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americachavez · 4 years ago

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did cas really tell dean to kneel before their new god? did that actually happen? i thought him beating the shit out of dean in that alley was the most unrestrainedly horny thing this show had ever done ACTUALLY you know what scratch that new question: top horny moments from the cw's supernatural (2005 - 2020)

getting this ask feels like my sins of the last week have been weighed against the Trials I Have Gone Through since the premier of supernatural on the wb in september of 2005 and I’m not sure if it is a punishment or reward

some notes before we begin:

the ep with dean’s male siren was like, conceptually horny but not actually that horny because the dude was uglie. I’m sorry to this man

all you sam girls out there. I respect you but I do not respect jared padalecki who is JUST tall and has zero sex appeal. but those eps where he’s like, drinking ruby’s blood and then eating her pussy are. you know. I’ll give you that

I am ONLY UP TO SEASON 10 so fair warning this is not comprehensive but the horniness does seem to drop off sharply after the mark of cain is no longer in play lol gotta love a good demon murder tattoo plot

this is easily the most insane thing I’ve ever done, including the destiel manifesto

S1 EP12: the scene where dean gets healed by the faith healer, on his knees with a hand in his hair and looking somewhere between religious ecstasy, brain death and an orgasm. starting this list off great

S1 EP22: azazel possessing john winchester. no I will not explain further if u know u know <3

S3 EP10: dean being taunted by a dream version of himself, this is where we first got the daddy’s blunt little instrument line. still burned in my hippocampus a good 13 years later thank yew

S4 EP1: dean crawling out of his own grave covered in grave dirt. hot. the HANDPRINT. HOT. also tangent but this reveal after the s3 finale was WILD back in 2008 I hollered in my dorm room after canvassing for obama. simpler times man

S4 EP 1: cas’ intro scene. the barn. the shadow wings. the hair??? getting stabbed in the chest by the man you just pulled out of hell. getting aaaallll up in that personal space. his little eyebrow. “you don’t think you deserve to be saved.” OUTRAGEOUSLY FLAMING

S4 EP02: “I dragged you out of hell I can throw you back in.” <<< this angel tops. mark dean down as scared and horny etc

S4 EP16: this ENTIRE EPISODE but specifically the part where dean tortures alastair as some kind of foreplay and then alastair kicks his ass. carved you into a new animal. jesus.

S4 EP16: wait I forgot about the part where cas also gets his ass kicked and looks all....hm. dazed and covered in blood while he’s on his knees and about to die. yeah.

S5 EP4: I mean this entire ep is unfairly horny considering everyone is dying of a zombie plague and hasn’t showered in like, 4 years but if I had to pick one hmmm. the dean/dean interrogation scene with the panty kink yeah I know it’s not original but hm. it happened. also misha collins just being able to convey that CAS IS A FLEXIBLE SLUT with a single roll of his shoulders. who SAYS this man can’t act!!!!!

S5 EP18: the ALLEY SCENE. DEAN DOESN’T FIGHT BACK. CAS HOLDS HIM UP OFF THE GROUND AND THEN THROWS HIM ACROSS THE ALLEY. WHY DID EVERYONE THINK CAS COULDN’T TOP. you all had brainworms.

S5 EP18: when cas locks dean in the panic room to stop him from saying yes to michael and “well cas not for nothing but the last person who looked at me like that I got laid” I hate this show. wait I think the blow me cas line is in this episode too what the fuck were they on here

S6 EP5: the scene where dean gets turned into a vampire. between the old dude who I think calls dean a pretty boy (??) and soulless sam....watching??? no ******* but there were just some absolutely foul energies in that scene and I still do not understand WHAT they were thinking

S6 EP20: cas doing a double smite on two demons by slamming them to the ground and then shoving another demon back in its vessel and then smiting him in the same motion. TOP. ENERGY.

S6 EP22: season 6 is possibly cas’ horniest season because he’s like, going through angel puberty after getting his first boner for dean, but the final cas eps are. whoof. cas eats a bunch of souls and proclaims himself to be a new god in order to handle said boner, and then the season ends with cas telling them to bow down and profess their love to him, their new lord, or he will destroy them. note: the way this is framed makes it look like cas is only staring at dean while he says this, even though sam and bobby are also there. the season ends with dramatic zooms on both cas and dean’s faces respectively. this made me actively regret ditching this show after s5 lol

S8 EP??: literally EVERY SINGLE PURGATORY FLASHBACK. cas dean and benny are all purgatory hot in the “pop 10 cranberry pills and risk the UTI” kind of way but also. dean being the hot girl bottom between two tops who hate each other. I really. whew. I need to go take a shower.

S8 EP17: if I get canceled for including the crypt scene on this list I blame you bud. but dean on his knees begging a brainwashed cas to stop killing him WAS sexy. how many times has dean been on his knees in this list wait there’s another one coming up next jsldjfsldkjf

S9 EP2: abaddon getting dean on his knees (YEAH) and pulling his hair and praising him for always coming when called HELLO???? the only thing that ruins this is dean says “I can’t tell if we’re gonna fight or make out” because this is the CW and they won’t let him say fuck

S9 EP6: ah. this entire episode is Emotionally Horny but the horny horny part is when they’re in the car and dean is telling cas to unbutton his shirt and. watches. I know this was on my destiel manifesto but I need it here too

S9 EP9: cas, covered in blood, slitting another angel’s throat and eating his grace after getting tortured. that shot alone made me understand why this website was so goddamn horny for misha collins for nearly a damn decade

S9 EP11: MARK OF CAIN BABEY. cain watching dean beat up a bunch of demons as an audition for taking on the mark, while crowley also is a fucking voyeur to the whole thing. cain is also a hot silver fox with daddy energies. I said what I said

S9 EP 16: dean getting the first blade. he’s chained to a pillar and being menaced by a foppish dandy who wants to add him to his “collection” (WOW). dean then kills him with the blade and whew. murder is sexy sometimes

S9 EP21: dean being pinned against a wall by abaddon��s power, then using the mark of cain to break her hold, calling the first blade to him psychically and then killing her. god the mark of cain is hot

S9 EP23: dean waking up with the demon eyes NUT

S10 EP2: demon dean beating up that dude with the boring backstory and kicking his ass. really was a go on baby I got your flower moment because I hated that dude and I love demon dean

S10 EP3: demon dean being chained up and taunting sam about how his brother is gone, then hunting sam through the bunker. demon dean in general was VERY fun for me, someone who loves trash

S10 EP9: dean going berserk and killing a bunch of pedophile rapists/child abusers. I’m sorry I know this show is trying to preach morality at me about monsters and unnecessary murder and humanity or whatever but we blew past that like 8 SEASONS AGO. also the mark of cain is sexy

S10 EP14: the rest of this list is really gonna be mark of cain stuff isn’t it look I’m here to have fun. cain and dean’s fight. cain continuously tossing his mane of hair back and taunting dean with the picture of what he’s going to become, who he’s going to kill. dean begging cain to tell him that he can stop, and then ultimately killing him. rip daddy.

S11 EP4: again I have not watched this however. every shot of this episode is PRESTIGE TELEVISION because driving a muscle car is sexy. and especially the shot of dean all beat to hell and begging his car to start and giving her a little kiss from his fingers to her dash. ugh. masculinity.

S12 EP10: the bearded salt-and-pepper daddy look returns, only it’s an angel this time and he’s wearing a vest and shirtsleeves and he swordfights with a hot redheaded lady in a suit and an eyepatch. this show is good sometimes!!! and oh fuck lol I just realized this is the same guy who played krissy’s hot hunter dad in s7 probably the first guy who’s hotter as an angel than a hunter. huh.

S12 EP 11: dean riding larry the mechanical bull to “broomstick cowboy.” I have no idea where this factors into the ep but I have seen. the youtube clip

S13 EP23: from what I can tell s13 is way more emotionally horny than boner horny, although dean burning cas’ body was sexy. but the horniest part was dean saying yes to michael and then michael taking over and saying “thanks for the suit.” we are going to ignore the silliest fight scene in existence as well as the final shot ending on a FREEZE FRAME like a goddamn tiktok

S14: not gonna pick a specific moment because I have not watched yet!!! but michael dean is hot. idk why michael is weirdly hot and I cannot stand any iteration of lucifer on this television programme. it should be the reverse but I’m forever an older sibling stan apparently. someone who is catholic could probably explain this better.

S15 EP13: genevieve padalecki and danneel ackles fight flirting as ruby and anael I CANNOT BELIEVE THEY HELD OUT ON THIS TILL THE LAST SEASON

I know I am missing things but this is already an absolutely incomprehensible screed. I know I’m missing shit from the latter seasons but give me time I’m pacing myself

#reply tag #spn tag #literally no one read this lol this is insane #Anonymous

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lordeasriel · 4 years ago

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The Sun never sets on the Magisterium

The reach of the Holy Church in Lyra’s world is the first and most prominent worldbuilding aspect we learn from Northern Lights. It is the most important introduction one has to this world, so vastly different than ours yet so similar still, and it is the one trait that remains constant throughout both trilogies and novellas included.

This is an analysis of the Church in Lyra’s world, so spoilers for all the books and novellas, most likely. I’ll try and make a single post about this but I’m gonna reserve the right of maybe doing two separate parts because it’s a big subject. Under the cut because you know the drill, it’s long lol

The Magisterium was founded after John Calvin’s death, who had been Pope, and had the seat of the Church moved to Geneva. Although it is never clear, the Magisterium’s religious aspects come mostly from the Roman Catholic Church, and Pullman himself said in an interview, that some of its dogma is based on the original puritans. In this world, Calvin didn’t seem to have moved forward with his reform, not needing to break ties with the Catholic Church since he had become the Catholic Church.

Despite becoming a vast collective of “courts, colleges, and councils,” the Magisterium remains rather similar to most Christian branches from our world, at least in the medieval times. They had ties with kingdoms, they had influence over colonization, as well as economic and political influence, not to mention military too.

In Lyra’s world, the Magisterium seems intimately tied to Geneva’s politics, at the very least; it gives the impression that the city is somehow independent from the rest of Switzerland, not unlike the Vatican is independent from Italy. It is however, mentioned that the Swiss War was an armed conflict between England and the Magisterium, which means that they must have a full fledged control over the entire country and not just Geneva, although like most things in these books, this is not a sure claim.

With the Swiss War happening some time around 1933 and 1935, it gives this wild and quite odd picture, of a Church actively trying to invade a country. Although not that foreign a concept, since the Catholic Church was highly involved with the colonization process of our world, they never quite invaded the countries themselves (at least during the 1500s colonizations, as the Crusades were sort of Catholics invading countries lmao), instead joining later as the Monarchs of Europe established outposts and colonies and had already subdued natives in the area.

We do not have an exact date for the Magisterium’s creation, the implication being that it was set somewhere 600 years prior to Marcel Delamare’s acceptance of Leader of the High Council in TSC, it is fair to assume that colonization was already happening in Lyra’s world’s 15th century-ish and that the Magisterium was involved with that much in the same way it was in our world: by converting people, be it by force or by persuasion.

However, in Lyra’s world, the Magisterium stopped being a fully religious entity at some point, and became a full fledge state-like organization, spread all across the globe in different shapes and names, all answering to the bigger and more powerful groups, usually stationed in Geneva: the College of Bishops during its initial centuries, then eventually the Consistorial Court of Discipline, who by NL had become an immensely powerful group, in a power conflict with the less threatening Society of the Work of the Holy Spirit. The CCD being the harshest and most powerful group in the Magisterium, at least during the events of HDM, seemed to have had a lot of power in Geneva and in nearby areas, such as France (as we learn in LBS, the alethiometrists of Paris were sympathetic to the Church, not a surprise given France’s very Catholic Background) and Germany.

With information known from LBS and HDM, the Magisterium seems to hold under its power both the Swiss Army (implied, at least, given the Swiss War being a conflict created by the Magisterium itself) and the Imperial Guard of Muscovy, which seemed to have been under the control of the CCD in particular. It is not explained exactly why the Muscovite Army serves the Church and personally, my knowledge of anything Eastern Europe is very slim, so I’m not gonna attempt to assume much, but given that in TSK it is said they were “sworn to uphold the power of the Magisterium”, it’s possible — and very likely — that the Muscovite government had some sort of deep rooted connection with the Church. Again, not a surprise for Europe, as most countries had monarchies connected to the Church very intimately.

I’m not diving deep into every single one of the Magisterium groups, especially because we know very little about most of them. During the Magisterium congress in TSC, it is mentioned that 53 delegates attended, each representing a group at least (we know both Pierre Binaud AND the President of the CCD attended and they both are part of the same group), so that alone should prove why I couldn’t possibly talk about every single one of them lmao Some of those aren’t even mentioned by name. So, before I tackle on the most important groups and what they represent, I wanted to discuss how the Magisterium’s influence in the world seems to work in a geographical way.

We know for a fact that Geneva — and Switzerland, at least implied so — is absolutely under the control of the Church. Whether they share power with a political group or they are the political branch themselves, I could not say, but at any rate, we know the Magisterium waged war on England under the Swiss banner at one point in time and it’s fairly unlikely that it changed much in less than a century; that alone proves that State and Church don’t seem separate here.

So, how I perceive the Church in Lyra’s world — not just based on preference, but also on what we see of the world, however little it is — is that the further the country and cities are from Geneva, the looser the Magisterium’s grasp is and the more different its approach to power becomes. I use the word ‘looser’ here very lightly, as I don’t think the Americas weren’t oppressed, but I think the Magisterium had a much different type of hold and influence there, and I do think the huge oceans separating Europe from Oceania and the Americas helped change the pull of the Church.

That is different from how it happened in our world, but there is also the difference in how the Magisterium operates; each of its groups work under different philosophies and dogmas and politics. They embody the same religion - Christianism - but they do not act the same way, a good example being how the faithful in Constantinople act towards the Patriarch, while England has very little respect for the CCD, instead just fearing it. In our world, the Church operated sort as an unified front, but in Lyra’s world these many groups are always and constantly fighting each other for power and influence, creating alliances and making enemies between themselves. In England alone, we see that many groups have “outposts” there, the CCD and the Oblation Board, as well as all the Priories and chapels and all that.

There is also the fact that Lyra’s world still seems to have a very independent Africa, as we see the presence of King Ogunwe, meaning that some of the areas in Africa still had independent Kingdoms. This doesn’t mean that the African colonies that did exist weren’t converted or oppressed, but it does mean that these independent Kingdoms resisted the Church’s influence and depending on what group was harassing them, they could succeed in breaking the Church’s ever growing presence. This seems a similar situation for the Americas, given how odd the borders are in Lyra’s world — South America having way less countries than it does in our worlds and the US never being formed, instead separated into at least two regions, three depending if New France means Canada or yet another part of a possible US.

This is a very ugly map I coloured to show my point lmao The Red Areas cover most of Western Europe and some of Eastern Europe, as well as a part of Russia. All these areas are connected by roads or trains, meaning that the Magisterium’s pull could have started long before airplanes were even created; these means the influence and presence would have existed for a long period of time in most of Europe, meaning More Magisterium Strength. It also covers areas I assumed would be heavily populated areas in the colonies, most of the coastal areas in Brasil, most of the United States because they have two different countries in them — Texas and New Denmark — and most of Coastal Australia, although by HDM it’s fair to assume all these regions are no longer colonies, but independent states.

I didn’t go into full detail, there are countries I didn colour with red but that should be red. The Green Areas are contested Areas, places where the Magisterium would have a presence but that would create conflicts for different reasons, being other religions, an uncooperative governement or simply because the group in charge of the area is not competent or too violent to properly establish a presence. This would be the areas in the continents, especially in Africa, where in our world they were heavily colonised but in Lyra’s world they are still independent kingdoms, with military forces and political freedom. Some parts of Russia are green because in Lyra’s world there is the implication Russia is divided into at least three different territories — Muscovy, Tartary and Siberia — and the tartars are considered heretics by the Church; is the territory I painted in green correspondent to actual Tartar regions? I have no idea, but I’m hoping you can forgive my geographic inaccuracy in favour of all this mega meta thing I just spurred. LMAO

And finally the Purple Areas are mostly in places where the weather would be too harsh or where population would be too small to attract the eye of the Magisterium. Ultimately, the Church in Lyra’s world does not only seek to convert everyone and rid the world of heretics, but they also want political influence, economical and military as well, and a small village in Greenland offers absolutely none of that. Some of these areas would also be found in Asia, I believe, especially the very distant and small villages where Islam would have been able to survive. I’ve written a bit about other religions in Lyra’s world if you want to read before going on.

With all that in mind — and out of the way! — let’s take a closer look at the Magisterium most notable groups. Starting of course, with the CCD, it’s important to keep in mind that the CCD was the first group created in the Magisterium. It wasn’t always, however, the most powerful one; in Northern Lights, it’s said they only gained notoriety in “recent years”, and we see in La Belle Sauvage that they were already active, including in England, so my assumption is that not only Pullman did a slight retcon here, but also that recent years can mean somewhere in the range of 70 to 100 years. This doesn’t change the fact the CCD became powerful and feared in the Magisterium, nor that their power in England grew considerably between LBS and TAS and then TSC. They are mostly an enforcer type of group (this is how I refer to them, not canon: enforcer or militia for groups that can arrest, or do any type of Police/militia/army related type of work; dogmatic is how I refer to the groups that usually deal with conversion, reeducation, philosophical works - this isn’t relevant, I’m just. Trying to Make Sense lmao) and as an enforcer, the CCD is violent and ruthless and often lawless in its work outside Geneva.

Despite the fact they are known as a Church Authority, they cannot murder freely and without consequence. In England they act in the shadows during LBS, disguising Robert Luckhurt’s murder as a drowning, and not much is known about their work during HDM, but in TSC they start to openly arrest people for heresy, no doubt a change from the government after Marcel’s rise to power. The CCD seems to act all across Europe and even Central Asia, as we see some of its forces in Constantinople, although it isn’t clear if they were there simply because the Patriarch died or if they are also stationed in the city; the Sublime Porte had its own guards as well, given its status as a government base.

Not much is known of the Society of the Work of the Holy Spirit, except that they seemed less harsh than the CCD and during their quest to find Lyra, they were far more interested in not killing her. Lord Asriel mentions in TAS about his surprise in learning that Lord Roke managed to infiltrate the group, as they were considered impregnable; given Lady Salmakia’s method, and the whole attitude of the group towards the prophecy — it was assumed they weren’t going to do anything about it — I’d safely assume they were more inclined towards being dogmatic.

Perhaps even older than the CCD, the College of Bishops was perhaps inherited from the Catholic Church before the Magisterium was born. It was known to be the most remarkable and powerful of the groups for centuries after the creation of the Magisterium. Not much is said about them, but given their counterpart in our world, I’d assume they were more inclined towards dogma than enforcer. They are, in our world, a collection of bishops who work closely with the Pope; in Lyra’s world, by the time the Magisterium existed, the Pope no longer existed, so the assumption is that the College replaced the Pope figure altogether, being led by all the bishops in the collection, probably working like a council.

Everything we know about La Maison Juste is confusing and unclear, as most things worldbuilding-wise are in these books. Their official name is League for the Instauration of the Holy Purpose, which coincides with Olivier Bonneville’s description of their work, about “accomodating the life of the world to the life of the spirit”. In other words, it means making sure that daily life can be fitted into the dogma of the Church; it’s vital for the Magisterium to adapt as progress comes. Unlike the CCD, that suppress anything that borders heresy, La Maison Juste seems more inclined towards adapting the dogma so the world can still be within the Magisterium’s expectations.

