#he just asked ‘do you have a favorite book of the bible?’

[yeehawgeek]

my poor friend has no fucking clue how close he is to me typing a books worth of useless info

[samsmissingshoee]

ANGEL — SAM WINCHESTER.

SUMMARY — sam starts to grow fond of an angel. they have grown more comfortable around each other, and tensions run high when dean leaves for a bar.

WARNINGS — no plot all porn... 18+, softdom!sam, unprotected sex, p in v, oral, f!receiving, unexperienced!reader, angel!reader, LOTS of praise, biting, creampie, mentions of religion, sam's a sweetheart. he's also a freak.

WC — 4.3k. i got carried away.

A/N — i feel like i'm going to hell just from the warnings alone. i erm. i don't even know. shout out the two people who asked to get tagged in this 🙏 first ever smut fic, if you hate i'll probably delete my account. i am not editing 4.3k words btw. i'm lazy.

angels weren't supposed to enjoy the feeling of a human. that much was well known.

and when you came from heaven to assist castiel in whatever the hell it was that he was doing, that was repeated to you over and over again. these 'humans', they weren't important. your only job was to make sure sam winchester didn't get hurt. that was all this was supposed to be. a casual round of protecting the winchesters.

you didn't understand human norms, and at first, sam didn't like you. you didn't take personally, of course, because, well, sam hated any angel at first. castiel quickly explained to you about the brother's and how you'd be spending more time with them while he awaited directions. honestly, you couldn't care less about either of the brothers, too. they were hunters, and you were an angel. you weren't supposed to mix anyway.

sam winchester was more interesting than his older and shorter brother, though. sam was thoughtful and a lot more curious about you than he let on at first. as you spent more time 'watching' over him, you realized he enjoyed asking you questions about heaven, and the angels, and about castiel. and you tried to answer them to the best of your ability.

sam was more open to learning about you than dean, and he was more considerate when it came to teaching you knew things. slowly, he started defending you against dean's antics, and he learned about how curious you were, too.

he spent many late nights awake with you, struggling with his insomnia. you made it much more enjoyable. on the off chance that he did get some sleep, he'd wake up to you in the bunker, lounging and reading one of his books. as soon as you saw him awake, you'd pounce on him, eager to talk all about it.

sam found you endearing in the same way you found him intriguing. you both taught each other different things. he taught you about different emotions and how to communicate them to him. he showed you his favorite movies. he told you about his time in standford and about how he was studying law. you taught him about the bible, about praying and how you'd always come if he prayed for you. you taught him about heaven and hell, and angels and everything in between.

eventually, you two become friends, as much as younger sam would have hated to admit that. he showed you what friendship was and what it was like to worry about someone more than yourself. he explained to you what love was and about heartbreak. sam watched as you turned from this unemotional, blunt angel into a person, crafted by the things you loved.

you two kissed about six months after hunting with him. you were unexerienced, and painfully so, and your first kiss was nothing but giggles and awkward stares. the second, third, and fourth ones weren't any better. sam was ridiculously dotting and patient, and even though you were an angel and didn't understand what a relationship was, you still tried for him, and he loved you for it.

after a week of sneaky kisses and rushing into each other's rooms once dean fell asleep, you seemed to have gotten the hang of it. you and sam hadn't done anything remotely sexual other than a few hands-under-the-bra's and one /bad/ attempt at a handjob. sam was enthralled in watching you become more confident and learning how to touch him the way that he liked and how to kiss him properly. so he didn't mind taking things slow.

you two agreed to not have sex yet, partially because to you, it was a sin, and partially because you didn't know what you were doing. sam had no issue waiting. that was, until tonight.

you don't even remember how this happened, honestly — the lingering touches became more frequent, more needy, and at some point, sam had slipped you out of your shirt and bra. you'd barely even made it to his room /thank god for dean being out at a bar tonight/, before he was kissing you, his lips hiding something more intense tonight.

you wouldn't have protested anyways, but as soon as your shirt was gone, sam was all over you.

"i know it feels dirty, honey. but it's not. i wouldn't lie to you." sam hums against your throat, kissing the soft skin. when he talks like that, all low and soothing, you might just believe anything he says. he pulls back to look at your concerned expression, and his smile softens.

his movement stills, and you frown, almost wishing sam would convince you to do more. that feeling in your stomach, the one that felt close to nausea, started to feel nice. and you craved more of it. you craved more of sam.

although his desire outweighed his guilt for ruining the purity of an angel like this, sam still sat up for a moment, his hazel eyes practically begging you. he was nothing, if not a gentleman. "do you want this?" sam asks, hushed and spoken like a prayer, and you think you might get sent to hell just from how he's looking at you.

sam's hair is a ruffled mess, and his long sleeve black shirt was rolled up to his elbows. his carhartt jacket had long been discarded by you, tossed somewhere into the dark abyss that was the dingy, horribly lit motel room. he looks beautiful.

"i do, sammy, but—" you breathe out shakily. before you can finish answering, his hands are on your hips, tugging you closer to him. you're both standing up, his large hands moving up your skirt to trail up your sides. sam can feel your back arch against his hands slightly, and it's taking everything in him to not lose his resolve.

san, who previously said he was okay with waiting, felt like a selfish man tonight. he could honestly care less about your innocence right now. what he did care about was you, though. sam knew that if you wanted him to continue, he wouldn't be able to stop.

"but what?" sam mumbled, his fingertips digging against your hips. his erection was pressed dangerously against your thigh. he shifted you until you were pressed against him — he knew what he was doing and the effect it was having on you. you didn't answer and could only grumble a complaint out.

"just needa taste you, honey. we don't have to go all the way if you don't want to." sam's words are a contradiction to how he was staring at you. "although, i have thought about doing more." he hums, and he has a slight shit eating grin on his face. it's sort of surprising that this is your sweet sammy.

you're conflicted— this is wrong. sinful. but there was a bubbling heat in your stomach, and you wanted nothing more than to make sam feel good. maybe a part of being human was indulging in your sins. you pout at him slightly, and sam has to stop himself from moving his hips up against you. he doesn't just want this, he needs this. he needs to corrupt you, to ruin your innocence until all you can think about is him.

"fine. be gentle, though, sam. i mean it." you relent, although you didn't need much convincing. honestly, if he tried to pull off of you, you'd be the one begging him to touch you and not the other way around.

"oh, fuck—" sam groans, and he almost instantly falls to his knees. his hands are tugging off your jeans faster than you can process. "you don't know how long i've wanted this." his tone makes you feel dirty, and you can't help when your brows crumple into a slight glare. you didn't know what he was doing, but you wanted him to hurry it up.

you help him kick your jeans off around your ankles and step out of them. you're left in your cotton panties, and for some reason, it turns sam on more to know you weren't planning for this. honestly, neither was he.

"leave these on." two fingers slip underneath the elastic by your thigh, tugging them and letting them go, the fabric snapping against your skin. the action makes you suck in a breath. sam's lips make their way to your upper thighs, sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin. it's not enough, and he knows that. he's driving you crazy on purpose to see you squirm for him.

"sam—" you chastise, like a scold, your hand running through his hair and tugging on it gently, trying to bring your hips closer to him. sam fucking moans. he moans at getting his hair pulled, and it makes your brows crease in bewilderment. /you would definitely be keeping that in mind./

sam looks up at you with those same puppydog eyes, and you swear you're going to burst into literal flames and have your wings removed instantly. "needa taste my girl's pussy. y'gonna let me?" sam says softly, his voice muffled by your thigh, gently biting on a spot. when you whimper, he pulls back to kiss at the forming bruise, his hands massaging at the fat of your ass.

truth be told, you'd probably let him fold into a pretzel at this point, but you didn't want to stroke his massive ego.

the noise you make is answer enough, and sam deftly pulls your panties to the side. his hand brings yours to hold them. he needs *both* hands for devouring you. sam's two middle fingers move to collect your slick from your folds, and you shiver. his brows raise, and he smiles again. "you're soaked, baby. you really want me that bad?" he asks, and you're nodding quickly.

sam can't hold back when you look this pretty above him. you can feel his breath against you. even just looking at you bare in front of him is enough to make him want to cum in his fucking jeans.

he flattens his tongue against you, and your hips stutter against his mouth. you've never felt anything like this before. you can feel sam's grin against your cunt, his hands cupping into your ass and pulling your hips further into his mouth.

seeing such a large man, especially one like sam, at his knees, lapping at your pussy like a fucking starved man— it makes your head fuzzy.

without warning, his middle finger slips into you. your hands move to his hair to steady yourself, massaging at the brown strands, pushing some from off his sticky forehead. the concentration on his face is almost cute, but it soon becomes too hard to keep your eyes open.

another finger slips past your folds, and you're mouthing his name like a prayer. his fingers are rocking into you at a slow speed, but his mouth— it was fucking dirty, the way he'd suck on your clit, only pulling away to breathe. everytime he pulled away, a string of saliva followed, connected between you two. his chin was slick with your arousal, his chest panting with heavy breaths. and then he was right back to devouring you.

maybe sam winchester was the devil.

your hands tug on his hair slightly, and sam groans against you. the heat in your stomach was building and sam was near drunk on your pussy. when he looked up at you with those hazel eyes, you moaned, your thighs tremoring.

"sam— sam, it feels too good... please—" you breathed out, panting too now, and sam didn't relent, no matter how hard you were tugging at his hair. his hand was holding your hip hard not daring to let you squirm away from him. indents of his fingertips would ruin your pretty skin by the morning. you had to shy away from his intense gaze.

sam pulled away, still fucking his fingers into you. "eyes on me, baby." he mumbled, before sinking flush against your clit again. you listened, although your face was an embarrassing hue of pink. sam was just as loud and needy, if not worse than you. everytime your thighs clenched around him, or you tugged on his hair, profanities and groans slipped from his lips. he needed you.

sam kept his tongue latched onto you, his eyes showing that he was as desperate as you were to make you cum. the noises he was making were filth, soft grunts and groans, all muffled by your puffy pussy. when your eyes flickered down, you noticed that one of his hands were palming himself through his jeans.

with every shake and spasm, it was like sam knew you were close. he was using his hands to rock your hips more onto his tongue, your weight practically suffocating him. sam would gladly die a happy man in between your folds, if it meant getting to look up at your beautiful face contorting in pleasure. his chest swells at the fact that he is the one who gets to touch you like this.

that feeling returned as quickly as it left, and soon you were cumming on his face, your legs shaking as he kept his fingers curled into your folds. that was probably the best thing you'd felt since coming to earth. sam pressed a kiss to your overstimulated clit, before kissing up your stomach, your breasts, collarbone, and finally standing to his full height over you.

"how was that?" sam asks, licking the wetness off his fingers. as much as he wanted to ruin you, he also wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

heavy pants still wracked both of your bodies, your thighs aching and barely able to hold your own weight. he had the audacity to ask that after making you feel things you hadn't felt in your centuries alive? in between deep breaths, you shot him a slight glare.

"what do you think?" you tutted, puffing his lips out in that gorgeous pout that made sam was to kiss you stupid, holding onto his biceps so you didn't lose balance.

sam grins in response, his hands moving to your bare hips, pressing you into him. his cock was fucking painfully hard and he had to refrain from rutting against you. "i need to fuck you, honey." fuck sam and his beautiful eyes, pleading at you. his hand leads your to palm him from over his jeans, and he moans softly, so prettily.

you were conflicted. you knew his cock would feel so much better than his fingers, but this was wrong. "sammy—" you say in the same chastising voice that drives him insane.

"please, let me fuck you. need to feel you around my dick. fuck, doesn't even have to be all the way." sam pleads, and you have a hard time saying no to that. he was practically begging you. you sigh at how weak you were for this man. "please fuck me, sam."

sam eyes widen slightly, and he can't help his grin as he pushes you back against the bed. his eyes stay on you as he pulls his shirt off, discarding it across the motel floor along with all of yours. you can't help but stare at him. all tanned, scarred, and bruised, despite being young. it was so different compared to your imperfect skin, free of any blemishes or let alone scars.

sam's tantalizingly slow as he takes off his belt, followed by his jeans. he's fucking huge. that much you can tell by his bulge alone. your eyes widen slightly when he strips his boxers off.

he wanted to take his time with you, to treat you like the goddamn angel you were, to wrack every noise he can from your lips. but, sam was impatient as hell. and he was really, really hard.

"you're beautiful." sam coos, caging you in between his much larger frame. there is a shine in his gaze, so soft and loving, that it almost makes you feel queasy. he's not doing this because he's bored or because he wants to get off. sam's doing this because you're his world.

"you're alright." you respond, not able to hold back the giggle that escaped your lips afterward, especially when you felt sam's annoyed sigh against the crook of your neck. you can feel his irritated grin. sam fell in love with that devilish laugh of yours, and he found it endearing that even during this, he could make you sound like that.

it was such a sharp contrast from how emotionless and... awkward— you first were when you met the winchester brothers. sam has loved watching you adapt this sassy personality, loved eyeing you while you admire new things, hearing the way your voice heightened whenever you laughed, the way you took over parts of his and dean's own quirks and personalities.

