corruption of youth

we are young, we play our music loud,drink until we can’t stand, we sneak out, get grounded, fail tests, run wild, we make friendships that only last a month, lie about where we are, cry in the bathroom, try new things, sleep for hours, binge eat, go through lovers like we go through our expensive clothes. we are young,we are the corrupted youth.
we are the hated generation,but they forget who raised us.
—  diaryofasocialintrovert
I Don't Have a Gay Son.

A few months ago, my oldest son, Charlie, came out to me as a homosexual.

He sat his mother and I down in the living room and confessed everything to us; about how he had always felt attraction towards men, for his entire life. He even told us that he had a boyfriend who he wanted to introduce us to. Justine and I had always had our suspicions about Charlie, but we were still shocked by our son’s revelation.

Suffice to say, Charlie is no longer a son of mine.

You see, every now and again, teenagers in our town get unnatural urges. We try to correct these impure desires early- teach kids right from wrong. If you don’t nip these thoughts in the bud while they’re still young, they’ll manifest as behaviour in adolescence. We pull offending children up and tell them, again and again, from morning worship to Sunday school.

“Your ungodly impulses are a choice” we lecture. “You can choose Heaven or you can choose Hell. Which will it be?” For many youth, the threat of damnation is enough to set them on the right path. But there are those who cling to their perversions, convincing themselves that their lifestyle choice is the correct one.

If only we had beat it out of them. Maybe that could have saved Charlie.

I’ll never understand what compels teens to commit such awful sin. Some say that it’s the media, corrupting the minds of the youth. Others think that it’s just the primal evil of humanity, inevitably seeping through. All I know for sure is that these teenagers go about defiling the Lord, and our town, remorselessly.

There are probably those out there who would call us intolerant. That’s fine by us. We believe that there are some transgressions that simply shouldn’t be tolerated, under any circumstances.

And we will never tolerate abduction, torture and murder.

No, I don’t have a gay son. I don’t have a gay son, because those twisted f*cking bastards killed him.

Creepypasta #1234: I Don't Have A Gay Son

Length: Short

A few months ago, my oldest son, Charlie, came out to me as a homosexual.

He sat his mother and I down in the living room and confessed everything to us; about how he had always felt attraction towards men, for his entire life. He even told us that he had a boyfriend who he wanted to introduce us to. Justine and I had always had our suspicions about Charlie, but we were still shocked by our son’s revelation.

Suffice to say, Charlie is no longer a son of mine.

You see, every now and again, teenagers in our town get unnatural urges. We try to correct these impure desires early- teach kids right from wrong. If you don’t nip these thoughts in the bud while they’re still young, they’ll manifest as behaviour in adolescence. We pull offending children up and tell them, again and again, from morning worship to Sunday school.

“Your ungodly impulses are a choice,” we lecture. “You can choose Heaven or you can choose Hell. Which will it be?” 

For many youth, the threat of damnation is enough to set them on the right path. But there are those who cling to their perversions, convincing themselves that their lifestyle choice is the correct one.

If only we had beat it out of them. Maybe that could have saved Charlie.

I’ll never understand what compels teens to commit such awful sin. Some say that it’s the media, corrupting the minds of the youth. Others think that it’s just the primal evil of humanity, inevitably seeping through. All I know for sure is that these teenagers go about defiling the Lord, and our town, remorselessly.

There are probably those out there who would call us intolerant. That’s fine by us. We believe that there are some transgressions that simply shouldn’t be tolerated, under any circumstances.

And we will never tolerate abduction, torture and murder.

No, I don’t have a gay son. I don’t have a gay son, because those twisted fucking bastards killed him.

Credits to: GuyAwks (story)

anonymous asked:

Percy trying to start a relationship with his new little sister-in-law, Velora, but all she really wants is to hear more stories about Vex'ahlia.

ooooh yes i love this

futurefic/established relationship, obvs.  conclave is dead, percy and vex had a quickie wedding and now they’re going to syngorn to get vex’s inheritance shit worked out or somethin idk.  if velora seems older it’s because she is.

Percy stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching the girl play with her owlbear doll.  Vex had left to go get revenge on someone-or-other with one of his explosives, and they had both decided it would be best if he had a clear alibi.  Luckily, Percy had something he wanted to do anyway.

Velora was clearly important to Vex.  Siblings were important to Vex.  And Vex had met his sister, so Percy felt he should get to know hers.  

Children, however, had never been his strong suit.  They didn’t like him, and he generally didn’t like them.  Oh, well.  He cleared his throat and knocked on the doorframe to announce his presence.

Velora looked up from her owlbear.  “I already knew you were there.  You’re not very sneaky.”

“I am when I want to be,” said Percy, affronted, and then took a deep breath.  She was a child.  Right.  He took a few awkward steps into the room and sat down on a chair.  “Do you know who I am?”

“Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Kowol–Klossowski De Rolo III,” recited Velora in a prim accent that Percy thought might be mocking him.  Or perhaps her father.  He hoped the latter.  “Of Vex’ahlia.”

Percy smiled despite himself.  “Well, yes.  I see you’ve done your research.”

“Papa made me learn it when we heard you were married.”  She put her owlbear down.  When she turned to him, Percy could see the scraggly blue feather stuck behind her ear, nearly buried under her long dark hair, and had to repress another smile.  “Can you tell me about how Vex killed dragons, then?”

“I rather hoped to learn about you.”

Velora scowled.  “Well, I wanted to learn about Vex.”

Percy glared.  Velora glared back.

Deep breaths, Percival.  “Perhaps a deal can be arranged.  I shall tell you a story about Vex, and then you shall tell me something about yourself.”  Under his breath, he muttered, “brat.”

“I heard that.”

“…Unfortunate.”

“But it’s a deal.  And you have to teach me more bad words.”

Percy considered this.  “I suppose I haven’t added ‘corrupting youth’ to my list of bad deeds yet,” he said, and offered his hand.  “Shake on it?”

Velora considered and took it, shaking like she hadn’t done so before.

“Alright,” said Percy, “the first–the most important–bad word you need to know is fuck.”