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deesseshesca · 2 months ago

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PAC :How will your future lover explore your body ? (18+)

I found a little name for all of y'all ... Bébé d'Amour. Vous etes maintenant mes bébé d'amour (Y'all are now my Bébé d'Amour).

Good morning pretty souls, I'm not a lovey dovey human but for y'all I am ready to do almost anything.

SALE

Until October 31 all readings on my ko-fi is 30$, only

Choose the image that’s speak to you and allow yourself to soak ONLY what’s reasoning with YOUR SITUATION.

Rules and Disclaimer

I am the type of tarot reader to say as it is. Nothing is sugar coated but everything is sent with good intention. If you are not ready to face some truth, you should vagabond somewhere else.

MINOR DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS POST

MINOR DON’T READ THIS POST

PILE 1

Page pentacles, 2 swords (reverse), magician (reverse), page wands (reverse)

Their touch is going to make u reminisce about all the time u let someone else touch your body in ways u settle for. Like u never really wanted them to touch but you were to fucking lonely to refuse the act knowing damm well they were using u. Also they were not treating you correctly. They touch is going to make all the monster go away. All the time you were touch with little cares all forgiven to make place with memories of they’re caring touch. Some of y’all have self harm scars, suicide attempt scaring, they will caress it with so much love and thank u everytime for the fact that u stay even thought it was hard. They are grateful upon every stars that u’re self sabotaging behavior never got the best of u otherwise they would have never met u. Some of u don’t think you have a pretty pussy. Maybe u feel like u’re lips of too big or that they are not the same color as the rest of your cooch. Hey, they will to touch your pussy. Always munching with happiness. Others u are not circumcised, don’t matter they bumping their month on your dick with happiness in their eyes. Some of y’all have religious trauma, like your ex-environment made you think that sex is forbidden. Y’all don’t even like touching yourself. Even though u left a long time ago, u can’t seem to shake those fears off. They are going to take their time with u and respect which one of your boundaries. At the end, you might still not like getting head but u are not going to feel as uncomfortable with the concept of it after their healing touch. Some of y’all have some vaginismus, I see them learning about it. So they can help u heal and respect the boundaries set by your body. I see them introducing the first toys before even going in themself. Until they are not sure u are ok, there’s no jumping the big boy. If you have endometriosis/PCOS, they will stop penetration sex and alter to fingering to make sure not to disturb the peace of the uterus before the big week. For all my pillow prince/princess today is your big day, they love leading. They don’t care if you spend the whole relationship on a pink/blue pillow. They love it for you. Their touch will still be playful. They will love to tickle u. Also they will love placing a hand on your stomach, even slepping on it. Especially my masculine energy, your pump stomach is literally their safe place. They will love giving you a good handjob while staring into your eyes (y’all probably have deep brown eyes) and caressing your stomach.

💌 : Honestly Pile one, they are not going to be able to let go of you. Might be clingy, also they love language is physical touch. Will love updating you throughout the day. If you want to know more about that future love, you can always purchase my SOUL TRIBE membership unlocking all the extra content and extended PAC reading + the audio one.

PILE 2

4 wands (reverse), King cups (reverse), Hanged man, 6 swords

They love to have their hands on your private parts on all times, not in a creepy way. They would be driving and suddenly here u go, being a finger fucked passager princess. If you are an owner of a dick, u better drive with both hands on the wheel because at any moment, they may start giving u a blowjob . If you have boobs, they will have they hand on them all the time. Not even in a sexual way but because it becomes their habit. Y’all might not give a fuck at some point, until somebody stare at u in public. U end up apologizing while glaring at u’re partner making sure to get they hands the fuck out your top. They are very sensitive to your reaction. Let’s say they wanna give u a hug and u move slightly away … here comes the overthinking. If they try a new move on u in bed but u don’t moan as good as usual. They don’t reproduce it. If u give an excellent reactions, they will put that move on rotation. Also if you have painful period cramps, they will message you stomach. If you have to go regularly to the doc, they will always try their best to be there and hold your hand. Touch = love regarding your future lover. They will caress your face when u speak. Tie your hair when your hand is busy. To my burn out babe that are trying their best or my type B babe who is always so damn clumsy, they will always be behind u giving u a hand. Even when u give them head, they still worry about your well being. I’m hearing : ‘’ Baby I don’t care, if u care or not. I love when (moan) u are giving (whimper) head and are comfortable’’ before attempting to tie your hair. After a week of bad depressive episodes they will run you a bath. When they sense that u are starting to distance yourself, they will always have an hand on your waist, on your leg, shoulder any fucking where. Just to keep u from leaving with your bad thoughts. All this stand for my man in the audience, your next babe don’t play about you. Their touch heal making u realize how much you DO matter.

💌: If you want to know more about that future love, you can always purchase my SOUL TRIBE membership unlocking all the extra content and extended PAC reading + the audio one.

PILE 3

King wands (reverse), page wands (reverse), page cups, ace pentacles

Straight from the beginning I’m getting a bad girl/boy from your person. They push everyone away but you. Actually they only see you. They don’t see any other women/men. They don’t even care about their own parents, the way they care about you. Your future person may have experienced deep trauma from age 8 - 10 years old, every night. Since is not the reading for and I did not ask for permission, I will not dive deeper into their lore. They touch = fire, when they lay their fingerprints on u, it is like your whole body is in heat. They enjoy mixing pain and pleasure. A fan of breathing plays because they get to squeeze your neck safely to give you pleasure. Loves squeezing you in general. If you have boobs, will love to squeeze them until it hurts. If you are a man, love to pinch your nipple until they see a little bit of blood even. They will also enjoy putting pressure on your balls while giving you a handjob. They are very experience lover. Probably have 15+ body. They love to play game with y’all. I’m hearing: ‘’ Let’s see how many times I can make u cum in a minute, princess…’’. If you are a man, they will love to eat your ass. If they lose you, they lose everything. They will probably haunt until they find you back again. They will NEVER raise their hand on u and NEVER yell at you. I see a vision of a text conversation.

U : jhabwdbcaw

Them : hey babe, is everything ok …

U: auijdxja party hbduiAHBNDIL

Them: Can u give the phone (one of your friend).

U: But I wannnnnna takcfjawo to u

Them: I know but I wanna see you. Can you please give the phone ?

U: abxda yes hnqcfu

Them: Give the phone, love.

Their touch is very gentle but very practical. Gently take your makeup off when u come back drunk. Gently draw into your tattoo if you are a man. Will casually lift up bridal style when they see dozing off while studying. If you are a guy, will softly wake you up and guide u to the bedroom.

💌: If you want to know more about that future love, you can always purchase my SOUL TRIBE membership unlocking all the extra content and extended PAC reading + the audio one.

PILE 4

Knight wands (reverse), Lovers (reverse), Emperor (reverse), Strength (reverse)

Touch = understanding, will give u a tap on the shoulder to encourage you. Will caress your arm while y’all are arguing. There’s a use of: ‘’ Good girl/boy’’ in y’all relationships. When they see you grabbing the sheet, while they are down to town, that’s when they know you are on cloud 9. The only time they will stop munching even if you have already orgasm. They will love to caress your inner thighs. Pass a sneaky hand on your tits. Loves making you want more, like I see y’all making out and they are barely touching your tits while you are caressing their body. Have a very brat energy. Love to get on your last nerve because they know you will punish them. That’s what gets them going. Has a high sex drive can go round and round in the same day but it will always start with some kind of teasing.

💌 : Y'all are going to have an amazing communication. I sense that both of y'all are yappers. Y'all are messy, you love to call each other at the end of the day and share the tea on what's going on. They will never let you go to sleep angry. I see a vision of you mad even at them but y'all still cuddling. You guy are in silence, they know they mess up but they refuse to leave on your own. Better they let you gather your thoughts with them. They may have a trauma about somebody that die on them in a middle on text con versation. That's why they can't let u go when u are mad. Don't get them wrong, they won't force u to hug them or talk. If you can't handle looking at them, they will tare at the wall, while u are in the bed thinking. If you want to know more about that future love, you can always purchase my SOUL TRIBE membership unlocking all the extra content and extended PAC reading + the audio one.

#tarot #tarot reading #pac #tarotcommunity #pick a card #tarot cards #pick a picture #divination #pick a pile #18+ tarot #love reading #future spouse tarot #future spouse

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bbydoll18xx · 4 months ago

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How Do I Get to Heaven?

'Without changing a piece of me, how do I get to heaven?'

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: angst, slurs, religious trauma, HAPPY ENDING i promise

A/N: hiii so this one is super angsty and sad. I've been going through a rough time, and this is my way of coping. I kinda touched on these subjects in 'She's Such a Good Girl' part 2, and this is similar. I was obsessed with 'Heaven' by Troye Sivan when I was like 15-16 and the lyrics hit a little too hard. If you're gay and were raised in a religious household, I suggest taking a listen.

“He’s a fuckin’ faggot!”

“Hate the sin, love the sinner.”

“Those kinds of people are going straight to hell.”

Your face remained neutral. It had to. But you had years of practice, and while you were internally sobbing at the bigoted remarks, there was nothing you could do to stop it. So you stayed quiet, and you maintained your usual look of disinterest.

Running up the stairs, you finally make it into the safehaven of your bedroom. You shut the door quietly, trying to avoid seeming as if anything is wrong or out of the ordinary. Nothing could possibly be wrong. You were the perfect child; straight As, never in trouble, and you always were eager to help out around the house. But you were harboring a dirty little secret that threatened to rip you from the grips of being the golden girl of your family.

Sobs wracked your body as you slid onto the carpeted floor of your room. What had started off as an innocent dinner had turned into a nightmare. Slurs were thrown around casually, and unbeknownst to your family, you were the unidentified target. Your sexuality was the reason you had become an empty shell of a person, riddled with fear of accidentally outting yourself. And the anxieties you felt were bubbling up, threatening to ruin the perfect image of yourself that you had crafted for your loved ones.

This wasn’t the first time. And it surely would not be the last.

Your family had always claimed to love you. Your childhood was a happy one, but you feared the truth would break everyone. And even if they found out and still claimed to love you, you knew they would always see you differently. Gone would be the girl they knew, and their eager touts would be replaced with hushed whispers. You’d forever be known as “the gay one.” And you fucking resented that.

So here you sat on the floor, trying to quiet your sobs as you mourned the loss of the life you once knew and the people who would eventually turn their backs to you.

Summer was ending, and soon you would be fleeing back to college, where your guard could be let down just enough to show the world a glimpse of who you really were and who you really wanted to love.

There was just one girl who you wanted to love you back.

Paige Bueckers was your best friend. And she was so very gay.

Since meeting her at the beginning of freshman year, she had pulled you out of a darkness that had resided in you since you had realized your feelings towards girls. It did not take long for you to fall madly, head-over-heels in love with her, but you had vowed to ignore it.

Even if there was any hope of reciprocated feelings, you knew deep down that being in love with a girl would mean having to come out to your family. And you were just not ready for that. You weren’t sure if you would ever be ready for that.

The thought terrified you. You knew you were willingly inhibiting a possibility of incredible happiness and love, but because it was at the risk of losing your loved ones, you were shutting it all out.

‘Fuck. I really need therapy,’ you think miserably.

That was the understatement of the century.

The new school year starts, and Uconn’s campus is ablaze with excited students and the possibilities of what is to come. You are finally starting to feel like yourself again, and the second your parents leave your apartment, you don a t-shirt plastered with Diana Taurasi’s face on it.

You could finally get your gay card back.

A loud knock rings through the empty apartment, and before you could get to the door to answer it, Paige is peeking her head through it, a huge grin covering her face.

She wastes no time barreling through the room, sweeping you up in a hug and spinning you around. Your feet leave the ground, causing your stomach to flip, and your legs automatically wrap around her waist for leverage.

“Someone missed me,” you giggle, feeling breathless from being back in Paige’s tight embrace. You had been dreaming of this since you last saw her, back in July.

“Course I did,” she chuckles, voice muffled against your hair. “You glad to be back?”

You groan. “Fuck, yeah I am. Lookin’ forward to not hearing some slurs for a bit,” you say, fist-pumping the air with a dramatic roll of the eyes. “And I’m especially looking forward to not having to listen to Fox fuckin’ News,” you add, pretending to gag.

Paige’s eyes rake over you, and she pouts, already knowing how your family could be. She had listened to your endless rants and your pathetic cries for the past three years.

“I think you should just move in with me after this year ends. That way you don’t have to put up with that shit. Then we can be together after graduation,” she says earnestly.

This was not the first time she had proposed this idea. And while you were internally jumping at the idea, the fear of how it would look to your family made you shy away. Paige wasn’t exactly the most straight-looking girl. Living with her would make things complicated. Your covert feelings had no place in a situation like that.

You sigh. “I’ll think about it, P,” you promise, linking your pinky with hers, as you always did.

Christmas break quickly rolls around, and Paige’s words are still playing in the back of your mind. Your feelings for her had grown, as if that was even possible, and having to leave her and the safety and warmth that came with her, was agonizing.

Sitting against the hard back of the pew in your family’s Catholic church, you look around, thinking about how these people would be okay with you burning in hell forevermore. The familiar feeling of shame creeps back into your chest, the flames licking at your wounds.

You wanted to run and hide. You wanted Paige.

The Christmas activities persist, and amongst the holiday cheer and piles of gifts, uncomfortable conversations emerge, and you shrink back to your room, desperate for respite.

You felt so fucking abandoned. This was supposed to be a time to enjoy with your family, and instead you were hiding.

There was one person, though, you knew would not abandon you, and that was Paige. Her presence was enough to lessen the sting of the inevitable rejection of your family, and in that moment, it was enough.

Pulling out your phone, you dial her number, longing to hear her voice, all the way from Montana. Christmas break could not end quickly enough.

Paige’s smiling face is soon on your phone screen, but it falls as soon as she sees the tears falling down your cheeks and your wobbling bottom lip.

“Oh, baby, what happened?” She asks in a hushed whisper, voice full of anger and concern.

“They hate me,” you cry. “They fucking hate me, and they don’t even know it yet.”

Paige sighs, trying to find the right words. While she had always had acceptance from those around her, she knew how difficult it was for you to be at home, and she desperately wished to take away your anguish.

“I love you,” she stresses. “And I know that doesnt fix your family treating you like shit, but soon you’ll be back and everything won’t seem as shitty, I promise.”

You nod, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

She loved you. And you knew that. But you wanted her to love you in the way you loved her. For now, you would take what you could get.

“Just a few more days,” she assures, and you feel the tiniest bit better.

Just a few more days.

The start of the new year always engenders change, and you had promised yourself as the clock chimed to signify it was midnight that this would be the year you would hike up your big girl panties and figure out your shit with Paige. Your senior year had to slow down, and Paige’s proposal had been in the back of your mind since August.

If you could get over your stupid crush on her, things would be all good and dandy, but your efforts to eradicate her place in your heart were futile. You had mused it over nearly a million times. Maybe you’d eventually get over her, and maybe she would have some bizarre habit that would inevitably give you the ick, ridding you of all romantic feelings toward her.

You could only hope.

You pump yourself up on the way over to Paige’s apartment, encouraging words forming on your lips, leaving a trail of fog from your warm breath against the cold air.

You knock on her door, cheeks pink from the frigid temperatures of Connecticut in January, grateful that it hides your blush. Paige opens the door, eyes wide and hopeful. She always looked so damn alluring.

Your words leave your mouth before your chary mind could overtake you. “I want to move in with you after school ends. I can’t go back to living like that.”

Paige’s features twist into a smile, and she pulls you in for a hug. “Gonna take such good care of you,” she whispers, and you believe her. Your arms wrap around her middle, anchoring you to the floor.

“I should probably tell you, though,” she trails, her voice getting smaller as she takes a deep breath.

You look up at her, confusedly. “Tell me what?”

“I love you. And not just like as a friend. So if you don’t want to live with me because of that, I get it,” she mumbles, eyes trained on the floor.

Your breath quickens at the realization. Paige loved you. And the thought of being a colossal disappointment to your family and potentially cast out did not seem to matter as much anymore. Because here was someone who loved every part of you and accepted the good, the bad, and the ugly.

The look of shock swiftly morphs into one of unbridled euphoria, and without another thought, you pull Paige in for a kiss. It was filled with the pure longing and want of years of uncontrollable urges and repressed thoughts, and it nearly made all the shittiness worth it.

Pulling away, Paige links her pinky with yours again, just as she had back in August. It was an unspoken promise of love. And while you knew the journey would be inexorably difficult, Paige was worth it in the end.

dang that was rough lol but thanks for reading as always:) I really hope this wasn't too triggering or anything for anyone. This has been such a nice outlet for my pain and anger, as I really don't have anyone to talk to about this stuff. I am here for everyone who can relate. My inbox is open if you guys ever want/need to talk

xoxo katy

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x you #paige x reader #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #friends to lovers #angst

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carpkoinobori · 4 months ago

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[†] thursday girl — giselle x reader

[𖤐] 1/1 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]

summary: you debut in SM’s newest girl group. The industry isn’t what you thought it’d be. It’ll be fine, right? or , more accurately: a girl’s guide to breaking all ten commandments.

pairing: giselle x aespa member!reader

to be honest the dynamic is more like the apple x the snake x eve

tags: angst, happy and open ending, literally just angst though, reader is raised catholic

wc: 7.3k

cw: dieting, eating disorders, religious trauma, catholic guilt, homophobia, internalized homophobia, comphet, mild implied sexual content, creepy variety show hosts and fans mentioned, the mortifying ordeal of being a girl

ex: not beta read, reader is third oldest/youngest - middle of five. reader’s stage name is Eve.

a/n: leaving this warning here. I was raised catholic. if you find negative mentions of organized religion upsetting, this one isn’t for you. NOT BETA READ ONCE AGAIN

psalm 32:1-5 Blessed is he whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord does not count against him, and in whose spirit is no deceit. When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord’— and you forgave the guilt of my sin.

——————————————————————————————————— debut.

that’s what you’ve been working towards your entire life, what you hungered for, what you wanted.

since your early teen years, you’ve dreamed of debuting. You loved to perform, to sing, to dance— that’s why you were in your church’s choir group. The advent show, the way of the cross, everything— you were there.

did your parents approve of you being an idol? Absolutely not. They tried to convince you to settle down with one of the nice churchboys, the son of one of their friends. He was.. nice, okay looking. But you just didn’t like him. You dreamt of falling in love, being swept off your feet into happily ever after— but for most of your life, you had never even had a real crush! You must just not have found the right guy yet. It only counted when it was with a boy.

you auditioned for SM, and miraculously, you got in. Your days were spent training, dancing, weighing, singing, dancing, showcasing, singing, training, dancing, weighing— a cycle, really.

you met Yu Jimin and Kim Minjeong pretty early on, and you got along great with Jimin. She was catholic, and so were you! She wasn’t as dedicated as you, of course, but it was nice to have something in common.

you all didn’t get the chance to talk with Ning Yizhou a whole lot, even if she did share a dorm with minjeong. You dormed with jimin, but there was an empty bed.

that bed would be filled by one Aeri Uchinaga.

and from that day, your life would also be filled by aeri uchinaga.

The five of you were called to a meeting. You were a little worried, of course, clutching your silver cross chain and pressing the tip of it into your chest. A nervous habit.

“Hello girls,” the man began, the five of you sitting and fidgeting nervously.

“I have good news for you all. You five will be debuting as SM’s newest girl group, Aespa. Congratulations,” he smiled, and it felt like your world had just crumbled and rebuilt itself, three times over.

“We’ll begin thinking of your stage names soon, so feel free to give us some ideas. We’ll be waiting,” the man continued, and like that, the meeting ended.

you all had to celebrate, right?

The five of you met in your dorm, as minjeong didn’t want to bother the other trainee living there. You all begin thinking of stage names, and your eyes drifted to the figurine of Mary that sat on your nightstand. Jimin was thinking of using Katarina, her baptismal name, anyway! Your confirmation name could also work, but you weren’t sure.

“What if I used Mary?” You thought out loud, the other four girls turning their heads to glance at you, and the figure just behind you.

