones to your ear, whispering there and making your skin prickle. “Or maybe I’m both?” you moaned and he just smiled wider. “Yeah?” his eyebrows rose as you nodded, bottom lip in between your teeth and breath hitching when his tip pushed inwards once again, teasing you. “Am I your God, sweetheart?” you nodded again, moaning when he softly bit your jaw. “Then pray to me.” he mumbled, his tip finally pushing and gaining a lustful and painful whine from your lips. “Worship me.” he groaned as he slowly thrusted in your wetness, cursing under his breath since you were so tight he felt like exploding.

Sure, it hurt. It was your first time. You hadn’t even ever touched yourself before that night, Eddie’s fingers doing the honors to let you know that that kind of pleasure was possible in a human being. And that it was okay. Your bedroom floor hadn’t cracked open to let you fall to Hell, like you’d feared, instead, rising you to Heaven, higher and higher above the clouds and nearer the sun.

He was so big that you felt like dying, so heavy and warm inside you that had you all messed up and crying under him due to the desire and pleasure that surrendered you to his touch. Your tears bringing him to groan as he bottomed out, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t yet believe that he was inside you, fucking you, making you cry and beg for him. “Fuck.” he cursed, trying to focus on not cumming on the spot, trying to ignore the way your walls surrounded him and your body twitched, nails digging in his back as you rocked against him. “So good, baby. You’re such a good girl.” you whimpered, his hands wondering around your body and giving you soft squeezes as encouragement. He was waiting for you, waiting for the pain to dissipate and you to get used to him being deep inside you. When your rocking became more noticeable, he smiled at your pretty moans.

“Eddie…” you called out for him, gasping for air when he pulled out ‘till only the tip remained inside and thrusted back in, hitting something inside you that made you see stars and cry out.

“That’s it.” he cooed, pounding on you once again, hair caressing your chest and his lips brushing against yours. “Such a pretty girl taking my cock.” you whimpered, his tongue pushing inside your mouth and kissing you dirtily as his groans made you gasp. It was too much. Too much. “Take it, doll. Take my cock. Just like that, fuck. Good girl.” you moaned his name as his hips started to take up on speed. “You like that? Like my cock? This sweet pussy of yours seems to love it.” he smirked as a new thrust let you hear the dirt sounds of your juices against his dick. “So greedy, sucking me in so good. Such a slut.” you screamed when his hand fell harshly against the side of your thigh.

The only thing you could do was moan his name over and over again, the constant hitting to that sweet spot inside you driving you crazy and nearing you to that now known feeling of relief.

“Look at you, so cock drunk you can’t even talk.” he laughed, thrusting harder, deeper, faster… “You’re drooling all over yourself, baby.” you gagged when two of his fingers went into your mouth, drool dampening them and spilling over your chin. “What a pretty girl. So pretty letting me fuck her just how I want.” he moaned when your walls tightened around him. “Taking me so good. Such a good little toy.” you cried, his fingers making your pleading all muffled and broken. “You liked that, baby? Like me to treat you badly?” another slap on your thigh had you nodding like crazy, his name falling off of tour lips when his fingers left your mouth only to wrap around your throat, making the oxygen hardly full your lungs and blood flow to your brain.“I’m sure you’d let me cum in you, isn’t that right. I can bet you even want it. Want my cum filling you up so good you’d beg me for it every goddamn day, isn’t that right, gorgeous?” you nodded, begging for it and making him grunt on your mouth, his tongue pushing against your lips. You choked at the feeling of his fingers digging on your neck, his name falling off your lips like a church song.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…” new tears streamed down your face when his fingers found your clit. And by the way you were tightening around him he new you were close.

“Gonna cum baby? Gonna cum on my cock?” you nodded, moans closer to each other. “What a good girl. Cum for me baby, let me hear you.” you didn’t even wait to do so, cumming so hard you swore the world was falling to pieces around you, your sweet choked out whimpers making him lose control, fucking you harshly and mercilessly, your hands leaving his shoulders to press against his stomach, scratching him when he wouldn’t even let you rest from your high, which never seemed to finish.

“Too much, it’s… It’s too much, Eddie, please…” you begged, choked by his hand, feeling the constant pounding build something different inside you. “Stop! Stop… Something’s… Something’s gonna come out!” you begged, but he didn’t seemed to listen, too out of it due to just how pretty you looked crying and getting the shit fucked out of you by his cock.

He moaned at your arching back and high pitched scream, juices gushing out of your pussy and dampening his cock, thighs and your sheets. His eyes widened when he seemed to understand what had just happened.

“Did you just… Fuck baby. Did you just squirted?” you were a crying mess under him, too overwhelmed to even answer or really understand what had just happened. “Fuck, that was so hot. I’m gonna fucking cum.” he moaned as his thrusts became sloppier and his groans louder, fucking you faster but not as deep as he sought his own release while his name fell off your lips over and over again. “y/n, ah fuck, so good, I’m gonna cum so hard… Gonna fill you up so good, so full…” he moaned when after one, two, three more deep thrusts he spilled in you, painting your walls in white and making you moan at the feeling, your name falling off his lips on whimpers when his arms gave out and fell on top of you.

The two were a goddamn mess, all sticky and sweaty, you whimpered when he kissed you once again, this kiss being sloppier and more lazy, sweet. A little gasp left your lips when his fingers tightened around your necklace and pulled, stealing it from your neck. “You won’t be needing this anymore.” he smirked, instead taking his own off his neck, the one with his red pick dangling, and pulling it over your head. “Since from now on you’d be on your knees for me, hm?” you nodded, sighing when his lips where back to yours, hissing a little bit when he pulled out of you, cum dripping down your thighs onto the wet sheets as he put on your own necklace, the cross shining under your lamp’s light. “You’re mine now, sweetheart.”

thanks to everyone who comments, likes and reblogs, it really helps this blog to reach more and more people!!! hope y’all liked this post! <3

also, thanks for the 400 followers! y’all are the best!!!!

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things season 4 #st4 #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader

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worm-on-my-way · 10 months

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honestly i feel like when people say noel should have been the angriest boy in town or smth i feel like they deeply misunderstand what they meant by that or what the romantic ideologies even were.

when they call him a romantic they mean it as in the romantic era so i just wanna list some of the stuff cos i have been learning about it and its super interesting

the romantic movement was a protest of sorts towards society moving towards a more modern world, it countered industrialism (factories and big office buildings), urbanization (cities and the removal or changing of land for human habitation), consumerism (the process of buying and selling at large rates) and secularization (lack of spirituality or religion)

the romantics main beliefs centered a lot around the idea of the self, innocence, the deification of untamed nature and a sort of manic expression of emotion, they were artists and poets and writers and musicians who made pieces criticizing the afformentioned topics or praising what they deemed good. (fun fact the romantics actually created the word "sublime" as a way to describe the awe of nature and how it compares to humanity, they were very big on the humans being less than the world around them type mindset)

so to link some of their beliefs to noel,

again they were big on the sense of self so a story that was basically a self insert works very well

monique is a very emotionally driven character, the story was very much focused on the drama of her suffering, every action she made was emotional

the idea of the tragic hero is very much pushed for in moniques story i think because we mainly get to see her side of the story and a lot of sympathy is put on her tending to make her flaws or bad actions justified (the romantics were exremely egotistical)

the setting of the story being post war france and focusing on the grimey dark side of the city that isnt always shown, france is portrayed as a very mournful and angry place with a lot of suffering and that very much alines with the romantic mindset (but also if the positive sides of paris were to be shown it would also make sense refrence 'composed of westmister bridge' by william wordsworth)

the scene of the priest leaning down to monique while she was on her death bed and asking her if she wished to say something to god and her choosing to basically challange or insult him was a good representation of the romantic beliefs towards the christian church, while the romantics were supportive of religion and spirituality they had a lot to say about the church mainly of its corruption as back during that era the church had much higher influence and some of the blame for that could be shoved onto the church.

the idea of innocence also comes up but this time as the lack of it being a negative thing, monique selling her child may also be used as an analogy here

the idea of nature and its basically godly status does not seem to be present in the life of monique but we will take what we can get i suppose

ok my little essay is over i just wanted to rant about this because its so cool anyway go read 'London' by Blake peace out

#why did i write this #i feel very stronly about this subject apparently #i have been enjoying my english classes #ride the cyclone #noel gruber

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mania-sama · 2 months

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Fyodor Dostoyevsky and Crime and Punishment: Short Bungou Stray Dogs Analysis

Finally finished Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. i might do a post talking about my actual thoughts on the book, but not right now because I'm INSTEAD gonna talk about BSD Fyodor because, if I'm gonna be honest, a large part of the reason I read this book was to see if I could get an insight on what his ability could be (obviously I also read it because I know it's an extremely influential book to the psychological thriller literature genre, and it's made me want to read more of his books because I am absolutely entranced by his writing style).

SPOILERS: This book did NOT give me a single damn clue to Fyodor's ability.