However, there is mention of La Maison Juste being a place meant to study and examine heresy; there is also a mention in TSC, by Olivier, about how the group changed under Marcel’s leadership, “being a force for good” in the ranks of the Magisterium. What that means exactly, I can’t say; it could be Marcel changed the heresy examination to something more productive and less harsh, or it could just mean he became more strict towards heresy, but that would conflict with Olivier’s description about the accomodation thing. At any rate, I do classify them as dogmatic, and we see Marcel using the CCD to go after Olivier when he flees Geneva; it’s curious because there seems to be implied the CCD outranks his group, but he still uses their forces to do anything remotely violent. There is however, a passage where Lyra lies to a guard from the Office of Right Duty about being part of La Maison Juste, and the guard gets spooked. This is curious because La Maison Juste barely seems remarkable up until the congress happens, but the mention scares the man off.

Two groups — that we know of — were responsibility of Mrs. Coulter. The League of St. Alexander seemed to have been created around the same time LBS happens (roughly 1986 if the timeline makes any sense, which probably doesn’t). Hannah Relf learns at some point that Marisa was behind it, but it’s never clear what was her role in it exactly. It doesn’t look like the League was a private initiative, but actually tied to the Church and it was as good a Scam as any. Marisa being behind it didn’t necessarily mean she was the active leader of the group, as they mention a man under the codename Bishop seemed to be in charge, but then again, I cannot say with certainty. They were definitely a dogmatic group, with brainwashing added to the mix, but they seemed to have mutated over time and it isn’t clear whether they only existed in England or not.

The General Oblation Board was Mrs. Coulter’s actual, proper group. It was a private initiative, under the CCD’s rule, but the nature of their work seemed to threaten the CCD’s leadership in the Magisterium. MacPhail made an extra effort to try and dismantle them, especially because he believed that Dust should be destroyed and not examined. I don’t think the fate of the group was ever disclosed, despite their losses, but by TAS MacPhail mentions them as if they are still functioning. Whether they survived up to TSC is not clear, but it’s also hard to imagine what could they have become without Marisa. It’s also interesting to think what would have happened to the Magisterium, had Marisa succeeded in taking the place of the CCD; a private initiative group as the most powerful group in the Magisterium would have caused drastic changes, and probably opened the doors to the big corporations much sooner than Marcel’s work in TSC. The GOB could be classified as dogmatic, given their interest in Dust, but they were far more into scientific research than La Maison Juste seems to be, for example. They also had their own private guards, so no need for the CCD’s enforcers.

I think these groups showcase well how the Magisterium operates. The further we see Lyra go into the East, we realise how the grip of the Church seems lighter and far more military inclined. Is the Magisterium everywhere? Frankly, I don’t think so. I think they have a substantial presence in every country with any amount of political influence or power; any country that might offer opposition. We know they tried to conquer England through an actual war, which is quite odd for a religion, but this is where the Theocracy takes it place in Lyra’s world: they become a single unified front with their country — Switzerland, in this case — and the countries where they have more power, they can also control. The places they can’t take by force, they take with dogma and faith, and slowly overthrow these governments by turning their people against themselves.

They are so vastly fragmented that even places with small groups are affected by their presence, no matter small and odd that can be. It’s both curious and terrifying to see a world so deeply overwhelmed by a single opponent, but then again, it’s not that far off our reality. The Magisterium doesn’t represent just faith and religion, but also the big oligarchies, and how governments bend to the will of big companies, and how these aligned forces can become oppressive over time. The Church’s hold across Europe, Africa and Asia was not fast and unpredictable; it was obvious and slow. It started with small conversions and with time, the Church become a force of sustainability for different regions; they become an important part of the enviroment, of the economy, of the security of the country. They become something to be relied on and thus removing them become difficult over time as well, as the micro societies — the neighborhoods, the small villages — they become reliant on the Church’s helpful groups to survive, meaning that their fear of the enforcers are overwhelmed by the help of the Chapels, and the priories.

It’s the creation of a co-dependent ecosystem that is very difficult to dissolve without harming innocent people.

#hdm meta: worldbuilding #hdm meta: the magisterium #hdm meta: religion #hdm meta: politics #hdm meta #lmao it's a lot of meta this blog is very organised #the magisterium #his dark materials #the book of dust #meta by effie

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larryfanficwriter98 · 4 years ago

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Ten

*Fake It Until You Make It Real*

-SMEXY TIME NEAR THE END I'LL WARN YOU JUST BEFORE IT STARTS- Also please enjoy my Storytime about this chapter's journey

Let me tell you about the roller coaster that this chapter has been through. I have rewritten this chapter a million and one times in the last few weeks that I honestly have no idea how I finished it. Then right when I got the idea I wanted to stick with my phone BETRAYED ME BY PLAYING GOSPEL MUSIC WHILE WRITING MY SMEX SCENE!!! GOSPEL!!! I was raised catholic though I'm not religious anymore BUT LET ME TELL YOU WHEN THAT WILL THE CIRCLE BE UNBROKEN VERSE CAME ON AS I WROTE ABOUT GAY RIM JOBS!! My grandma probably rolled over in her grave a few times, my lights flickered, my computer went out of sleep mode...y'all made me summon my grandma and that woman does not like me. She opened my closet door and had the nerve to not shut it after she left. My grandma sang that song every morning so that song summons her and it just happens to be the song that plays while I write about one of the many things she did not believe in.

Side note- Not sure if roadblocks are a thing in the UK/Manchester area but in my town there is a roadblock every Friday and Saturday night (obviously except during the pandemic) and when I tell you they will find every drunk driver above the legal limit that is on the main roads I am not exaggerating. So I mentioned them in this chapter because I'm American and that's what I'm use to. Also throughout this story you will notice I go back and forth between UK English and USA English because I try to respect that this is technically based in the UK and they're British and I know a lot of my readers are British, but I am not therefore I use different wording. If you are ever confused and can't find the correct term googling it please comment and I will tell you what it means.

That is all. Enjoy.

On his days off and hours he had to spare during his workdays Harry finished Freddie's bedroom and had went through Maddie's old clothes in her closet that no longer fit. He also had started going through the toy room downstairs digging through the toys from many years ago that he still had that she played with occasionally for a few seconds. He reorganized the toys and space and made sure there was plenty of room for Freddie's toys and future toys he knew he would buy him come Christmas and his birthday. He took down a few old princess dresses that didn't fit and the accessories and made a note in his home journal to ask Maddie if she wanted him to replace them when he spoke to her next. He made little notes as he threw toys in bags or moved larger things out of the room and by the week of Halloween his home was all ready for Louis and Freddie to start moving in. He left his Murano and keys at Louis' place for that week while he took his Audi to and from work for the few days that he worked and the other days he helped Louis and as promised he was the one who took the train table apart and rebuilt it back inside the playroom at his house.

"Come on Louis all five of us are off tomorrow I can call Amy and ask if she can babysit Freddie at my place and we all go there afterwards." Harry begged.

"Harry, I haven't even met Amy yet or talked with Freddie or even had five minutes to think about it. I'm not going to stop you from going out with your friends and if you want to invite Zayn out then go ahead, he'll be all for it. But I just- I haven't been out to a pub in years not like that at least. The last time I left Freddie with anyone other than Zayn or my mom I was given a fifteen-minute lecture about the apparent abuse and neglect I was inflicting on him by being twenty-two and having fun. I just...I don't want to leave him alone and-"

"Louis you are entitled to have fun a few nights. You're allowed to get a babysitter for a night once in a while. Amy is amazing and you will love her instantly and Freddie will like her. You will cause more harm not taking some you time than you will going out once a month to get drunk. We won't even get wasted we'll eat greasy bar food and have a pint or two then go home. I swear to you, you and I will not get drunk if you're worried about not being available for Freddie tomorrow. You're an amazing Papa Louis and I have no doubt a little hangover will never stop you from being there for Freddie but if you want to stay sober then we can."

"I'm not going to make you stay sober just because I am the lamest twenty-four-year-old around."

"You're not lame. You're a parent. A parent with full time custody. I'm not, I don't have all the...precautions and feelings that you do. It's okay to have boundaries with your son, if you don't want us going inside a home, he is at drunk then we won't drink, or Amy can watch him at your place, and you can drop us off at mine then go home. Whatever you want it's fine and we will respect that. You don't have to worry about hurting feelings or sounding lame. Liam and Niall will completely understand if they are limited to one beer. They will respect that."

"It's not that either. I just want to think about it first. Tell you what, tell Amy to call me at my lunch if she can then I'll give you my answer after we talk." Louis said as he unlocked his classroom door before walking to his desk and setting his stuff down.

"Alright. I'm sorry. I just- I think it'll be fun for all five of us to do something before Halloween this weekend. Since you don't have school tomorrow and I'm off until the third and Liam and Niall are off tomorrow, they proposed a night out. It's okay if you don't want to though, we'll all be together Saturday anyway."

"I'm not upset or feeling pressured relax. I just want to think about it. I will let you know everything when I know." Louis said grabbing Harry's hands as he leaned against his desk.

"Okay. Fair enough. I'm going to go home and finish some last-minute things for this weekend then tomorrow we can go shopping together with Freddie then pick up Maddison and have a family dinner outing then have a family movie night. What do you say?"

"I say that sounds like a wonderful Friday night. I'm glad you were able to get Maddison this weekend."

"Yeah, it wasn't easy. I'm just happy I can have her around my family after so long. My family hasn't seen her in years. Not in person for more than a few minutes at a store at least. I should go before your kids come into the room and see me with their teacher. I'm sure that's in the rule book somewhere."

"Something like that." Louis agreed, "You're allowed in my room just no inappropriate displays of affection upfront of students."

"Ah so I should get my goodbye kiss before they come." Harry said quickly grabbing Louis' face and kissing it all over. Louis laughed and swatted at him pushing him off before he pulled Harry down for a proper kiss with his hands on Harry's wrists as Harry's hands cups his face.

"MISTER T!" Louis jumped pulling away turning red as his early arrivals entered his classroom teasing him already.

"I'll talk to you later." Harry said chuckling.

"Oh, don't stop on our behalf." One of his students teased.

"Don't you kids have breakfast to attend?" Louis said.

"Why should we when the tea is obviously all right here." Harry laughed before he kissed Louis' cheek and left the classroom with a grin leaving Louis to fend for himself amongst the teenagers, "is that the fiancé mister T?"

"Yes, it was and you three saw nothing."

*****

"You didn't text me after lunch." Harry said by way of greeting Louis when Louis got into the Murano.

"I know I forgot my charger at the apartment and wasn't able to charge it. The Nursery teacher called me after Amy, and I had to talk to Freddie because he was upset, he forgot his stuffy at the apartment. I obviously couldn't go get it then my phone died just as I was starting to calm him down, so I haven't eaten my lunch yet nor have I been able to text you." Louis said with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry. You know you can add my name and number to the nursery call list. I can do things...I am going to be your husband, your partner."

"I know you've told me this before I just keep forgetting to since the mornings are always so routine and the afternoons, I'm usually ready to just go home."

"Well how about we do it today. We'll go in together. Then I'll call the boys and tell them we can do it another time and-"

"No, we can go tonight as long as Freddie is okay by the time we want to leave. I told Amy she can come by an hour early so Freddie can get comfortable with her first and we'll decide then anyway."

"Are you sure? It's okay if you want to stay home and get pampered."

"I could use a beer. One beer for me at least."

"Okay. And if we have to wait until Freddie goes to sleep to have that one beer we can. Honestly, it doesn't matter to me as long as you and Freddie are comfortable and happy." Harry said kissing his hand as he drove across the street to the nursery.

******

Louis had kept himself at one beer though he had tried to convince Harry to have fun and get drunk, but Harry had kept himself at two. That didn't stop him from going on the dance floor with Liam who was already on his fourth beer.

"So, tell me about Freddie. I mean obviously Harry talks about him all the time, but I'm sure you can tell me something new." Niall said.

"Really? What does Harry tell you?" Louis asked not at all bothered just curious, he knew Harry had told his friends about Freddie, but he didn't realize Harry talked about Freddie with them.

"Literally everything. The easier question to answer would be what he doesn't tell us. He loves that boy you know, has a picture of you and him in his locker beside his picture of Maddie. Has a picture of him in his wallet too. Harry includes him when he talks about Maddie and sometimes when he gets really animated, he calls him his stepson instead of his fiancé's son. It's cute and I don't think he realizes it." Louis grinned as he looked over at Harry who was being spun by Liam.

"I didn't know that. I think he's worried about going too fast with Freddie considering everything."

"Yeah, he is, but he means well. I get why you two waited so long to mention it to us, with Harry's court situation and with Hannah and with you having Freddie. It's understandable you two just wanted to stay on the low until you knew where it was going. What I don't understand however is why have a wedding so soon?"

"Yeah, Lou why so soon? Are you-"

"NO! No, I am not." Louis quickly said when he saw Niall's eyes widen with excitement, "No. I won't lie the custody situation did encourage me to push for it sooner and also we both wanted a winter wedding, but we also both wanted a small intimate wedding and with all those factors I figured why not do it in January. We talked about it and concluded that if we could make it work then why not. The custody situation alone didn't pressure me into it and neither did anything else it was just a why not situation. We knew we wanted to get married so why wait an extra year. There will be some sacrifices of course, but nothing that is very major or decision changing for either of us."

"I guess that makes sense. That's what Harry said as well that it was just sort how it was planned. I knew Harry wouldn't have pressured you, but I also know Harry can sometimes be a bit...pressuring without meaning to."

"I haven't felt pressured in anyway with him. I know he can be pushy at times, but he has always stepped back when he needed to. Actually, I haven't found any flaws except his puns and dad jokes and - is he always fucking perfect? Like is that a trait his entire family has or just him?" Niall laughed as he set down his fifth empty pint glass.

"Perfect? Harry? I have no idea what you're talking about. That man is not perfect."

"He is perfect, he's always so...composed and in control of himself."

"You do see him on the dance floor, right?" Zayn asked making Louis turn and burst out laughing as he saw Harry and Liam doing a circle while shimmying together.

"WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT TOMLINSON!" Liam shouted.

"YOU PAYNO!" Niall shouted back.

"Go to hell Irish." Liam shouted as he grabbed Harry's hands and spun together dramatically.

"Okay so he's not always perfect..." Louis conceded, "But he's pretty damn close."

"I think you're blinded by those biceps Lou." Zayn said making Louis turn red as his jaw dropped.

"WHAT?!"

"I mean I can't blame you Dr. Styles definitely has a nice body. I'm impressed honestly. You're not one to go after muscular men."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Louis said looking down at his empty glass with melting ice.

"I tried to hit on Harry when he was transferred to Manchester Royal. I was already a nurse there and here comes this hot young doctor who had scrubs that hid nothing from view if you get what I mean." Niall said, "I mean I'm sure you get what I mean you probably caused a few...accidents during your secret stays." Louis buried his burning face into his hands and refused to acknowledge Niall and Zayn laughing their asses off beside him.

"What kind of view are we talking about Niall?"

"Okay we're done talking." Louis said quickly interrupting that train of conversation as he slid out of the stool and headed to where Harry and Liam were, "I'm stealing him back." Louis said wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders.

"Only for a few minutes Tomlinson I'll be back for him after a pint. And don't think a boner will deter me we slept in the same bed during puberty when we had sleepovers." Liam said as he headed back to the table with a playful wink and a blown kiss towards Harry who playfully caught it and put it in his pocket winking at Liam right back and puckering his lips. Louis chuckled shaking his head as he pulled Harry away from the table's view and further into the crowd of dancing people.

"Ready to go home?"

"In a little bit, it is getting really late considering we only planned to be out until eleven. I think it's one already."

"Yeah, sorry I know you wanted be home. We can leave-"

"In a little bit Harold. For now, this is as close to a pub date as you're getting from me for some time which means we have to snog in the middle of aroused strangers who are grinding on us in all directions and probably trying to grab one of our wallets without us realizing. It's a relationship requirement." Harry grinned nodding as he looked around.

"I think we're meeting all the requirements."

"All except for one."

"Ah right let me correct that." Louis laughed as Harry wrapped his arms around Louis' waist and pulled him closer to his body just as their lips met. Slowly, almost hesitantly, their bodies started to move and after a few minutes, they were one of the many couples dry humping each other on the middle of the dance floor. Harry grabbed Louis' hand and spun him around then wrapped the arm around his waist and pressed him against his body causing Louis's breath to catch momentarily. He leaned back against Harry, leaning his head on his shoulder letting Harry keep his arms wrapped around his waist while his mouth stayed on his neck mouthing at him in various spots. Louis' hands slid up and behind to wrap around Harry's neck pulling him closer as he turned his face to kiss him again letting Harry's tongue take control while one of his hands cupped his cheek keeping him there. Louis could feel Harry's other hand twitching from where it was rested against his stomach, it was one of the things Louis had learned about Harry that he was very touchy and handsy when they snogged and tended to keep his hands firmly in place on his cheeks, waist, hips, or back not moving them at all except to those safe locations. Harry definitely liked to touch more than he liked anything while also being respectful and mindful of his hand placements and where it was deemed safe to touch. He was also very willing to let Louis be in charge, didn't seem to have any hang-ups about ''roles'' or positions that were stereotypically associated with carriers and non-carriers who were gay unlike most people.

"Oi if you're going to give us a free show at least do something worth watching!"

"Remind me to kill Liam tomorrow morning." Harry whispered against his lips.

"Sure thing." Louis said turning to face him only to be kissed again once he did, "We're being watched Harold."

"Fine. We can continue this behind a closed bedroom door preferably locked too." Louis chuckled as he followed Harry back to the table, "You're getting killed tomorrow morning. Are we ready to head out?"

"Sure, I am and yeah we are. I already paid the tab, so we just need to figure out who is the more sober one of us all and get to your place."

"That's probably Louis or myself." Harry said.

"I can drive." Louis offered, "I only had a pint, I'll be the safest if we hit a roadblock."

"Agreed. Here you are my love. Let's head home." Harry said placing the keys into Louis' hands before wrapping his arm around his waist and walking with him out of the building while the others followed closely behind.

"I have to pee so bad." Harry said running up the stairs as soon as the front door was opened. "Holy fuck my bladder is about to explode."

"Harry always has to pee after a beer. I swear it goes straight through him." Liam said shaking his head, "don't worry we'll show Zayn to the guest rooms and make sure he's comfortable."

"Thanks, I want to check on Freddie really quick. Zayn-"

"I'll be fine." Louis nodded then headed upstairs to Freddie's room entering it as silently as he could. He gave Freddie a forehead kiss then fixed his blankets and tucked him in. He grabbed Patches off the floor and laid the bear beside Freddie then stared at his son until he felt Harry sit behind on the edge of the bed.

"If you stay here any longer, he'll wake up and neither of us are strong enough to say no to a half-asleep Freddie wanting snuggles." Louis chuckled nodding but he didn't move. Harry stood only to kneel on the side of the bed and gently run his fingertips though the messy hair. He gave Freddie a light kiss as well then stood up and pulled Louis up wrapping his arms around his waist as he guided him out of the room, "let him sleep Papa bear. He's fine and we have a busy two days starting tomorrow."

"I know I know I just wanted to make sure he was okay."

"Uh huh. Sure, you did. I'm sure you were hoping he'd wake up."

"Only a small part of me was hoping that would happen. I can't help it he's growing up too fast and soon he'll be too cool for snuggles."

"I still snuggle my mom, if he's raised right, he'll never be too cool for snuggles. And trust me I'll make sure he's raised to love snuggles when he's fifteen." Louis laughed as they walked into Harry's bedroom, well their bedroom now since they were mostly moved in by now. Louis turned in Harry's arms, so they faced one another and wrapped his arms around his neck.

"You know Niall told me something at the table."

"Oh?" Harry questioned wrapping his arms around Louis' waist.

"He told me you have a picture of Freddie in your locker."

"I do in a magnetic frame beside Maddie. You're in the picture too."

"He also told me you call him your stepson when you talk about him."

"I might say that word a few times." Harry said nervously as his cheeks turned red, "I love Freddie, I've told you he's my family now." Louis grinned as he stood on his toes and pressed his lips against Harry's pulling him in closer by his hand in Harry's hair. He walked back until his back hit one of the boards of the four-poster bed frame. Harry moved in and completely covered his body with his own slotting himself between Louis' legs.