“Mary?” Jimin began. “Like, the Virgin Mary? Our Lady of Naju?” She questioned.

“Yes, I quite like the idea, don’t you?” The other girls knew you spoke a little formally, never really speaking in slang or impolitely in the slightest. It was your parents, after all. You had grown up in a secluded, small town in America, but your parents had taught you Korean, along with your own interest, reading books to perfect grammar. Sadly, that didn’t really teach you many informal words— not that your parents would allow that. You had to be a lady, of course.

“It seems a bit.. outdated, doesn’t it?” Aeri voiced, tentatively, and the other girls agreed with her. They began giving suggestions.

“What about Lily?” Jimin offered.

“Eden— no, maybe Eve?” minjeong hummed.

“Lilith!” Ning exclaimed, much to the amusement of the other girls.

“Ning, that’s similar to Lily, though, isn’t it?” Minjeong gave an amused half-smile.

“I guess so,” she sighed.

“I like Eve,” Aeri voiced, and the other girls all mostly agreed, although more name suggestions were given out, for everyone.

You debuted with the names Karina, Giselle, Eve, Winter, and Ningning.

you said a prayer every morning and every night, with the rosary that was around the figurine. A small Our Father, a Hail Mary, an Act of Contrition— no matter what, you never missed your morning and nightly prayers, no matter how small. You attended mass on Sunday, and while you usually couldn’t go in person, you’d try to listen to it in the morning, before it was time for practice, or at night, before bed— it didn’t matter how much sleep you gave up for it.

You were moved into a group dorms a bit after debut, Black Mamba being a sensational hit. You dormed with aeri, while ning and minjeong dormed together, karina having pulled the leader and oldest card to secure the single-room.

You and aeri weren’t exactly close. There was no animosity, of course, you two just never really got the chance to talk. It was definitely by chance. Not because she made your heart beat just a little faster, your steps a little more uncoordinated, your words fail. It wasn’t that. It wasn’t that at all.

you just admired the other girl. It didn’t help that you two had more than one language in common— aeri had gone to an international school, you were raised in america. You just hadn't gotten the chance to approach her, that was all.

well, the first night before the debut stage, you couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned, finally sitting up, when—

“Can’t sleep?” aeri’s voice was low with sleep, and she was speaking in english. You felt an uncomfortable skip in your heart.

“Oh, yes, I’m just a bit restless,” you laughed, definitely not nervously. “I am, too. Just a little,” she replied, making a pinching gesture with her fingers, and a smile.

“Why?” You asked, even if it was kind of a dumb question.

aeri was silent, for a beat. At one point, you started to wonder if she was even going to respond.

“I’m just kind of.. scared,” she admitted. “We’re gonna be on display to the whole world, and who knows what’ll happen?” She chuckled, throwing her arms up just a bit. “I’m just.. worried. And.. I mean obviously, I miss home,” she added.

you looked at her, slightly, turning your head just to glance at the dark haired girl. “I know,” you murmured. “I miss home too, even if it wasn’t.. the most exciting place. I just miss it,” you continued. You were just a little afraid you were speaking too quickly in english, but aeri seemed fine. “I mean, I understand. I miss my parents,” she agreed.

you wished you could say the same. It’s not that you didn’t love your parents, but they were a little.. much. They didn’t like the fact you hadn’t found a guy yet. They’d ask you if you.. liked girls. You denied it, you didn’t! You were steadfast in your faith, dedicated, you didn’t like girls. You couldn’t.

“I miss my friends, you know. Sometimes I worry I’ll forget english,” you admitted.

“Well,” aeri gave a grin. “I’ll talk to you in english all you want if you promise to talk to me in japanese,”

you didn’t even speak japanese, but for her? you’d learn.

You smiled. “Of course,”

the two of you tried your best to sleep, after that, but it was mostly you two continuing to talk about anything and everything.

You could tell aeri was going to be one of your best friends. A reminder of home, if anything.

the debut showcase went great, the song was a hit, everything was good.

you and aeri spoke before going to sleep every night— you’d even bought a book about japanese grammar, how to read, write and speak it. You tried your best, but aeri had a nice time correcting you. It was.. nice. You always loved to learn languages, and for some reason, having someone who spoke it already help you was.. a bit comforting, in a way.

you still prayed every night, and aeri would sometimes give you a look, but she never said anything.

everything was going great.

until the hate began

Every little thing you or your group did was criticized, nitpicked, blown out of proportion— and the stress was getting to you.

you had never handled stress very well. You didn’t have a reason to. There was really nothing for you to ever stress about— other than following god, of course, but that wasn’t stressful to you. You had no reason to be stressed about something like that! You were a good person, you hadn’t ever wanted to sin.

some of the comments were about your appearance. It started to chip away at you. The company was always happy when you lost weight, so why not just a little more? It’s not like it would kill you. you were three months into an eating disorder that you called a diet.

the second you got up, you’d pray as your sustenance, head to practice, do your schedules— the other girls would order lunch, you’d ask for a salad. No dressing, of course, you didn’t like the taste. then, as you’d all get to the dorm, again, if there was even an hour of free time, you’d head to the company gym. Sometimes, when you were just in a waiting room, or you couldn’t work out— you’d pace. Anything to keep moving, you just couldn’t sit still. It was taking over your mind.

you couldn’t even eat normally. Any food given to you on a variety show, any drink, anything— mentally, you were counting. You liked to be in the negatives, you liked to skip meals, anything to be better. This was for yourself, so people couldn’t comment on you. You started to come up with even more elaborate ways to prove you were okay, to be better, you practiced more, you stayed late, you slept in the practice room, at times. You begged the vocal coaches to tell you whether or not you were actually good, and as much as they said you were, you just couldn’t believe them.

it was starting to destroy you.

“y/n?” Aeri called, as you prayed right before bed. She stood by the open room door, looking at you with a concerned expression. Why would she be concerned?

“Yes?” You answered, setting down the rosary, putting it back around the statue of Mary that watched over you so carefully. Sometimes, you wondered if you’d made her proud. Maybe if you said the suffering was in the name of god, he’d forgive you. He’d forgive you for the things you had thought and done and wanted to do. He’d forgive you. You could punish yourself, already. You could pray for him to fix you quickly, maybe you could give up eating for lent entirely—

“You.. haven’t been sleeping here, lately. We haven’t gotten.. to talk,” aeri began, sitting down next to you, looking down at you from where she had sat on your bed, right next to where you knelt.

you had completely forgotten your promise. It had just slipped your mind, you never really were awake enough for it, lately, and—

“Are you okay? You’re kind of.. pale, and you have dark circles, and-“

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled, quickly. “It’s just.. lent,” you lied, quickly. “All catholics fast and give something up for lent, don’t worry,” you assured, waving a hand dismissively. While it was true, it didn’t call for someone to starve themselves. You were lying. That’s a sin. But it’s just a white lie, so they won’t worry, right? It’s okay, you told yourself.

“We’re worried about you,” aeri frowned, putting a hand on your shoulder, the weight making you go from a kneeling position to sitting with your legs crossed. “I’m worried about you,”

god damn aeri, and her kind personality, and her need to care for others, and she was just so good- she was such a good person, and here you were, about to ruin her, damn her to hell. You were a horrible, filthy, disgusting person. For some reason, your eyes grew hot, but you couldn’t cry. You simply stared at her, with wide eyes, like seeing god’s light, it blinded you. You wished she didn’t care about you. You wouldn’t blame her. Vaguely, you remembered the first commandment.

the first commandment. Exodus 20:1 I am the Lord your God. You shall not have other gods beside me. You shall not make for yourself an idol or a likeness of anything in the heavens above or on the earth below or in the waters beneath the earth; you shall not bow down before them or serve them. For I, the Lord, your God, am a jealous God

“Aeri, I-” your voice cracked, and you were so determined not to cry, but you could feel your resolve breaking, because you were weak, you were weak to your vices and weak to aeri, you were so pathetic. The older girl let out a small sigh, sinking down onto the floor next to you, taking you into her arms. She was silent, for a bit, while you choked out words that were mostly incomprehensible. She ran a hand through your hair, and was a bit unsettled to feel how cold you were to the touch, but she pointedly ignored it.

“Y/n, you can’t let the words of those people get to you.. they won’t do you any good, and.. I know that’s hypocritical of me, I’m learning to ignore it too, but.. you can’t let it kill you like this,” she continued, voice soft. It made you sick how much you liked her comforting you. What would she do if she knew that you were so disgusting. You wanted aeri, you realized as you held her shirt, with some sense of finality hitting you. You didn’t want her to leave. You wanted her to hold you, and she wasn’t even aware of what you felt towards her. You were taking advantage of her. You were so disgusting.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked out, voice a little choked as you bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to cry. “I’m so sorry,” “It’s okay,” she said, a little confused on why you were apologizing, look of worry on her face. Not that you could see it. You had your head in the crook of her neck.

that’s why you were apologizing, really.

you were sorry that you loved her. You were sorry she wanted to help you. You she couldn’t fix you, no one could. you were defective, and wrong, and oh so selfish. Aeri was such a good person.

the presence of the statue on your nightstand caught your eye from the corner. You turned away. She shouldn’t have to see this.

you could feel the tears stinging at your eyes, the shame, the guilt, the hate— it was all too much. You needed to push aeri away, to get as far away from her as possible, to save what little integrity and goodness you had left—

but you didn’t.

you clutched her shirt tighter, breathed her in desperately, and let out a choked sound. You wanted to cry, but you screwed your eyes shut and bit your lip. The blood was heavy and sharp in your mouth.

You woke up the next day beyond exhausted, but in your bed and off the floor. You surmised that aeri had put you there. You held your head, and got down on your knees in front of your bed. You prayed.

“Mary, mother of God, please guide me away from sin, as you have for so many others. Help me to continue being steadfast in my faith, and to follow all commandments well. Allow me to be worthy of your son, and continue to protect me from sin. These thoughts have been given to me by the devil, as a challenge of my faith. Guide me out of temptation, and forgive my actions, in the Lord’s name, I ask for this mercy,”

you stood up. Your knees ached. Aeri was up, sitting cross legged on her bed, watching you with a concerned expression. “Why are you praying to Mary?” aeri asked, voice light but expression still a bit worried, if not a tad curious.

“Catholics pray to saints as well. Especially depending on their patronage— I mean, if I lose something, I usually pray to Saint Anthony,” you chuckled, explaining the concept.

“What’s Mary the patron Saint of?” aeri asked, softly, curiously.

“Many different things, depending on which version of her you choose to pray to. Our Lady of Lourdes is Mary, but when she appeared in Lourdes. She’s the patron saint of the sick. There’s Our Lady of Loreto, the patron Saint of pilots,”

“Which one do you have, then?”

“Our Lady of Sorrows,” you murmured, glancing towards the figure on your nightstand. The rosary was draped around her carefully. Her downcast, frowning face, her hands clasped together, the feeling of her porcelain eyes boring into your back nearly burned.

“What’s she the patron Saint of?”

“Sinners,”

the second commandment. Exodus 20:1-7 You shall not invoke the name of the Lord, your God, in vain. For the Lord will not leave unpunished anyone who invokes his name in vain.

practice that day went on for a long while. You were all practicing for next level. At one point, you took a small break, drinking water— your heart had been beating quite fast, that day, and your throat had been dry the entire practice.

during the beat change, it was nearly impossible for you to keep your eyes off aeri- or should you start calling her giselle, now? maybe it would be best to separate the two.

you shouldn’t be looking at aeri like that— but giselle was an idol. giselle was not your friend— she was someone untouchable, unattainable. It was okay to like her, to find her pretty, to want- no, no. You didn’t. You just envied her appearance, was all.

Your eyes were glued to her, the way she moved, her expression, everything, it was-

“Oh my God,” you mumbled, eyes locked onto her movements, before you heard the instructor call for you to get up and were immediately snapped out of your haze. You didn’t even remember the event before you went to sleep.

the third commandment. Exodus 20:1-11 Remember the sabbath day—keep it holy. Six days you may labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath of the Lord your God. You shall not do any work. For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in them; but on the seventh day he rested. That is why the Lord has blessed the sabbath day and made it holy.

It was Sunday. It was always a toss-up whether or not you’d have a schedule that day, and today you did not. You watched the six a.m. mass, while aeri slept a few feet away. You knelt when they knelt, stood when they stood, prayed when they prayed.

but you did not sing, no. That would wake aeri.

the girls usually used their rest days to sleep. You always woke up early. You were restless. You hated to sleep. In your dreams you’d see images of a life you could never live, of things you shouldn’t— couldn’t— do. You’d see aeri. No, not aeri— giselle. Aeri didn’t look your way on the stage, hold your gaze for a moment too long, send a wink. The company didn’t order aeri to hold you closer, smile at you more, intertwine your hands.

aeri would never look at you that way.

but giselle would.

you went to the practice room after you prayed. You rehearsed until you felt the world spin, your skin too hot- until you forgot about aeri, and giselle, and the figurine on your nightstand, and the pastor’s homilies, and the way your parents would never love you the same because of what you had done. You danced until your vision became blurry, so you couldn’t see your hands, so whatever or whoever you touched wasn’t your fault, so you couldn’t see their face. More likely, so you couldn’t see yourself, and the body you lived in. You danced until your ears rang, so you wouldn’t have to listen to the sounds, to how your members pleaded with you to stop doing this to yourself. Till you couldn’t hear the people telling you it wasn’t enough.

till you couldn’t hear yourself telling you it wasn’t enough.

till you couldn’t hear your parents words resounding in your head, the endless comments of it being unnatural, of being sent straight to the hellfire, to how it was the most hideous thing in the world.

till you didn’t hear the way fans leered after you, and your members— the stares they’d give you, as you walked, the way they’d clamber for you, so many hands reaching, reaching for you, to touch, to take. it ate you up inside, how badly you wanted to be pure. and how you knew, through it all, you never could be. they could imagine you any way, salivate, draw, take, write it in comments. They even had the confidence to say it out loud, passing comments on variety shows.

you danced till you could forget their words, their looks, what you knew so well that they thought, you danced till you thought your body would give out—

or, conversely, till the leader and main vocalist of red velvet opened the practice room door and rushed over to the the shaking body of their junior, nearly unable to breath, head in her hands and knees to her chest in the farthest corner of the room, brightly illuminated.

you wanted to assure them you were fine, but the cross chain you wore was too tight on your neck, the silver feeling like hot iron burning your throat. You swore if you looked down it would be burning into your skin, leaving a brand.

each breath felt like swallowing glass, and your eyes were unfocused, and your ears were ringing, and your body was screaming in protest of each movement, and your eyesight was blurring—

but you got up, bowed, apologized, assured them you were okay, thanked them, and left.

you had been lying a lot, lately. To your members, about how you were— to your managers, your staff, to your seniors, now. Lying was a sin. but you could excuse it, couldn’t you?

you hoped they wouldn’t mention it to your members.

the fourth commandment. Exodus 20:1-12 Honor your father and your mother, that you may have a long life in the land the Lord your God is giving you.

you rarely talked to your parents. You should call them, more. Or, more accurately, you should pick up their calls, more. Except, it was maddening. You hated talking to them. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself you didn’t, that they were your parents, and what they said was gospel, you couldn’t stand it. Their prying questions, asking how being an idol was, if you kept up with your faith, asking why the media would report on how “close” you were with your members— with Aeri. Asking why you had gotten so thin, and that you needed to gain weight. They would pick and pry at every little thing. You couldn’t stand it, you couldn’t-

the phone rang. Again. You picked up.

“Finally, you answer the phone, y/n,” the voice of your mother crackled, thousands of miles away.

“I’m sorry,” you respond, robotically, like a reflex. “I was in practice. We’re busy, since we’re preparing for a comeback,”

“You always have some excuse for us, don’t you? You can’t just talk to your parents? What a daughter, you are. We’re your parents, y/n, you should actually listen to us, more. I told you being an idol wouldn’t be good for you, and look at you now! Barely any respect for your parents, how horrible is that? I can’t believe you,” she ranted, going on and on about this and that and every failure and everything you should’ve done better.

“This is why I didn’t want you going away, I knew what it’d do to you.. we tried to fix you, but you are a sick, sick little girl,” she spat, accusingly. “You know what you did, you know what you did to this family— that I have to live with a daughter who’s-”

click.

You hung up.

her voice was so grating.

Your mother loved to spout silly little ideas, didn’t she? She was wrong. You didn’t do anything. You weren’t gay. You didn’t like girls, or a girl. They had just been confused. The reason you became an idol was because you loved to perform, not because it was your only way out— after they saw you with her. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t kiss her. You didn’t, you’d never-

the truth was that you had left your hometown because of an incident. Yes, you loved to perform, and being an idol was always on your mind. But you never thought you’d do it, how could you leave?

You soon found out what it was like to live outcasted, alone, treated like something wrong and filthy and horrible. Your parents didn’t help. So, you did what anyone would do— you ran away, off to Korea, off to the harsh idol system

because anything

anything

would be better than living with the guilt and shame, with the knowing eyes and hateful stares. anything would be better than being stuck in that suffocating smalll town, where everyone knew everyone, and all your secrets were magnified.

she had moved away, anyway. Her parents protected her. you protected yourself. You had to run.

so you did.

you had to kill that part of yourself, bury her more than six feet deep, deep enough so that the world would never find her.

You died the day your parents opened your bedroom door and found you with the daughter of a deacon, who helped at the church, who your parents had invited over for dinner, who they had been invited by for dinner. When they found you with the daughter of their friends.

they didn’t know whether to say if she corrupted you or you corrupted her.

they chose the latter, of course, they got to it first. They drove them out of town, blaming that girl for your transgressions. For your sin.

she kissed you, after all.

you just sat there and took it.

it wasn’t your fault, they said to the town. It was hers. You’re just too trusting and naïve.

if only they knew, the rest of the people. Your parents certainly did.

they forbid you from having any friends that were girls over, again.

and you understood. You knew. And you took it.

You killed that part of yourself, that day. Buried her, and tried to forget. But there’s dirt and blood on your hands and you’re still hollow. There’s nothing left of you, from before. Bright smiles and eyes, a cheery demeanor, giggling in secret with her- there’s none of that left.

You’re not a little kid anymore, a teenager with a crush, no.

You grew up. You had to.

and that little girl is dead.

dead and buried, underground.

you wished Aeri knew you when you were younger.

she would’ve loved the softer you.

the fifth commandment. Exodus 20:1-13 You shall not kill.

You know, there’s a reason priests and nuns can’t get married.

it’s because, allegedly, they’re married to god.

so, in that case, is it wrong for you, married to god since birth, by your parents— that anything, anyone other than a boy, was wrong?

you tried to understand, but you couldn’t. What was the consensus?

you knew, deep down. What you were was wrong.

and yet, you couldn’t stop. You tried. But you were weak, at heart. A sinner, with no control.

that was your downfall, you thought.

or maybe salvation.

You and Aeri were the last two in the practice room— you were near obsessive with your need to perfect choreography, and Aeri asked you for help, so— you were here. You had already released Next Level, but the practicing never stopped, obviously. You had to perfect it, make it yours, make it the best— so that’s where you were, right now.

it was late, honestly. Already dark out, and your other three members had long since left. You regretted saying yes to Aeri— you knew the choreography for next level, obviously, you knew the way Giselle moved made you feel something wrong, something dark and wanting. You tried to push it down, though— you ran through the moves together, you fixed some posturing and some other small timing issues, really, it was nothing major. You watched her run through those parts, and clenched your jaw.

you felt hot, and your hands itched to reach out and touch her. You couldn’t be making this up, could you? She was looking at you through the mirror, your flushed face barely visible from the darker corner you were sitting at. You swore you could see a smirk on Giselle’s face, for a split second, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

you hated it, hated how Giselle made you feel out of control, made you feel wanting, made that dark thing in you, shoved deep down, squirm and claw. You felt sick. You wanted her.