However, I do have a better understanding of why Asagiri chose to write Fyodor in that specific way, with the added effect of making Fyodor much more understandable. I have a better appreciation, I think, for Asagiri's character writing. Let me explain:

The large, overarching theme of C&P is the idea that some people are naturally born with the right to kill. That is, people are naturally born into two categories: "Ordinary" and "Extraordinary". The majority of the population falls into the former - they live their lives in submission to the law and to those above them. In essence, they do not have the "right to kill"; they are otherwise overcome with guilt, regret, or simply caught for their wrongdoings.

The latter category has very few people in it, and for a simple reason - they are the ones who are, essentially, above the law, and therefore, the lawmakers. They are the ones who lead the revolutions, sit on the throne, and most importantly, kill when they need to kill and do not hesitate to "step" over their crimes as nothing more than the necessity to power. They are not caught. In fact, they are hailed as the greatest leaders. Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, and his most constantly referred example, Napoleon. These are the born with the "right to kill".

The main character, Raskolnikov (of whom I will be calling the affection Rodya because I am NOT spelling his name over and over again), believes himself to be a "Napolean". Rodya is the one who came up with this theory in the book, after all. However, he finds out, near the end, after several blunders and mental breaks, that he is not one of the people who can "step" over their crimes. He hesitated before killing his target. His guilt for his two murders sent him into a feverish state for days on end. He walked to the police station to confess his crimes a million times before finding some reason, right before he was meant to do it, to chicken out and continue living life under this ever-evolving notion that he was sorely mistaken about himself. Rodya is not the "Napolean" he thought he was born to be.

How does this relate to the Bungou Stray Dogs character? I believe that Fyodor is, essentially, the embodiment of the "right to kill". He is everything that Rodya thought he was, which is an excellent analysis on the part of Asagiri. One of the first things Fyodor does is kill Ace, then a relatively innocent child, Karma. He does this without blinking, without a hint of remorse, and proceeds with his day. He knows that this is his right, that he is the one above others, that he can kill and he cannot be caught for it. He claims to have mastered and tamed his own ability. Why? Because he is the "Extraordinary."

Another theme that I find quite intriguing is religion. In truth, it really isn't that prevalent (though there are a great many Biblical quotations and references throughout) until the last part, Part 6, of Crime and Punishment. Rodya has a near-constant epiphany with religious belief, even at one point stating, point-blank and in irritation, that God isn't real and He certainly isn't helping anyone in the mortal plane. He oscillates between claiming that the "Devil" forced him to kill, to saying that believers are frantic and stupid, then to kissing the dirty ground in repentance for his crimes. He state of mind ends in that repentance state, a supposed believer and eager to start his life anew.

To make Fyodor a devoted believer in God, with a set viewpoint and acting as an executor of God's will, is, once again, an excellent choice. Rodya's irritation and inner turmoil were one of the many reasons why he failed miserably in maintaining the secret of his crimes. Fyodor is none of those things: he is calm, cool, collected, and set in his ways. Interestingly, in Crime and Punishment, the vilest character also seems to have no particular issues with religion himself. And he, for the most part, gets away with his heinous crimes completely. This battle of belief, and relating it to God, provides a healthy insight to why Fyodor has obtained the "right to kill", versus Rodya, who was born "Ordinary."

The last point I want to seriously touch on is less about Crime and Punishment and more about the author himself. However, I did learn about this through reading the translator's notes (the translation I read is by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, Second Edition (2021), Vintage Classics). Dostoevsky was hugely indebted to Nikolai Gogol as a successor to Gogol's ingenious literary developments in "fantastical realism" and satire. Dostoevsky made several references to Gogol's works in C&P, and none in a critical manner. In the animanga, the roles are completely reversed; Nikolai is the one chasing after Fyodor, admiring his intellect and "ingenious" with the eventual goal of setting himself free. This idea of flipping authors' relationships on their heads is part of what makes Bungou Stray Dogs so entertaining to consume, and it takes a great deal of research and effort to be able to adjust these relationships so that they clearly reflect the real-life ones.

As for one afterthought, the name "Rats in the House of the Dead" appears to be a clever play on the Dostoevsky book Notes from the Dead House. I haven't read this book yet, but I want to (along with Notes from Underground). I'm curious to see if there is any further correlation, but I would assume not, considering the contents of the book.

NO. I did NOT find literally anything that could help me decipher Fyodor's ability. Rodya literally confesses his crime like a week and a half after he commits it. No character in this novel, nor theme, reflects whatever the h e double hockey sticks Fyodor has going on in BSD. I have theories, but they have literally nothing to do with Crime and Punishment outside of the base fact that his ability has something to do with killing (which we already knew). Woe is me. I'll get over it, I guess.

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queen-beefcake-sqx · 10 months

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Please do your Sanctifying Kim Take!

Perceiving that man through HDB coloured glasses put me off of most fandom depictions of him. Not to mention how absolutely tiny he's depicted when he's of completely average size. (2-3inches shorter than Harry who is above 6ft. Like I get people do be havin size kinks, but that man's not short)

Canon Kim is the most trigger happy cop depicted in the entire game. He shot 6 kids people between working in juvenile detention and processing, is a severely repressed speedfreak with unprocessed grief (still working Dom's cases) and a wild card (not above using Harry's amnesia to manipulate Joyce when he knows him for a couple of hours), who can maybe have 2 Auth over world soggiest superstar but let's be honest don't we all?

He is so petty that he will die in the tribunal if you give away his pen lmao. Like that man is literally two steps above Harry when it comes to being a weird cop, and that's being lovingly understanding. He needs Martinaise just as much as HDB does.

op I am holding your face gently and shaking like a wet chihuahua. you, you get it.

Here’s my thing — as a general theme, I’ve noticed fandom takes seem to lean into the belief that because Harry’s deification of Dora crashed and burned so spectacularly, that (1) deification of Kim would be just as unhealthy and (2) Kim would outright reject that kind of worship.

And like. Okay. I can see how you’d make a case for that, sure. Except as you pointed out Kim is actually really fucking weird, and damaged in his own way, and most importantly — Kim wants to be cool. There’s a purple check that outright states Kim values being perceived as cool FAR MORE than he lets on. I’ve already written a post that mentions how significant it is for Kim that Harry thinks he’s cool, and what I’m gonna say next is an extension of that:

I think, somewhere deep down and repressed, Kim would actually love being deified by someone, and if Harry put in the work to have a healthy relationship with religion, they could actually make that dynamic work.

Long thoughts and explanation under cut:

Alright a little background on me: I was raised Unitarian Universalist and have a history of deifying my lovers. Harry’s anguish over Dora was very heartbreakingly familiar (although I didn’t destroy my life quite as spectacularly), and the way Harry uses inquiry to engage with belief systems (personal, political, scientific, and religious) is VERY Unitarian. One of our precepts is literally the constant and continuous search for truth and meaning in the world, and that’s Harry’s whole MO. So a lot of this is personal experience coloring interpretation.

A few years ago I wrote a piece of meta about why Tian Guan Ci Fu, a novel about a worshiper’s love for a prince turned god, is better treated as a fairy tale instead of a typical character-driven novel. I bring this up because in the meta I set forth that there were three really big themes that the story teaches us about divinity:

Books Two and Four encapsulate Xie Lian’s biggest lesson - that no one person can hope to end all suffering, even a god, and that putting a person on a pedestal places unachievable expectations upon them.

The rest of the books deal with two different but tangential lessons — devotion means seeing the best in people, regardless of their flaws; devotion also means inevitable destruction when you are not valued to the same degree.

I bring this up because, incidentally, these are the EXACT same themes that Disco Elysium deals with in regards to deification and devotion. I firmly believe the rest of the text about Innocences corroborates this, but even just looking at Harry and Dora, these themes are SCREAMINGLY relevant. Harry destroyed himself when Dora, his Innocence and god, left him. Their relationship was never really equal — there was a class difference, the abortion and difference in want for parenthood, the fact she walked out on him at least one before. Harry placed Dora on such a high pedestal that he set her up to fail him when she couldn’t handle Harry’s addiction and deteriorating mental health at a job she encouraged him to pursue.

Because a really important caveat about those themes I didn’t elaborate on — “regardless of flaws” doesn’t mean never acknowledging them. I really think Harry got into his head that Dora could truly do no wrong and found himself increasingly hurt and floundering when she proved just how wrong that was, and instead of acknowledging things they BOTH needed to work on — to do better, to improve, to grow — Harry got angry, resentful, and depressed and Dora got out of there.

And I don’t blame her, nor anybody else who did the same. I don’t blame Jean’s anger with Harry’s carelessness with his life, even if the way he expresses it is actively harmful. But the problem is Harry is a vast, vast soul — he feels things very deeply and extremely. I like fics where he learns to work through it and love a person to a Normal(tm) degree, but there’s a part of me deep down that feels like that is impossible for him. There is vitriol or there is devotion and there is little to nothing in-between for him, and for him a healthy relationship isn’t less devotional/religious as much as it is reconceptualizing what it means to be divine — stealing from my TGCF meta, he needs to remember that deities were human before they were ever his god, and as someone who’s worked as a cop, he should KNOW how messy humans are.