"I don't want to like assume anything but-"

"Harry I am pressed up against your bed post by my own decision and you're worried about assuming things?" Harry laughed nodding.

~~The Smex starts in a few paragraphs~~(Smex spelling is so wattpad doesn't get their sensitive feelings hurt by already pre-tagged warnings of smex and the mature thingy tagged...they're pansies)

"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted...assuming you're not on contraception methods which I'm not going to make you get on or anything obviously I know that can affect your body more ways than they tell you, I was going to ask what you wanted to do like if you wanted to top or if you have a preference. I'm sure you've noticed I have none and am completely fine with any method since I can't get pregnant. I mean obviously I have condoms and I’m obviously clean and everything I just don’t want to assume anything like you want to bottom just because you’re a carrier and I don’t want you to assume I only want to top because I’m not a carrier and I have an ‘’alpha male job’’ as some like to call it nowadays.”

“Oh well I usually don’t top unless I’m in my more fertile week. As I’m sure you know since men don’t ovulate or menstruate, we have a week of higher fertility rate that we can track by weekly pee sticks. Don’t care to know the science behind it so please don’t tell me.”

“I can give you a long lecture about your hormones and-“

“Don’t make me soft Harold.”

“Well alright. Are you-“

"No, it's always the first or second week of the month, it sometimes comes in the middle of the week, I usually take one very two days until I get it. So, stop worrying and stop talking." Harry chuckled as he pressed his lips against Louis' again pressing himself against Louis who was pressed against the bedpost. Louis' hands ran up under Harry's shirt bunching it until Harry pulled it off followed by Harry pulling Louis' shirt off. Their jeans and pants were off and in a few short moments Louis was bent over the bed with Harry between his legs giving him a mind-numbing rim-job. Something that not five minutes ago Louis would have said he hated because he never had a good one. Louis was very aware of the fact that they currently had six people on the same floor only few feet from them and one of those people being his son, which was why he was trying extremely hard to stay as quiet as he could. However, when two fingers joined Harry’s tongue at his entrance Louis gasp resisting the want to push back against them.

“I could do this all night. How are you feeling?” Harry asked smugly.

“Like if you continue, I’ll cum way too soon.” Louis said trying to swat at Harry but missed.

“If you think that’ll stop me you’ve got another thing coming. Literally.” Louis burst out laughing which quickly turned into a too loud moan that Louis just knew anyone awake on the second floor heard it.

“You ass you did that on purpose.”

“Well, they say you are what you eat.”

“You did not just say that.” Louis said laughing as he buried his face in a pillow muffling any and all sounds that came from him from that point forward. Harry kept his promise as he spread his cheeks wider giving him more room to lick his entrance pushing his tongue in.

A large hand wrapped around his cock and started tugging on it painfully slow while his tongue moved as fast as physically possible. When Harry removed his tongue, he sucked and ran a thumb over the wet hole before going back in not giving Louis any time to breathe between all the sensations. Despite all that not once was it hurried or rough in a way that took away the intimacy of a first time together. Louis moaned as he felt his orgasm building, he could feel it all building under his skin and when it was released it was released in strong spurts on the duvet cover underneath him and Harry didn’t stop until nothing else came out. Then when Louis was sure he’d get some time to breathe Harry pushed two thick lubed fingers inside of him making him groan in pleasure and slight pain at the over simulation.

“You’re not going to let me breathe?” Louis asked breathlessly.

“You’re breathing now, aren’t you?” Louis laughed shaking his head, “You’ll be fine I have faith in you and your lungs. You just relax and enjoy and let me know if you’re too sensitive. I am a doctor I know how to avoid a prostate.”

“No get out you’ve gone and ruined it with a doctor joker.” Louis said.

“Oh hush.” Harry said leaning over Louis to kiss his shoulder as his fingers slowly moved inside of him. Louis was all for slow fingering, but it was currently almost three in the morning and they had a long busy weekend coming up.

“Harry I’m all for slow sex and all but it is almost three in the morning and-“

“I’m obviously not doing it right if you’re able to think.” Louis opened his mouth to retort that Harry was doing great and it was just that it was almost three in the morning, but all thought process escaped his head when Harry pushed three fingers inside of him and started thrusting them, brushing them against his prostate. He moaned not even bothering with the pillow as he gripped the duvet in his fists before Harry rolled him on to his back. He arched his back as his legs spread almost automatically to give Harry’s arm more space between his legs. Louis cursed repeatedly when Harry wrapped his mouth around Louis’ head sucking it down as he fingered Louis, his second orgasm came as a surprise as Harry swallowed it all before Louis even realized he was cumming. Louis pulled Harry down for a kiss as soon as he had enough oxygen in his body and felt no shame when he could still taste himself on Harry’s tongue. His hands gripped Harry’s hair before he rolled them over, so he was straddling Harry’s hips as they snogged. Louis reached over and grabbed the condom on the nightstand then opened it and slowly slid it down Harry’s hard cock. Harry gasped tensing when Louis rolled the condom on before he relaxed and helped position Louis as he held himself in place. They broke the kiss momentarily so Harry could help guide Louis, he thrust up just enough, so the head entered the ring of muscle then his mouth was back on Louis’ to muffle the majority of the sounds that came out as he slowly slid himself down. When Louis was completely seated on Harry, he knew neither one of them would last long for multiple reasons. Louis slowly started a rhythm that he was comfortable with at first since he hadn’t had sex in years then slowly it sped up by both of their doings then Harry rolled them, so Louis was on his back when Louis was wearing out. The new position and angle had Louis burying his face in Harry’s neck before Harry was kissing him again. Harry started thrusting harder and faster leaving Louis to gasp and let out high pitched noises that he couldn’t help and only hoped they were as quiet as they seemed. When Louis came for a third time it was followed almost immediately by Harry as he groaned holding Louis close to him keeping their faces buried in the other’s neck.

“Holy fuck I can’t move.” Louis burst out laughing as rubbed Harry’s sweaty back as they slowly caught their breathes, “I’m serious I can’t move. We’re stuck like this. One and done.”

“I wouldn’t call that one and done.” Louis said making Harry laugh, “I’d call that almost two hours and done.”

“Last time I focus on your pleasure.” Harry joked before he kissed Louis’ forehead then straightened up and gently pulled out. Louis watched as Harry got off the bed and headed into the bathroom leaving the door wide open as he balled up some toilet paper and pulled the condom off. After tying it off he tossed it in the trash then he wet a washcloth and wipe himself off before he came over to Louis and wiped him off making sure to get everything from lube to the dried cum on his ass from when he rolled over the first time. Once that was done, he tossed it into the hamper and pulled off the duvet.

“Are you really stripping your bed? Right now?” Louis teased.

“No, I’m just pulling the duvet cover off, so we don’t accidentally sleep in cum or lube. If you dirty my white duvet, you’re in trouble though.”

“I promise not to ruin your fancy duvet.”

“Good.” Harry crawled into bed and pulled the duvet over them, “Come here and cuddle.” Louis grinned turning to face Harry as he snuggled into his warm body tucking his head against his chest and wrapping his arms arounds his waist, “Perfect. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

#Larry Stylinson #larry shippers #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson fanfiction #larries #fake marriage #larry fake marraige au #nonfamous au #doctor harry styles #teacher louis #Wattpad #archive of our own #parents au

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saintandsinnerwrites · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: Saint and I decided to try to write this prompt collaboratively. (Also somehow I managed to delete the ask so here’s a screenshot lmao) I primarily wrote Jan and she did Rosé. It was a fun way to fill this prompt. Let us know if you enjoyed our little collab 😘 -Sinner

CW: monsterfucking, inhuman anatomy, and blasphemy probably

Blacklist tag cwmonsterfucking if you’d rather sit this one out 💖

Jan couldn’t deny there was something strange about the sorority house, but she liked the girls so much that she’d accepted her bid and pledged. Education was now over and it was time for initiation.

Jan did think it was odd that the ritual was one at a time instead of all together as a pledge class, but each night at midnight one of the pledges would go down to the basement alone for their initiation ritual and tonight it was Jan’s turn. She had to admit she was a little nervous.

Denali had been in her pledge class and had been initiated the night before and she’d told Jan not to be scared and just ‘let it happen’, whatever that meant.

Jan was dressed all in white as an angel, complete with wings and a halo, her soon to be full sisters all in black as they prepared Jan for her initiation. She held her big Jackie’s hand, waiting for them to tell her it was time.

When it was, she descended quietly to the basement, not sure what to expect. The whole sorority was upstairs. Surely it was nothing too bad? All the girls were nice and sweet. She couldn’t imagine them doing anything bad to her.

Jan looked around the fairly plain basement. Oddly, the only thing down there was a plush bed. Jan looked under it. Nothing. She sat on the side and waited for something to happen...

Rosé looked on from the shadows when the girl was led downstairs for her initiation. An angel costume, huh? Well that was certainly interesting, and she smirked to herself knowing damn well the other girls did that on purpose. Jan was her name as she had overheard Jan's sorority sisters talking about this very day. She knew Jan had no idea what was about to happen, none of them did. They were just led to the bed to await their fate, but all the girls loved every moment of their little ritual. After a couple minutes Rosé decided to speak to her, but still stayed cloaked in the darkness. “Are you excited about your initiation? Anxious? Curious?"

Jan jumped at little at the unexpected voice and then gasped at the owner of the voice. The... creature? Beast? Devil? was completely red, furry in parts with hair horns, large inhuman ears, and long nails or claws, but a still rather humanoid appearance.

Jan was surprised, but the creature was smiling at her. She was pretty, with a curvy figure and a handsome face. “Very curious. Are you the one initiating me?” She had wondered who would do the actual ritual with the whole sorority upstairs. “Who are you?”

"I am." Rosé chuckled, mainly to herself. Bless this girl. She was so fucking cute. “I'm the Devil, baby. But you can call me Rosé"

Maybe it was the years of Catholic schooling but Jan just stared at her. She was so humanoid it occurred to Jan, a theater kid herself, that this was probably an actress in a costume. “The Devil huh? You don’t look like The Devil. The one and only?”

"Tell me, what exactly do you expect the Devil to look like?"

“The most beautiful of God’s angels, Lucifer Morningstar, who became Satan himself, The Devil. You are not he?” Jan looked at her skeptically. “I would have paid a lot more attention in religious studies if the devil had looked like you.”

"I am going to stop you right there at 'he'. God, nor I, the Devil, are men or male presenting at all. But we all know the human men writing everything down hated women, so here we are. With yet another inaccurate portrayal of the divine and the damned. Though, I don't consider myself damned in any way, just a hedonist, babe."

Jan frowned. “Is this part of the initiation ritual?” This actress was really into this role...

"I like to correct those who still believe the falsehoods those so-called churches taught them. But no, it's not. The initiation ritual is much more physical."

“Physical?” Jan stood up. She was a cheerleader and a soccer player. She could do physical. “What do I do?”

Rosé walked over to her and pulled her close, "I can tell you're curious about me. Touch me."

Jan couldn’t lie. She was very curious about this devil. “Your costume and prosthetics are incredible.” She very gently stroked an ear, not expecting it to be warm and responsive to her touch. “Oh!”

"That's because it's not a costume, baby," she said with a chuckle. "Also, it's quite appropriate that you're dressed as an angel. Or maybe it's inappropriate, considering the circumstances."

“Inappropriate?” She asked quizzically. She was starting to wonder if this wasn’t a costume. “What do you mean?”

"Do you realize what being dressed up as an angel means for this initiation?"

“...isn’t everyone?” She hadn’t seen Denali dressed as an angel yesterday. But like her she’d likely arrived in just her white dress.

"No, lovely, only virgins are dressed as angels," Rosé purred.

Jan assumed that was part of the initiation, not realizing fully what Rosé meant. “Oh is that why full sisters wear black? They get ‘devirginized’?” She made air quotes.

"Essentially, yeah, it mainly signifies that their ritual is already complete, but no longer being a virgin is just part of the territory," Rosé explained, tipping Jan's head up to face her. "Do you get what I'm saying, darling?"

Jan studied her eyes and then realized. She blushed deeply. “Oh!”

Rosé pulled Jan into her lap and pressed a kiss to her cheek, "I'll make it good for you, baby. I've always made every single girl I've been with cum fucking hard. I'd never hurt you, I'm only about pleasure."

Jan blushed deeper. “I’ve never even been kissed before,” she admitted.

Her brows rose, "Never? You're too cute to have never been kissed."

Jan blushed. “I went to Catholic school my whole life. This year is the first year I’ve ever been away from home. And I just don’t like any of the boys here?” She blushed. “I’ve never liked a boy actually. Any boy.” She blushed deeper. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” But Jan did feel safe and comfortable around Rosé...

"You're in luck, baby, because this entire sorority is a bunch of lesbians," she cackled. "But I am glad you're opening up to me, I don't like to fuck anyone who I don't get to know at least a little bit."

Rosé gently tilted her head up to look at her again and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. She wanted to rectify the little issue of Jan never being kissed immediately. Her lips were soft and sweet and Rosé knew that kissing her would be blissful each and every time. She understood why Jan wasn't allowed to have any sort of sexual experience, but it was still a travesty in her eyes.

She loved that Jan was getting more comfortable around her, and more comfortable with intimacy in general, but she would still take it slower with her. At least until Jan asked for more, and not to be a little cocky, but Rosé knew that once they got into it, she would absolutely be begging for more.

"Tell me what you want, baby~"

Jan stared at her wide-eyed and innocent. “I don’t know what I want. Isn’t it a set ritual?”

"Right. Catholic," Rosé snickered. "And no, certainly not. The ritual is individualized. Here, let me show you."

She carefully pushed her back onto the plush bed, running her hands down her body. When she trailed them back up, she pushed her dress up with her. Leaning down over her, she pressed more kisses to her jaw and down her neck. She still took it slow, looking for any cues of hesitation, but found that Jan was giving her none thus far.

Jan wore simple white cotton panties under her dress. She certainly hadn’t expected for anyone to see them. But she didn’t feel shame, only curiosity about what Rosé was going to do to initiate her. Her nipples felt sensitive and she felt a heat in her lower belly. This was all so new and unexpected.

Rosé gave her another kiss, one that was deeper, this time pushing her tongue into her mouth with a little more force. Her fingers found their way between her legs, rubbing at her through her panties. Little by little she would bring Jan's arousal forth, making her soaking wet and fucking needy for her.

Jan gasped, knowing this was naughty, taboo and forbidden. Was she going to Hell for this? Absolutely. But Jan didn’t care. It felt so good. It didn’t take long at all for her to feel things she’d never felt before and didn’t fully understand, but she knew that she needed Rosé to keep going and give her more. “Please...” she whimpered. “Please.”

"You're so cute," Rosé chuckled against Jan's skin before she sucked on her neck. She kept rubbing at her, but now her fingers were against flesh and she could feel just how wet Jan was getting. With claws retracted, she pushed one of them inside the blushing girl beneath her. Slowly she'd prepare her, make sure she was fully worked open so she would have an amazing first experience.

Jan gasped as her fingers slid inside. She’d expected them to be sharp, as she’d seen her claws, but they weren’t. There were so many new good sensations going on Jan couldn’t process them all. She bared her neck, surrendering to the experience. Denali had told her to just let it happen and finally she knew what she meant. She whimpered. “Rosé! Please! I need more.”

"Well, someone's getting into it~ But that's okay, I love that you are." She slid another finger into her, fingering her faster and a little harder, maybe she'd make her come on her fingers first. Having a multiple orgasms never hurt anyone.

Jan gripped her furry shoulders. “Please! It feels so good!” Her hips rocked against the fingers inside her, eagerly chasing after her own pleasure. “I never knew it was this amazing.”

"You never got the chance to experience it," Rosé purred in her ear. She worked her deeper, faster, loving that she was chasing her own pleasure at this point. The poor girl deserved it. She also assumed that she had never touched herself so this was the first time she experienced any sort of pleasure like this.

Jan was losing her mind. Why had she be warned away from this for so long? Thank goodness she had great core muscles so she could rock herself onto Rosé’s fingers, because she was desperate for more at this point. “Rosé!!”

"Do you think you can handle a third finger, baby~?" she asked, wanting to be sure before she gave her more.

Jan nodded. “Please! I’ll take anything you give me.”

"Let's just keep it to my fingers for right now, babe." She did add a third one though, knowing that Jan really could take it. She was so wet and so needy, she was well aware Jan's body craved this so fucking badly and Rosé was going to be the one to give it to her.

Jan had never felt like this before. She clung to Rosé like her life depended on it. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the feeling.

Rosé could see that she had reached that intense climax. She fingerfucked her through it until her body slumped back down onto the pillows beneath her signaling that she was fully spent from her first orgasm. Rosé wasn't going to go right into the next one, instead she wanted Jan to come down from this one and relax for a moment. She has never had these sorts of experiences before, and Rosé did not want to overload her.

"Are you doing all right?"

It took Jan a second to regain control enough to nod. Her breathing was ragged, but she’d never felt better.

Rosé pulled her fingers out of her and licked them clean before wiping them off on the sheets. "I take it you enjoyed that~"

She nodded. “I never realized it was like that.”

"Well, now you know, love~"

Jan bit her lip. She wondered if that was it, her initiation complete. She kinda hoped there was more.

She stroked a furry shoulder tenderly. “I do... but I feel like there’s so much more I don’t know...”

"I'm not done with you yet, I just don't want it to be too much at once."

“I’m ready for more, even if I don’t know what that is. Please, Rosé. Will you show me?”

"I love how eager you are now," she murmured against her lips before kissing her. "I'll definitely show you."

Rosé sat up and pulled Jan's panties off. She unlaced he dress and let it fall off her so that she was completely naked beneath her. Gently, she caressed her skin, running her fingers between her breasts right down to her pelvis. Goddamn, she was so gorgeous, she could get lost just touching her, kissing her, so much so that she had to pull herself back down to earth for a second. She didn't want Jan to feel exposed though, and it was only fair that she get rid of her own clothing too. Her garment had a long, full body zipper making it easy to take it off.

Jan hadn’t realized how much of that was clothing as the devil was suddenly naked before her. Jan gently reached out and touched her, like Rosé had done to her. “You’re stunning...”

"Yeah~? Tell me something I don't know, babe." She laughed, "Thank you though, I'm glad you think so. You are too, absolutely fucking gorgeous. I can't wait to ravish you, to have you moaning and mewling underneath me."

Jan blushed, her thighs rubbing together shyly. “May I ask, is it true that if you don’t put it in... the front it doesn’t count?”

Rosé was so taken aback by that question, but didn't show it on her face. God, these poor humans really were fucked when it came to, well, fucking. She hated how taboo sex was in the mortal realm, all because of how virginity was basically worshipped in her adversary's religion. It irked her to no end, because most humans wanted to engage in sex and they deserved to have actual education on the subject so they can keep their sex lives fun and safe.

"That is absolutely false. Anal sex is sex, and it counts. That is just a stupid ploy perpetuated by stupid boys who want girls to sleep with them. It can be pleasurable when done correctly, but for your first time it will feel so much better right here," she said as she slid her fingers down between her legs.

Jan blushed. “Sorry it’s all just so new to me. But I trust you. And I want you.”

"You don't have to apologize, lovely." She kissed her again. "Also, tell me if anything gets too intense, okay. I don't want you to think you don't have a say in your own pleasure."

Jan nodded. “Thank you. Shall we get started?” She didn’t know how to do it but she trusted Rosé.

"Of course, love~ But I will warn you, my anatomy is not the same as yours, or any human's honestly. I mean, I can mimic it to be that way, but normally it's like this," she said, letting her tentadick come forth and rub against her.