“I’ll be back,” you said, abruptly standing up and turning the door of the practice room, practically scrambling out. “Bathroom,” was what you supplied as reasoning, before you got out the door, rushing through the empty halls. They were weirdly eerie, at night.

you walked into the bathroom, the sound of your shoes clicking on the ground far too loud, the yellowed glow of the SM building’s bathrooms surrounding you. You gripped the sink, turning on the water and splashing some on your face. You felt dirty, and wrong. Your skin crawled in the suffocating space, the sound of running water driving you insane, the sound of your breathing almost too much. It seems you were in there for longer than you thought, though, as you stated into the mirror, lost in thought, knuckles turning white with the bruising grip you kept on the sink counter.

“Y/n?” Aeri called, opening the door.

You snapped your head to her— she was wearing just some white tanktop and sweatpants, with a black sports bra, but god.

Giselle walked over to you, with a concerned expression. “Are you okay? You’re breathing pretty hard,” she asked, walking closer, putting a hand on your hip, other hand touching your arm.

your composure snapped. You moved your hands to her face, holding it in them, looking at her with wide eyes. “Giselle, I-”

“Why are you calling me Giselle? That’s my stage name, y/n, just call me Aeri?” she said, a little confused and a little irritated. Why the hell were you calling her by her stage name?

you held her face a little tighter, taking in a sharp breath, mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“Aeri,” you murmured, voice low. You leaned in, and her eyes widened, slightly. She didn’t push you away, in fact, she met you in the middle, holding you tighter, moving her other hand to your waist, squeezing your hip, where she could feel the outline of your hipbone. You hated how much you needed her, the kiss messy and desperate, filled with an underlying sense of want and need.

“G- Aeri,” you mumbled, out of breath, panting against her mouth. You couldn’t reconcile the two, easily. Giselle was the one who was making you do this, right? Not Aeri, you didn’t like Aeri, right?

no, that wasn’t true. You liked Aeri. A lot more than you’d admit. You wanted her. You needed her. You couldn’t stop, now.

“Aeri, please-” you murmured, between kisses. They were more desperate, now, wanting, as she pushed you against the cold bathroom wall, the light flickering once. Twice. Three times.

“Yeah? What do you want?” She asked, lowly, eyes dark and pupils blown wide as she looked down at you.

“Lock the door,” you muttered, grabbing her wrist, tightly, and moving her hand upwards.

the sixth commandment. Exodus 20:1-14 You shall not commit adultery.

you and aeri never spoke about it.

but it became a thing, now.

you needed her like a drug, constantly wanting and waiting for the next time you could have her.

you and giselle shared a room, after all. you were pretty sure everyone knew. and by everyone you meant your members, of course. the public could never know, they’d ruin both your career and hers, and you couldn’t do that to her. you weren’t evil, just weak. just horrible, but not evil. you could never hurt her. you loved her, didn’t you? the way a friend doesn’t hurt a friend.

deep down, you knew. It was so much worse than that.

they couldn’t know the way you put concealer on, before practice. the way you were strangely hot and cold, terrified of her touch, but how the both of you would disappear into your room, or somewhere, together, always appearing back, more than a few minutes later, though the tension was always still there.

the way you had become a shell.

you were ashamed, really.

you felt so disgusting, all the time. here you were, dirty, filthy, robbing someone else, sullying them, damning her, all for your own selfish needs, desires, wants.

you had always wanted, too much.

giselle was your temptation and aeri was the sin, the collateral to the damage.

it’s not like she protested, either, the way giselle’s hands lingered, a beat too longer to be friendly. the way her fists would clench on those stupid variety shows, when the hosts mentioned your appearance, saying you were so pretty.

she hated how they’d look at you.

but you couldn’t see that, really.

you hated yourself, and you had stolen aeri’s sanctity.

it was giselle’s fault, though, you would think, sometimes.

but deep down, you knew the truth.

it was your doing. Your fault. You ruined everything you touched, everything you wanted would die and burn because you were a sinner. All because you couldn’t control yourself.

eve ate the apple, too, you’d think. but maybe, the snake wasn’t just the creature, no, but the whispers of lilith, beckoning her away, promising her everything she’d wanted. forbidden knowledge, godhood, becoming better— and maybe, even herself.

was biting the apple an act of naivety, of greed?

or the blind, blissful ignorance of trust? of love?

someone you loved wouldn’t damn you, would they?

but oh, you knew better. You knew.

you had stolen both of your chances of sanctity and holiness.

out of blind, ignorant, nearly all encompassing love.

it was love.

the seventh commandment. Exodus 20:1-15 You shall not steal.

The weeks went by, in this strange commitment.

you had just arrived back from yet another variety show, and Giselle was obviously annoyed at something. It was late, and everyone wanted to sleep. You made your way back to your room, the door open a crack—

giselle was changing into some sleep clothes. You didn’t really care which. the glimpse of her back, of skin, made you nearly feel ill. You shut the door, quickly, feeling like you couldn’t breathe. It made you feel sick.

you entered about a minute later, to see her scrolling on her phone, with a bored expression. You, instead, went and knelt in front of the small Mary statue you kept.

“Mary, mother of God, please hear my prayer. I’m asking you to give me the strength to-”

your breath hitched as you felt giselle put her hands on your shoulders, leaning into your back, feeling her smirk press against your neck.

“y/n,” she called, a mischievous lilt to her voice like this was a fucking game.

“y-yes?” was the reply.

Her hands moved, pressing along your collarbone.

“You know, I hate variety shows, sometimes,” she hummed, voice so unbelievably distracting. “I don’t like the way they talk about you,” she continued.

“I- I agree, I do, it’s quite-”

her blunt nails dug into your shoulder, slightly, as she pulled you back, just a bit, your back pressed to her front. Her head craned forward, to murmur into your ear. “It pisses me off,” she added.

of course, you tended to her anger. You had to, as penance.

later, when you were laying beside her, panting with tears in your eyes, saying anything that came to mind—

“I love you,” you choked out, reverently, like a prayer.

god never responded to those, usually. aeri didn’t love you back.

there’s no way god loved you. and aeri didn’t, either.

the eighth commandment Exodus 20:1-16 You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

“Tell me not to,” you begged, clutching onto giselle like a lifeline, holding her arms. “Tell me no, tell me not to love you. I can’t, I shouldn’t, I don’t want-”

girls never hungered. They never want, like a boy.

“And what if it’s what I want!” She spat back, acidly, pushing you off. “I love you, and I don’t know why you can’t accept that! I love you, not like a friend, or coworker, or whatever else you think! I’m in love with you, why can’t you get that!?” she asked, sharply, voice far too loud.

you didn’t know how to explain that you loved her, too, that you wished you could love her. You always wanted, so badly, to like a boy, and to love him, so you could hold his hand in public, and kiss him, and introduce him to your parents and they wouldn’t say a word, to be able to love him without just that fact being controversial, to love someone without it absolutely ruining your career. Idols couldn’t date, yes, but they’d survive if they were rumored to be with a man.

god forbid it was a girl.

you couldn’t ruin her career, or yours. You couldn’t damn her more, you couldn’t ruin everything, like you always did-

“I can’t,” you cried, desperately. “I’ll ruin everything, I’ll ruin you, I’d-”

“I don’t care!” she retorted. “I don’t care! I want you, and I love you. Is it that you can’t, or you won’t? You’re just scared,” she accused, rightly so.

“I am,” you admitted, pathetically. “I’m scared.”

She scoffed, clenching her fists. She turned, sharply, turning the door handle, wiping her eyes and slamming the room’s door.

You were alone.

god abandoned you, long ago.

you don’t know why it hurt more the second time.

the ninth commandment Exodus 20:1-17 You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.

it was a few days later, at night after an off day. You had been hiding in your room most of the day. Cowardly, yes, but the other members weren’t exactly thrilled with you. You couldn’t blame them. You were currently pretending to be asleep.

you heard aeri enter the room. She laid down, to sleep. The lights were off. It was dead silent. You turned.

“aeri,” you called. No response.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” you continued, after surmising she was asleep. “I love you. I really do. I’m just so, so scared. I don’t know how to let myself love you. I feel wrong. I’m sorry. I want to. I don’t know how to love you how you deserve, I don’t even know how to love myself. Im weak and pathetic, really. If you knew the real me, I think you’d hate me,” you chuckled, without humor. “As long as you’re happy, though. I’ll be okay,” you murmured, finally.

“Im not happy, actually,” she informed, suddenly, and you felt your heart leap into your throat. “I love you, y/n. I don’t care if it’ll make everything more difficult, or if you think I’ll hate you. I won’t, by the way,”

you didn’t know how to respond. aeri did it, for you.

she got up, walked over to your bed, and made you sit up.

“so can you stop being scared? I love you, and-“

you cut her off.

you clutched her face, and kissed her, desperately. You felt tears well in your eyes, and this time, they fell. You pulled back.

“aeri, I love you, I love you so much. I love you, please forgive me. I’ll try, I swear. Please, just-”

she kissed you, again. nothing was completely fixed, yet, but you both loved each other. You were still scared, of course, but aeri had seen you at your worst, already, and was still here. so maybe, it was okay.

the tenth commandment. Genesis 1:1-Revelation 22:21 Love thy neighbor as I have loved you.

The last few weeks had been.. different.

You had started eating again, or, more frequently, was a better way to put it.

it was mostly because aeri had taken up cooking, and you could never say no to her, and it was kind of nice, really, to see her happy when you told her you liked the food.

you started to ignore the comments online, not even bothering to read them most of the time. You called your parents less, if that was even possible, and started talking with aeri and your members more.

it was nice, to have friends. To have people that you knew cared about you. It was nice to know that people didn’t view you as disgusting, or filthy, or wrong.

you had a hard time viewing yourself, differently, but if someone like aeri, someone so good, could stand you, then maybe, you weren’t as bad as your parents said you were. They were wrong about a lot, you’d come to learn.

on one of your breaks, you had found another statue.

it was of Saint Maria.

you put it next to the statue of Our Lady. You thought it fit, in a way.

you didn’t attend sunday mass, or hear it. You didn’t pray much, anymore, either. but you kept the statues as a reminder, of sorts.

aespa had been doing very well, as well, and you didn’t practice late into the night, as much, anymore.

all of you were currently deciding what takeout to order, and trying to pick a move. no one could really come to a final decision, and you watched the bickering amusedly. You got up, heading to the kitchen, filling a glass with water. Aeri appeared behind you, a sly smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around your waist. “Hey, y/n,” she hummed.

“Yeah?” you replied, turning your head. she had a smirk on her face.

“I got you somethinggg,” she grinned, tilting her head, a mischievous expression on her face, her hands clasped behind her back.

“what is it?”

she handed you a gold necklace, with rose quartz in the shape of a heart at the end, a bashful expression beginning to take place at your silence. “I didn’t know if you would like it, but it reminded me of you, so-”

“It’s perfect,” you interrupted, a genuine smile on your face. “Can you put it on for me?”

aeri removed the silver cross necklace you had worn for years, and years, placing it on the counter. She clasped the new necklace, the gold sitting pleasantly on your skin.

you turned to her, holding her face before kissing her, smiling into it. You left the chain on the counter, a smile plastered near permanently your face. “It’s beautiful, aeri, thank you,”

“Of course,” she replied, with a very self-satisfied grin on her face.

“I love you,” you added, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I love you too, you sap,” she rolled her eyes, good naturedly, but still held you, too. “Come on, let’s go back— i’m not letting them watch a disney movie for the millionth time,”

“So what, you can watch Deadpool?” You teased, with a grin.

“Maybe,” she replied.

it was definitely certain, now, with the silver chain thrown in the garbage, easily.

you loved aeri uchinaga

and you hoped, prayed, even, that the rest of your life would be filled by aeri uchinaga.

A/N: hi guys… so I love aeri uchinaga btw. uhmm so basically the catholic version of the Ten Commandments the ninth commandment is separated into nine “don’t covet your neighbors wife” and ten “don’t covet your neighbors goods” but technically all Ten Commandments can be followed by following the one big rule which is “love thy neighbor as I have loved you” and basically symbolism forever eve breaks all nine commandments but follows the one big one which is like love everyone which means she never actually sinned she just thought she did because she is doomed yuri ☝️🤓

I LOVE TOXIC YURI AND DOOMED YURI FOREVERR pleek send asks+reqs btw I need ideas

#carps works #carpmasterlist #aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga x reader #aeri x reader #aespa giselle #aespa imagines #girl group imagines #giselle x fem reader #aeri uchinaga x fem reader #reader is the comphet religious guilt posterchild #aeri is lowk a little toxic and plays into it #reader is eve aeri is apple and giselle is the snake #in readers insane mind..#just 7k of projection #i love yuri

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paradiseprincesss · 5 months ago

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grave | jonathan crane

i wanted to write something a little more on the "romantic" smut side lol. anyway, i will start to post the song drabbles/requests tmr if i have time. ok that's all!

summary: you decide to show jonathan how much you love every part of him, including the parts of himself that he hates.

warnings: smut, p in v, oral (m!receiving), mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of depression (sort of?) MDNI 18+ ONLY

word count: 2.1k

masterlist

jonathan vowed that he’d never believe in a higher power so long as he lived — he could thank his childhood woven with religious trauma for that.

but theoretically, if he was to believe in a celestial being, his first answer would be you.

in his eyes, you were a goddess walking amongst the rest of the people on this earth. every detail about you had jonathan ready to sacrifice his sanity — he couldn’t wrap his head around how you of all people could possibly love him.

you were like the glue that held his tattered heart together as a whole.

when you found out about scarecrow, he was certain you would run for the hills. abandon him and vanish without a trace — leave him with a broken heart, watch him drown as his feelings swallowed him whole, but you stayed.

he’d suffer in silence, paranoia eating him alive as he tried to keep the ugly part of him far, far away from you but it seemed you didn’t find the alterego of scarecrow ugly at all. in fact, you found it rather wonderful how passionate he was about fear.

fear is a fascinating thing, isn’t it?

even the ones who have an utmost control over their phobias have a fear of something deep down, and jonathan’s was losing you. he was well known to those around him as calculated, cold, and even cynical, but to you, he was an absolute angel.

“tough day at work?” you asked softly, looking up from your phone as you heard him sigh, swinging the front door open. “i made dinner for you, honey.”

as jonathan tossed his suit jacket onto the couch, he stopped and looked at you — ethereal, that’s what you were. after a hard day of work, he was blessed to come home to you. someone who cared about him so deeply despite his flaws and rigid edges.

someone who loved him despite how much he hated himself — not everyone is that lucky, he thought.

“yes — thank you, my darling.” he said softly, placing a fleeting kiss on your head as he made his way to the kitchen.

later on in the evening, after dinner, you joined jonathan in bed after a long shower. he admired you as he looked up from his book, taking in the heavenly body getting snug into bed beside him.

he sighed as he watched you run your manicured hand through your freshly dried hair, the strap of your silk nightie slipping off your shoulder slightly. you looked over at him, smiling sweetly as you crawled into his lap and put his book down on the bedside table.

every time jonathan felt like he was hard to love, he reminded himself that if he was really as bad as they made him out to be — he wouldn’t have you.

my, you made his life — he’d be just fine if his blood stopped flowing. at least he had the privilege of loving you and that was enough for him to die happy.

“you’ve been working a lot.” you said softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. the small action made jonathan’s heart flutter — since when did he become so soft? “i’m proud of you and everything you do.”

it almost felt like jonathan’s heart had been shocked with a defibrillator in that very moment — like he was alive again. every word you said, he hung onto. you were the one person who believed in him; who loved him for who he was.

“you make me so happy.” jonathan confessed, trailing his hands on your skin as he looked at your hand — and the ring on your finger. a symbol of a forever commitment, a love that was everlasting. “my darling wife.”

“you look tired,” you noticed as you placed a kiss on his cheek, “have you been sleeping enough lately?”

“no, i haven’t.” jonathan said with a deep exhale, his blue eyes piercing right through your soul. “work is exhausting me, and the shipments from falcone…”

“i know,” you whispered, brushing your thumb across his cheek lovingly, “i love you.”

and though all things work and scarecrow related were slowly draining the light from jonathan, as long as he had your arms around him, he knew he’d come out unscathed. he'd never been this happy — never felt so alive.

his earliest childhood memories were filled with trauma, but it was almost like you made him forget what suffering felt like. jonathan would go through a lifetime of pain if it meant he could keep you here, in his arms, forever.

“i’m always going to be here, forever by your side, jonathan.” you reminded him softly, watching as his icy eyes started to water slightly.

because without you, there was no jonathan. just “doctor crane” and “scarecrow” but no jonathan. if he didn’t have you, then just bury him — death would be easier.

even though his dreams were violent, plaguing him nightly, and work made him feel like his mind was about to split — he clung onto his sanity because of you. every disgusting part of himself that he absolutely loathed, you adored. you saw to the depths of his soul.

perhaps if it wasn’t for you, he’d be in the grave by now. six feet under without someone to walk through the pains of growing with him.

“i love you, too.” jonathan said softly, his voice dripping in adornment and vulnerability. “i’d be so lost without you.”

his hands reached up to the strap of your slip, already hanging off your shoulder, as he pushed it off completely. he did the same to the other side, delicately unwrapping you like a priceless gift.

you put up no fight, letting him do as he pleased. it was like being in the presence of an angel everytime jonathan was near you, let alone touching you. you were his deep end, the part of him that kept him breathing.

“wait,” you whispered, causing jonathan to pause as a look of confusion flashed over his features, “i want to try something different.”

jonathan nodded, letting you take the reins. something was certainly in the air tonight. you crawled off his lap, and instead, got comfortable between his legs. you reached your delicate hand up to the waistband of his pyjama pants, looking up at him for silent approval.

usually, jonathan was in charge when it came to the bedroom, but it felt right to let you lead. most of the time, the sex was leaning towards the rough side, but like i said, the atmosphere was a polar opposite of what it usually was tonight.

“i need you,” jonathan urged, “just touch me, please—”

you tugged down his pyjama pants gently, and his hard cock sprung out. he was painfully hard from the moment you’d straddled his lap earlier — it was like everything you did had an effect on him, no matter how simple the action was.

gently, you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him gently before you place your lips on the tip. jonathan let out a choked moan as you took him into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length as you stroked him.

you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock, effortlessly causing him to become weak as he let out a mixture of moans and quiet, held back whimpers.

“darling,” he breathed out, “feels so good, fuck—”

you hummed around his length, playing with his balls gently as you continued to suck his cock. gently, you pushed your head down as far as you could, gagging around him as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. jonathan let out the loudest moan yet, bucking his hips up gently.

“yes,” he groaned, “you’re so good at this, doll.”

the praise kept you going, your eyes watering as you continued to take his cock down your throat like the good girl you were. as your lips stayed wrapped around him, his hands reached for your hair, tangled in it as he pulled it gently.

as soon as you felt him tense up, you took his length out of your mouth with a pop. as much as you loved having him cum down your throat, you wanted to feel him fill your insides with it instead. once you looked back over at jonathan, his eyes were wide and he looked like he was in pure awe at you.

he was — how could you look so angelic doing the naughtiest of things?

slowly, you took the nightie off of you, slipping it over your head as his pale blue eyes darted all over your body. every inch of you was designed for jonathan, handmade for him and his love. you kept your eyes focused on him, making sure he was watching you watching him.

once you were clothesless, you crawled over onto his lap again, straddling him as you lined the tip of his leaking cock with your drooling cunt. the room was quiet, the only sounds to be heard was the rain hitting the windows outside. but alas, it was the most romantic, peaceful atmosphere you’d been in.

slowly, you sunk down onto his thick cock, throwing your head back as you felt fuller and fuller by the second. jonathan let out a breathy moan, and you whimpered as he stretched you out fully. once your ass was flush against his hips, you started to move.

“so good, jonathan.” you mewled out, the feeling of his cock ramming into your tight, wet hole making you dizzy. “y-your cock feels s-so fucking good!”

“so tight, baby, my god—” jonathan praised, his hands gripping onto your hips as he watched your tits bounce with every movement you made. “so good to me, darling. just look at you.”

you continued to bounce on his thick cock, his tip pounding into your cervix with each up and down movement you made. you could feel your slick leaking all over his cock, coating the base with your arousal.