"just alright? you wound me, angel."

this time, you rolled your eyes. you turn your head to the side to press your lips against the mole below his right eye. "you're beautiful too, sammy. you already know that." you huff out, your tone unmistakably soft. sam scoffed, nipping at her neck slightly. it was nice to hear that from you, regardless of what he thought about himself.

unfortunately for you, the compliment rushes to sam's head. he sits up slightly, his cock pressed against your lower stomach, a hand brushing over your cheek, moving your fanned hair out of your face. "are you sure you're okay with this? we can stop— i'll put on a movie, and we can forget—"

you interrupt sam's worries by pressing a kiss to his palm. "yes sam, i'm sure. please." and that small act of intimacy followed by your voice pleading for him was enough reassurance for sam. no need to tell him twice.

sam pumps himself a few times, his eyes not once leaving yours. "scoot your hips up for me, honey." you oblige, and you can feel his cock pressed against your clothed entrance. the sight leaves nothing for the imagination and sam sighs as his fingers pulls your panties down to your ankles.

sam looks like he's in fucking heaven, his lips parted and staring at you bare in front of him. his thumb habitually moves to your clit, rubbing soft circles against it just to watch you squirm under him.

"sam, quit being a damn tease." you frown and wiggle your hips into his more. his gaze is making you shy, something you didn't know was even possible as an angel.

"innocent angel, my ass." sam mumbles under his breath, but he obliges, lining up his cock to you. he collects your slick with his tip, dragging the wetness over your already overstimulated clit. sam rubs it against your folds a few times, before pressing only about halfway in. the moan that leaves your lips is heavenly, so much so that sam's head has to fall to your shoulder and bites it softly so he doesn't cum too fast like a damn high schooler.

"you're so fucking tight, shit—" sam groans and it's so dirty coming from him. he's usually so sweet to you, so hearing this is different. and arousing. but different. you'd expect this talk out of dean, not sam.

sam really wished he would've slept around a little more in college now because it was taking far too much concentration to not finish already.

"need to fuck you, baby. please." sam all but whimpers out. all of your beliefs, your nightly prayers, all of it was gone the second you felt him inside of you. you can only nod in response, your hands tugging at his waist to come closer to you.

sam stills, looking at you for a moment like he can't believe you want this. and slowly, he pushes in all the way, and you both share a pornographic moan.

sam is quiet as he lets you adjust to his size. he wasn't one to toot his own horn, but he was pretty big. and even though your vessel wasn't a virgin, mentally, you still were. sam had a mantra of things going through his head — the main ones being: please don't cum, please don't cum, please don't cum. don't say i love you. don't move too fast yet. let her adjust.

sam leans down to kiss your forehead. "good?" he hums.

you nod again. "hurts a little." and sam is nothing but patient, kissing each of your temples before brushing your hair away.

"i promise you're doing so good. it's gonna hurt for a moment. it'll feel better soon. just relax." sam murmured against your shoulder, his lips sighing down towards your collarbone. "gonna move now, sweet girl." calloused palms are pressing your thighs to your chest. he leans down enough so you can hold on to his shoulders if you need.

with one hand still on the back of your leg, and the other one cupping one of your breasts, he pulls out almost all the way before rocking in slowly. your eyes screwing shut from pleasure is enough to test the waters with a more heavy thrust. "that's it, baby. look at you—" sam groans, his fingertips digging into your skin. his eyes were glued to where his cock was entering you rhythmically, and god, he could get addicted to that sight. sam could fucking see where the tip of his cock was pressing into your belly. his palm moved over it, adding slight pressure to your lower pelvis. the feeling made him groan out your name softly. he was just as loud as you were. "so beautiful."

part of you wanted sam to shut up so you could focus on the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock, but the other half of you enjoyed the flithy words leaving his flushed lips.

"oh, fuck. sammy, 's too much—" you whimpered out, your hand squeezing his biceps. your legs wrapped around his waist to bring him closer, the balls of your heels digging against his ass. sam think he likes that you're not very vocal. it makes every beg, every moan that much more special to him. he was the only one who got to see his angel falling apart like this.

everything about sam is fucking massive, from his height, to his sheer size difference over you. it shouldn't have been shocking that his dick was huge too, but you felt it now. you felt every single inch, stretching you out, your arousal slipping down his shaft. sam's thrusts grew more feverish, his shaggy brown bangs falling into his face as his head fell forward slightly. "i know you can handle it baby." he grunted in response to your plea, hazel eyes fucked out with lust.

that feeling in your lower belly returned, and now, at least, you know what it meant. it was overwhelming, but not enough for you. your hand reached for sam's hand, guiding it to you clit. sam thought that was the hottest thing he'd ever fucking seen, and shuddered slightly. "you wanna cum around my cock? is that it, sweetheart?" sam asks, a small, contemplating smile on his lips.

you're writhing under his cock, your back arching off the bed, his thumb rubbing soft circles around your nub. you tap his bicep in warning of your approaching orgasm, but he doesn't stop. he doesn't slow down either. in fact, he ruts his hips faster. the feeling of you clenching around his dick is enough to send him over the edge, too. he's biting down hard on his cheek to stop himself from cumming before you. he wants, needs to see you cum first, before he can.

your face contorts into pleasure, and you cum hard, sam still fucking you through your orgasm. he groans and his eyes close when he watches you making a mess all over him. "thaaat's it. that's my girl." he encourages, the feeling of your walls clenching around him tipping him over the edge. "fuck. gonna fill you up." he grunts against your shoulder, his hips stuttering slightly and you moan as you feel his cock twitch inside you, before you feel cum spurt into your cunt.

sam pulls out a moment after, his eyes blown out when he watches his spend leak from your pulsating hole. he uses two fingers to spread it around over your folds. once he's satisfied with his handiwork, he slumps down into the bed next to you.

you're still a panting, sighing mess. you feel your legs twitch occasionally, and you're finally coming to your senses. you were just fucked stupid by your best friend. a human.

"jesus, sam. is this really what humans are doing?" you ask, out of genuine curiosity, and sam pinches your side with a slight laugh. he looks spent, almost as bad as you. his head falls to your shoulder, pressing his lips to the soft skin present.

"the lucky ones, yeah." sam huffs in amusement. "you're okay, right? i didn't hurt you, or pressure you or anything?" his voice is a little persistent, worried, already overthinking like he wasn't just inside of you.

"'course not. that was amazing. i think i'd go to hell if it meant having sex everyday— i see why castiel was encouraging me into trying this." you tilt your head to the side, and sam raises an eyebrow. he didn't even dare ask what odd things castiel told you about. nor did he want to know. he couldn't see castiel doing anyone without scaring them away with his bluntness first.

sam chooses to ignore that, leaning over to pepper kisses onto your cheeks, nose, and forehead. anywhere you'll let him at this point. "you did amazing. absolutely drained me. y'sure you haven't done that before?" he teases, and you roll your eyes at him. your eyes watched him with concern when sam stood.

"alright, crazy girl. let's get you cleaned up."

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Day 24 for @steddie-spooktober, Pumpkin. I'll just finish this hellish month and then write all the good Halloween-y stuff when people already look forward to Christmas. There.

"Oh my god. That's Eddie Munson!"

Steve's eyebrow did that treacherous twitch. Here we fucking go again.

Robin just snickered. "Oh wow. That's like what, the fifth one today?" She didn't even look sorry for Steve, the traitor! She just kept making the coffee order, creating a lovely heart in the milk foam.

The woman who ordered the coffee didn't even bother to try and whisper to her friend. She was squealing and pointing at the unsuspecting rock star who had earphones over his head. "What do you think he's reading? It must be something dark. He has a reputation, you know."

Another twitch in Steve's eyebrow, but he was a professional. It was fine. He could do his job even when annoyed. Maybe.

Robin flipped the whiteboard with their seasonal specials. The other side revealed a meticulously prepared game of Eddie Munson-themed bingo. "Wanna play, Steve?"

He scowled at the board. All of those were classics, the stupid shit people say when they meet a rock star like Eddie Munson.

He took an erasable marker and scribbled X next to the questions, comments and other atrocities he managed to catch.

I wonder if he'll show me that special tattoo if I ask nicely. Check.

I heard he's unforgettable in bed. Check.

People say he has a...you know. A piercing down there. Check.

I don't believe the rumors. A guy like that can't be taken for long. He was made to sleep around. Check.

I wonder what he's drinking. Probably something dark and bitter. Mmm, how mysterious!

"Bingo!" whispered Robin. "Now, as per the rules of this humble establishment, once we have a bingo, you get to go there and be a bitch. Do your worst, oh platonic soulmate of mine. I'll be watching."

Who was Steve to deny Robin one of her favorite hobbies? He fluffed his hair and re-applied his lip oil, arranged some pastries on a kitten-shaped plate and made his way to Eddie Munson.

Eddie was lost to the world, but there was a familiar pattern in Steve's footsteps, one that reverbated through the wooden floor. In a second, Eddie had dropped his book and gave Steve the widest smile. One that he couldn't even conjure up on stage. This smile was only for Steve, and Steve fucking hoped the women noticed that.

Eddie made grabby hands at him, pulling him down into a quick kiss. "Is your shift over, Stevie? Can we go?"

Steve shook his head. "Nah, two more hours to go. Ish. Are you sure you don't want to wait for me home? You must be tired."

"Tired?! Pffft. I mean, yeah, but I want to spend time ogling my boyfriend when he's at his sexiest - covered in flour and sugar. And speaking of sugar..." He glanced at the plate. "Is that for me?"

Steve laughed and set the plate in front of him. "Honestly? Even if it wasn't, those doe eyes of yours would persuade me in a second. But yeah. It'll be Halloween soon, and I was testing out some spooky cookies. Do you like pumpkins?"

Eddie gasped and clutched his heart. "Do I?!"

Steve kissed Eddie on the top of his head and put his earphones back on. In a few seconds, Eddie was back in his own world, book, music and cookies.

In a corner of his eye, Steve saw the two young women, speechless. Robin was serving them their coffees, giddy with anticipation. She'd prepared them in to-go cups, just in case.

Steve stood in front of them, flipped his hair and smirked. "Well, ladies. You've had many questions or guesses, and I'm happy I can answer them. You know. To give you some peace of mind" He nodded to Robin. "The list, Rob?"

Robin glanced at their bingo board. "I wonder what he's reading!" she read out.

Steve nodded and returned to the frozen guests. "The book to end all books. That's what Eddie calls the...uh. Tolkien bible thingy. Silmarillion." He pronounced it gery carefully. "He reads it to me sometimes, when I can't sleep. Works like a charm." He might have smirked at the blush creeping up the woman's face. "Next."

Robin saluted him. "Special tattoo?"

"He won't show it, I made him promise he'd no longer get arrested for public indecency. Besides, it's only me that gets to see it. Next."

Robin fake gagged. "Is he unforgettable in bed?"

"Sure is. He talks to my chest hair. I think they're a couple."

Robin gagged again. "Why...ladies, get better questions! That piercing down under?"

Steve snickered. "Very real. Very...effective." He sneaked a glance at Eddie. Sexy and charismatic, yes, but more importantly warm, happy and home.

In a sing song voice, Robin got to the next point. "Is he really taken?"

"Take a guess," Steve winked at them. Or at least tried to, because the customers were already halfway out of the door with their coffee cups, and a very generous tip left on the counter.

"Aw," muttered Robin. "Shame, I thought these two would last longer. It's been ages since someone lasted the full Munson reverse bingo."

Steve laughed and helped her clean the table. "Would a pumpkin cookie console you?"

"Only if I don't have to hear about your bedroom rituals ever again," she said and reached for a cookie. "Or at least until the end of the shift."

[cursecuelebre]

Top Recommendations for Norse Pagans that aren’t Problematic.

There is a lot of books by people who are racist and part of far right side of Heathenry and I’m going to try my best and list the books I have that helped me on my path that isn’t problematic and have questionable intentions. Books and YouTube channels.

Anglo Saxon Socerery and Magic by Alaric Albertson. He is very knowledgeable in his work and path especially on runes which includes the rune poem to make your own interpretation and witchcraft side of things. He even talks about the Elves which I appreciate because not a lot of Norse authors talk about them. It’s more Germanic than Norse but I can’t see any problem adopting certain aspects since they are very similar. I will say he does take himself a bit serious at times but his information is so good and worthwhile. I have not read his first book on Travels through middle earth but it focus on more the pagan side.

Poetic Edda and Prose Edda: it’s what every Norse pagan needs. It’s the foundation of Norse paganism not bibles but myths and tales that can help along our journey. There is tons of translations, but my favorites are Dr. Jackson Crawford Poetic Edda and Anthony Fawkes Prose Edda. But look into other sagas as well like Volsung which Dr Jackson Crawford also wrote about.

Beowulf. More of a Germanic tale but again includes it has roots of Germanic sorcery, traditions, religion like the concept of Wyrd (Fate), the runes, and values within his society like loyalty and mythical creatures. Again there is many translations even Jrr Tolkien did a incompleted version of Beowulf but I think Tom Shippey finished that version I could be wrong. Nonetheless explore more than one, the oneI have is by Seamus Heaney.