And minus himself, fuck if there isn’t a human messier than Kim Kitsuragi.

I’ve written a bit about Kim’s self-image and the significance of Harry finding him cool before. Kim is honestly a mess. He’s implied to be still struggling with the death of his partner some time in the past, is trigger happy and hates it, and is also implied to be ostracized from his coworkers. Kim does his job because he genuinely thinks it’s one of the only ways he can do good under a military regime that’s got airships ready to attack at a moment’s sign of rebellion. He smokes one cigarette a way to challenge his own volition and give off an air of untouchability because he has to be cool, he has to, he has no power in his life if he doesn’t!

But I genuinely believe that cool is tested at every turn, and I think there’s very few people who see the cool without seeing everything else about him — all the things he’s ashamed of, that make him feel lesser or othered. And Harry sees all those things over time, with a thorough enough run — he learns about “Kimball” and the bad eyesight and his fierce protection of his status as a “true Revacholiere”.

But it’s day one that Harry can call Kim cool. Regardless of flaws you uncover or not, Harry can see Kim as someone to be admired. Because that’s what Harry does with people he likes. And when was the last time anyone called Kim cool and meant it genuinely?

I think it’s noteworthy that Kim tries to stay humble when Harry gets excited about Kim — he downplays himself or pulls Harry out of flights of fancy about the degree of his “coolness”. He reminds Harry that he’s human… even if inwardly he preens at praise and recognition. (I’m too lazy to go through the Fayde viewer right now to back myself up, but just really pay attention to his Empathy checks sometime). Kim keeps Harry from constantly putting him on a pedestal like he did to Dora.

It’s also noteworthy that regardless of what a hot mess you are re: addiction, Kim still respects you as a detective and will defend you to your precinct. Remember that third theme, about relational devotion? Devotion doesn’t work if you’re deifying someone who doesn’t respect you, and thus won’t hold you to the standard of their divinity. There’s a thing in teaching where teachers want to shy away from difficult or disruptive students, thinking we’re accommodating them when in reality we’re not challenging them and are disrespecting their right to learn. Respect also means setting boundaries and trust, and I don’t know how much of either Dora and Harry had by the end.

Kim sets boundaries right off — No, we will not talk about the pissing contest until the field autopsy is done, don’t even try asking again. Yes, I do think now is a bad time for a drink and you should stop being careless with your life. No I will not tell you a secret about myself. Kim isn’t afraid to draw lines in the sand with Harry, because not only does he respect himself, but he wants to see that Harry respects him, too.

And in exchange, Kim displays his respect openly in front of peers — in front of the organization he’s worked to protect his reputation within — to defend Harry. Known drunk, bad-cop-or-cop-with-bad-days, sad sack Harry Du Bois. It’s acknowledgement from the object of his devotion that he’s done good work and can do more, if he keeps putting in the work to get better.

The point is — I don’t think Harry can change how he loves people, I think its just inherent to who he is as a person, but devoting himself to the altar of Kim Kitsuragi might actually work, if only because Kim wants that worship and will hold Harry accountable for not letting it consume them both.

#say more sadie #sadie writes meta #disco elysium #kimharry #I have so many more words about this but it’s less meta and more just hypothesizing how this kind of love would develop #I just realized I linked the same meta post twice lmao I don’t even care

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animebw · 7 months

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I've been struggling to figure out how to write this post for the past couple weeks. Part of me thinks I shouldn't bother writing it at all. Not like my words will accomplish much in the grand scheme of things. But if I don't say anything, these thoughts will just keep gnawing at my mind like caged animals. And as the chaos in Palestine shows no signs of slowing, I need to get this out before it's too late for my words to do anything but cast regretful looks back at a moment I was too cowardly to add my voice to.

So.

Most of you don't know this, but I'm Jewish. Not incredibly so; my dad's side of the family is full of active temple-goers and worshippers, but I've mostly just tagged along for holidays and bar mitzvahs. It's a part of myself I used not to think that much about, just one aspect of my life among many. But in recent years as right-wing anti-semitism has ramped up, I've begun appreciating my Jewish connections more and more. Judaism may not be a religion I follow, but it's been an integral part of my culture and community over the years. It's the connections I share with my extended family who I usually only see a couple times a year on Passover and Hannukah but nevertheless tie us together unshakably. Being Jewish is an indelible part of me, and I've always wanted to make a more active effort in connecting with and exploring that part of my heritage. There was even a time back in college where I was tentatively planning a birthright trip to Israel to connect with my ancestral roots or whatever. Classic post-graduation travel abroad stuff.

It feels really weird to think back on that now.

I've never read much of the Torah, I admit. Not like I could, since I never learned Hebrew. But everything I've picked up about Judaism over the years has overwhelmingly painted it as a call for compassion, kindness, and community. Yes, the world can be cruel, it says, which is why we must add light to the darkness wherever we can. Celebrate the freedoms we've won. Cherish the bonds we've forged. Weep even for those who've wronged us as they suffered in turn from God's judgement. Judaism, to me, has always been about how absolutely essential it is to choose love over bitterness and hatred. It is our responsibility to cultivate a kinder, better world, so those who come after us need not suffer the same ills as us. It's been a comfort in many rocky periods of my life.

And it is with that perspective that I say unequivocally: what Israel's government is doing to Palestine is indefensible. Bombing hospitals, dropping chemical weapons, denying critical aid to innocent civilians trapped in the barrage, even bombing safe routes they themselves told Palestinians to take. Displacing people from their homes, their lives, their dignity with no regard for their basic humanity. Speaking with increasingly dangerous rhetoric with a desire to wipe the entire population off the face of the map. Never mind the decades upon decades of abuse that Palestine has already suffered under Israeli occupation, second-class apartheid citizens in their own homeland. There is no excuse on the face of the planet that can justify this cruelty and carnage.

Yes, Hamas are bloodthirsty terrorists themselves, and there can be no peace until they are brought to justice. But Israel's actions in response to the October 7 attacks have long crossed the boundaries of justified retaliation. What Bibi Netanyahu and his far-right government are enacting upon Gaza is exactly the same breed of genocide that has been enacted upon Jews across the world throughout history. From our subjugation in Egypt through the Holocaust, we know all too well how it feels to face this evil, see it rip through our communities as it seeks to tear apart the fabric of our very personhood. So to see the craven extremists in Israel's government invoke those horrors in an attempt to justify subjecting another downtrodden, oppressed people to the same fate... I don't think I can properly describe how angry it makes me.

Netenyahu and his government do not speak for all Jews. Hell, according to recent polls, they don't even speak for most Israelis anymore. They do not get to claim Judaism for their own murderous purposes. They do not get to use my voice as justification for their war crimes. They betray the soul of this culture with every hospital they blow to bits and every scrap of aid they deny the suffering children next door. And I refuse to be silent in face of their propaganda. I refuse to let this culture, which has been nothing but a source of kindness and community to me, to be weaponized to excuse the same monstrosities we celebrate rising above every year. I refuse to accept their definition of Judaism as long as I have breath to speak against it.

Palestine deserves freedom. Palestine deserves self-autonomy. Palestine deserves the same kindness that Judaism preaches to all downtrodden people of the world. And Israel must stop this senseless slaughter before their history of surviving the world's horrors ends with them becoming the horror in someone else's scripture. Find and destroy Hamas without punishing the people of Gaza- over half of whom weren't even born when Hamas came to power- for their crimes. Work toward a two-state solution where Jews and Arabs, Israelis and Palestinians, can live side by side in solidarity of the trials they've both overcome. Remember compassion in a world that venerates blind hatred. Remember the kindness we claim rises above all attempts to squash it down. Remember that the heart of Judaism is supporting those who struggle through darkness, helping them find their way out into the light.

Remember who we claim to be.

And refuse to let us be defined by death.

#FreePalestine

#politics #israel #palestine #gaza #free palestine #not anime #important #judaism #jewish

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world-of-wales · 1 month

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The Indian PM is asking for votes in the upcoming election by saying that voters shouldn't support the opposition leaders coz they eat........Non-vegetarian food.......

This isn't him relating environment problems and veganism/vegetarianism, but rather him campaigning that in a secular country only his party is the best because they follow the moral and vegetarian majority religion. Which is funny in itself since, except for North India, the rest of the Hindus in other parts consume all kinds of non vegetarian food items.

And to most people outside India, this vegetarian vs non-veg debate might seem foolish, but here it is proving to be the main election agenda now. A lot of people may think oh he's advocating for being vegetarian, that's great. But unfortunately not in this case coz his party which is filled with upper caste Hindus mostly use this argument of food choices to demonize minority communities in the country, they deny protein to poor children in the meals provided to them by the state in public schools, their supporters go and harass & have in many cases k-worded innocent people in name of 'Cow protection', force butchers who come from low income backgrounds to shut down their stores making them unable to earn even the meagre ammount that they do etc etc. So veg/non-veg in the case of Indian elections rn is so much more than just a debate on dietary choices.