“a-ah— yes, yes!” you chant, your mind going blank as you start to tip over the edge. you leaned down to pepper his neck with kisses, and jonathan’s grip on you tightened as he started to buck his hips into you.

the feeling of his fat cock drilling into your tight cunt had you at a loss for words, the only sounds coming out of your mouth being choked moans and unintelligible whimpers. you kept your face buried in his neck for a moment before kissing down his jaw, all the way down to his collarbones.

jonathan’s breath hitched as he felt your lips touch his scars. they were littered all down his collarbones and shoulders. deliberately, you placed open mouthed kisses down each one, sending a silent message to jonathan — i love every part of you.

he could barely focus on bucking his hips into your cunt, so tight and so warm, let alone the feeling of your lips trailing down his neck and collarbones. it felt sacred — the way you kissed every part of him that held a traumatic memory, the scars that he loathed to look at in the mirror.

yet here you were, appreciating every part of him, down to what he deemed the worst parts of himself.

suddenly, he heard you gasping and felt you clawing at his biceps and shoulders, your dripping hole fluttering around his cock.

“are you, fuck — about to cum, darling?” he asked through heavy breathes, feeling you bouncing on him as he bucked into you.

“m-mhm.” you hummed, delirious as his cock turned you dumb. “r–ight there!”

“fuck, i’m close,” jonathan warned, “beg me to fill you, darling.”

“i-i need it!” you wailed, throwing your head back as you gave jonathan a little show, drenching his length. “fu-fuck! fill me, p-lease!”

your begging worked (of course it would) because as soon as the words left the tip of your tongue, he was holding your hips still with an iron grip as he spilled his warm, sticky seed into your tight, wet hole.

the room went quiet as both of you tried to catch your breaths, clinging onto one another as if the other would somehow dissipate into mirage. you felt jonathan’s calloused, warm hands hold you tighter — closer — as you basked in the love that lingered in the air.

it feels good to be loved, doesn’t it?

“jonathan?” you whispered, still straddling him. “don’t go to work tomorrow — stay home. let me take care of you.”

“i already cancelled my day during dinner,” he said, his voice soft, “please, just let me hold you.”

you sighed blissfully, letting your lover wrap his arms around you as you stayed on top of him for the moment being. “always,” you nod, “...are you okay?”

“now that i’m with you — yes.”

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer

@minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn

@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @abprill

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sinofwriting · 6 months ago

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Out Loud - Charles Leclerc

Words: 1,807 Summary: She hasn’t been herself and she knows it’s worrying people, Charles. She just can’t get the words out. Note(s)/Warning(s): Reader is Jules Bianchi’s daughter and Charles’ goddaughter. Reader has longish hair. Coming Out (as Bisexual), Some Self Harm, Not Eating, Mentions of Throwing Up, Religious Trauma. Honestly this fic is kind of me just dumping my feelings out after being reminded of my less than great coming out experience as bisexual to my parents. I’m okay, just needed to write this and uh get back into therapy. If I missed a warning, let me know and if anyone reading this needs to talk, I’m here for you. (also, I promise that Dark Max fic is coming, Charles winning Monaco just threw a spanner into my plans and then this fic happened as well)

Masterlist | Support Me!

She’s never said the words out loud. Never spoke them to herself or others. And she isn’t sure why. It can’t because it will make them true. They already are.

And she knows why. It’s not because it will make them true. They already are. It’s because she knows that as soon as she says them once, she’ll never stop.

The idea of saying them has her shaking, has her stomach twisted in knots, has her throwing up, headaches that won’t leave from all her crying. It’s all self-inflicted because she can’t say the words. And it’s only two words, three if she’s going for proper grammar and yet they won’t leave her. They refuse to spill from her tongue and past her lips. They settle in her throat and strangle her. Leave her gasping for breath, clawing at her throat in hopes that their grip will loosen. But it never works out that way.

Charles is concerned. She sees it every time he looks at her. She’s lost weight, because even though she’s stress eating, when she’s not doing that she’s throwing it all back up, and she cries while doing both. Her face is starting to lean towards gaunt and the circles under her eyes are growing larger. She can only hope that he doesn’t see the bruises on the inner sides of her wrists, on her inner thighs, where she pinches and squeezes, barely even noticing the pain that it causes because it’s something for her fingers to do.

He’s concerned and she knows because Arthur is concerned too. And suddenly Pierre is going to be staying with them for a while, ditching Kika because she apparently has a family trip, no boyfriends allowed, even though she knows from a friend of a friend that Kika and Pierre had plans together in Greece and Bora Bora. Plans that Kika was apparently happy to reschedule.

She’s so lost in her head, in her thoughts, in her wishes that she could just speak that she doesn’t hear the light knock of knuckles on her bedroom door before it opens.

“Pierre is going to be here soon. You should get up, come greet him.” Charles' voice is gentle, always gentle with her, even when she doesn’t deserve it. “I’m tired.” She breathes and it’s not a lie. She is tired. Tired of being a coward, tired of pretending like she will ever say when she needs to and really she should just get over herself at this point. But it’s more frightening, the idea of never saying the words at all then what could happen if she does say them. “You can go back to bed after seeing him for a moment, I promise.” Her eyes flutter shut at his last two words and she nods. “Okay. I need to shower.”

As she climbs out of bed, she wobbles and she can feel his eyes on her. “Do you need help?” She tries to smile at him, but she knows that it doesn’t work with the way the worry grows on his face. “I think I’m too old for my godfather to help me shower.” Something crosses his face as if he’s only now remembering she isn’t a little girl anymore, she’s eighteen, no longer the nine-year-old he got stuck with. “I guess so.” He gives her a smile. “I’ll be in the living room, I’ll do your hair for you.” She wants to protest, but he closes the door before she can and she knows that it’s on purpose.

Charles loved doing her hair and when she had turned twelve for a while it had been the only time she would talk to him about anything, even what she ate for dinner the previous night. As she washes her hair, she tries to think of the last time he had done it. Even just giving it a small brush before they left for dinner somewhere or him braiding it or him trying to turn her hair into some sort of flower before going back to just making it look like a rose. When was the last time he had done that? When was the last time she let him do that for her?

It had been before the season started, just before he left for the first race. She remembers now because his hands were anxious to do something. Worried that it’d be a repeat of 2022 where it would start off good and then end in disappointment. She winces as she thinks of how long it’s been and the reminder of what 2023 has been like for him.

Drying off and slipping into an old shirt of Charles from karting and a pair of Lorenzo’s shorts, she nearly goes back to bed. It’s tempting, the blankets comfy and her sheets soft, but she walks past it and out of her bedroom.

Charles is already sitting on the couch, legs spread with a pillow on the ground between them. A host of hair things sit beside him on the couch cushions. The detangler she’s used all her life that Pascale always gives her, the special made f1 car clips from Max, pearl clips from her grandma and grandpa, the bands from her aunt, the different brushes Sebastian bought her that first year Charles was at Ferrari that only get used when Charles and her are going to be doing this for a while.

Seeing them makes her pause. “I thought Pierre was going to be here soon.” He smiles at her, fond and happy, but still worried and concerned. “Within the hour. But he has a key, he’ll let himself in.” She nods, slowly moving closer until she finally sinks onto the floor, sitting on the pillow. Instantly, Charles’ hands are in her hair, tutting at the barely damp locks. “I will have to take you to grandmère soon. It’s been too long.” “I went not that long ago.” “You went just after the season started. We are in August now.” She makes a humming sound, eyes focusing on the tv that’s turned off.

It’s soothing the feeling of her godfather’s fingers in her hair, running through it, quietly hissing each time he comes across a knot, no matter how small. The quiet apologies that spill from his lips each time he tugs what he deems to harsh, when it is barely a tug at all.

“Y’know.” He begins. “When you were born you had no hair. It was amusing to all of us because your father had been promising grandmère that she’d have a grandbaby’s hair to play with. And my father,” Charles takes a breath and she leans into his right leg a little. “He had told him the whole time not to promise that. Jules was beside himself when you didn’t get any hair until you were six months.” “I was a bald baby.” Charles laughs. “The baldest baby.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs after a few moments. “For what?” She can see from the corner of her eye him picking up a brush. “For how your season is going. Ferrari is not doing well.” “Ferrari is managing. There is lots of changes and this is not the car that Fred wanted for us, but it is the one we have.” “You think 2024 will be better?” “I don’t know what to think other than I can not think about that. I don’t want more disappointment or broken promises.” “You deserve a good car, the best car.” “Perhaps I’ll get it someday.”

As he starts to brush her hair, her eyes wander, looking at all the pictures she can see and has seen countless times before. There’s many, most of family, some of friends, and some of Charles’ time with Ferrari, in racing. As her eyes wander further, they stop on the small cross hanging on by the window. It makes her breathing stutter and she rips her eyes away from it, forcing them to look back at the blank tv.

But seeing just for a few seconds was enough.

“Charles.” He makes a humming noise, his movements not stilling. “If I had to tell you something,” she swallows, thinking of her backpack by the front door that’s got two spare sets of clothes, her wallet, all her identification, and more importantly a spare phone. “Something that would change things, how would you react?” “That is very vague.” He tells her, fingers starting to twist her hair. “It would depend on how it changes things.” “It would change how you saw me.” That makes him pause and she catches his eyes, so expressive in the tv reflection. “Nothing could change how I feel about you. You are my goddaughter, I love you. I’ve raised you since you were nine. Nothing could ever change the love I have for you.” Tears that had started to build in her eyes when he first started to talk, fall. “I’m,” she takes a shaky breath. “I’m bisexual.”

Silence fills the room and she can’t breathe, can’t take a breath, can’t break the silence, as she waits for him to say something, anything. She doesn’t even realize, but she’s started to move a little away from him, ready to bolt, ready to slip on her shoes by the door, grab her backpack and make a run for it. Because she’s ready. She’s ready for him to tell her to leave, to get out of his house. She’s ready for him to drag her to church, to make her pray like she hasn’t already for wanting not just men, but also women. She’s ready.

She is so unbelievably unready for what he actually says.

“Are you still who I raised you to be?” “Yes.” She nods, not even having to think. Because she is, she promises that she is. She is still the girl that Charles taught to be kind, to be nice, to make sure she is always heard. She is still the little girl that Charles became a godfather to. She’s still the girl that Charles became a father to as well. “I am.” She sobs. “Oh, mon bébé.” He sighs and he’s turning her around before pulling her up into his lap, making her curl up against him as she sobs into his shirt.

“I love you so much. You being bisexual doesn’t change a thing. And I’m sorry if I ever made you think that it would.” “Papa.” She cries and his lips are pressing to her forehead as he somehow manages to rock her. “Thank you for trusting me with this, with you.” He tells her when her sobs have died down and she’s able to look at him with not blurry vision. “I’m sorry I took so long.” “No.” He shakes his head, wiping her tears. “You took as much time as you needed.”

#charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #been a bit since i've written a platonic fic #sins fics

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fellthemarvelous · 7 months ago

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Aziraphale hate makes my brain hurt.

Like let's be really fuckin' for real here.

Neurodivergent fans have repeatedly said that Aziraphale is autistic coded. I agree with them. I have never been diagnosed but I wonder about myself. If only I could get a doctor to take me seriously enough to test me for it, but alas, I'm a 43-year-old woman living in the good ole US of A.

Those with religious trauma have repeatedly said that they identify with him as well. I'm one of those people. I endured 12 years of Catholic schools and just as much time being taught a very black and white view of things that I've had to spend more than 20 goddamn fucking years working to unlearn.

I find that my views as a survivor of religious abuse are often dismissed because people keep wanting to say "Aziraphale doesn't have religious trauma." Yes, thank you, I get that, but unless you've been indoctrinated and brainwashed into a very black and white view of the world, you probably don't understand the kind of feelings Aziraphale's onscreen experiences evoke in so many of us. Heaven might not be real, but the feelings of "God is always watching" still stick with me today even though I no longer believe in God. I have entirely denounced Christianity because of my own personal experience, and I refuse to allow people to try and guilt me or shame me for trauma that I didn't ask for. I wasn't given a choice.

As a child I was told that God was real and always watching everything you do (just like Santa Claus) and can hear everything you say and knows everything you are thinking. Do you know what I learned to do in order to cope with this overwhelming and anxiety-inducing information as a small child? I learned to censor my thoughts. I never spoke up, and I have always felt like I was putting on a show for people because I had to be who I was told to be or I would get into trouble.

Aziraphale said "poverty is a virtue" during The Resurrectionists, and as someone who grew up in the Bible belt and went to private schools, I was taught this very same shit by the Catholic church. He learned in that very same episode that "poverty is a virtue" is actually a tool of oppression to keep the poor poor and the wealthy wealthy. I know we all watched the episode. He went into that episode believing what he said, but by the end of it he knew it was actually utter bullshit. Aziraphale is not ignorant. He's highly intelligent, and he has never been too proud to admit when he has been wrong. He accepts that the information he learned before is not matching up with reality.

And it's so obvious some of you have zero experience with that type of indoctrination because of how very little empathy you show Aziraphale for his "mistake" of "choosing Heaven over Crowley" and "making Crowley sad" so clearly Aziraphale must somehow be "abusive" and "manipulative" and "selfish" and "self-centered" because he didn't choose to run away with Crowley at the end of season two.

First of all.

FIRST OF ALL...

Aziraphale has a mind of his own.

Aziraphale is always going to try and do what is right.

Aziraphale is an angel. He's a being of love. And the reason he's so "bad" at being an angel is because he actually wants to protect humanity. He has always loved humanity. He repeatedly has to contend with what is "right" versus what is "good" and "wrong" versus "evil". Yeah, he has flaws. He's an angel, not a goddamn fucking saint. He has lived on Earth for more than 6,000 years. He has seen everything. He loves doing human things.

He's obsessed with magic. It makes him so happy. He's not very good at it...well not when he's trying to put on a show for Crowley.

He chose to learn French the hard way, so even though he knows every single language in the world, he chooses to be mediocre at French. Something that annoys and amuses Crowley at the same time.

He loves to dance even though angels aren't supposed to dance, and dancing with Crowley was what he wanted the most.

He owns a bookshop and refuses to sell any of his books because they are books he's had for as long as there have been books. He will chase customers away from his collection, and Crowley understands how much they mean to Aziraphale because he refuses to sell any when Aziraphale leaves him in charge.

He and Crowley have been speaking to each other in coded language for more than 6,000 years. They have to be very careful about what they say because Heaven and Hell are always watching.

Heaven has photographs of Crowley and Aziraphale sitting or standing together throughout history. Hell had one photo of Crowley and Aziraphale actually working together and it was Aziraphale's quick thinking and how good he actually is at sleight of hand tricks that managed to get that photo out of Furfur's hands so he wouldn't be able to turn Crowley over to the Dark Council.

Aziraphale saved Crowley from being taken to Hell again. He wasn't able to save Crowley from Hell in Edinburgh, but he sure as heck managed to save Crowley from Hell during WWII. He took Crowley to his bookshop and showed Crowley that he stole the picture from Furfur. He saved Crowley.

You get that, right?

Aziraphale SAVED Crowley.

People always talk about how it's "always Crowley saving Aziraphale" because apparently heroic acts are only heroic when they are grand gestures. The sleight of hand wasn't heroic at all, am I right? It wasn't sparkly and showy. It wasn't interesting enough, therefore not heroic. At least that's all I'm hearing when people start with their "blah Aziraphale deserves to suffer because I have no imagination or ability to understand the media in front of me blah", and all these reasons he deserves to suffer is because Crowley almost got hurt.

Aziraphale did that without flinching and I watch that part closely every single time. He's not scared for himself. He's scared for Crowley, and he managed to hold onto that photograph. He did not fail Crowley. He protected Crowley.

And so here's another thing that we like to point out. The way that Aziraphale, an angel who is effeminate and male presenting, an angel who is soft and full of love, an angel who is kind and forgiving because he has empathy and compassion, is somehow painted as abusive and manipulative. He's not violent, but he could easily fuck up your world. He doesn't use his powers. We have no idea how powerful he is because we only ever see him do small acts. He's used to hiding. It's the only way he has ever been able to protect Crowley.

And I'm not saying that Aziraphale has actually saved Crowley before means that Crowley hasn't also saved Aziraphale. Like, you get that those are not mutually exclusive and their relationship is not transactional, right? They have spent their entire existence protecting each other but never actually getting to be together because Heaven and Hell are always watching.

Yeah, Crowley fell. We all know this. We are aware of this. He was the serpent of Eden. He gave humanity the knowledge of free will.

But what we don't talk about is what Aziraphale gave humanity.

What did he give them?

We all know what it is!

Let's say it together!

He gave Adam and Eve his flaming sword because it was dangerous outside the garden and Eve was pregnant and she was already having a really bad day. He showed them compassion and gave them his extremely powerful angelic weapon so they would stand a chance on the outside of the garden. He gave humanity the gift of compassion. It's just unfortunate that his flaming sword became a weapon of War.

And then what did he do after that?

Ooooh, yeah, that's right.

God asked him about it and he straight up lied to her and pretended he had no idea where he'd managed to misplace it. She didn't say anything after that. He told Crowley the truth though. He told Crowley the truth even though Crowley fell.

Yeah, we know Aziraphale has done some really fucking questionable things. He and Crowley both suck at passing for human in front of observant people like Nina. They're not human. They are still learning, but they managed to experience human history together despite being on opposite sides and their experiences with humanity are what has shaped them into the compassionate and loving duo they are now. One of them is not better from the other.

This, my friends, is what we call meeting in the middle. It's why shades of gray is so important. Aziraphale constantly breaks the rules. Crowley refused to play by Heaven's rules. It's the reason he fell. He doesn't play by Hell's rules either. These two dorks figured out how to cancel each others' miracles out throughout human history in order to have more time learning about humanity and each other because working all day every day sucks when there are so many new things to learn and experience with the people you love.

We know Crowley and Aziraphale both love each other. Neither of them are good at hiding the hearts stars in their eyes.

But here's what's really fucking annoying about the Aziraphale hate.

Aziraphale was already crying when Crowley grabbed him and kissed him. Aziraphale is trying so very hard to do the right thing. He loves Crowley. He does. But he also has a duty to humanity, and he has taken that job very seriously since the creation of Adam and Eve. He sent them out into the world with a flaming sword so they would have a chance at surviving beyond the walls of the garden.

And he knows that Something Terrible is going to happen and he spent all of second season trying to figure out what that Something Terrible was while trying to have some sort of more honest and open relationship with Crowley, but again, they aren't human, they are a demon and an angel approaching life from opposite sides who met in the middle and fell in love with humanity together.

He wants more than anything to tell Crowley how he feels about him, but he wants to do something grand for Crowley because Crowley has always been grand and dramatic and sexy and a little bit scary.

Crowley is impulsive and has a temper and sometimes says the wrong thing but he has always trusted Aziraphale because Aziraphale gave him a chance even after he fell. Aziraphale chose to shelter him instead of smiting him while they stood on top of that wall. He knew he was supposed to kill Crowley, but oops, he gave his sword away to the humans so he didn't really have anything to kill him with and Crowley is the one who created nebulas. The Pillars of Creation is Crowley's work and Aziraphale was there to witness that, but he watched Crowley more than he watched the nebula. He witnessed the pure joy on Crowley's face when he said "let there be light" as a nebula full of colors exploded before their eyes. He was fascinated by Crowley.

But Aziraphale is going back to Heaven even though he has made it perfectly clear he absolutely has no desire to go back to Heaven. He told the Metatron this during their conversation. He spoke these words out loud. They exist.

But then The Metatron said this....

The Metatron. The very same angel who told Aziraphale in season one "to speak to me is to speak to the Almighty." He's the boss. He's the big guy. He's used to existing as a giant head and he had to give himself a body so he wouldn't stand out on Earth. And he knows that Aziraphale and Crowley have been working together since the beginning. He knows they worked together to prevent Armageddon in season one, and now he's made it clear he knows they were working together long before that. And let's face it, Aziraphale really wants to know what this Something Terrible is that Gabriel is running from so he can try to prevent it from happening.