Jan gasped. “Oh!” She hadn’t expected it to be able to stroke her on its own. Did men have that in their pants too?? She bit her lip. “Will I... will I get pregnant?”

"No, babe, I'll make sure of that. Magick and all. And to answer your other question, because I know you're thinking it, no men don't have this," she told her with a smug smirk. As if a man could live up to what she was about to give her.

Jan blushed. “You can read my mind?”

"No, not really, but I just knew you were thinking about that." She chuckled a little as she continued to tease Jan. Still rubbing at her, wanting her to be a whining, desperate mess before pushing inside.

"How much do you want this, baby?"

Jan blushed. “Oh.” She rocked her hips, loving how it felt at her entrance. “I want it so badly,” she purred. “I’ve never felt this good before.”

"That's my girl."

Rosé started to enter her inch by inch, making sure she was okay as she gave her shallow thrusts at first. She wanted to make sure Jan could take it before going deeper. Rosé could tell that Jan was already completely hers, and she couldn't help but to let that go to her ego, just a little bit.

"Goddamn you feel so good."

Jan scooted down so that Rosé could get deeper into her, so eager for it all. She felt... full but in the best way possible, loving the sensations of Rosé pushing inside her slowly. “Ohhh you do too!”

Rosé's movements started to quicken, and she gave it to her somewhat rougher, still being careful of the fact that this was her first time. Of course, Jan was doing nothing but moaning her head off and Rosé took that as a sign to keep going, increasing her pace little by little. "I've heard you're quite the vocalist~ Let's see how loud I can make you sing."

Jan wasn’t ashamed of the sounds she made, didn’t even know that was a thing most people would be ashamed of. As an athlete and a singer, Jan had excellent lung capacity and vocal abilities. “You want me to sing for you?” She asked breathily, so caught up in the pleasure of it all.

"I mean, I'm going to make you sing regardless."

Rosé grabbed her hips and started to fuck her hard now that she was worked open and oh so willing to take it all. Watching Jan's eyelids flutter closed, her mouth open with such sweet sounds coming from it, along with her nice tits bouncing with each thrust made Rosé love this even more. She wasn't sure what to expect with Jan being so closed off from sex, and so innocent at first, but now? Now, she was sure she'd end up like Denali and Mik.

Jan raised her hips up to meet Rosé’s thrusts, gripping the blankets as she moaned loudly, trying to sing for Rosé just like she wanted, enjoying every second of it all. Jan vaguely wondered if her sisters above could hear her singing out for the demon.

Rosé reached between her legs and started to rub at her, "I want you to cum for me, baby. I want you to cum fucking hard.”

Jan whimpered. She was close but she wanted more. Jan chased Rosé’s touch, crying out loudly as she squirted.

Rosé grabbed her hips and fucked her through it, groaning as she chased her pleasure this time. She'd make her cum again, she'd make her cum three, four times before the night was through at this rate. She knew she was overly sensitive now and it would be so easy to destroy her completely.

Jan gripped her shoulders, clinging to her, desperate for more. She wouldn’t mind if the Devil turned her over and switched so she could take her from behind. Honestly, she wouldn’t mind whatever Rosé wanted to do to her. She was so utterly hers.

Rosé leaned down and murmured in her ear, "Do you want more, baby~?"

“So much more,” Jan panted. She was energized and greedy for more. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

Rosé knew that all the other girls loved it when she turned them over and fucked their brains out, and so she'd do the same for the cute little Catholic girl who just lost her virginity to the Devil herself. That in and of itself was hot as fuck. She pulled out and flipped her over before sliding back in all the way to the hilt.

"Fuck~" Rosé moaned.

Her lips found her neck, kissing the warm skin and giving Jan a little love bite there, just something to remember her by after the fact. She kissed down her shoulder blade and took in all her cute sounds she was making at all the touches and kisses. Rosé sat back up, grabbed her hips and continued to ruin her, able to fuck her even deeper now.

"Fucking take it, take everything I give you. I know you love it, you little slut~”

Jan moaned her pretty little head off, absolutely loving this new position. “Give me everything, please! I’m yours! I’m your little slut!”

"Damn right you are, you and all your sisters love my big cock inside your tight little cunts," she cackled, giving Jan a spank. "Did those uptight nuns ever spank your cute ass with their rulers?"

Jan blushed. “No, I was a good girl.”

"I'm not even surprised by that, you've been such a good girl for me too~"

“I wanna be the best,” she admitted.

"The competitive type then, I take it?" Rosé chuckled.

“I played soccer for years,” she confirmed. “I always like to win. I have to be the best.”

Rosé couldn't help but to snicker a little, oh playing on her competitive nature would be fun. But perhaps another time, for now she just wanted her to feel good and cum as many times before she was completely exhausted.

Jan had to wonder if Denali had been like this too, as her sister was just as competitive as she was. But she didn’t really want to think about her right now when she had this lovely devil absolutely destroying her in the best way.

“Harder, please!”

She grabbed the back of Jan's neck and shoved her face into the pillows as she fucked even harder, not holding back. She knew at this point Jan wanted every single thing she had to give and that she could take it. It was cute how Jan went from blushing virgin who had never even been kissed to a moaning little slut wanting the devil's cock to destroy her pussy. It was a wonderful turn of events.

Jan didn’t stop to think about anything but the pleasure of the moment. She’d never realized sex could be like this. Why had she been denied this for so long? She didn’t want to give this up.

“Are you only around for initiations?” she inquired.

Rosé snickered, "No, baby, I can fuck you whenever you want~ Well, as long as someone else doesn't have me already."

Jan pouted. She definitely needed to be the best now. She pushed herself back into Rosé thrusts, trying to get her as deep as possible. “But I need you,” she moaned.

Rosé knew damn well that little quip would bring out her competitive nature. She had to wonder if Jan and Denali would try to compete for her tentadick, that would be amusing to say the least. "Don't worry, baby, if you really think that I can't satisfy you and all your sorority sisters, then you don't know me at all."

“Oh I have no doubts you can satisfy me. Or anyone lucky enough to share your bed.” Jan just wanted it to be her all the time.

"Is someone feeling a little selfish? A little envious~? A little lustful?" she purred in her ear. "That's cute~ Give in to all those feelings, baby."

Jan knew this was a sin... many sins actually, but she didn’t care. She needed Rosé to want her as badly as she wanted her. “Yes. I want you so badly. I don’t want to have to give you up. I wanna keep going as long as I physically can.”

"I can go all night, darling, and you know I will give in to any temptation~" Rosé purred. And she would, she'd give it to her as long as she could stand it, but she knew that Jan was getting to the point of exhaustion just by the energy that vibrated around her.

Jan kept giving it her all, trying to impress the demon with how much she could get it, but she was definitely tired. She’d cum... five times? six? She’d lost count. But she wanted to be the one the demon came to. This was the demon she’d cling to. She’d made her choice. “Rosé!” she cried out.

Rosé had held off long enough and she was full on animalistic, and she grabbed Jan's hips and fucked her hard until she came just as hard inside her. She fucked her through her orgasm until she was completely spent. "Fuck... goddamn that sweet cunt of yours was amazing."

Jan panted, utterly spent. She’d cum so hard when the demon did that she barely registered the words and could only moan in affirmation. She reached for Rosé, for her hand, for some kind of affirmation that she’d done well.

Rosé pressed a kiss to the back of her head and murmured in her ear, "You were wonderful, babe~"

Jan attempted to turn around but she couldn’t quite manage. She just wanted to face the demon and be held by her for a bit.

She pulled out of her and laid down beside her, pulling her close and giving her a kiss on the forehead. Despite who she was, she sure as fuck wasn't going to leave a girl alone with no aftercare. After all, she was a hedonist, she wasn't evil.

Jan snuggled closer, kissing the crook of Rosé’s neck where she’d curled into. She needed the closeness.

"You doing okay babe?"

Jan nodded. “I just need you to hold me for a bit...”

"Of course, lovely. I'm not just going to leave you."

Jan smiled. “That was...” she didn’t quite have the words for it but she offered a soft smile. It was incredible, pleasurable, and so much more than Jan had ever expected it to be. She hadn’t anticipated losing her virginity to a demon... but that was something she’d have to come to terms with later. Right now she just wanted to cuddle.

"Mmm, just rest, baby." Rosé kissed her forehead and trailed her fingers through her hair. She knew this was a lot for the girl, the sexually repressed Catholic virgin at that. Rosé didn't see it as a ruining, she saw it as an awakening. She always thought it was unfortunate that so many women don't have amazing sex, that they settle for mediocre, or even bad sex, that they don't know how to ask for it, or to pleasure themselves. She also hated the fact that so many women didn't get the aftercare they needed after intense sex, but that is exactly why she wanted to open the eyes of these women.

Jan drifted off, feeling safe and cherished in the arms of the demon.

Rosé pressed another kiss to her forehead, letting her rest against her, knowing that she was exhausted after that rigorous session. She was glad that Jan got to experience this, and that she enjoyed it as much as she did. She also couldn't help but to be a little smug about being Jan's first...

Upstairs they got the signal that Jan’s initiation was complete. Denali went with Jackie to go fetch Jan and tuck her in. They took her upstairs and got her into her bed.

Denali climbed in with her and held her close. “I’ll stay with her, Jackie.” Denali couldn’t wait to hear all about Jan’s first time, especially since they’d heard her singing. The story was bound to be good.

#cwmonsterfucking #saint writes #sinner writes #sinner writes prompts #chrosé #chjan #shrosejan #long post

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jkl-fff · 4 years ago

Note

Dipper and Norman, #50

Thanks for the prompt!

Comedy Golem

It was a rest stop like any other in the Northeast. Just a gas station with some picnic tables, surrounded by deciduous woodlands. But the car pulled into it all the same. Two young men—partners in work, partners in life, and partners not infrequently in actions of questionable legality (although “crime” was such a strong word)—then set themselves up at one of the picnic tables, producing sodas and sandwiches from a cooler.

Laying out a map of the Northeast, Dipper gestured towards a sizeable splotch of green in upper Pennsylvania. It was labeled “Alleghany National Forest”, its shape vaguely reminded Norman of an elephant’s head (with an upraised trunk), and it was clearly the epicenter of a wide swath of red post-its marked with names and some rather recent dates. “As you can see, we’ve got its—his? her? their? whatever—probable location pretty well pinned down.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Norman replied around a bite of sandwich. His tone was deadpan, as it usually was (perhaps an occupational hazard of being a Medium … or of spending most of his time around the Pines family and their own special brand of insanity). “Practically pinpoint accuracy, in fact. Only … 1000 square miles of untamed woodlands for us to search.”

“Pff! Untamed,” Dipper scoffed with the kind of elitist scorn only heard from people who hail from west of the Rockies whenever the subject of Appalachia’s wilderness is broached. “Right. Which means we might get as low as three bars during our investigation. How perilous. Besides, it’s barely even 800 square miles—I checked.”

“Of course you did.”

“But, nah, I think I’ve actually narrowed down the location even further. To riiiiiight … here.”

Norman craned his neck to read the spot his friend tapped (after lifting aside the veritable blanket of red post-its covering it, as it was the center of the epicenter). “… Squirrely Stars Campground. Huh. That why they call this thing ‘the Squirrel Hill Golem’?”

“Nah, that’s because the first sighting was in a neighborhood of Pittsburgh called Squirrel Hill.”

“… You’re yanking my chain. You’ve gotta be.”

“Nope.” Dipper gestured to that segment of the map. “Read it and gape in bewilderment. But, considering Pittsburgh has a massive Jewish population and that’s one of its major sectors, sorta makes sense a Golem would first come outta there. My research suggests it was a Rabbi named Mahara Chelmman who made it back in 1997 (although she wasn’t a Rabbi at the time she made the Golem), but that’s not 100% verified; could’ve been two other people.”

Norman considered that, and it all sounded reasonable enough. For a given value of reasonable, at any rate, since he was dealing with a Pines here. A very negotiable given value of reasonable. “… So did the Golem run off from Pittsburgh a la f-Frankenstein’s Monster upon being rejected by its … Um. How ‘bout we just use a Third-Person, Singular ‘they’ for now?”

“Works for me.”

“Okay. Yada-yada, Frankenstein’s Monster rejected by their creator?”

That got a shrug in response. “Hard to say. Most accounts suggest everyone was cool with them. They might’ve just, like, decided they wanted to live their own life? It was the 90s …”

“So they ran off into the woods of Northern Pennsylvania for the next … twenty-ish years. Sure. Why not? Lots of mud out here—Golems do need m-mud, right?”

“It helps. Makes it easier for them to, like, heal or regenerate and such. Anyway, I’m thinking you will infiltrate the camp and blend in there—”

“Squirrely Stars,” Norman couldn’t help but smirk at the dumb name.

“—to find out what the people there know, maybe interview some Ghosts, too, if there are any. It’s where the highest concentration of sightings are clustered, so someone’s gotta be able to give us something workable.”

Norman nodded his assent. “Makes sense. I’m g-generally better at talking to people—”

“Right? Those were my thoughts exactly!” Dipper hastened to agree.

“—and not like you can communicate with Ghosts 97% of the time, anyway. What about you, though? If I’m doing the people-work at camp, what’re you gonna be doing?”

“Trek around the area out a ways from the camp. See what traces of the Golem I can forestry up. Footprints, magical energies, that sorta thing. Leg-work while you do the people-work. Also makes sense, right, since I’m better at that kinda stuff anyway?” Dipper asked. In a tone of voice that was … almost leading.

Which instantly made Norman a bit suspicious. But there wasn’t anything in that assessment either of them could disagree with, so he had to concede, “… I suppose you’re better at all the, um, stuff out in the woods—”

“Great!” Dipper was already halfway back to the car. “Let’s get moving! I’ll drop you off there.”

***TWO HOURS LATER*** PARKED OUTSIDE THE ENTRANCE TO A DIRT ROAD BENEATH A SIGN READING “SQUIRRELY STARS CAMPGROUND WARNING: NATURIST PROPERTY”

“Okay, but WHY do I have to be NAKED?!” Norman shrilled at the young man he had, until roughly five seconds ago, thought would always be his partner in life. Whereas now he was thinking that young man was about to be his former partner in life. Because he might kill him. Just straight-up murder him with a hefty tree branch or a sharp rock or maybe his bare hands.

Being a Medium meant their relationship wouldn’t have to end at death, true, but you couldn’t exactly call someone your “life partner” if they were dead. Especially if because you killed them by repeatedly smacking their face into the steering wheel or hurling them right into the sun or strangling them with their own seatbelt. That tended to sour most relationships.

“Look, I realize—”

“WHY does ANYONE have to be NAKED?!”

“Because it’s a nudist colony. Or … Well, maybe ‘nudist resort’ is more accurate?” Dipper mused aloud to himself. “Meh. Either way, ‘cause that’s the no-dress code here.”

“But WHY do I have to be NAKED?!”

“How else are you gonna infiltrate and then blend in at a nudist colony and/or resort? C’mon, man, you gotta think logically about this.”

“Yeah, but … WHY does ANYONE who is ME have to be NAKED?!”

“They prob’ly won’t talk to you if you’re not,” Dipper explained, his manner reasonable enough. For a given value of reasonable, at any rate. A very negotiable given value of reasonable. “Like, you’d make them uncomfortable .”

“Oh, well, I c-certainly wouldn’t want them to be uncomfortable!” Norman retorted witheringly.

“It won’t be for long. Just long enough to, y’know, fit in a little and scrounge some info.”

“Never worried about fitting in before,” Norman grumbled. “Don’t see why I should start now. Anyway, if this’s so easy, why aren’t y-you doing it?”

“You said it yourself: You’re better at talking to people, I’m better at ‘all the stuff in the woods’.” And Dipper couldn’t keep a grin from spreading across his face as he quoted him.

“… I hate you soo much right now.”

Dipper shrugged. “That’s fair. But, seriously though, it’s safer this way, too, ‘cause I’m Jewish.”

Norman blinked. Then he blinked again. “… What?”

“I’m Jewish, so the Golem won’t try to hurt me if they’re acting, like, confrontational.”

Norman shook his head. “Okay, no, I’m calling bullshit on that.”

“Dude, you know I’m Jew—”

“No, yes, I know you’re Jewish,” Norman snapped impatiently. “I mean I’m calling b-bullshit on that being some sorta, like, pseudo-mystical-religious-ethnic protection from Golems.”

“Golems exist to protect Jewish people,” Dipper countered, a little condescendingly. “They, like, physically can’t hurt us. Everybody knows that—it’s the first thing you learn about Golems.”

“Even assuming that’s true—and I don’t assume it, in fact, I contest it—how in the 79 Hells’re you supposed, like, to prove your Jewishness (especially to a vaguely humanoid shape made outta mud)? You gotta yarmulke on under that stupid cap of yours I don’t know about?”

“First of all: screw you, my cap is iconic.” Dipper even took a moment to admire his reflection in the rearview mirror, straightened his cap ever so slightly, and made fingerguns at himself. “Second of all: I’ll just say a birkhot or something. Ooo! Maybe even one of the secret ones from the Kabballah! Though a regular one’d prob’ly work fine.”

“Oh, please, I c-could do that. Doesn’t prove anyth—”

“No, you could not. You don’t even know what a birkhot is.”

“It’s like … a prayer and magic incantation rolled into one,” Norman replied (albeit hesitantly).

“Pff! No, that’s not what a bir—”

“In fact, I’m 100% certain I’ve heard you describe birkhots exactly that way,” Norman asserted, not hesitant any longer. “Same way you d-describe the other (and I quote) ‘sorta pseudo-mystical-religious-ethnic spells and incantations and stuff’ you’ve got memorized in pre-Catholic Latin and Ancient Greek and Old Nordic for whenever we gotta deal with a … y’know, with a demon-adjacent, supernatural entity.”

Dipper considered that a moment. Then he admitted, “Okay, maybe yeah, that does sound like something I’d say. But the point—”

“HA! Vindication!” And Norman pounded the dashboard in triumph.

“But the point is, I can recite ‘בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הַעוֹלָם, דָיַן הַאֱמֶת׃’ at the drop of a hat—wait! the drop of a freakin’ kippah—with all the additional, apotropaic hand signs … Whereas you can’t even do a basic exorcism or protective spell in any language.”

Norman crossed his arms and sulkily looked out the passenger window. “Well, s-some of us just t-talk to the spirits and such. Like a n-normal, polite person … w-works just fine … ” Eventually, he huffed, “Why in the 79 Hells is a Golem even hanging around a n-nudist colony?!”

“A resort, I think.”

“I will murder you,” Norman stated, as if making a solemn vow. “With … an ice cream scoop.”

“Heh! Love you, too. Soo … does that mean you’ll do it?”

“You haven’t even answered my question.”

“Honestly? No clue. I just kinda assumed the Golem turned out to be, like, a pervert? But maybe they feel more at home among other people who aren’t wearing clothes? But, anyway, will you? … C’mon, Normy-warmy,” Dipper wheedled, his voice taking on a cutesy, coaxing, pleadingly singsong tone. “Pleeeease, Normy-warmy?”

“… That is ch-cheating, and you know it.”

“Pleeeease help me with this Monster Hunt? You just gotta talk to some people (and/or Ghosts). It won’t even take that long. Heck, if the people in there are anything like me, once they see you naked, their brains’ll stop working due to awestruck amazement—”

Norman grumbled, “S-soo much cheating.”

“—and they’ll be soo mesmerized by your sexy body (and beautiful smile)—”

“Why am I dating such an honorless cheater?” But, despite his protests, Norman was blushing.

“—that they’ll be compelled to do whatever you want for, like, the rest of their lives. It’ll be quick and easy. I promise.”

Feebly, Norman made one final attempt. “…But I sunburn so easy—”

Dipper reached over to open the glove compartment. Inside was a bottle of SPF100 sunscreen.

“… Fffffine. But you owe me big.”

“Deal!”

“I’m talking, like, a solid w-week of pampering.”