So, no talks of education, health, economy, jobs etc this election season but rather cheap and completely nonsense topics during campaigning. And I wish I could call it satire, but unfortunately this is what the so-called largest democracy has come to.

This issue is just the tip of the iceberg of all the things that need to be changed in this country to take it back to where it was before this train wreck that the past decade has been and to start rebuilding it brick by brick.

The reason I'm posting this today is that, I want to request anyone who's eligible to vote in India to PLEASE GO VOTE! exercise ur right. Don't let anyone tell you that your voice doesn't matter coz it does. And it's never been more essential for you to make use of Article 326 and cast your vote. It is ur fundamental right.

I don't think there could be a more appropriate time to ask you for this, as it is the 133rd birth anniversary of Dr. Ambedkar today, the father of the Constitution. The man who fought all his life to make sure everyone in his country had democratic fundamental rights. He gave you that Constitution that protects you and your interests and rights. The tip of his pen changed the world you live in today for the better. So please don't let that the sacrifices made by him or of all those in the Constituent Assembly, of all those who came before you go to waste. They gave this country their all, so you could have all the freedoms that you do today. They gave you a constitution based on liberty, equality, fraternity, secularism, socio-economic democracy etc to protect you, the citizens. And now, as these rights slowly get encroached upon, it is more important than ever before for you to assert these rights.

Go read the election manifestos of the parties and learn about the candidates fighting elections from ur constituency. Please make an informed choice. Don't go and vote for people on the basis of religion, caste, etc. Go and vote for that person who actually talks about the on ground issues you face, who has plans to make ur life, and the society you live in better. Who promises to give you the basic rights that you deserve, someone who promises not to infringe upon the fundamental rights as enshrined in the constitution, the one who talks about creating better employment, creating a robust health system, making sure every child in this country has access to quality education, someone who wants to create a safe space for women not just out in the world but also in the private sphere, someone who promises to work towards dealing with the problems of inflation & other economic problems you face, someone who wants to work towards dealing with the vast enomic disparities that exist across the board. Someone who wants to work towards providing safeguards for the most vulnerable people and communities, etc etc.

Go on the website of the election commission, check out the dates of vote casting in your area, mark that date, wake up that morning take ur voter id card and please go push a button on the machine at the particular booth you fall under.

Don't let people tell you that you are young, you don't know what you need, you shouldn't be jumping into political discourse, don't let them discourage you from exercising the most important right the constitution has given you. TRUST ME, YOU DO KNOW WHAT YOU NEED, POLITICS AFFECTS YOU TOO, THE GOVERNMENT POLICIES AFFECT YOU TOO, SO YOUR VOICE IS JUST AS IMPORTANT IN THESE UPCOMING ELECTIONS AS THAT OF THE OTHERS!

YOUR VOTE MATTERS. IT'S NEVER MATTERED MORE!

#psa

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uyuforu · 6 months

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Celebrity Age-Gap Relationships Astrology Observation 💞A common thing I’ve noticed in a lot of age gap relationships between people in my personal life is the male partner nearly always has Virgo/Scorpio/Libra in his inner planets. Sometimes a combo of two or even all three are present.

My theory as to why this happens goes pretty deep and likely deserves its own post so I’ll just try to summarise: I’ve always had a theory that men with these placements are subconsciously drawn to younger partners. However, most of the time, it is genuinely not in a predatory or nefarious type of way. My theory is that it has to do with a deeply subconscious need to nurture, provide, look out for, and protect their partners. So they may be drawn to younger women because they want to protect them in a “fatherly” type of way. Again: I believe that this is subconscious and many of them may not even realise that they are doing it. I don’t believe that a majority of them are doing it out of malice, I think it’s just part of who they are.

The number is how many years older they are than their girlfriend/fiancée/wife.

Eddie Murphy: Scorpio Moon. | 19 years.

Patrick Stewart: Scorpio Moon. | 39 years.

Richard Gere: Virgo Sun. Libra Mercury, Venus. | 33 years.

Leonardo DiCaprio: Scorpio Sun, Venus, Mars. Libra Moon, Mercury. | 22 years.

Ryan Reynolds: Scorpio Sun, Moon, Mars. Libra Mercury. | 11 years.

Jason Statham: Virgo Venus, Scorpio Mars | 20 years.

Steve Martin: Scorpio Moon. Virgo Mercury. | 22 years.

Sylvester Stallone: Libra Moon. Virgo Mars. | 23 years.

Jay-Z: Libra Moon. Scorpio Venus. | 12 years.

Matthew McConaughey: Scorpio Sun, Mercury. Virgo Moon. Libra Venus. | 13 years.

Humphrey Bogart: Libra Moon. | 25 years.

Adam Levine: Scorpio Moon. | 10 years.

Mel Gibson: Libra Moon. Scorpio Mars. | 35 years.

Jeff Goldblum: Libra Sun. Scorpio Mercury. | 30 years.

Michael Fassbender: Virgo Moon. | 12 years.

David Foster: Scorpio Sun. Libra Mercury. Virgo Mars. | 34 years.

Guy Ritchie: Virgo Sun. Libra Mercury, Venus. | 13 years.

Prince Albert II: Virgo Sun, Mercury. Scorpio Moon. | 20 years.

John Stamos: Virgo Moon, Mercury. Libra Mars. | 22 years.

Stephen Moyer: Libra Sun, Moon, Mercury. Virgo Venus. | 13 years.

*Capricorn & Cancer was also present at handful of times. But they were not as frequent as the other three signs, therefore I decided not to include them.

ALL OF THE ABOVE INFORMATION'S CREDIT GOES TO @corvoidea and I didnt reblog it because i prefer being anonymous.

I am quite an experienced astro girl too but NOT a professional and i read your post on his bpc,it co relates so much with his natal chart and its actually my first time ever seeing that and like you said his fs looks very young could also be that she's younger than him but more mature for her age or than him too,you said that people have this instinct to protect her and the above post also says the same thing about these men wanting to protect their partners so they usually go for younger women.your post was great by the way.

if you've read the info above you'll get the hint of what jks age gap would be with his fs.his natal 7th house ruler is in Virgo(ruled by Mercury which also means that the person prefers younger partners)+he has his moon's ruler in the 8th house too. he has a virgo stellium(sun,moon,nn) (it is also the sign that represents innocence so he'd like someone innocent looking or someone younger)IN 8th house(ruled by Scorpio)+his mars is in scorpio in 10th(ruled by saturn meaning responsible and protective).he has venus in Libra in 9th house(its also the house of foreign things,wisdom,religion, etc).cap risings also tend to marry older partners 50 percent of the time but i feel like his fs would be younger than him and a foreigner too because he has MANY indicators for the so and so stuff I've said above.the shortest age gap is 10 years....NOW IM NOT SAYIND HE'S A CREEPY P3DO OR SOMETHING SO DONT COME FOR ME BECAUSE MY MARTIAN DOMINANT ASS WOULD NOT MIND ROASTING THE F OUTTA YOU.

Tarot readers say his fs would be older than him bit his birth chart doesn't say so and that could also be because he's not ready to take the whole responsibility of his fs as he's a very busy guy who knows that he has a lot of growing to do.its even safe to say that he's never been in love with someone but only with the idea of love,relationships,etc but worry not guys his saturn return will awaken the true daddy in him and he'll be ready to take total responsibilities of a person and know what love is and what he actually needs in a relationship.

So maybe 2 years later tarot readers can also start saying that his fs is younger than him because his views about life would be evolved by then.

Now continuing with the age gap thing....its really trippy but his fs can be really young compared to him but an adult ofc because he wouldn't be sexualizing anyone so young as he knows what it feels like to go through it.

The conclusion for me is that his fs is a foreigner and younger than him(more young than people can imagine👀)

I'd love to read your opinions on this and please reply with a longer text because I've never written so much for any ask and if you do so my cramped fingers will be at ease.if youvdont mind i'd like to be the ✌️anon

Hello Anon!! Wow that was so long and I just woke up but I love seeing people that passionate, I’m the same about what I love (Gemini moon 8H you know 😂)… so!! I 100% agree with you. To be honest this is what I thought:

His spouse IS def younger than him. I don’t wanna make assumptions about the age gap because we can’t really be that precise until it really happens. But already seeing so many signs she will be younger is already a good sign. So I wanted to say she is younger than him but the theory could go two ways: 1. she could appear extremely young compared to her age because it happened to some people already! For ex, I noticed people with cancer placement have these kind of experiences in their life, and his Personal DC is in Cancer so it wouldn’t shock if she had this.

2. OR she could def be younger than him, like wow damn. Haha (I hope not the same as the people there because 39 yrs? JK?!)

To be honest I mostly focused on the BPC last time and I didn’t wanna put things around his Natal Chart or other persona chart because I’m currently preparing a whole analysis about his Future Spouse in his natal chart! I’m studying hard these days haha, but I’ll keep your theory in my notes too!