It makes sense that he would want to take Crowley to Heaven with him because he would be able to keep Hell from getting their hands on him again. Aziraphale hates it in Heaven. He doesn't want to go, but Something Terrible is happening and Metatron isn't taking no for an answer, and maybe Heaven won't be so bad if Crowley is there with him. At least they can fix Heaven together.

But Crowley can't go back. We all get that. We don't blame him for saying no. It doesn't change anything.

Something Terrible is about to happen and Aziraphale has to figure out what it is. He wants to change Heaven.

He is fully aware that Heaven sucks. He still has faith in God. His faith isn't in Heaven. He deserted his platoon in season one and threw himself back to Earth so he could figure out how to make sure the war between Heaven and Hell doesn't happen.

But see, here's the thing. Heaven is at the top. Heaven has all the resources. Heaven is responsible for the creation of Hell. Heaven is empty and Hell is overpopulated. Aziraphale knows this. Crowley knows this. It's obvious every time we see either place. Both sides are desperate to go to war and will not hesitate to destroy humanity in the process. This is the opposite of what Crowley and Aziraphale want for humanity. If anyone can change Heaven, it's Aziraphale. He's the only one up there who gives a shit about humanity as far as we know. No one else is going to speak on humanity's behalf.

Some of us are so busy getting mad at Aziraphale for going back to Heaven and giving Crowley a Big Sad. Newsflash: Crowley is not the main character of Good Omens. Aziraphale and Crowley are equals, yet we wanna hold Aziraphale to higher standards because he's an angel, and when he makes mistakes it's proof that he's the bad guy.

Holy mother of all things that trigger my religious trauma, let me tell you. I spent my entire life hating myself every time I made mistakes. I've had to teach myself that just because I mess up sometimes doesn't mean I'm bad. It means I'm human. I still struggle with it. I probably always will. So when you say that Aziraphale deserves to be punished for breaking Crowley's heart, you not only ignore that Aziraphale's heart is also broken, you're saying he deserves to be punished for doing what he thinks is right.

Wanting to change Heaven for the better is not a bad thing.

And some of y'all wanna see him suffer for going back into the lion's den that is Heaven, knowing that he is already an outcast, that they have already tried to kill him once, knowing that he is a deserter, that he has been lying to Heaven about a lot of things, and you still think he's blinded by Heaven? You think he's just so naive and that's the only reason he's going back. He doesn't show his emotions the same way Crowley does so it means he doesn't care as much. He's expected to consider Crowley's feelings over his own when making choices. Like holy shit if all of that hasn't defined my experience as a woman with religious trauma in this fucking society. He's expected to be subservient to Crowley and if he doesn't do what Crowley wants then he's being unreasonable and illogical.

What the actual fuck, y'all.

Like seriously.

I'm sick of this bullshit. I had to step away from this fandom because of how toxic some people in this fandom are. It's not chasing me away, but the fact that I chose to hang out in a a more toxic fandom that is already notorious for being really toxic over a fandom that claims to be more open-minded and welcoming should probably tell you something.

It gave me a lot of perspective, and yeah, I'm still gonna speak up against the bullshit Aziraphale hate.

People are entitled to their opinions, but the Aziraphale hate isn't an opinion. It's just ableist, misogynistic garbage. At this point we all know y'all say these extreme things about Aziraphale because y'all get more joy out of the harm and alienation it is causing others.

Keep being loudly wrong, but if you think I'm not entitled to challenge shitty-ass, harmful, hateful discourse, bite my ass.

I'm not the one who lost the plot in this fandom.

#autistic coded character #religious trauma #good omens #aziraphale #aziraphale defense squad #i'm in a mood #like i'm begging y'all to learn what empathy is #like goddamn i know i'm not perfect but at least i don't forget that the reason for everything in good omens is love #neil has said this several times #it's one thing to dislike a character #it's another to assassinate characters in ways that blatantly contradict what the narrative has told us #and try to pass it off as canon #if you wanna send me hate just hit the block button instead #i'll try to be really sad about it #and if you just have to send me hatemail at least have the courage to attach it to your name instead of hiding behind anon #i'm too old for this shit #i'm gonna go back to the star wars tag now #it's been a minute since i went off and today proved to be the perfect day for it

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eves4pple · 5 months ago

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SAKAMAKI HOUSEHOLD HC’S

A/N: I’m so happy everyone seems to be enjoying this au so far! I’m so excited to keep sharing it with you guys! I’m willing to answer any questions you may have :3 and I’d love to keep sharing

Tw: mentions of SA, implied abuse

- Most dysfunctional household. With six vampires it’s bad enough as is but six male vampires? Horrid 100%

- The most unsafe household for Yui, all of the brothers pretty much take great pride in bothering/attacking her whether that be mentally, emotionally or physically.

- Always a fight between one of them I mean it, usually it’s Ayato with another one of his brothers but sometimes it’s Kanato.

- Ayato hates water, hates swimming and sometimes even struggles to bathe himself due to almost drowning so many times as a child.

- Laito is 100% hyper sexual due to trauma but we’ve known this but I feel like it’s a lot worse then we’re shown. Can’t stand girls with green eyes, doesn’t like girls who have a not so natural hair color, and really doesn’t feel comfortable with most women at all.

- All of them fall into the BPD spectrum somewhere argue with a wall.

- Reiji is technically religious not in the way Yui is. He enjoys the stories and tales that circulate through religious groups and texts and has done handfuls of research and time looking into how they (esp Catholicism) work, similar to my Azusa head-canon but, Reiji has prayed. It’s been small amounts, times where he’s felt helpless but it’s happened

- Kanato has a weird fascination with ferrets.

- Shuu and Laito originally played each other’s instruments but both decided they liked the others better

- They all pick on Kanato for his height and then Kanato picks on Yui for hers.

- Yui’s connection to Cordelia is the strongest here. Her and Yui interchangeably controlling Yui’s body is a common occurrence as Cordelia tends to get Yui in danger so she’d have to drag her own self out. Cordelia tends to do this because she “misses” her sons and wants to cause issues.

- Reiji is the worst when it comes to hurting Yui. In this au I tweaked his personality to be more brat like rather than just stuck up snob. His core personality is blank wall but his inner is child like, almost like Kanato.

- Yui and Ayato study together often, and by study I mean Yui studies and Ayato bothers her until he sucks her blood. But this has been an ongoing thing for atleast a few months in my canon.

- Yui literally isn’t allowed to have friends outside of the manor. The brothers have and will always cut them off for her. Too big of a risk.

- Ayato and Laito often team up to prank Kanato.

- Shuu actually likes Subaru, it’s cause they don’t really bump heads often due to them liking solitude

- Subaru and Yui get along pretty well.

- Reiji’s natural hair color is also blond but he dyed it cause he didn’t wanna look like Shuu

- Kanato also naturally had red hair like his brothers and dyed it, he also has green eyes in this design.

- each brother has moments with Yui where they kinda have a human esc response. They have their moments but they’re rare.

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers fandom #diahell #dialovers #komori yui #sakamaki brothers

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doctorprofessorsong · 10 months ago

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Destiel fic recs

Another round of brainrot. I hope they never fix what's wrong with me.

Beggars Would Ride by Tiamatv (Explicit, 118k)

You had me at Aladdin AU. When Dean Winchester is caught stealing, he's given one chance for freedom. Go into the Cave of Wonders, grab the amulet, and get out. Things don't go as planned. Now he's got a moody ancient genie to contend with. But maybe he can use up two of his wishes and then grant the genie his wish: to be free. What could go wrong?

This fic is an absolutely delight. I laughed so hard, especially at the fun ways Tiamatv played with the SPN canon and the Disney movies. But beyond the humor is some really fantastic world building and a beautiful story about finding your way when you feel trapped by life.

Genie Cas is very cute and grumpy and sassy, and it's fun to watch him start to care. And Dean has so much heart it will make you ache. Sam and Jess are disgustingly cute but both are also whip smart and fun. And Jo (Jess’ sister in this) is the knife girl of my dreams.

This one is hard to put down.

Tourbillon Dreams by kayliemalinza @kayliemalinza (Mature, 40k)

Dean uses Bobby's life insurance proceeds to buy a hoarders house stuffed to the brim with cursed and haunted objects. But when he finds a clock that also happens to be an angel, things take an unexpected turn.

It sounds cracky and there is some delightful humor, but this fic packs a beautiful emotional punch. Dean is in his peak caretaking, competency mode and Clockstiel is adorable and entranced with Dean in a way that is just immensely readable.

There is something starkly gorgeous about the way Dean and Cas are physically so different and yet they find each other in meaningful and beautiful ways.

Love Is a Meat Loaf Song by followyourenergy @followyourenergy (Explicit, 68k)

A reimagining of canon where Dean is never saved and becomes a demon. He's bored waiting for the apocalypse when he happens upon a certain blue eyed seraph and they decide to work together.

This fic has all the delightful sassiness you expect of Demon!Dean and especially when he spends time with his frenemy, Meg. It also has just absolutely amazing angel lore and a deep dive into Cas and his trauma. All of this is wrapped up in a soft love story about two beings finding each other and seeing each other and breaking down each other's walls.

It's the entire package of funny, sincere and romantic.

Where there is Darkness by quiettewandering @wanderingcas (Explicit, 91k)

I may have popped this on at some point when it was a WIP but I have to renew my recommendation if so. Dean and Sam are lighthouse keepers, but Dean keeps driving off the third member of their team until Cas shows up. But will they be able to overcome their past to carve out happiness?

This Dean and Cas are so delicious. I am deeply fond of them both. They are fighting against so much baggage and yet they find in each other something so special. Sammy is also perfectly oblivious in the best way. It's hard to explain what makes this fic special except that it is so engrossing, you will be slamming next chapter

Valley of God by ValleyDean @valleydean (Mature, 145k)

I know. I KNOW. The MCD tag is daunting in a fic like this but I promise that while it is accurate, then ending is softer than you think and it's really the way it should end.

So there are a few things about this fic that make it absolutely delicious. First, it really delves into Cas’ trauma in a really gorgeous way. We don’t have enough fics that look at his angel trauma (we can't for me tbh) and this one uses a religious cult situation to delve into it. Second, Dean and Cas in this fic are just so messy and delightful. Dean wants to believe that Cas is good so badly. Cas wants to protect Dean the same way. It's crunchy. Finally, the atmosphere is amazing. It's creepy. It gets under your skin.

Is it dark? Absolutely. But it's also amazing.

The Darkest Sunshine by StarlightOfFandoms @starlightoffandoms (Explicit, 35k)

If murder husbands is your thing, this one is a delight of a fic. Dean Winchester is the Righteous Man serial killer, a notorious murderer who goes after monsters (in human form). People who are guilty of abhorrent crimes. But when he goes after Cas, a professor believed to have murdered several students, he discovers an innocent man being framed. Together with Cas and his team, Dean decides to find the real killer. He just has to pretend to be Cas’ boyfriend until they succeed.

The fake dating trope in a murder husbands fic was a total delight. So was the fact that Dean doesn't work alone and has a full support system to go after the worst of the worst. It's an intriguing concept done really well. Dean in this fic is an interesting blend of sociopathic tendencies, a strong sense of justice, and a willingness to do anything for those he is loyal to. Cas is intrigued by Dean and accepts him as he is. It's a really great combination.

A Weed In Any Other Place by VioletHaze @scones-and-texting-and-murder (Explicit, 63k)

On the other end of the spectrum is this fluffy rom com. There is some angst, but most of it is soft, sweet falling in love along with supportive friends and family.

Cas is a writer. Well, Cas had a book published and now he's desperately trying to write his second while convincing himself the first was probably just a fluke. Writers block is a bitch. That is until his car breaks down and he ends up at a little shop called Winchester and Son. By some weird trick of fate, it's exactly what he needs. He has the most productive day in years sitting in their waiting room. So he comes back, and keeps coming back. The extremely cute mechanic with green eyes doesn't hurt.

Cas is a disaster at social situations in a relatable way. Dean is struggling to put away some bad lessons from his dad so that he can find what he wants instead of what his father pushed on him. Both have a lovely support system. Charlie, in particular, makes me deeply fond in this fic.

i like your shoelaces (thanks! i stole them from the president) by you-cant-spell-subtext-without (ayreisha) @you-cant-spell-subtext-without (Explicit, WIP, 33k so far)

My lovely Tumblr wife is back at it, writing the most delightfully chaotic fic based on Misha's prompt awhile back for President Cas and Fast Food Janitorial Staff Dean Winchester. It's a Cinderella story and in equal parts hilarious and adorable. Also it is a Dean-saster/Cas-tastrophe pairing which is always fun plus there's a 2 person love triangle situation.

Dean's stuck in a miserable job with his only escape being his love of How I Met Your Mother and the Tumblr blog he devotes to the fandom. But when a handsome man walks in one night after hours, things heat up. Too bad the man in question is actually the President.

It's a romp and a love letter to fandom.

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic recs #deancas fic recs #destiel fic rec #deancas fic rec

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redr0sewrites · 8 months ago

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HI HI!!!! if you do ever decide to write for the archangels i would LOVE sum michael hcs.!!.!!.! i would gobble him up yum yum

jumped skipped and hopped over all my other requests to get to this one LMAO- considering he's non-canon i just went off my own hcs soo yea!!!!

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, bible lore™️, possible religious trauma?

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

Sfw:

Michael has lived a long, long time, he's been alive since before earth was even created and has definitely seen some things

he knows that many mortals experience love, yet he never really felt such a strong connection until he met you. of course he loved his "family", but michael was a stranger to true love

HES SUCH A GENTLEMAN! michael definitely puts your needs before his, and i hc his love languages to be quality time and acts of service. he loves having you by his side more than anything, and is always spending time with you.

he's the type to give you lots and lots of flowers! you two probably have a garden that he goes to get flowers from, because he just loves how happy you get at such a seemingly simple gesture

michael is very protective, but not in a limiting way, he just wants to make sure your safe. after lucifer fell from heaven and created original sin, michael had to step up and take on even more heavenly duties. he knows how important it is to keep you safe and he loves you a lot, so he worries about you a lot

he honestly misses lucifer a lot, but he would never admit it. he talks to you a lot about his other siblings and family, and tells you stories about the beginning of earth and heaven's creation. he definitely introduces you to the other archangels, seraphims, and heavenly virtues, and loves that you get along with them. i definitely think you'd become buddies with azrael or gabriel, and y'all would cause shenanigans together (much to michaels dismay)

michael is literally so patient with you, and it's genuinely so sweet. everyone can tell he's WHIPPED, and he honestly doesn't mind. he'll listen to you ramble for hours on end, he'll try more modern food for you, he'll even adopt your music taste once he starts dating you! michael loves you as a whole and wants to enjoy everything you're interested in

HUSBAND MATERIAL. he definitely takes it upon himself to cook for you, he helps you clean, anything you need help with he volunteers to assist you.

michael is SUCH a morning person you can not tell me im wrong. he wakes up really early, and loves watching you sleep peacefully. he makes you breakfast in the morning and when its time for you to wake up, he always wakes you up with kisses or tickles or both! he loves holding you in the morning, but he's a little strict about getting up on time, he does have heavenly duties to attend to after all. if you do manage to wake up before him, you might manage to convince him to stay in bed with you for just a few more minutes. he honestly has such a soft spot for you

you are one of the few people allowed to touch his wings, which is a HUGE sign of trust on michael's part. he usually keeps his wings hidden, but there comes a time when they get so irritating that they just need to be preened. he gets all huffy about it because its "such an inconvenience", and you get to laugh at his pouty face while you gently preen his wings!

i think all the archangels have 6 wings, so it definitely takes a while. michael probably falls asleep halfway through, the feeling of your soft, smaller hands on his wings just makes him feel soft and drowsy. preening often transitions to.... other activities if yk what i mean bc of how sensitive angels' wings are. because michael keeps his wings hidden so often, his wings are especially sensitive and its one of the few times you'lll ever see him blush hehe

he has a really soft, smooth voice, and you LOVE listening to him speak. michael will definitely read to you if you ask, and you can't help but nod off to the sound of his melodic voice. i definitely think most abgels are very musical or at least enjoy music, and if you beg, you may get him to sing for you. his voice is lovely, and he'll sing you soft lullabies in old languages that you can't understand but know are loving

you two very rarely argue, and whenever you do come to a disagreement, michael adamantly refuses to raise his voice at you. he would never yell at you or say anything harsh, and is more likely to opt to just spend some time apart to think on the disagreement. he never lets you two go to bed upset, and will always sit down to have a conversation with you about any clashes you two have. i dont see him as too stubborn and i think he's willing to compromise on most accounts, but its very rare that you two argue anyway because he's so sweet all the time

Nsfw:

michael is 100% a giver in bed. he loves giving you oral and always prioritizes your pleasure over his own. he's always focused on making you cum first and really enjoys pleasing you

i see him as a switch, he could definitely be a pleasure dom but i also see him as a bit of a sub as well. sometimes all of his work and overall stress gets to his head, and he trusts you enough to let you take the reins and get him out of his own head. when he subs, he's definitely much louder and a lot whinier. he's definitely not a brat and would probably do anything you ask him to

he has a praise kink both ways, and loves showering you in praise. michael definitely likes mirror sex, and will tell you to call yourself beautiful of pretty or handsome as he fucks you.

"darling, look at how pretty you are. c'mon, i want to hear you say it. look in the mirror, don't you see how pretty you are?"

eye contact is important to him, and he enjoys a lot of basic positions like missionary and things like that, but i also see him being into lotus position because he loves being so close to you.

michael isn't very loud when it comes to sex, but he is big on talking to you. he loves whispering sweet nothings to you as you cum, and praising you in how well you took him

he isn't ridiculously vanilla, but he hasn't been very adventurous either. while i don't think he's had any official relationships before you, i dont see him as a virgin. he's probably slept with a few people, so he has some experience, but he's still learning as well. i think he's down to try most things as long as you're into them, but he wouldn't want to hurt you too much

michael may feel a bit awkward about sex, sure he knows its not a big deal, but a part of him doesn't want to overstep any of your boundaries either. he wants you to know that he's with you because he loves you, not just for sex and will make that abundantly clear. y'all definitely have a serious conversation about it before the first time you have sex, and you definitely have a safeword

GUYS HEAR ME OUT but i think he'd have a bit of a corruption kink. he'd never admit it but the thought of him being your first is SUCH a turn on, and he really loves when you get so fucked-put that you're incoherent. i think he'd be down for a bit of role play, but only if you're into it and it would definitely relate to some sort of corruption or religious corruption

i don't think he'd degrade you too much, but i do think he might mock you a bit. "oh, you were such a devout little thing, i wonder what the others would think of you now darling. sucking in my cock like a vice, you really aren't so innocent after all, aren't you dear?"

he loves overstimulating you until you're incoherent, but i don't think he's big on orgasm denial. he loves pleasuring you and he loves rewarding you more than anything. the only time i see him really denying your orgasms is if you've been a major brat and have pushed him over the edge, or if you ask him to. either way he's gonna mock you a bit on how filthy you are, but will still praise you for taking it so well

he has definitely bought you a lot of pretty little necklaces and loves seeing you in nothing but the gifts he bought you. the way the charm bounces against your chest as he fucks you, it drives him crazy! especially if theyre gold or if theyre cross necklaces, bc its so similar to his color scheme

he likes holding your hand during sex. its very intimate, and he always gives your hand a little squeeze as he's coming

i think one of the few things he's against during sex is hurting you. sure, he'll mock you here and there, but hurting you? no, its just a turnoff for him. your the most precious thing in his life, he'd never want to hurt you even in jest. if you really, really wanted him to you might get him to tie you down or maybe hold your throat/face while he fucks you, but he would never go as far as to hurt you

when it comes to you fucking him, he loves to be praised and pampered. its a bit embarrassing, but he's often so overworked and pent up that he really loves being treated sweetly. he might cry a bit during sex, trust me he's ok, he just gets overstimulated really easily. michael definitely enjoys it tho!

speaking of overstimulation, PLEASE touch his wings during sex! you'll get the sweetest moans and whimpers from him, and he'll get so whiny. its one of the few times he'll beg, and he both loves and hates when you make him cum untouched by only stroking his wings

aftercare is very important to michael, and he always takes time to clean you both up. it's an unspoken agreement that whoever tops cleans up the other first and starts the bath while the person who subbed takes a minute to catch their breath. he always wipes down your thighs and cleans you off, and when it comes to baths, he'll always make sure everything is ready before carrying you to the tub. when he's subbing, he'll probably try his best to help you but may push himself a bit too hard because he's so tired. PLEASE kiss him and pamper him in the tub, tell him how much you love him!!!!

hes genuinely just so sweet in bed and during aftercare, and overall cares about you a lot

PLSSS THE HYPWRFIXATION IS INSANE. I LOVE ALL THE ARCHANGELS AND HEAVEN AUS SM!!!!!!!!! CRYING BEGGING PLEEEADING FOR YALL TO SEND IN REQUESTS FOR ANYONE FROM THE HEAVEN AUS. the one im most familiar with is @esbellesantos au and my fav is azrael so PLSSS feel free to send in azrael reqs 😇 anyways hope yall enjoyed!!! i loved writing this sm!!!!

