#and so they were both specifically emphasized to be virgins

[moliathh]

hate to pop bubbles but i dont think Integra remaining a virgin til the end was because Hirano Kohtah is so progressive he made his main character an ace rep 😭🤐 like we have to confront the very uncomfortable aspect of Hellsing which is the "only virgins can be vampires" rule and how it only applies to Integra and Seras, the two characters that could be seen as "good sided" characters. It was kinda giving serious Madonna-whore complex I am not kidding. Me personally i find that rule ridiculous as hell and as far as i am aware of, Hellsing is the only vampire media with that fuck ass rule. Like come on now virginity especially one imposed by religious institutions is one of the most oppressive and damaging concept to feminism. I mention this because I don't think it's a fair evidence to use to prove Integra is canonically implied to be asexual. On the contrary, given her upbringings, it could be seen as an oppression as we are not fully aware whether she abide by the oath willingly or not. It was instilled in her from young age of course she still thinks it is "her duty to remain chaste until marriage". That is an absurd rule. People should be allowed to choose for their own sexual experience and exploration safely. She is canonically groomed into these so called "duty" and "responsible". She is however heavily implied to be within the ace spectrum from my perspective. She was not shown to have expressed attraction towards anyone she wasn't familiar or already had a close connection with, which overlaps with demisexual experience. That is purely my headcanon. It's unfair to shove your headcanon on other people.

[fruittt-punchhh]

attachment

(couldn’t find image source anywhere, if u know pls lmk!!)

Synopsis: Choso was one of your closest friends - you spent so much time together, others said you were ‘attached at the hip’. But when his curiosity blooms, you are the only one that can help quench his thirst for knowledge.

Characters: Choso Kamo x reader (about time)

Content: Minors Do Not Interact! smut, fem! reader, virgin! Choso (so virgin that he lives in a world where he has somehow at the age of twenty something never heard about masturbating or sexual intercourse), college au, link to prn audio, suggestiveness, cursing, mentions of female masturbation, male masturbation, maybe a tiiiiiny bit of voyeurism, pet/affectionate names, big (pretty) dick! Choso, just our sweet lovey boy Cho in his full glory tbh.

Word count: A solid 6k

Notes: AHEM! there is some spicy audio from twitter linked in this post as well as an SFW image at the end. you’ll know when you’ve reached that point, and it will be emphasized like this, accentuated with '*'. if that's not something you're down for, you can totally scroll past. if you arrrre down for that, i think you'll need to be logged into twitter beforehand for the audio. if you're on mobile, I'm not sure if you'll be able to hear the audio as you read (unfortunately), but if you can, you're in for a treat bitch.

More Notes: i finally have some of my own choso smut on this blog wtf. he is my guilty pleasure omg i mean literally who doesn't love him, more specifically him when he's an inexperienced desperate crying mess???? i really hope you enjoy this one, i have def enjoyed writing it. (side note - the songs i pick for these fics sometimes fit the vibe of what i wrote, and other times it's a song i can't get out of my head. both are the case for this one - i listened to this nonstop while writing so pls enjoy if that’s cool with u). there will be future parts, and if you want to be tagged in those and you’re not already, let me know!!! SORRY TO YAP ILY BYE

(I wanted to upload this at like 5p my time for engagement purposes but then I thought about all the bitches (me) that may work from home, read smut on the clock regardless (me), or simply don’t work rn, so I had to give you the goodness now)

“Y/n, c-can I ask you a question? Like.. a personal one?”

You and Choso were seated on the couch, eyes fixated on the rom com on the screen ahead. It was your weekly movie marathon night - the movie you two just finished was an action thriller that was right up Choso’s alley. It was your pick next, and you went with a classic rom com that had a few more spicy scenes than you anticipated. It left the air in the room feeling thick, both of you clearing your throats and glancing throughout the room as if someone’s parents were present.

You and Cho had been close friends for a while, and it helped that you shared a similar schedule this semester. Although he was a cutie, you had no clue if he shared a similar attraction to you. He was so shy, and while the shy emo boy thing has worked on you before, you felt like you’d do nothing but corrupt Choso’s innocent soul if you were to make a move. You let things play out naturally, enjoying the company he brought and your friendship - but if things went in a different direction, you wouldn’t be opposed in the slightest.

“Sure, Cho - what’s up?” You ask, noting the concerned look on his face.

“Have you ever.. done that before?” He asks, motioning to the screen, and your heart aches with how precious he looks. His eyes flick up at you when your hand rests on his shoulder so you can scoot a little closer towards him.

“Well, yeah.. yeah I have. What makes you ask?”

“J-Just the movie, I-I was just curious,” he blurts, trying not to sound as weird as he felt for asking.

“Well, what makes you want to ask me specifically, I mean,” you press, trying to read his expression through his shaggy hair and long lashes.

He blushes, making eye contact with you again before twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

“I just.. I’ve never done any that before, a-and I trust you, ya’ know? I didn’t know if I was weird for not doing that,” he says, his voice becoming shakier by the second.

“Ohmygod, Cho, no of course you’re not weird! Everyone discovers things at their own pace. There’s a whole lot of stuff when it comes to sex, so it can get overwhelming,” you say, rubbing his shoulder with your thumb to help calm his nerves.

Which was really doing the opposite. Your touch was searing hot on his skin and it worried him. He’s been touched plenty of times, even by you - but it felt like you might melt through his skin if you pressed hard enough. It felt that way on his outer thigh, too; your knee resting on his leg accidentally inching closer to the area he felt every blood cell creeping to.

“Y-Yeah, s’overwhelming for sure,” he says, shifting his position slightly further from you.

“I-I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Begin? Do you have someone in mind you want to do stuff with?” You ask, begging he says no. You felt a little weird for hoping, but you would hate for his first experience to be with the wrong person.

More blood rushes to his cheeks when he makes eye contact with you, quickly looking back to the TV when he sees a hopeful look in your eye.

“N-No, definitely not. I just want to learn more, f-for when that time comes,” he says, clearing his throat and hoping you don’t catch on to his half-lie.

Phew.

“Well it’s probably best to start with the basics, yeah? Just the simple stuff, then eventually you kind of.. figure out where to go from there, if that makes sense,” you add, and he responds with a simple nod as he turns to face you again, ready to absorb whatever knowledge you have to share with him.

“So… have you ever touched yourself before?” You ask, trying not to wince at how awkward you felt asking him something so personal. But you had to assess how much he really knew.

He furrows his brows in confusion and lets out a small laugh, “Um, obviously - see?” He asks as he pokes his stomach with his pointer finger, and you remind yourself to keep a straight face. You grab his arm to refocus him and he huffs a breath of half-laughter as he notices how the blood in your fingertips pulse against his wrist.

“No, Cho. I mean like.. down there,” you say, motioning to his crotch area with your finger - he still looks confused.

“You know? To have an orgasm..” you ask, hoping he will pick up on your hints.

“Orgasm?”

You sigh, trying to find the right wording to explain this without sounding belittling.

“So, when I said ‘touching yourself���, I was referring to masturbation. I’m not gonna’ teach you how to do that because a Google search will tell you all you need to know,” and he nods feverishly.

“When you do.. sex stuff - like masturbate, have sex, all of that, usually the goal is to have an orgasm. Not always, but most of the time. I don’t know all the science behind it, but when you repeatedly stimulate the nerves in this area,” you say motioning to your groin, “you can have an orgasm.”

“O-Okay, I understand. Is the orgasm weird? Sounds like it,” he asks and you smile.

“No, no not at all. It feels really good. You know how when you have to sneeze and there’s this big buildup, then bam, you sneeze? And you feel so relieved? It’s kinda’ like that, but a million times better.”

“Better than eating your favorite food? Or watching movies?”

He asks, eager to know more.

And you sigh again, “Well, it’s hard to compare it to stuff like that, but it is really pleasurable. It just makes your body feel good, I guess. It’s hard to explain it through words, but now you know a little more - if you’re interested in that sorta thing.”

“No, I think I understand better now,” he says, thankful for your instruction.

“Oh, and if you do masturbate, when you have an orgasm, some fluid will come out from.. down there. But it’s normal and happens to everyone.”

“Fluid? Even girls?”

“Yes, Cho, even girls. It’s different though for sure. For girls it’s more like clear.. slimey stuff? And for you it’s like a white.. liquid? I’m sorry, I’m so bad at explaining shit,” you laugh, rolling your eyes at how stupid you felt.

“No, y/n you’re doing a great job! I had no clue about any of this stuff. Question.”

“Shoot.”

“What is it called? The fluid,” he says hesitantly, still trying to wrap his mind around how making fluid come out of any body part was a good thing. He feels his crotch grow warmer and, out of embarrassment, shifts his pillow to hide his growing problem.

“Oh, well there’s scientific names for it, but everybody calls it cum,” you say as you will the blush to fade from your cheeks.

“Cum. Like ‘come here’?”

“Y-Yeah, pretty much. Just spelled different.”

“Got it. Another question.”

You nod.

“How do you know when to masturbate?”

You were hoping this was one he wouldn’t ask.

“Well kind of whenever you want to,” and his eyes widen, “Let me rephrase that. It’s kind of like using the restroom, right? Something that you do behind closed doors.”

“Y-Yeah, makes sense. But whenever you want to? How do you know when you want to?”

“Okay,” you start, “you know how people in movies talk about being horny? It basically means you’re.. turned on, you want to have sex, stuff like that. So when you feel that way you could do it if you want. For you it’ll be a little easier to tell.”

“How?”

“You know how when you wake up in the morning and your… area is hard?” You ask and he blushes, turning again to look at the television.

“Yes,” he answers simply.

“Well when it is hard, it doesn’t always mean you’re horny - it can just happen randomly. But whenever you do start to feel that way, usually it’ll get hard. But that doesn’t mean you have to masturbate whenever it is that way, you know? Just if you want to,”

He gulps as he shushes the images in his mind of you waking up in his bed beside him, still trying to understand all the information being thrown at him.

“O-Okay. I-I think that’s good, for now, to start at least. Thank you for telling me all of that,” he says with a smile as he tries to focus his attention to the tv.

“It’s no problem, I promise. You can always ask me questions about anything, you know that right?” You say, wrapping your arm around his shoulders to give him a quick squeeze of reassurance.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he says, voice cracking as he finishes his statement. There was yet another passionate scene appearing on screen, albeit shrouded by covers and dim lighting. The discussion left him feeling hot all over, and the blood rushing southward had only increased. It didn’t help that you pressed your plush chest into his arm so sweetly when you hugged him. Although he had never seen a woman in that way in person before, he knew that if he had to pick, it’d be you. It always would be.

“Y/n, would you hate me if I had to go home? My tummy hurts for some reason,” he says with a grimace, rubbing his abdomen as he looks at you.

You chuckle, “Oh really? It wouldn’t have anything to do with the three pounds of candy you ate would it?” You ask, pointing to the empty wrappers he had shoved into the plastic sack they came in.

“You’re probably right, hah. I’m sorry, I just feel like I need to lay down,” he admits, wiping the sweat he feels accumulating on the back of his neck.

You shove into his arm, to which he responds with a fake ‘ow’. “Ugh, and right in the middle of my movie? You owe me one, Cho,” you say, sticking your bottom lip out for good measure.

He smiles brightly, crows feet decorating the corners of his eyes. “Duhhhh, we can just reschedule for the weekend. I should be free Saturday night if you wanna’?” He asks.

“I’ll have to check my schedule. Don’t leave much room in my calendar for traitors nowadays.” You say with a dramatic roll of your eyes. He giggles and pushes you back, sticking his tongue out before he gathers his things to go.

You reach up so he can give you your usual bye hug before he continues walking to your door.

“I’ll give you double next time, I-I don’t wanna get you sick,” he yells as he scrambles to unlock the door. You start to get up to demand your hug before you hear the door open with a rushed ‘see ya’ later’ as he shuts it.

He rushes out the door, fumbling for his keys before he sits in his car with a huff. He was throbbing now, but you said it was something to do behind closed doors. To be fair, he was scared to try. What if he didn’t do it right?

He wipes his palms on his pants, turning the key in the ignition before he pulls out of the drive. He had so much to think about - there was no time for music. He drives home in silence, replaying the conversation the two of you had as he tries to will his hardon to go away. But each time he thought about it, it would twitch in response to the images of you in his head.

You watch him leave from your kitchen window. He looked okay, maybe a little feverish. With how sudden it came on, you felt like it had more to do with the conversation you two had than the exuberant amount of candy. You did throw a lot of information on him at once though. You want to text him to get to the bottom of things, but he was notorious for texting you back as he was driving, not wanting to leave you waiting for long. You decide to wait until after the shower you so desperately needed.

-

You wrap your hair in a towel and throw on your previously laid out pajamas. You fan your face so your moisturizer can dry as you go to grab your phone off the charger. No texts from Choso, surprisingly. He usually always texted you when he got home.

‘just checking in, how you feeling??🤢’

You can’t even close your phone before a loud ding! echoes in your room.

-

The ride home was excruciating. Now that he knew there was a way to take care of things, he felt helpless not being able to now. At this point, he still didn’t even really understand how to… ‘stimulate the nerves’ - that could mean anything. The knowledge he had now plays on repeat in his mind as he pulls up to his apartment. He checks his phone - it reads a too-bright 9:33.

He goes inside and immediately lays on the couch, not having the energy to go upstairs just yet. He forced himself to sleep. He knew texting you would make him think of the way you smelled earlier, the way you were so suddenly all over him, how your chest pressed into him when you hugged him like you usually do.

It only made matters worse that he dreamed of you - his aching, throbbing problem seemed to be worse now that he refused to take care of it earlier. He rubs his eyes, reaching for his phone to see you texted him about thirty minutes ago.

‘I’m good! Just needed to lay down, sorry I didn’t text you!! I fell asleep when I got back😴🥱’

‘It’s okay bestie!!! Do you feel better now?’

‘Yeah a little bit! Thank you for talking to me earlier’

‘Sorry if it was weird’

‘ohmygooooooddddd dude I told you it wasn’t weird! I’m always down to talk about whatever silly butt’

‘I knowwww🤓I just felt awkward but I didn’t know who else to ask’

‘It’s okay I promise. Do you have any other q’s? Might make you feel less awkward yk’

‘Mayyyybe😟’

‘I’m waiting🙂‍↕️’

Your response made him anxious - he felt like he’d been hard for hours at this point. He knew it had something to do with you, though it was difficult to admit. He had always looked at you fondly, sneaking glances when you weren’t looking, finding reasons to come over, staying up late just to talk on the phone. But he was so new to everything he had no idea on how to take things further, if you even wanted to.

He did want to learn more about you, though - like he always did.

‘do you touch yourself?’

You did not expect him to ask anything like that. He was usually so innocent and coy. It could have been genuine curiosity, although your stomach was telling you something else.

‘ummmmm yes sometimes🤔why’

He did not expect your answer, either. Not that he thought you wouldn’t - you obviously knew enough about it to teach him well. But he also didn’t think you would, maybe he was even hoping you wouldn’t. Knowing that you do made him feel like he could combust.

‘I was just curious!! sorry if that was too far’

He types the message quickly, locking his phone before he headed upstairs. He was determined to learn more - he was so hard at this point it was hurting. He couldn’t keep his mind clear from the lewd depictions of you sprawled out for him so pretty.

He sits into his computer chair quickly, logging onto his desktop before he pulls up an incognito tab. He knew that porn was out there, but he wanted actual educational material.

-

It’s been only fifteen minutes and he feels like he's discovered an entirely new world. He knows even more than he bargained for and he’s seen enough instructional diagrams to last a lifetime. He feels like he has a decent grasp on how to masturbate and even some ways to please others, when that time comes.

He grabs his phone, worried what your response would be to his prying question.

‘no it’s okay! just didn’t expect you to ask but yeah, it can be a great stress reliever!!’

You send the message, hopeful you didn’t sound to forward.

He receives it and the tent in his pant twitches involuntarily. He puts his phone face down on the desk, taking a breath as he attempts to process what you said.

‘also not to change the subject bc we can still talk about whatever, but i really need help on the calc hw🙏😀’

He was too excited at the thought of you so expertly relieving your stress. He imagines you all red faced, panting and falling apart. How sweet you’d sound gasping and whining his name. The thought has him reaching for the waistband of his lose sweats, his long fingers making his abdomen tense when they move further, brushing the trimmed hairs at his base before they just barely wrap around his shaft. He pulls his sweats over his length, gasping at the dry stimulation. His cock springs forward, smacking loudly on his stomach as he winces. He’s been painfully hard for hours now - his angry tip was drooling precum, smearing it underneath his belly button into his happy trail. He grabs himself again, wrapping somewhat firmly around the base of his cock, careful not to squeeze too hard. The diagrams he studied said too much of a grip wasn’t ideal, but too loose wouldn’t provide enough stimulation.

He pulls his hand up slowly, the skin around his tip enveloping the curves of his cock head snugly before releasing it as he moves his hand downwards back to its original position.

‘f-fuck,’ he whines, already overwhelmed by the new sensation. It’s not like he hasn’t felt something similar before - but the new knowledge of what this was, what it led to, left his breath shaky from the anticipation. He moves again, gripping slightly harder as he brings his hand up further than before, almost entirely to the tip as more spurts of his essence leak from his tip to his fingers.

He continues, slowly increasing his pace. Each stroke elicited a noise from him - a gasp or a grunt, and downright pitiful whines that were ripped from the bottom of his lungs. He had never felt so close to nirvana before and he couldn’t help vocalizing* his pleasure as he struggles to keep a steady pace. He tries to stop his mind from drifting, but the snug grip he has on his length as he repeatedly bucks into his hand sends him to a place where every thought is infiltrated with your essence. The way your hands squeeze his shoulder, how the fat of your hips threatened exposure when you wore your favorite pajama shorts, how you were always so warm, how your hair smelled when he hugged you. He reaches his free hand up into his shirt, resting on his heart as he tries to match the erratic beating rhythm with his strokes. He’s nearly crying now, strangled noises leaving his throat so raw and sharp, voice cracking and heaving as he feels an unfamiliar pull in his groin. He’s whining out pitiful cries of your name now in response to the borderline overstimulation of his pretty, weeping cock. Sweat pools on his body as his hips come entirely off the chair to pump messily into his fist, chasing a release he didn’t know he needed.

-

You check your phone again, seeing a message that still read as ‘delivered’. Choso was usually so quick to text you back, almost like he left the screen open to your messages only. You were starting to worry that he may actually be sick with his unusually inconsistent communication. The calculus problem you needed help with was staring back at you on your laptop screen, still waiting to be answered.

You open up your discord to see his status as ‘idle’. However, when you open Skype, you see a little green dot showing he was active in the last hour. Might as well call him here if he didn’t have his phone.

-

Shit. His vision was turning white as he felt every sense in his body ignite before he is lurched back into reality when a familiar chime plays in the background, somehow perceivable over the dull ringing in his ear. The sound is hardly audible behind his pathetic whimpers as he tries to steady his breathing before he answers. He flips his phone over first to see a message from you from a few minutes ago, and he curses a long string of 'fuck, fuck, fuck'.

He answers the call, feeling so stupid for keeping you waiting again. He’s unaware of the state he appears to be in when the webcam turns on, bright desktop light illuminating his red, fucked-out face.

He stutters, still struggling to catch his breath as he wipes the sweat from his brow.

“H- Hi, Hi, y-y/n,” he says, choking out an airy laugh as he puts his head in his hand.

“Were you just -“ you say, putting the pieces together as you take in his image - splotchy, sweat-shined skin, hair stuck slick to his forehead, shaky hands, and bitten, swollen lips. It would explain the inconsistent messaging, the off-kilter questions from earlier, and most importantly, the state he was in now. He was nearly moaning on the call, still too caught up in his obvious state of pleasure.

“I swear, I wasn’t, hah,” he starts, taking a deep breath again as he finds a nearby towel and runs it through his sweaty, disheveled hair, letting out an audible 'fuck' to your surprise - he never cursed in front of you.