“Deal!”

“Romantic dates. Fancy cooking. Back rubs on demand—”

“Deal!” And Dipper punctuated that with a kiss to Norman’s cheek. “Now strip! Oh, but you can leave your shoes and socks on (the nudists aren’t idiots, even if they are sorta nuts). And, also, they usually use backpacks for holding onto all their stuff. What with not having pockets.”

Pulling off his shirt, Norman sighed. “Why do I keep letting you talk me into stuff like this?”

#parapines #gravity falls #paranorman #dipper pines #norman babcock #dipper #norman #jewish #writing prompt #writing #magic #golem #comedy #humor #linguistics #language #folklore #arneyblay2

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vangoghmusings · 4 years ago

Text

noise complaint- self ship

pairing: kuroo x pat

warnings: alcohol, smoking, party culture, sexual assault ptsd

word count: 2589

a/n: HNGKNSFKLS THIS IS LAME BUT i just wanted to imagine patsuro in my current college setting :’)) this is self indulgent and kinda comfort fluff?? and yes i’m aware i seem like a bitch i tried to be as honest about how i act in irl,, otherwise enjoy...

Patricia hummed and shut her eyes happily as the sun hit her face. She swung her keys attached to her lanyard as she made her way to her campus apartment. As a sophomore in college, she was honestly surprised she even made it past one year. Her strength was in street smarts rather than book smarts, yet here she was. She waved to a few familiar faces as she walked through the campus and made her way into her dorm building. She was beyond ecstatic for this school year, living with her best friends and delving further into her major.

She stopped at her door, covered in decorations she had made with her roommates. She smiled softly, a sense of hope for the school year filling her.

That hope quickly faded as she heard a familiar voice while she attempted to open the door to her apartment.

“Patricia!”

She looked over to see a tall messy haired boy walking towards her. She sighed and turned to him, leaning against her locked door.

“Kuroo.”

He rolled his eyes and stopped in front of her.

“Why do you only call me by my last name?”

“Because I can’t just give you the satisfaction of letting you hear me say your real name, can I?”

He sighed and looked down at her as she lazily crossed her arms over her chest.

“How was your summer?”

“Fine, I worked a lot.”

“The garden center, right?”

“Mhm.”

Kuroo nodded and looked down at his feet. He was aware Patricia wasn’t fond of him. Frankly she couldn’t help it. He didn’t know but she was terrified of men. Previous trauma had developed into PTSD which manifested into a constant state of anger towards any man that came her way. It wasn’t healthy or right but it's how it was. However, Kuroo saw this as flat out hatred rather than a deep-rooted fear.

“Well,” He said before clearing his throat. “I just wanted to let you know I’m your floor RA this year.”

Patricia nodded slowly and gave him a soft smile.

“Cool, I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”

“Thanks, but you should be aware I’ll be strict about underage drinking and-”

Patricia gasped and placed her hand on her chest in mock offense.

“Me? Drinking? Oh Kuroo, I’m not that kind of girl.”

Kuroo raised a brow and gave her a doubtful look.

“Still playing the good Catholic school girl act?”

Patricia chuckled and hummed looking down at her feet and back up at Kuroo.

“This is a Catholic university, I’m a girl, and I’m literally majoring in Theology. I don’t know if that’s an act. I’m as much of a goodie two shoes as you are Kuroo.”

“I highly doubt-”

“And besides,” She said with a snide grin, “if we don’t sin a little, then Jesus died for nothing right?”

Kuroo scoffed and before he could form a sentence to combat her ridiculous statement, she unlocked her door and gave him a wave.

“Don’t worry Kuroo, just because I own a key to the campus sacristy, doesn’t mean I’ll steal the holy wine.”

He gaped as she slid into her apartment, giving him a teasing wink, and hearing the door lock.

That following Friday, Patricia found herself trapped in the same hallway.

“Gretchen is DDing right?” She asked her roommate while adjusting her mini backpack.

“Yup!” Her roommate, Dashi chirped while texting. Patricia grinned and turned to lock the door when she heard a familiar ‘tsk’. She sighed and looked to see Kuroo dressed down in gray sweatpants and a t-shirt. He looked oddly good, or was it her Friday night hunger?

“Kuroo!” She sang and gave him a big grin.

“Patricia, Dashi,” He said, giving a nod at each girl. He paused slightly, looking Patricia up and down. She was usually caught wearing leggings and baggy t-shirts with hiking sandals, but tonight, she wore jeans, heels, and a black body suit that was probably more low-cut than it should’ve been. She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers in his face.

“Kuroo, you pervert. What do you want?” She glared up at him, propping her hand on her waist.

He blinked, his face flush with embarrassment.

“You look nice.”

Patricia nodded and gave him a tart smile.

“Thanks. Did you need something?”

Dashi watched, her eyes peering away from her phone screen. It was painful to watch. Patricia was usually quite good at reading people, however the image of the flustered boy in front of her didn’t seem to connect the dots of attraction in her mind.

“Just, be safe tonight okay?”

She rolled her eyes a began to walk out the door, Dashi at her side.

“Will do,” She cooed while giving him a mocking salute while walking backwards and turning on her heel as she got to the door.

Kuroo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. She was just so fake. A doe-eyed attentive student in class, participating and kissing ass for professors, working for campus ministry, running the prayer nights, leading religious retreats, and going to church on Sundays. Yet now she was out and ready to do God knows what. She was a sly liar, and she loved every minute of being a complete enigma.

Dashi and Patricia reached the apartment, a dorm complex nicknamed the Hive by students. It was where the buzz happened while everyone got buzzed. Patricia grinned at the feeling of the floor vibrating and the air smelling like sweat and weed. The messy sensation always managed to bring her joy. They shuffled inside, the apartment packed with drunken and high college students. Patricia inhaled the hot air deeply and scanned the living room for a familiar face.

There sat one of her roommates Mix on their boyfriend's lap, rolling a join with nimble fingers as he softly kissed their neck. She chuckled, those two were attached at the hip. She pointed them out to Dashi and they made their way over.

“Mix!” Patricia sang and gave her roommate a wave.

“Pat Pat!” They gasped and stumbled getting up. Ushijima, their boyfriend set his hands on their hips to help them regain balance. They giggled, their usual stone demeanor diminished under the ruse of weed and alcohol. “Here!! You need to catch up,” They said, licking the joint to seal it and then handing It over to her.

“Aw thanks Mix!” Patricia gave a thankful smile as Ushijima handed her the lighter that he managed to tuck behind his ear. She lit the joint and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fall from her nose slowly. Mix clapped happily as she chuckled and handed the joint to Dashi.

“Tay is in the kitchen by the way,” Ushijima said softly. Patricia nodded and gave the couple each a pat on the head before sneaking into the kitchen, the idea of a cup of WOP calling her name. She smiled seeing Tay who was talking to a boy who she recognized from her ceramics class as Touya.

“Taaaay,” She sang before giving her roommate a hug. Tay laughed and hugged back.

“Hey love!” Tay smiled, a dreamy expression on her face, either from alcohol or talking to the very attractive boy. Patricia giggled and gave her a nod of approval before going to pour herself a cup of whatever the hell was in the WOP tonight. She knew she needed to catch up, deciding to down the cup, despite the burn in her throat.

“Shit,” she mumbled before refilling the cup. She took a few leisurely sips before returning to the smoking sesh with Mix and Ushijima, Dashi had disappeared onto the dance floor and appeared to be grinding on a very flustered yellow haired boy. Patricia picked up the still hot joint and brought it to her lips, taking a slow drag before looking over at Mix, who seemed to be whispering in Ushijima’s ear, his face a deep crimson at every word they spoke. Patricia giggled and took another sip, the joint tucked between her index and middle finger as she held the cup. She was buzzed, giggly and light, but nothing major. The struggles of a high alcohol tolerance.

“AYO QUIET!”

The shout was heard over the hum of the party, and the music quickly died. There was a knock on the door.

“RA on call! We got a noise complaint.”

Patricia blinked and sighed. The other party goers where shuffling around to hide and scattering in different directions. Too irritated to care, she went to open the door, knowing that if they made the RA wait any longer that campus police would show up. She opened the door and if her frown couldn’t get any bigger, it did.

There stood Kuroo with his RA fanny-pack sitting across his chest. He seemed to have matching smile, that only grew into shock as he watched Patricia take sip of her drink while continuing to make eye contact with him.

“We got a noise complaint?” She asked, her half-lidded eyes a shade of pink.

Kuroo narrowed his own eyes and stepped inside.

“You know I have to report this as illegal activity.”

She sighed and nodded, taking the cup in her other hand and taking a puff from the joint, blowing it gently in Kuroo’s face. He winced at the smell and she smiled softly.

“Yeah, I know.”

He scoffed and glared at her as she set the items down, stepping out into the hallways and closing the door behind her.

“Theres a lot of people in there. Just mark me down, ok? I don’t want you to have the reputation of the hated RA.”

He tilted his face at the oddly considerate offer but proceeded to shake his head.

“I can’t do that, that’s against the rules.”

Patricia gave and exasperated sigh and leaned against the wall of the hallway, the dim yellow lights exposing her red cheeks and red eyes.

“I’m just trying to help you out, Tetsuro.”

He blinked.

“You said my first name.”

“It's a means of persuasion,” she replied before reaching up to push her hair out of her face. “C’mon,” She said while beginning to walk down the hall. “Let's go back home so you can rest, and I can watch Netflix.”

Kuroo watched as she swayed slightly as she walked and huffed, walking beside her. As by instinct, he reached to take her hand as a means of balancing her, but she quickly swatted it away, fear plastered on her face.

“W-What are you doing?” She asked, holding her hand close to her chest, her eyes full of uncertainty.

“I-I-, you we’re swaying a lot and I didn’t want you to fall over.”

Patricia eyed him, rubbing her hands together anxiously.

“Thats it? Swear you won’t pull anything?”

Kuroo frowned, offended by her accusation.

“Do you think I’m that kind of person?”

She looked down at her hands, tears welling in her eyes.

“Aren’t all boys like that?”

Kuroo looked down stunned, at first from offence, but then by the fact that the usually relaxed and cheerful Patricia looked like she had seen a ghost. He quickly connected the dots and nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry...but I can assure you I’m not like that.”

She looked up at him, tears ready to spill. Kuroo bit his lip in hesitation, but slowly reached up to gingerly wipe her tears away with his thumbs.

“I promise,” He whispered.

Patricia stared at him with wide glassy eyes, searching his face for any sort of evidence that he was lying. When she couldn’t find any, she dove into his chest, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you,” she cried softly into his chest, his shirt getting wet from her tears. He hushed her gently and hugged back, rubbing her back gently. As soon as she was able to catch her breath, Patricia focused on the feeling of Kuroo’s large hands rubbing her back sweetly. There was no sense of malice or any sign that he would hurt her. So, she relished in the newfound sense of safety.

She sniffled and looked up at him, pulling away quickly.

“Sorry,” she croaked out while weakly gesturing to the tear stain on his chest.

He shrugged, “It's just salt water. Let's get you some water and sober you up okay?”

Patricia nodded and looked down, pouting slightly like a small child, still swaying with each step. Kuroo chuckled and once again reached for her hand as she walked. Except this time, she didn’t pull away.

Once they reached the dorm hall, Kuroo looked down at Patricia, who seemed to have calmed down.

“Is it cool if we go to my apartment. I’ve got bottled water and double stuffed Oreos.”

“Those are my favorite,” She said with a sniffle.

Kuroo chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah I know, you put them on your resident introduction sheet.”

She nodded, remembering the form she filled out before moving into her new residence hall.

They reached Kuroo’s door and walked inside. Patricia looked around and the surprisingly clean apartment.

“Here,” he said, bringing her back to earth, “Water.”

She nodded and took the bottle, chugging it down quickly. A dribble of water rand down her chin and down her chest, causing Kuroo to look away flushed. She furrowed her eyes at him and lazily wiped her lips.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Kuroo mumbled, looking away in embarrassment. Patricia rolled her eyes and jumped to sit up on his countertop.

“Have you ever done anything with a girl Kuroo?”

Kuroo blinked and looked down at his feet, his usual prideful demeanor gone.

“Not really. Just like making out and stuff.”

“So, you’re a virgin?” She asked him, tilting her head in curiosity. Her eyes were no longer noticeably puffy and her face was much less red as before.

“I mean...I guess.”

Patricia nodded slowly, eyeing Kuroo up and down as if she was analyzing every little thing about him. He was undeniably handsome. She was almost upset it took her a small break down to realize how truly caring he seemed. Just because he was a figure of authority shouldn’t have equated a dislike for him. She eyed his soft pink lips and smiled slightly. He really was pretty.

“Do you want to kiss Tetsuro?”

Kuroo looked up at her, sincerity in her face. There was something about the way she said his name that just felt like pure velvet.

“I-, are you sure?”

She nodded and gave him a soft smile.

“Yeah, plus I want to kiss you.”

Kuroo nodded slowly and stepped in between Patricia’s knees which hung off the counter.

“May I?” He asked quietly, his hands hovering above her thighs. She giggled softly and nodded. Kuroo placed his large hands on her thighs and she smiled looking down at him and back up at his face. He loomed over her.

“You’re tall,” She hummed in a whisper.

Slowly, she brought her hand up to the collar of his shirt and tugged him down to her level gently. She gaped her mouth open, Kuroo’s lips grazing hers in anticipation. Patricia smiled before closing her eyes and leaning into Kuroo, their lips molding together. The kisses started out subtle, but soon turned heated and Patricia wound up with her hands against his chest, biting down gently on his bottom lip. She pulled away with a slight tug and let go, her eyes opening to look at Kuroo’s bright pink face. She giggled and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek.

“Thank you for the water.”

#HNGG THIS IS LAME #DONT CLOWN ME #patsuro 🥺#kuroo x oc #kuroo x patricia #kuroo tetsurou

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heli0s-writes · 5 years ago

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I. Soulmate Series and Peculiar Pairs

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes Summary: An introduction to the mystery of soulmates and love. You’re just another person lost in the world, trying to find yours.. until you give up. You meet some Avengers on the way. A/N: Part 1 of Mystery of Love.

The world had a very singular definition of soulmates: Two people, entwined by fate, perfectly right for each other, destined to meet and exist as one. The cosmos willed this. God willed it. The universe willed it. Whatever anyone’s religious or personal beliefs may be- there was a reply.

Children were told stories of their parents’ meeting and The Words they said to each other that sealed their future. These prophesized utterances would form onto their skin and scratch itself onto a special place in a script unique to that person’s handwriting. The lore of The Words were in every fairy tale and film. No wonder it had always been your dream to meet yours.

Your own parents met in Kindergarten, when your mother moved from Jersey to Manhattan because her father had been transferred to a higher position. He was hesitant at first, to leave their small city and large family behind, but changed his mind in early spring. The first day she set foot in her classroom, as she’d tell you over and over again, she was seated next to a chubby, freckled boy who shook her hand. With a firm grip, he yelled “Hello, beautiful!” and before she could respond, she had doubled over to scream.

When the teacher rushed over and your mother finally stopped crying, she’d lifted her paisley cotton shirt to see the askew “hEllo BEaUtiFul” letters circling her belly button. She pointed a finger to your father, blubbering uncontrollably, and yelled, “It’s you! You’re my soulmate!” and then it became his turn to double over.

The teacher called both their mothers and their mothers had taken them out of school for the rest of the day. They spent it in each other’s company, learning each other’s names, playing, eating ice-cream, and then took a nap, pinkies touching. They were inseparable ever since.

At age 4, it was your favorite story, and you wanted to hear it every night before bed. Your parents were the essence of perfection: your mother’s hair was always impeccable, your father’s shirt was always pressed, and they always kissed at the door when he’d leave for work.

At age 6, you began to wonder about your own soulmate. “Does it hurt very bad, mama?” “Why haven’t I met him yet?” “What if he’s mean to me?” “What if he moves away, mama?”

Your mother always assured you that it was meant to be. You were designed to be loved. The universe would never, ever, leave anyone out. Soulmates were destiny, and destiny was final. You were pleased with the answers she provided, and happy to hear them every time she reminded you.

At age 8, you’d forgotten all about soulmates. Boys were meant to be chased away on the playground, wrestled with in the grass, beaten in a game of soccer. Girls were your confidants, your sisters, who’d braid your hair and dance with you through the living room. Soulmates were for adults, and more than that, you were afraid of the pain of someone’s Words carving into your skin. There were rumors of 5th graders who found their soulmate in the fall, but they were big kids and you put off thinking about it for many years and stopped asking questions.

At age 14, it was no longer something you could ignore. Many girls were going through changes, some had looked like they were already finished, while you had barely started. Boys changed too. Everyone began to notice each other. And you began to notice yourself in this extant space. High school was extremely daunting, and on your first day, you promised yourself that you’d find your soulmate in this large campus.

Some juniors who had soulmates were already married with their parents’ eager approval. There was a club dedicated to meeting as many students in the school as possible to find your soulmate. On Thursday mornings they held “speed-meeting” sessions where one side held a notecard that said, “You are mine” and the other side, “I am yours” there were many variations that were available such as, “You are the light of my life” or “I’ll love you forever”.

You tried many times, afraid that if your soulmate was a senior and they graduated this year, you’d have to wait forever to meet them. After December, it was taking a toll on your heart. All of those sessions of sitting down and staring into the eyes of new started out exciting, but slowly turned banal and drove you into melancholy. Being bound to one person was supposed to be magical, but the recurring meetings felt disingenuous. You didn’t want to meet your soulmate in a sterilized setting, reading a notecard of words that were not from your heart.

Around winter vacation, you were so despondent and anxious that it began to manifest in severe and constant stomach pains. Your parents began to discuss the possibility of counseling. You refused them, afraid that you’d be labelled as a lovelorn freak for the rest of your life. They did relent, and instead gave you a very nice digital camera for Christmas, hoping it could be a hobby to distract you from your worries. Your very first picture was of your parents under the Christmas tree. Your second picture was of their Words, side by side. It took five months for your spasms to ease.

In your later teens, you began to branch out in earnest to find that person. You had worked as a hostess during senior year to maximize your chance of meeting someone, and even landed a barista job at one of the busiest cafés in Manhattan your freshman year of college at a small conservative university. You joined a sorority and lost count of all the events you’d attend and all the fraternity boys you’d met during that year. It was too much, in the end, you were focused on your studies and couldn’t stand another year in that tiny white picket-fence house always reeking of hairspray and Victoria Secret body mist.

You continued taking photographs and enrolled in art classes the following year. You had won a small scholarship and the funds went into a new professional camera. Mid-sophomore year, you quit your job at the café and began to take pictures for the University’s paper, penning food and entertainment columns here and there, primarily about your local college town. You submitted in group exhibitions and struggled to balance classes, a job, and your own inquiries of love. Most of your friends had met their soulmates, and when your roommate came home breathless, freshly inked in beautiful cursive script, and screamed, “It’s a girl!!”, you broke down.

You had never thought of the possibility of being with a woman. But what if the universe decided that it was? Could you love a woman, like that? You spent the rest of the weekend curled up in bed, ill with stomachaches, questioning everything you knew about yourself and your capacity to love.

You called home to ask your mother, “What if my soulmate is a woman?” and the audible gasp on the other line confirmed the feeling in your gut. You weren’t done yet. “What if my soulmate is a hundred and ten on his deathbed? What if he’s a murderer? What if… god forbid, a child?” the tears wouldn’t stop. You were hysterical. You no longer searched for “the one”.

Junior year, you spent a brief fall session abroad in Italy. It was a small group of 5 with one of your favorite professors and you were free to explore your own body of work in your specialty. This was the perfect opportunity to build your portfolio with historic sites and modern culture. Italy was beautiful, romantic, and being there felt like a dream. One of your cohort members met her soulmate while asking him for permission to sketch his picture. He was a green-eyed man with dark, curly hair swept in a low ponytail. Her Words appeared on his arm, “Excuse me! Do you mind?”