I’ll also look for it in his Juno PC lol!

Thank you a lot for your devotion!!

Have a nice day ❤️

- uyu

#uyuans

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bonearenaofmyskull · 4 months

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I got your perspective on the post, but wasn't Will described as a martyr? Didn't he kill both himself and Hannibal because he wanted the world to rid itself of two monsters? In his eyes, he had become a monster. Ultimately, he rejects life with Hannibal, also rejecting Hannibal's love and perhaps his own. The Bedelia scene is a bit confusing, and we will never know exactly what is happening. Maybe Will is not willing to be there; he has no appetite for violence and no motivation to eat her. Perhaps the idea Bryan mentioned about Will being out of his mind is because they survived, and now he can't live with that knowledge. He can't return to his old life, and Hannibal wouldn't allow it. Maybe he is there as a prisoner.

If you are describing Will martyrdom as a "but" in relation to what I said in my post, then no, I don't think you did get my perspective at all. XD My entire thesis is dependent on Will's martyrdom and the need to rid the world of their monstrosity.

I realize the Christian lens reading is going to be a monumentally difficult thing for people to wrap their heads around if they don't have Christian philosophy and theology in their formative educational background, but there's not much I can do about that except to say that you've got a determinedly secular focus to something that has a decidedly spiritual bent. Christianity--alongside many major world religions--is strongly attached to the paradoxical and thus to the dual: Christ is at once all God and all man, innocent of sin and burdened by sin, sacrificed and risen, vengeful and forgiving.

As for the rest of it, all the "perhaps" of S4 and on speculations are irrelevant in light of the statement I made to view "the finale as the definitive end of the show instead of a stepping stone to seasons we'll never get to know." From an interpretive lens, it's past time we start analyzing this literary work as a complete product with an ending, at least somewhat more than we traditionally have. If the author is dead, then he dies when he stops writing the work.

#bear answers #hannibal meta

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akiizayoi4869 · 2 years

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Why do you think so much of the ATLA fandom just violently hates Aang? It really confuses me how so many fans just seem to resent everything about him even to the point of making up reasons that don’t even exist to bash him and demonizing everything he does. I’ve never seen such an innocent and kind character get such a hateful reaction so it’s weird.

It's a lot of reasons honestly. One reason is because a lot of people in the fandom like Zutara, but since Bryke didn't want Zutara to happen and instead went for Kataang, that made a lot of fans angry. Another reason is because some things that Aang does in the show that should have gotten called out by the narrative never were. Also a lot of fans felt like he should have killed Ozai instead of taking his bending. But I think the main reason why a lot of the fandom just doesn't like him is because for most people he isn't relatable in the way that Zuko is. The show was made for a western audience, an audience who doesn't know what its like to lose your people to genocide, to have your entire culture stripped away just because another party thinks that their way is "better and civilized".

This may be controversial, but I also think race has a lot to do with it. I remember seeing a post on here a while back and the op was saying they noticed something very interesting when they spoke to poc about Aang and the air nomad genocide and when they spoke to white people about it. The poc seemed to sympathize with Aang a lot more because to a degree they know what that feels like, to have your culture ripped away from you and to have your people wiped out thanks to genocide. Because their ancestors were victims of it. When the op spoke to white people about it, however, they said that they could not connect with Aang at all because they don't know what that feels like, so to them he wasn't all that special. To them Zuko was much more relatable, so that's the character that they latched on to. Me personally I absolutely agree with this and think that there is truth to it. I'm African American, so in a way I can relate to what Aang went through. Thanks to racism and slavery in this country, many black people were killed for no reason, they were ripped from their homes(although this can also be blamed on black people too seeing as we sold our own people to the Europeans, who then took it to a whole other level) and were told that their culture was meaningless and that they would learn to live like white people. They were stripped of their names and given new ones, they were forced to speak a different language, practice a different religion that they had never heard of before. Now based on what little I know about my family history, at least on my dads side, we go all the way back to Kenya I think. But that's all I know. I don't know what tribe we come from, if we have any family there, or what my native tongue is. That's all gone now. So when I was rewatching the show last year and I got up to the part where Aang went into the avatar state upon finding Gyatso's body and from that being forced to realize that his people and culture were entirely wiped out by the fire nation? I felt that. I literally felt a chill go through me, and I actually cried a little bit.

The fandom I noticed also seems to give Aang shit because he would talk about what the monks taught him every now and then, and a lot of fans found it to be annoying after a while. But you know what? Aang had every right to do that. He was literally the only human being alive that represented what was once the air nomads. So him repeating his teachings whenever he got the chance to was his one way to hold on to his culture, to make sure that the air nomads would not be forgotten.

Wow this got pretty long, lol. But yeah, that's what I think as to why Aang gets a lot of hate in the fandom.

#atla #Aang #air nomad genocide #asks #Aki answers things #icegoddessrukia

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animehouse-moe · 1 year

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Heavenly Delusion Opening: Innocent Arrogance

Yes yes, I know. Late to the party. But I wasn't really feeling it before and I've been watching it a good bit over the last few days so I figured now or never since I've not got much else going on today. A wonderful opening, incredibly expressive and fluid and ridiculously dense, it centers around a few key aspects and themes. Religion, connection, branching and reaching out. There's a lot to get into with it so I guess I'll just get started.

As soon as the opening starts, the symbolism and story does too. Two birds circling above, one white, one black. It's easy to see the Yin and Yang association as they go around each other, but beneath it we get a character who puts their hand over their eyes to transition to the next scene. You might be able to say that it's saying something about death in that regard, but it's a rather large stretch considering the more apt symbolism that precedes it.

Next up is this incredibly well animated spider's web. While it does set the tone for the overall style of ethereal animation that seems to almost escape you, it also begins to chip away at that theme of connections. A literal spider's web of them, to be exact. Though of course, it doubles up to symbolize the danger of the story, how Kiruko and Maru are prey rather than predator of the world.

Following that up, we have this two step shot of background shifting to foreground. The background objects being pillars of a bridge that survived into the post era of the apocalypse, while the foreground is a cutout of a young boy sporting a similar uniform to the ones that the children wear at the institution. The former image of course making use of the pillars to compare them to Tori gates (based on their shapes), while the cutout is meant to link that religious symbol towards the institution. It's a very quick and aesthetically pleasing one-two punch that leaves viewers with a vague sense of something.

We transfer very smoothly over to a shot of overhead powerlines in the next scene, which flows very well in terms of repetition, as it has a similar appeal as the "tori gate" pillars. What we see with the power lines though is the connections made between them, what brings them into contact with one another. It's a rather fluffy and vague use of the symbolism to liken it to the overall theme, but with follow-up shots it works well in establishing the overall explicit story of the opening.

With the follow-up scenes to this cut, we get a grasp of what this opening is. The journey of Kiruko and Maru. The two are trekking across Japan in search of Heaven in this opening. Not exactly a revelation, but it serves to be a great way to tie together the vague and sometimes loose pieces within.

Also, I love the approach to line art within the opening, which you can really see in scenes like this. The characters don't have that hard outline, they're not well defined in the slightest. Incredibly fluid and open, it's a really unique and beautiful style that they make full use of through all sorts of pieces. Even take the pieces of paper fluttering in the wind, they're rather transparent and don't feel incredibly well defined.

After this, we get a breakdown that matches the timing of the song. There's not really much to say? It's almost sort of self-explanatory. An explosion of creativity at almost random, with a strong line on literal "misdirection". Maps and signs that twist and turn and become undecipherable. It's cool, though maybe a bit out of touch compared to other sequences, but gets the point across about how difficult and winding and confusing the path of the story is. All the foreshadowing and mishaps and challenges that occur, they're all summed up in one messy billboard.

What's really impressive is how much is going on. There's scenes and layouts you'll completely miss if you're not playing the opening back over and over again and slowing things down and pausing in the right spots. Ridiculous how densely animated and detailed this opening is.

Now, for the keen eyed anime-onlies I'll leave a single hint within this sequence: order of events. Have fun haha.

Now, one last blink and you'll miss it bit, this one. The text says "welcome to hell!", as the sun shines above and countless hands make a peace sign at the bottom. Interestingly enough, a dog or some other similar animal paw appears at the top of the screen. What's most interesting here is the sun, which I think viewers of episode 3 will associate with a certain scene.

So, following that we get the title card and some scenes of the pair wandering around on their journey. Very well animated, very well expressed. Lovely little bits that add to it. But, we get some nice foreshadowing. Some yet to come, others that have appeared. Obviously, I'll only talk about the latter. First though, this frame of Maru kicking a can. The direction does wonders in these literal scenes to stay true to Hirotaka's vision of a more voyeuristic and outside-looking-in style.

Anyways, onto the first foreshadowing/symbolism: Maru's ability. It's a very strong sequence that speaks to a lot about what anime viewers suspect and understand about Hiruko. His ability starts as a flower that blossoms into a technological branch that reaches out, before transforming into an actual one. The best I can describe it is almost something like "human intervention". Something natural is intervened with, changed, altered by humanity, before returning to a natural state.