Grimm Fairy Tales this mostly German Folklore but it’s still quite important to learn about in German folk magic, creatures and entities in German folklore tends to be very real to the practitioner in their spellwork.

The Way of Fire and Ice by Ryan Smith a very progressive outlook in Norse paganism, he talks about creating communities in Norse paganism and calling out and denouncing Nazis in the community how Norse Paganism is inclusive and how to be open to all types of people. But he has a beginner approach to the deities, beliefs, values within Norse paganism.

Look into a lot of academic sources that’s where you will find a lot of information on Norse paganism and religions.

Tacitus Germania - A Roman historian talking about the Germanic tribes their culture and customs.

Saxo Grammaticus history of the Danes

The Viking Way by Neil Price it goes good in depths about magic in Scandinavia like Seidh

Dictionary of Norse Mythology a quick guide to northern myths, if you are trying to find a specific god and you don’t have time to look up in a book it’s in there with great information to each one.

Children of Ask and Elm: History of Vikings by Neil Price on Scandinavian culture during the Viking age

Some YouTube Channels

The Norse Witch: Bente lives in Germany and their channel encompasses all of Norse paganism more around magic. They do interviews with other Norse witches of folk magic like Icelandic and Danish. Even gives good book recommendations and advice on general spellwork as well!.

Dr Jackson Crawford he is an author but he also has a YouTube channel. He was a professor in Colorado on Norse culture, mythology, and language and now is a full time YouTuber. He did a series of videos on the runes which are more historically accurate. Discusses the myths and the language and what do they mean. Jackson Crawford isn’t a Norse pagan nor he doesn’t care if you are one but just letting you know he isn’t coming from a pagan perspective.

The Welsh Viking also like Jackson Crawford but still has really great knowledge on Viking culture.

De Spökenkyker who is a channel that focus on German Folk magic living in Germany who is a practicing German Folk Witch.

Please feel free to add on any recommendations that are helpful and useful to the Norse pagan Community!

[filthygalli]

Unholy

Fem!Reader x Priest!Hwang In-Ho (one shot)

Warnings: 18+, Sexual Innuendo, Not for religious people tbh, mention of fingering, sex, bibles, beliefs, and many more that I forgot. Badly written and also not proofread.

Word Count: 1747

Author's Note: I wrote this while waiting for my friends outside the lobby of my school, it took me an hour to construct something like this but I feel like it's bad, please let me know what do you think! 🥺🖤

You're not as faithful as your parents, they pray everyday and night, thanking god for everyday life that God made for them, going to church every Sunday, worshipping their god, offering help at the church when they can—while you their only daughter and child aren't that faithful, you respect it though, it's just you have more important things to do since you're in college and also working as a librarian at a local Library not too far from your house. You work there for months now and honestly, you enjoy it. You get to read your favorite books while helping the locals to find their own books, recommending them books, telling them where it is located, it's simple but you enjoy it.

One day, there's this Tall and handsome middle aged man went inside the library, he's alluding, his jaw is Sharp, his hair looks soft and fluffy—it almost cover his forehead, it's also a dark brown color, you looked at him from up to down, he wears a rimless glasses, pushing it up on his nose with his index fingers, he wears a black pants, a leather boots that heels clicked everytime he walks—he looks hot and sexy, yet innocent. Too innocent looking for an old man like him, you also noticed his clothing, similar from what the priest wears, black button up sleeve that hugged every muscle on his figure, the way his biceps tightened around the sleeve of his shirt, veins popping out as he adjusts the sleeve from his elbows, then he walked towards you—Wait Towards you?!—His gaze on you is soft and quiet, he slowly walks towards you, the heels of his leather booths echoed through the thick air of silence, You gulped as he smiled at you before speaking, “Hi, Good morning.” He said leaning down a little at your table, Your breath hitched as his dark brown eyes turned up to look at you, ‘God…’ you thought, a silver cross necklace hangs on his neck as he leaned down, “Hi, Goodmorning Sir..” you mumbled as you tried to pretend that your busy, “I'm sorry to bother but I need some help to find a specific book..” he said as he deeply chuckled, ‘Fuck, he looks and sounds so hot’ you thought as you gave him a shy smile, “Ah..What kind of book is it?” You said slightly fixing your skirt as you stood up, He paused for a moment, “Well…I-” he hesitated before chuckling again, “It's a book about.. Erotic fiction,” he said scratching the back of his neck, avoiding your look, ‘Oh…not so innocent at all’ you thought as you gave him a smile, “Well, we have a lot,” you said chuckling at him, “yeah..” he muttered as he smiled back, he smiled brightly, “Follow me, Mr..?” You said walking towards the book section as you turned back to him, “In-Ho, Hwang In-Ho.” he looked down on your figure as he towered you, “Mr. Hwang…please, Follow me.” You said as he nodded, following you after.

“Here we are,” you said as you pointed at the bookshelves full of erotic fictions that Mr. Hwang asked you, “That's a lot…” he said as his eyes wandered through numerous books. In Front of him, his eyes twinkled at the different colorful and dark book covers, “What do you recommend? Ms..?” he said eyeing you, “Y/n L/n” you mumbled as he nodded, “Y/n..” he tested your name on his lips, he liked the sound of it, it's unique and beautiful—perfect for such a beautiful woman like you, “Well, Nice to meet you, Ms. Y/n.” He said extending his hand for you to shake, you looked at his hand, Fuck his hand look so big compared to yours, it's veiny and it looks soft—You extended your hand as you felt his soft touch against your skin, you shook it as Mr.Hwang didn't break eye contact with you, “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Hwang.” You muttered, “In-Ho, Call me In-Ho, Sweetheart.” You blushed at the name he called you, Sweetheart? You repeated the name inside your head, you smiled slightly to yourself, Mr. Hwang noticed it, he smirked as he pulls his hand away from your grasp, “So,” you breathe out, “It's quite odd for someone like you to find such books like these–” you said motioning the books around the two of you, he chuckled deeply, “I like reading, it's just,” he stopped for a moment, unsure of what's he going to say, “I wanted to try the uhm, this kind of genre.” He said as he slowly looked away from you, embarrassed. “I see, well, there's a lot of books that are great under the genre that you're curious about,” you said as you slowly wander your eyes around the bookshelves, finding a specific book that might interest Mr. Hwang—He glance at you; admiring your innocent features, the way you would look at him…it's pure innocence, your soft and pinkish lips, he also noticed your hands earlier , the way his own hands gripped yours, your delicate touch made him shiver a little, The way your skirt hugged your curves—it fits perfectly on you, the only thing he can think about is bending you over on your table as he raise your skirt, spanking your ass hard that'll leave marks on your skin for days, or maybe bending you over as he slid his fingers inside you, pumping in and out of your pussy teasingly as you beg him to go faster as you chase your high, he felt his pants get tight as he thinks about his unholy thoughts about you, for god sake—he’s a damn priest, why would he think such things like this? He'll burn in hell because of you, but his soul is worth burning if he sinned because of you.

He'll make you quiver, shake, and whisper his name like a fervent prayer.

His eyes grew darker, as you explained every detail of the book that you recommended to him. At this point he doesn't need that book, he needs you, he yearns for you.

“Mr. Hwang?” You called his name, “Hmm?” He muttered, snapping himself out of his thoughts, “I said, Would you enjoy these?” You said bringing the two books from your hand to his face, he looked at the dark cover of the book, it had skulls and roses on it, ‘Haunting Adeline’ he read the book title in his mind, “Oh..what is it about?” He asked tilting his head a little, “Well…it's a cat and mouse trope, he stalks this girl and do stuffs to her..” you said almost a whisper, he noticed that you were shy, he finds it adorable, “Ah, I see…that'll do, I'll let you know if I liked it or not,” he chuckled which made you chuckle too, “Alright, just bring it to my desk so I can log the book under your name,” you said as you gave him a knowing look, he nodded and followed you behind.

You logged the book under his name and asked for his details, “Sorry but…what's your name again?” You asked slightly embarrassed. That's a big lie, Of course you know his name. He chuckled, “Next time…I'll make sure you'll remember my name.” He teased as he deeply chuckled, the sound of his chuckle sent shivers down your spine, “It's Hwang In-Ho, Sweetheart.” There is it again, that little nickname. “Right, I'll make sure to remember it this time.” You gave him a smile as you gave the book to him, “Here you go, Mr. Hwang.” he grabbed the book on the table, still looking at you, “I told you to call me In-Ho, sweetheart.” he said as he grinned, “In-Ho…Alright.” You say as you nodded, he left after that.

In-Ho went out of the Library, his mind is full of your image all he could think about is Y/n. Y/n. Y/n. Y/n. He can't stop himself from thinking such things about you, he feels disgusting, pathetic—he’s a fucking priest! First, he borrowed a book that it's clearly not appropriate for him to read, second, the way he imagined how he will bend you over and fuck you all over the bookshelves in that library makes his pants tight, he groans to himself as he reach his house, throwing the book on the coffee table, he sat down on the sofa as he questions himself about what he just did a couple of minutes ago.

Reading is one of In-Ho’s hobbies. He likes to read any kind of genre of books, he owns tons of erotic fiction in his home, it sounds odd that a priest who's supposed to be reading bibles and pray every day and night likes to read unholy fiction novels. But, earlier at the library it's his first encounter with a woman like you, you're beautiful unlike other women that he had one night stand with, Christ—he’s a priest and he does one night stand?!—He likes how calm you are, how cute you are when you get shy or stutter a little when he looks at you, he yearns for you, he wants you badly, and he'll make you his no matter what.

You sat on your chair doing paperwork as the priest from earlier came across your mind, you thought of how handsome he is for a priest, how veiny his hands are, how fit he is—is he really a priest?—how he looks at you with those eyes, it's not just a normal look, it's the hungry gaze, how his pupils dilate when he looks at you, it's weird because priests should be reading bibles instead of erotic fictions, right? Also…a dark romance book too? You wonder if he likes to read books like that, you wonder what book is his favorite, or where and what church is he a priest on because you want to see him on that altar speaking words of god as you hear it as words of lust, how you want him to moan your name like a prayer, spread your folds like a page from a Bible, or bend your back on the table like how he bends the spine of the book where words of god is written, you feel a pool of wetness on your thighs as you squeeze them together, it feels so illegal, thinking this way, it's filthy and disgusting, Yet you love it.

Author's Note: Aaaaaaa omg thank you for reading my works, we're so close on 300 flowers!! I'm so touched for having such kind and loving readers like y'all:(( I'm going to keep publishing my works for y'all! More updates soon! Thank you!🖤🥺

[heavenlymorals]

Biblical References in Both RDR games.

I love biblical references so much. When it comes to literature, it's probably my favorite type of symbolism. Like I genuinely get so happy when I connect things to the Bible which is what I'm going to do right now 😊😊 I also like the way that religion is incorporated into RDR as a whole, including the main characters' reaction to it.

So yup, here are just a few references or connections that I was able to make in no particular order.

Also, some of these are complete reaches and I'm aware of that, but fuck it, it's my blog and I do what I want 💪🏼

- The character and tragedy of Issac. In the Bible, Issac is the child of Abraham who is asked to be sacrificed by God by his father as a test of faith. God eventually intervenes to save Issac because he only wanted to test Abraham's faith. Dutch is shown as a God-like figure to the gang, as their devotion is to him. Arthur, indirectly, sacrifices Issac by not being there and by following what Dutch wanted. Arthur, Issac, and Dutch are parallels to Abraham, Issac, and God.

- Leviticus is the book that comes after the book of Exodus. After the gang's escape or exodus from Blackwater after the Blackwater massacre, they are met by Leviticus Cornwall, who becomes the next obstacle for the gang. After the gang's exodus, they get in trouble with Leviticus.

- The image of the deer and a mountain. Psalm 18:32-34 in the Bible says, "It is God who arms me with strength, and makes my way blameless? He makes my feet like deers' feet, and sets me upon my high places." In Arthur's condemnation of Dutch, Micah, and their evil, he becomes steady in his identity and beliefs, like a deer's feet on a mountain, which is where he dies in the end. W symbolism.

- The mission "Sodom? Back to Gomorrah." In the Bible, Sodom and Gomorrah were two cities that were so morally depraved and evil that God decided to destroy the both of them, saying that if there was even one good person in those cities, he'd spare them, but there weren't. In those missions, you also do two evil acts, going from one and then BACK to the other. You rob the bank and then go BACK to collect the debt from Edith Downes. So you finish one evil deed and to straight to the next. This can also show how morally bankrupt Arthur's apathy made him at this point in the game.

- Micah's guns say "Vengeance is hereby mine." This could be a reference to Roman's 12:19 "vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord." Micah's violent nature makes him take his anger out on the world.

- "Your father is seduced by him with the forked tongue. It's no use hoping." The blind prophet to Arthur. Pretty straight forward symbolism, it's a nod to the snake that seduced Eve, just like how Micah manipulates Dutch.