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moonflowerdamie · 3 months ago

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rating yellowjackets ships (lowest to highest!) because i am bored and also because i want people to know just how insane i am for some of the pairings in this show‼️ LETSGOOOOO

•travnat—3/10•

they’re…ok i guess? like. i don’t actively hate them, but i really don’t ship them. and yeah i get that they clung to each other and bonded over dad trauma and stuff, but a) i don’t like travis (PLS DONT ATTACK ME HE’S JUST NOT FOR ME AND I COULDNT GET OVER THE MISOGYNY) and b) i fully believe natalie scatorccio is AT LEAST bisexual and deserves a lady lover!!! so yeah. not for me.

•mistynat—4/10•

ok. OK. hear me out PLEASE bc i know some people are gonna be mad i’ve put them this low. i just don’t really see it? like i fully believe that it’s possible misty had a crush on nat in the teen timeline and i’m pretty convinced adult misty was definitely infatuated/obsessed with adult nat BUT i don’t think nat ever reciprocated? and i can’t see her ever feeling that way about misty IM SORRY. i don’t hate the ship by any means, it’s just not my favourite!!!

•jackielot—5/10•

they’re both pretty femme lesbians and i think maybe they should smooch (and then smooch ME MY GAWD PLS ONE CHANCE😫🙏🏻). that’s all i have to say about that.

•shaunanat—5/10•

i just know the rivalry in s3 is gonna HIT and maybe they should kiss and make up about it (AND THEN KISS ME TOO MY FUCKING LORD I NEED THEM BOTH SO BAD🫦). but fr i mean like a cute idea in another world yk? they would SO bully the shit out of each other and then fuck nasty about it🤝.

•crystal x misty (crusty😭)—6/10•

they were cute!!! they matched each other’s freak🥹 until misty freaked a little too hard 😔 no but actually they could’ve been cute musical theatre gfs and i would’ve been here for it!!!

•taishauna—6/10•

i LOVE their friendship in both timelines and i do prefer them platonically BUT i see the potential. i think they soften each other, and allow the other to process and feel their emotions, and also help to rationalise them. LOVE the friendship and if i didn’t prefer their other ships i could defo see myself getting into them!

•lottielee—7/10•

the disciple and the prophet??? uhhh YEAH. i mean laura lee literally haunts lottie for 25 YEARS. that bitch NEVER got over what they had. are they my favourite ship? no. do i wish they’d kissed in that lake? YES YES YES YES YES. the yearning, the religious symbolism/guilt, the TENDERNESS. i am IN.

•lottieshauna—8/10•

BRRSKLLAKSKS just yes. YES. THE PROPHET AND HER BUTCHER😫. their relationship is so complicated and beautiful but i think they could be very special, specifically in the teen timeline. they’re so fiercely protective of each other but would never admit it. they hate each other. they admire each other. they resent each other. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. i wholeheartedly believe lottie was shauna’s bi awakening when they were like 13 and shauna never really stopped thinking lottie was gorgeous. just. THEM.

•jackienat—8/10•

i am a SUCKER for the popular x loser trope and even more so when they’re LESBIANS😁 like lottie was shauna’s awakening, nat was jackie’s. ONE MILLION PERCENT they were childhood besties and one day they kissed ‘to practice’ when they were like 11 and jackie was like ‘OH😨’ and knew then and THERE she was a lesbian. i love them your honour. like shaunanat, i think they’d bully each other, but i also think they’d be so soft with each other. OH and nat would SO tease jackie for being popular and rich and preppy and call her ‘princess’ in jest but would for real treat her like a princess and would beat up anyone who said a bad word about her. yes PLEASEEEEE.

•taivan—10/10•

THEEE IT COUPLE! they are just *mwah* chef’s kiss. especially in the teen timeline! they just balance each other so perfectly, like they were LITCHRALLY made for each other🥹. van is goofy and silly and a dreamer, tai is serious, intense; a realist. they just so clearly love each other so so much and i ADORE THEM. ‘happy wife happy life’ YYYYEEEAHHHHH. i’m gonna be so devastated when they eventually break up in the teen timeline and DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED on if/when van dies in the adult timeline☹️. not even thinking about it actually. just them and their soft tender gay love🤗.

•lottienat—1000000/10•

i genuinely will start tweaking if i think about these two for too long. they just make me so ASKSHSLSLSJSJ😫. i don’t even think i can articulate how much i love them. the rich girl and the burnout. the hunter and the prophet. THEY ARE SO PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER. the bath scene????? DIED DEAD ON THE FLOOR. ‘is that what we are’ GONE REQUIRING CPR. lottie kissing nat’s hands for so long after giving up her leadership, the last thing she had left? SIX FEET FUCKING UNDER😨. nah but fr, i NEEEED them to kiss. they would be so good for each other. the potential is…UNFUCKINGLIMITED (i am choosing to ignore the fact that nat’s dead thank you xoxo). just…the tenderness. the pining. they’re narrative foils. they’re enemies. they’re friends. they’re something more. YELLOWJACKETS…DROP A LOTTIENAT KISS IN S3 AND MY LIFE IS YOURS🙏🏻.

and finally…my fucking roman empire…

•jackieshauna—9999999999999/10•

there is a hole in my heart in the shape of these two. they’re…EVERYTHING. god they just loved each other so much but life and the wilderness and jeff and their own self-destruction got in the way. jackie loved shauna so much it killed her. shauna loved jackie so much she ATE her. they were completely undefinable—best friends, rivals, soulmates. entirely devoted. i just ache when i think about what they could have had. the tragedy of them is life-altering. shauna will miss jackie for longer than she knew her and that fact makes me want TO OFF MYSELF. they are intertwined forever, not knowing where one ends and the other begins. i wholeheartedly believe they were in love with each other but didn’t know how to say it. because of jeff, because it was 1996, because love couldn’t even possibly cover what it was they felt for each other. in my head, they’re together. in my head, they ran away together and lived a long and happy life. and it kills me to know that’s not what happened. they actually make me fucking insane and i’ll never get over them.

now have some memes bc i’m silly like that🤭

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woongisi · 11 months ago

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Brand New God // Choi Jongho

sub!Choi Jongho x dom!fem!reader // SMUT

WC// 3.2k

Synopsis// Jongho was the perfect son in the eyes of the church. It was your mission to change that. Opportunity comes once he consumes you with a particularly sinful confession.

Warnings// blasphemy, corruption, angst for a bit, oral (male receiving), no protection (pls use it even for oral), improper use of confessional booths, dacryphilia if you squint

Author's Note// This has been a long time in the making. Hope my other religious trauma mfs enjoy it as much as I do. Title is an iDKHOW reference. ☺︎♡

---------

Jongho wasn't the preacher's son, but he may as well have been. Never late to mass, always helping the elders, scolding the children, the whole lot of it. Sung in the choir. Formerly an altar boy. The envy of every parent's eye.

He was always excited to see you even if he had to preface his greeting by asking why you missed mass yet again. Despite his general duties and all he was never much of an extrovert. You always felt the air of awkwardness that hung around him when he approached you. If anything gave away that he was happy to see you… it was his glossy eyes and trembling smile that he tried so hard to suppress.

Being the son every parent wanted had its perks but many downfalls in the end. Most of the other people your age had largely abandoned the strictness of their faiths. Many still kept their beliefs but no longer felt such pressure to be perfect. In turn, they tended to find Jongho annoying.

You, however? Something about him was cute. Just how nervous he was to speak to you. The deep blush that he tried to hide whenever he told you that you looked pretty. You told yourself you only really went to church out of obligation, but now you'd begun to think you were there for him more than anything. You knew he was perfect. You knew almost for a fact that he'd never touched anyone else or even himself. You'd love to ruin him but at the same time you'd accepted you'd never get to.

Right?

Something about today was different. Jongho's face was red the second he saw you, red before he'd so much as stood up to greet you.

“Miss! You look pretty as always.” He piped up and almost immediately turned to skitter away. Only stopping once you grabbed the sleeve of his shirt.

“Thank you, Jongho. Always the gentleman. You look quite handsome today yourself.” You smiled and ruffled his hair a bit. “You seem nervous. Are you alright? Are you sick?”

“N-no I’m ok!” Jongho avoided your gaze like his life depended on it. “Lying is a sin, Jongho, lying is a sin.” He whispered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Ok, look! Can… Can I ask you something?”

“Anything you want, sweetheart.”

Jongho swore he'd just passed on. There was no way. No girl his age had ever called him that before… only the little old ladies.

“You- What- Ok, ok come on just follow me, alright?”

Jongho led you back to the confession booths. They were somewhat secluded, given the nature of their use. Standing with your back pressed against the wall, Jongho couldn't even hold eye contact as he stood sheepishly in front of you.

“I- Last night-” Jongho huffed and hid his face. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“Like what?” You smirked. “I'm not here to judge. It's just kinda cute seeing you so nervous.”

“Cute…? Anyway! Gosh! Last night I…” One glance at the low hem of your shirt had shut him down. “Never mind. It's ok! I don't wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Get in the goddamn booth.”

“W-What? First, don't use the Lord’s name in vain. Second… what?”

“Just pretend I'm the priest, k? You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Jongho?”

“This feels wrong, but… fine.”

Jongho sat in the booth and closed the curtains with trembling hands. He'd sat in this exact spot so many times and confessed to so many little sins. Little white lies, things that weren't even necessarily sins that he simply felt guilt for. This time he couldn't shake the anxiety.

Situated on the other half, you slid the small wooden door to the side to reveal the rectangular screen that kept you both apart.

“Right. Now tell me what's got you so bothered?”

Shame devoured Jongho from head to toe. He couldn't even believe he was sitting here letting you play priest. Why the hell was he doing this? Couldn't he just tell the actual priest when it was time for confession?

“Well, last night I had a dream.”

His voice has gotten low. You could tell he was trying hard not to stutter and could almost picture his eyebrows furrowed as he picked at his nails.

“I had a dream about a girl.”

“Mhm? What's odd about that?”

“She…” Jongho sighed. “She was touching me.”

“Like a hug?” You caught on to the fact it wasn't anything innocent in an instant but took any chance you could to hear Jongho confess. This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience after all.

“N-No. She was on her knees, she was dragging her nails along my thighs.”

“Ah, those thick thighs of yours? I see.”

Jongho chose to ignore that charged comment.

“She leaned down and put her mouth on my- uh- privates. And… why am I telling you this?!”

“Just relax. Let it out.”

“Ok…” The memories from the night before raced through the boy's brain. He felt like he might faint. “She bobbed her head up and down. Told me I looked handsome. Looked up at me with those shining eyes… didn't stop until I… you know.”

Jongho had slumped against the backboard of the booth, evident by the creaking. His hands nervously fidgeted with the hem of his striped wool sweater.

“She was just so beautiful, y/n… she looked like a dream.” A moment’s silence. “I mean I guess she was a dream. I just feel so filthy. I've never had a dream about that. I've never thought about someone like that. I've never even-”

You cut his rambling off. “Kissed someone? Touched yourself?”

“Both of those…” he murmured. “The worst thing about the dream is that we weren't married.”

“Jongho?”

“Yeah?”

“Was this girl me?”

“Yeah…” Jongho’s head hit the wall with a light thud.

The next thing he heard was shuffling, the cracks of old wood, and the curtain being shoved to the side.

“W-wait! I'm sorry… just… don't go.” He shot to sit straight up. “Forget what I said. Please, you're my only real friend.”

You swore you heard his voice crack at the end.

“The others our age aren't kind to me. I pretend it doesn't bother me and remember the Lord has a plan for me, but… you can only take so long of being surrounded by old people and little kids before you start to wonder what's wrong with you.”

He was undoubtedly crying now.

“You're probably already gone. Great job, Jongho, you ruined the only thing you had. Loser.”

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Unbelievable. He was what the kids wanted to grow up to be like, yet he had such a low opinion of himself?

He about jumped out of his skin once you pulled his curtain away just enough to look in at him. Though it hurt to see him like this, he did look gorgeous. His full cheeks were a rosy pink, his lashes clumped together by the big wet tears that rolled down his face. You hated how it turned you on. Just a bit.

“Y-you didn't leave?”

“Oh, Jongho…” You pouted and extended your hand out to him. “No, I wouldn't leave without a word. I wouldn't leave, period.”

When he took your hand into his you could tell his body was shaking. Though he moved to stand up, it didn't last long before he was dropped on his knees, hand still on yours. You found yourself following shortly behind.

Jongho was properly sobbing in every regard, chest heaving, his mouth babbling nonsense to beg you for forgiveness. You shook away his hand and knelt to one knee. Placing a hand upon his shoulder was the only act it took for his arms to reach around your waist and pull himself against you, his face buried in your neck, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt like you were going to disappear.

“Jongho…”, You rubbed circles on his back. “Come on. Look at me.”

Jongho obliged with hesitation, still avoiding looking into your eyes. You, of course, followed his eyes.

“I'm no prude. You can't get rid of me that easily. I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. I didn't know you felt so alone, but, honestly… words aren't enough right now.”

You leaned in and placed a kiss on Jongho’s cheek. It was salty, but his skin was smooth against your lips. He flinched in shock but once you pulled away, he found himself wanting more.

His voice was barely above a whisper. “Wait. Can you do that again? Please… this time on my-”

You didn't let him finish his sentence before swooping back in and taking his lips into your own. He gasped so sweetly into your mouth, he tasted like honey and hints of sweetened coffee. Undoubtedly his breakfast.

“Follow my lead, okay?” Jongho was quick to agree.

Based on watching him suck on his bottom lip when he was nervous, you'd figured they'd be soft. They were pillowy, warm, and tasted like vanilla chapstick. His large hand had a death grip on your wrist and you could tell he was riddled with anxiety.

“Jongho, fuck. You taste so good.” You sighed deeply back into the kiss. Jongho's returned advances were shy but undoubtedly needy. The kiss was broken only long enough for you to take his ear lobe gently in your mouth, exercising care not to catch on his studded earring.

Jongho flinched and whined before melting into your touch once more. His mind felt hazy, sluggish, but oh so happy. He’d never dreamed of feeling this way. He didn’t expect to feel any kind of sexual gratification until he was married… whenever that may have been. The guilt he felt for letting you go at his neck in the middle of his lifelong church was immense, but part of him found it unbelievably hot.

“Mmh, please,” Jongho’s hand rested on the back of your head. “Don’t stop.”

“You can touch me, honey.” You smirked and shimmied your jacket off your shoulders. “Wherever you want. I’m yours to explore.”

Jongho was nothing short of eager, with his hands starting to roam the shape of your body. Every stripe you licked down his neck and every sloppy kiss brought forth unholy noises from his throat. His warmly tinted skin blossomed in shades of purple and blue with your manipulation. You’d just have to give him some of your concealer.

“Jongho?”

“Yes, dear? His head slumped forward with a pant.

“Your dream. Wanna make that a reality?”

“What? Isn’t that a-”

“Sin? Mhm. If you don’t sin a bit then Jesus died for nothing.” You giggled. “Besides, it can’t get much worse than what we’re doing already.”

Jongho thought for only a moment before whining and nodding eagerly.

You removed yourself from Jongho and leapt to your feet. “Ok, well we shouldn’t do that right here on the floor. Come on, get back in the booth.”

Jongho leaned back against the wooden wall with his hands bracing himself on the railing.

“Gonna unbutton those pants, alright?” As usual, Jongho was outfitted in slim-fitting black dress pants and a white button-up, complete with a black tie. He truly did look stunning even if you’d never be able to get him to accept it.

Jongho inhaled deeply, watching your every move as you dropped to your knees and fumbled with the clasp of his belt. Undoing it, you waited a moment to fully pull his pants down.

“You’re hard, Jongie~.” You cooed and rubbed the back of his thigh. “Have you ever been hard before?”

“Not outside the ones you get through puberty… or when you're scared for a presentation… well, not until that dream.” One hand brushed your hair out of your face.

“Oh? Sweet boy. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Soon enough, Jongho had shrugged his neatly ironed slacks to the floor. Your intuition told you he’d be big… But fuck. He really was. His boxers weren’t tight-fitting in any regard, but the tent formed in them was considerable.

“Oh hell, Jongho! Seriously?! This is what you’ve been keeping from the world all this time.” You groaned and fidgeted with the rim of one of the legs of his boxers. You glanced up long enough to catch his deep brown eyes staring down intently. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you a bit antsy to be under his gaze like this.

“I got you, ok?” Jongho hummed nervously at your words.

Your hand moved across the form of his dick just enough to give him an idea of what to expect from this. The way he jolted was enough to let you know he enjoyed it. You rubbed your hand over him with a flat palm and relished in the girth you could already tell he possessed underneath the fabric.

“You’re so fucking big, damn, did you even realize that?” Jongho shook his head feverishly.

“N-no… am I really?” Jongho felt his heart skip a beat, his hand hovering over you.

You could feel his presence over you and grabbed his hand, moved it to your hair, and gave it a reassuring pat. His fingers scratched at your scalp as if on instinct, soothing himself to the feeling. Every movement of your palm sent electric shocks up his spine.

Deciding it was due time for more, you inquired as to whether you could remove his boxers… met with an overwhelming agreeance. His cock sprung from under the confines of his underwear, causing him to wince at the newly cold air. His length was nothing to laugh at, you’d be a fool not to note the considerable circumference and upward curve as well. He was unshaven as you expected with curly black-brown hair over the expanse of his balls and above the base of his dick. He had a rather prominent happy trail which, fittingly, made you incredibly happy. He was circumcised with the skin around the head a shade lighter than the rest. The tip glistened with pre-cum in the dim light. Jongho squirmed under your watch.

“I-is something wrong? Do you not want to anymore…?”

“I… I’m kind of in shock honestly. Your dick is almost as pretty as you… almost.”

Jongho whined and gripped your hair lightly in response. Your free hand caressed the expanse of his firm thighs, the other encasing the head of his dick.

“A-ah, careful!” Jongho resisted the need to buck his hips against your touch. “I-I’m sensitive. Really.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, gathered a considerable amount of drool in the space of your cheeks, and let it run down onto him. The warm sensation melted the boy’s mind. You gave him a few languid strokes to spread the makeshift lube along the length of his shaft. Using three fingers, you rubbed a deliberate line up the prominent vein situated on the underside of his cock. Jongho’s labored breathing filled the confined space with need.

“Such a pretty thing, you are.” You purred and left a quick peck just below Jongho’s navel. “Such a needy boy.” Your movements matched up with your strokes and fondles.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Don’t worry about replying, babe. Just listen to me.”

Jongho stroked your cheek with trembling hands. “You’re so beautiful.” His words almost carried a pout and made your heart melt. They felt sincere. Like you could trust them. He meant it outside the heat of the moment.

You met Jongho’s gaze tenderly. “So, you meant it all those times, didn’t you? All the times you greeted me before mass?”