Following that we've got this breathtaking sequence for Kiruko. I was stunned when I first saw it in episode 2, knowing where the anime was headed for the third episode. Incredible work to show the separation between mind and body as Kiruko's outline lags behind their actual body. And then there's the whole out of focus piece that blurs the lines between Kiruko's outline and their actual body to even further the symbolism. Really, really incredible work for such an important detail in the opening that ties in with the early foreshadowing of the reveal.

And that's about where the opening ends. It's very intense, and has an incredibly strong vision that brings it all together. The opening is a story of Kiruko and Maru, but runs deeper and wider than just their journey to Heaven. It's stippled by references to religion and restriction, expression and evolution, and confusion and misdirection. It branches out and changes shape and form to find the perfect ways to tell its stories, to show viewers what lies ahead and what's to come, dropping subtle and not-so-subtle hints and bits of foreshadowing.

Just all around incredible work that essentially puts it neck and neck with MAD's OP for this season. I can, and have, picked a favorite between them just because of expectations placed upon both, but from an objective viewpoint there's no way you can call either "better" than the other. It's just incredible work that sets the bar painfully high for the rest of the year. Endlessly impressive that between this and MAD we're looking at not only the OPs of the season, but damn near shoe-ins for the year at large. Beautiful, beautiful work done on them.

#heavenly delusion #tengoku daimakyou #天国大魔境 #production i.g #mori hirotaka #weilin zhang #kiruko #maru #anime recommendation #anime review #anime and manga #anime #horror anime

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shirzan140102 · 8 months

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Mahsa Amini: One Year Later

I don't know if this post will have any value. Since I wasn't on here in a long time, I don't know if other users have already posted about this matter. Even if I'm the first person to write about these matters, I expect that I'll hardly get any interaction with this post as usual... which fucking sucks when the goal raising as much awareness as possible and finding more supporters. But I'll still say what I have to say, because it's important. As a heads-up, this post is on the longer side, but please read it in its entirety and reblog it so that as many people as possible can read it. I promise that it's worth it.

This past year has been marked by protests - which contrary to what you might have been led to believe, never actually ended - thousands of protesters being arrested, hundreds of innocent people randomly being killed, countless protesters losing an eye after being shot at by regime forces, a record high number of executions, stronger repression (especially of ethnic and religious minorities), schoolgirls being poisoned simply for wanting an education, several... interesting... scandals of Islamic Republic officials, desperate efforts by Iranian diaspora and opposition leaders to get the help of Western governments and organizations, and meaningless, hollow gestures and statements from these governments and organizations. But what's changed since last year when people first took to the streets? Everything and yet, nothing.

Even if the protests decreased in frequency, many people have engaged in acts of civil disobedience. The people of Iran have become much harder to contain for many reasons, and the Islamic Republic is scared. They may have the resources for violent suppression, but they know they're losing when it comes to numbers and determination. On top of that, more and more cracks are starting to appear and grow in their seemingly strong and impenetrable system. Every move they make is destined to be met with backlash and to backfire on them somehow. By all accounts, the conditions are there for this to be the beginning of its end. So, then, what's preventing the people of Iran from delivering the final blow?

Well, there are two main obstacles on the path to victory:

The people of Iran aren't armed. Without weapons, it's impossible to push through. If lower ranks in the military can somehow be won over, of course, then that'll give a much-needed boost.

Western governments, organizations, and media.

I'll spend most of the remainder of this post elaborating on point 2.

Now, allow me to preface this by saying that I'm a Democrat/liberal. My views align with the Democratic Party's platform, and, at times, I even think it's not strong enough to address certain issues. I also want to make it clear that although I'm referring to the regime in Iran by its name (i.e., the Islamic Republic), it's solely with the purpose of distinguishing it from the people of Iran; my intent is not to disrespect or even criticize Islam (or any other religion for that matter). (In fact, like many, I believe that the Islamic Republic is an affront to Islam.) In short, this post is not being written in bad faith or with the intent to cause trouble. I just want everyone to understand where I'm coming from and my mentality in trying to expose some things.

Also, while I haven't had the chance to provide links to sources because it'd take too much time to find all of them once again, I strongly encourage you all to Google the contents of this post on your own to verify my claims.

Contradictory Actions and Complacency

Ever since the beginning of the revolution last year, the behaviors of the Western governments and organizations have been very contradictory. While they claim to be horrified at the atrocities taking place in Iran, they have hardly changed their approach to dealing with the Islamic Republic and have even, at times, taken steps that actually benefit them. These actions make no sense.

Take the strange politics of the UN, for example. Last December, in an unprecedented move, the Islamic Republic was expelled from the UN Commission on the Status of Women as an alleged show of solidarity with the revolution, but now, it's been announced that a representative of the Islamic Republic will chair the 2023 United Nations Human Rights Council (UNHRC) Social Forum this coming November. Let it sink in: 11 months after being punished for violating the rights of women, Iran will be taking on a prominent position in discussions about human rights. On top of that, they allowed the Islamic Republic to host an exhibition about the history of clothing in Iran (or something like that), which just gave them another platform to completely misrepresent everything going on. They had an opportunity to completely rewrite history (i.e., spread the falsehood that women in Iran have always worn the hijab or analogous clothing) and, in turn, minimize one aspect of the revolution.

In addition to all of this, the UN's so-called fact-finding mission on the human rights abuses in Iran has hardly been better than a joke. From asking regular people to send evidence of these abuses (even though they can be easily found on any social media network or news site) and having a very lax schedule for meetings (even though time is of the essence when many lives are at stake), it's clear that they do not take their mandate seriously. Now, in all fairness, I understand the need for concrete, valid evidence, especially when dealing with something as serious as crimes against humanity, but this approach just borders on nonchalance. This is just reinforced by their social media activity. Take this tweet from about 4 months ago as an example:

The wording of the tweet (ALLEGED?!?! human rights violations) and simply saying they're "deeply alarmed" do not indicate genuine concern or sympathy. It does not show any willingness to work faster to bring the regime to justice for its many crimes as soon as possible and, thus, give the people of Iran some long overdue justice. It's hard to think of this "fact-finding mission" as anything more than just a superficial formality. Its clear that they are content to let the Islamic Republic continue its reign of terror with impunity.

The actions of the US, the UK, the EU, and individual EU member countries similarly belie their supposed concerns and expressions of solidarity with the people of Iran. The most notable example of this is the failure of the UK and EU to add the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) to their respective terrorist lists (also known as proscribing it). It is odd that despite many alleged concerns about the dangers posed by the Islamic Republic, the parliament of the UK still hasn't moved to take the one very powerful course of action (i.e., proscribing the IRGC) that would help address this matter (and also help further weaken the Islamic Republic, thereby allowing the revolution to succeed). In fact, James Cleverly - the current Foreign Secretary of the UK - recently claimed [not-so-cleverly] that they haven't proscribed the IRGC, because it's not yet in the UK's interest. Let's just reflect on the absurdity of this statement: Cleverly's claiming that it ISN'T in the UK's interest to protect its own citizens from credible threats from the IR, although they acknowledge their existence. One has to wonder what interests would make the UK drag its feet on taking strong, decisive action despite these valid concerns (and despite it being the right thing to also do for the people of Iran). (I'll talk about the problem with the EU later in the post.)

Despite the acknowledgement that the Islamic Republic is a threat to its own people and other countries, the US, the UK, the EU, individual EU member countries, and Canada are happy to let the Islamic Republic act as it pleases in their countries. Regime agents notorious for horrific crimes against humanity are allowed to freely wander around in the US and Canada, and at times, they are even rewarded with positions of power that can continue to affect relations with Iran in ways that benefit the Islamic Republic. Oberlin College and Princeton University have hired two such criminals as professors, and despite strong backlash, they have done nothing to remedy this. (In fact, Oberlin claims that it conducted an internal investigation and concluded that there was no such issue. Yes, really...) Several institutions in the US and the UK (including THE Cambridge University) were exposed to be collaborating with institutions in the Islamic Republic. (The case of Cambridge University is the most egregious, since it has helped with the drones that Russia has used to attack Ukraine.) Many people have called attention to the fact that so-called Islamic Centers built by the Islamic Republic throughout Canada and Europe are actually places for espionage and radicalization, not for practicing religion and building religious community, and yet, to the best of my knowledge, only a few have been closed by now. (It was recently exposed that similar institutions have also been built in 4 US states, and I don't believe this matter has been properly addressed yet.)

Regime officials are essentially given warm welcomes to these countries. Recently, the same Princeton professor whom I briefly discussed above was given an opportunity to speak at USSTRATCOM. President Raisi is due to speak at the UN this coming Tuesday. Besides all this, the children and relatives of people affiliated with the regime live the most luxurious lives at the expense of the people of Iran. Rather than respecting the teachings of Islam and showing the same modesty that their relatives preach at home, life is one never-ending party for them here in the West. Mahsa Amini was brutalized to the point of death because of her allegedly improper hijab, but the daughters of these people proudly show on social media that they are wearing the most revealing clothes and drinking the best alcohol money can buy. (The regime's problems with financial corruption are best saved for another post.)