- Dutch walking away from Arthur when he dies and though he realizes his wrong doing and feels shame, his pride forbids him from apologizing or saying he was wrong. This can be a parallel to how Adam and Eve run away from God when they feel shame over believing in the snake, but their pride won't allow them to apologize to God, hence damning them like how Micah damned Dutch.

- There were twelve ACTIVE gang members before the Blackwater massacre. When I mean active, I mean gang members who are canonically consistent (so not uncle, Swanson, Strauss, or the girls) on going on jobs for the gang. Micah, Bill, Javier, John, Hosea, Arthur, Charles, Sean, Lenny, Josiah, Mac and Davey Callender. Christ had 12 disciples and Dutch is portrayed as a savior to the gang, or a Christ like figure. And would you look at that, there is a traitor in both groups of twelve (Micah and Judas).

- Both John and Arthur's graves have scripture from Jesus's sermon on the mountain (Matthew 5:1-12). John's is blessed are the peacemakers and Arthur's is blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.

- The go back for the money ending. If you go back for the money and have low honor, you'll see that the camp is engulfed in flames as you try to get the money. The fight with Micah is brutal and you die faced down in the dark. This death is an allegory for going to either hell and purgatory as you choose a final evil act of leaving your brother to possibly die just so you can get money as an act of revenge. If you have high honor, you are still surrounded by flames, but you still have a chance at heaven given that you die facing up seeing the light one final time.

- The help John ending has similar connotations. If you have low honor, you die by gunshot and are shrouded in darkness, which can symbolize the absence of God's light and how Arthur's final act couldn't absolve the lack of guilt he feels for the rest of the actions that he KNOWS are evil (click here for a my interpretation of Arthur's morality). In high honor, though, you get to crawl to the mountain side and see the rising sun, symbolizing heaven, warmth, and a new purity.

- In low honor, the coyote goes down to a dark cave, representing damnation and the rejection of holy light. In high honor, the deer steps into a heavenly field of light. Love that so much to be honest.

- Just the very Catholic vibe of Arthur's redemption. Doing good deeds, feeling guilt, all that.

- John's new life is basically this: "Let him who stole steal no longer, but rather let him labor, working with his hands what is good, that he may have something to give him who has need." -Ephesians 4:28. John gives up his old life to be an honest laborer, a rancher, and a proper man.

- The Strange Man in RDR rides on a donkey, which is pretty interesting because Jesus Christ also made his grand entry on a donkey.

- Just the Strange Man in general to be honest. Some say he's God, others say he's the Devil, and others say he's Cain from the Bible, which is my personal favorite theory but whatever.

- Dutch's horse could be a reference to Revelations 6:8- "And I looked, and behold, a pale horse! And its rider's name was Death, and Hades followed him." Dutch's rash actions caused the death of the gang and RDR's incarnate of Hades or Hell was Micah, following him. Dutch is the only one, canonically, to have a pale horse.

- "Am I prepared for eternal damnation? Am I passed any kind of saving? Or is that just fairy tales?" Arthur in his journal. I love this line so much because of its very agnostic nature whilst still showing the Christian mindset of 1899 America. This line also shows that Arthur is canonically agnostic which is a yippee from me because it's like the only thing me and this man have in common lmao 😭

- "Bad news awaits you, sir. Sadly, sooner than you think. But beyond the news, paradise awaits. Paradise.." Blind Man Cassidy to Arthur. Sorry but I just love that. High honor Arthur lived such an awful life but he still has a chance at paradise and heaven? Love that so much.

- God (pun intended), I love biblical symbolism. Couldn't you tell?

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Marriage of Convenience Chapter 1

Summary:  Y/N’s father is gone, and he leaves it all to her.  But in 1880s Oregon, she can’t own land without a husband.  Under the threat of it all being taken away by a land hungry Sheriff, what’s a girl to do with no prospects?  Maybe one of the cowboys on the farm can help…

Here's chapter 1 of the new cowboy!Bucky story! I hope y'all like it (see what I did there?).

Warnings: smut, slight physical violence

Next chapter

Her father died on a rainy Tuesday morning.  She was suddenly alone in the world, the last of her family line.  Well, not completely alone.  There were 9 men on the farm that worked for her father, and now worked for her.  The problem was that this was 1880 in the state of Oregon, and therefore her inheriting and owning the land and being able to pay the men was now up for question.

After they buried him under his favorite Juniper tree amongst the others that lined their property, they all gathered together for a family meeting.

“Mis amores (my loves), thank you for your help today in Papa’s burial,” Y/N began, standing at the head of the long dining table in the main house.  The men were stationed in their usual spots, each of them in a state of sadness over the loss.  “I’d like to read his will, if you’ll let me,” she sighed, opening the folded piece of parchment.  

“Mi familia, thank you for all you have done to make this farm a livable and prosperous place on this side of the country.  I’m not a man of many words,” a rumble of laughter spread across the table, “so I won’t waste everyone’s time.  To my daughter, Y/N, I leave most of my money, the land and the main house to do with as she pleases,” Y/N sniffled as she tried to not let herself cry anymore.  One of the men, Bucky, sitting next to her, reached his hand out and rubbed her arm in comfort.  “To Bucky,” she gave him a quick smile and a glance, “I leave my most prized guns.  Y/N knows where they are.  Please keep the farm and my baby safe as you always have,” Bucky squeezed her arm.  “To Jorge, Pedro, and Oscar, I leave my horses Beauty, Wind Dixie and Tramp to do with as they please.  To Joaquin, I leave my Bible and my best hunting knife.  To Diego, Santiago, and Emiliano, I leave the oat field further down south as well as the pear tree farm so that they can have land to bring their family to from Guadalajara.”  The three brothers burst into tears at the generous gift, giving each other hugs then standing and giving Y/N hugs as well before sitting back down.  “To Luis,” Y/N paused as she held her hand out to the man who was like a second father to her on her other side, which he quickly took.  “I leave my cigars and my finest liquor, and thank him for introducing me to tequila all those years ago.  I also leave a collection of my books that have been sectioned off for you in the study.  I hope as Y/N teaches you how to read more that you will find great education and adventure in them.  For all the men, I have created stipend accounts in each of your names with the rest of my money.  You are free to empty them and leave, but I hope you will keep them and stay to help Y/N with the farm or at least until she can replace you.  The account should last you for most of the rest of your lives.  Thank you for your service, for your kindness, for your grace, for your compassion and your love to me and Y/N.  You are greatly loved and I will miss you all dearly.  Yours, Frank.”

Y/N didn’t read the next page out loud because it was just for her to read, which she had done earlier in private, and sat down as she finished reading.  She felt exhausted.  “I understand that in Oregon I do not actually have ownership over my father’s money, land, or the house unless I am married.  Therefore, I am asking something of you all that is wildly strange, but since I have no prospects, I am at a loss.  Would anyone of you, of course for the exception of those married or leaving for Mexico,” she winked at the brothers, “be willing to marry me?”

The men all stared at her with wide eyes.  

“Mija, you can’t be serious?” Luis scoffed.

“I’m deadly serious, Luis,” Y/N said.  “Unless I marry quickly, the local authorities will come down and take it all.  I’ve already been threatened by Sheriff Pierce.”

“What?  When did this happen?” Bucky piped up, his eyebrows furrowing.

“A few weeks ago, when Papa’s health declined suddenly and I went to get the doctor in town,” she sighed, remembering that horrible day.  “He made it very clear where he stands with women having rights around here and how he would love to take this land for his own.  He implied he would force me to marry him or lose everything,” she shuddered.

All the men suddenly were in a ruckus, yelling and swearing about the sheriff and inheritances and the law.  Bucky sat quietly as he thought over the situation, then watched Y/N carefully.  She let the others have their moment of upset.  She sat rigid in her chair, the picture of poise and propriety, the opposite of how she normally would be.  Obviously the entire predicament she found herself in was weighing heavily on her and she didn’t know how else to handle it than to put on a brave face and act like the lady her father always chastised her about being, rather than the farmer she turned out to be.

“Callate!” Luis suddenly yelled, overpowering the others.  They all quickly sat and calmed down.  “Y/N,” he turned to her.  He reached for her hand again, which she gladly gave.  “Are you sure there are no other options?  Anything in the law that could help?”

“I have no options,” Y/N said drearily, her eyes blinking rapidly so as not to let anymore tears fall.  “I am a woman.  What I want doesn’t matter.”

Luis held her hand in both of his, his sad eyes staring at their conjoined hands and nodding his head in understanding.  There were a few moments of silence and then…

“I’ll do it,” Bucky spoke.  Y/N’s head whipped back to him, her eyes wide and her mouth dropping open slightly.  “I’ll do it,” he leaned forward as he looked at her.  “I promised your father to always keep you and this land safe, so that’s what I’ll do.  We’ve all worked too hard and come too far to lose it all now,” the men all agreed.  “And you deserve a better marriage than to an old, awful man like Pierce,” he added.  “I can’t say I’m the perfect man by any means,” Bucky held his hand out to take her other hand, “but I will try to be the best husband, partner, and friend that I can be.”

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears again, this time she let them fall as she squeezed his hand.  “Thank you,” she whispered.

“This is strange, but I think it’s the best option we have,” Luis agreed, making the others agree as well. 

Y/N grinned, freeing her hands from Luis and Bucky’s grasps to wipe her eyes.  “It’s settled then.  Bucky, we will go into town tomorrow and get that done and make sure everything is in your name before Pierce finds out Papa has passed,” Bucky nodded.  “As for the rest of you, let’s divide up your inheritances.”

As the day wore on and each man got his gift all that was left was Bucky.  He had been patrolling the perimeter as he normally did, helping with the animals when needed, and upon hearing the bell rode back in for dinner.  Y/N had laid out a spread for the men, a glass of her father’s favorite whiskey at each place setting in his honor.  When they had sat, said grace, and began to eat Y/N had let Bucky finish before pulling him aside.

She led him to her father’s study and closed the door behind them then walked to the wall that had his guns displayed.  “Buck,” she motioned to him to join her.  He walked to the wall, admiring all the different kinds of rifles and handguns he had.  “He wanted you to have these,” she gestured towards the rack along the left side of the display.

“All of these?” he asked incredulously.  “What am I gonna do with this many?”

Y/N laughed, “I don’t know.  Collect them, sell them, I don’t really care.  But he did want you to have something else of a more personal nature,” she walked over to one of the bookshelves, her fingers running along a stack until she found the title she wanted.  She pulled it off the shelf and brought it back to him.  Bucky eyed the book, not recognizing the title.  Y/N opened it, and he saw that it was actually a box made to look like a book to keep treasures safe.  Inside was a woman’s wedding ring, a man’s wedding band and a pocket watch.

“The second page of the will was mostly for me, with a few extra pieces for you,” she said quietly.  “These were my mother’s and father’s rings,” she explained.  “In the will he said how he always considered you to be the son he never got to have.”

Bucky felt a lump in his throat form at her words, his eyes suddenly feeling hot with unshed tears.  He gulped to try and relieve the ache in his chest as he watched Y/N pull the pocket watch out.

“This is for you,” she handed it to him gingerly.  “It’s made of the finest silver and gold that could be found along the East coast at the time when he purchased it.  He wanted you to have it to do with as you please.  He also said that the man to marry me would have his ring, and I would have my mother’s.”  She pulled the man’s wedding band out and held it out to him.  “I know that this is a marriage of convenience, that we may love each other in a sense, but that falling in love may take some time.  I just hope that we can create a happy marriage and maybe someday a happy family together, and work together to keep this land and our familia together as well.”

Bucky smiled softly at her.  You silly woman, he thought.  He had been in love with her for years at this point, almost from the moment he’d first set foot on the farm when her father first hired him as security.  He was a little bit older than her, so he just assumed anything like that would never happen.  But being out in these Oregon forests and farmlands far away from other towns made it hard to find someone worthwhile to court or marry.  Now he had a chance to love her, though he’d still have to be patient for her to catch up to him and his feelings.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said, taking the ring and trying it on his left ring finger.  “Ah, it fits,” he said gleefully.  

“Oh good, I was worried,” Y/N giggled as she admired the ring on his hand.

“You should try yours,” he suggested, reaching for the ring in the box.  She let him take it out then held out her left hand to him.  He slid the ring onto her ring finger easily.  “Perfect fit,” he smiled, watching her.  Y/N gazed at her mother’s ring on her finger, the diamond shining in the firelight.  “Beautiful,” he breathed.

Y/N smiled and then looked back at him.  “Thank you, Bucky, for agreeing to this.  I know I’m no great beauty but–”

“What?” he asked incredulously.  Y/N looked shocked at his outburst.  “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

“Oh, well…” she sputtered, unsure of what to say.  “I mean, I’m not ugly, I just–”

“Y/N, you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Bucky said so seriously it made her heart flip.  “Don’t ever think of yourself as anything less.  Yes I agreed to marry you because it will help keep the farm in your family, and keep us employed, but I also did it because I think you’re amazing, beautiful, kind, determined, and if I ever got the privilege to be married I would want it to be with you.”  Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding at his admission.  “I am honored to be your husband, do you understand me?”

Y/N nodded, her shock still evident on her face.  “I understand.”

“Good,” Bucky said with finality.  