Jongho’s voice was velvety smooth in his response. “Of course I did. Even besides lying being a sin… I’ve always thought so from the first time I saw you. Always…”

“Oh, Jongho… Jongho by the time I’m done with you, you’re only going to want to worship to me.”

Feeling you’d worked him up enough by now, you took his cock into your mouth, giving him time to adjust to the new feeling. You hollowed your cheeks and sunk your head further down around him, embracing the struggle once his length hit the back of your throat. Your gag panicked Jongho, urging him to nervously make sure you’re okay. You lent him a reassuring rub to his thigh, taking his cock back into your mouth with a hum.

Jongho’s grip on your hair tightened in congruence with his loudening moans. He felt as if he might die. He felt he might’ve already died because could heaven be any better than his current situation? He wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Feels so good, y/n, so good.” Jongho’s voice broke toward the end of his statement. You took into consideration how he wasn't used to this, planning every ministration carefully to ensure he enjoyed each moment that he lasted.

Introducing a hand to the mix, you wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his cock. This gave you a bit of stability in leverage so that you could swirl your tongue all over. Around the tip, tease the slit of his head, gently over the thin band of skin below it. You pulled back from his cock with a pop to catch your breath.

“Doing ok, Jongho?” You sighed and rested your cheek against his thigh for a moment.

His head was thrown back to rest against the wood of the booth, forehead damp with sweat. He granted you a thumbs up which you found incredibly in character.

“Cum whenever you're ready, alright? Just let me know.” You lowered yourself down a bit further in order to take one of his balls into your mouth. With one hand twisting and tugging at his cock, you knew he wouldn't take much longer to bust. It seemed you were right, whimpers filling the space around the two of you.

“Close-” Jongho groaned and desperately reached for your hand that was grasping at his toned thighs. You accept his advance, intertwining your fingers with his and squeezing reassuringly. His nails digging into the skin of your hand and his breath fully catching in his throat was the last sign you needed.

Swiftly, your mouth sank back around Jongho just in time for his climax. White hot cum coated the inside of your mouth, plenty of it, that had undoubtedly been waiting since his dream. You wondered briefly how uncomfortable it was for his balls to have been so full. Once Jongho came back down to reality enough, the gravity of what you'd done set in on him.

“You… you swallowed it?!” He gasped, shocked that was even a possibility.

“Mm,” You popped off of his length and shook your head. Opening your mouth wide so he could see his load pooling on your tongue, you made a show of swallowing every last drop. “Now I did.”

After a moment of silence Jongho cocked his head to the side. “Does it, uh, taste good?”

“Only because it's yours.”

Helping Jongho clean up with tissues you kept in your purse, you let him buckle his belt and help you to your feet.

“Don't you want anything in return?”

“Only for you to be mine and only mine.”

“O-Oh, I can do that. But what about your…?”

“Let's wait ‘til mass actually ends. They're gonna wonder where we've been. Come on, Jjongie.”

Anticipation shivered up his spine, taking your hand into his own to lead you to the doorway that opened to the main hall of the church.

Jongho took the initiative to kiss you tenderly. “I'll make up some excuse on the spot.”

“Deal.”

#jongho smut #ateez smut #choi jongho smut #ateez jongho smut #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #jongho imagines #jongho fic #jongho fanfic #ateez scenarios #[jo fucks ateez 🏴‍☠️]

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pastafossa · 5 months ago

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TW for those with religious trauma. A little long and just about something personal so putting it behind the cut, but basically:

I got to set a boundary and say No today, and that's huge.

I'm still mildly on FB to keep up with older friends and fam and events, and a few groups where I learn things generally from older folks (trust me, the old woodcarving guys aren't usually on tiktok). And let's just say I'm... very obviously not a Christian over there - not rude, not attacking, just happily on my own path. And there was this lady, who apparently had known me when I was 5 or so and had somehow stuck around. She had recently taken it upon herself to evangelize and 'bring me back' by repeatedly bringing up me loving Jesus at 5, and talking about God at me, and I am loved by him and etc etc don't you still talk to him, Pasta? Maybe that's why I remember you talking to him when you were little, so he can reach you through me, aren't you afraid Pasta that he's reaching for you and you'll miss it, etc etc.

Now I was raised strongly christian. The whole shebang. Christian elementary school, church every Sunday, youth groups on Wednesday, radio set to a christian station, etc. I'd heard these lines, believed those lines, said those lines for a long time. And even though my family was chill (one reason I wound up feeling supported enough to leave the church as an adult), I'm still unpacking a lot of that trauma. And one bit is my inability to set boundaries. Girls and women must always be polite, kind, and nice no matter what. Respect your elders when they speak. You are to be the sacred little vessel of the light and always be ready and willing to explain and advocate your beliefs even if someone's being mean, don't walk away. If someone asks you to help with something you don't want to do, you do it anyway, because your happiness and comfort doesn't matter, you are meant to serve.

I mentioned this while chatting with a group of friends the other night - I told them about this woman who'd been targeting me, and the bad memories it brought up and the ensuing anxiety attack when a bunch of things stacked a few weeks ago. And one of my friends turned and looked at me and gently said, 'why haven't you unfriended her?'

And I... paused at that. Why? Why hadn't I? Because this woman didn't 'intend' to be mean? Because I wanted to try to 'represent' something? Because I used to know her? Because I was afraid to be judged as rude? Because... my comfort and happiness didn't matter? Why on earth hadn't I?

Because... my comfort and happiness does matter. And I was being disrespected. It doesn't matter if I'm seen as rude. I'm allowed to say, 'no, you don't get to treat me like that.'

I... am allowed to cut someone off, even if they find that mean.

Even if they knew me when I was little.

Even if they have positive intent.

I don't have to give those people access to me if they're hurting me and trying to scare me.

And so I got home, and I rolled through that old list, and I culled it. Out went the people who I got a sick feeling thinking about. Out went the people who'd never really respected me. Out went the people who saw me as a trophy they could win by 'bringing me back'.

I said no to all of that.

I can say no.

And I know that seems small. But it feels like a giant leap for me.

#tw: religious trauma #pasta life update #i am STILL processing a lot of things but my frequent struggle to set boundaries is one of them #it's easier with people who can't throw childhood memories in your face #but even when it's a stranger i can struggle #but that epiphany just hit like 'wait i can so no. i don't have to let her do this to me. she's hurting me and I can walk away'.#and then i did it and i swear i got this RUSH #i feel really really good about it

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ikkleosu · 2 months ago

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Is Isabelle a "fix it fic" for Leah?

(Running back to my first love tumblr because I will not pay Elon to use more words)

So with the release of Isabelle's character bio, confirming Isabelle has romantic feelings for Daryl, it leads me to think more about what I've been suspecting for some time - that Isabelle's story was created to redo the Leah arc from s11, but this time do it right.

So, when we look at the Leah story from Find Me, it's very clear to most people that there was a story there that was meant to go someplace, relating to Carol and Daryl's relationship, that for whatever reason got canned.

There's the obvious parallels they drew with Carol and Leah (repeated dialogue etc), there's the knife that passed from Leah to Daryl to Carol and we were told was going to be significant - and was then never mentioned again. And of course, there's the fight at the end of Find Me that was never resolved on screen.

I think it's safe to say that was all leading somewhere, but because of COVID or the show being cancelled or Melissa leaving the spinoff, or some combination we don't know about - the conclusions from the Leah storyline were dropped, and it left a whole lot of unresolved stuff between Carol and Daryl.

We know Melissa and Norman have both talked about wanting the spin-off to delve into stuff from the main show that wasn't dealt with, and to give time to stuff they felt was rushed over. It's not much of a leap to assume the Leah story is one of those things, especially when we know form Angela Kang's own words that Norman was VERY MUCH not a fan of the Leah plot. So much so he asked for Daryl to kill her at the end of the Reaper arc.

So what if, the Leah storyline was intended to give us greater insight into the Caryl relationship, and specifically Daryl's feelings towards Carol? And Norman, along with the audience was frustrated that instead Leah just killed everything he's said about Daryl's attitude to love and sex, for absolutely no reason.

It's easy then to understand why Norman might want a redo of that chance to tell a similar story but with the resolution that was originally intended.

And so, we have Isabelle. Now, obviously, she's a very different character to Leah... but really, is she?

Both have fallen into a religious cult that helps them deal with their own trauma, and gives them a sense of family they were missing.

Both adopted their sister's child as their own (Leah lost hers, but Isabelle is drive by protecting hers)

Both manipulate Daryl and lie to him to keep him by their side.

Both, ultimately, ask Daryl to make a choice between going back to his family, or staying with them.

I think these similarities are deliberate. And I suspect there will be more similarities once we see season 2 - it looks as if they are both held captive by Genet, and may have similar through the wall conversations to Daryl and Leah when the Reapers held him captive.

So if we assume this is deliberate, we can also assume dialogue references are deliberate. Isabelle tells Daryl she doesn't need a hero - a line that goes back to Leah saying he always has to be the hero, and Carol saying she didn't need a hero during the fight in Find Me.

We also have the starts of the "making it right" dialogue when Isabelle asks Daryl if he could be happy there, and he says he doesn't know if this is where he should be - like Leah asking him where he belonged and he was unsure, but then said "I belong with you". This time, Daryl isn't going to ever say "I belong with you" to Isabelle, because as he said in Find Me he knows where he belongs.

Isabelle having feelings for Daryl is not for nothing. It will - if this speculation is correct - be a chance for things to be set right. If she has feelings she will somehow, at some point, express them. And that is where the storyline will "diverge" (see what I did there?) from the Leah storyline, and this time Daryl will be able to tell Isabelle "why not".

It will resolve the Connie question too, in that way, which was also never answered. Why don't you want to make a move on Connie? And why don't you respond to Isabelle's feelings?

Both are for the same reason, and it feels like this is the chance to finally say it.

I should add that

a) i suspect this will be cliffhanger throughout the season, and will play out like "Daryl's promise" from s1 where we won't know the answer, and it will all be opaque until episode 5 or 6

b) My understanding of the whys this might be happening, and why they gave Isabelle romantic feelings for Daryl, does not mean I like it or I would have chosen this route. I would not.

#caryl #twdcaryl #tboc

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mikimakiboo · 3 months ago

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Ghosts & Medium AU by @ancha-aus :3

I'M FINALLY DOOOONE I was busy so I couldn't finish sooner :(

A nice AU idea where Dust is a medium and goes to haunted places to help the ghosts leave and rest in peace :)

Until he finds Killer, a very flirty and clingy ghost who seems to have fallen in love with him at first sight

The post that started it all

And my interpretation of everyone's backstories under the cut !

Tw: mention of torture, death, starvation, possession, religious trauma, sect

Medium Dust

( official backstory )

He had a rough childhood, being bullied most of his life because he kept saying he "could talk to ghosts", that made him the weird kid

He can really talk to ghosts tho, but it depends on how strong the ghost is, if it is a weak ghost he will need material to be able to communicate with them, but if the ghost is strong (like his brother, Killer, Horror and Cross) he will be able to see and talk to them without any material needed

He later decided to use this ability to work as an exorcist and soon became popular as he was one of the rare ghost hunters to actually have good results and not doing it for tv

That's when he met Killer, and regretted chosing this job

He used to be a lone wolf, only talking to his dead brother who never left his side after Dust failed to reanimate his body after studying necromancy, but now he is a tired guy trying to monitor four ghosts and a demon, and killing himself isn't an option for a very obvious reason that is: he would become a ghost too

Ghost Killer

( official backstory )

I wrote his backstory in an ask before making this post

Quick summary: Killer was a hitman who killed a very important man (possibly mafia boss), the man's family got mad, kidnapped him, kept him tied up in their cave to torture him and make him pay for the murder, and ended up leaving him to die in an abandoned train wagon, still tied up so he wouldn't escape, due to that Killer is deeply afraid of loneliness and ropes (and just restraints in general)

He caught an interest in Dust because for the first time someone wanted to know him, and having been manipulated all his life the fact that Dust asked him things about himself and listened to what he had to say made him fall for him in an instant

He then swore to stay by his side no matter what ! Dust is not happy about that

Priest Cross

( official backstory )

Cross is the priest of the universe !

Why did he become a priest ? To please his father, and as a punishment too

Cross's father, XGaster, didn't like that his son was bisexual and after trying many conversion therapies he forced him to go to the church and become a priest so that he would devote his life to God, never take a partner, and hopefully quit being bi

Cross, of course, got influenced by his father's opinions and thinks that being a priest is the best choice, he got traumatized by the therapies and genuinely thinks that being bi is a sin and that he will burn in hell of he ever feels attracted to a man

Needless to say he didn't take it well when he realized he was attracted to FOUR men, one of them being a demon, two of them being dead, and one of them (Killer) having possessed his body to flirt with Dust (Cross was supposed to exorcize him but messed up and Killer possessed his body instead, so now Cross is the ghost following Dust around, waiting to take his body back, and having to witness his own body flirting with Dust)

Ghost Horror

Horror was born and spent all of his life in a sect in the middle of nowhere, not that he wanted to leave anyway, but even if he wanted to he couldn't have reached out to anyone because there wasn't anyone aware of their existence

Food was sacred in the sect, so much that it would be used as sacrifice for their supreme leader (Undyne) and that only the worthy would be allowed to eat, and they still didn't have much food left

Horror was part of the worthy, he believed whole heartedly that the sect was good and only ever acted for its good

Until his brother made a mistake and was left to starve

And Horror loved his brother way more than he loved the sect, so needless to say his death greatly affected him

He started questioning Undyne, questioning the sect, and of course he got into troubles for that

He was hit, his head got badly injured, and he got locked up in the room where they left those unworthy of food, he later died of hunger

He haunts Dust now, and he always makes sure he eats during the day, being very scared that he might be hungry too as he had been hungry all of his life and died because of that, he is very insecure about food and always scared that there won't be enough

Demon Nightmare

Angels don't want to hear about him as he is a demon and demons don't trust him as he has angel magic in him and angel magic is more powerful than demon magic

( official backstory )

A demon born in heaven and banished in hell, twin brother of an angel

Thanks to, or because of, the angel magic Nightmare is one of the most powerful demons in hell and quickly got a reputation among mortals who summon him quite often

But the thing is, he is too powerful, and demons don't trust him even if he never showed any sign of rebellion, but to prevent any risk they decided to lock him away, separating his spirit (not his soul as demons don't have souls) from his body, leaving him as a broken version of himself only able to do small spells

But he still has a reputation, and Dust summoned him in hope he could do something for all the ghosts already following him, and Nightmare agreed on one condition: Dust had to give him his body back

Lots of things happened, Nightmare got his body back and is now tied to Dust because of their deal, but he never gets rid of the ghosts because he grew attached to them even tho he won't admit it, he will say that he finds them untertaining instead

Anyway Nightmare has big trust issues as he was betrayed by heaven first (and by Dream who did nothing to defend him) and then by hell, so it takes a long time for him to admit liking the group as deep inside he's still afraid they're gonna turn their back on him like everyone else did

(He also tries to convince Dream to stop trying to exorcize Dust when there is clearly no need to (Dust doesn't agree with him))

God Error

A God with not many followers but the few he's got are very devoted

His followers tried to sacrifice Dust once as they recognized he had a great power (plus the fact he had a demon following him around), but of course Dust's mates stalkers intervened and killed the followers

Blood having been spilled, and followers' blood being a greater sacrifice than other people's blood, Error got summoned, but instead of being mad that his followers got killed he was actually curious of Dust and declared him as his high priest to keep an eye on him and his little teammates

Error now shows up once in a while to appreciate some drama, Nightmare also became his new gossip buddy as Error talks shit about other Gods and Nightmare talks shit about Angels and Demons

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tookthe-405 · 7 months ago

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VBS

Chapter 2: Damage gets done ~ hozier (MY LOVE)

DAILY CLICK🍉 DONATE ON

LINKS🇵🇸 GOFUND.ME!!

a/n: again, sorry this took so long, life’s been stressful but I hope y’all like it <33 its long af tho

this is honestly just me messing around with happiness and then destroying it soon 😍

c/w: smut in future chaps!!, religious trauma, internalised homophobia, religious manipulation/abuse, implied abuse by parent

summary: you grew up religious without questions and in summer you would get send to vacation bible school. The camp always felt like prison to you, until a very interesting girl appeared.

7/22/2007 (sunday, week 1)

Readers pov:

10:02 a.m

The faces of the others were frozen as you trudged back to the hostel, which you couldn't blame them for. You don't see two girls with wet clothes here every morning, and the fact that you had to walk past the dining room to get to the stairs didn't exactly help you stay inconspicuous.

You and Ellie lost track of time a bit and were already too late when you noticed that breakfast had already started. The dining room doesn't really have a single door, the room was just completely open with no wall or door that could have protected you from being seen.

Giggles and agitated whispers immediately started as Ellie walked past the large room and down the corridor. Pastor Tobias' eyes pierced into back of your head as you walked past the hall.

Ellie found it all very entertaining and waved to a group of people who greeted her back with a laugh.

You, however, couldn't meet anyone's gaze, not your friends and certainly not Pastor Tobi's.

With your head bowed and your wet hair hitting your red cheek, you quickly fidget past all the spectators.

After 2 days, the events came dry from the lips of the people and you and Ellie could walk through the halls with a little less shame.

Or at least you did.

Ellie didn't think the whole thing was so bad. She said she didn't care and that it was worth it. That you hadn't done anything wrong, and she was right, you hadn't done anything bad.

But guilt was beggingly nibbling at your skin, hoping to be let into your brain where you would make up some fucked up mistake.

The singing of the choir and hazel next to you make it a little harder to think about all this, but not impossible. With your luck, you might dream about it. The whole scene in front of you, is so familiar that it feels like you are timely. The many children of different ages who sing their souls out to be enough.

Some of them are also really good, and some are good and love to sing. But they will probably not get any further than your little congregation, because it was explained to you from an early age that those talents you own are there to serve God and only him.

Acting out of free will would make you feel too guilty.

Your gaze rushes behind a shoulder to Ellie, and even she sings with it. Ellie seems to have made friends with a group of boys and girls a few days ago. She fits in pretty well, everyone looks like they don't feel like being here.

The short-haired girl catches your eyes and winks at you slightly, which makes you grin. She's so inserious, it's to laugh sometimes. With the same grin, she makes a small movement with her fingers and hands that looks as if she is composing something on an invisible piano. You understand that she just wants to tease you and show her a guitar-playing gesture.

"Don't do that!"

The hissing in your ear scares you, and you shake together briefly. After you have stretched your body forward again, and your shoulders feel like wooden boards, you give Hazel an apologetic look.

She unobtrusively holds a finger to her lips instead of telling you to shut up.

But her look is not as angry as she sounded, she admonishes you to stay out of trouble and you have to admit, that has often saved your ass.

When you were smaller, you wanted to try out almost everything, whether it was because of your quick trust in other people or because you just hated yourself too much to have any self respect left, no matter what it was, it almost messe up your life. Or rather your social life in church. And Hazel was like a warning hand that pulled you back again and again, saving yiuin the last moment.

When the piano music ends quietly and slowly, everyone sits down again, and a squeak sounds through the room. The piano that is played on every morning is old, but still sounds quite good. You could play all the hillsong songs and the old ones of your grandparents with your eyes closed if you had to, but Tanja does a good alternative job for you.

Your mother liked it so much, when the piano was played in the service that she thought it would be all the more beautiful if her daughter sat up there.

"Good morning everyone"

The older pastor leans against his narrow pedestal with the large cross on front and looks slowly through the rows.

"Personally, I find that 2 days are enough to get used to a life in nature and among themselves with God" he sighs tired for a short time as if he is already disappointed about something.

"Tomorrow you will go to the city with your assigned room partners and grou leaders and spread God's word”

Groaning resounds around in the room, most of pre teens who would rather do anything else than talk to strangers in the summer heat. Your group also has less desire, but this happens here every year like a kind of tradition, so you've been preparing for it.

"Not only that! The kitchen also prepares candied apples, which you can then all hand out nicely together!"

That was new. However, you understand the purpose behind it, you would also like it more to sit and listen here with a candied apple. In recent years, so many people have slammed the door in front of your nose that a few apples can't be bad.