“J-Just got back from a run!” He adds with a smile, clearing his throat as he readjusts in his chair.

“I thought you were sick?” You ask, trying to adjust your laptop camera as you sit back into the bed. Choso gasped, barely detected by his webcam mic as your camera twitched downwards in your attempt to reposition. The camera flashed your waist, hugged tightly by your white tank top, which was followed by your full chest, nearly heaving out of the neckline - his breath hitched as he catches a glimpse of your nipples peeking through the thin material. All too quickly the camera is refocused by on your face.

He thought this would make it better for him, having the camera pointed away from your tempting figure. But your clean, soft skin shined so brightly on camera and made him feel like he could melt. He still breathes heavy, trying to find an explanation to your question.

“Yeah, phew - felt like I was getting a fever, wanted to run out the ick, ya’ know?” He says, chuckling nervously after he finishes. He looks down at his gray t shirt, now covered in sweat.

“Gimme’ just a sec’ - gonna change,” he says and you respond with a hesitant ‘okay’. You chose not to tease him although the thought was lingering - he was probably as embarrassed as he’d ever been getting somewhat caught in the act.

He reaches his hand up to his webcam, sliding the privacy shield to your right - only halfway. He doesn’t realize his mistake, his still shaking fingers betraying him. He stands from his desk with a huff, and your hand flies to your mouth as you stifle a gasp. For a brief moment, his pelvis faces the camera before he turns to find a shirt. He’s pulling his sweats up as you’re able to see just a flash of his crotch, light brown hairs decorating his pelvis that come to a head at the end of a sharp, defined ‘v’. In the few seconds, you were able to see a clear outline of his dick pressed firmly into the fabric of his sweats. It looked girthy and he sat so heavy and pretty - the rounded mushroom tip protruding where it rested in the left leg of his pants. There was a darker gray patch near his tip, signaling the problem you’ve suspected him to have since he left your place earlier. He unknowingly continues his show, pulling his ruined shirt over his fluffy hair, flashing his taught abdomen before your very eyes. You could tell he was built under his clothes, and a lot of his time outside of class and hanging out with you was spent in the gym. But the up close viewing on his toned figure was enough to send a heat rushing towards your core as filthy thoughts of him on top of you flash one after the other. He unfortunately turns to find a new shirt, coming back after he finds a white compression tee to smooth over his still damp torso.

He slides the cover left, smiling at the camera with a wave as he announces his return. You clear your throat, trying to refocus your attention to the matter at hand.

“Hey yeah, um - the homework, right. It’s number… 26 on the ‘limits’ assignment,” you explain.

“Read it to me,” he demands, breathing finally stabilized from earlier.

You read the equation, explaining the error you got each time you plugged it into your calculator.

His face lights up, “Oh, yeah! That one was tricky, it’s D though. I’ll explain it in class tomorrow if you want,” he adds, desperate to end the call. While he could look at you eternally, the sensitivity he was experiencing had him nearly ripping the wood from his desk topping with his fingernails.

“Awesome, thank you!” You reply, selecting the correct answer before you minimize the tab, wanting to set the call to full screen for a moment.

“Cho, can I come over tomorrow? I know you said we wouldn’t be able to until Saturday, but I can already tell I’ll be bored tomorrow.”

He’s shocked.

“M-My place? We always go to yours though -,” he answers, glancing around at the state of his room to be met with more of a mess than he remembered.

“Well yeah, but we never go to yours though! Figured it could be fuuunnn,” you add, hoping he doesn’t see right through your real intentions. The intentions you had of ensuring he was taught well, far better than you were able to earlier. You feel as if the dots connected before you - his permanent blushed cheeks he wore so proudly whenever you touched him, the longing look in his eyes as you attempted to explain the basics of self-pleasure, and how frantically he had to leave after said conversation. Even if you were reading into this incorrectly, it would be nothing more than another movie night, which you'd never turn down.

He smiles again, nodding as he says, "You know what? Yeah, yeah that would be fun. Just gotta' tidy up before then," he finishes with a laugh, trying to remind himself that asking you to come over right now might be a step too far.

"Oh you know I don't care Cho, I'll take you however I can get you," you say as you search for the blush you expect to appear - and it does.

"Oh, y/n, he sighs, and the slight desperation in his tone made your stomach drop.

“Um, I know I've already said this today but would you hate me if I got off the call?" He asks, not so subtly seeking your permission. "I need a shower bad, hah," he says, putting emphasis on 'need'.

You give him his sought after permission, waving a quick 'bye' before he does the same, leaving the call with a sigh.

-

You breathe deeply, closing your laptop screen with a huff as you decide to leave the rest of your homework until later. If you had enough sense, you figured Choso was still sat on the other side of his desktop, fingers reaching into his waistband to finish what he had started earlier. You enjoyed the thought, imaging how sweet he'd sound when he found release for the first time.

You knew you had plans to make a move tomorrow, but you didn't want it to fall on deaf ears. If Cho was anything, it was oblivious, you think, remembering the poke of his tummy from earlier when you asked if he had ever touched himself. Bless his heart.

You stand to your dresser, pilfering through the countless pairs of boring underwear and bras to find the stash you usually kept for special occasions. You pulled out a whopping ten pairs of panties, all adorned with different lace patterns, bows, and varying pretty colors. You find two of your favorites - a lacy white pair with a tiny bow on the waistband that's entirely see-through, and a pastel pink thong covered in little hearts. You make sure to grab the matching bras that were thankfully clean. You lay them on the bed behind to you, snapping a quick picture before you return everything to your drawer.

You search through a lower drawer, pulling out two random pairs of shorts and some shirts to match. You quickly throw two outfits together, taking individual pictures of each before you shove everything back into the drawer. You sit back in the bed, snuggling under the covers as you pull up your messages.

‘[Attachment: 1 Image]’

‘[Attachment: 1 Image]’

‘HELLPPP’

‘can’t figure out what to wear for tomorrow❗️’

-

He breathes deeply, steadying himself as he stands to his feet. He still had to finish what he started, and a shower probably wouldn’t hurt with the mess he felt like he might make. He strips his clothes, leaving them in the floor as he makes his way to the bathroom.

He makes sure to bring his phone with him, ringer on and volume fully up. He had missed too many of your messages tonight, and he’d be damned if he missed another. He sits his phone on the nearby shower shelf, double checking the ringer was on.

The hot water quickly fogs the bathroom mirror as he looks down pitifully at his swollen cock, still hard and desperate as it cries for attention. He pictured your sweet face beneath him on your knees, doing the few things he could now imagine clearly. He knew you were the expert between the two of you, and he needed you to be the one to teach him what real pleasure felt like when it was given by your deft hands. He wouldn’t dare think of how sickly sweet it’d feel to rut into your mouth, how earth-shattering it’d be to bully his length deep into the goddess between your legs.

ding!

He’s pulled out of his trance, grabbing his phone with a smile as he sees your contact name shine brightly on the screen. He reads your message, then reads the incoming three, trying not to pick the image with the shorter bottoms - but he truly can’t help himself.

‘ummmmmm lemme think’

‘definitely the second one, the blue is NICE🙂‍↕️’ he responds, trying to sound like a regular person that was not at all interested in how your curves would sneak out of the bottom of your shorts.

He steps into the shower, shoulders dropping at the relaxing warmth. He hasn’t stopped picturing your face since he’s been home, but you so graciously gave him more eye candy to gawk at with the silly slip of your webcam. The low neckline of your top burned bright in his mind as he reaches his hand down again, wrapping his fingers gently around his width, leaving his thumb pressed softly into the prominent vein on the side. He wanted to try to mimic what he thought your touch would feel like - the brief flashes he got of your pretty hands typing away at your keyboard gave him all the information he needed to work with. He started slowly, dragging his large hand up before he thumbed his dripping slit, whining your name immediately at the contact. He pictures you again with your knee sliding up his thigh, hand firm on his shoulder while you whisper what he wishes were sweet nothings. He continues his soft hold as he strokes himself so sweetly, just like how he imagined you would. The pitiful noises he made earlier are now increasing ten-fold, loud whines echoing in the shower as he chases his release. He didn't realize how close he was already from the previous edging session he just brutally experienced. His cockhead was spitting now, the over-abundance of precum falling in stringy lines to the shower floor. He feels the pull in his groin again, so much quicker than he did last time, and it’s like he knew this was it.

It’s almost like you did, too.

‘ding! ding! ding!’

‘[Attachment: 1 Image]’

‘[Attachment: 1 Image]’

‘but you’ve gotta help me pick the full fit Cho🖤’ you send, internally squealing as you put your phone face down on the bed, forcing yourself to not look at the time he reads the message.

-

He stills his movements slightly, maintaining your his soft grip, reaching with his free hand to his phone, careful not to soak it as he brings it into the shower. The screen recognizes his face instantly, giving him a sneak peek of the lewd images you so graciously sent him as he feels his heartbeat in his ears - his heart rate increases so dramatically, he sees each pump of blood in the outskirts of his field of vision. He pauses for a moment, tightening the grip on his cock before he starts pumping furiously, nearly drunk on the pleasure as he whines breathy cries of your name. He opens the message and his jaw falls open, his pathetic cries of ‘please’ ‘more’ and ‘baby’ reverberating off the shower walls. In a fleeting moment, his balls clench tight to his pelvis and the pressure he felt pooling in his groin now snapped as his hips lurch forward, painting the shower floor white all for you as he tries to stabilize himself by holding onto the wall. He looks down through his almost blacked vision, surprised at the sheer volume of fluid he felt was being ripped from him. He kept cumming even after his hand had stilled, sharp jerks of his cock overstimulating him with each searing hot pump of liquid. He finally finishes with heavy breaths that threaten to turn into cries as he remembers the messages you sent him.

In his daze, he finds his phone wet in his hand as he rushes for his towel, wiping the screen quickly. Your messages still waiting to be answered that were sent a whole… 4 minutes ago.

‘y/n’

‘thank gou’

‘um’

‘areyou really asking me topick?,?’

Thank you? Was he drunk?

‘thank you?’

‘and yes dummy I’m asking you to pick :P’

And his heart quickens again.

‘thank you for sending me that’

‘I likeit a lot’

‘sorrymy pgones wett’

‘the pink one. please.’

He responds, making sure to type the last message clear as day.

‘why is your phone wet you nasty??’ you respond, laughing to yourself at his tangible nervousness that was apparent even via text.

‘showerrrrr’

‘and I don’t even get a pic back? wowww’ you respond, trying to see just how far you could take this before you head to bed for the night. You expect him to respond with a message filled with emojis as he skirts the question.

He finishes his shower quickly, unwilling to ruin his phone in an attempt to take a shower selfie. He steps out and dries off in a hurry, finding a nearby pair of jogging pants as he rushes back to his bedroom, hair dripping cold water down his back.

‘[Attachment: 1 Image]’ *

The warmth between your thighs grows as you selfishly save the image to your camera roll. You expected anything but his forward response - compared to the previous dearth of knowledge of how he looked under his clothes, you felt like he had sent you straight-up pornographic material.

‘you really outdid me, Cho’

‘who knew you were hiding all that?’

‘I’ll have to think of a way to repay you tomorrow 🖤 you’re so good to me’ you dote, knowing his affinity for praise.

He blushes, smiling hungrily as he types his response, wincing at the feeling when his half-hard cock jumped in response to your words.

‘i literally can’t wait’

pt. 2 coming

[wonder-worker]

What were the symbols of Margaret of Anjou, Elizabeth Wydeville and Elizabeth of York? Do we know why they chose them?

Hi!

Margaret of Anjou used the marguerite daisy, which was white tipped in red. We see it in the Talbot-Shrewsbury book and the ‘Book of the Skinners Company’ in 1475. This flower seems to have been a common symbol/emblem for women named Margaret in England: iirc, Margaret Holland Duchess of Clarence and her granddaughter Margaret Beaufort were also represented by it at times.

Elizabeth Woodville used a deep red gillyflower or clove pink. These were strongly associated with Virgin Mary's iconography; this specific shade symbolized virtuous love, betrothal and marriage; and it was also known as the ‘queen of delights’, giving it distinctly royal associations. Compared to both predecessor and her daughter, Elizabeth’s had no ‘default’ symbol to use, so she evidently got creative.

Elizabeth of York used the white rose of York, one of her father’s most important symbols. This was not just a personal emblem but distinctly dynastic: it emphasized Elizabeth's identity as the Yorkist heiress and contributed to Tudor image politics, in turn symbolized by their now-iconic red-and-white rose.

Hope this helps! If anyone wants to add anything, feel free <3

[ongolecharles]

DAILY SCRIPTURE READINGS (DSR) 📚 Group, Sat July 20th, 2024 ... Saturday of The Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time, Year B ... KNOW YOUR CATHOLICISM

THE ASSUMPTION OF MARY

There are two texts of Scripture most commonly used to “disprove” the Assumption of Mary.

1. John 3:13:

No one has ascended up to heaven, but he who descended from heaven, the Son of man.

If “no man” has ascended into heaven, wouldn’t that include the Blessed Virgin Mary?

2. I Cor. 15:22-23:

For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive. But every man in his own order: Christ the firstfruits; afterward they that are Christ’s at his coming.

If no one except Christ will be resurrected bodily before the Second Coming of Christ, would that not eliminate the possibility of Mary having been bodily assumed into heaven?

THE CATHOLIC RESPONSE

John 3:13 does not eliminate the possibility of the Assumption of Mary for four reasons.

1. St. John was quoting the actual words our Lord spoke when he wrote, “No one has ascended into heaven, but . . . the Son of man.” Jesus was merely saying that no one had ascended into heaven by the time he made that statement. That was long before the Assumption of Mary.

2. Jesus cannot be saying that no one else will ever be taken to heaven. If that is the case, then what is all this Christianity stuff about? You know, heaven and all.

3. If one interprets John 3:13 as speaking about Christ uniquely ascending to heaven, that would be acceptable. We would then have to ask the question: what is it about Jesus’ ascension that is unique? Well, the fact that he ascended is unique. Mary did not ascend to heaven. She was assumed. There is a big difference. Jesus ascended by his own divine power as he prophesied he would in John 2:19-21: “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up . . . he spoke of the temple of his body.” Mary was powerless to raise herself to heaven; she had to be assumed. The same could be said of all Christians. Jesus raised himself from the dead. Christians will be entirely passive when it comes to their collective “resurrection.”

4. St. John is demonstrating the divinity of Christ in John 3:13. Historically, we know St. John was writing against his archenemy, the heretic Cerinthus, who denied the divinity of Christ. St. John quotes these words from Jesus to demonstrate that the Savior “descended” from heaven and was both in heaven and on Earth as the “only begotten Son” (cf. 3:16) sharing his Father’s nature (cf. 5:17-18). Thus, he was truly God. St. John also emphasizes that even while “the Son of Man” walked the Earth with his disciples in Galilee, he possessed the beatific vision in his human nature. In that sense, his human nature (Son of Man) had already “ascended” into heaven inasmuch as it possessed the beatific vision, which is at the core of what heaven is. That is John’s theme in the text, not whether someone years after Christ could be assumed into heaven or not.

I Cor. 15:22-23:

1. We must remember that there are sometimes exceptions to general theological norms in Scripture. For example, consider Matt. 3:5-6: “Then went out to [St. John the Baptist] Jerusalem and all Judea and all the region about the Jordan, and they were baptized by him.” We know that “all” here does not mean “all” in a strict sense because we know, at least, Herod, Herodias, and her daughter, were exceptions to this verse (See Matt. 14:1-11). They conspired to put St. John to death. Not the best candidates for baptism! The bottom line: There are exceptions to Matt. 3:5-6. St. John the Baptist did not baptize everyone in “Jerusalem, Judea and the region around Jordan.” So Mary could be (and is, as we will see below) an exception to I Cor. 15:22-23.

2. There are exceptions to other general norms specifically laid out as true for “all” in Scripture. Hebrews 9:27 declares, “It is appointed for men to die once, and after that comes judgment.” Yet we see exceptions to this norm many places in Scripture by way of resurrections from the dead. Not only do we have Elijah, Elisha, Jesus, St. Peter and St. Paul raising the dead in Scripture, but after Jesus’ Resurrection, “the tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised, and [came] out of the tombs” (Matt. 27:52-53). These folks obviously did not “die once.” They died at least twice!

3. We have examples of other “assumptions” in Scripture. Both Enoch (cf. Gen. 5:24) and Elijah were taken up “into heaven” (II Kings 2:11) in a manner quite out of the ordinary. And so are the “two witnesses” of Revelation 11:3-13. Why couldn’t God do this with Mary?

4. We know that Mary is an exception to the “norm” of I Cor. 15:22-23 because she is depicted as having been assumed into heaven in Rev. 12. “And a great portent appeared in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun . . . she was with child . . . and . . . brought forth a male child [Jesus], one who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron” (12:1-5). Who was the woman who gave birth to Jesus? Mary! And there she is in heaven!

IS THE WOMAN OF REVELATION 12 MARY?

Many will object at this point and deny “the woman” of Revelation 12 is Mary. They will claim it is either the Church, or, as do dispensationalists, they will claim it is the Israel of old.

The Church acknowledges Scripture to have a polyvalent nature. In other words, there can be many levels of meaning to the various texts of Scripture. So, are there many levels of meaning to Rev. 12? Absolutely! Israel is often depicted as the Lord’s bride in the Old Testament (cf. Song of Solomon, Jer. 3:1, etc.). So there is precedent to refer to Israel as “the woman.” And Jesus was born out of Israel.

Moreover, the Book of Revelation depicts the New Covenant Church as “the bride of Christ” and “the New Jerusalem” (cf. Rev. 21:2). “The woman” of Revelation 12 is also depicted as continuing to beget children to this day and these children are revealed to be all “who keep the commandments of God, and have the testimony of Jesus Christ” (vs. 17). The Church certainly fits this description.

In fact, we argue as Catholics “the woman” to represent the people of God down through the centuries, whether Old Covenant Israel or the New Covenant Church, “the Israel of God” (Gal. 6:16).

THE FIRST AND LITERAL SENSE

All we have said about “the woman” of Revelation 12 representing the people of God down through the millennia of time does not diminish in any way the first and literal sense of the text as representing Mary. In fact, there are at least four reasons why one cannot escape including Mary when exegeting Revelation 12 and specifically the identity of “the woman.”

1. “The woman” in Rev. 12 “brought forth a man child, who was to rule all nations with an iron rod: and her son was taken up to God, and to his throne.” This child is obviously Jesus. If we begin on the literal level, there is no doubt that Mary is the one who “brought forth” Jesus.

2. Though we could discover many spiritual levels of meaning for the flight of “the woman” in 12:6, 14, Mary and the Holy Family literally fled into Egypt in Matt. 2:13-15 with divine assistance.

3. Mary is referred to prophetically as “woman” in Gen. 3:15, Jer. 31:22, and by Jesus as the same in John 2:4 and 19:26. Especially considering the same apostle, John, wrote the Gospel of John and the book of Revelation, it is no stretch to say St. John would have had Mary in mind when he used the familiar term “the woman” as the descriptor of the Lady of the Apocalypse.

4. There are four main characters in the chapter: “the woman,” the devil, Jesus, and the Archangel Michael. No one denies that the other three mentioned are real persons. It fits the context exegetically to interpret “the woman” as a person (Mary) as well.

HOW DO WE KNOW MARY IS BODILY IN HEAVEN?

Some may concede Mary to be the woman of Revelation 12, but the next logical question is: “How does this mean she is in heaven bodily? There are lots of souls in heaven, but they don’t have their bodies.”

It seems clear that “the woman” is depicted as having “the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown” (vs. 1). Elsewhere in Rev. and in other parts of Scripture, saints in heaven are referred to as the “souls of those who had been slain” (Rev. 6:9) or “the spirits of just men made perfect” (Heb. 12:23). Why? Because they do not have bodies! They are disembodied “souls” or “spirits.” But the “woman” of Rev. 12 is portrayed as having a body with a head and feet.