They stared at each other, both of them realizing just how close they’d gotten during the conversation.  Y/N cleared her throat and took a subtle step back.  “Well, um…thank you, again,” she mumbled.  “I’m not very good with my words, but I hope you know that if I have to get married, I’m happy that it’s with you.”

Bucky smirked at her awkwardness.  “Well, I guess I’d better head out then.  Gotta get some sleep, it’s my wedding day tomorrow,” he said wryly.

Y/N snorted at his tone.  “Yes, I suppose I should get some rest as well.  It just so happens to be my wedding day tomorrow.”

Bucky hummed, deciding to try his luck and taking a step towards her.  “Does the groom-to-be get to have a goodnight kiss?”  

Y/N gave him a wide-eyed look as she fought a smile on her lips.  “Isn’t there some kind of bad luck for doing things with the bride-to-be the night before her wedding?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” he stepped closer, making her back up against the desk.

Y/N craned her neck as she stared up at him.  “I’ve never, um…kissed anyone before,” she breathed.

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Bucky leaned his face closer, nuzzling his nose against her nose.

“Sweetheart?” Y/N questioned him, her hands catching herself against the desk before she lost her balance.

“Can I kiss you…sweetheart?” Bucky ghosted his nose along her cheek.  “Just to hold me over til tomorrow?”

Y/N huffed a laugh against his cheek.  “O-okay,” she stuttered.

Bucky smirked at her again, her nervousness making him feel a strange sense of excitement.  His lips skimmed her cheek until he hovered over her mouth.  Y/N’s eyes were darting from his lips to his eyes and back, her breathing becoming heavier.  Bucky finally pressed his lips against hers gently.  He didn’t push for anything further, keeping his hands to himself, just enjoying the moment that he finally got to do what he had always wanted to do with her.  Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut when his lips met hers, her lips moving softly against his after a moment of her freezing in place.  Bucky pulled away first, still hovering close to her face as her eyes slowly opened.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered, giving her nose a quick peck before he backed away.

Y/N was still holding herself up against the desk, staring at him in disbelief.  “Goodnight, Bucky.”

Bucky smirked at her again then nodded his head as he walked away and out of the study.  He had to get the horses prepped and the wagon ready for tomorrow, then get washed up.  It was his wedding day, after all.

**picture is from Pinterest, A.I. generated, so no known "artist" or "creator"**

[l3tm31nn0w]

New Year’s Date

Mr. Reed x Fem!Reader

You own a rare book store and find yourself bored out of your mind on New Year’s Eve. Your favorite customer, an older British gentleman, comes to your rescue.

(Age gap, p in v sex, oral (m and f receiving), dirty talk, fingering)

You were starting to regret even bothering to open the store on New Year’s Eve. It was 4pm and you’d had a grand total of two customers, after all who in their right mind wanted to sift through obscure books when they could be pre-gaming. It seemed every single friend of yours had evacuated Boulder for a sunnier destination to ring in the new year so your choices were to spend the entire day alone in your apartment or at least attempt to make a few sales at the store. You’d done well leading up to Christmas and really didn’t need the money, but being surrounded by all the books made you feel a little cozier.

The clock teetered forward to 6pm and with not a single soul walking through the door since about 2pm you were ready to just close early and give up. As you started tidying up in the back you heard the faint ding of the front door bell. Walking quickly to the front, almost pathetically desperate for any sort of small talk, a smile grew across your face as you saw who had decided to come in. It was your favorite regular, Mr. Reed. He was an intelligent older gentleman who had a knack for religious history and analysis, often coming in asking you to special order books just for him. He had started coming into your store probably 2 years ago at this point and you shared his agnosticism and fascination with religion so you were always excited to show him something from your own personal stash. You were mostly interested in early Christian history, but he seemed to know everything and you hung on his every word, eager to learn something new.

His patronage had blossomed into somewhat of a friendship, though you never saw him outside the store despite his gentle suggestions of grabbing dinner or seeing a museum exhibit together. It wasn’t that you didn’t think you’d have a good time, you were worried you may act impulsively and embarrass yourself, ruining a professional and important friendship. He was handsome, almost devastatingly so, with a smile that made you swoon and greying tousled locks. His voice would sometimes cause your temperature rise, leading you to imagine that posh British accent whispering less than savory things in your ear.

You had harbored this crush for a good year at this point, but your nerves always stopped you from pursuing anything. After all he was a good 30 years your senior, not that it really bothered you. There was a reason you found yourself single, the men your age were annoying and immature even as you neared your 30s. The age gap clearly did not deter Mr. Reed because he flirted with you relentlessly. Somehow he managed to completely avoid being a creepy old pervert, he was simply that charming. He’d make sly comments comparing you to certain daring female Bible characters or remind you how brilliant he found you. It was almost innocent if you ignored the mischievous glint in his eye whenever he delivered his praise.

“My favorite customer!” You exclaimed. You walked around the front desk and gave him a hug. “Hello darling!” “What brings you in today Mr. Reed?” “Well I had to come throw money at my favorite establishment in Boulder before the year ended! Got anything new for me?” You shuffled around behind the front desk and pulled out a book on early Christian saints you’d special ordered for him. “I heard about this one and thought I could school you for once. It’s got all the early greats from before the Middle Ages.” He beamed at the book. “Oh darling this is perfect! What do I owe you?” You smiled and pushed the book forward. “It’s a Christmas gift for my favorite customer and dear friend. No charge.” “Darling you’re too good to me! Thank you!” He leaned forward and pecked you on the cheek, instantly causing your face to run red. “I haven’t gotten you a gift, I’m awful!” “Oh Mr. Reed you don’t need to get me anything. Your presence is present enough, the store has been dead today. I was about to close up shop and then you waltzed in!” He flashed one of his thousand dollar smiles at you. “A pretty young thing like you must have exciting plans for New Year’s Eve you have to scoot off to?” He asked. You laughed at this suggestion. “God no, all my friends are out of town and I’m not really a party girl anyway. I’ll probably grab takeout and watch a movie before going to bed early. What about you? Handsome learned British men like yourself must have posh dinner parties to attend?” You teased back. “My night sounds shockingly close to yours except I was going to cook some pasta and read instead of takeout and a film.”

Perhaps it was the dullness of your New Year’s Eve this far or some strange desire to end the year on a high note that lead you to stammer out the next sentence: “Would you like some company?” His eyes actually widened in shock at this statement which caused you to panic and back peddle. “Oh god sorry! That’s so silly of me even suggest I’m sure you want a nice quiet evening to yourself forget I said-“ “Darling” he cut you off. “It would be an honor to share New Year’s Eve with you. Forgive my reaction, it’s just that I’ve been not so subtly asking you to spend time with me outside this bookstore for a good several months to no avail and now you’re inviting yourself to my house. Why the sudden change?” You smiled bashfully. “Well to be completely honest Mr. Reed, when you walked in I realized that there’s no person in the world I’d be more excited to see walk through those doors than you. I feel that way every time I see you, so who better to spend a holiday with?” He grabbed your hand gently and adjusted his glasses. “You’ve made an old man’s entire year.”

You closed up the shop and began the trek to Mr. Reed’s house. You knew he lived within walking distance of the shop, but had no clue what house was his. “Here we are!” He said as he opened up a metal gate leading to a darling house. He fiddled with the front door for a moment before you heard a loud click and the door opened. “Ladies first.” He said motioning for you to enter the house. “Oh your house is lovely!” “Thank you darling, I won’t lie to you as sinful as it is I do take pride in this old place.” He replied with a wink. He lead you into the kitchen where he began preparing a penne bolognese while you watched on.

It felt shockingly natural to be around him in such a domestic nature and you were slightly kicking yourself for holding out so long. Dinner was finally served and he walked you over to his modest dining room table, pulling out your chair for you like a gentleman. “Wine?” He offered. “Water.” You said back with a grin. “I don’t drink Mr. Reed, sorry I should’ve warned you of that one. You’re going to have sober company for New Year’s Eve.” You were worried this would offend him as your sobriety often made people uncomfortable in these situations, but he just flashed one of his devastatingly handsome smiles. “Not a problem darling, if you’re not imbibing I think I’ll refrain myself. Your company is plenty to keep me entertained. However let’s indulge elsewhere shall we?” He voice lowered when he said indulge and as he walked away you found his words had travelled straight to your core. It was becoming increasingly obvious to you that you were probably, at the minimum, going to make out with your old man friend before the night was over.

Thankfully for you he returned with two sodas, the indulgence a little more PG than your brain had been anticipating. “A coca-cola for the lady.” He said setting it down in front of you. “Oh you are bad Mr. Reed!” Playing along with his over exaggerated build up of the soda. “My nice old man veneer is chipping away I fear.” He said faking a frown. He sat down and began eating and you continued to tease him. “No grace Mr. Reed? What sort of heathen home have you brought me to?” “Oh goodness where are my manners, thank you Lucifer for guiding my hand while making this penne and convincing this knockout to sit at my table. Amen!” At this point you were convinced the blush on your cheeks was permanent. The two of you ate and chatted away, his cooking was to die for and you were really growing mad at yourself from depriving yourself of his company outside of the shop.

After dinner you helped him clean up and found yourself purposely brushing your fingers against his as he handed you dishes to dry. “Can I show you my little home church?” He asked as he poured you an after dinner tea. “Oh gosh the infamous Reed Chapel you’ve spoken about! I have to see where all the books you’ve bought off of me live.” He took your hand and guided you further into this house to his office. It was incredible, a room decorated with religious artifacts in every corner and enough books to rival your store.

“My god Mr. Reed this is incredible! I could lose hours in here!” “Feel free darling.” He cooed as he walked over to the record player. Seconds later “Air That I Breathe” by The Hollies wafted through the air. “Of course you have good music taste too. Stop being perfect!” You drifted away from the tapestry you’d been looking at intently and began swaying to the music. Even without looking directly at him you could feel his eyes on you, which is right where you wanted them. The more the evening went on the more you wanted to make up for all the lost time you’d spent tucked behind the book shop desk instead of tucked in his bed.

“Care if I join you?” He asked, holding out a hand. You took it and he twirled you around before pulling you tight to his chest. The two of you swayed to the music and you found your head resting on his chest as if it belonged there. The record ended, but you didn’t pull away. Instead you looked up and saw he had a hungry gaze hiding behind his glasses. It was now or never, you thought, before closing the distance and kissing him.

He responded eagerly, gripping you by the back of your head and slightly tugging your hair. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and a stifled moan reverberated from his throat. You backed him against one of his bookcases and broke the kiss, trailing your mouth down to his neck where you started to mark him with a hickey.

“Oh pet I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve dreamed of it.” He groaned out. You removed your mouth from his neck with a pop and grabbed him by his hair, pulling him to stare directly at you. “Tell me what you dreamed about Mr. Reed, in detail.” He flashed a wicked smile at you, clearly turned on by your questioning. “Well it started innocently enough pet, I just thought you were a pretty little thing who ran a bookstore. Then I realized just how smart you were. The more I came around the shop the more intoxicating you became. I would go home after visiting your shop and sit down on these pews in here and pull my cock out and stroke it while I imagined you on your knees sucking it behind your little bookshop counter in full view of any customer who could walk in. I imagined pushing you against the table in the back where you keep all my special orders and fucking you from behind, coming inside you and letting my seed drip down you for the rest of your work day. I never dreamed you’d end up here in my house pet. I thought I was just a dirty old man who jacked off to the pretty girl who was nice to him because she was paid to do so.”

His words alone had you soaked through your panties and tights, but you couldn’t let him take control of the situation that easily. “Well I wouldn’t say you’re not a dirty old man, but I can reassure you that you weren’t the only one fantasizing.” His eyes widened and he chewed on his lip. “Oh darling come on don’t leave me hanging here. Tell your dirty old man what thoughts you have hidden in your pretty little head.”

You brought your mouth to his ear and began whispering your secrets. “I’ve wanted you for months Mr. Reed. After you’d leave the store and I’d lock up for the night I’d take any books I intended to sell to you upstairs to my apartment and touch myself while I leafed through them.” His breath hitched. “What was going through your pretty little head while you did that pet?” “I imagined sitting on the counter with you on your knees eating me out. I imagined you fucking me against the book cases. I always pictured the normal age gap stuff, me calling you daddy and you calling me a good girl. What do you think daddy? Am I a good girl?”

You could swear your dirty talk almost had him flustered and you were getting very turned on by your slight domination. The two of you had only been doing heavy petting so far but you could tell the entire evening was going to be a power struggle between the two of you. “Mmm good girls don’t push their lovers against the wall and start marking them, but maybe I like that you’re a bad girl?” You placed a kiss on his hickey and he hummed happily in response. “But darling if you be my good girl I’ll make you feel things you didn’t know were possible. You’re a clever little minx, but I think it’s time you let your dirty old man show you what heaven can really feel like hm?”

