#source: the 40-years-old virgin

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

Lola: Wow, this place is crowded. Bugs: Yeah, well, you know, nine dollar carrot juice night.

[suppermariobroth]

The official guide for Wario World makes an unexpected appearance in a feature film.

In the 2005 film "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" starring Steve Carell, the main character is briefly seen reading the 2003 official Prima guide for Wario World. Notably, this is happening without him actually playing the game, implying that he may be reading the guide for fun instead.

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[deathlessathanasia]

Was the myth of Io originally about Hera as a cow goddess?

This is a pretty old theory, not sure if it is still in vogue among scholars. I think the new tendency is to look for deeper explanations behind such myths rather than simply assuming that they are misinterpretations of a supposed original theriomorphic conception of the gods.

I suppose it is possible and the connections between Hera and Io are obvious, but the arguments I've seen for it aren't particularly convincing to me and I just haven't found solid enough evidence to support the idea that Hera was ever worshipped as an actual cow. So in short I don't really know, but here are some excerpts:

"Although we have had reason to question the usefulness of the concept of the hypostasis or avatar [ch. 2.5.2], on the grounds that it makes the mortal a superfluous reflection of the immortal, mortal and immortal can still come close in profile. Io the cow-maid priestess plainly invites comparison with Hera the cow-faced goddess. But, more than that, Zeus in myth and in rituals of the Argolid is sexual partner of Hera, and likewise of Io. Io may be a maiden, but so is Hera, who becomes a parthenos anew every year at the spring Kanathos in Nauplia. Thus to say in the Argolid that a priestess of Hera ends her maidenhood by intercourse with Zeus is immediately to associate that maiden with Hera. Hera, being a goddess, operates on a high level: hers is a sort of cosmic marriage, to be associated no doubt with her Demeter-like control of agriculture in the Argolid. Io is a mortal, whose function is to associate the initiands with the workings of divinities and to offer them a model at a point of crisis. There is more in their similarity than a blunt ‘originally Io was probably Hera herself’." - Death and the Maiden: Girls Initiation Rites in Greek Mythology by Ken Dowden

"Io is a priestess of Hera at Argos who is seduced by Zeus and then turned into a cow by, or in fear of, Hera.37 As Callisto is considered to be a double of Artemis, so Io is considered to be in origin Hera herself; her union with Zeus and her transformation are, according to this view, a sacred mariage of the great gods in cow form similar to the marriage of Ningirsu and Bau celebrated in an annual ritual in Sumeria.38 An obvious question is why Hera should be replaced in the myth by a mortal, even though, unlike Artemis, Hera did not develop a role as a virgin goddess but rather continued to be the regular partner in the Greek sacred marriage.39 It is therefore argued that the direct source of the myth was a ritual in which the priestess impersonated the cow-goddess Hera in the sacred marriage, as a sacred slave represented the goddess in the Sumerian form of the rite.40

Hera clearly had a close connection with cows. In Homer she is known as boopis ('cow-eyed') and her image at Samos appears to be decorated with horns. Her cult at Argos involved cows in a number of different ways: they were offered to her in sacrifice, her priestess was brought to the city on a cart drawn by oxen, her temple stood on a hill called Euboea ('rich in cows'), and a herd of cattle belonging to the goddess was kept nearby.41 It is also true that some accounts suggest a sacred mariage of the traditional Eastern type. Io is described as the 'famous wife' of Zeus,42 and her cow form is sometimes seen as a symbol of fertility and motherhood, and linked with the general fertility of the land.43 Most striking perhaps is the version of the story in which the earth brings forth flowers for the cow Io after her union with Zeus in a way that recalls not only Eastern hymns and myth but the union of Zeus and Hera in the Iliad.44 However, again the theory is very implausible. First of all, as with Callisto, the evidence falls short of suggesting that Hera was ever an animal-goddess. The Argive evidence points to her ownership of, and wealth in, cows rather than to identity with the cow and can perfectly well be understood in terms of the more limited concept of the holy animal.45 It makes sense that Io, the human servant or property of a goddess whose holy animal is a cow, becomes that holy animal in a myth; … The epithet boopis and the horned image do not take us very far either. In Homer boopis is used of other women and clearly refers to no more than their beauty; and the horns at Samos seem more likely to be a decorative feature borrowed from Eastern models than to reflect the original animal nature of the goddess46: no Minoan-Mycenaean evidence suggests the existence of a cow-headed goddess47 As_ for the sacred marriage with a masked priestess, the sacred mariage was a feature of Greek religion; however, we simply do not know what role was played by the priestess of the god,48 and we have no evidence at all that animal masks ever played a part in such rites … The fact that the myth plays upon ideas associated with the traditional sacred marriage does not require us to imagine that Io is Hera herself. In fact, whereas Hera is above all the goddess of the order of marriage, the story of Io celebrates (in so far as there is any celebration) the more basic themes of fertility and motherhood in the context of an illegitimate liaison." - Metamorphosis in Greek Myths by P. M. C. Forbes Irving