But perhaps even more important than this is the fact that “the Ark of the Covenant” is revealed as being in heaven in Rev. 11:19. This is just one verse prior to the unveiling of “the woman” of Rev. 12:1.

Some may respond at this point: “Who cares if the ‘Ark of the Covenant’ is said to be in heaven?”

This is crucial, because Hebrews 9:4 tells us what was contained within the ark: a portion of manna, the miraculous “bread from heaven” of Old Testament fame, Aaron’s staff, and the Ten Commandments. In fact, it was precisely because of these sacred contents that the ark was so holy, and that is precisely why it is here depicted as having been taken up to heaven.

The question is: Is the Ark of the Covenant depicted as being in heaven a “what” (an Old Testament box made of acacia wood overlain with gold in Exodus 25), or a “who?” I argue it not only to be a “who” but to be the Blessed Virgin Mary for these reasons:

Let’s first take a look at the text of Rev. 11:19:

Then God’s temple in heaven was opened, and the ark of his covenant was seen within in his temple; and there were flashes of lightning, loud noises, peals of thunder, an earthquake, and heavy hail.

In order to appreciate the identity of “the ark,” let’s first take a look at the identity of “the temple” that St. John sees as housing the ark. John 2:19-21 and Rev. 21:22 tell us quite plainly that the temple St. John speaks of is not a temple made of brick and mortar.

Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”. . .  But he spoke of the temple of his body (Jn. 2:21).

I saw no temple [in heaven], for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the lamb (Rev. 21:22).

When St. John views the temple in heaven, he is not viewing the Old Testament temple. He is viewing the true temple, which is Christ’s body. In the same way, St. John is not seeing the Old Covenant ark. He sees the new and true Ark of the Covenant. And remember: this would not just be talking about Mary but Mary’s body! It was Mary’s body that housed the Son of God, the fulfillment of the various types of Christ that were contained in the Old Covenant ark.

The conclusion is inescapable. Where is Mary’s body? In heaven, according to the Book of Revelation!

A FINAL OBJECTION

Some may argue at this point our energy was wasted in asserting Mary to be identified with “the woman” of Revelation 12 because this “woman” is depicted as “travailing” with the pangs of labor in verse 2. Thus, this cannot be the “Catholic” Mary.

TWO POINTS IN RESPONSE:

1. No matter which interpretation you choose—Israel, the Church, Mary, or all of the above—all interpretations agree: the labor pains of Rev. 12:2 are not literal pains from a child passing through the birth canal. This really should not be a problem at all.

2. From the very beginning of Mary’s calling to be the Mother of the Messiah, she would have most likely known her Son was called to be the “suffering servant” of Isaiah 53, Psalm 22, and Wisdom 2.

Mary’s “labor pains” began at the Annunciation and would continue from the cradle to the cross, where she suffered with her Son as prophesied in Luke 2:34-35 and as painfully fulfilled in John 19. Mary’s deep love for and knowledge of her divine Son brought with it pains far deeper than any physical hurt could ever cause. A body can go numb and cease to feel pain. But you can’t deaden a heart that loves, as long as that heart continues to love. Mary clearly chose to love. She was uniquely present for our Lord, from the Incarnation of Luke 1:37-38, to the birthing of his ministry in John 2, to the cross in John 19, and into eternity in Revelation 12.

***

【Build your Faith in Christ Jesus on #dailyscripturereadingsgroup 📚: +256 751 540 524 .. Whatsapp】

[hyukalyptus]

hi hp, i hope this is okay to ask and doesn’t come across as ignorant or naive but i’m thinking of having sex for the first time and coincidentally my partner is bigger than me (both taller and chubbier than i am)

would you have any tips about navigating that size difference? or any tips for having sex for the first time in general (i’m a virgin 🫣) he’s been really thoughtful and has the patience of a saint while we were getting to know each other but idk, being in bed together seems like it could be an entirely different dynamic? 😥

(i’m a ciswoman and he’s a cisman if that helps)

thanks in advance if you decide to answer this!

hiiii!!!! omg :,) i'm so happy you've been giving it a lot of thought and ur partner is doing the same and making sure you're comfortable. ik it's kinda changed up recently w a lot of ppl, but having sex for the first time is still a big deal to me. AND having sex for the first time w someone (as a non-virgin) is a big deal too! this is not naive or ignorant at all. ppl don't like talking about sex and sex ed typically sucks.

cw. i talk A LOT about my personal sexual preferences.

first time sex tips (obviously this is from my perspective!) -

of course ur already doing this, but make sure both of u are ready. but also ready in the moment. you can plan and plan for the perfect night but if you're not feeling it in the moment, that is totally okay. i doubt this will happen, but if he makes you feel like shit, kick his ass to the curb!! and then obviously, same goes for you. if he's not feeling it in the moment, be understanding and patient.

speaking of patience, sex in general takes a lot of trial and error, even having sex with someone new for the first time. ur learning about each other and each other's bodies and every single person is different. i know smut and movies make it seem like ppl kiss, stick it in, it feels good immediately, and then you cum and that is definitely not the case. but i also think that's what's fun about it! trying different things, maybe even things you never thought to try but the other person wants to and you find out its great!! take ur time trying different positions and speeds.

this is VERY personal but think about what you like when ur by urself. i feel like a lot of ppl do this where they're very aware of what feels good when theyre alone and think it should be something completely different with a partner. BUT that's not true!! if u like clit stuff by urself, it'll probably be important during sex too. ykwim? if he likes specific stuff w his body, try that too, ESP during foreplay.......like jerkin him off during foreplay is a rly common thing for me and they tend to like certain hand movements yk? so ask him what he likes :)

LUBE!! get lube and use it. there are different textures so maybe buy a few and see what u like. i prefer a jelly over something slicker. but try them out. they should sell them at a grocery store or a pharmacy. and condoms!!!!!! PLEASE use protection!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! cannot emphasize this enough.

don't get bummed if one of u (or neither) doesn't orgasm. typically, i'd say it's important to make sure everyone involved cums BUT the first time can be really nerve-wracking and u don't want to pressure urself to finish or make him finish ykwim? that can cause a lot of anxiety and just leave a bad taste in ur mouth. AND if ur just not feeling penetration anymore, feel free to stop a simply masturbate. he can help ya out.

size difference tips (again i will rly be oversharing) -

clit play is quite important for me and sometimes, if im w a cisman in missionary for example, his tummy will probably cover that SO i have them sit up kinda on their knees so i or he can access it. POINT BEING, it'll take trial and error to find positions that work for y'all and that is true with ANY partner, regardless of size. try different positions, use pillows to create different angles and DON'T be afraid to speak up when u don't like something! and tell ur partner to do the same (speaking of- have a safe word!).

doggy is usually pretty good for heigh difference BUT this can be overwhelming for me sometimes personally so again, don't be surprised if u don't like something and don't be disappointed! it's VERY normal to think you'll like something and then end up not liking it in real life. i still read smut with things i know i don't like irl but still like reading it. seated cowgirl is also a pretty good one for a size difference too!

-

i know that was a lot so i'm sorry if it overwhelmed you!! i'm happy to talk more if u want!!

[rightwheretheyleftme]

I love this epithet of Artemis! here’s another analysis of this story that I found really interesting:

“The apparently weird notion that the goddess is strangled was originally ascribed to a misunderstanding of an earlier ritual, whereby images of females—specifically vegetation deities—were hung from trees (apankhomenê has the meaning of “hanged” as well as “strangled”). However, it is now interpreted as a reference to the goddess’s virginity. Specifically, Helen King has argued that the death offered by strangulation/ hanging is bloodless, in contrast to acts of bodily penetration that result in bleeding, be this the bloody sacrifice of an animal or the defloration of a virgin on her wedding night (or, often in the mythology, rape). For a female to hang herself is to avoid penetration, and thus suicide by hanging is the “standard” means (or threat) of suicide for virgins attempting to avoid unwanted intercourse (Aesch, Suppl. 465 and 788; Lactantius Theb. 4.225 on the Karyatids; less sincerely, Eur. Hippolytos 776–785). “Strangulation can therefore be culturally opposed to unwanted sex.” As the “Strangled One,” Artemis thus reaffirms her unpenetrated, virginal nature.

An additional element might also be brought into play in this regard. The ancient Greeks recognized a parallelism between the vagina and the throat, both culminating in a mouth (cervix) and lips (labia). It was believed that upon defloration, a woman’s neck expanded, as her upper neck mirrored the opening experienced by her lower “neck.” Concomitantly, the newly deflowered girl’s voice deepened and became darker, in contrast to virgins’ voices which remained high and “pure” (hagnai) (Aesch, Agam. 244). Strangulation is, of course, the forceful closing off of the throat. By being “strangled” Artemis emphasizes the biological reality of her perpetual virginity—just as her upper throat is bound and closed off, so too is her lower “throat,” her vagina. Being strangled then not only provides a symbolic reference to her resistance to intercourse, it is also a biological reference to her unpenetrated vagina.” - Artemis (2016) by Stephanie Lynn Budin

Artemis Apankhomene, 'the strangled goddess'

"Apankhomene, 'the strangled goddess', is another surname of Artemis. Tradition claims that in the neighborhood of the town of Caphyae in Arcadia, in a place called Condylea, there was a sacred grove of Artemis Condyleatis.

Some children had playfully tied a rope around the neck of her statue and claimed she was strangled. As a result, the children were stoned to death by the villagers. Sometime later, the women of Caphyae were struck with a disease and all their children were stillborn.

The villagers saw this as a sign of the wrath of Artemis for stoning the children, and the Oracle ordered that the children be buried properly and that annual sacrifices be made to them since they were wrongly killed. From then on, Artemis was called Apankhomene, or 'Strangled' (Pausanias 8.23.6–7). This legend embodies the role of the goddess in children’s lives.

In her position as Kourotrophos, meaning 'bringing up boys' or 'rearing boys,' she protects their upbringing and leads them to adulthood, receiving dedications of children’s toys and garments."

- She Who Hunts: Artemis: The Goddess Who Changed the World by Carla Ionescu (pg. 44)

[matryosika]

temptation

pairing – minho x reader

word count – 7.3 k (this was supposed to be a drabble but i got too carried away).

warnings – smut 18+, religious and conservative reader, softdom!minho, virgin!reader, manipulation if you squint, corruption kink, dirty talk, guided masturbation? , petnames, praising, unprotected sex, body cumshot

note – please remember that, if you enjoy my work, you can tip me at ko-fi! tips are not obligated but, if you want to and are able to, i highly encourage you to leave one. even a dollar helps, really!!

also, english is not my first language so i aplogize for any mistakes in advance. i haven't read this, so i also apologize for any grammar mistakes made.

"according to your file," the dark-haired man in front of you mumbled. not just any dark-haired man, it was the substitute for miss eunji, therefore your new tutor and also the substitue professor for one of your university subjects, "you have attended schools only for women during your whole life, is that right?"

"why is that relevant?" you questioned shyly, your gaze fixed on the hems of your skirt while you were fighting the urges to make eye-contact with him.

"it isn't," he replied, his eyes leaving the sheet of paper in front of him picking up in the fact that you couldn't even face him, "i just thought it was interesting".

"it is better that way," you added, "attending to only-women schools".

"how is that better?" he queried, tilting his head slightly and smiling at your shyness.

"less temptations" you answered, still without being able to lift your gaze up, "that's what my mom says".

"is that what you think?" he questioned again, emphasizing the you.

"yeah, i think so" you replied, fidgeting with your fingers, "temptations take you away from the right path, so i try to stay away from them as much as possible".

minho rested his whole body on his leather office chair, feeling both amused and conflicted by your mindset.

the story of how he ended being a professor at a university conformed by only women students was long but, to make it shorter, he needed a good curriculum before earning his master's degree in international studies. since he already had his bachelor's degree, he decided to apply for a part time job as a substitute professor at ewha university for women. however, he didn't count on having to do these types of work. he wanted to teach, not being some sort of tutor/counselor.

"we are young" minho mumbled, not knowing how to carry the conversation. originally, the first meeting with you as your tutor was meant to talk about any difficulties you had related to college, professor or an specific subject. however, as soon as he read your file and curriculum, he couldn't help but ask questions related to your life, something that was not completely right, "we should be experiencing life, going out with friends, stuff like that".

"i have fun" you muttered, licking your lips while your eyes threatened to look up to him, "it's just... not the convencional way of having fun, i guess".

"do you have any hobbies?" he queried.

"i am part of a group in my local church" you replied, smiling softly while recalling the fun activities you did with them during the weekend, "i am also part of a book club and a debate club, i would consider those my hobbies".

"i see..." minho mumbled, his eyes analyzing every single fragment of the file the last teacher crafted specifically for you, "you have very remarkable grades. almost perfect, i must say".

"thank you sir", you replied, your cheeks turning red as you lifted your gaze to meet his.

much to your surprise, he was already looking at you, "you can just call me minho".

"i don't think that's appropriate, sir".

"i am only 3 years older than you" he shooted with a soft smile, almost too welcoming.

too tempting.

"but you are my professor," you rushed to say, blinking in several occasions due to the nervousness, "i must treat you with respect".

"i would prefer if you call me by my name" he said softly, giving you a reassuring smile, "just think of me as a friend".

you nodded slightly and gave him a confused look.

attending schools were only women students were allowed really affected your social and conversational skills with men. you hardly ever spoke to one, other than those who conformed your family, so being in front of a tempting, yet soft-spoken man was something that mad you feel uneasy.

the way he looked at you, to be more precise, made you feel uneasy. whether it was during class or right there during your private meeting, you couldn't help but feel a strange sensation on your lower abdomen every time he laid his eyes on you. you couldn't describe it or explain it, but it felt unfamiliar.

"as far as i am concerned, these meetings are meant to help you out with any troubles you could be having related to school, assignments, subject or professors" he listed, gathering the sheets of paper that were scattered all over his desk, "is there something i can help you with?"

you looked at him for a few seconds in silence, your heart pounding fast while your breathing acquired a sketchy pace, "i don't have any issues with school at the moment" you mumbled, your cheeks glowing red as you considered the idea of trusting him, "however i do want to talk about something".

a look of surprise was imprinted on his face as soon as he heard you saying those words, genuine concern and interest grew inside him by the minute.

"go on," he mumbled, his body tensing up slightly while he separated from his leather chair, "like i said, you can think of me as a friend".

you gave him a quick smile before going back to your anxious countenance, your sweaty hands fidgeting against each other while your right leg did repetitive movements against the floor. up and down.

"do you... have any hobbies?" you queried, your question taking him a bit by surprise.

"yeah, i do" he replied, almost confused by how embarrassed you looked while asking that question, "i like going out with my friends during the weekends, reading, drinking, watching videos on my cellphone, researching..."

"do you go to parties often?" you interrupted, your eyes shining while the conversation started to flow a bit more casual than before.

"i do, yeah" he scoffed, knowing that –based on the previous conversation you both had– you were probably not allowed to attend to them, "they are very fun, specially when close friends are there".

"do you drink?"

"casually"

"do you smoke?"

"not my thing" he mumbled, laying back on his seat again, "how are these questions related to the tutoring session?"

"they aren't" you rushed to explain, "you just make me kind of curious".

"you don't have much male friends, do you?" he inquired, losing all the professionalism he was supposed to have, being now a young professor. still, you didn't seem to mind it.

"not really," you shook your head, parting your gaze from him, "like i said before, they are a temptation and they must be avoided".

he nodded slightly and agreed, even though he didn't really shared the same mindset as you.

still, he thought it was kind of sad.

you were strikingly attractive and you could have any person you wanted with the snap of a finger. however, you were not quite interested in that.

and that was a tragedy because, ever since the first time he saw you inside that classroom, sitting on your desk with both of your legs crossed, he knew that you could've had him at your mercy if you would've wanted to.

"i see" minho mumbled, his eyes lost in the endearing way you looked at him, "women are a temptation as well, you know?"

"it's different" you rushed to say, the sensation on your lower abdomen intensifying each time you locked your eyes with his, "men only want one thing, that's why they are a temptation for us".

"and women don't want that too?" minho replied, trying his hardest to divert the conversation to any other friendly topic that didn't involve talking about sex with one of his students.

"i don't" you shyly admitted, lowering your gaze again and fixing it on the pattern of your skirt again, "or at least i think so".

the last part came out more as a whisper than actual words, but the dark-haired substitute still managed to pick on them.

"it is completely natural" he explained, again, fighting the urges to make such an awkward conversation any longer than it needed to be, "it's not a matter of religion it's just... human needs".

"it's a sin."

"if you are looking through the lense of religion, then it is." minho replied.

as twisted as it sounded, he couldn't deny te tension he felt towards you at that exact moment. of course, he never thought of you that way before.

he had promised to himself that he was going to be as professional as he could in order to perform well at his new job but, right now, having you in his office in front of him with such innocence and curiosity imprinted on your face, he couldn't help but think about all sorts of filthy things he would like to teach you.

"how else can i look at it?" you genuinely questioned, licking your lips nervously, "my whole life i have been told that it is wrong, that's what they have taught me".

"why is that?" minho counter-attacked, "you must have a good answer other than because it goes against god's word".

however, he was wrong.

your whole life you were taught to think of sex like something repulsive, something dirty. something that shouldn't be discussed nor performed. something that was reserved for only old adults that loved each other and were united in marriage by the power of god.

but you didn't know why it was that wrong.

"i don't know" you whispered again, your cheeks turning bright red by the second.

minho licked his lips and spreaded his legs, feeling the familiar –yet inconvenient– pressure on his bulge.

"having sex or feeling attracted to the idea of having sex it is not a sin" he mumbled, "it is something natural, something that your body needs".

"how do you know when your body needs it?" you questioned and, for the first time in the whole meeting, you could listen him swallowing hard.

"i don't think we should-"

"please" you pleaded, lifting your gaze up and focusing on him, "i want to know more about it".

minho gave you a hesitant look before diverting his gaze to the clock hanging from the wall in his office.

19:32.

"y/ln i don't think it's an appropriate topic to be discussed during these tutoring sessions" he spitted, mentally slapping himself for even thinking about joining that little game you were innocently trying to play.

"you said i could think of you as a friend" you muttered with some despair in your voice, "and friends help each other out when they have doubts, isn't that right?"

minho closed his eyes slowly for a second, reconsidering all the unprofessional stuff he said during the meeting that leaded him to end up in this situation.

"when you look at me," you continued, your eyes fixing on his while you tilted your head, "i feel weird, like a chill traveling along my body. my whole skin feels a lot hotter, and i feel some sort of pressure in my lower abdomen".

when he heard you mouthing out those words, he knew that he could no longer hold back or resist you. even if it was wrong, due to the academic relationship you two had, he was determined to move forward.

"what else do you feel?" he queried, his body tensing up again while he leaned on into his desk.

"i feel something" you shyly admitted, your gaze falling all the way to your shoes again.

minho swallowed hard, his bulge inside of his pants growing harder everytime you spoke. "and that something, does it feel good?"

"it does" you replied, "never in my life i've felt that before, or maybe i have but not as much as i feel it when you look at me".

minho stood up from his chair and walked all the way to the chair next to yours, sitting down with his legs spreaded open while he leaned forward to try and cover his bulge.

"so, minho" you whispered, the lingering eerie feeling of calling a figure of authority by his name, "have you ever had it before?"

"sex?" minho replied, his deep and intense gaze admiring every single inch of your body now that he was closer to your figure, "yes, i have".

"i am curious," you continued, "to know how it all feels like".

"look" minho mumbled, his guilty gaze looking at the door of his office –that felt maybe too formal for a 23 year old– and then at you, "i don't mind moving forward, but we should be doing this here".

you were too nervous to even second guess your decision, and only noticed that you were still inside of the university campus until he pointed it out. your body turned around to face the clock on the wall, 19:40.

"i have to be home by eight" you mumbled, trying to tell him that you didn't have much time. the trajectory from college to your house was at least 25 minutes long and, after being in a complete oblivion the whole meeting, an inevitable sentiment of fear started growing inside you. "god, my mom is going to kill me".