Suddenly the power struggle was over. You were putty in his arms, your dominating nature completely evaporated. You were never one to be submissive, but Mr. Reed had an almost intoxicating effect on you. He made you want to shut your brain off and do anything and everything possible to receive whatever bliss he had in store for you. His words hit you so hard all you could do was nod vigorously. “What’s that pet? I need you to use your words. I know I’m quite a bit older here but you are still a big girl are you not?” You blushed red and whispered “I’ll be your good girl. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

“Take off your clothes pet. Want me to help?” You nodded and he began by lifting up your sweater. “A sheer brassiere, and you claimed you had no plans this evening hm? Did some poor young Schmuck get stood up because you wanted to get shagged by an old man?” You nodded your head no in response. “Only you Mr. Reed. I haven’t been able to date anyone since you started clouding my mind. It was all I had clean, I guess you just got lucky.” He pinched one of your nipples through your bra and you cried out. “Sensitive are we? I guess that’s the next article of clothing to go then.” He unsnapped your bra and pulled it off of you leaving your chest bare, the cold air causing your nipples to harden. He grabbed your breasts in each hand eliciting a moan from you. “All worked up already are we?” He teased. “Come now, let me finish opening my real Christmas present. I know that book was just for show.”

You let him slide off your skirt and tights leaving you in just your black lace underwear. “Oh there’s even a bow on here, how perfect.” He said, snapping the front waistband against you. He slid them down your legs and you were finally bare before him. “Now,” he said with a clap. “I’m going to ask you to sit on one of these pews and I’m going to read from that book you gave to me today and you’re going to touch yourself. Sound like a plan?”

He guided you towards one of the front pews and say you down, retreating behind his desk and assuming an almost priestly position. He began reading from your gift, all stories you knew like the back of your hand, but hearing them in his voice sent shockwaves through you. He clearly knew his voice had this effect or he wouldn’t have bothered with this in the first place. You began rubbing your clit and focusing on his words, but try as you may there was little satisfaction coming from your own hands. You needed him.

Unbeknownst to you, you’d been making frustrated little moans and they were distracting enough that he stopped and sat down next to you, bringing your head to his chest and stroking your hair. “What is it pet? What’s the matter?” You hid your face in his cardigan out of embarrassment and whispered back “I need you. Please! I need you to touch me.” He chuckled softly and placed a kiss on your head. “You asked so politely sweet girl, how could I deny you?” His hand snaked down your body and parted your folds, his finger stroking your clit at a slow, hard pace.

You kept your head buried in his chest and began moaning. “Is that good pet? Use your words.” He teasing was tortuous, but you obliged. “Feels so good Mr. Reed, I needed this, needed you.” With that verbal encouragement he slipped a finger inside you and you gasped. You were so starved for touch you began bucking against his finger, desperate for more. “You’re a needy little thing aren’t you? Remember when you were playing pretend back there shoving me against a book case as if you’d ever be the dominant one in this situation. It was cute pet, but we both know you’re my sweet little submissive doll.” You nodded hungrily, anything to keep him going.

He removed his hand from your sex and you whined. “Don’t worry pet you’re going to like this even more. I’m wanting some dessert and I think you’ll be providing it.” He slid onto his knees before you and scooted your ass to the very edge of the pew. He began by kissing your inner thighs, slowly working toward your core. “Goodness darling you’re absolutely soaked from just a bit of heavy petting, you really are my girl aren’t you? So eager for me?” You nodded, his words were true. He hadn’t even fucked you properly yet and you already knew you’d never find a lover to satisfy you the way he could. “Such a good girl all wet and ready for me. Good girls deserve a reward don’t you think?” Before you could answer his tongue was on you, licking from your entrance to your clit. You cried out, the pleasure almost too much. “More please Mr. Reed I’ll do anything please more!” He began attacking your clit with his tongue, alternating that with harsh kisses and nips that had your head swimming. You were nearly screaming at this point, the pleasure building in a way you hadn’t felt in ages. As he continued to eat you out you felt two fingers enter you, the fullness enough to send you over the edge. You gripped his hair and screamed out as your cunt flooded his face with your release.

After a moment he brought himself back up to you in the pew and held you. “Such a good girl cumming for me. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to make you cum again pet, the sounds you make are far too heavenly to keep inside you.” You were almost delirious from the orgasm and you clung to him as if your life depended on it. “Pet can I move you to my bedroom? These old wooden pews aren’t exactly comfortable for a lady recovering from all of that.” You giggled and nodded, allowing him to guide you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, a plush king size monstrosity that already felt like home the second you climbed in.

He went to lay down next to you but you stopped him. “Take your clothes off please. I promise you’re still the big dominant if you’re naked. I just want to feel your skin against mine. Please.” You pleaded your case with doe eyes and he couldn’t resist you. “Ok pet, but don’t be disappointed, I am in my 60s.” It was strange to see a shy or embarrassed side of him, he was always so confident. As he removed his clothes you were shocked at his shyness because you found his body exquisite. He was lean for a man of his age with slightly muscular arms. Your eyes immediately went to the silver happy trail that disappeared in his boxers. He finally slid the boxers off and you saw your prize. His cock was larger than you’d anticipated and it made your mouth water.

“Oh Mr. Reed how could I ever be disappointed, you’re perfect. Every inch of you is perfect.” You held out your arms and he joined you in bed, his head resting on your naked breast. You laid there for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of each other. Your thoughts quickly drifted to his cock and how exquisite it would feel inside you. You snaked your fingers through his hair and tugged gently, a silent signal you were ready for more. He reacted by sucking on one of your nipples, the sensation going right to your sopping pussy.

You pulled his head away from your chest and he frowned. “Did I hurt you pet?” He asked, genuine concern in his voice. “No no no it felt divine. But I want to give you the attention you deserve.” You pushed him against the headboard in a sitting position and began kissing at his neck, revisiting the hickey mark you’d left early. Then you began trailing down his chest with kisses until you reached that silver happy trail. You grabbed his length in your hand, giving it a few gentle pumps that caused him to let out a sigh. You took him in your mouth and he immediately gripped your hair.

He moaned out all manner of praise at you as you continued to suck his cock, but you were surprised when he released your hair and began pulling you forward. He laid you down and began kissing you fervently. “I cant wait any longer pet I have to fuck you.” You kissed him as if your life depended on it and you felt him slide slowly into your entrance. He was big and you hadn’t had sex in some time, but the foreplay was so decadent he was inside you with ease. He fucked you slowly and sensually and all you could do was grip his back and moan. “You’re even better than I ever imagined darling, fuck! So wet and so tight, just for me, for your dirty old man.” “I’m yours, all yours!” You cried out. He began to pick up his pace and simultaneously brought his finger to your clit, bringing you dangerously close to your second orgasm. “I’m not gonna last much longer pet, where do you want me?” You gripped his shoulders hard and panted out “Inside, I’m on the pill we’re good.” He grinned at your answer and quickened his pace on your clit, sending you over the edge once more. Your pulsating cunt then managed to send him over the edge and he came hard inside you.

He lay on top of you, panting, with his dick still nestled in your folds. You wiped sweat from his brow and kissed his head. “You ok old man?” You asked softly. He finally pulled out of you and sat up so that you could lay on him instead. “Oh never better pet, don’t worry I’m not quite at the age where one good shag will give me a heart attack.” You giggled at this and then he checked the clock on his bedside table. “Well darling it seems we gave each other a bit more than a kiss to ring in the new year, it’s 12:11.” “I can’t think of a better way to start the year off. I hope we can make a habit of it this year?” He squeezed you in his arms. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me pet, I know where you work so don’t get any ideas about running away.”

You fell asleep in his arms as he lay awake, his sinful pride beaming at finally gaining control over his reluctant bookish prize.

[cicobuffs]

Hiii!! I’m the anon that sent the apocalypse ask with ‘no time like the apocalypse’ and also the first purity ring one BUT ANYWAYS… thinking about preachers daughter!reader sneaking patrick into her room through her window rather than her sneaking out (it’s a Saturday so she has church the next day) and she tells him they’re not going to fuck just cuddle but… of course they end up fucking, and they have to be quiet because they’re in her house and her family’s asleep and he’s kind of chuckling to himself because she has a cross hung up over her bed and a Bible and little prayer books on her bedside table meanwhile she’s doing this with him

Sincerely, anon who will one day reveal themselves when they work up the courage <3 💀

HIII!!!! omg anon u are my favorite forever likeeee,

he is soooo ungraceful coming in through the window like i just know it and you're scolding him saying that he's gonna wake up the whole house between muffled giggles. he's looking around your room, how your bed is perfectly made with pretty white bed-sheets with intricate little designs of flowers on it, a wooden cross above your bed and another cross made from straw above your door, a wooden vanity with a bunch of photos and trinkets strewn about, and a tiny, tiny, box tv in the corner that you were telling him about a couple weeks ago because you were so excited to get it.

he locks back into you and looks at the little pajama shorts and cami that you're in and he pulls you into him by your hips and latches onto your neck. you're bashfully pushing him away saying, "not tonight," because you really cannot risk one of your parents coming in and catching the two of you and he grumbles out a, "fine" when you take his hand to lead him to your bed and offer to cuddle instead.

and it's honestly innocent in the beginning. your back is to his chest and he has an arm slung over your middle: the two of just having absentminded conversation about your days and he's asking about the little details in your room that kinda make you you. you're wiggling your hips, backing up into him and you honestly didn't mean to in an advertently sexual way at first but you can feel him start to grow half-hard in his pants and you decide you want to fuck with him.

it leads to him having a hand in your pants, fingers reaching into your entrance and curling as you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your whines and moans in the silence of the rest of your house.

^^ some inspo pics bc i am a big fan of personalized bedrooms (i will probably make it in the sims lets be fr)

[everytimewetouch-dot-mp3]

Okay WHAT is Oh look it's Gilgamesh

wip game post here!

oooouuugh yay ok i was hoping someone would ask about this one. it’s a modern au binggeyuan inspired by this post i made a billion years ago.

i’m in the exploratory phase of this one too, but i’ve been putting a lot more work into it lately bc it has become my 2025 writing goal lmao. i’ll talk abt it under the cut :D

…so i just finished writing and it’s a little longer than i anticipated. tl;dr: what if satan from the actual literal bible crawled out of hell and told the pope that he wanted to be friends now because there’s something much worse than himself down there.

so the idea is that luo binghe is a mythological figure somewhat like gilgamesh or odysseus but ‘evil.’ he’s a heavenly demon who, after countless cruelties, decided to take his revenge on the world by inflicting that cruelty a thousandfold. the stories go that he was born in a bid to broker peace between the demons and the humans, but huan hua’s palace master tried to sabotage sxy’s pregnancy and wound up killing her. tlj, in his grief, allowed himself to be captured by human cultivators so that he could plot his revenge in peace.

then we get lbh’s life, being cast into the abyss, coming back and taking his revenge. just when he and his father are about to merge the realms, the human cultivators sacrificed themselves to seal him, his father, and the entire demonic realm behind impossibly powerful arrays. the abyss and demon realm have merged, but the human realm is safe. to protect humanity, the few remaining cultivators hid knowledge of the jianghu and the secrets of cultivation, which explains why there are no immortal cultivators anymore.

there are legends and books and movies and operas retelling this story, always celebrating the heroic cultivators who sacrificed their lives for the rest of humanity and vilifying the endless cruelty of the demons. shen yuan has heard these stories since he was a little kid. you know how some kids have their ancient egypt phase? sy had a ‘myths about luo binghe’ phase, and it never ended. when the story starts, he’s a doctoral candidate writing his dissertation reconstructing luo binghe as a real historical person (which he was) and finding the real events that inspired the myths. he’s been officially working on it for five years at this point, but the dude really started when he was like 12. he kind of despises some of the retellings of luo binghe’s story, because they all vilify him with no compassion, and he feels binghe’s story is less a triumph of humanity and more a tragedy on all sides.

there is no retelling he hates more than proud immortal demon way. the author caricaturizes luo binghe and uses his story to sell shitty porn cranked out at an inhuman pace, and shen yuan thinks it’s despicable. he has to read every chapter just so he knows what this piece of shit author is doing to his favorite character. that’s the only reason why.

at one point, shen yuan is interviewing some people associated with the supposed descendants of the four great sects in the legends, and while he’s there, there’s an earthquake. someone rushes in wielding an actual real life sword? a real sword. that’s glowing a little bit? maybe shen yuan got hit on the head… but no that sword is definitely glowing a little bit. and he says ‘the seal has cracked.’

suddenly the stories aren’t stories anymore, and shen yuan doesn’t know how to keep his nose out of things—he wants to be there if/when luo binghe comes out. right now it’s just monsters, and it turns out the so-called cultivators were…real cultivators. and they’re fighting abyssal beasts.

they expect luo binghe to emerge commanding armies of demons and beasts as he demands his revenge on humanity, but instead he fights his way out, a crazed look in his eye, and insists that he’s going to help the cultivators seal the rift. he won’t take no for an answer. he refuses to allow those beasts to destroy humanity.