[sophie1973]

Bloodstream - Chapter 3

Here it is, chapter 3 of Bloodstream.

You can read on AO3, or under the cut.

Thank you so much Lauren @ash-morrison for the beautiful moodboard.

London, Drury Lane, September 1885

Alex Claremont-Diaz is nervous.

Never mind that he is a grown man of 28 years old (forever, although not by choice) and a big, scary vampire (He’s not. Nora says he’s a big Teddy Bear trapped in a vampire’s body. She’s not wrong.)

Tonight, he’s meeting Arthur Fox.

Or so he hopes.

He, June, and Nora saw him onstage when they spent a few months in London 15 years ago. After a decade in Boston—where June landed a position at a prestigious journal, and Alex settled for a mundane job at a small law firm—their eternal youth, conspicuous, drew too much attention. So, once more, they packed their bags and left.

Back to England.

This time, though, Alex doesn't quite feel the usual pang of regret at leaving it all behind.

Again.

It’s not that he enjoyed third-wheeling his sister and her partner, but she had been adamant he would come with them to England and not stay behind on his own in America.

He had not protested, understanding his sister's insistence and the importance of this new chapter in their lives.

Upon settling in London, one of his initial endeavors was procuring tickets for Drury Lane, specifically for the upcoming performance starring Arthur Fox in King Lear. Alex had also caught wind of a post-show tradition: Arthur occasionally emerged from the backdoor to distribute signed photographs to his admirers.

June and Nora had come to see the performance but had declined the backdoor. Arthur Fox was married to a slayer in one of the most prominent lines, so they were not keen on getting too close.

Not that Arthur Fox would be able to guess what they were, but whatever, Alex was still taking that opportunity. Obviously, it would be nicer to share his excitement with someone, but it is what it is. Vampirism was only a good basis for long-lasting friendships if you were lucky to meet and bond with another vampire sharing the same interests as you. Still, unfortunately, those were mostly keeping to themselves and not exactly shouting their condition over the rooftops. 

He had made his peace with that. Mostly.

So here he is now, at the backdoor, his heart pounding with eagerness and nervousness, eagerly waiting amongst a few other people for Arthur to appear, exchange a few words with him, and even - if Alex is lucky - shake his hand. He is surprised that there is not a bigger crowd, but it is all the better for him to get a few extra minutes with the great actor.

Discreetly, he wipes his damp palms on his pants.

The door opens, and Arthur appears, all golden hair and a roguish grin. Alex has never been sold on the eternal life schtick, but if it allowed him to live an extra 40 years to enjoy this moment, it was probably worth it.

Arthur steps forward, his presence commanding and his smile captivating. Alex, his heart racing, tries to maintain composure, suppressing the urge to giggle like a virgin debutante as Arthur asks for his name.

“Alex Claremont-Diaz. It is very nice to meet you,” he introduces himself, proud of his steady voice even though he is screaming inside.

“Lovely to meet you too, Alex. Did you enjoy the play?”

