the green carpet scratches at your pink heels. bile rises in your throat.
they talk about womanhood- but it’s not quite right. there is the pink and compliments and talk of boys
i am a beloved daughter
but there is also something else. it digs at your flesh, it feasts on your skin. your mother motions at your chest, bigger than hers and you're not even done growing yet! how lucky.
of heavenly parents
you pray to a man every night, finish it in another’s name. on your knees. you were sent a shady link as a kid. the woman on her knees, tears streaming out of her eyes, i don't want this, she said
with a divine nature and eternal destiny
blood on the inside of your underwear. you were told this meant you were a woman now. you were ten years old. what the fuck did you know about being a woman? your mom said you weren’t allowed to touch between your legs, but it's normal to want to. you didn't know what that meant, either.
as a disciple of jesus christ,
you wanted to be desired. you daydreamed of being the trophy for boys around you, of claiming that role one day as a wife. you came from a long line of women married young. you don’t know their names, but you were taught about their husbands in church.
i strive to become like him.
pressing your breasts down as much as possible, trying to give the illusion of a flat chest. badly cropped jpgs of jesus photoshopped to have top surgery scars are the secret currency you pay to get past the hours of church. you hold them like diamonds.
i seek and act upon personal revelation
you thought god was talking to you. you almost threw away everything you owned. you thought you were a prophet. total fuckin’ ego death! holy shit! god speaks through me!
and minister to others in his holy name
and then the next morning. when your faith crashed, when moroni abandoned you, did it feel unreal to you too, joseph?
i will stand as a witness of god
oh god, no. please. i don’t know what’s real anymore.
at all times
leg hair peeking from under your pretty sunday dress. they all stare. you ignore them and open up to D&C 132.
and in all things
emma, did you love him to the end? i don’t think you wanted him. did you watch as he married a 14 year old? did you tell him you burned the commandment? did you cry when he died for the church that he loved more than he loved you?
and in all places.
blood on the floor of carthage jail. this martyr will be remembered forever. do they talk about you, emma? or are you just joseph’s wife?
as i strive to qualify for exaltation,
when i marry, my husband will be a god, and i shall cleave onto him. when i marry, i will go to his universe and bear more of his children.
i cherish the gift of repentance
heads bowed low as the sacrament is passed. my hands clutch onto the bottom of my skirt. pleasure outside celestial marriage is forbidden. i apologize for loving the wrong way.
and seek to improve each day
i tried to kill myself, last time i got home from girl’s camp. i got home and cried and found the pills and shoved them into my mouth until i cried more and more until i was gagging. i hunched over the toilet. my hands on the grimy floor.
with faith, i will
forced to sing in front of the congregation. my head spun from anxiety. my stomach turned with nausea.
strengthen my home and family,
loving wife beautiful kids loyal husband church once a week work weekdays weekend mom monthly round on the business end of his cock forever and the vomit threatens to make an appearance.
make and keep sacred covenants,
an old man is in a room alone with me. he asks me if i masturbate.
and receive the ordinances and blessings
i tell the man no. i receive a card so i can be ordained.
of the holy temple.
that's just how it goes, isn't it?
all around are paintings of god and jesus. we learned about heavenly mother. why don’t i see her in paintings? did god have plural marriages? did heavenly mother make us? why don’t we pray to her? did she watch god marry a 14 year old? did she cover her eyes? when she saw blood on her underwear, was she told she was a woman? did she touch between her legs? did she ever believe herself better than god? does she cry when she cant talk to us? why do i cry? was heavenly mother scared of singing in public and did she press her chest flat and did she cry when god forced himself into her mouth? did she burn his doctrine too?
i am given flowers on mother’s day. i will be one eventually, after all. and i vomit in the church bathroom quietly like the perfect woman i am supposed to be.
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good morning! say it back!!! i am going to hv a wonderful Wednesday if it KILLS ME N SO R U!!! WATERGUN EMOJI!!!
fun fact: i keep getting this random idea for an oc vampire spawn of cazador’s named sisyphus lol i would probably never use her, but the idea persists….. like sisyphus
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UNCLE NINA WRITES WEIRD JK STAN LETTERS!
hello benevolent angel people!
( because you're wonderful but bc you're doing gods work by supporting my dead fanfic from hell. c:’ )
so this is a lil...experimental? but bc i've been dabbling on that one ask large lore ask that set before kyle knows raven of crimson dawn is his stan, i've gotten very attached to writing the silly jersey letters to dead stan in his journal again. ( again, nina lore is that it's what a friend had me do when my first cat passed away.
i still write to her. <3 )
but this is just something i wrote to get back into the habit of writing again. i put it on docs and i used a font which...okay? tbh, i think looks exactly like i want jk's handwriting to look. like its very swirly, he is my calligraphy king. i didn't proof it bc i just wrote...all of it tonight like a weird crazy person.
also i realize jk sounds...a lot like me
— but he Is me, tbh?
like in some facets i did give him lil pieces of myself so he could grow into an uber tall thicc as hell academic hot jersey talk shit get hit boy.
( i also do think he's a lot goofier with stan in his little letters esp since he doesn't think that anyone is going to read them they are just his lil vent space. let it out king! )
as for the timeline...i think it's pre!rm bonus content? like i dropped a little context about stuff that happened before the fic, but i think it's probably written anywhere in the last 1-2 years of rm before kyle went to that crimson dawn concert. i'm not sure what compelled me to write it i just...really like vulnerable jersey just being a jersey dirtbag but like kneeling by the stan shrine and asking for light.
speaking of...as far as triggers go. mostly the spelling is just bad, help, but jersey does talk a lot about stan dying and is very...distressed about it. he's also...really depressed and is not at the moment coping super well, but is reaching out for help. <3 always reach out for help when you need it. i didn't mention anything specific, but he does just mention thinking he's not a good person, feeling ugly, unworthy, lost, etc...TW FOR HIM BEING SO VULNERABLE AND CUTE ALSO.
he is...my secret loverboy prince.
he is my lo-...
my L-
anyways...ROLL CLIP!
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