"you are staying at my place tonight." he mumbled, seeing your accelerated movements while you frantically stood up from your seat, "tomorrow it's another day and we can think about a solution".

"no, you don't understand" you rushed to say, picking up your backpack from the floor and rushing to the door of the office, "you don't know her, she is probably mad right now, she is going to p-"

"y/n" minho's deep voice interrupted you, almost serenenting you. the man stood up from his seat and approached your figure by the door, one of his hands softly touching your waist and automatically making you squirm under his touch.

he smiled, cute.

"can you please answer something for me?" he questioned, your whole body tensing while you felt the warmth of his palm against your body. even if you were fully clothed, you could swore you felt your skin burning, ablazing.

"y-yes?" you muttered, your glossy eyes raising up to meet his.

"do you trust me?"

you blinked once, twice and even three times, trying to containing the tears. only then, the realization hitting you like a velocity train.

this was wrong, in so many levels. not only it was against your beliefs, but it could get you in trouble at college too. a professor working at an only-women univeristy, hanging out with one of his students? it could get him fired and you in a lot of trouble, even expelled.

sure, he was almost the same age as you and, if you had met him in a completely different context, then things would've been slightly different. but this whole situation represented a lot of danger, not only for you but for him as well.

"we can get in trouble" you whispered, your hand resting on the door handle, "it is not a matter if i believe if this is right or wrong, but you shouldn't be doing this either".

"i shouldn't be doing a lot of things and i still do them because i want to" he replied, his body leaning in closer to you.

his warmth, his smell, the way his breath caressed your cheek. it was all new and extremely exciting for you, making ravages inside of your mind. the sudden urge of submitting to his presence was too strong for you to handle it and, even when you had absolutely no knowledge of these situations, you wanted to learn from him.

you wanted him to teach you everything there was to know about it.

his head slightly tilted to face the clock to his right, the corners or his lips twisting in a smile. 19:45. "seems like you are not going to be home in time" he softly teased, his heart skipping a beat or too as he admired the fear and arousal in your eyes, "why don't you let me take care of you tonight?"

"but-"

"we will figure out tomorrow an excuse" he whispered in your ear, his hand traveling from your waist to your lower back, pulling you closer, "but tonight, i will take care of you, alright?"

you nodded slightly, giving in at the number one temptation you were warned about your whole life: men.

but how can you resist minho? everything about him was inviting to you, from the way he talked to the way his eyes scanned every single part of your body. the irrational part of you always dreamed about giving in to sin, and it was all his fault.

countless nights you found yourself thinking about him, feeling that same pressure on your lower back that was only relieved each time your hips moved in circular motions against the mattress. and, even then, the feeling didn't go away until you finally fell asleep.

some days, you would woke up in the middle of your sleep feeling a warm sensation in between your legs after a disastrous dream with him. you would pray over and over again for forgiveness for even thinking about those things even in your dreams.

but to answer his initial question, and for a completely unknown reason to you: yes, you trusted him.

"take me with you, please".

you awaited for him a few blocks away from college, agreeing in taking different paths to avoid be seen or recorded by the security cameras at the entrance of the campus. as you walked away, both of your hands holding on for dear life to your backpack, you felt the sudden urge to run.

run away from your temptations and from your sins.

but at the same time, your body didn't cooperated with your mind. your body was eager to be educated, to explore, to learn. your body needed his touch, your body needed to experience those feelings people talked about in movies or t.v. shows that you usted to watch behind your mother's back.

and you knew that, judged by the warm feeling between your legs.

you waited for him at the nearest bus stop, sitting down at the bench while you covered part of your thighs with your backpack, holding it against your body with trembling hands.

minho's black sports car didn't took long to appear into your vision, slowing down as he approached the bench you were sitting on. as the true gentleman he was, he got out of the car to open the door for you.

the rest of the trip was spent in silence, the only audible things were the soft song playing on on the radio, your heart beats and you accelerated breathing. minho turned to face you every once in a while, offering you a soft and reassuring smile each time.

your gaze fixed on the way his hands maneuvered the steering wheel, the veins popping on his arms making your body squirm in your seat. you were too into him to even think things through, you simply couldn't.

he was intoxicating and you were not strong enough to fight someone like him.

"what are you thinking about?" he queried without parting his gaze from the road.

"you are very attractive" you whispered, not bothering to look away once he caught you lost in his image.

he gave you a side smile that slowly turned into a smirk. he knew that, but he liked hearing it from you.

he always found pleasure in corruption. watching people become their worst yet best versions of themselves. it was just too thrilling, to ruin a pretty body and a pretty mind. and it was even more thrilling when that pretty body and mind also came with a pretty face and endearing personality, like you had.

"and you are beautiful" he replied.

simple, blunt and, most importantly, completely honest.

he knew it since the very first time he saw you sitting inside that classroom, how you were going to wreak havoc inside him. even so, he managed to stay and act professionally throughout the whole semester, only falling into the sweet temptation once you admitted that you felt exactly the same about him.

that's why you were so special. because he had been craving you since he met you, but you were merely just a fantasy to him. something he wanted to have, but that he mentally convinced himself that he wouldn't.

until that night, of course.

the sudden stop of the vehicle interrupted your trail of thoughts, your eyes analyzing every single part of the environment you were in. it was a parking lot, from an apartment complex.

he opened the door for you, allowing you to get out of the car while you fixed your skirt. "you live alone?" you asked him.

"i have been living alone for a while now, yeah" he replied, pushing the buttons outside of the elevator as you two waited patiently, "besides working as a substitute teacher on ewha, i also work in research projects. they pay off really well".

"i can tell" you whispered to yourself. judged by only the parking lot and the cars there, you automatically picked up the fact that you were probably in a very luxurious neighborhood.

money, another temptation.

as the elevator doors opened and you got inside, the whole mood surrounding the both of you shifted. like magic. going from being painfully awkward to an interesting tension, you caught minho staring at you every once in a while.

"how was your first kiss?" he bluntly asked, out of the blue. you choked on your own saliva, coughing slightly while your eyes opened like plates.

"oh, i-" you mumbled, licking your lips "it was- mess".

minho cocked one of his eyebroys in surpise, his gaze fixed on the silver doors that were now starting to open slowly in front of the both of you, "why was that?"

he stepped outside of the elevator and you followed him, walking along a hallway that seemed straight out of a very expensive hotel. "it was a dare" you replied, your eyes sticked to carpet beneath your shoes, "in highschool. one of my girl friends introduced me her neighbors and we were just fooling around. i felt awful afterwards".

minho opened the door to his apartment and, much to your surprise, it was more minimalistic than you thought it would be. everything was white, except for the furniture that was either beige, black or the same color as the rest of the place.

"it felt awful because you felt guilty or it felt awful because it was a bad kiss?" he queried, placing the keys on a small coffee table next to the door and closing it right behing him.

"we were like 16" you shyly replied, "i don't think he even knew how to kiss someone properly".

minho turned around with a soft smirk, gently cornering your body between his and his door. your whole body started shaking in anticipation, the warmth between your legs returning as soon as minho's face was mere centimeters away from your face, "do you want to know how it really feels to be kissed?" he questioned with a deeper voice. his gaze was now completely dark, his breathing was a bit faster than usual and his glistening lips were almost driving you to the edge.

but you were already committed to it.

"please," you whispered, tilting your head slightly, "please teach me".

and without losing any more time, his lips crashed into yours. slowly, very slowly. your heart pounding faster than before, just in the middle of it you wondered what the hell you were going to do. you didn't know how to kiss and, based on the previous chat you two had, he seemed to have a lot of experience.

still, you were a fast learner. picking up on what he did, you decided to do the same. gently brushing your lips against his, his tongue swiftly touching yours with slow motions, his teeth gripping your lower lip and earning a sweet, unknown sound out of you.

"it feels good, doesn't it?" he asked you still with your lips brushing against each other and both of your eyes closed.

"yes, minho".

his hands traveled from your hips to your arse, caressing it softly while he lifted the fabric of your skirt up. god. you sighed at the action, feeling timid at the thought of someone else seeing your naked body.

"you have such a pretty body, you know that?" he mumbled, his touch sending shivers down your spine, "very, very, very pretty body".

his hands found the hems of your underwear, slightly pulling it down and off of your legs. you flinched at the action and he noticed it, locking his gaze in an intense eye contact with you while your panties made their way down to the floor. "it's okay, angel" he whispered, his eyes imprinting the image of your lustful gaze into his mind, "i will take care of you, i promised it".

you nodded slightly, wanting to hide your face in the crook of his neck due to embarrassment. you knew that your underwear was a mess, you could feel the wetness in your core as soon he stripped your panties off of you.

"we have to make an agreement" he mumbled with both a lustful but more serious tone than before, pulling your skirt down again after he finished removing your underwear, "if i do something that you don't like, you have to say a word and i will stop".

"which word?" you muttered, slightly squeezing your thighs together almost instinctively.

his eyes scanned the whole living room of his own apartment, thinking long and hard about a distinctive safe word only to end up with a very common one, "red".

"red" you repeated to yourself, making sure to not forget it.

"if you want me to stop, just say the word," he explained his hand traveling from your arse onto your lower back, pulling your vulnerable body against him one more time, "if i do something you don't like, or you don't feel comfortable with, say the word and i will stop".

you nodded in agreement, feeling how his hand pushed you slightly away from the door. he started walking towards a black door located next to the living room and you followed him right after, wondering what was next for you.

but just as you were about to enter his room, your phone rang inside of your backpack.

"don't pick up" he ordered you, shooting a glance at you once he saw you stopping in silence, "you are with me now".

the way he said those words was both frightening and comforting. you found him intimidating but, at the same time, he made you feel protected. even if things were chaotic outside of his small apartment, he managed to brainwash your pretty brain just fine. as long as you were with him, the real world was alright.

"get inside" he commanded, opening the door for you and revealing a not-so-different but pretty neat bedroom. the thing that captured your attention the most was the wall in front of him that was fully covered in mirrors.

he closed the door right behind him, a devilish grin appearing on his face as soon as he saw your curious eyes glancing at the mirror, "don't you look pretty?"

his body approached you from behind, your eyes lost in the reflection of both figures, "it's such a timely event to have these around" he whispered into your ear, talking about the wall of mirrors right in front of his bed, "that way, you will be able to see everything".

suddenly, you felt pressure against your arse. his hands were resting on your hips, tracing the sides of your body every now and then while your gaze got lost in the mirror, not being able to look away for any reason.

"have you ever touched yourself?" minho asked, knowing exactly the answer he wanted to hear.

and if god existed, he probably heard his thoughts.

"no" you shook your head, your body instinctively brushing against his bulge, "i don't know how to".

"why don't i teach you?" he questioned so casually, his ablazing touch burning every single area on your body he touched. you nodded slightly, feeling how he pulled you against him as he walked slightly backwards to meet the edge of the bed, sitting on it while having your back against his chest and your naked core on his lap. "i want you to watch yourself through the mirror" he commanded, lifting your skirt up and exposing completely your core. you couldn't help but look away, not being brave enough to face such image, "can you do that for me, angel? can you be a good girl and follow my rules?"

you looked at him for a few silent seconds before being determined to fulfill your task. your face turning slowly to look at the mirror one more time while his hands took charge into teasing your body, dragging themselves along your thighs and leaving a burning sensation on them.

"look at you," he whispered softly, one of his digits slowly tracing your wetted slit while your whole body squirmed in its place, "does this always happens?"

"it happens when i dream of you" you admitted, feeling your juices coating his digits.

"you dream of me, hm?" he hummed, slightly touching your core as a way of getting you used to his touch. he couldn't help but smile at every sigh that escaped your lips and every sudden movement your body made against his, "how often do you dream of me?"

"constantly" you whimpered, your eyes fixed on the way his slimmed fingers trace your entrance. before continuing with his task, he grabbed one of your hands and guided you all the way to your core, your inexperienced self not knowing exactly what to do.

"with your middle and index finger," he softly instructed, his prominent bulge grazing against your lower back and arse, "you are going to caress yourself here". he placed your digits over your budle of nerves, moving it ever so slightly in circular motions while you let out a deep sigh, "keep doing that for me, will you?"

you nodded in agreement, feeling your cheeks glow red. if this was a sin, why did it felt this good?

you slowly continued with your movements, only stopping once you felt one of minho's fingers stretching your cunt. the sudden pain and awkward feeling made you let out a faint cry, your gaze lost in the way his finger dissappeared inside your hole.

"it may hurt a bit, angel" he numbled with his lips against your shoulders and his gaze lost in the way you unconsciously spreaded your legs even more for him, "but i promise you that it will feel good later".

you bit your lower lip as he started to acquire a soft pace, his digit going in and outside of you at a ver slow rythm, "keep touching yourself for me, please" he pleaded once he saw you stopped, following his orders right away.

and only then, you understood what he meant. the mixture between his fingers and yours was heavenly, too good to be true. and, as he increased his pace, you did the same. your hips bucking up slightly at the feeling, wanting more and more each time an unfamiliar pressure built up in your lower abdomen. soon, one finger was not enough and he took it into account, inserting a second one after he realized how well you were taking him.

"that's it" he praised, looking at how you closed your eyes shut while a series of cries and whimpers left your lips, "you are such a good girl, you are doing so good for me".

you moaned at his words, the sound of his voice only contributing more to your own arousal. the movement of his fingers increased dramatically, forcing you to increase your pace as well while the sweet taste of an unknown sensation started to wash up on your body.

"minho" you moaned with a desperate tone, your legs slightly closing at the overwhelming feeling, "god, i-"

"just let go," he ordered, his available hand forcing your legs opened while the other continued with his work, "be a good girl and cum for me".

never in your life you had touched yourself, let alone having an orgasm. you couldn't quite understand what was happening inside you, but the feeling was too good to be pushed away. still, your hand that was previously rubbing your bundle of nerves, soon found itself trying to push minho's hand away from your core, both of your legs threatening to close shut, "this feels so-".

"come on, angel" minho groaned between his teeth, managing to keep on rubbing your clit with his thumb all while you tried to push his hand away as an instinctive movement, "cum all over my fingers, show me how good i made you feel".

and without being able to hold the sweet explosion inside you, you finally let go. toes curling up, eyes rolling to the back of your head and your body slightly covered in sweat trembling under his arms... it was such a heavenly sight for minho. the way his name slipped off of your lips while you cummed, the sound of your whimpers and moans and the way you held yourself tight against his body as if you were going to crumble down at that exact moment was all he needed to cum right there with you.

but he needed to wait a little longer. he needed to mark you forever, ruin both your pretty body and pretty mind.

"good girl" he praised, admiring how your weak body came from your first high, "you did so well, taking everything i gave you".

"it felt so good" you whispered, your teary eyes and rosy cheeks making minho's bulge twitch inside of his pants, "i never thought- i didn't know it would feel like this".

"it felt good, yeah?" he questioned, his eyes looking at the sight of your hardened nipples beneath your shirt.

"it felt more than good" you replied with hitching breath, your throbbing cunt exposed completely to the reflection in the mirror, "i just-".

"i can keep on making you feel good, angel" he mumbled against your ear, your whole body covering on goosebumps, "may i?"

with no inhibitions or shyness, you nodded almost too eagerly. you stood up from his lap, fixing your skirt and your blouse. he stood up immediately after you, revealing something that you were not prepared to see.

he was big. maybe too big.

he smiled while he saw your gaze fixed on his growing bulge, "you caused this, angel".

you raised your eyes to meet his, his penetrative glance telling you more than his words could ever say. his body approached yours, his desperate hands removing the rest of your articles of clothing until the very last one, leaving you completely naked in front of him and the mirror.

and, even when he was the first person to ever see you like this, you felt far from shy.

the way he looked at you with such lustful eyes made you feel proud, for an unknown reason. his hungry eyes traveling along your body only confirmed the statement he spitted earlier that day: women were also a temptation.

but that didn't matter now, when you were completely naked and at his mercy, ready to take anything and everything he was about to give you.

"do you have any idea how many times i thought of you like this?" he asked you, pulling your naked body against his while his bulge made pressure on your lower abdomen and your hardened nipples grazed against the rough fabric of his shirt, "do you have any idea how many times i came with the thought of your pretty body underneath me begging for me to fuck it and use it?"

the words he used made your thigh squeeze together, such filthy sentences coming from such pretty lips only reminded you of how tempting lee minho was.

"you have no idea, angel".

"why don't you-" you mumbled, "why don't you show me?"

he gave you a soft smile, withdrawing your body from him while he undressed for you. his soft skin looked extremely appealing, a caramel shade. on his abs there was a small scar, maybe too small to be perceived with a quick glance but, if anything, it only made his body ten times more attractive.

removing his pants and underwear, there was the thing you had been anticipating the most. and as soon as you saw him in its entirety, the walls inside your cunt clenched around absolutely nothing.

"get on the bed angel" he ordered, "can you do that?"

you followed his command with no hesitation, laying down on the bed while you opened your legs for him, holding both of your thighs with your hands. he smiled at the realization that he didn't even had to ask you for you to spread your legs. your body instinctively did it.

"are you sure you want this?" minho asked with a raspy voice, his eyes fixed on your dripping cunt. you didn't took long to reply with a subtle nod, your heart racing at ten miles per hour once you saw his firm body leaning against yours. "it might hurt a little bit, but i know you can take it, angel".

and, with that being said, a painful pressure against your tight entrance was quick to appear, followed by a loud groaned from minho himself.

"oh-" you whimpered, closing your legs around him while he slowly thrusted himself deep inside you, "it hurts-".

"shhhhhhh" he whispered, his whole body resting on his forearms while he enjoyed the delicious feeling of your tight, weak walls clenching around his cock, "you can take it all the way in".

you closed your eyes and arched your back against the mattress, the strange feeling of his length inside you making you cry a tear or two because of the pain.

"you are doing so. so. well" he panted, both of your bodies meeting again once his cock was buried deep inside your tight hole, "my angel".

you opened your eyes slightly, finding minho's eyes already fixed on yours. he was too attractive, too seductive. the way he breathed, the grimaces of pleasure he made and the way small groans escaped from his lips each time you clenched around him were enough stimuli for you to start feeling more pleasure than pain, your hips moved in circles against minho as a way to tell him that you were completely ready to take him.

"my pretty angel," he grunted, looking at how your body reacted to him, "so desperate to have me already?"

"i am sorry" you apologized shyly, feeling both aroused and pathetic.

"don't be" he mumbled, pulling himself out of you only to thrust his length in you again, earning another whimper from you, "it turns me on, seeing how desperate you are for me".

his hips started to acquire a pace and, honestly, you would be lying if it said it didn't hurt. but as soon as you felt his thumb rubbing your clit in circles, the now very familiar sensation started to build inside you again.

"look at how well you take my cock inside that pretty cunt of yours" minho praised, his eyes lost in the way your breast bounced every time he pounded his cock inside you, "you clench around me like you had been dreaming of this exact moment for months now, haven't you?"

your cheeks started to feel warmer after such an statement, knowing that it was true. no matter how hard you tried to push those thoughts away on your daily basis, they always came back at night, when you were asleep.

"m-more" you moaned, your hips rolling against his with soft movements in an attempt to intensify the sensations even more.

"you want me to go slower?" he teased, the movement of his hips decreasing dramatically while you whined.

"n-no, please" you begged, your glossy eyes looking directly at him, "faster"

"you want me to go faster?" he queried, "is my angel needy for my cock?"

you nodded without giving him a proper answer. still, your fucked out eyes and your trembling body said anything he needed to know at that point.

and, after teasing you for a while, he finally gave you what you wanted. matching the pace of his hips with the one on his digits, the familiar warmth inside you started to spread rapidly throught your whole body, the electricity traveling from your head to the tip of your toes.

"i feel it again" you cried, closing your legs around his hips, "god, it feels more intense".

"take me" he groaned, leaning into tour body slightly while still caressing your bundle of nerves, "take everything i am giving you and show me how much you are enjoying it".

and as a reflex, you arched your back. minho's soft lips went immediately after one of your hardened buds, sucking and licking on them while your hands traveled all the way to his dark hair.