[ryusuisloveinterest]

I don’t like to read

I know Jason LOVES to read so I see a lot of Jason with an s/o who also likes reading. But what about the girlies who don’t? This honestly isn’t that good but here you go anyways!💗

You dont really like to read, at least novels or big books. Things like graphic novels are fine since you can look at pictures, but there are still occasions you don’t feel like reading those. You tried to get into series like Harry Potter, but your mind just starts wondering off. So, when you see your boyfriend Jason in bed reading a book bigger than the Bible you just stand there puzzled. “What’re you reading?” “War and Peace.” You sit under the covers. “You’re gonna read all of it?” He chuckles. “Yeah?” You really didn’t like reading, but you wanted to give it another try. After all, Jason has tried to do things you like to do that he doesn’t; like watching those annoying reality shows or learning to play tennis so you have an opponent/partner. So you went to the bookstore to see if they had one of his favorite books, Pride and Prejudice. After buying it you went home and began reading. “It is a truth universally acknowledged that…” seriously, this is what he read? This is so boring! And why do classical authors write this way? You keep reading, eyes fluttering, trying to figure out what’s going on. Man how long have you been on this page? You hear the door open. “Hey Princess do we still have earl grey tea? Been craving some all-“ Jason finds you almost asleep on the couch, the book barely in your hand. “Are you…reading Pride and Prejudice?” Your head pops up as you see your boyfriend towering over you, a small yet excited smile on his face. “Oh, yeah. It’s really good. The main girl…what’s her name, Emily?” “Elizabeth.” “Right Elizabeth. She’s like broke and wants a husband then can’t get one cause- um I don’t remember…but! She meets Mr. Darcy’s friend tried to marry her or something and…” Jason sits next to you and brings you close. His muscular arms wrap around you perfectly as if you were puzzle pieces meant to be together. You rest your head in his heart that was beating faster and faster by the second. “Thank you.” He whispers. “For?” “For trying to do this for me. I know you hate reading.” “Hate? Who said that?” “Your sister. And I can see it on your face when you have to read a paper.” You chuckle and blush. “Sorry, I really want to try something you like, especially since you always do so much for me.” With a smile Jason asks, “do you want me to read it to you?” You look up and smile. “I’d like that a lot.” 

[idontmindifuforgetme]

Do you have any poetry recommendations? The poem poll made me realize that I like. ONLY know Iraqi poets. Like the only non-Iraqi poet I can name off the top of my head is Robert Frost

i'm literally hooked on poetry. even on days where i can't sit down to read a book, i try to consume at least one poem a day bc it keeps me sane. it actually does. i recommend signing up to one poem a day newsletters--those have been a game changer for me. as for recommendations, my favorite poems change every week, but current faves (whose authors i regularly go back to/are a good starting point) would be:

elegy for my sadness - chen chen (Who invented the word / “ennui”? A sad Frenchman? / A centipede? They should’ve never / been born. They should’ve seen me / in Paris, a sad teenage / exchange student. I was so sad / & so teenaged, one day my host sister / gripped my hand hard & even harder / said, SOIS HEUREUX. / BE HAPPY. & miraculously, / I wasn’t sad anymore. / All I felt was the desire to slap my host sister. / See, I was angry in Paris, which is clearly / not allowed. One can be sad in Paris (I was) / & one can be in love in Paris (I was not), / but angry? Angry in Paris?")

a pity, we were such a good invention - yehuda amichal ( "A pity / We were such a good / And loving invention / An aeroplane made from a man and wife / Wings and everything / We hovered a little above the earth")

like a small cafe, that's love - mahmoud darwish ("I say to myself at last / Perhaps she who I was waiting for / was waiting for me, or was waiting for some other man / or was waiting for us, and did not find him/me.")

bible study - tony hoagland ("Who knows, this might be the last good night of summer / My broken nose is forming an idea of what’s for supper / Hard to believe that death is just around the corner / What kind of idiot would think he even had a destiny?")

mother and child - louise gluck ("Why do I suffer? Why am I ignorant? / Cells in a great darkness. Some machine made us; / it is your turn to address it, to go back asking / what am I for? What am I for?")

america, america - saadi youssef ("We are not hostages, America, / and your soldiers are not God's soldiers... / We are the poor ones, ours is the earth of the drowned gods, / the gods of bulls, / the gods of fires, / the gods of sorrows that intertwine clay and blood in a song... / We are the poor, ours is the god of the poor, / who emerges out of farmers' ribs, / hungry / and bright, / and raises heads up high...")

the duino elegies (seventh elegy respectively) - rainer maria rilke ("Not only the devotion of these unfolded forces, / not only the paths, not only the evening fields, / not only, after a late storm, the breathing freshness, / not only approaching sleep and a premonition, evenings... / also the nights! Also the high summer nights / also the stars, the stars of this Earth! / O to be dead at last and know them eternally, / all the stars: for how, how, how to forget them!")

the endlessness - ada limon ("How was i supposed to feel then? About moving in the world? How could I touch anything or anyone without the weight of all of time shifting through us?")

psalm - adonis ("Open my memory and study my face beneath its words, learn my alphabet. When you see foam weaving my flesh and stone flowing in my blood, you will see me. I am closed like a tree trunk, present and ungraspable like air. Thus I cannot surrender to you.")

the war works hard - dunya mikhail ("The war continues working, / day and night. / It inspires tyrants / to deliver long speeches / awards medals to generals / and themes to poets / it contributes/ to the industry / of artificial limbs / provides food for flies / adds pages to the history books / achieves equality / between killer and killed / teaches lovers to write letters / accustoms young women to waiting / fills the newspapers / with articles and pictures / builds new houses / for the orphans / invigorates the coffin makers / gives grave diggers / a pat on the back / and paints a smile on the leader's face.")

[witchersoldier]

To Whatever End

jj maybank x routledge!reader

SUMMARY: JJ loves you. But instead of just saying it, he reads your favorite books.

WARNINGS: (+16) kinda blasphemy but not really, reader reads sjm, guys forcing themselves on reader, drinking, rushed writing, not proof read (i just never do it) and that's all I guess. let me know if I missed something.

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

AUTHORS NOTE: this is my first jj fic, hope that's okay and not all that ooc. i used sarah j maas and her books bc they're just my favorite, if you don't like it just scroll down. english is not my mother tongue.

You can’t remember when you developed a passion for reading, it just happened. Now everywhere you go you carry a book with you, even if there’s absolutely no chance you’ll get to read it. Now, as for JJ, he absolutely remembers when he started to read books.

It was on a Friday last summer; everyone was gathered at the Chateau. John B., Pope and JJ were drinking at the porch while you, Kie and Sarah were down by the dock doing God knows what. When the sound of your laughter reached JJ’s ears he couldn’t help but gravitate towards you, pure admiration and curiosity guiding him. “Hey ladies. Just wanted to check if you still got everything you need down here? You know, drinks and snacks and- what’s that in your hand?” he asked, pointing to the huge book you held open, some phrases highlighted in a pastel red color. “I’m not surprised you don’t know what a book is.” Kiara bickered at the blonde, who scoffed and feigned offense, “I meant is this some kind of bible or some shit like that? It’s just I didn’t picture you as the religious type.” He offered the three girls an innocent smile. You’re one to always have a comeback at the tip of your tongue, but how could you say anything when JJ Maybank was looking down at you with such a pretty smile on his adorable face? “It’s not a bible, it’s fae-” Sarah brought you out of the trance as quickly as JJ put you in it. Was she really about to drop the ‘fae porn’ bomb on him like that? “It’s some shit like that, yeah” you smiled innocently at him, hoping he would just drop the subject. He squinted his eyes in an attempt to read the tittle of the book, but all he got was Sarah J. something and indistinguishable yellow letters. “We’re actually out of beer, will you bring us some?” Kiara asked a devilish smirk on her lips. JJ long forgot that’s the excuse he used to being there with you and not chatting with the guys. “I’m not your waitress, go get it yourself.” When he realized he blew his cover, there was no turning back. Sarah and Kie were already teasing him. “Well, then something else must have brought you here, right?”, “I think it was someone else, Kie.” Sarah nudged your shoulder, you pretended to be so deep in your book to notice the conversation. “More beers coming right up.” The blonde boy barely finished his sentence before sprinting back to where the guys sat.

He didn’t go back with your drinks, instead he sent John B., your brother.

•••

Later that night he unlocked his phone, googling the mysterious “Sarah J” he managed to read from your book earlier. And that’s how it started.

He read the A Court of Thorns and Roses book series. And read it quite fast, for someone who never held a book before. He would never admit it out loud, but he liked it. At first he was just curious about why you got all dodgy when he asked about the book-now he understood why-, but when he got through with the first one, he liked it. Liked to the point where he found himself sneaking into your room when nobody was home, just to see what else you had in your shelf. His eyes landed on the familiar Sarah J. Maas name, and he found a whole new book series. Throne of Glass. The series was huge. He grabbed the “Heir of Fire” one and stared flipping through the pages. Lots of highlighted texts in a color that match the cover, tabs neatly sticking out and some of your thoughts written on the pages. You were so passionate about this, he found it so endearing. JJ would give it a try. For you. And a little bit for him, too.

JJ was dropping hints your way, practically begging for you to catch up on what he’s been doing, but you never seemed to notice. Not when he said “you could rattle the stars, if only you dared” when you were worried about not being enough to get the job you wanted. Or even when he started calling you fireheart –because you reminded him of Aelin. Little did he now that your heart skipped a beat at the nickname.

The time he’s visibly caught your attention while quoting a book, the moment you knew what he was doing, was at a kegger.

You were dancing with Kie trying to enjoy the night, but you couldn’t stop looking at JJ, hoping that maybe this would be the day that he acted on you for real, not just the friendly flirting you were used to. Perhaps you should make the first move, after all he said you could rattle the stars, and you believed him dearly, so maybe you had a chance to rattle his heart. The only obstacle was the beauty he was talking to, looking too smiley for your liking. A drink. That’s what you needed. Then you could try and pour your heart out to him.

You were by the keg getting some more beer when you heard your name being called. Topper and Kelce. A blessing they were at least missing Rafe this time. The three of them always tried to have their way with you, but failing every time because your brother was always there to fight them away. Not tonight. Tonight he was with Sarah, and you were on your own.

Pretending not to hear them, you began walking to the opposite direction they were coming. “Hey Y/N, where are you going? The night is still young.” Exclaimed Topper, grabbing your wrist to stop you from going any further. Kelce came up behind you, his hand on your back pushing you to walk with him now. “Rafe’s moving the party back to his place, we would love it if you could join.” The way Kelce said that to you made you shiver in disgust and fear, Topper let go of your wrist and walked by your side, opposite to where his friend was. Your brain was running wild inside your head, trying to come up with a plan to get out of this situation. They weren’t holding you tight, so if you could just turn around between them fast enough and run back into the crowd, you’d be safe.

You kept walking with them for a few more seconds before making a run for it. And you managed to escape them, only to run into a hard chest. At first you thought it was Rafe, but then you heard his strong voice reverberating in his chest, words that had you gasping for air. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” JJ looked into your eyes and you knew he was doing it to make sure you weren’t hurt; he would always search for answers in your eyes. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder protectively and in this moment you felt so safe, like nothing would ever get to you, he would not allow it. “Thank you for finding her for me.” He said softly, it was meant more for you to hear than for Kelce and Topper, who were standing there frustrated.

Before they could say anything or start a fight, you and JJ ran back to into the crowd. You were laughing now, as if the bad situation you were in just a few seconds ago never really happened. “Alright, Rhysand. Is there something you would like to tell me?”.

And JJ told you how he started reading after that day by the dock. You didn’t hide your surprise and didn’t hide how much joy he brought you with just a simple gesture.

Something changed since that day. You and JJ grew closer and closer. You’ve always been close to him, since he was your brother’s best friend, but still you felt like your relationship with him leveled up. And all your friends could see it too. So why can’t any of you make that final move? You felt stuck between the friend zone and a relationship. There was always those lingering touches, hugs that lasted too long, nights you two spent alone talking about your favorite character and couples, but you never talked about your feelings.

That changed the moment he decided to make the most reckless thing in his life.

•••

You and the other pogues -plus Topper, who you barely acknowledged the whole night-, just stole the cross from that train. You were running from the cops in Topper truck when JJ turned around on his bike to create a distraction. You felt your heart go with him as soon as the police car turned to chase him. “Turn the car around” you screamed to no one in particular. There was arguing going on around you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to make out what they were saying, until Topper suddenly turned around and begin racing towards JJ, towards you heart. You remained calm on the outside, but inside you were panicking, you felt like your whole body was shaking. There were so many voices screaming for you to keep focused, and then there was a loud crash, the car stopped. The whole world seemed to stop around you as you looked around to see JJ’s totaled bike, concrete blocks around it and the guy you fell in love with nowhere to be seen.