And his Words, “Non parlo inglese” Meaning, “I do not speak English”

After their shock subsided, they shared a laugh and you took their picture together, matching tender forearms side-by-side.

As intended, you didn’t find your soulmate in Italy, either. But you did find a spark. The whole soulmate business was breeding so many questions that were turning into criticisms inside you. The picture of your friend in Italy started churning the gears of your body of work. You began to seek out silly or strange First Words to photograph, and at the end of your spring semester, you held a solo exhibition back home. It was a smash and featured in the local paper on page 5. Soon after, it became viral on the internet.

Reviews raved about the humor of your photographs (one set of First Words read, “You think I’m cute, huh” and “You’re a fucking nightmare-boy”. Another, “Bless you” and “That wasn’t a sneeze” your personal favorite, "Give me your wallet" and "Oh hell no").

People were alarmed at some of the less traditional pairs you found: differing intense religious beliefs (Roman Catholic, and Satanist), age-disparity (15 year gap between them), familial relations (they were first-cousins), those encumbered by illness (one had been in a coma for 5 years), and something that was so rare you’d only read about it happening twice, ever: multiple soulmates.

In that particular case, you had put an advertisement online and received an e-mail that night from someone who wanted to refer you to their uncle and his family. You went the next morning to Prospect Park and met John and his soulmates Francis and Marilynn. You spent three hours with them that day. The photos you took were beyond lovely.

In senior year, you had a portfolio that was known world-wide. You were receiving so many e-mails a day about photo opportunities that your business address bounced back at least twice a week for 24 hours. Most of them were very desperate calls for attention, struggles for their 15 seconds of fame, you rarely had the time (or patience) to give an e-mail a second look. You put that body of work on hold, but still opened an online store to sell prints and gave the occasional phone interview. Between that and the various photography jobs you received elsewhere, you were self-sufficient and hardly struggled. You lived in a one-bedroom apartment and looked forward to travelling in the U.S. after college.

It was winter of senior year when you received a message in your personal e-mail that caught you by surprise. It was from Pepper Potts. The Pepper Potts. You were holed up cozily during a blizzard and almost spilled your tea in your lap. It was an invitation for you to visit Stark Tower headquarters, take a few pictures, and go home. The way she worded it was extremely delicate, making sure to flatter your work but also very strictly state the terms of agreement. She made sure to mention that you would be paid generously, of course.

When the snow melted, you made your journey, camera bag across your chest.

At age 20, you met Iron Man, Tony Stark, self-proclaimed billionaire, philanthropist, playboy, genius. You also met Natasha Romanoff, also known as Black Widow.

Ms. Potts had met you at the door, opening it and extending her hand. She immediately thanked you for coming in the cold and praised your photographs. It surprised you when she admitted that as famous as your Soulmate Series was, she was more intrigued by the tenderness of the candid shots you routinely represented in your work, not your actual choice of subject. She had also done some research and found various college articles where you took pictures of local businesses and restaurants. “The intimacy that you captured of the most mundane of places… they were beautiful. I knew you were the person I wanted.” You laughed about your naiveite in those days, being only a newbie at photography, but Ms. Potts shushed you.

She led you to a conference room and slid a contract in front of you, asking for your patience and understanding at the long document. After the end of nearly an hour and a half of reviewing, questioning, and a sneaky interview process, you were ready to begin. A lanyard was placed in your hand with your picture and a keycode, giving you access to certain floors of the building.

The contract was complicated, but it boiled down to this: You were hired by Stark Industries to photograph their employees (and future employees) as well as any floor you had access to. It was your job to deliver simple and tasteful photos to represent the Stark image. You understood it to mean that your job was to create a cult of personality for Stark Industries somewhere in the realm of capable, trustworthy, and familiar- as if these people could be your close friends. The contract spanned a 30-day period where you were able to enter the tower at your leisure and convenience, wander as you wished, ask any questions you may have, and ultimately submit a binder of no less than 50 pictures with your detailed notes (including personal opinion on each photo).

Ms. Potts strongly suggested that if this assignment went well, she had high hopes for your future at Stark Industries. She kept her promise and continued to reach out to you about assignments.

At 21, almost immediately after your graduation, you met Thor, Hawkeye, and Dr. Banner- you prayed you would never meet his other half. That same year, you also met him.

Captain America. Every child in America knew about Steve Rogers. When news leaked that his body had been found frozen and that he was living in New York, it stunned you. He was a (newly) living (dead?!) legend; the idea of him was too much. When it dawned on you that you would be photographing him, you immediately threw up.

You would never forget that day. Your stomach hurt all night. It hadn’t done that since you were a child.

When you entered Stark Tower- you were too nervous to even notice that it had been transformed to the newly dubbed Avengers Tower. You rode the elevator up to the conference room where you scheduled to meet Ms. Potts, but Mr. Stark was there instead. Next to him, was the unmistakable physique of Captain Rogers. Your stomach twisted itself into a pretzel and you had to suck in a deep breath to continue walking upright.

You were so nervous that when Stark asked you for the umpteenth time to please call him Tony, you nearly twisted your ankle by mis-stepping. Sadly for him, you wouldn’t utter his first name for another few years. Captain Rogers had narrowed his eyes at you and the camera bag hanging limply on your hip. You could not stop trembling under his scrutiny. Even Tony offered you a drink to take the edge off.

Finally, he spoke.

“Good morning,” he said quietly, giving you a gentle nod.

You didn’t stop to look as you bolted out of the conference room and down the hall. As soon as you reached the toilet, you threw up.

The bile and acid that burned a path up your throat lingered all day and flared constantly in Captain Rogers’ presence. Your chest burned like a blaze. He in turn, gave you inspecting, worried glances and never tried to come any closer than 10 feet. You thanked him silently from across rooms and hallways. Mr. Stark joked that the best candid moments with Captain Rogers were in the showers, but if you kept getting sick like that, you’ll never get a chance. Your stomach did not appreciate the insinuation whatsoever.

Ms. Potts was infinitely more helpful. She sent you down to the infirmary but they could find nothing wrong with you. The nurse helping you, however, did notice that you had suddenly formed a bright pink rash right in the middle of your chest after watching you nervously rub your torso.

You thought nothing more of it, and by the time you got home, it had vanished.

The contract Ms. Potts emailed you that night detailed the next assignment, and upon completion, you would be paid 20 thousand dollars, more than double the amounts you’d previously received. Her postscript thanked you for your hard work with the Avengers, specifically, your patience with Tony and his constant quips, but that she wanted you to take some time to yourself and explore the world. Twenty-one, she said, was a tremendously important year for young women, and that she hoped to see more of your photography that was special to you, rather than necessary to her.

That night, you broke your apartment lease and made plans to travel at the end of the month. For the next 30 days, you took some of the best photos you had ever taken of the Avengers. However, you deeply regretted every photo you took of Captain Rogers. They were never as detailed or intimate as any of the rest. He was always either in a group setting, or far off, jogging, training, perhaps reading a book… across the kitchen, on the other side of a window.

You were afraid of him. Or rather, you were afraid of how your body reacted to him. From time to time, you’d see him look at you apologetically, which made it a million times worse.

After your assignment was finished and the rest of the payment was deposited in your account, you sold your furniture and packed two bags. For the two years, you spent time in Thailand, Russia, Italy, New Zealand, Saudi Arabia, and even a few icy weeks visiting the Arctic.

Once again, you picked up your Soulmates Series. This time you solely focused on what you lovingly called peculiar pairs.

In Thailand, you found a pair of non-gender conforming soulmates who lived in a large community of entirely non gender conforming people. Most of the country itself was extremely accepting and kindhearted, something that pained you to think about in regard to your own home. You learned so much about sexuality and identity in your time with them, and at the end of your trip, you felt entirely changed about your perspective on what it was to be male and female- and whether or not it actually mattered!

In Russia, you met two people who identified as asexual- one being intersex. On the day you met, he identified as male and wore trousers and ordered the strongest coffee you had ever tasted. The next day, you hardly recognized him in a lavender gown, and were surprised and happily obliged when he asked you to use feminine pronouns. Upon your departure, he was back again in trousers and let you use masculine pronouns in your writing. It broke your heart to learn about their struggle in a country that shunned and viewed them with contempt.

Your travels brought you to many identities and many facets of love. There were couples who never engaged in romantic activity, but cherished each other more than you’d ever felt from another soul. There were others still who’s lives were kept secret from their families and their society, at large. There was a household in Italy with a husband and wife, not soulmates, living with another man, whose soulmate had been the husband. They met by chance on the train. The wife was 7 months along, and there was incredible tension under their roof. Most days, they made it fine, some days, she expressed to you, she couldn’t help but fall asleep crying.

Sometimes, you would meet soulmates that made you truly question the work. These pairs haunted you.

In New Zealand, a man was 65 when he met his soulmate; he had waited all his life. She was a young volunteer at the day care center where he worked. He thought she would reject him because of their age difference, but she loved him. They spent one blissful day together. The next day, she was involved in a fatal accident on her way to work. You sat in silence in his living room as he held onto a picture of her and sobbed.

At the end of your travels, departing from Saudi Arabia, your heart was full of grief about soulmates. The last pair you visited was in a dimly lit home, where the husband smoked profusely, and you could not see his wife until the very end. When she came into the light, her eyes were both blackened, and she could not speak due to the stitches in her mouth.

Returning to Manhattan, at age 23, you had given up on not only your own soulmate, but all soulmate indoctrination. Your heart was hardened by the knowledge that predestiny could usher in such suffering, and that love could be so terrible. You began to resist.

Next Chapter

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #reader insert #mcu x reader #Mystery of Love heli0s #soulmate au

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seijohsfairy · 4 years ago

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𝙾𝙵𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚄𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙾 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙴

You want to be by his side as much as time will allow you. The end all, be all of your soul. spencer @/kamoniwa and i were screaming about this in dms & we gave each other the green light to write it so hfhdis thank you and also a big thank you to carrie @/ourladyofseijoh aka queen of sacrilege for beta reading and all your help in general ♡ i hope you enjoy!!

meian shugo wordc. 4k+

tw priest!meian, sacrilege, (semi) public, coercion/manipulation, god complex, degradation, religious guilt/ trauma and a lot of catholic imagery in general, he’s called Father

📷

There’s no place to escape prying eyes in the House of God. You’ve always felt this way when you were younger too, clinging to the cold of the thick pillars that carry the monstrous building, old and dark and unavoidable.

Even when there was no such sin to taint your hands and mouth, you could look up and feel the weight of eyes on you through the deep purple and azure of the stained glass, making your throat tight and fight small. Now, they are incessant, eternal, and with each passing moment standing in this place of good and light the walls seem to crumble a little more around you.

But most of all, you’re overwhelmed by the flicks of a gaze you can feel on your back, flitting ever so gently along the edges of your frame. They are soft, no longer suffocating like sand that fills your lungs. No— the prickly gaze you feel on the swell of your cheeks and down your shoulder is more than that. You light a candle and slot it along with dozen others, taking a deep breath. Unsteady, it trembles through your frame with the weight of this place on your shoulders. The dimness of the high ceiling, the chill of the wind that whips inside and brings goosebumps to your legs, none of it is enough to keep you away.

Not anymore, not since you… well. Faith takes shape in many ways, you remind yourself of those words, willing the nerves to die down as the groups of people take their seats and the pastor up front welcomes with kind words. Most of them are elders, some of which you recognize from when you were still a little girl and who you think will keep coming until death knocks. Strange you knew them before the looks started piercing through your soft skin and the image of unsettling loneliness was taken away. You linger in the back of the large room now, next to one of the pillars, carefully studying the plane of light that falls so perfectly on the pulpit. Golden crucifix catching a gleam, and keeping your eyes straight ahead.

Looming as the building is, sometimes you wonder how you’d fare if you simply stopped coming. If the eyes would follow you long after you’ve run around the corner and hid away under the plush of your blankets. You hope they don’t, but a sharp pressure to your chest tells you they would. And if not, the fear of being left all by yourself is what brought you back in the first place, you have no doubt it could drag you back by your ankles once again. The woman behind the organ starts a simple melody as the people rise to sing. Swirling voices that fill the room and seem to tip the peace off it’s axes, and then a simple breath.

Even though he remains a few steps away, the mere presence is enough to have your hairs standing up and your breathing feel laboured, a needed reminder that this— this is why you return. And that meeting him like this is the closest you’ll get to a religious experience again, that from the moment you met eyes with him and felt his gaze on your tear-strung lashes there was something worth saving. The slow melody of the song is interrupted by a deep voice, and you hold the urge to turn around to him right away.

“Back again already.” There’s something in his tone, always. Under layers of composure and confidence it sits, like a bite of fresh fruit, tempting you to take more, taste more, have all of him— He lets out a breath of amusement when you don’t move, burning his pupils into the side of your face. “It’s a bit soon, don’t you think?” It isn’t really a question, so you don’t answer. You only lace your hands together and look away from the pastor to stare at the floor. “Something to repent for that couldn’t wait until Sunday?”

“I wanted to see you,” you whisper, blinking aimlessly at the tips of your shoes. More than that, it hurt being away from him, ice growing on your veins the longer you waited, but you don’t think it’s fair to tell him that. A soft hum is all his response for a few seconds, before he leans over your shoulder to tower over you so easily. You can see his chest from the corner of your eye, the curve of his shoulder and a bit of exposed skin of his neck. And your tongue burns with a need, an unfair whisper of what could be. What secrets lie upon that skin that you’ll never be able to see.

But with his mouth close enough to your ear to raise the small bumps on your arms, he speaks, voice amused. “Little liar.” Those two words are enough to have your tongue rotting in your mouth, glueing it to the base and fighting through the defenses you want to put up. Because despite the hard tone, there’s a certain loveliness to the term. A sickly endearment for broken things. “I think you’re just looking for trouble so you can repent. So are you a servant of God or not, sweet thing? Because I’m starting to have my doubts.” With another step towards you you sway on your feet, hands clamping down on your shirt.

“I—” you try, stilling just as quickly. You don’t know a lot of things, you’re young and though you’d choose to be a bit smarter, a bit brighter; all you’re really sure of is that you start and end with him. And that from the moment you saw him, so holy and otherworldly, you were called to worship at his feet. You must be a servant of God, if this is all you’re reduced to around him. “I am, of course I am. I’m devoted, I swear.” Another chuckle as he presses up against your back now, voices and music fading into the void.

“Your honesty is endearing,” he whispers, bringing up his hand to the front of your throat and tilting your head back just a bit. The rise and fall of his chest seems more melodic than it should. You long to fall to that sound, let it take over your body and mind all at once. But for now his voice will suffice— and if anything, more than that would probably suffocate you. “But you’re just a sinner here. You shouldn’t be standing here like this. You should be on your knees, praying for forgiveness.”

“I will, Father Meian,” you shake as he squeezes a bit tighter, pulling your body against him more. Your breathing hitching, lips dropping open at the squeeze and the swirling in your brain. So lightheaded, like only he can make you feel. “I’ll repent in front of you a million times if that’s what you deem necessary. Please.” His hard-lined, strong body pressed against you, overwhelming every of your senses. He smells like something dark, a spice that interrupts your thoughts. And it’s unfair, so unfair, because he always tells you you smell sweet, but you’re sure there’s no lovelier scent in the world than him.

He hums as he places a soft kiss on your neck, before straightening out when the pastor up front ends his round of greetings and moves back to the pulpit. And you can feel the eyes that seem to look on from above, but now they seem to beg for you, beg to see your skin split open and be bled out from sin, and you know that only Meian could make that a reality. For as much as you are unknowing about, you do know this one thing. You’d pray at his feet for the rest of your days if you could, crawl on your knees and scrape the skin until your bones turn to ash.

If that’s what it means to worship, you think you could. For him. “What ungodly thing did you manage this time? Think you can tell me?” His large hands trail down the curve of your spine to up at your hips, settling there with soft circles and a deep breath. He pulls you back into his large, strong body, as you pretend that you can’t feel the need gush to your center and warm you up top to bottom. “What’s the matter, my little whore? Can’t tell a Father something so bad, is that it? You think I can’t help you when you tell me about how you opened your legs for me every night for the past month, stuffing your fingers inside yourself while you’re thinking of me?”

You gasp, whimpering when he starts pushing his hips to your backside and bunches up your long skirt to slip his hand underneath it. You stumble to the side a few steps to lean into the cold stone and turn your face toward it, quickly grabbing the front of your clothing to push it back down as much as the fabric allows. Meian chuckles behind you when his two fingers slide over the sticky, wet patch of your panties. “Confess. Or else I stop right now. And you’ll stay a filthy, sopping wet, unmarried slut with no place in the House of God.”

You whimper when those fingers slide under the crotch of them to rub between the slick folds of your pussy, letting you drop back your head against his chest where it rises and falls so gently, taking the most private part of you and making it his again. His breaths cascade down your neck when he leans down to kiss along your throat, and you’re so grateful that you’re hidden behind the pillar enough not to make a scene, because it’s impossible to stay silent when the two thick digits dip into you and slide up to curl your walls.

Making you drip down his hand when he pulls them back, then stuffing them right back in place and stretching you open with easy motions that have your eyes closing and legs shaky. “Confess,” he breathes.

“Yes, I-” you whimper, cold of the stone under your palm the only thing to keep you from floating up, scratching your nails into it, “I touched myself while wishing it was you. W-wanted your—” You’re cut off by your own strained moan that you try to keep in, as he scissors his fingers in you and presses the tip of a third inside too, legs shifting open to make more room. You bite through a cry when he grabs your neck and pushes you forward, now clinging to the stone with shaky fingers and your cheek pressed up against it.

“Want my what?” he taunts, curling his fingers again into the spot that has you seeing stars as he motions in and out of your pussy with ease, humming when you arch your back more and push back against him. “Tell me, pretty girl.”

“Your hands and your mouth— hnm,” even with everything spoken under your breath and the organ still echoing through the grand hall, you feel like the words pound between your ears. “And your cock, F-father, oh-” he pulls his index finger out to rest it against your clit instead, rubbing these as he fucks his fingers into you again and again with a ruthless determination, “ah, please Father Meian.”

When the pressure builds up so much that it’s impossible to focus on anything else, heat filling your belly and legs about to buckle, he lifts the back of your skirt up to expose the way his hand works between your thighs and dripping down his fingers with wet squelches.

You bite down on your own hand when the realization comes that you shouldn’t be getting touched this way in public -no matter how Holy Meian is- but stopping now is impossible. He grunts when your walls clench around him, the touches to your puffy clit becoming unbearable. “Always come running back to me so pretty.” And even in such simple words, you know aren’t imagining the care laced in those words.

“Always.” You reach behind you for his wrist when you get too close, throat catching and thighs shaking, digging your nails into the skin. “Oh- m, I- mhng, so close, please—” You can’t help the moan it drags from you, when he grabs your shoulders and pulls your much smaller body back against him, muscular arm pressed like a safeguard over your chest.

You let your eyes drop closed and lift your one leg for better access, before you’re shaking on his hand. “Cumming-” you cry, swallowing a moan when he grabs your throat and squeezes, the music suddenly falling away. You cum apart around his fingers, eyes clenched shut and shaking as he helps you through it, letting your body collapse into him where he holds you up.

“Quiet, pretty thing,” he mumbles though, “be quiet.” Your lashes are heavy with tears when you look around, stumbling back to your feet when his touch drops and he smears your wetness on the inside of your thigh, still keeping you close to his body as he turns you to face the congregation. Everyone is luckily still looking forward. You tremble when he slips his fingers from under your skirt to slide into his mouth. He leans around your other side to hover his lips over your ear. “See all those devoted people? That’s who I should be helping, instead of some stupid girl who keeps spreading her legs like a filthy, common whore.”