"minho" you cried, all the overwhelming sensation becoming one, "don't stop, please, don't stop, don't -"

the dark-haired smirked against your breasts, realizing who he turned you into.

someone with no inhibitions, someone who would rather think with her impulses rather than her head. from being a religious, pure college student to a needy, hungry cockslut... he felt proud both of you and what he did.

it was beautiful to see you let go like this, specially when it was for him.

"minho, i am cumming" you cried, arching your back while his hips aggressively bucked into yours, the pace of his fingers against your clit making you shake uncontrollably under him.

"keep going" he groaned, still fucking your cunt, "keep cumming around my cock".

and as you predicted, that orgasm was ten times more intense than your first and previous one.

you clenched around him several times before falling into overstimulation, your vulnerable body crying everytime minho's cock reached the special spot that helped you approach your high the previous times.

he wasn't far from his orgasm as well, but he needed to imprint your image on his brain, in case this was the last time he was going to see you like this.

and only after a few seconds, his cock started to twitch inside of you, warning him that he was just as close to his release.

with a swift movement he pulled himself out of you, milking his cock until the very last drop. your naked abdomen and breasts suddenly became stained with his hot arousal, making the pure and innocent image slowly fade away until it was converted into your pretty body all fucked dumb and covered with his own cum.

such a pleasent sight for a filthy act.

"you should know that," minho panted, one of his hands slowly caressing your knee while you kept your legs spreaded for him, "you look beautiful as a sinner".

[blackgirlcinephiles]

Incoming: Long Post

*Steps on soap box*

*Clears throat*

BEHOLD!

A collection of Black YA romance novels I need TV/Film adaptations for! Right! NEOOOOW!

Over the past few months, I’ve had the pleasure of reading a lot Black YA romance. And what makes me so excited about these books is that they didn’t just tell a good story, but also imparted strong messages about what it means to share a healthy love between family, between friends, and between lovers of course.

Today I want to talk about these books (sans too many spoilers, seriously go read them for yourself!) and the love lessons we can learn from them.

Lesson 1: A healthy love prioritizes trust and respects boundaries.

Joya Goffney has quickly become one of my favorite Black YA authors for several reasons. If there’s one thing she can do, it’s tell an entertaining, well-rounded story.

In Excuse Me While I Ugly Cry, she explores themes of racial identity, class tensions within the Black community, and the feelings of shame, guilt, and pressure that come with trying to understand yourself as a Black teen in this world. In Confessions of an Alleged Good Girl, she explores themes of sexual agency and sex positivity, specifically within the context of southern Black Christianity, and how traditional framings of sex and virginity can leave girls in a vulnerable position, without the knowledge needed to assert themselves within romantic/sexual relationships.

Despite being centered around different topics, I found that both of these novels emphasized the importance of being able to trust in your partner. In Excuse Me While I Ugly Cry, when a trust was broken between our leading couple, working to rebuild it through shared vulnerability was an essential apart of the reconciliation process. In romantic relationships, vulnerability is inevitable, but respect for your partner’s timing should come first.

In Confessions of An Alleged Good Girl, the most freeing and affirming romantic relationship was the one where physical limitations and bodily autonomy were acknowledged and respected, no debate. Being in a romantic relationship does not entail entitlement to your partner’s body and the story really drove that home.

These messages are important for people of any age to hear, but especially for young teens having their first experiences of romance. There can be so many instances where you simply go along with things, because you don’t know any better and you assume that its the way things are. Being able to trust your partner with innermost feelings/secrets and your body is a crucial part of healthy relationships.

Lesson 2: Romance is about effort.

Now that I’m thinking about it, it’s kind of insane the amount of similarities these two novels have while still being wholly unique. Both books include a radio show about love advice, a protagonist wounded by a past friendship betrayal, and wonderful supporting characters who make the story more coloful.

But probably the most satisfying way these novels resemble each other is how the romance is built between the protagonists. Despite rocky beginnings for both couples, connections are built through mutual effort to understand each other’s passions/interests and support one another in their endeavors. These novels probably have the cutest, most swoon-worthy first date moments and it’s entirely because we can see how each protagonist took the time to come up with a creative way to get to know their love interest while also connecting with their passions.

More and more, on social media in particular, it seems that people equate effort or “applying pressure” with doing the fanciest, most expensive activity right off the bat. But like with giving gifts, the best present isn’t always the most expensive one. Rather it’s the one that’s the most thoughtful. That shows you’re paying attention and that you remembered the small, silly, weird details that would otherwise be forgotten.

Lesson 3: Love is a choice worth making.

The last book in this collection is Zyla & Kai by Kristina Forest, who is also quickly becoming another favorite author of mine. What I love about this book is the way the author went about building the narrative leading up to the big reveal. The message was so clear: Things between Zyla & Kai have always been quite simple. It’s everyone and everything else that makes it complicated.

Throughout the story there are so many external forces creating obstacles for Zyla and Kai. Their families, their peers, their pasts, and their futures are all pulling them in opposite directions. Yet, despite these challenges, Zyla and Kai always choose each other and make an active decision to make it work. To try again one more time. Their love story illustrated the idea, that while love can be simple, it’s also a choice that you make everyday.

I hope this post sparks some interest in these books if you haven’t heard of them before. And if you have, what did you think of them? Do you have a favorite?

While some of these books would work well as movies, there are others that I would want as a limited series. All of the books novels, so the story begins and ends and probably shouldn’t be drawn out for multiple seasons, but there a few where I would want to spend a bit more time with the characters than a film would afford. What say you?

[ctl-yuejie]

How the diverse world of the addictive tv series “Cherry magic” got made

(interview with scriptwriter Yoshida Erika by Yokogawa Yoshiaki)

沼堕ち続出ドラマ“チェリまほ”の多様な世界はどうやって作られたのか【脚本家・吉田 恵里香さん】2020.12.22  横川 良明

for @howdydowdy because we were talking about what a fantastic character Fujisaki is and the notion of consent when it comes to reading someone’s mind

Currently, societal values continue to change rapidly. On one hand the movement of respecting each other’s diverse individualities and making it easier for each and every one to live in society has become more active, one the other hand it is not a rare occasion to be lost for words when suddenly unconscious discriminatory biases – derived from not being able to cut loose old values that are rooted deep in oneself – raise their heads.

How should we exist within this period of polarization? This series is to create the opportunity to think about this topic by having discussions with the toprunners in the entertainment world. The person I am introducing for the first edition is screenwriter Yoshida Erika.

She is behind the script of “Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!”, the tv series that has grabbed the first spot on the oricon satisfaction ranking for 4 weeks in a row, and has gained fast popularity despite its late-night spot. The enthusiasm for the show can be attributed to the soft view Ms. Yoshida has on the world.

Yokogawa Yoshiaki (YY): I am happily watching the series. I really liked the original work, however the way it was adapted to a television format has been brilliant. One big thing is the making of the character of Kurosawa played by Machida Keita. By Adachi’s magic (played by Akasouji Eiji), the voice of Kurosawa’s heart spills out, and while the original text had him be quite blatant in his expressions overall, the drama carefully examines them.

Yoshida Erika (YE): That is definitely where there is a difference in depth. The original has the premise of a work in the BL genre, readers are expecting a BL-like development, so they can take such things in stride, but the viewership of the tv series is more varied. Under them there might be people who do not like BL. That is why I was conscious about how different people from different backgrounds might watch this show.

It is not okay to assault someone just because you were invited to their house, kissing or touching without consent is not okay and being of the same or different sex makes no difference in this. Treating such things as okay because it is BL would be rude to the parties concerned. Because we are using the BL genre, we want to specifically protect the “firsts” of the parties concerned. That is something the producer Ms. Honma Kanami and the director agreed about and I therefore paid extra attention to.

YY: Adachi himself, as he is about to step into Kurosawa’s house thinks “Not that I might possibly get assaulted?!”, and is very vigilant, but with some soul-searching realizes that that is rude towards Kurosawa. To say it briefly, you can feel the probity of the creators.

YE: I thought that a main character that thinks that he will get assaulted when he steps into the house of someone will not be loveable. No matter how well received the person is who acts it out, if we cannot love them on a human level, this drama will not work. Adachi’s power to read people’s hearts is also the action of seeing people’s darker sides on his own volition. That’s why a character we cannot love as a person will receive push-back by the viewers.

YY: Just like you said, the act of reading peoples’ hearts includes great violence. That is why I think that when he realizes that Kurosawa has fond feelings for him, unlike the original where he reads Kurosawa’s heart on purpose, the drama treats it as an accidental force. Over the whole series, it is of focal importance that Adachi doesn’t overuse his magic.

YE: That is where we were extremely careful. In the manga easy comprehensiveness is important and that type of suspense is interesting - and we don’t intend to deny that - but if you do it as a drama, I didn’t want to make him into a young man using his powers at ease. That is why, especially in the first half, he decides and tries very hard not to use his powers when possible. The scene where he reads the CEO’s heart appears in the first issue of the original, but in the drama we pushed it back to the 5th episode. We made it a point to illustrate how Adachi is filled with the emotion to help Kurosawa and that is why he uses his powers.

                                                       -

That what I don’t want others to do unto me, I do not want to inflict on characters.

                                                       -

YY: His colleague Fujisaki (Satou Ryo) is a Fujoshi in the original and that premise was cut from the series. If you decided to have a Fujoshi character on a prime time show, did you think that misunderstandings might arise easily?

YE: That was definitely a thought. In BL as a genre it is not an issue that a character exists that takes the same viewpoint as the reader, and I love Fujisaki in the original, but the people who are acting it out in reality are real people. At that point, loudly fawning about someone else’s’ love life is not perceived as good conduct. At the least, I thought that I wouldn’t want to be treated like that.

YY: It is fine to envision fictional characters as romantic partners, but it is different when you make a real acquaintance the target of that.

YE:

A thought we had was that if Adachi and Kurosawa were to really date it would be one thing, but grinning at someone - who might even be heterosexual – because you inflate your own BL adjacent delusion isn’t much different from a man grinning at a woman with big breasts and calling her sexy. I wouldn’t want to get treated that way, so I didn’t want to inflict that on the characters in the story as well.

When it comes to Fujisaki it isn’t like she isn’t a Fujoshi. We do not clearly state it, but I thought there was no reason to show it in the drama. 

YY: You are saying, that it is fine that people might interpret Fujisaki as a Fujoshi when she is smiling at Adachi and Kurosawa.

YE: Yes. That is where you are free to imagine (laughs).

YY: What I thought was very fresh is that instead of proclaiming her to be a Fujoshi, Fujisaki is turned into someone who “is happily living her daily life even without romantic love”. We don’t often get characters like that in Japanese tv series.

Personally, I also like romantic tv series, but while feeling venerated when the main characters have realized their love in the final episode, when trying to build a romantic connection to someone else in real life it might not go well and beyond that, it is not that it never happens that I, who also holds interests in other things than romance, end up feeling empty because of the lonely feeling of having been left behind (when watching a romance on tv unfold).

But with having Fujisaki appear, it felt like I got rescued.

YE: Until now, for several projects I made the suggestion of a character that is not interested in romance, but I wasn’t understood. “Is it necessary to do that?” “Aren’t you overthinking it?” were things I got told often.

But with this production, when I said that I wanted Fujisaki to be asexual or aromantic, no one denied me. From that stage on I thought that this place was a good one, and thanks to the original writer giving her agreement it got turned into reality.

YY: Since this kind of character hasn’t really appeared in a tv series, it felt like people like Fujisaki were assigned to be non-existent in this world. But thanks to you envisioning her like this, seen from a person that like Fujisaki might say “I got used to acting “normal”” and feel a notion of despair when confronted with people not understanding them, it felt like it got emphasized that people like her also exist in our society. Picking such little voices feels like it is one of the purposes of entertainment.

YE: If that could become the case I would be glad about it. 10 to 20 years prior, a “fairytale gay” (describing the flamboyant gay friend, that mentally supports the heroine by giving some harsh but accurate advice) often appeared in tv series from abroad, but this portrayal slowly changed, finally it has reached the point where the view point that being gay isn’t something special has penetrated the public.

So this time, I believe that one of my duties was to tell the story of people that are not interested in romance or people who do not only love one person, not from a standpoint that is convenient for consumption, but to have properly realized characters up to their individual backgrounds.

                                                     -

I hope the time comes where it isn’t necessary to especially say “This is a BL series”

                                                      -

YY: Please let me speak on something that has confused me this far. Prior, when you explained Fujisaki in context of the script, it felt like it wasn’t okay to call her asexual or aromantic because she herself doesn’t use any of those labels. I was somewhat afraid that an outsider would just selfishly declare that “you are asexual, aren’t you!?” in regards to someone who hasn’t professed anything.

YE: There is the point of both of the terms asexual and aromantic not being widely known in Japan as much as compared to overseas and I also think there are people who just wouldn’t use these words. Even when you think you are not interested in romance at the moment, it could also be that you just haven’t found the person that makes you feel that way. That’s why I can understand how labelling someone has a violent notion.

YY: My next question is also relating to that: This applies to Cherry Maho, but generally when I write about over works that feature a lovestory between men I try not to use the word BL.

This is my own opinion but to me it feels like the term BL has too much of a sexual image.

In private I casually use the word BL. However, for the content of an article that is read by an unspecified number of people, I remember stumbling over labelling something as BL. Using BL as an easy genre specifier has the effect that there will be a layer that won’t get looked at. I simply want to have more people enjoy a piece of work. I don’t object to the editor using BL in the title but in the content I write, I try not to use the term BL story but simply “love story between two men” and keep it close to how you’d address it in reality.

YE: I understand that. Obviously, I don’t intend to shame the taste of people that like BL. However, I understand that there are people that feel a sense of resistance towards BL as a genre. That is why I also don’t use the word BL when I promote on twitter. I do think that it would be great to have a new word.

Just like women have things they don’t want to be subjected to, men also have things they don’t want to be subjected to. This kind of awareness has become more broadly spread bit by bit. However, in order to have it really penetrate society it needs for the voices of the affected people to be heard. But it is also the reality of today’s society that violence is directed at people that raise their voice. That is why I feel like it is the job of the people that create tv shows to speak up instead.

At the least, that is how I want to straightforwardly create the world, so that in 10 years without directly stating “this is a BL series” we have a society that takes it in as a “new cool romantic drama beginning” with “the leads being actor x and actor z” and as nothing unusual.  Now we really have such a transitional period, and as a writer I want to build the steps towards it.  

                                                          -

original article: https://mi-mollet.com/articles/-/27045?page=3&per_page=1

[angeldcgs]

what she was doing couldn't be considered cheating, just like what todd was doing couldn't, either. it's not like she was anyone's girlfriend— anymore, at least. they'd both decided that it would be best to cool it down and keep things casual once they signed to their label and their careers began to pick up, agreeing that the band should be their main focus, and not each other. envy was allowed to be a little selfish now and again, so long as it didn't impact the band's ability to function. she was merely embodying the rockstar lifestyle, embracing hedonism and indulging in her own pleasure rather than spending the night feeling sorry for herself. it might've been better to choose a fan who was entirely unknown to her so there'd be absolutely no strings attached, but there was no one in that crowd she'd have rather spent the night with than cooper. no one else deserved it but him, as he'd already proven himself to be a true fan, and one worthy of the ultimate perk. her soft spot for him had only continued to grow with every brief encounter, stringing him along with free tickets and not much else acknowledgment just to test how dedicated he really was, and finally his patience was being rewarded. "not many people can," she smirked at just how meek he'd become, absolutely no balls to back up his subtle attempt at negging. "live performance is a lost art." their recorded music and visuals were more than enough to catch the general public's attention, but it was their live shows that had truly solidified them as a rock band to watch out for, singling out envy specifically as the standout star of the group, much to her bandmates' chagrin. they were all talented, but she had an undeniably captivating quality about her, the sort of stage presence that commanded the attention of everyone in the room and wouldn't let up until she'd taken her final bow and stomped off stage. part of it was her look, for sure; her platform heels and teeny tiny hemlines emphasizing the elongated silhouette of her legs as she strutted around purring into the mic, leather and latex and shiny metal hardware giving off a seductively intimidating aura, but to chalk her popularity up to her appearance alone would be an affront to her many years of hard work perfecting her vocal technique. she didn't doubt cooper understood that— hell, he'd been a fan ever since they were a dinky garage band and envy was a mousy brunette who stood frozen in one spot for their whole set. her gaze bore straight into his once he finally looked up for an extended period of time, the tension between them thickening the air and warming her even more than the few cocktails she'd consumed before they came back to the hotel. she watched him closely with the faintest ghost of a smile on her face, brushing his hair back from his forehead to properly admire his features. despite the amount of times their paths had crossed, envy realized she'd never truly studied him. they'd never been close enough, their encounters only lasting a few minutes at most, but now she had all night to familiarize herself. "you better not," she warned him softly. "whatever would i do without my good luck charm there cheering me on every night?" while envy might not have gone on stage intending to impress him, his presence at their shows did have some sort of impact on her. whether she could see him during the show or not, the thought of him waiting around at the stage door just to catch a glimpse of her after the show helped fuel her performance, knowing that there was at least one person in the crowd who understood what she was trying to do as an artist. "can i ask you a question, cooper?" abandoning his curls, envy instead grasped one of his hands and began toying with his fingers absentmindedly while she fluttered her lashes at him. "you're not still a virgin, are you?"

cooper knew about envy's relationship with the bassist, or at least he thought he did. for someone who claimed to respect the band and their music, it should've been expected that he wouldn't try to get in the middle of them, especially when it could, in theory, come to affect the whole infrastructure of the band. at the end of the day though, he had his favourites and if he were to believe the gossip, envy deserved a lot better than someone who was filling his bed with whichever fan captured his interest that night. it was different with them, he was a fan of hers but he also felt like he knew her better than any of the other groupies could ever dream of. she wasn't known to bring people back with her and that meant he was special, he couldn't fuck it up with his inability to express himself properly. "you're right. i- i wouldn't be able to do it." half the time he could barely walk in a straight line, always tripping over himself or fumbling into the wrong situation, he wasn't anything like envy and it only furthered his infatuation with her. no one could be that disciplined, the care she put into her craft was obvious to anyone who wanted to pay attention and not disregard her as doing nothing but pumping out popular music for the masses but cooper knew better. envy was going down in history as one of the greats, an honest to god marvel and a true performer. when he considered it for more than a second, drunk on his own excitement, cooper realised how pathetic he'd sounded trying to insinuate that anything that envy had achieved over the run of the tour had been because of him. who was he? a face in a crowd of thousands. he still believed that he was special to her in some way, otherwise he wouldn't have been invited back to her room but her burst of giggles knocked him back down where he belonged, beneath her. he squirmed uncomfortably on the bed as she drew closer and kept his eyes down at the sheets, occasionally flickering them up so she'd know he was still paying attention before the reality of having her so close knocked him breathless and forced him to look away again. once her hand returned to his hair, cooper bit his tongue to squash the little whimper that threatened to escape the back of his throat. had he not had his confidence diminished, he would've been less stressed about keeping his excitement to himself, she would've gotten to hear his little sigh of satisfaction and see his eyes roll back at the feeling of her sharp nails scratching at his scalp. "yeah." his head lulled in her direction, heavy like he'd gotten drunk on one glass and he finally managed to maintain eye contact with her. she already knew how amazing he thought she was but she still deserved to hear it. over and over again, he'd repeat it till the day he died, like she was his god and his compliments were his prayers. "you always do. you're... you're incredible. i'll never get tired of watching you perform."

[erromes]

ST. NAHIA OF GETARIA - ART HISTORY (PART 2/2)

part 1 can be found here! a continuation of some facts your muse might know about nahia depending on their background!

- visigothic iberia, where getaria would’ve been located, was only just beginning to get christianized, and the community that was growing there was less focused on mary herself, but more on martyrs, in a very localized setting. as a result, the small town of getaria would’ve been central for the feast day of saint nahia, and towns throughout vasconia would’ve been absolutely enthralled with their own heroine in christian martyrdom.