Another side of the problem is that many companies based in the West happily do business with or somehow involve people with ties to the regime in their ventures. Recently, it was revealed that the German company Bosch supplied the Islamic Republic with spy technology that's been used to target protesters. It has also been revealed that a major reason why the voices of protesters are often suppressed on social media is that people affiliated with the regime have ties to the groups or companies dealing with their content moderation/enforcement; with the ability to control who can post and how much, they can easily bury the voices of revolutionaries. And yet, none of these companies have taken responsibility for this, nor have western governments done anyhing to hold these companies accountable.

And now, let's talk about the most recent development between the US and the Islamic Republic and why it's nothing to celebrate, contrary to what many Democratic/liberal influencers would want you to believe. It was recently announced that the US would release $6 billion in frozen assets to the Islamic Republic in a prisoner exchange in which both governments would free 5 prisoners. Qatar would be responsible for overseeing the disbursement and use of the freed-up money to ensure that it's only used for humanitarian purposes. The problem is, however, that besides being a totally nonreciprocal deal (they get money and 5 people while the US only gets 5 people):

Qatar, in addition to having its own problems with human rights abuses, has been shown to be in the league wit. the Islamic Republic. For instance, at the behest of the Islamic Republic, they barred protesters from wearing or bringing anything related to the revolution in the stadium at last year's FIFA World Cup. Now, I can already anticipate some responses to the effect that they were just trying to keep the match apolitical, but that's simply not the case, as evidenced by the fact that people were allowed to protest for Palestine without any problem. (This isn't a dig at Palestine, btw; I'm simply pointing out the double standard.) With Qatar doing the Islamic Republic's bidding, who's to say that they will honestly report why any money has been released and make sure that it has been used for the declared reasons?

Money is fungible. Assuming that the $6 billion that's been freed up will be used for humanitarian purposes, the Islamic Republic has an additional $6 billion at its disposal that can be used for anything, including getting extra equipment for suppressing protests... or providing Russia with more supplies with which to terrorize Ukraine.

The prisoners being released allegedly aren't actually prisoners, but rather agents of the Islamic Republic who are based in America. (Read this article about the family of Siamak Namazi, one of the prisoners who's due to return home.) The fact is that the Islamic Republic has dominated the Iranian/Iranian-American lobby here in the US, most notably through the National Iranian American Council (NIAC). Any activism from these groups or people affiliated with them often ends up repeating regime talking points and pushing for policies that will benefit the regime. (While it's beyond the scope of this post, just know that NIAC, the Quincy Institute, and J Street should all be avoided. Anyone affiliated with any of these groups or repeating their talking points is bad news.)

Not all US nationals have been freed, and the Biden administration is lying about it. By law, all US nationals (both citizens and permanent residents) should receive the US government's protection in hostage/prisoner exchange situations. One of the prisoners left behind is Jamshid "Jimmy" Sharmahd, who has unfairly been sentenced to death and can be executed at any moment. (More on this later.)

Many Iranian-Americans have pointed out that this goes against the philosophy of not negotiating with terrorists. All this does is encourage further hostage diplomacy, which only benefits the Islamic Republic and allows it to stay in power. Several officials from the Islamic Republic are on camera promoting this as a business model of sorts. In fact, as luck would have it, before these "prisoners" have even been cleared to return to America, more prisoners with ties to the West have already been kidnapped.

While we'll only know in hindsight the reason for this deal, it's likely that this is part of an attempt to return to the JCPOA or to replace it with a similar agreement. Biden's secrecy and use of flimsy technicalities have made these acts a violation of INARA. (Yes, the Republicans are actually correct here.) Ultimately, this would continue to legitimize the Islamic Republic and help it remain in power, and it would be free to do as it pleases, which means that it can oppress the people of Iran even more brutally and continue to embed itself in other countries (see the Tanzania espionage incident). (There's some speculation that this is some sort of money laundering scheme with some financial benefits for Biden, and while I can't speak to that, one must also consider this possibility.)

In general, the Biden administration has been more lenient in enforcing sanctions, which has allowed the Islamic Republic to get away with things that normally should not slide under these policies. He's renewed sanction waivers. (Yes, the Republicans, sadly, are correct here, too.) One can only speculate at the desired outcomes for such dealings, but it will not be pretty for anyone anywhere in the world. (Yes, this will come to have worldwide consequences.)

Ultimately, from all of these instances, it's possible to glean the extent of the hypocrisy and betrayal on the part of these Western countries and groups. If anything, one can make the case that these governments want to keep the Islamic Republic in power, and the people of Iran are completely alone in this revolution.

New Friends from Unexpected Places

As I stated at the beginning of this post, I'm a lifelong Democrat. Their platform appealed to me for being progressive and for purportedly advocating for human rights. However, several events since the beginning of the Biden administration already made me wary of them (namely the disastrous withdrawal from Afghanistan) and alert to a more problematic side of them, and these dealings with Iran collectively became the breaking point for me. Now, I'm not saying that I'm going to become a Republican, but I no longer want to associate myself with them and support them. At this point, I'm a politically homeless liberal, and I currently believe that rather than going by party and platform and voting, I'm better off fighting for issues on an individual basis.

With all of that having been said, for once, I actually have to say that the Republicans have been on the right side of history. They're the ones actually trying to hold President Biden accountable for going about things the wrong way. I've even called several of their offices to bring up my concerns about his actions, and they were completely lovely and understanding. In addition to this, Republicans brought the MAHSA Act to the House floor. Again, this doesn't mean I'm a Republican, since I take issue with essentially the rest of their positions, but this whole case has renewed my faith in bipartisanship. I believe in complete fairness, and that means whoever resorts to underhanded methods to achieve their goals, even if we have the same beliefs, should be held accountable, just like that means anyone who does the right things needs to have their good deeds acknowledged, even if we are normally at odds with one another.

Suffice it to say, this whole ideal has left me disillusioned with the Democratic party, and I now have no place in the American political system - at least for the foreseeable future. Many other Iranian-Americans who lean left seem to share in this sentiment.

A Mini-Burn Book

There are many people who deserve to be called out, and I could honestly write a novel detailing everything they've done wrong, but I'll format my grievances with them as a brief list for brevity. In addition to the individuals and groups I've named throughout this post and the Islamic Republic, the following individuals need to be especially called out:

President Carter - For his role in helping the Islamic Republic come to power and in so doing doomed not only the people of Iran but also the people of America and arguably even the whole world. (Yes, really. While it's really complex, there's quite a bit of evidence out there supporting this. And I'll be happy to elaborate on my claim that his failures as a president have effectively doomed the entire world.)

President Obama - For originating the JCPOA and, by his own admission, not standing by the Green movement in 2009 to help the people of Iran get their freedom back then.

Robert Malley - The allegedly former Special Envoy to Iran. He clearly has ties to the Islamic Republic, and his son allegedly has ties to NIAC. When it was announced that he had been suspended from his position for accessing sensitive information despite having his security clearance revoked, the Tehran Times, a state-run paper in Iran, had suspiciously way too much information about the circumstances surrounding his ouster from his position. They also had access to documents that allegedly pertained to this problem. (These documents have yet to be authenticated, but they're suspiciously convincing.) Despite this controversy, he has managed to gain employment at Princeton University and some engagements at Yale University.

Princeton University - Not only for its questionable hiring decisions, but also for allowing two of its graduate students to be kidnapped by the Islamic Republic and showing no concern for them beyond a few empty statements that were clearly written begrudingly. (They also have yet to address everyone's complaints about these problematic employees.)

Josep Borrell - High Representative of the European Union for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy. He's clearly in the Islamic Republic's pocket. He has sabotaged attempts to proscribe the IRGC with some bullshit technicalities. It's on record that before some major events, such as the votes to proscribe the IRGC, he was on the phone with the Foreign Minister of the Islamic Republic to provide some reassurance. He's also an example of someone who mischaracterizes the revolution and deliberately wants to help the Islamic Republic stay in power. In a tweet from a few days ago about the one-year anniversary of Mahsa Amini's death, he talked about making Iran change its behavior... Take note: The people of Iran are openly calling for revolution, not reform, and the Islamic Republic has proven time and time again that it has no intention of changing its behavior. However, Borrell's put it in these terms, completely disregarding what we Iranians want and effectively insulting all the death and trauma that people have suffered in the fight for their freedom and dignity.