Finally, he lets go of you entirely, and you fist your hands in your white skirt when you finally turn to face him for the first time. Warm, angular eyes that seem to look through you, with pretty lips and a jaw to die for, the strong, intense features of the person haunting your dreams night after night. His one eyebrow raises. “Give me one good reason I should hear your prayers at all.”

“I- I,” you start, looking from him to your feet and then back as you hesitate. There’s so little you can say to him, it’s always been that way. You feel at a loss when you’re around him, but strangely, you feel an even greater loss not returning to him. Like the ocean forever chasing the beach.

“I meant it, I wanted to see you. Wanted to hear you and— want your h-help to get rid of this lust. I know it’s a bad thing but,” you swallow, ignoring the tiny twitch of his lips pulling upward, “but I can’t help myself, Father. Please help me.” He takes a moment to look around, before suddenly holding out his hand toward you. Like an offering.

You can only watch how he takes your hand into his giant palm, fingers wrapping around it to pull you away from the main hall to the side of the building. “Lets talk about this in private.” You’re pulled behind his big steps, frowning at the wet feeling of your panties between your legs. You really are some disgusting sinner, you think, as you’re walked through a smaller door into the sacristy. Not entirely separated, but enough to feel like you won’t be found out within a second if you look at him too long.

And you find yourself making that mistake often lately. “I think I know the cure to your problem,” he breathes, turning around to face you, and you drop your head all the way back to look at him as he speaks. “Here,” he drops your hand to his crotch, letting you feel his hard-on under his robes.

“Oh- I mean,” you feel the heat rise to your face now, looking away. You’d been touched and touched him plenty these last few months, the weight of his cock in your mouth still feeling as divine in memory. But when you try to sink onto your knees like you would normally, he keeps you upright, shaking his head. You blink. “N- How else can I—”

“You need something more than simple prayer.” You tremble a little when his hand comes to cup your cheek, urging you a little closer to his warm body as you feel his cock twitch in his boxers, pushing your legs together at the thought of feeling him there. You know it’s bad, but somewhere along the way lust must’ve taken hold of you too tight, because you feel like you can’t breathe. “Because you’re an unholy slut, a filthy little thing,” he whispers, now pushing the sleeves of your top over your shoulders with the murmuring of the pastor in the background. “You can’t be saved any other way, dumb girl. Take out my cock.”

You look into his pretty eyes as you take a breath, before doing as he says and lifting the black layers of robe. You push his underwear down, his huge cock slapping up against his stomach. The little breath you let out before spitting into your palm and wrapping your hand around him is soft, glancing over your shoulder towards the door. “Father, anyone could-”

“No one’s going to come in here,” he hisses, watching you pump your small hands along his shaft a few times, “if you’re quiet. What do you think they’d say if they found you here, stroking a Priest’s cock like a greedy little slut. This is your fault, stupid girl.” The low rumble of his voice is almost hypnotizing, keeping you right in place as he fucks his cock into your fists. You lean down, licking and sucking at the head of his cock with each thrust you get to feel him push between your lips into your warm mouth. But he stops you and motions you over to the table. “On here.”

Though your heart races in your chest, you do as he says. Laying down, kicking off your skirt and panties and spreading your legs for him with your eyes cast to the floor. He’s quick to grab your hips and haul you higher up onto it, pushing your knee up to your chest. His cock drools eagerly as he stands between your thighs, and you hold onto his hand as he pushes up against you. “Take a deep breath, pretty girl,” he whispers, slowly pushing the spongy head against your fluttering hole. “Let me help you. This is how you atone for your sins.”

Then he pushes into you, the thick head of his cock spreading you open and you instantly close your eyes at the stinging stretch, tearing up. “Aw, ah,” you squeak. You’re not a virgin, but it sure feels like it as your pussy is filled with him, pushing in more and more until you can barely feel anything but the way your stomach bulges to fit him. “Father, ah- M-Meian, it’s so,” your voice is muffled when you bring up your free hand to keep quiet, “big, s’big!”

“That’s it, good girl.” He holds still only a little when your poor walls are entirely filled by him, back arching to relieve some of the almost painful pressure in your belly. “My beautiful girl, there you go.” He pulls back, then pushing back inside with a snap of his hips, and you’re mewling to get away from him. It’s too good, too full and the stretch leaves you so empty each time he pulls back. But his large hands tighten on your hips as he forces himself back into your wet, gummy walls without mercy, speeding up the pace with each thrust. “Feel good?”

In the other room, the pastor’s clear voice echoes through the room.

And Jesus answered them, “Have faith in God.”

“Yes, yes,” you chant, letting him lift you up a little to drive his cock even deeper, pounding into your sensitive pussy so perfectly it has you seeing stars. You open your eyes enough to glance at his furrowed brows, enjoying your reactions more than he should. It’s clear when he shifts his hips up to push right into that spot, holding your legs as you try to snap them closed instinctively.

Have faith in God. Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says will come to pass, it will be done for him.

Instead of going easy on you this only seems to motivate him more, fucking into you even faster. His hips smacking against your puffy clit again and again. “You feel so, hng- good! Oh my— mhm! Too good, t-too good, please give me more! Oh God!”

Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.

Meian doesn’t slow, but instantly lifts your other leg to your chest too, making the table scrape along the stone floor with each thrust into you. And if you’d be able to see through your heavy tears, you’d see the way his lips flatten and a strange determination comes over his eyes. He rests his entire body to hold your thighs up and snaps his hips into you, wet paps of his skin and balls pounding against you. And with that the only thing you can think of chanting is ‘Oh God, oh God, please,’ over and over again as he fucks the thoughts out of you entirely.

And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.

He suddenly pulls out and turns you over, letting you hips bump the edge of the table as you whine and moan, pushing back into your gushing hole as your eyes roll back. “Are you calling me God, baby?” he mumbles, holding your hips down and bottoming out with hard, impatient thrusts. “Calling me your God and coming undone on my cock like this, you want to be my personal whore, is that it?” You’re nodding before you can even realize what his words really mean, feeling his hand slip back between your legs to push over your clit with unfairly slow motions that don’t match his thrusts at all. “Pray to me.”

You do. “Help me, God my Savior, -ahh, for the glory of Your name.” He pounds you open until the pressure becomes so tight you’re clamping down on him, so close to another orgasm. “Deliver me and forgive me for my s-sins,” you cry, voice high pitched and shaky, “for Your name’s sake.”

The heat of his skin on yours seems to collect in your belly, aching to drop you into a second high. “Lord, I pray that You remove my guilt and wipe away my sins, hng- so that I can draw closer to You.” He moans when you clench around him, pounding your tiny pussy open and watching the way your glistening, slick pussy stretches around his fat cock a bit longer. “With You there is forgiveness so that I can, with reverence, serve You. I praise You for forgiving me for my sins even though I do not deserve it!”

You’re practically choking out the last part when he starts rubbing your oversensitive clit faster, with touches that leave your legs weak. “T-Thank You for -oh, God, thank You for loving me unconditionally, ah, ahng, A-Amen!”

“A little louder, baby, I can’t hear you,” he grabs hold of your face to turn it to the side as your mouth drops open and your tear stricken cheek is pressed to the table. It’s such a good sight to watch you completely destroyed on his cock, panting and shaking like a bitch in heat. You reach back to grab at his thighs for some support. Another flick of his finger makes you squeak.

“A—hng-ah Amen!”

“Where do you think God is now? Is he watching you get fucked right now? Do you think he despises you for being such a dirty slut? Tell me,” he growls. You clench around him so hard it’s almost impossible to pull out, sweat rolling down the valley of your breasts. “Or is he between your legs right now, making you cum like the pitiful bitch you are?” Each word is accentuated with the tilt of his hips. “Where. Is. Your. God?”

“You, you! It’s you!” you cry, before finally cumming with a moan of his name and your fingers digging hard into his skin. You squirm under him as he fucks you through it, before you can feel a few more sloppy thrusts. Hot, white ropes of cum fill you up as you try to catch your breath. “God Forgive me,” you whisper when he pulls out, a mix of both your cum dripping down when you push up.

He stares at your wasted body for a bit longer, before tucking himself back into his underwear. He helps you up from the table onto very shaky legs, leaning into the furniture. “You will be, you worked hard.”

You flush when he eyes you down with a smile, taking back your skirt when he hands it to you. And then he leans down to press a small kiss on your lips, before letting the grin pull wider. “See you on Sunday.”

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fleomae · 4 years ago

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MMS 194: JOURNAL

Beginning this journal with the ultimate art question of "What does art mean to you?"

I liked what Thomas McEvilley, professor of art history in Rice University said, "The last time I was in Houston, I went to a place called Media Center, where someone had set up posts as in a back yard with laundry hung all over. I immediately knew it was an artwork because of where it was. If I had seen it hanging in someone's yard, I would not have known whether it was art, though it might have been. It is art if it is called art, written about in an art magazine, exhibited in a museum or bought by a private collector.".

To continue with his point, "What's hard for people to accept is that issues of art are just as difficult as issues of molecular biology; you cannot expect to open up a page on molecular biology and understand it. This is the hard news about art that irritates the public. if people are going to be irritated by that, they just have to be irritated by that.".

Something I also find meaningful to this most asked question is perfectly worded by Arthur Danto from Art critic of The Nation, he says, "You can't say something's art or not art anymore. That's all finished. There used to be a time when you could pick out something perceptually the way you can recognize, say, tulips or giraffes. But the way things have evolved, art can look like anything, so you can't tell by looking. Criteria like the critic's good eye no longer apply. Art these days has very little to do with esthetic responses; it has more to do with intellectual responses. You have to project a hypothesis: Suppose it is a work of art? Then certain questions come into play -- what's it about, what does it mean, why was it made, when was it made and with respect to what social and artistic conversations does it make a contribution? If you get good answers to those questions, it's art. Otherwise it turned out just to be a hole in the ground."

And as a religious type of person I find this short saying from Robert Hughes striking. He says, "The Puritans thought of religious art as a form of idolatry, a luxury a distraction, morally questionable in its essence, compared to the written and spoken word.”.

From here you can see the art differences from Catholics, Orthodox, and the many many denominations of Protestantism. I guess growing up in the Philippines most art I experience is about the religious if not historical. It's always been my dream to visit France and Rome to come and see all the "art" people are identifying as but as society moves forward with nano technology, we can see many forms of Computational Art.

For example are the three below...

Digital illustrations, sounds cool right? Well, I was thinking of Digital Kinetic Art at first but I couldn't find an artist that purely does a digital version, so I had to look for other options until I finally found this amazing artist named Sean Charmatz. He was born on August 28, 1980, in San Diego, California. He is an animator of Spongebob Squarepants, LEGO Movie 2, and Trolls. He spent several years as a writer, artist, and storyboard director for the television show Nickelodeon. He also shared his digital art talents with the companies like Dreamworks and Disney.

He is making the mundane normal ordinary things as something worth looking at, with a story to portray from scratch!!! Looking into his art, I don't know if I have a bias reason because I grew up watching Spongebob and I really like the show and other types of cartoons too like "The Adventure Time", "Princess Sophia", "Barbie Movies", "Dora the Explorer", "The Amazing World of Gumball", and the like. It's something I find pleasurable as a younger child (actually until now, but I don't have the leisure time I used to have), and as I see his newest digital illustrations, I can't help but be in awe and smile with a childlike smirk. I might do something like this as he inspired me to make the mundane objects into something fun with a cool story to tell.

Especially now during pandemic, and everyone is asked to stay indoors and minimize social interactions at most. We should be creative to learn in entertaining ourselves and making the most of our everyday situations. He is truly inspiring, and maybe with the practice I'll do, I might be able to make cute short children's comics for the next generation.

Here are some of his recent digital illustrations,

Moving from visuals let's talk about our hearing, let's talk about Generative Music. Majority of my life I've been listening to Pop songs and classical ones, usually made the traditional way 100% human, learning about this algorithm or computer composed type of music is a bit odd for me because it feels technical and numbers complicated, in a way distant and out of touch. Computers are a recent invention by the human race, so we can understand why more and more innovations related to it are still growing everyday, a lot of people who doesn't see it's importance will be left behind and soon enough more and more generative music art will enter the music scene, digital divide will be inevitable.

This type of music scene is "experimental" as it's unknown to a lot of possibilities and very different from the traditional music producers and artists, we still don't know how will it click, is it a fad or here to stay? I'm not sure, but I think more types of sounds will be incorporated in music, specially in movies and other types of effects if it doesn't get popularity in the music industry.

Hatsune Miku, the first ever open-source singer is having popularity around people specially those who like anime and the things of its kind. Only this year I was able to discover this type of music scene and I never expected that Hatsune Miku Youtube music has millions and millions of viewers and subscribers. Music analysis software exists that can predict hits with increasing accuracy, and Google Labs have an ersatz neural network up and running that can make convincing music. Along with all the other jobs currently being destroyed by automation, it looks like the most human of all – music – is under threat.

To move forward let’s go back in 2017, I liked this guy from the College of Business Administration and he is one of those cool distant type of guy who gives this big mystery vibe, and what do you do when someone is mysterious? You stalk them online, so I did and that's how I found out about "hello poetry". I didn't know digital poetry actually has a term, a name but I knew it has a community online, which is cool because you can make an online library and records of all your poems easily accessible online if you're into this thing. I actually joined the platform "hello poetry" after reading a ton about my crush's online poems, in a way I was inspired. Once you join it's nice to see other poets about their works, what others are raving about, and sometimes judge inevitably although some are very beautiful others are also unconventionally short and seems like a tweet. This category of art can fall on art & literature which is something purely human, well as of now. Soon enough computers will be able to make their own poems, maybe there already is.

Here's a link to my first and only poem I published in the community, https://hellopoetry.com/fleomae/

#MMS194 artjournal computationalart #essay

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floatingbook · 5 years ago

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Hey there! It's potential buzz anon again but I have a different question this time, sorry. I've spent my whole life as an unorthodox Jewish woman but I really struggle with the idea of belonging to a religion whilst also believing in feminist ideology. They are not easily compatible. I noticed you were Roman Catholic and was curious about if you had any advice or weight on the subject? I'm finding separating myself and my true beliefs from my familial religion a little difficult 😓

Oh love, that is a truly complex question.

A bit of context first. I was raised in the Roman Catholic faith by people who were in it for the “love thy neighbors” bit, not the “stone homosexuals and adulterous women to death” part. I went to mass every week from age six to a little beyond my eighteenth birthday, and I still lived with extremely religious people (the “homosexuals will burn in hell” and “abortion should be banned” and “a woman’s place is at home raising a brood of kids” kind) for an additional two years.

I’ll skip through all my agonized questioning and doubts over god’s existence and philosophical revelations. My understanding today is that, whether god exists or not, I don’t care. I don’t want to live my life in fear of divine retribution after death; I want to do the right thing because it is the right thing, not because I’m scared of hell. Now, if the Roman Catholic church was all love everybody and yadi yada, I might have stayed. But I do not want to give support to a misogynistic, homophobic, corrupt and morally bankrupt institution that still does a lot of harm to this day. I don’t want to devote my life’s energy to reforming it from the inside. I’d rather burn it all to the ground.

So in practice, what does all this means for me? I no longer go to mass, I don’t pray to a god I don’t believe in. I’ve made my stand very clear to most of my family, and they’ve accepted it, being as I said not part of the extremist kind. Discussing my reasons and the recent coming to light of pedophilic abuse in the church has actually led my mother to distance herself from the cult too.

For you, here’s my advice. First, determine whether or not you believe in god. Second, does it matter? If god exist, do you want to worship? What would it bring you? What would it cost you? Third, is worshiping a big part of your social practice? Would you loose family members, friends, if you didn’t see them during religious gatherings? If you take the time to answer those questions, to truly ponder what you look for in religion, whether you can safely leave your religion, then you can come to a decision regarding the place of religion in your life.

That being said, feminist ideology is in total opposition to patriarchal religion, you will likely have to let go of one of them, otherwise you’ll always be pulled into two conflicting directions, dragged around and stretched thin by compromises.

#anon #don't apologize for asking questions #on religion #on feminism #why i left the church #how to accommodate religion with feminism #(hint) i couldn't #to me god is dead

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years ago

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Rock/Queentober 2020, Oct. 20th: Church

Assigned lad for this day: Roger

Synopsis: Roger/Trans M Reader, set again around 1978 like my previous Roger/Trans M Reader fic. A stormy day, and a bit too far to run back to your shared flat with Roger. But there is one shelter available, even if Roger would rather stay out in the mess. Also, an employment decision gets made!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“Roger, honestly,” you said as gently as you could manage. “We aren’t going to live in it, or even be here long. It’s just until this storm blows over some.”

You held open the door of the church, and gestured for him to follow you in. You weren’t particularly religious yourself, at least not in a way that mattered, but it was hailing hard with the wind whipping rain and chunks of hail at you both, and the church had a ‘please come inside, all those in need of temporary shelter’ sign on it. You were fairly sure that was meant usually for the homeless, but you figured it could mean you two for right now.

Roger pushed his sopping wet hair out of his eyes. “Don’t really like being in churches much.”

“Any shelter in a storm, love,” you said, and held out a hand to him.

After another moment of hesitation, he took it and let you pull him inside.

“Cold in here,” Roger muttered.

“Well, I don’t think anyone else is here,” you said as you led him further into the church, down the center row of pews. “So they probably aren’t wasting money heating an empty building. Or at least, the heat isn’t up very high.”

“How are we to get warm then?” Roger asked with a giggle, grabbing your hips and pulling you so your back was against his chest.

“We’re in a church, Rog!”

“So? Tell Jesus or whoever to avert his eyes,” Roger said. “There’s a verse about that, right? If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out. Well, I want to kiss my boyfriend till he warms up, so start plucking, Jesus.”

You burst into giggles as he peppered your face with kisses, pulling you with him to sit on one of the pews.

“Ouch,” he muttered. “They couldn’t make these more comfortable by now?”

“I don’t think comfort is the idea,” you replied. “They never were back home either.”

Roger’s eyes lit up. He had, what was to you, an odd love for hearing about your upbringing in the States. But in fairness to him, other Americans had never gotten a kick out of any of your Bona Fide American Upbringing, so it was nice to have someone interested in listening to old stories.

“You would have hated my great-grandmother’s church,” you said. “Very traditional Catholic. Which means pretty, but nothing is comfortable to sit on, and you can’t touch anything.”

“Sounds lovely,” he chuckled.

“If I think about only those bits, it is,” you said. “And she loved it, which is what matters. All that was very important to her. To me...not so much. I mean, I believe what I do, but it doesn’t exactly align with any one religion fully, and I believe with a grain of salt, so...”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m rambling. You should just kiss me.”

“I can do that,” Roger said, and let you adjust in his lap so he could kiss you softly. “But I don’t care if you ramble. I like hearing you talk, hearing about your life.”

“You’re too sweet,” you smiled. “You indulge me.”

“Maybe, but you indulge me too,” Roger said. “Go on, keep going. Your voice resonates wonderfully in here.”

You hadn’t noticed how fully your voice filled the space really, but you realized he was right, and blushed at his compliment.

“Alright. Well, what else would you like me to talk about?”

Roger shrugged, hugging you close, pushing his cold nose into your back as you leaned forward to rest your arms over the pew in front of you. “Whatever you like.”

“Okay,” you said. “Then I want to talk about you.”

“No,” Roger laughed. “There’s much better things to talk about.”

“I don’t think so,” you said. “In case you haven’t noticed, I do love you.”

“I have noticed,” Roger said. “And I love you too.”

“And I love all the little things about you,” you continued. “How your hair is all ruffled when you wake up in the morning, bleary-eyed. The way you kiss me whenever I get home, first thing. Sometimes I don’t even get my shoes off!”

“Well,” Roger said. “I’ve got to make up for it. The days I’m away, you know. I’d be happy to have you along on every tour, you know that, right? All you have to do is ask, and the guys wouldn’t mind-”

You turned again carefully, letting your legs stretch out over his lap on the pew, mindful to keep your wet shoes off the pew, though the angle was awkward. “I know. But I’ve got my job to keep, and they won’t let me go gallivanting off on tours unfortunately.”