- but since nahia’s narrative so centrally surrounds the virgin mary, her sainthood brought more of an awareness and love for mary as centuries went on in vasconia, and later spain.

- a lot of depictions of mary involve her being surrounded by virginal martyrs, so guess who qualifies to be included in such depictions – you guessed it. but saints in general are often depicted with scenes of mary, especially in her assumption.

- so as background, there were lots of debates at the time that involved how to portray mary, what to call her, what details were “right” about her life and so on – such debates were getting to be quite heated around the time nahia was alive, and continued to be heated long after she died. naturally, as a saint associated intimately with the virgin mary during a time when martyrs were hugely popular, debates over how nahia herself was portrayed began.

- these debates were mainly of your run of the mill misogynist type, similar to doubts cast across mary herself, except where the question for mary was “how could a human woman bear the son of god?”, the question for nahia was “how could a human woman bear witness to the queen of heaven and do battle?”

- such debates led to more or less three kinds of portrayals of nahia, often overlapping each other depending on the region, class, and purpose for the painting/engraving/etc/ – nahia the protector, nahia the handmaiden, and nahia the nursemaid.

- those who were skeptical and uncomfortable with the idea of military power being put into the hands of a young, impressionable virgin (as men are wont to do) began a tradition of portraying nahia with a more handmaidenly focus, dressed in servant’s clothing and bending at mary’s feet, as she sits with the child jesus. such a portrayal would’ve been used alongside a portrayal of mary that was meant to emphasize the domesticity of mary as the mother of god, with such domesticity extending to nahia as well.

- such a portrayal would’ve probably resided in people’s homes as icons of personal devotion, and evolving in style as the tradition of personal devotional icons evolved.

- a slight deviation from this portrayal depicts nahia as a lady in waiting to mary, queen of heaven, a portrayal that was used to promote a more regal and commanding vision of mary. put bluntly, an imperial empire needed an imperial mary. such a depiction has the same tropes of domesticity and placed in the same kind of personal devotion, but this was explicitly for aristocratic families, mostly aristocratic women. mary would have been dressed in royal robes of the period, while nahia, as a lady in waiting and not a servant, would’ve been dressed in the same kind of sumptuous, luxurious dress as an aristocratic woman, despite both of their origins in poverty.

- nahia the protector is what i kind of touched on in the part 1 post, but this is essentially a portrayal of nahia in full armor, often gilded in gold, and it pushes the motif of a knight kneeling at the authority of their vassal. nahia being the knight, and mary, in this case, being the queen. this would’ve also been valued by a society that championed an imperial mary, and specifically would’ve been important in those that were of great military importance, since mary of the home had no place in the trenches of the battlefield, and therefore by extension, neither did nahia.

- finally, the portrayal of nahia that is the most “cultish” in nature, that is, the portrayal that shows up in small, often isolated pockets within iberia and elsewhere, depicts nahia as acting as mary’s nursemaiden. the way nahia is dressed is more or less the same as nahia the handmaiden, but she is explicitly placed at mary’s side with arms open towards the christ child. this portrayal would’ve also been useful in an imperial society, as it would’ve emphasized strict roles for noblewomen and the handling of their children, seeing as mary would’ve been portrayed as queen and sovereign, and nahia the virginal martyr as a lowly servant.

- such a portrayal often was brushed aside as just another portrayal of a virginal martyr adoring the heavenly mother and child, but those communities of martyr-focused christianity knew exactly what they were doing putting nahia in that position. there are very, very few of these depictions left, as they were often destroyed for being blasphemy in later periods, but they are useful examples of how much martyrs really were beloved by their respective communities, and can provide tools for tracing where such cults had grown.

[thechangeling]

Enough.

So a while ago I made a headcannon post about Ty's sexuality and the autistic exploration of sex and sexual desire. I have now written a fic about it. This ones for Alex @bedspells my very own Alyssa. Also side note I want to make it clear that yes, I still ship kitty 100%. But I've seen plenty of people write fics and headcannons about Kit exploring things with other people. There's no reason why Ty can't do the same.

Edit: Ok a long time ago this fic actually got a hate comment on Ao3 saying that I was erasing Ty's sexuality by having him hook up with a girl because he was cannonly gay due to a tweet CC made in 2013. Now I don't even have twitter and I wasn't a part of the fandom back then. Despite all of that I actually don't really consider that to be the basis of canon? And in the books he doesn't really express interest in anyone except for Kit. So as far as I'm concerned this was fair game. Not to mention gay people sometimes experiment before they realize they're gay. Especially autistic people!! And that was actually kind of the point of this fic. So maybe just keep that in mind going forward. Thanks!

Tw for mentions and discussions of sex.

Ty could count the instances he hadn't been bothered by another person's touch on one hand. This was certainly one of them. It was so late into the night it could certainly be considered the next morning. Anush, Ty and Alyssa had been doing research on Livvy and the effect she seemed to be having on a serge of demonic activity in the area.

Ty was fairly stressed about the possibility to say the least. It felt like everything was spilling away from him. Livvy, his family, his career.

Kit.

He really didn't want to think about Kit but it was difficult. It was like trying to ignore a bleeding wound that everyone kept referring to as a paper cut.

The shining lights in all of this were Anush and Alyssa. Befriending both of them had been the best part of coming to the scholomance.

Especially Alyssa.

Meeting someone who shared some of his thoughts, feelings and experiences was more then refreshing. It was liberating. Talking, laughing and crying with Alyssa about the things that no one else would understand was like a balm for Ty's soul.

At a certain point Anush had announced that he was retiring to bed and they should both probably do the same. Livvy was still floating around the room observing their work. But as time went on Ty had stopped paying as much attention to her. Now he was resting against Alyssa with his head in her lap. She was sitting on the couch in the library, carefully running her fingers through his hair and rambling on about something, Ty wasn't exactly sure what.

Ty reached up to wrap a lock of her long dark hair around his finger, then watched it spring back into place again. Alyssa's hair was wavy but not curly like- like some peoples. So it didn't spring and bounce very well. That was the interesting thing about Ali in general. So many parts of her dress and appearance were so neat and polished and well put together that Ty almost wondered what it would be like to see her more disheveled. What would it be like to grab and twist and pull until she was left with something that wasn't glossy perfect waves.

Ty panicked a little at that thought. Where exactly had that come from? He was now more then ever painfully aware of the fact that he was lying in an attractive person's lap. And his sister was still in the same room.

Ty looked up to search for Livvy but realized that she was gone. Guiltily he realized she could have been gone for awhile now. But he hadn't noticed. Lately he had been feeling further and further away from his twin and he hated it.

"Do you think stars have feelings?" Alyssa asked wistfully. Ty laughed joyfully, feeling so light and and so far away from every bad thing that had happened three years ago.

"Because I was just thinking," she continued. "Like, what if they're lonley you know?" Ty had to smile at the Alyssa charm of it all. Also the autistic perspective might have had something to do with it.

"I don't know," Ty said, sitting up. "Maybe they're like us. Maybe they like being alone." Alyssa pondered this for awhile.

"Well no one can be alone forever," she pointed out, then laughed, rolling her eyes. "God how did we get here? Remember when we were supposed to be doing actual work Ty?"

"Well we were stupid to think that would last," Ty announced matter of factly. Alyssa shrugged and leaned back against the sofa.

"Probably. Once the neurotypical left it was all downhill from there."

"I disagree, Ty said softly, meeting her gaze. "I enjoy spending time with you." Alyssa instantly smiled, the kind of beautiful, honest, heartfelt smile that allistic people wrote poetry about.

Instantly Ty was reminded of someone else, another brilliant smile.

He shook it off.

"Me too," Alyssa finally answered. Then she shook her head. "Ugh feelings. Gross."

Ty rolled his eyes at her and laughed.

Then Alyssa sat up again as she seemed to remember something. "Oh yeah I meant to ask you about Anush. Do you like him?"

Ty shrugged. "Yeah he's really nice. He's become a good friend."

Alyssa shook her head. "No, no Ty, I mean-" She paused. "I mean do you like him like you wanna date him? Or do you have romantic feelings for him?" She asked.

Ty paused. He honestly wasn't sure. He had been trying to avoid thoughts of those types of feelings for a very specific reason. A Herondale reason. But the truth was he did like really like Anush. He enjoyed being around him. Ty just wasn't sure what that meant.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly. "Maybe." Alyssa fiddled with her hair, rubbing it between her fingers.

"Hmm. Well do you even like boys?" She asked. "I just realised I've known you for five months now and I dont really know what your deal is," she said contemplating. "Like sexual orientation wise. I mean not that it matters, it totally doesn't," she stammered.

Ty shrugged. "It was never really relevant before. But I'm not really sure. I guess I'm fine with whatever." Alyssa beamed.

"So I guess that means you're kinda like me huh? She said happily. "I'm pansexual. Women are so beautiful and angelic and soft and squishy and awesome, but men can be good too," she mused. "I mean men are......men, but some of them aren't so bad. I mean look at you!" Alyssa tossed her hair back over her shoulder.

"Thanks," Ty responded dryly.

"Anyways you know what I mean," Alyssa waved her hand. "So are you attracted to him at least?" Ty sighed.

"Yeah I am," he admitted. "But I don't- I don't want a relationship Ali. I just can't."

Alyssa studied him for a moment. "Does this have anything to do with the Herondale pendent you wear that you always tell me never to ask questions about?"

Ty scowled. "Yes, but I don't want to talk about it." Alyssa rolled her eyes and put her hands up in surrender.

"Fucking shit fuck! Fine!" She complained. "Anyways, my point is you dont need to date him neccesarily. Just have sex with him and see how you feel?"

Ty sat up and faced her. "What?"

Alyssa laughed. "You heard me. There's nothing wrong with causal sex between consenting adults. I mean, if you want to."

Ty felt the urge to stand up to try and aliviate some of the anxiety he was feeling, but he stayed sitting.

"I've never done it before," he admitted. Ty was 19, he knew most of the people his age had already had some sort of sexual experience. But he had always been too afraid. Too afraid of people touching him and demanding things from him with harsh vague bullshit. In Ty's mind it was just another social interaction that he could screw up and then pay the price for it.

Alyssa shrugged. "It's no big deal. Virginity is just a social construct anyways." Alyssa was playing with her hair casually and biting her lip slightly, to indicate that she was mulling something over.

Ty shook his head trying to explain it. "No, it's- I mean see, you say that, but, one of the things I've learned about this world is that social constructs kind of matter to a lot of people." Ty was taping his fingers against his leg and trying to stop himself from shaking. Alyssa noticed this.

"Because people tell you that's it's no big deal and not to worry, and then other people make it into a big deal like it means something, and then everyone's telling you to do something different," Ty explained with a panicked, rushed voice. "I don't know who you listen to, or what to do!" He was moving his hands frantically while he spoke to emphasize his points.

"Hey it's ok," she cooed, inching towards him. "Trust yourself. Or if you feel like you can't, then trust me." Ty felt a pang in his chest. A cacophony of conflicting emotions erupted within him. But mostly he found that despite his better judgement he actually believed her.

They had created something different between the two of them. Something that almost transcended labels or rules or traditional allistic boundaries. Alyssa was like the armor he put on every morning, with the strength and confidence that he wasn't alone in this world. In the midst of all of their jokes and late night heartbreaking conversations. In the midst of this fragile peace they had created, there was something there. Something indescribable.

Something like the sound of the page being turned in one of his Sherlock novels, or the sound of their favourite songs. A connection. A lifeline.

Ty looked over at Alyssa's concerned face and smiled softly. "I trust you," he promised. "I don't really trust many people, but I've always trusted you," he admitted. Alyssa inhaled sharply. She made an interesting facial expression that might have been a facial stim and then gaped for awhile before finally closing her mouth and avoiding Ty's gaze.

"Yeah that's cool. I trust you too," she said casually. She had gone back to pulling at her poor hair which was shedding everywhere. Anush always joked that he could always tell where Alyssa was by following the trail of hair.

"So, about the whole sex thing," she continued rather unceremoniously. Ty had to laugh a little. "Do you think it's something you're actually interested in? Or do you just feel like you have to?" She asked.

Ty pondered this for a moment. "I think I might want to. I just want to be with someone that I trust. Someone who will be considerate of my boundries, you know?" Ty did a quick glance around the room to make sure Livvy was still gone.

"Wait she's not here right?" Alyssa asked anxiously, catching on. Ty shook his head.

Alyssa paused for a moment, looking lost in thought. She was flicking her fingernails against each other and continuing to murder her bottom lip by chewing on it. Finally she looked up at him, looking rather amused.

"Ok. This might just be the exhaustion talking, or the autism, or a combination of both. So if you feel uncomfortable with what I'm about to say, then afterwards we can just forget it ok?" Alyssa sounded serious. Ty just nodded, trying not to be concerned.

Alyssa gave him an interesting look, one that he was pretty sure he had never recieved before. Her eyes scanned him up and down, then she smirked.

"I could potentially offer my services," she said innocently. Ty blinked a few times, then continued to stare at her. She stared back unflinching.

Wait. What?

Ty shook his head in confusion. "Hold on. Wait. You mean-?" He cut himself off. Alyssa nodded with that same smirk. "Yeah I mean why not right?" She shrugged, relaxing back against the sofa. "But if you dont want to then that's totally fine."

"Wait." Ty attempted to clear his head and stay focused. He stayed frozen for awhile, thinking. Then he folded his arms around himself, applying pressure. "Why exactly?"

Alyssa shrugged again. "Well why not? You're hot. I'm hot, and besides you know me," she pointed out. She paused, and then giggled.

"Four hours into investigating the paranormal phenomenon of his dead twin sister and chill, then she offers to take his virginity," she cackled. "I so enjoy our quality time together."

"The way your mind works really concerns me sometimes, you know that?" He asked playfully. Alyssa rolled her eyes at him and shoved him gently.

"Hey you don't have to, it was just an idea," she said, raising her hands in defense. Ty was silent. He was still thinking about it.

"Most people don't really do stuff like this right?" He asked warily. "Like most friends don't just randomly hook up and then laugh it off later."

Alyssa shook her head slowly. "Honey do you see me laughing?"

Ty was conflicted. There was something in him, a new, complicated feeling. A burning desire that nagged at the back of his mind everytime Alyssa bit her lip or pouted.

If he was really honest with himself. Ty could remember another time when he felt this way. But that was different, that was-.

He shook his head. No. Ty wasn't thinking about that anymore. He needed a distraction.

"God I can practically hear you thinking over here Ty," Alyssa teased. "Listen. If it freaks you out to much then we can forget about it. But-." She paused and reached towards him. Their fingertips met and she slowly dragged her fingertips down the top of Ty's hand.

"I want to do this for you because I care about you," she said solemnly. "I want make you feel good. Because you're special, and I dont mean that in the bullshit ableist way. I mean I think that you're special because you have such a big heart and you care so much," she said with a laugh.

Ty felt like he was about to cry. He was taking in long deep breaths trying not to get overwhelmed. He didnt know how to respond to this, this kind of attention and praise. His heart felt warm and tight absorbed in so much fondness and melancholy and regret all at once.

He knew this wasn't anything like what had happened that day on the beach. This wasn't that kind of love that he was feeling for Alyssa and that was a good thing. Romantic love, he decided, was too complicated.

"You deserve good things and good experiences. You deserve to have your first time be somewhere familiar. Somewhere you feel safe, and with someone who loves you." Alyssa wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.

"God sorry for getting all emotional like that," she joked.

Ty couldn't speak, so he just squeezed her hand. He hoped she would understand.

I love you too.

Ty took a breath, then nodded. "Yeah," he admitted. "Yeah I want that. I want you."

Alyssa exhaled, then grinned. "Ok then. Great. I'll see if I can pencil you in sometime this week," she joked. Ty cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"Oh," he murmered, suprised with how disappointed he felt. "You mean later?" Alyssa laughed.

"Well yeah, I mean aren't you tired?"

"Are you?" Ty countered.

Alyssa shrugged. "Hey you know how it is, autistic sleep cycle. I'm gonna be up for awhile. I just figured you might want some time to think."

Ty shook his head. "No I don't want to think anymore. I'm tired of thinking Ali. I'm tired of worrying and overanalyzing everything." His eyes met hers, she seemed a little worried.

She moved closer to him so that she was practically in his lap. "You need a distraction," she said matter of factly. "It's ok." She moved her hands from his arms to grasp his waist.

"Is this good?"

Ty flinched. "More pressure," he replied in a tone that was hopefully not too demanding. Alyssa pressed her fingertips down harder into his skin. A soothing feeling washed over him.

"Good?" She asked, scratching his skin with her fingernails. Ty just nodded, feeling slightly dazed.

Alyssa smiled, lowering herself gracefully into his lap. Everything she did was with precision and grace. Alyssa was a dancer. It was one of her special interests. She had stopped taking lessons a long time ago though because she found it challenging to dance in a group.

She could never copy what everyone else was doing exactly on count when she was supposed to. She was always going off and improvising on her own. There was probably a metaphor in there somewhere.

Alyssa's weight against him was comforting. She was moving her hands up and down his back underneath his shirt while still applying pressure. Ty felt heat beginning to pool in the base of his stomach. He stared at her curiously, taking in her soft curves and her smooth golden skin.

"Can I touch you?" Ty asked, feeling his fingers twitch.

Alyssa moved her hands to his chest. "Sure." She said softly. "Just be careful. Remember pressure and all of that, and try to avoid my stomach area. For some reason it's really sensitive." Ty nodded, instantly reaching for her long wavy dark hair and twisting his fingers around it, pulling slightly. She laughed.

This drew Ty's attention to her mouth. Her lips were cracked and rough looking from Alyssa constantly biting them, but Ty still wanted to kiss her. He had never kissed anyone before. He needed to know what it felt like.

He moved his hands to her shoulders and then to her sides, pulling Alyssa even closer. "Can you teach me how to kiss?" He asked looking her in the eye briefly. She snorted.

"I don't think you'll like it very much," she murmered. "It's not really a good sensory experience. At least not for me. Allistic people seem to like it though."

Ty nodded. "Exactly that's my point," he said, using one hand to cradle the side of her neck. "I need to learn for other people later on." He absentmindedly pressed his thumb into one of the divots in her neck, just to fill the space. Alyssa sighed and dug her fingernails into his chest.

"Ok fine but you're gonna hate the tounge thing," she breathed. She leaned down very slowly and then carefully pressed her lips to Ty's, kissing him softly.

It was a weird sensation but not entirely unpleasant. Ty happily slid his hands back into her hair and began to fiddle with a few thick pieces. Alyssa moved her own hands up his chest to cradle her face, applying pressure with thumbs against his cheekbones.

Alyssa deepened the kiss and slid her tounge into his mouth. Instantly Ty winced and felt every cell in his body seize up. But he didn't stop. He was determined to figure this out. If he wanted to kiss someone who wasn't autistic in the future then he would need to. Ty relaxed his body and kissed her back forcefully, making out with Alyssa until the uncomfortable noise in his head was too much and he broke the kiss.

Ty shook his head and Ali laughed, stroking his hair. "I fucking told you so," she exclaimed. Ty shut his eyes and allowed his breathing to return to normal.

"Ok so that's something we can forget about for now, thank god. The beauty of this whole situation is that we dont have to follow any allistic script for this sort of thing." Ty opened his eyes. Alyssa was watching him carefully, still only centimeters away from his face.

"So is there anything you want to do?" She asked him. "Just tell me and I'll see if we can make it happen."

Ty saw no need to maintain any sort of filter. "Well there are a lot of things actually, but for some reason I really want to bite you," he said pointedly, glancing down at her neck. Alyssa burst out laughing, nearly falling over.

Ty glared at her. "I'm sorry," she gasped breathlessly. "I'm sorry it's just,-," she regained her composure, shaking her head. "I just love how we all used to be the weird kids who growled and hissed at people on the playground if they bothered us and now as adults we're just super kinky. Like it's kind of poetic in a way," she laughed.