Antony Blinken, John Kirby, Matthew Miller, Vedant Patel - For their lies and equivocations. While I can't exactly remember who said what, they all have shown the same dishonesty and nonchalance towards the people of America and the people of Iran. Between the four of them, they have denied knowing about Jamshid Sharmahd and another US national excluded from the upcoming prisoner exchange, dismissed Jamshid Sharmahd as Germany's concern (due to his also having German citizenship) and not America's (though as a legal resident, he is indeed also America's concern), justified the deal as being the only way to get what Biden wants, and when pressed about the prospect of the Islamic Republic using the released money for something other than humanitarian purposes - President Raisi openly claimed in his recent interview with Lester Holt that they are free to do whatever they want with the money. - flippantly saying they don't want to speculate.

Senator Chris Murphy of Connecticut - For disrespectfully attacking Iranian-Americans who simply were sharing their concerns. He's thrown temper tantrums on Twitter when talking about this prisoner exchange that are completely unbefitting of his position, accused us of being "Iran hawks," and claimed that any criticisms about the deal are unfair, bad faith attacks against President Biden. (No, sir, we just want what's best for both of our countries.) It's been said that he's secretly met with NIAC and thus may be under the regime's influence, which is completely credible, considering his demeanor.

Everyone from NIAC and other IR-affiliated lobbying groups, but especially Barbara Slavin - In addition to whitewashing the regime's crimes, a video from a meeting earlier this year emerged with Slavin proposing a course of action that is very, very close to the final prisoner exchange deal we're seeing now. Years ago, she had the gall to callously flip off people protesting an event featuring a regime official. Overally, Slavin seems to be oddly enamored of the Islamic Republic.

The New York Times - For disregarding people's concerns that some of their Iranian writers (i.e., Negar Mortazavi and Farnaz Fassihi) are affiliated with the Islamic Republic. Previously, they dismissed people's concerns about these individuals' employment as racist, bad faith attacks against these writers. Last year, they falsely reported that the "morality police" in Iran had been disbanded and to this day haven't retracted or apologized for this, despite pressure from Iranian-Americans.

NPR - For having a presenter/host (Mary Louise Kelly) who's also clearly a regime puppet and allowing her to bring other NIAC/NIAC-adjacent people (including Robert Malley) on her show. Several months ago, after the protests had already started, she randomly shared a picture of peanut butter she found in a store in Tehran on her social media in a clear stunt to distract from what's really going on. With this stupid, childish post, she pretty much said, "Yes, people are dying in the streets fighting for freedom and being raped and tortured in prison, but hey, look, peanut butter!"

Various social media companies (including Tumblr) - For not listening to us when we talk about how are voices are being suppressed and allowing it to continue to happen and for not giving us the attention we deserve. (@staff, Iran deserves to be on the "Things We Care About" page!)

Celebrities and show-off activists - For only making posts or stories to claim that they care and act like they're good people and then quickly moving on with their lives. I get that compassion fatigue is a thing and that you can't go too deep into everything, but the speed with which they forgot is most likely due to them only putting up appearances. I'm sorry, but there's no way most celebrities don't know a single person of Iranian descent when they live in a place with a large Iranian-American population (i.e., Los Angeles) and, in turn, haven't heard some additional things about what's going on in Iran from these acquaintances (or maybe even friends).

There are probably plenty of people whom I've forgotten, but these are the worst offenders at the moment, imo. In particular, there's a congressman whose name I've forgotten who had the gall to dismiss Iranian-American activists because they're "being too emotional." (Yes, in the year 2023, a man actually dared say this to someone affiliated with a movement that started with women.)

The Role of the Media

The media has also played a huge role in suppressing news of what's going on in Iran. For instance, tonight's episode of NBC Nightly News did not mention that today was the one-year anniversary of Mahsa Amini's death. Media attention waned after the first few weeks of protests, and it's very, very rare to see any mention of Iran on tv nowadays. I understand that there are still plenty of online articles and think pieces, but discussing these major issues on televised news or in primetime tv programs is a very effective way of raising awareness. And we're being deprived of that.

When someone is brought to comment on something related to Iran, it's highly likely that they are affiliated with the regime (i.e., have ties to NIAC), and it's very rare to see legitimate opposition leaders have an opportunity to set the record straight. Even in these cases, there's no guarantee that their story will be given the attention it deserves. Going back to the horrible prisoner exchange deal, Ghazale "Gazelle" Sharmahd, Jamshid Sharmahd's daughter, has been doing everything she can to bring attention to her father's situation and save his life. She recently shared that at a sit in with the families of other "prisoners," she managed to finally get interviewed by MSNBC of all networks, but her story never made it to the final cut. Only the material with the families of "rescued" prisoners (i.e., people who probably have ties to the Islamic Republic) were broadcast.

Now, I'm not saying that we live in a country where our news is 100% controlled by the government. We fortunately have nowhere near the amount of issues they do in Iran, Russia, or North Korea with state-sponsored media, propaganda, and information control. However, it is very suspicious that only certain voices are being promoted over others and that certain things are overlooked or misrepresented. There's no way that media outlets haven't gotten tips from Iranian-Americans; people have been so active and vocal that they've certainly heard our concerns. One is left to conclude that there is something or someone controlling how certain narratives are told. (This also explains the prevalence of the fake-intellectual history about the 1953 "coup" and why hardly anyone believes that America, France, and the UK had a role in the 1979 revolution, although the evidence is there.) While I agree with a lot of criticisms against them, I still think it's very interesting that Project Veritas managed to get believable behind-the-scenes footage of an ABC employee complaining about how they knew about Prince Andrew's relationship with Jeffrey Epstein years before the story broke but they were prevented from exposing it by the royal family. If this footage is legit, it definitely hints at a shockingly insidious trend of governmental/elite control of the information we receive from the media. I do think we mostly have a free press here - Or, at least, I'd still like to believe that this is the case. - and I don't buy into the Republican narrative about the mainstream media, but there are suspicious signs of interference with the news and facts that are provided to the general public.

Dear Reader

If you've managed to make it this far in this post, thank you for sticking with me. I promise that we've reached the end, but I have a few things that I'd like to leave with you... and a few requests. As I've hopefully made clear throughout this post, the people of Iran are up against insurmountable obstacles due to Western powers ostensibly wanting to keep the Islamic Republic in power. They say all the right things to play the role of the leaders of the free world, but then they take actions that are a slap in the face to all of us fighting for a free Iran. If they keep getting in the way like this, we'll be doomed to live under the shadow of the Islamic Republic forever. In fact, even we diaspora aren't completely safe.

And this is where you, dear reader, come in. When it's just our voices as the minority, it's easy for people in positions of power or with larger platforms to ignore us. However, when people from other groups show up with us, then it'll be harder to disregard what we have to say. And the cool thing is that, in this case, even if you aren't Iranian, this still does concern you too. The Islamic Republic is becoming a worldwide threat, and gradually nobody anywhere will be safe from their clutches. For instance, do you think they won't get around to attacking Israel or the US? I'm not trying to manipulate anyone or exaggerating when I'm saying they're after worldwide domination; it's a fact. They don't care that they're destroying their own people and their own land and that they've tainted the name of Islam. Nothing is sacred to these people except power and their own interests. And there will be a time where you, too, can become their victim. Do NOT let that happen.

This is why I'm assigning non-Iranian people the following action items:

If you live in America, contact your senator and ask them to vote in favor of the MAHSA Act.

If you live in the UK or EU, push your parliament to proscribe the IRGC.

If you live in America, call out President Biden for his actions (most especially the prisoner exchange). This is especially important if you're a Democrat, since any underhanded claims that you're acting in bad faith will have no merit.

Boycott any companies that still do business with the Islamic Republic, and push the governments where their bases of operations are located to punish them.

Hold the media accountable for their selective, biased reporting on matters in Iran. Tell them that you're interested in hearing about Iran and ask them why they haven't discussed it in televised programs much. If it's just Iranian people asking, then they can dismiss it as the interest of a niche group and claim it's of no value to their program, but if a wider demographic argues that there's a need for it, that would arguably put more pressure on them. Also, bring to their attention that certain individuals are NIAC members (or NIAC-adjacent) and that they shouldn't be given a platform. If they do get involved with someone from NIAC (or a NIAC-adjacent group), hold their feet to their fire; make them cut ties with them and issue a retraction and apology.

If you're on stan Twitter or Instagram, nag your fave to post about Iran, especially if they've acknowledged or interacted with you before.

Pressure social media companies to look into the suppression of Iranian voices, especially if you're employed at one of these companies.

Find a way to bring Iran into any discussion as long as it's relevant. If issues such as LGBTQ+ rights or environmental justice are being discussed, for instance, talk about how these matters are under attack in Iran.

Also, if there's any debate about whether someone is affiliated with the Islamic Republic and associated organizations, please follow the lead of Iranians and Iranian-Americans. Take care to not make assumptions on your own, and just help us expose whoever we've identified.

I know this post has been very long, but this is an extremely important issue. Please stand with the people of Iran. We can't do this alone. We can't stand anymore tragedy and destruction, and we want to rebuild and thrive. Amplify our voices and be our friends in our time of need.

Thank you!

#freedom for iran #free iran #mahsa amini #woman life freedom #iran revolution #iran revolution 2023 #current events #social justice #human rights #mahsa day

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