“You could work for us,” he said.

“That...is very tempting, considering the way the shop has been lately,” you sighed.

“Quit there then,” Roger said. “Come work for us, be part of the road crew or something. There’s always a need for extra hands, you could be a float. Going to whoever needs you, learning bits and pieces as you go. I know you wouldn’t mind the work.”

“I certainly wouldn’t,” you said. “You really wouldn’t care, if I did that? If you were sort of my boss-”

“Oh!” Roger scoffed. “I don’t run anything. John’s in charge of some of the money things now, if anything, out of the four of us, he would be the closest thing to a boss.”

“Well then, would John mind being my boss?” you asked with a giggle.

“Truly, I don’t think he would give a fuck,” Roger replied. “You get along with the other members of the road crew already, so why not join up? Then you get to see all those places with me, and I can get more kisses to you-”

He adjusted his lap slightly, and you could feel him half-hard in his tight trousers. Part of you knew better, considering where you were, but a bigger part of you knew that was some leftover bullshit from your upbringing, and that you weren’t hurting anyone by teasing each other a bit while you waited for the thunder and lightning outside to cease.

“And even more,” he continued, wrapping an arm under your outstretched legs and another around your back to pull you close. “I mean, it’s still work, so I can’t be in the hotel room all the time, and sometimes we don’t get a hotel room...”

“Roger, I remember from the few tour dates I made it out to the last time,” you reassured. “That’s okay, because I’ll be working too. And in between, on the days we do get a hotel room-”

You turned to the crucifix at the front of the room. “Ah. If you do exist, and watch...you might want to just look away and not listen.”

“Can you tell a god that?” Roger asked.

You shrugged. “I just did.”

Then you leaned close and kissed him as hard and deeply as you dared, while sitting where you were. “As I was saying, on the days we do get a hotel room, we’ll fuck hard enough neither of us can walk after, and then we’ll snuggle. Which sounds like a good job benefit to me.”

Roger’s eyes fluttered open after another moment, and he swallowed hard. “We also pay for lunches and dinners for the crew, if that helps sway your decision at all.”

You laughed, and kissed him again, gently. “My decision is made. I’ll quit tomorrow at the shop, and you can have John or Miami or whoever handles employment paperwork call me in to get everything done.”

“I’ll call them tonight,” Roger smiled.

“After we dry off from the storm,” you said, moving off his lap and out of the pew, taking him by the hand to the door of the church.

“I thought we were sheltering here?”

“We were, and we did,” you replied. “But I can’t wait any longer to do things to you that I’m simply not comfortable doing in a church. So we’re going to get soaked, and probably bruised by hail, but when we get home...”

He grinned as he followed you out into the storm, and though the hail and wind were sharp and cold, you hardly noticed.

You had his hand in yours, and as soon as you got home, you would have his skin against yours, and no matter what, where, or when, you had his love.

No storm of any kind could frighten or hurt you, so long as you had that.

#text post #LeeH writes #queen band fic #Lee's Rock/Queentober 2020 #roger taylor x reader

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sanguinarius-archive · 5 years ago

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im not that familiar with treatsforbeats i watched like. a few videos but other than that i know nothing! but i would be glad to hear you info dump!

there is SO MUCH..... im gonna put a read more below because this turned out to be way longer than i expected. but you asked for me to infodump so here goes

okay so. treatsforbeasts, i dont know what the whole meaning behind the channel is. i cant specifically say what the goal of the channel’s content is because its all in my interpretation. but i do know that there are meanings behind each video as silly as it may seem and im just gonna list them off here (note that not all videos will be included since i may not be able to interpret every one, also this is going from earliest to most recent)

1. men with small hands carry very little treats to give to little girls with the sharpest little teethinterpretation of this video is csa/child sex trafficking. “little treats” refers to pills or some form of drug (small, makes u trip). however the “sharpest little teeth” could represent the little girl fighting back.

2. mom ordered ants for my birthdaychild abuse. mother forces son to watch and/or possibly engage in inappropriate activity with her husband.

3. i love jesusobviously a dark parody of christianity/catholicism. shows how blindly some fanatical christians/catholics will follow their beliefs, to the point where they no longer truly “follow” it as theyve warped the message to fit their own morbid desires (using christianity/the bible to excuse hatred and judgment upon others).

4. i me you love godanother dark parody of christianity/catholicism. i believe it mocks how fanatical christians/catholics focus only on the negative aspects of the bible instead of learning the true messages, as many of the words used are from the bible and are negative words.

5. behdsPROBABLY just a silly video but, i think it represents how people let negativity embed itself into their lives and complain about it even though it’s so easy to just let go of it.

6. jaffreymocking some sitcoms for how dumb and repetitive they can be.

7. kiss papa’s mustachepossibly child abuse, again.

8. storytimereferences/implies child abuse. storytime is also the name of one of treatsforbeasts’ songs on his Sanguinarius - Sin Nomine album.

9. hymns for him (1 + 2)just total parody albums of christian rock. vocals make you feel like youre dying but its actually kinda good to listen to in some parts

10. i screaming inside my headRoii (the character)’s first appearance. also probably symbolizes how depressing some kinds of music are

11. felines have nine livesnot sure but i feel like this is a warrior cats reference, in complete and total honesty (dont watch it if you dont like c/at d/eath though, its fictional but. yeah)

12. beastsreflection of society as a whole

then there’s. the two short films and sin nomine. so i’m gonna delve into that now and be warned, it’s fuckin long

treatsforbeasts is the self-titled short film and the first longest video on the treatsforbeasts channel. basically what i get from this is that treatsforbeasts, the channel itself, symbolizes an actual channel that chauncy (the child character in the short film, who is portrayed as a literal oral fleshlight with a body) watches. he consumes these concepts, such as internalizing misogyny (claw-paw skit), toxic masculinity (can i like balloons skit) and being exposed to a normalization of christianity (heaven and hell skit). there’s also a skit in which a spider binge eats and then proceeds to throw it up, which chauncy actually mimicks when his father brings him food.his father very much disapproves of these messages being shown on tv. he tells chauncy in regards to the claw-paw skit, when chauncy belittles the female character, “that’s not very nice, now is it”, and says “you can like ballons, you can love balloons if you want to”. his father goes on long tangents about how many institutions have normalized and inherited the concepts of christianity, and that it is one of the contributing factors of violence in the world. he references colonization, the holocaust, and in general mentions minorities.we learn that the father actually ended up being a father to chauncy in the first place due to (nsfw tw) masturbating in a sock to a picture of robert smith, and 9 months later chauncy was born. so technically there is no mother. the father talks about the meaning of life, and how everyone on the inside is a little bit of a freak, but there’s only two real ways you can accept that: 1) realize that your freakishness gives you a special lense through with you see the world and aid it in the ways the sane and happy ones probably cant, and 2) realize that real way number 1 is just lying to itself and that youre still a somewhat integral part of the lives of those you care for so deeply. he says that choosing which way to live really reverts back to the meaning of life, that you cannot live day by day believing there’s no reason to. “but whatever reason you give yourself to live, [...] you do it, because it is correct to live.”

sin nomine comes after the first short film, but i’ll delve into that after because really it touches on many many of the points and interpretations here.

the second short film, the beast is dead, was released just this year on valentines day! i think the main focus of the short film ranges from relationships to just once again a mockery of christianity/catholicism. once again it starts off with a father and his son. there is no mother figure present though she’s said to have left, due to the father watching too much “birdies”, a show, which i think is a metaphor for porn addiction. the father is implied to being prone to neglecting the son’s wants and not really caring for him, being disappointed in him, etc. etc..something important about the beast is dead is that it uses masks to portray those who are “followers” and those who are not. the father, interestingly enough, does not wear a mask. he seems to acknowledge what his son is saying when he goes on philosophical rants as well, but disregards them as nonsense and ends up leaving after bonking him with the stupid spike (metaphor for how parents will shut their children up by giving them a phone or toy to play with).the three other characters who don’t use masks in the beast is dead are Roii, Tom, and Doctor Zoughth (pronounced Zoth). Roii makes a comeback, finally! but this time he’s singing a song called “i love the sound of screaming babies”. it symbolizes how men will impregnate women and then run off, whether or not because they fantasize about pregnant women. it could also be a want of seeing a hurt child (hence the line “i know that all of you watching must think i’m insane, for loving when something so innocent is in so much pain”).however another interesting factor is that, the characters who don’t have masks, aside from Tom and the father, have red eyes at some point. this is a metaphor for how they’ve lost their humanity. Roii, at some point in the music video scene, only has one red eye whereas his other is normal. this hints at how part of him has lost his humanity while the other is still in tact.the other character that has red eyes is Dr Zoughth, but instead of him having only one red eye, both his eyes are red. this doesnt show until later though when he’s taken Tom away from the masked characters (followers). Dr Zoughth is very much self-aware. he is not blind, but simply has lost his humanity. Tom tries to reach out to him, to get him to think differently, that maybe resorting to coping with emotional struggles by worshipping something simple like flesh or something more higher than himself and forgetting his own mortality isn’t the healthiest way to live. but Dr Zoughth, having been long gone already, does not accept this and executes Tom.his own personal disciples grow tired of his tyranny and kill him and perform a ritual of some kind, disposing of his body (in the river i think, not sure). this entire ending of the film is basically the title, the beast is dead. but, i believe the beast is not dead, personally, because someone like Zoughth will always live on in other people, other beasts.there’s also a scene called grandma hespar and i think it implies how little people focus on sexual abuse towards men (when it’s from women).

anyways, with that being said, it’s time for sin nomine.

so now that i’ve explained pretty much all of treatsforbeasts to you, and whoever else is reading, it’s clear that the person behind this has issues with christianity (or catholicism), and child abuse. the person behind treatsforbeasts is Jordan Diniz, as he is also the person behind sanguinarius.

sin nomine is a very personal reflection of jordan’s life from what i gather. it depicts his struggles with how he views the world around him, whether that be due to personal experiences or not. at first i interpreted most of sin nomine to be the story of someone who is lgbt, but with jordan himself coming to me and telling me he is straight (POLITELY), it’s clear that is not the case.

so it most likely has to do with trauma. either religious or not, or both. it even says in the song storytime (remember i mentioned it earlier?), “fast hand, white hot trauma, reverberates inside the skull. innocence and intellect raped, reveals a view of a darker world. flesh on flesh, the bonds of affection - confused for the bonds of submission and fear. self-hatred and mistrust repel all beauty that comes near.” i don’t like to say that this solidifies a personal experience, but it’s highly possible.

a lot of sin nomine kind of goes over the same points in different ways, but it makes you think. i definitely feel like something happened to jordan at some point in his life but that is his story and it’s not my place to truly tell, since i don’t know him personally.

there’s also the other channel, adrianturcher. it has videos with seemingly no real purpose except for there being two videos with the same names of two songs on sin nomine, “nex memoria” and “a fetish for psychos”. nex memoria is just a compilation of clips that seem to symbolize the process of death (nex memoria is a latin phrase which very roughly translates to “memory’s death”). a fetish for psychos is a bunch of old clips from parties and shows that possibly jordan himself attended. they’re from 2002 judging by the date in the video. the lyrics in the song “a fetish for psychos” also seem to hint at these events, so it’s possibly that it’s like looking back on happy memories that make you feel sad instead or something. the song also might possibly reference a mother at the beginning.

sanguinarius also has its own channel simply called sanguinarius. there’s the music video for divine comedy (one of the songs on sin nomine) and a cover of because you’re young by david bowie, posted on his birthday a year after his death.

anyway, that’s. pretty much all i have to say. jordan diniz is a fuckin’ mastermind, he’s really good and cool and he’s very kind from my experience talking with him a couple times. he supports the gays as well!

sooooo, treatsforbeasts does have some very creepy/unsettling moments in its content but its EXTREMELY good and i recommend getting into it if you can. 100/10

#asks #tfb #treatsforbeasts #sanguinarius #ok 2 rb #deerlcorn

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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883

1. What kind of textures do you enjoy most in your food? Crunchy, crispy, soft, hard, grainy, slimy, etc? I love chewing on any meal that involves rice. Born and raised with it, can’t feel full without it. I’ll give a special mention to slimy too, because I love seafood.

2. Do you keep up any seasonal decorations outside of their season? No. My mom removes our Christmas decor by late January, which is when Christmas season ends here. We don’t decorate for other holidays.

3. Can you remember the most awkward situation you've ever been in? What happened? Ugh god. Any time I’m left alone with Gab’s dad is bound to be awkward because he’s very quiet and stoic and I tend to be a vibrant, cheery people-pleaser and nothing I do will muster more than two words out of him...but our most awkward moment has to be when I was at their place and he had to leave to run some errands. I stood up and walked over to give him a hug, but for some reason the floor was slippery and I started to do the world’s clumsiest and longest stumble. As an instinct, I held on to his arm and shirt so that I wouldn’t fall flat on my face. It was terrible and nothing I could’ve done or said would’ve saved that situation. EUGH I’m wincing right now lmao

4. Can you remember the most scary situation you've ever been in? What happened? [trigger warning] Would have to be the time when my grandfather got too drunk off his ass that he physically assaulted one of my cousins, then a toddler. My aunt (cousin’s mom) is a little on the delicate and petite side and couldn’t do anything to confront my grandpa, who went on his rage for like 10, 15 minutes. Certainly felt like forever. Nothing has traumatized me more and that’s saying a lot, considering it’s been 13 years and I’ve been through tons of shitty situations.

5. Do you do anything unusual to help you concentrate? It’s not very weird but I did install an extension on my browser that would let me list certain sites (usually social media) I’d want blocked whenever I have work. I suppose not everyone has that kind of program so it kinda counts as unusual.

6. Do you ever wonder what your parents were like as children/teenagers? With my dad, yes. My mom tells me enough stories. I know her family hit a rough patch when she was a teenager and they had to sell a bunch of their stuff, including a grand piano. She went from living a comfortable life to having to skip meals in college because she only had enough money for her daily commute.

7. Do you think suicide is ever "okay?" Groan, this is so triggering. I’m not elaborating on this, soz.

8. Would you rather a close family member/close friend/significant other die of suicide or murder? Why is this? “>> I think having to deal with a murder investigation would be terribly messy and intrusive, and would add more trauma on top of what I’m already dealing with.” < All of this. You don’t always get closure with murders, too. And I would hate that.

9. In your opinion, what is the worst thing someone could ever do? Raping an infant is definitely up there for me.

10. In your opinion, what is the best thing someone could ever do? Be a positive change or impact in someone’s life. Idk, I’m easy to please.

11. Do you think about any fellow xangans outside of xanga? I’ll change the context of this question to Tumblr so I can answer it. And yes I do, sometimes. Not in a creepy way or anything; it usually happens when I encounter something in real life that I know another survey-taker likes.

12. What military installation is the closest to you? Fort Bonifacio.

13. Do you still open your windows during winter? We don’t get winter but yeah, December is the best time to leave the windows open throughout the night. It’s also a great time to be able to save on electricity haha

14. How cold is too cold? How hot is too hot? I’ve lived in a tropical country all my life so I’m a big-ass wimp when it comes to the cold, even though I love it more. I start shivering at around 23ºC. Too hot is anything reaching the 40s.

15. Would you rather lose both legs or both arms? Why? Legs. I use my hands a lot more, so it would be slightly more difficult if I suddenly had to move about without them.

16. If you committed a crime that landed you in prison for the rest of your life, but were given the option to receive the death sentence instead, which would you choose? Why? Death. I get to have the infamous ~last meal~. Lol in all seriousness though, I’d pick it because it would be a quick release for me, I guess. It’s a big reason why I’m not a fan of death penalty...it’s too easy an escape for criminals who deserve a lot worse.

17. Is there any specific album you can listen to in its entirety and enjoy every single song? After Laughter - Paramore

18. Would you rather be a famous movie star, television star, or musician? I don’t have talents that would make me succeed in any of these fields...I guess it’d be fun to be a movie star though.

19. If you are not religious, have you ever eaten dinner with a group of people that were and said grace before eating? How was this for you? If you are religious and say grace before dinner, have you ever eaten dinner with a group of people that weren't and didn't say grace before eating? How was this for you? Yes. I’m from a Catholic family, so we pray before every meal. I do a sign of the cross but barely, just so my mom sees I move my hands when we start the prayer; but I haven’t recited grace since I told myself I was going to be atheist.

20. Do you think an evil Santa or an evil Easter Bunny would make a better villain in a horror movie? I’d go with Evil Santa mostly because I have no attachment to the Easter Bunny whatsoever, and because it’d be hilarious to see a man with reindeer be mean.

21. Did you ever think any fictional story-book character was creepy as a child? Do you still think any of them are creepy? Yes. That girl who wears a ribbon around her neck still gives me the fucking creeps.

22. Would you rather wear nothing but white or nothing but black? Is there any color you'd actually want to wear head-to-toe? Black. I’ve done that many times, so it wouldn’t feel weird.

23. What physical/mental health problems run in your family? Do you have any of the same problems? I’m almost certain there are underlying issues on my mom’s side but seeing as none of us have ever gotten ourselves checked (and most of them don’t believe in mental health problems anyway) I doubt I’ll ever find out what exactly’s wrong.

24. What is your mental and physical health like right now? They are both doing surprisingly well considering how long I’ve had to stay home and how much everything has turned upside down. I’ve only had two bad breakdown in four months and I’ve since recovered from that nasty fever I got, so I can’t complain.

25. If you found a suitcase (with no information about the owner) with a million dollars inside of it , would you turn it into the police or keep it? Be honest. ;] “>> See, a million dollars is an exorbitant sum. There is no way I could just casually make off with a missing million and not suffer repercussions. It's just too much goddamn money, and in this particular scenario, it's highly likely that it's a trap of some sort (whether set for me, or set for someone else and my dumb ass just happened to stumble across it). I'm not dumb enough to try it.

Neither would I necessarily want to turn it in, because that might cause me to get involved in something I didn't want or need to be involved in. The most logical course of action for me would be to leave it the fuck alone.” < Yeup.

26. Would you rather gaze at the stars or clouds? Stars. The fact that they’re so much farther away makes them more fascinating to me.

27. Are they any foods you used to enjoy but no longer like? Are there any foods you used to dislike but now enjoy? There’s a certain brand of frozen sisig that I used to looooove and would have multiple servings of every time I had it. But I had it one too many times and now I can’t even stand the smell of it. On the other hand, I hated chicken curry as a kid, but I can’t get enough of it now.

28. Do you feel much older or younger than you are? Why? Neither. I just feel 22.

29. Did you get along with kids that were older or younger than you? I mostly got along with kids of the same age. I found younger kids too rowdy and being around older kids always felt intimidating.

30. Do you know any magic tricks? Nopes.

31. How much would life suck for you if you had a wheat allergy? A lot.

32. Are you able to watch gory scenes in movies? Why or why not? For sure. I always want to see how far FX artists can go; and if used correctly, gory scenes can be super integral to the movie. Midsommar is a really good example.

33. Do you constantly check the time? Does time seem to move quickly or slowly for you? Not anymore. I used to check it a lot while I was still in school. Sigh, I miss that life so much. Anyway, time definitely felt slower during the first few weeks of the lockdown, but now that I’m used to it days just fly by. I can hardly believe we’re nearly in the middle of July. So much of this year has been wasted. It’s miserable.

34. Would you rather live in a nice house in a bad location, or a less-than-nice house in a great location? I’m taking the great location. I don’t know if I can last living in a shady area, no matter how beautiful my house is.

35. Have you ever been a witness to a horrible crime? What happened? Domestic violence is the worst thing I can think of. I enumerated one of them in one of the earlier questions, but I witnessed several other cases as a kid.

#survey #surveys

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