Ty rolled his eyes. There was no need to ask what she meant by we. When Alyssa said we, it only referred to one thing.

"I'm sure it's not absolutely every autistic person," he protested. "Also we should move, on account of the fact that this is still a public setting." Alysza's eyes widened as if she had just remembered that.

"Oh right. Shit, as if these people needed any more reasons to hate me. Let's go!" She rolled off of Ty and stood in front if him, holding out her hand. "We can use my room." Ty stayed sitting, taking a moment to fully absorb it all.

He couldn't help but feel the weight of the Herondale pendent against his chest as a heavy reminder. He willed himself not to get distracted. Alyssa smiled at him slightly, almost as if she knew.

"Enough," she said softly.

Ty didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't even sure if their was anything he wanted say. Then finally he understood.

"Enough," he echoed back.

He took her outstretched hand and let her take him away.

@ti-bae-rius @eutony-in-whisper @dianasarrow @dianasarrow @stxr-thxif @talia-lightwood @doitforthecarstairs @thelandunderthehilll @zfoxdraws @waterlillies

[little-chattes]

Ok so I’ve done a complete re-read through and one thing that kept nagging at me was how little Gideon and Harrow’s relationship makes sense given its quite frankly abusive origins. Harrow spends her whole life making Gideon’s a living hell and Gideon just… forgives her. Total and complete forgiveness for an irredeemable girl.

At first I took the sudden shift in their relationship as lazy writing to rush along the end of the story, but that didn't make any sense either. Muir strikes me as an intensely purposeful writer. Then I remembered that Muir is also an intensely Catholic writer and it hit me. Muir isn’t writing a story about a healthy human relationship, oh no, she’s writing a story about Christ’s relationship with The Church… if Christ was a sword toting butch lesbian and The Church was a sardonic bone witch. Call it tender blasphemy. 

Now Gideon’s role as a Christ figure is fairly easy to parse out given that her dad is… God. But for the sake of self indulgence (I have to put my 15 year long flirtation with Christianity to use somehow) I’m going to go through all the parallels anyway. There are a LOT of them.

Let’s start at the very beginning (a very good place to start).

Miraculous Conception

Luke 1:34-38

34 But Mary said to the angel, “How will this be, since I [e]am a virgin?” 35 The angel answered and said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; for that reason also the [f]holy Child will be called the Son of God. 

Gideon is conceived by artificial means when one of God’s own servants (Mercy) delivers a sample of John’s genetic material to Wake, a ‘normal’ human woman who chooses to carry Gideon in her womb. Notably, the sample lives far beyond its point of expected viability, thus making the conception somewhat miraculous (“Only the sample was still active, no idea how considering it was twelve weeks after the fact” HTN 441). 

The Cuckold

Matthew 1:18-25

18 Now the birth of Jesus the [a]Messiah was as follows: when His mother Mary had been [b]betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be pregnant by the Holy Spirit. 19 And her husband Joseph, since he was a righteous man and did not want to disgrace her, planned to [c]send her away secretly. 

Gideon the First decides not to kill his lover, Wake, and releases her out the airlock (AND HE TOOK PITY ON ME! HE TOOK PITY ON ME! HE SAW ME AND HE TOOK PITY ON ME” from Harrow’s vision of Wake’s note, HTN 124) just as Joseph took pity on Mary, his betrothed, by deciding to divorce her quietly instead of making her infidelity public which would condemn her to death by public stoning (Deuteronomy 22:21). Gideon the First knew that Wake was pregnant and didn’t tell John because he thought the baby was his. Similarly, Joseph goes on to raise Jesus as his own son.

The Birth

Luke 2:7

And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a [f]manger, because there was no [g]room for them in the inn.

 Neither baby Jesus nor baby Gideon were given a proper cradle, one being laid to rest in a manger where the animals ate and the other stuffed in a transplant bio-container (GTN 23). 

The Dead Children

16 When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi.

King Herod intends to kill the prophesied King of the Jews and instead of finding the specific baby, he just has a bunch of them slaughtered. However, Jesus escapes the slaughter of the innocents by Herod when his parents secret him away to Egypt.

 When the great aunts gas the nursery and kill the 200, Gideon is meant to die along with them but escapes her fate.

Now this event has a completely different biblical connotation for Harrow. 

Firstly, the murder of the 200 children represents Original Sin. In the bible, Adam and Eve disobeyed God in the Garden of Eden, and as their descendants, all of humankind is doomed to also bear the weight of that sin from the moment we are born until the day we die. This is a fact that is drilled into Christians as soon as we’re able to understand it, we are born wretched and unworthy sinners, and there’s nothing we can do ourselves to fix that. 

“I have tried to dismantle you, Gideon Nav! The Ninth House poisoned you, we trod you underfoot—I took you to this killing field as my slave—you refuse to die, and you pity me! Strike me down. You’ve won. I’ve lived my whole wretched life at your mercy, yours alone, and God knows I deserve to die at your hand. You are my only friend. I am undone without you.”

Harrow is a multitude, she is 200 children, the entire future of her house. Shes not just one human being,, she’s the whole damn church.

Naz/Nav

he went and lived in a town called Nazareth. So was fulfilled what was said through the prophets, that he would be called a Nazarene.

Although Gideon is not from the Ninth, she is given the Ninth name Nav when she arrives as a baby. Similarly, Jesus is known as Jesus of Nazareth, though that is not where he was born.

The Poor Bondservant

Jesus' role as a servant is emphasized many times in the bible. He was a carpenter's son born in a stable 

Philippians 2:5-8

Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross.

 Gideon is described as being made “a very small bondswoman” (GTN 24)

The Sword

Matthew 10:34

Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.

The Wretched Sinner

Harrow is wretched, self loathing, and cruel. 

She is in thrall of the enemy of god, a figure who was once gods most favoured warrior, cast into hell.

She is like the depiction of the sinner who loves the devil

It's important to note that Harrow isn’t a single person, she is a multitude, the entire future of her people condensed into one body. 

The Enemy of God

20 Then I saw an angel coming down from heaven, nholding in his hand the key to othe bottomless pit1 and a great chain. 2 And he seized pthe dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil and Satan, and qbound him for a thousand years, 3 and threw him into othe pit, and shut it and rsealed it over him, so that she might not deceive the nations any longer, until the thousand years were ended. After that he must be released for a little while.

Before the fall, Satan was described as a “guardian cherub” who resided in the garden with God (Ezekiel 28:14) 

(a funny aside, in the bible the devil is known as the great deceiver but in HTN Muir specifies that Alecto is incapable of lying)

A Life of Abuse 

Isaiah 53:3

"He was despised and rejected by mankind,

    a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.

Like one from whom people hide their faces

    he was despised, and we held him in low esteem”

They got up, drove him out of the town, and took him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him off the cliff" (Luke 4:28–29).

Gideon lives a life of mockery and is abused by Harrow.

An Unlikely Savior

Despite the fact that Gideon does not fit the expected image of a Cavalier, Harrow chooses Gideon to be her sword and protector.

Despite the many openings Gideon has to make Harrow pay for the pain she caused her, she remains loyal to her

Trust

Harrow realizes that she cannot face the lyctor trials without Gideon, and places her trust in her

Christians are told they must place their trust in jesus in order to reach salvation

Purifying Water

Acts 2:38

Peter replied, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Harrow confesses her sins to Gideon and puts herself at her mercy

Gideon forgives Harrow totally and completely, she baptises her

One Flesh

Mark 10:8

and the two shall become one flesh; so they are no longer two, but one flesh.

“The imagery and symbolism of marriage is applied to Christ and the body of believers known as the church. The church is comprised of those who have trusted in Jesus Christ as their personal Savior and have received eternal life. Christ, the Bridegroom, has sacrificially and lovingly chosen the church to be His bride” (x)

Ephesians 5:25-26

25 gHusbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and hgave himself up for her, 26 that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by ithe washing of water jwith the word,

They take the vow of necro and cav, one flesh one end

Gideon’s forgiveness of Harrow is reaffirmed

Harrow risks her life to stay and fight with Gideon, even if it means her death and thus the destruction of her death. Her love for Gideon is now greater than her love for the Body.

The Sacrifice

John 19:34

Instead, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus’ side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water.

They will look on the one they have pierced'" (John 19:36–37).

Gideon chooses to die for Harrow, death by piercing

and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

In order to complete the lyctor process, Harrow both physically and spiritually consumes Gideon

Because of Gideon’s sacrifice, Harrow attains eternal life at the right hand of god

The Tomb

The Resurrection

1On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women came to the tomb, bringing the spices they had prepared. 2 They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus

Harrow turns her body into a tomb for Gideon, a tomb fashioned after that on the Ninth

Resurrection on the Third Day

Thus it is written, and thus it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead the third day, and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in His name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. Luke 24:46-47 

“So many months had passed: and yet, at the same time, she had only lost Gideon Nav three days ago. It was the morning of the third day in a universe without her cavalier: it was the morning of the third day—and all the back of her brain could say, in exquisite agonies of amazement, was: She is dead. I will never see her again.” (HTN 374)

Just in case you missed this important piece of information, Muir repeats it three times.

Go, and tell them, then, that he that was dead is alive, and lives for evermore, and has the keys of death and the grave,"

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Check Ignition: Part II

The Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person asked for and I dove into headfirst.

Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV

Requests are open if you have any ideas of what I should write next!

Moyo thought the situation was hilarious. “Dude,” he said, between fits of uncontrollable laughter. “You’re never going to get any pussy ever again. Oh my gosh.” He doubled over in front of the fireplace, clutching his stomach as if it would burst. As a Gryffindor, he shouldn’t be in the Hufflepuff common room at all, and neither should Zoë (a Ravenclaw). Zoë got permission because her boyfriend, Senne, was Head Boy. Moyo slipped under the radar because he never wore his tie around campus.

Aaron too had his concerns for Robbe’s love life. “Does it count as cheating? Amber said that Noor—”

“He just kissed you?” Zoë sat forward on the couch. “Just like that? No asking, or—”

Moyo cut back in. “You will never feel the sweet, sweet touch of a woman. The virgin Robbe.”

“Boys, boys,” said Jens, ever the peacemaker, ever Robbe’s protector. “Uh, and girl. We are solving the crisis, not bringing up new ones.” He gestured to Robbe. “You have the floor, my friend. What do you need from us?”

“I, uh—” Robbe began.

It had been Jens’s idea to tell Moyo and Aaron in the morning. Zoë just happened to be waiting around for Senne to come out of the dormitories at the same time. The Hufflepuff common room featured two tables on either side of the fireplace, each surrounded by four straight-backed chairs. One couch faced the fireplace, and right now, Aaron, Jens, and Zoë had claimed it for themselves. With all the prime real estate taken, none of the other students stuck around.

Plus, it was early, before breakfast and morning classes.

“Go ahead,” said Jens.

Robbe didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what Sander expected to get from the arrangement, either. What he knew:

1. Sander kissed him to get Britt off his back.

2. Sander referred to him as a boyfriend rather than a hookup.

3. Sander knew he wanted to get Noor to leave him alone.

What he didn’t know:

1. Did Sander want them to fake date?

2. Was it just a one-time thing?

He wasn’t a big fan of not knowing all the specifics. It was hard enough to trample down the feeling blossoming in his chest when he thought of kissing Sander again.

“I—I need—” What did he need? He needed to talk to Sander. They didn’t share any classes, nor were there any Hogsmede visits coming up in the near future. Robbe sure as hell wasn’t going to patrol down near the dungeons, even if Jana came with him, because they smelled like mildew and he didn’t want to run into anyone besides Sander. He decided on a placeholder for now. “I need you to go along with it. If Noor asks.”

“Go along with it?” Moyo repeated.

“Yeah, go along with it. Corroborate the story.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Moyo crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not lying to a girl. Especially not a pretty one.”

Aaron nodded along. “That’s messed up.”

“You’re not going to earn any points by not,” said Jens. Thank goodness for Jens.

“It is a bit cruel, isn’t it?” said Zoë. “Tell her you’re not interested if you’re not interested. It’s an asshole move to drag someone else into it.”

They dissolved into cacophony, talking over one another without regard for volume. It reminded Robbe of last night’s music. He’d meant to ask the boys if anyone had heard anything from the astronomy tower last night (had Sander made a bubble at all?), but he hadn’t gotten the chance when Jens opened with “Sander told everyone he and Robbe are dating so Britt and Noor will leave them alone.”

“And she’s going to find out,” said Moyo. “Girls know everything. Imagine how that’ll feel—Robbe hates you so much he’d rather be gay than snog you. It’s not fair.”

Zoë pointed at Moyo to emphasize his point. “I’m surprised to hear such a rational take from you.”

“I don’t hate her!” Robbe felt the need to step in and defend his honor. “I already told her I’m not interested. She keeps circling back around, and I’m tired.” In truth, he hadn’t said anything explicit. She should understand his apathy by the way he never took her coat or offered to walk her back to her common room. Perhaps that made him a bad person. “Look, this won’t be forever. We’ll give it a week and we’ll break up and everything will go back to normal.”

Moyo laughed without humor. “Yeah, minus any chance of ever having sex with a girl ever again.”

“You had to ruin it,” said Zoë. “Bad take.”

“Okay, but after the whole thing last night, Noor’s gonna be depressed no matter what,” Jens said. “You tell her that last night was for Sander, and she’s going to be all over you again. You tell her it was so both of you could avoid both of them, and now she’s just as upset as she would be with the fake-dating. It makes more sense to go along, fake a breakup, and let the whole thing fizzle. No one gets hurt.”

The others considered this analysis. Robbe took to pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. He really didn’t want Noor to get hurt in all of this—did he?—but the allure of having her leave him alone was too great to pass up. And she’d be hurt if he told her flat-out, so wouldn’t this roundabout way be better? Yes, Jens was right. Aaron, Zoë, Moyo, and Jens gathered together in a makeshift huddle to deliberate the issue like committee.

Robbe pretended not to hear their animated whispers. He caught bits and pieces.

“Noor is kind of annoying—”

“What’s done is done, isn’t it?”

“—something an asshole would do. Remember when Jana—”

“I would never—”

The giant clock on the wall above the exit read seven. Breakfast would be ready in the Great Hall any minute now, and they’d need to hurry if they wanted to eat in time for History of Magic. Any later than seven-fifteen and Noor would be downstairs, too.

“It’s agreed, then,” announced Jens. He stood up and adjusted his tie. “We play along. Robbe and Sander five-ever. C’mon, boys, class.”

Moyo and Aaron grumbled to themselves, but they followed Jens to the portrait on the wall and slipped through with Robbe at their heels.

***

The walk to the Potions classroom felt longer than ever before. It was the first class of the day that Robbe didn’t share with one of his friends, because Moyo and Aaron were shit at following instructions and Jens had never created anything that worked. They barely mustered satisfactory grades last year. Robbe was a rule-follower. That’s why he was a prefect, and that’s why he could make a damn good Wolfsbane potion.

“Hello, darling!”

Someone slammed into him from the side, almost knocking his textbook from his hands. Robbe looked up and right at Sander’s perfect face. Sander’s eyes were alight, even in the dim aesthetic of the dungeon hallway. He held an embroidered canvas schoolbag over one shoulder and a wand in his left hand. It was all Robbe could do to not collapse when he slipped his right hand into Robbe’s and squeezed—until Robbe spotted Britt standing at the door to the potions classroom. Her eyes locked on them.

That answered some questions, anyway. Sander wanted whatever this was to continue.

“Where are you headed?” Sander asked. “I’ve got Transfiguration in a half hour, so I’m free to take you wherever. He said the words a lot louder than he needed to.

Robbe shared Potions with Britt. He’d totally forgotten. And he couldn’t possibly go see her, could he? So really, there was only one thing he could say. “Free period. I’m wandering.”

“Lead the way, oh wanderer.”

They walked side-by-side down the corridor, passing in front of the haunted girls’ bathroom and a wall stained by something that looked an awful lot like blood. Sander’s long strides made it difficult for Robbe to keep up; it took two of his steps to match one of Sander’s. He noticed something he hadn’t before—he didn’t make a habit of watching Sander walk when they went out with Britt. Sander kept his chin angled toward the ceiling and seemed to base his gait on the people around him. Faster than everyone else. Even if it took more effort than casual.

“Is this a thing now?” Robbe whispered. He tried to hide the fact that he might be wheezing. “If it shows Noor I’m not changing my mind, I’m still all the way…”

“I’d assumed it would be. Are there going to be rules?”

“Rule number one: you sit detention for the music. I still reported you.”

Sander stopped abruptly; his eyes caught on something down the hallway. “Duck into this bathroom with me,” he said. “Lingering kiss, then bathroom. Cool?”

“Uh, cool,” said Robbe.

The words had barely left his mouth before Sander’s lips were on his, something sweet, soft, and sloppy. Not as good as last night’s. Robbe decided he hadn’t really enjoyed that one, either. It was nerves that made it seem that way. He pulled away first.

It was kind of good, though. Ugh, kind of.

They turned, and Sander dragged Robbe into the bathroom by his wrist. He played the part of lovestruck teenager very well, from the mischievous glint in his eyes to the exaggerated gesture of the dragging. Once inside, he backed Robbe against a sink like they were going to kiss again, hard enough to make a loud clank. Then he withdrew, peeked out the door.

“Saw Noor,” he said, by way of explanation.

“Huh,” said Robbe.

“Is that the kind of stuff you want?”

“Don’t you have Transfiguration?”

Sander dismissed him. “I can cut. More important matters at hand.” He spun around to lean against the sink next to Robbe, who hadn’t moved since he was pushed. The sinks were arranged in a circular formation in the center of the bathroom, accessible from the stalls on either side. A large stained-glass picture of a massive snake glared down at them from the far wall. “What do you want this to entail?”

The porcelain dug into Robbe’s back at an unpleasant angle. He tried to remedy the feeling with a little fidgeting around. “What do you want it to entail?”

“You came to me. Clearly you have ideas. Britt will hate whatever.”

Robbe took a deep breath. “I just want Noor to think I’m in a relationship. So, like, you can do what you think—I mean, what will make her think—”

“Got it, got it.”

The bathroom was suddenly smaller than it felt a second ago. Silence made it even worse. Robbe stared at the floor so that he wouldn’t stare at Sander; he didn’t want to give off the impression that he was enjoying Sander’s company too much. He found himself thinking the same thing he’d been thinking since Sander kissed him yesterday: if only the boys knew, if only the boys knew, if only the boys knew… Which was a fruitless pursuit.

This was an arrangement and the relationship was fake. He wasn’t actually enjoying it.

No need to tell Jens or Moyo or Aaron anything more.

“Okay,” said Sander. “Give it five more minutes here like we’re making out. Then we head to the astronomy tower and we discuss the finer details. Sound like a plan?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.

Sander raised his wand and pointed it at a roll of toilet paper that sat on one of the toilets. The roll transformed into a compact CD player, floated over to their place at the sink, and began to play the same song as the player last night. “Not going to sit here in silence,” he said. The implication was that they wouldn’t talk to each other, Robbe thought. He dug his fingernails into the edges of the sink and counted down from three hundred so that he didn’t notice the veins in Sander’s hands.

They carried the player with them when they left the bathroom, only this time, Robbe could tell that Sander had actually performed some kind of bubble charm on the audio. No one so much as glanced in their direction as they wove their way through the packed hallways. They climbed the stairs to the astronomy tower, keeping to the right, and Robbe was surprised to watch Sander hop up into the little windowsill that Robbe fancied he owned.

“Alright, actual conversation.” Sander folded his legs and sat across from Robbe. “I should know things about you if I’m going to be convincing. And vice versa.”

“I’m a Hufflepuff,” said Robbe. That seemed like enough.

Not for Sander. “Real things. You know, mother’s maiden name, first grade teacher, the name of your first pet…”

Hang on, those questions sounded familiar. “Are you trying to steal my bank account?”

“Ah, so you have one?”

“A muggle one, yes. Not at Gringotts.”

Sander nodded, satisfied. “Me too. I mean, I have one at Gringotts, but it’s got like twenty Galleons in it. Maybe.” He pointed to the compact player. “Muggleborn.”