"Hey girls" Louisa's voice makes you all look over your shoulder.

She kneels in front of you to be able to whisper better and more inconspicuously.

"You have kitchen duty this afternoon, please don't forget it and don't plan anything"

you all nod in Union.

"fuck"

"Kate!" Admonished hazel.

"What? It always takes like what? 2 hours?-"

"2 hours and 46 minutes" you improve her.

The four girls look at you confused.

"I stopped time last year out of boredom"

hazel grins at you, you twist your eyes but there is also a soft smile on your lips. You know exactly what's going through her head.

'That's so weird but just too sweet'

"I can't even remember the last time" murmurs naveah dreamy, her gaze rigidly on the ceiling.

"Probably because it was so traumatic that your brain simply deleted it for you" Kate dramatically her index finger against her head.

"It wasn't so bad, Kate exaggerates."

"I don't"

"my legs hurt all day"

Kate's and Mia's voices roll over and you smile. Hazel looks at you questioningly. You gambled with your shoulders.

"2 hours and 46 minutes Hazel..."

the girl shakes her head and her brown curls fall around her face a few times. "I thought it was okay"

Kate snorts. "Haze you would walk around in underwear in the snow if it happened in the name of the church."

"You wouldn’t?

11:38 a.m (sunday, week 1)

Three. You got 3 soccer balls shot in your face within 1 hour. You're not surprised that one of them was from Caleb, but the other two were shot by the same pretty black-haired girl, and it didn't look like she was sorry.

"What the…"

You stare at her and Caleb's backs during the water break and hope that it was just a coincidence, even if deep down you know that it wasn´t.

"Does he still not like you?" Naveah, sweating, picks up her water bottle while her eyes wander from time to time between you and Caleb.

You shrug, now more focused on Caleb fooling around with some guys.

The air in the gym was incredibly thick and almost unbearable, but the leaders still talked you into a soccer match. It was more or less Hazel's decision anyway and you guys do everything she does. The high windows let in the warm sun, whose heat wasn't particularly welcome right now.

The teams are mixed, meaning there are boys and girls on the same teams, aged 16 to 18. There weren't many, but enough to at least form 2 fair groups with even a few substitutions on the bench.

Ellie is nowhere to be seen , which doesn't surprise you, you regret ever saying yes to this, but you miss her in the disgusting, sweaty, narrow air. Her presence and her funny jokes would have been the only thing that could have made this a little less shitty.

"What's the deal with him anyway?" Naveah doesn't seem to let this go.

"We just don't like each other, that's just how it is sometimes."

She frowns.

"I don't think you can hate each other so much without a reason."

"I don't hate Caleb, I don't really care about him"

Naveah lets out a snort.

"Damn didn't know you could be a little bitchy too"

Caleb turns briefly in your direction and you take that as a sign to turn away and finally sit down for the next 8 minutes. Naveah does the same.

“I think everyone can be a little bitchy, you can’t like everyone and everything”

“Jesus could”

“Well im not Jesus”

she stretches her legs out next to you and sighs deeply.

"I know, even if this doesn't sound good, I sometimes find the principle of the church really fucked up. I try to love everyone, even people who do bad things to me, but it doesn't always work."

You're very surprised that she comes to you with this, but now that she did, you want to give her the best comfort you can.

"That's okay, naveah. We're neither God nor Jesus, we can do some things and we can't do some other. And we find a lot of things difficult. So Hate who you want"

naveah laughs and then becomes creepily serious again.

"Thanks, since you became friends with Ellie, you seem more relaxed to me."

Thinking, you try to remember your life before Ellie, but you can't. Before that everything was much more colorless, it didn't make as much sense as it does now.

"yes, I guess"

"no matter what Hazel says, you're right, Ellie isn't bad. How can a bad person make someone else this happy?"

12:24 p.m (sunday, week 1)

You haven't heard from Ellie all morning. It was almost as if she had completely disappeared, and if you're honest, you've had the feeling for a while that one day, she would just run away from here.

You wouldn´t hold it against her, but you would still feel dejected and left behind.

naveah and you talk a lot more after the game, she's more like you than you thought and you think she's good company. She understands your humor and you don't feel stupid or judged after every sentence you say.

It often happens to you that you wish for a world and reality in which it was always so easy to live. Where not every breath you take feels wasted.

You try very hard not to think about Caleb or your siblings back home. Homesickness seemed to catch up with you sooner or later anyway, but you didn't expect it to happen so quickly.

The summer heat was bearable, but it was still uncomfortable, so you spent most of your time indoors. Shortly after 12, Naveah suggested playing a few rounds of Uno with you, and since there was nothing better to do, you agreed.

"My father taught me uno, I can still remember that"

there is a very faint smile in her voice that touches your ears. She sounded a bit sad, as if she´s mourning that time of her life.

"I don't know your father at all"

you put a wish card on top of the pile of other cards. One round probably turned into a few.

"He's not really a christian, sometimes I think that's why he is the way he is"

"What do you mean?"

"He has a lot of emotions, he doesn't know what to do with them."

Christian parents are often very strict, as there are many rules in both parenting and the Bible that you have to follow. But since Naveah is talking about her atheist father, you don't really have a picture of what she really means, both your parents are religious.

"I don't understand exactly what you mean naveah…"

half of your brain is focused on the girl in front of you and the other half on the cards on the floor. Naveah moved around a little to sit down a little more comfortably, but this position didn´t seemed to free her from the emotional discomfort.

"Sometimes he doesn't know where to put all the anger. My mother doesn't help much with that either. Both of them know how to provoke each other, but only one of them knows how to deal with feelings."

"I still don't know what you mean? How does that affect you and your fathers relationship?"

It seems absurd to you how you talk about something like that while you're playing Uno, but if that's what she needs.

"Girls, lunch is ready and then you have to rinse off."

Louisa's voice flashes through the room and everyone moves quickly, but you make a mental note to talk to her about it later. You walk at a slow pace down the hallway and the other girls just rush past you. You remember how easy everything seemed to you at that age.

On the second floor you meet Jonathan.

“Hey you got wash up duity, don’t you?”

A dramatic groan leaves your mouth and you nod.

Joanthan is nice. You know his parents very well and you both grew up together as often as you saw each other at school and he was one of the only boys who wasn't interested in bullying girl for fun.

"Are you in the same room with Samuel?"

“Samuel and Austin, luckily”

You nod in understanding and see your group of girls whizzing past you out of the corner of your eye. Hazel turns to you briefly and gives you that grin and suddenly you know exactly what's going on here. An unpleasant feeling spreads through you and you try hard to ignore it.

"yeah… it's nice that you're still friends"

"I can't believe how long I've been able to put up with these two"

You giggle a little bit uncomfortable and think about the many pranks the three boys have pulled off. Both here in the camp and at school.

“Have you planned any new pranks?”

"hmm I don't know if I can tell you that" Jonathan grins at you.

"Well, if I hear something about a prank, I know who it was."

He shrugs and chuckles softly.

"Do you know what you're planning to do after the summer holidays? Now that we've finished school." you ask him.

He doesn't seem so sure about his answer.

"Not really, I don't know yet whether I want to stay here or go further away. Samuel wants to study in new york, I feel a bit left behind"

left behind. You know the fear of that as well.

"No matter what you decide, you have a future everywhere, time goes by either way"

he smiles at you and combs a few thick curls out of his face. You notice that he's looking at you longer than necessary.

"Hey would you like-" "Jesus where are they?"

You try strenuously to find Hazel's brown curls over the many people's heads, but they are nowhere to be seen.

"Sorry Jonathan, I have to find the others before they can no longer manage to save a seat for me."

you lie coldly to his face.

Without any further words, you quickly march through the many groups. You can feel his confused look burning at your spine, but whatever he wanted wasn't what you wanted.

You notice two things in the dining room.

Luckily Hazel secured a spot for you and Ellie is talking to the girl who shot a fucking ball at you. Twice.

Ellie's face seemed neutral, she was smiling slightly.

Jealousy overcomes you and you´re embarrassed at how quickly and unexpectedly it happens. Your cheeks redden and you feel very immature, like in middle school when you were mad that Hazel had other friends besides you.

You sit down in silence next to Hazel, who has already placed a plate at your place. Some pureed vegetable soup that you have to force down.

"What did Jonathan want?" Kate leans forward eagerly.

Unexpectedly, Jonathan is a good distraction for once.

"You're being so childish"

"Come on, we're just curious"

That's how it was always with the boys. No matter what people say, Christian girls are obsessed with boys, no matter how much the feeling of guilt trys to destroy that. For many, boys even come before God in terms of interest.

Not necessarily boys, but more the romance itself. The acceptance and recognition of being enough for a man.

Your eyes flick to Ellie, who is still talking to her about something seemingly funny. Of course you don't care.

“He didn’t want anything from me and even if he did it i would not care.”

1:14 p.m (sunday, week 1)

You are just waiting to be let into the kitchen. It's nothing unusual to take on kitchen duty in camp. It's a kind of thank you from the church to the kitchen for cooking warm food every day. Every girl's room gets a turn twice a year. After the girls' rooms have all been through to the second time, there are two more boys' rooms so that it doesn't get unfair. Ironic isn´ it?

Every year it's the same, every year you can hear the boys crying and complaining when they're the ones who have to do it this year. Now was your day where you have to wash 200 dishes. The staff and managers involved.

Ellie isn't here yet. She can't really have forgotten it, Louisa reminded her not to do anything between 1 and 3 p.m. this morning.

"Okay girls, then let's get to work."

Lousia opens the door to the kitchen a little too enthusiastically with her key and everyone follows her limply. It's the same place with the same number of dirty dishes.

Washing the dishes yourself isn't that bad for you, it's the fact that this kitchen is so damn dark.

For some reason there are only 3 windows in the white, old room. The tiles on the floor are already old and a few edges have broken off, the potholes were noticeable on the sole of your slippers. It still smells like soup and detergent and you wonder who would want to spend hours doing something like that.

“Here” Hazel hands you gloves and an apron.

"Sorry I'm late" Ellie stands in the doorway, panting, looking for Lousia's gaze, but it still stays on you.

"Hey" she smiles at you… shyly?

You smile back and pull the apron over your head.

"Ellie… please don't let this happen again."

“I promise it won´t”

Hazel also hands her the things and Ellie doesn’t hesitate for a second. You're a little surprised that she showed up at all, but she seems a bit inergic to you.

"Okay, we'll divide into 3 groups and one will rinse while the other dries and puts thw dishes away," you almost order the others.

You grew up with a very tidy mother and a big sister, you know a lot about tidying up and organization. That's why no one hesitates and does what you said.

"I wanted to talk to you all day"

Ellie's rough voice loops into your right ear and you quickly grab the dishes and a sponge as a distraction and start to rinse.

"I'll rinse you dry"

Ellie seems surprised to have to pick up a plate but does as you say.

"Everything okay?"

What bothers you is how easy it is for her to read you.

“Yes, everything is perfect”

“It doesn’t seem like it?”

"That's your self Ellie?"

"Did anything happen?"

"No"

"Did I do something?"

"Ellie!"

You say her name a little loudly and Mia, who is standing across from you, turns to you briefly and smiles encouragingly at you.

No, that is completely wrong. You shouldn't be mad at Ellie, you should stand by her, she could be in distress or something.

You direct your gaze again, an embarrassing blush on your face.

As strange as it sounds, Ellie really looks beautiful in an apron. Her soft curves, her forearms that show off her fair, freckled skin and the black ink of her tattoo. She always has to pull up her sleeves no matter what she does.

"I just had a bad day okay?"

You take the next plate.

"Her name is Ruth"

Ruth. you imagine how the name would feel on your tongue, how it would taste. How it would taste on Ellie's tongue. Shaking, you banish the thought because the thought of a sentence where both Ellie’s tongue and taste appear, seems too dangerous to you.

"I didn't ask that"

"You didn't have to"

Nobody speaks for 10 minutes, there is complete silence. Your thoughts rush from one corner of your brain to the other. You didn't want to argue with her, you didn't want to be anything other than hers.

soon you realize that you have no right to be angry with Ellie. She can talk to whoever she wants. Strangely enough, it also seemed to make a certain amount of sense for Ellie that you were angry.

You Wonder why.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs next to you, a wet glass in her hand.

"You don't have to be, you didn't do anything, Ellie."

Your anger subsided, and your longing for Ellie's soft, warm voice grew.

"I haven't paid any attention to you all day."

"You don't have to-"

"But I want to. As often as I can."

Sometimes you think that she doesn't even notice what she's actually saying to you. That she's in a trance and doesn't even notice what's falling over her lips. How vulgar her allusions are, and how good they feel.

You turn around briefly, but no one seems to have heard.

"It's okay, don't worry about it now."

"I really am sorry though." Her hand rests gently on your back, but doesn't quite touch you. it is the gesture itself that counts here, but you can't help but think of her soft skin, of her many freckles that are certainly not only on her face.

"I know. Me too, I shouldn't have acted around like that"

her face shows how happy she was with the situation and you smiled too.

"I like your hair. It's really pretty braided" she whispers

her hands sadly turn back to the dishes and your gaze remains stuck to her for a while. But how could you not? who would ever want to look away from her?

"what did you want to tell me?" you ask her.

"how do you know that I want to tell you something?"

"you get really fidgety when you want to talk about something"

you notice so many things about her. how her leg fidgets slightly, how she keeps having to change her position and shifts her hips from left to right, how she bites her cheek, sometimes too hard.

"um... I had an idea"

"Ellie, no-"

"I haven't said anything yet"

the running water covers your voices, luckily, and no one notices.

"We're handing out these apples tomorrow and I thought to myself-"

you give her another glass and look into her soul.

"That's stupid and we're not 10 anymore, Ellie, what makes you think of something like that?"

Ellie takes the glass slowly and carefully, not breaking eye contact with you. Her eyes look hurt.

"Please explain it to me" you try to make your voice softer, more trustworthy.

"I don't want to be here. You don't understand, you're here every year and people love you. There's something wrong with me and I'm reminded of it every fucking day, I just want to show him what it's like to be treated like that"

you could hear the tears in her voice. You noticed early on with your brother that some people just don't cry, or at least don't like to. They express their tears differently, with Ellie it's her voice.

Her voice shows how she's feeling just as clearly as tears would have.

The kitchen is divided into two compartments. One is where they cook and the other is where they put the dirty dishes and clean them.

"How are we even supposed to get into the kitchen? And how do we know that they haven't already put the glaze on the apples? We don't know anything, Ellie-"

"Jesse's mother is volunteering to help in the kitchen. He said that he needs to help his mother to candy the apples this evening. But before that we can make a few changes."

Your mouth is slightly open. She has really thought this through. You hand Ellie another glass and stare at the door at the end of the room. No chance of her just getting in there. Louisa is a very nice manager but even that wouldn't gat an approve of her.

"How are we even supposed to get in there?"

CLINGGG

a high, loud noise bounces around in the air and you flinch so much that it hurts.

"fuck"

"oops" Ellie grins at you slightly after she has dropped the glass, you gave her to dry, on the floor.

"I'm so sorry, god I'm so clumsy"

Ellie gives you a whole scene, in which you don't have to do anything but hold back a laugh.

"Louisa, forgive me, it just fell out of my hand"

the other girls have to hold back a giggle too, even Hazel.

Ellie's high, dramatic voice sounded bad like a dying cat, but once again you were impressed by how daring she is.

"Yeah, yeah Ellie, clean that up. The broom is in the storage room"

Louisa presses the many keys into Ellie's hand and doesn't seem at all surprised.

"Thank you very much sister" for a moment you thought she was bowing.

„we’re not catholic Ellie-“

„But Mrs. I don't know where the storage rooms are"

„And I’m not married“ Louisa sighs

"Shit Ellie, I'm kinda enjoying this"

Kate grins at her and Ellie winks as Louisa gives Kate a warning look.

Ellie puts a strong, secure arm around you.

“Please accompany her”

Louisa waves her hands in the air between you two

“Sure” you reply like a robot

Ellie's arm pulls you towards the exit door and almost slams it behind you.

"first we ruin the glaze, then we can get the broom from wherever that was"

"in the storage room"

"whatever"

There are two doors to the kitchen. One that is in the washing up room and connects the two rooms and another that leads directly to the kitchen. The other entrance can be taken through the dining hall, and that's where you headed.

"if the pastor sees us, we're dead, Ellie"

you walk quickly but are still careful when you go around corners.

"I know, I think he wants to hang me on a scarecrow, I had a dream about that recently-"

you grab her arm and shove her back behind a safe corner.

"phillip"

"who the fuck is Phillip"

you press Ellie lightly against the wall because you are sure that sometimes she can't control her body properly. you peek around the corner slightly and see the orange hair.

"He's like the pastor's right-hand man, his best friend is also his roommate and his assistant."

"Pastors can have roommates?"

The orange spot at the end of the hallway slowly disappears like the light of a car on a dark night. This time you go first and Ellie follows you like a dog, she is also much quieter.

You feel 6 years younger and you like doing something you've never dared to do. Otherwise it was always the boys who played pranks and even though you never admitted it, you were always jealous.

Jealous of the freedom to behave like an asshole and not face any consequences. You wanted to have that laugh, that bond of having done something wrong together and to experience the big drama afterwards. To be praised for having done it.

"Shit, you like this, don't you?"

How can she read you so well?

"No!"

When you get to the door you stare at her knowingly.

"Yes you do, you're not as good as you always act doll. And I mean that in the best way possible"

"You're full of shit Ellie"

you let her pass you and the green eyed girl hastily tries to find the key.

"hey" you calmly touch her quick hands.

"calm down. don't stress Ellie"

her cheeks redden and her hands slow down.

"i really can't find it. fuck do you even have the key to the kitchen as a group leader?"

out of instinct you pull the door handle to use the key and the door opens.

"That was easier than i thought-"

Ellie puts the keys in her back pocket and carefully sticks her head into the kitchen. you keep watch so that no one walks by and tells on you. you quickly scurry after Ellie into the empty, warm room and smell the sweet air of the apples.

"the door has a fucking window" Ellie whispers in your ear and points at the door from where your friends are cleaning dirty dishes, the door that leads to Louisa who Is waiting for her keys.

goosebumps spread across your arms and legs and you are not sure if it is where Ellie is or the chance of being thrown out of the camp.

as you stand in front of the big pot you both breathe in out of reflex.

"It smells good, I even feel a little bad about ruining it"

Ellie watches the bubbling bubbles a little dreamily.

"Isn´t that actually vandalism?"

you ask thoughtfully.

Ellie almost laughs out loud and puts her hand over her mouth. You grab her arm and press even harder against her mouth so that she is really quiet.

"No, that isn't really vandalism oh my god you are innocent"

"Wow thanks Ellie, it was so enlightening"

you spend a while looking in the kitchen for something that might taste good and after a while Ellie finds vinegar that is probably decades old.

"that is so disgusting, remind me not to eat any of it"

Ellie's look confirms that somehow you'll have to eat it anyway.

"it will noticeable if we don't eat anything, just a small bite"

"Ellie what the fuck" you massage your temples with your thumb and watch her open the vinegar.

"not too much, okay?"

"yeah yeah"

In the end she used almost half the bottle to make it really gross. for an "extra reaction" she said. In the end you almost got caught by the pastor's right hand. In the end Ellie held your hand for exactly 4 seconds.

It was impressive how those 4 seconds stayed in your head for hours.

INTERACT WITH ONE OF THE LINKS UP THERE

Please post and repost a lot about Palestine especially right now. The videos shock me to my core and are really disturbing but people live these lives, these are children of someone. Please take your focus on the people in Palestine who are going thru hell. Help where you can

I really hope you liked this chapter, I will upload more after focusing more about palestine so it might take a while! Btw SO SORRY ITS THAT LONG

Taglist: @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @vqxen @hersuniverse @nelzooo @shiimer @bellaramseysgirlfriend @sonthingwithl @vi0lentb3rry @elliewilliamsblunt @be3flow3r @adelaide013 @abbysbraids @mourningdovee

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