You jumped out and ran to the bike, desperately looking around. “Where’s JJ?” you pleaded with tears in your eyes. “Where is he?” pacing around, calling for him so lost in your own fear that you didn’t hear groans and footsteps until you were spun around by someone. By him. He looked like he fell off a cliff. He kind of did. JJ’s body was hurting all over, but what hurt most was seeing you crying looking so lost. “Fireheart, why do you cry?” He didn’t mean to quote one of the most heartbreaking scenes of a book in a moment like this, it just came to him naturally. After all, you are his fireheart and he can’t stand to see you cry. His words hit you straight in the heart, you couldn’t speak. So you just moved on automatic, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him like your life depended on it. JJ didn’t waste time and kissed you right back, bringing you closer by wrapping his sore arms around your waist. The kiss was the best of the both worlds. Sweet and caring, but filled with desire and a salty taste, coming from your tears still cascading down your cheeks. Breaking apart the kiss was the last thing you wanted right now, but you had to. “Don’t you ever do that again, Maybank. I thought I lost you before I even got the chance to have you” You tried to sound serious and mad, but you couldn’t, happiness filling your bones and sipping out in the form of smiles and soft touches on his hair, now all dusty.

“Don’t worry, I’d never leave you. I’m with you. To whatever end.” He said with that cheeky grin you adored. “I love you, J.” you gave him a quick kiss. “And I love you,” he seemed like he was about to say something else, but you shut him up with a snarky comment. “I swear, if you’re about to say ‘Thorns and all’ I’ll be the one throwing you off the next bridge”.

[theinfernalsanctuary]

Do you have any good literature recommendations for Demonology? Ive been picking through an annotated Ars Goetia and, some what I understand, the Satanic Bible and the LaVeyan texts are more on the secular end.

It's just hard to get a grasp on where to start, especially as someone who falls more into the theistic end of things and prefers more esoteric diety work.

First things first, we're dropping the idea of "esoteric diety work". The condescending attitude that accompanies the use of that term, especially when asking for help, will never leave me in a position of wanting to help you.

Second, yes, if you're looking for works pertaining to the theistic side of Satanism, you're going to want to stay away from Lavey. My personal feelings on the man aside, the LaVeyan view on Satan is purely that he is a representation of opposition and not a diety into himself. That being said, reading through the Satanic Bible isn't necessarily a bad thing, it has quite a few core ideas and tenets that are good for applications to everyday life regardless of denomination.

Finally, the best book that the average person (I.e. outside of members of the clergy) will have access to regarding demonology is the Ars Goetia and more importantly The Lesser Key of Solomon that it comes from. It's unfortunate, but the Catholic church is hoarding a wealth of knowledge that is currently completely inaccessible to members of the general public, notably works on demons that are used for training for exorcisms and high status members of the clergy. All of that aside, I have a hard time recommending works on demonology outside of these ancient texts because people today refuse to do their research before speaking and publish works anyway that leave the reader with more questions than answers. Right now my personal favorite "cheat sheet" version of the Ars Goetia is the book The Goetia Devils by Rev. Cain, he claims in the beginning that that's not what it is but it works very well as a super stripped down (only the important bits and none of the thees and thous and even older English that make it a pain to read) version of the Ars Goetia and as of right now that's the only book other than the Lesser Key of Solomon itself that I can confidently recommend.

[artist-issues]

That’s cool that you love Twenty One Pilots (they’re one of my favorite bands, too). Quick question: How do you feel about the song Heathens?

Love it. It’s genius. It’s so good.

Musically, what is better than the shotgun-cocking sound that the guitar makes? Or the fact that the sound of the instrument vaguely sounds like the phrase “WATCH IT” that is being repeated over and over, so it sounds like you're getting shot by the words themselves. Like the warning in the lyrics isn't fast enough to save you from the consequences of needing that warning in the first place.

I don’t care at all that it’s in/was commissioned for “Suicide Squad.” I totally think Tyler Joseph is too contemplative and analytical to just write a theme song for characters he didn’t create. Plus, he can’t keep his hands off double-and-triple meanings, even when he’s writing original songs. So all of that to say, I don’t think the song is just basically about Suicide Squad.

But let’s talk about the concept that is in the song.

Can I just break it down this way? Can I just tell you what I would do if I were asked to write a song (nobody would ask me that, because I’m not a songwriter) for a movie where comic book villains were the main characters, and I knew that the movie would be playing on “people sympathizing with characters that are evil?”

I mean, seriously, some of you have asked me questions that get me thinking about the trend of idolizing bad guys. I think I can imagine pretty accurately what my thought process would be if someone asked me to write such a song.

I would think about my worldview. I might be a little uncomfortable, first-blush, at having to write a song that makes villains sound cool. But then I’d think about it. I’d think about what I believe; my knee-jerk response would (hopefully) be "what does the Bible say about villains? Definitely that they're bad, and bad guys are bad, not good to emulate, and they lose." But then as I thought deeper than that I'd realize what more the Bible says: that I am a villain. Or I was, apart from Christ.

Nasty and wicked, psycho and outcasted. I belong locked up. Apart from Him, apart from everything good and pure. But I'm not apart from Him. I still live on this planet and not in heaven, but nos that I’m in Him, what am I supposed to do about people who are not—people who are still “villains?”

Remember who I used to be. Because if I don’t remember who I used to be, I’ll start thinking I’m better than them and judge them and we’ll always be divided. But if I remember who I used to be, that I used to be a villain, I can get in there and tell them “I’m like you but here’s what’s different; I know Christ.”

Oh but you know what? I can’t say it like that. Or if I do, I should be prepared to be mauled by the villains. Because that’s what they do.

Like it’s in a pig’s makeup to roll in the mud, it’s in a villain’s nature to be villainous—especially when they expect you to strike first. I remember that nature because I used to have it.

So I have to be careful how I say it. I have to step carefully. I have to convince them that we have things in common—so that I can springboard off of that goodwill, that common ground, and tell the villains about the way out of being villainous. So they don't maul me before I can get the words out.

I genuinely believe that that’s where my Christian worldview would lead me, when looking for a direction to approach the task of “make a song about villains” from.

…And then Tyler Joseph of twenty one pilots writes:

All my friends are heathens take it slow

wait for them to ask you who you know

Please don’t make any sudden moves

You don’t know the half of the abuse

---

We don't deal with outsiders very well

They say newcomers have a certain smell

You have trust issues, not to mention

They say they can smell your intentions

You'll never know the freak show sitting next to you

You'll have some weird people sitting next to you

You'll think "How did I get here sitting next to you?"

---

I mean the easy read is to say, "heathens literally traditionally means 'people who aren't Christians.'" But it can also just carry the connotations of "irreverent, villainous people." So what I'm saying is, he runs the gamut. He's friends with the heathens, but to call them that and to (as the singer) address someone outside that group, he has to be a bridge between the two. Someone who is with the heathens, but is also no longer a heathen himself. And he has to warn the newcomer, who is not a heathen but is about to be among them, of a couple things.

First, be careful. Be careful how you move and what you say.

Second, notice the similarities between yourself and the heathens; you have trust issues and you're trying to figure out the intentions of everyone around you but you'll never be able to do that ("you'll never know.") Just like the heathens are: "they say newcomers have a certain smell." The key to completing your goal is to accept that your similarities, and it's actually not so strange to be sitting among them.

Third, what is your goal? Tyler only gives two hints about why this person the song is "talking" to might be in among the heathens at all. The first hint is "wait for them to ask you who you know." Why'd he say that?

Well one, on the surface, it sounds like you'd need to name-drop someone intimidating to impress criminals. But that doesn't explain why you should wait for them to ask you. So now comes the non-surface read of that lyric, the one that takes into account everything else Tyler's written about and said: wait for them to ask you about why you're there. About the God who makes you different.

Careful, don't come in swinging your sword. You might lop their heads off when you meant to save them. You might provoke them when you meant to bring peace. They've been abused. You're similar but you don't trust each other, and they don't trust your intentions. You can't just sledgehammer them with religious words; they won't understand. They'll associate it with the "abuse."

There's no other plausible way to read that.

You can try to say "it's about becoming a member of the twenty one pilots fandom," okay, but Tyler doesn't think the fandom is touchy about who joins. At least, he doesn't overtly think that. Overtly, he's claimed to be proud of the opposite—he's always quoting that one reviewer who said "your fanbase is the most inclusive clique I've ever seen." He loves the inclusivity. So he wouldn't write a song about a group of heathens who are hard to get in with and be a part of if he was talking about his fans, I don't think.

Now.

Second hint about why the person the songwriter is "speaking" to is in among the heathens; because that's actually the person's rightful place. "It looks like you might be one of us."

I think this is another layer of meaning. Not just "you were once dead," meaning you can still remember who you were before Christ and use that relatability to earn trust. But also, there's something else you have in common with heathens.

And this is where I think you could draw a more meta-line from a listener to twenty one pilots' music. You could go; "I really like this music. But maybe I don't just like it because I can relate to the hope. Maybe I also like it because there's more of me that relates to the struggle than I thought."

Even doubt. I think one of the odd things about Tyler's fans after Blurryface was that they were identifying so much with the struggles and the doubts and the darkness...but in the later eras, there isn't as clear an answer to the dark parts. So you get the vibe that he's noticing that the "brokenness" of his fan base is becoming the loudest part. That even people who came for the hope are also coming for the identifying-with-the-darkness—the bad parts.

[maskedrealities]

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Basics

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・❥・ Name: Lilith

・❥・ Age: 21

・❥・ Pronouns: She/They/He

・❥・ Gender: Gender-fluid

・❥・ Orientation: Demiromantic, Demisexual, Omni, Mono

・❥・ Extra: I’m American, Japanese, and Korean and currently reconnecting to Japanese heritage before connecting to Korean.

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Get To Know Me

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・❥・ I am someone who identities as non-human due to past trauma and cannot easily identify with human experiences. I associate more with demon/devil, puppet/doll, vampire, and angel. These labels help me have a better understanding of myself and allow me to love myself more.

・❥・ I actively enjoy reading, writing, photography, gaming, and making art. My favorite games include Halo, Assassin’s Creed franchise (particularly fond of the first, Mirage, and Valhalla), Jedi: Fallen Order/Jedi: Survivor, Stardew Valley, Minecraft, and otome games (major fan of Shall We Date games).

・❥・ I write more poetry but I’m getting into fledging more into books. I actively despise AI “art” as it takes away from the process it takes to learn and shape your own designs while writing. It also isn’t art, it is something that has used works of incredible people and takes away from the artist.

・❥・ I am an active fan of Hozier, STARSET, Breaking Benjamin, Three Days Grace, Set It Off, Sleep Token, Citizen Soldier, 8 Graves, Fall Out Boy, Hollywood Undead, and many more.

・❥・ I deal with a lot of things regarding obsessive thoughts and behaviors relating to my disorders. I do consider myself to be a yandere as it gives more details into how my disorders affect me and I support other people that have reclaimed the term.

・❥・ I am an intersex individual and learning more about my community and learning to be more comfortable with myself.

・❥・ My religion is mainly surrounding Norse paganism. I do not claim the people that use the religion as a means of supporting any sort of bigotry. I do not support ANY type of bigotry here.

・❥・ I actively enjoy making friends and answering questions. Please feel free to talk to me!

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Blog Related:

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・❥・ The only tags I will post under will be regarding to the blog itself, such as #maskedrealities and #lilith speaks/#lilithrambles/#rambles of Lilith.

・❥・ My blog is where I get to be unapologetically me. I will not conform to what others want of me.

・❥・ I actively do not mind others needing a place to go either, you are more than welcome to send something via message or ask as a means of just talking to someone. Though I cannot say I’ll be quick to respond.

・❥・ Anon asks will always be a thing, but any hate will include me laughing in your face. If you’re going to waste my time and your time being negative, I can at least find some joy in how much you must hurt someone else because you aren’t able to appreciate yourself.

・❥・ I am not required to be nice.

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My DNI:

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・❥・ Homophobes, transphobes, racists, any and all types of bigotry.

・❥・ Pro contact, anti-recovery paraphilias (I.e pedophilia, zoophilia, etc.). If you are actively getting help or are no contact and pro-recovery, feel free to interact.

・❥・ Political things. I know the world is going to shit, but I can’t stand it.

・❥・ Anti goodfaith, anti mspec labels.

・❥・ Anti neopronouns/xenogenders.

・❥・ If you actively mock or hate furries, therians, otherkin, otherhearted, non-humans, etc.

・❥・ If you use any sort of regression as a means of supporting pedophilia.

・❥・ If you judge kinks/what someone likes.

・❥・ If you preach about “closed culture” and try and remove people from that culture away from it and need “proof.”

・❥・ Religious talk. (Any asks or DMs commenting about the Bible, or heavily talking about “finding Jesus” or “worshipping God”)

・❥・ Pro harassment people.

・❥・ TransIDs/radqueers

・❥・ If you actively make fun of, mock, or harass people for taking the term “yandere” back to express their experiences.

・❥・ If you believe in any type of [disorder] abuse. Such as narc abuse, bipolar abuse, borderline abuse. These types of “abuse” don’t exist. Stop turning disorders into horror tropes.

・❥・ Endogenic/any type of non-traumagenic “system” and their supporters. A CDD must have trauma behind it.

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Extra Notes

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・❥・ Thank you for your time and patience for reading through this! It means a lot to me that this was read or skimmed through.

・❥・ Things might be added, changed, or removed in the future. As of now, though, I welcome everyone that isn’t on my DNI to interact even without following!

・❥・ I hope you have a good day!

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Bye Bye!

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