Robbe was a little startled at this information—Slytherin house favored purebloods, even when not in the midst of a war based on magical purity. Something about the founder and this whole thing with a basilisk.

“You too?” Sander prompted.

“I—uh, no,” Robbe said. “My dad is a wizard, just my mom isn’t, and I live with her during the summer.”

“Hm. What do you like to do in your spare time?”

“I don’t know. I study a lot. And I hang out with my friends, I guess.”

“Who are your friends?”

“Jens, Moyo, Aaron, and the girls. Are you going down a checklist or something?”

Sander laughed self-consciously. It was such a nice sound, holy shit, Robbe could listen to it all day. Sander adjusted his tie and shirt collar. “Forgive me for wanting to know more about you.” Robbe felt something swell in his chest and die when Sander continued, “What if Britt asks for info and I can’t give details? She’ll know something’s up for sure.”

“Yeah, of course,” Robbe ceded. Of course it was about the arrangement, that’s why they were there. Focus, Robbe. “The girls are Jana, Zoë, Amber, Yasmina, and Luca, if you want to write that down. We’re not really close, though. Just me and Jana.”

“Why’s that?”

“Jens is my best friend and Jana dated him for a while.”

“Huh. Committing that to memory.” Sander put his fingertips on his forehead and hummed to the tune of the CD’s song as if he were downloading information. “Okay, it’s there. Anything else?”

Robbe scoured his brain for something interesting about himself that would be helpful for a boyfriend to know. Boyfriend. Fuck. He gave himself a moment to savor the way it sounded in his head. Boyfriend. My boyfriend. There was a crisis there, in that it was so right compared to girlfriend’s wrongness, but he wasn’t going to have that breakdown right now. Boyfriend. Sexuality debates could wait until the whole fake-dating thing was done, because Sander wasn’t an option either way. Oh, but still, boyfriend.

“My favorite food is shrimp. I’m not a fan of reading but I’m okay at studying when Yasmina’s there. I’m a prefect. Is that enough?”

Sande shook his head. “I need something not a lot of people know. Insider knowledge.”

Insider knowledge? There wasn’t much of that in Robbe’s head. He’d been pretty open with everyone, except the maybe liking boys thing, and he wasn’t ready to admit that to himself.

He didn’t like boys.

“I was the one who broke them up,” Robbe confessed. “Jens and Jana, I mean.” He didn’t know why he picked this specific piece of information out of everything in his head; it was just the most available. Maybe it would serve Sander better to know a dark secret. “I told people something I shouldn’t have, so… well, you know. On purpose. I think you should know that.”

Sander squinted at him. “Not a good secret keeper. Okay.”

Yells echoed from the Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch match outside, mostly profanity and the occasional creative insult. Robbe was a seeker on the Hufflepuff team, Jens a chaser, and Aaron an alternate beater. They had a game next week, and it would make a lot of sense for Sander to attend, given the circumstances of their relationship… There should be something more to say to each other right now. Sander seemed content to linger in the silence. He rested his head on the brick behind him and looked out across the Great Lake, glimmering in the sunlight.

“When does it end?” said Robbe, at the same time as Sander said, “It’s much nicer up here at night.”

Sander turned from the window. “You first.”

“Oh, no, you can—”

“You first.”

“Uh, okay.” Robbe wrung his hands and wiped them on his pantlegs. “I wanted to know when it ends. The whole fake-dating thing. Like, do we pick a time, or—”

“Oh, I know that. Given it some thought.” Sander ran a perfect hand through his perfect hair. Not perfect—wow, Robbe really had to stop thinking shit like that, about how perfect Sander was. Every time he snuck another glance, there was another little detail that made Sander that much more striking. “Britt will just jump back in the second you’re out of the picture. End of term’s only a month away. She lives too far to follow me home, so I think that’s our best bet.”

A whole month. A whole motherfucking month. Robbe didn’t know if the boys could handle the responsibility of something that lasted that long. He didn’t know if he had it in himself.

“Or until one of us finds someone better,” Sander added.

Maybe not a month.

Not much to say after that.

“My mother is sick,” Robbe tried. The hard-hitting stuff was better material, more trust-building. Yes, Sander could use it against him, but Sander didn’t strike him as that kind of person. “Sick in the head. It’s passed genetically, so if I don’t get it, my kids probably will. Is that enough?”

He took Sander’s lack of response as an affirmative.

Robbe counted to three hundred again on the windowsill before carefully getting down. Sander probably wanted to be left alone with his music, like he’d wanted last night. It would be rude to stick around, Robbe reasoned. And he didn’t have infinite free time. He needed to catch someone from his Potions class to get the notes if he was going to keep his outstanding.

“I’m off,” he announced. “You have detention at five.”

“I’m not sitting for that,” said Sander. Other students began to push their way up the stairs for their astronomy class. “I’m doing you a service.”

“Filch will see you then.”

Robbe headed to the left side of the staircase for the trip down, but Sander reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him into a smooth kiss. Like the lap of a wave on the shore. Robbe didn’t see Britt around. Noor would be her Charms class until five. He cast a passing glance at the students milling around the classroom doors, looking for someone Sander needed to convince.

“That one was for the fans,” said Sander. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“You’ll see me,” Robbe replied. He had to hide his face on the way to his next class so that Sander didn’t see the blush creeping up his cheeks.

[dwellordream]

“As with monasteries and military orders, guilds and confraternities enshrined notions of brotherhood in their regulations and records. These organizations frequently were called fraternities (fraternitates, confr��ries, Brüderschaften, among many other terms), and their members were brothers (fratres, confrères, Brüder). For example, the Cologne textile guild registered its members’ names as “brother of the brotherhood” [bruder der bruderschaft]. …A letter book of the city of London records that in 1417, the Fraternity of Yeomen Tailors of London sought permission from the mayor and aldermen to gather to commemorate “the brethren and sisters of their fraternity deceased.”

This nomenclature reinforced the sense that each member was to think of his fellows not just as members of a social group, fictive kinship group, or even surrogate family, but as his brothers, a far more specific relationship.The language of fraternity employed by these guilds also served to define an ideal to which the members should aspire, built on the qualities of fairness, respectability, charity, and care after death. Idealized brotherhood was thus a model and a metaphor for guildsmen, and both uses testify to its influence on the medieval imaginary.

It is evident from surviving guild regulations that the members were to treat each other with fairness and respect in matters relating to the guild itself, to the exercise of their craft, and to each other. Brothers of the garment-cutters’ fraternity of Stendal were not permitted to cut cloth in their houses, on pain of ejection from the fraternity, as doing so would have offered an unfair competitive advantage over the other members of the guild.

The curriers of London emphasized loyalty in the opening statement of their late fourteenth-century regulations, declaring, “This is the charge of the oath of the brotherhood: whatever man that is received in it shall be good and true thereto.” In the event of a conflict between guild members, guild regulations delineated the procedure for attaining a fair and equitable resolution, as in the ordinances of the pouchmakers of London: “Also if any discord falls between any of our brethren, which God forbids, the parties shall come to the wardens and show their grievance, and the wardens shall do their diligence to bring them to a fair accord.”

The ideal brotherhood of the guilds included support of fellow guild brothers, who might easily fall on hard times in the “great wars, famines, and mortalities and other pestilences” of the age. The guild of St. Katharine in Norwich provided for the needs of impoverished members by requiring that “if any brother or sister falls into poverty, through accident of this world, his condition shall be helped by every brother and sister of the guild with a farthing a week.” The fraternity of carpenters in London included a similar measure, as well as one that provided financial aid for “any brother or sister who might fall into ... sickness or any other disease ... making it so that he may not help himself.” The belt makers of Paris stipulated that “if any orphan is poor and the child of a belt maker, and he wishes to learn the craft, the masters will be required to supervise him in the said craft,” for which they would receive funds from the confraternity.

The spiritual life of the guild members and the health of their souls were key concerns for the confraternities associated with Paris’ métiers as well as those of fourteenth-century England. The confraternity of the embroiderers was to perform “at the hôtel of the confraternity, in the church of Saint Opportuna in Paris, a low mass, for those [of the craft] and their successors.” The Parisian fullers’ confraternity received dues and fines from the craftsmen for “masses, candles, and its other business,” and the grain haulers’ confraternity of the Virgin Mary and St. Louis was charged with performing three masses each week. Its members were to meet annually to decide on “what they could [do] for the health of their souls.” …Norwich’s guild of St. Katharine required that “all the brothers and sisters shall come to the aforesaid church [of St. Simon and St. Jude], and there sing a requiem mass for the souls of the brothers and sisters of this guild, and for all Christian souls, and each offer there a farthing.”

Just as guild brothers aided each other throughout life and in the afterlife, they were expected to support each other at the moment of death. A twelfth-century German carpenters’ guild stipulated that whatever man or woman of the fraternity [fraternitatis] should depart this life, there will be given for his obsequies at death four pounds of wax; and for his vigil, six men, who will watch diligently, are appointed; and to his burial the men and women who are of the fraternity [fraternitatis] shall all be compelled to come. …In the event that a deceased member could not afford burial, some confraternities were prepared to pay the costs from the organization’s treasury, thereby underlining the importance placed on caring for the members..

The recurrent references to brothers and brotherhood found in guild ordinances show the extent to which the language of brotherhood was embedded within craftworker society throughout northwestern Europe. It is possible, of course, that the terms “confrère” and “confrérie,” for example, lost their familial specificity at some point during the Middle Ages, just as our “borough” no longer signifies a fortified town and “decimate” no longer means to kill one-tenth of a group. I suggest, however, that the guild members who used the terms of fraternity would have recognized the connection of “confrère” and “confrèrie” to the brothers and brotherhood of the family, just as we understand that “borough” refers to a town (if not fortified) and “decimate” involves death or destruction (if not at a precisely mathematical rate).

While the milieu of the craftworker was, in most respects, quite different from that of the martial elites who are the focus of this dissertation, guildsmen and noblemen alike (in theory) lived within the fellowship of Christian brotherhood. The guilds’ extensive use of the language of fraternity in guild statutes simply shows the ubiquity of that language, and the ideal of brotherhood, in medieval life. For craftworkers, ideal brotherhood was to be fair, honorable, charitable, and faithful even after death, making it much like the ideals in the religious and elite martial contexts.”

- Cameron Wade Bradley, “Brotherhood at Work: Guilds and Confraternities.” in Between Brothers: Brotherhood and Masculinity in the Later Middle Ages

[cindersandroses]

Digital Get Down, Chapter 1

AUTHORS: cindersandroses ( losille2000 and cinderella1181)

CHAPTERS: 1/?

PAIRING: Actor!Henry Cavill/ Plus-Sized OFC

GENRE: Romance/Fluff/HUMOR

FIC SUMMARY: When SuperHank met OrcPrincessPeach on the World of Warcraft message boards, it was love at first raid. Now, almost a year later, they’re ready to take the next step and meet in person. Half a world away from each other, both decide to meet in Atlanta for DragonCon, since she was already going to be there for her work as a game designer at Blizzard... never mind that she is a devout nerd. They both have to face the fact that reality is very different from a digital world.

RATING: Mature

AUTHORS NOTES: This idea happened while we were floating around our pool a few days ago. I don’t foresee this being very long, but as always, if you want more, we will write more.

Also on AO3!

Chapter 1

SuperHank: Hey girlie girl, I did it! I got the pass for DragonCon. After almost 10 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days, I’m officially coming to meet you!

OrcPrincessPeach: Yay! Are you sure you can afford it... and the airfare?

SuperHank: Dollface, for you, I would move the oceans and walk to you. I can’t wait. August seems so far away.

OrcPrincessPeach: Be still my beating heart, you sappy romantic. I can’t wait to see you.

SuperHank: Same here. I gotta go raid. I will talk to you later. I’ll text you before I go to sleep. Have a good day at work.

OrcPrincessPeach: I will see you later tonight!

Opal closed the laptop and smiled to herself, trying desperately to keep a squeal of delight from escaping her lips. Nothing ever made her feel as amazing as talking to Hank did, even when it meant little sleep and getting up well before the sun to do it. But Amber, her roommate, would be the first person to yell at her for making too much noise in the morning… especially since it involved Hank, whom Amber did not particularly like for some reason.

Nevermind that he and Amber had never actually talked to each other. And, in fact, Opal had only ever talked to the man herself, too. Well, “talking,” in so much that they called each other, texted each other, and chatted on the World of Warcraft message boards about everything and nothing at all. There was the one time, though, when she had been “talking” with Hank, that she may have gotten too loud during a little early morning (for her, anyway) phone sex.

So maybe Amber did have a point.

Opal’s cheeks heated at the thought, replaying the memory in her head as she pulled on her most adorable red peep-toe pumps. All the boys in her programming pod at Blizzard loved it when she wore them; they always made her feel like she could take on the world. Because, seriously, who was going to mess with a woman wearing sky-high red heels during the day? It was amazing what she could convince her fellow game designer nerds to do when she wore these heels with this outfit.

She smoothed her otherwise fairly normal navy blue sheath dress over her slightly rounded belly and wide hips. These clothes were her armor against the world, much like how her orc character dressed in the game. Opal and her orc both needed the image that they could take on the male-dominated World of game design, when in reality, she could very much be a shrinking violet. Especially when it came to her body.

Hence why she had only shared very, erm, specific photos of her body with Hank, and him with her… in the best light, angle and pose. He had an amazing body, and she, well, she didn’t have an amazing body. It wasn’t terrible, per se. It did the things she needed it to do, but she certainly could have spent more time at the office standing desks or in the employee gym. But her red pumps wouldn’t allow her to do either.

So she just had to hope--and pray--that when he saw her in the harsh light of day that he didn’t run away screaming. Because there certainly had been a few online boyfriends before this who had done just that.

Opal left her room and carefully made her way downstairs to get her bag together for work. Tycho, her rather large ragdoll cat, was laying on the back of the couch, half on the black bag and rubbing his chin on the rigid canvas handle. Clearly, the bag was his now, just like everything else in the house.

“Hey, you better move it, buddy. I gotta get to work so you get good gushy food.” She pointed at him.  “Be gone when I get back in here.”

Tycho rumbled a low meow in response and didn’t move.

“Freeloader,” she mused.

She headed into the kitchen with a huge smile returning to her face and butterflies making her slightly queasy. After almost a year, she was finally… finally… going to meet the boy she’d been dating online. Most people would take that as a sign that this was all it would ever be--online and still fairly impersonal.  To be fair, though, Hank had planned to come and see her once before, but work had not let him.  And it wasn’t like they were on the same continent, normally. They were halfway around the world from each other. But this time, he swore up and down that this was going to be it. They were going to cohabitate in the same hotel suite for a long weekend, and make good on all the very dirty promises they had made each other in the ten months they’d been “together.” Of course, she was well aware that he still may cancel, but for now, she was going to live in her dreamworld.

Amber was already in the kitchen as Opal made it into the room. Her roommate sat bleary-eyed at the kitchen table and stared at her cell phone screen.

“You already made coffee?” Opal asked.

The brunette nodded and motioned her head towards the almost full pot.  “Yeah, cause I didn’t have to get up at a stupid time in the morning to talk to my internet boyfriend.”

Opal rolled her eyes. “Amber, it’s not that bad.”

“Really, Opie? What time did you get out of bed this morning?” she asked, her eyebrow peaked.

Opal sighed. “Six.” Amber shook her head.  “It’s not normal. How long have you been ‘dating’ this dude?” she asked, emphasizing her point with air quotes and all.

“Almost a year, but he and I are finally meeting. We’re going to meet in Atlanta for DragonCon. It’s a halfway point between us, we figured it would be neutral territory,” Opal explained.

“Is Con really ‘neutral’? You’d live at a con if you could.”

Opal ignored her comment. As far as she was concerned, it was neutral… and certainly big enough to get lost in the crowd if things didn’t go well. She certainly didn’t want to bring him around her house if Amber planned to be there to scare him away.

Opal continued with a light, dreamy sigh. “It’s going to be super exciting. I’m ready to meet Hank. He is a fantastic guy; he is kind, funny, loves his family.”

“Sounds like you’re describing a labrador. Next thing, you’re going to tell me he is loyal and in love with you,” Amber replied, shaking her head. “You can’t be in love with someone you have never met in person.”

Maybe Amber was right, after all. How much could someone truly know a person from what they say alone? It’s merely a facet of who they are. Actions were also huge, and he had not yet proven anything to Opal in that category.

But still, Opal was sure Hank was different. She’d had a lot of online boyfriends throughout her life--her life revolved around the computer, so it was only natural. And comparing all the other examples with her current love interest, this just felt different. Like… it might actually be real.

“You can love their heart, and I adore him. He is pretty great. I’m just hoping he’s the one.” Opal grinned.  “We would have an amazing story to tell our kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids.”

Amber pressed her lips together into a terse line and returned to whatever was on her phone. “Well, when this all bursts in your face, Opie, you just come home to me and remember that I love you no matter what.”

Opal smiled. “I know, Amber. You’ll pick up all the pieces. But I don’t think that’s going to happen with him. I don’t know. He’s different.”

“Does he know?” Amber asked, the cup of coffee close to her mouth.

“Um... know what?” Opal asked.

“That you’re not some skinny bimbo?” Amber asked, motioning in her direction. Amber’s eyes scanned her body slowly, critically. “All the people on the internet have this idealized image in their head that the person they’re talking to is Giselle Bundchen, not Ashely Graham or Tess Holliday.”

“They are both gorgeous and many men are in love with them,” Opal defended. “And they’re both married.”

Amber shrugged. “I’m just preparing you for it, if it happens. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

This conversation, though, was hurting her. Hank wasn’t the direct cause of it, just a reason for Amber to start this. She knew Amber had her best interests at heart--no friend wants their friend to get hurt--but the way she achieved her goals, and the words she used, were not nice.

Opal sighed. “Look, he knows I’m fat. He knows I have curves and I’m not a size two. He and I have had several conversations about the fact I’m not some little skinny thing. He said he adores my heart, and he doesn’t care what kind of body it comes in.”

He also said he preferred thick women because he didn’t feel like he was going to break them when things got… athletic. But Amber didn’t need to hear that, either.

“My god, if that isn’t a line,” Amber scoffed.

Opal shrugged. “Amber, stop! Your thinly veiled attempt to fat shame me isn’t going to work. I’m going to go to Atlanta, I’m going to meet him, and I may even sleep with him.”

Amber rolled her eyes. “You won’t have sex with him. You’re a 32-year-old virgin.”

Opal shrugged. “You know, stranger things have happened.” She twisted the top on her thermos. “I’m going to be late for work, I’ll see you later.”

She walked back into the living room, removed the cat from his perch, picked up her bag and headed out the door to work. As she walked the block to the bus stop, she pulled her phone out and put on the playlist Hank had built her. She smiled as the songs began to play, each one having a special meaning to both of them. He was always adding new songs with little notes about why he added them.

These little love notes never failed to make her happy again. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if they ever stopped.

She knew what Amber said shouldn’t bother her as much as it did, but she was self-conscious. Her body had always been something that set her apart and had made her shy when it came to men. Of all the potential dates she’d had with online boyfriends, she had only been on three real dates in her adult life. All of them turned tail and ran once she said she was a virgin. So for those very few that were able to get past the body issue, those three considered her lack of experience to be insurmountable.

Hank didn’t make her feel like that. He didn’t seem to care, or if he did, it wasn’t a deal-breaker. If her lack of experience didn’t do it, there was a very real possibility that her other image issues would be the end of it.

When she arrived at the bus stop and sat down, Opal made the decision to push Amber’s nagging voice out of her head. She wasn’t going to let Amber break her confidence. Hank adored her, for who she was, and that was all that mattered.

She turned her music all the way up to block out the self-doubt and scrolled through her playlist, looking for her favorites. At the bottom of the list, added only a few minutes before, was a new song. Opal giggled and clicked on the song, closing her eyes to listen to the electronic 80s synth and Richard Marx croon, “Right Here Waiting.”