This is the moment Alex has been yearning for, a chance to delve into his profound admiration for the play, to share his thoughts, impressions, and interpretations of the scenes and the source material.

Arthur doesn’t interrupt him, even listen rapturously, until Alex catches the bored face of his assistant behind him and stops talking.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a sheepish laugh. “I have this habit of going on a tangent when talking about things I’m passionate about. Feel free to shut me up and send me on my way anytime.”

Arthur's smile widens, his eyes reflecting genuine interest. “No need for apologies, Alex. I would never dream of silencing such a unique perspective. Your insights on the play are truly fascinating.”

And Alex falls a little bit in love.

Arthur turns to the assistant to get a photograph, but the young man shows his empty hands. “I’m sorry, we ran out.”

Alex feels slightly disappointed but knows he's already taken too much time. Nevertheless, he still gets to have an entire conversation with Arthur Fox, which makes him feel incredibly fortunate.

“Oh, that will not do at all,” Arthur protests. “I know I have some left in my dressing room. Why don’t you come with me? You mentioned you saw Much Ado About Nothing a few years ago. What do you think of the conversation between Claudio and Don John at the masked ball in Act 2?”

To his utter astonishment, Alex finds himself following Arthur Fox through the corridors of Drury Lane, chatting about one of his absolute favorite plays.

He can't believe this is his fucking life.

Upon entering the dressing room, they find themselves engrossed in a lively discussion about the characters and happy endings in Shakespeare's plays.

Arthur swiftly grabs a photograph, scribbles his signature, and passes it to Alex.

"Thank you so much," Alex gushes with gratitude.

"Your insights are truly appreciated. It's heartening to know that even within the vampire community, dear old William finds admirers," Arthur remarks with an innocent grin as if he hasn't just dropped a bombshell at Alex's feet.

Fuck. Blindly following Arthur Fox, especially given his marital connections, might not have been the wisest decision after all.

"How?" Alex inquires, unable to conceal his concern. Not that he believes Arthur will suddenly drive a stake through his chest. Sure, being staked by his favorite actor would carry a certain poetic irony, but he hasn't anticipated his sorry existence ending tonight.

Arthur smiles and nods to Alex’s right hand. "Your daylight ring. I'm a Wizard, Alex. I've supplied a few of your kind with those."

Alex hesitates, processing the information before a quirky thought bubbles to the surface: "How does that sit with your mother-in-law?"

With a crinkle of his nose followed by a chuckle, Alex responds, "Let's just say she's not exactly a Shakespeare enthusiast nor an enthusiast of mine. But we have an understanding, and I try not to let her poison my kid’s brains.." He gestures proudly to the family photos adorning the wall. "Meet Philip, Beatrice, and the youngest, Henry," he says, a loving look in his eyes as Alex lingers a bit on the last photograph of a beautiful young man, all blond eyes and clear eyes, a soft smile on his plump lips. A small mole is on the upper right of his mouth, and Alex is strangely fascinated by it.

“I should head home to them now. Do you need someone to escort you back?"

"No need," Alex assures him. "Thanks again. It's been a pleasure."

Arthur smiles genuinely, extending a handshake. "The pleasure's mine, Alex. Perhaps our paths will cross again."

"If you ever find yourself performing in America, I'll be in the front row. Take care, Mr. Fox."

Exiting the dressing room, Alex's mind buzzes with excitement, eager to share the encounter with June and Nora.

******

London, Mountchristen-Windsor residence, Mars 1888

Philip has a bad feeling about this meeting.

It’s not unusual for their grandmother to call them into her office to discuss slaying business, but something feels different this time. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but he generally trusts his instincts.

After all, they’ve kept him alive in the field all these years.

It’s why he never revealed to his grandmother that the woman he recently married is a witch.

It’s not that he thinks she could hurt Martha or worse. Her magical practices have dwindled to innocuous potions and healing arts, but he’s not blind or stupid, and he notices how Gran sometimes looks at his father.

It’s not a pleasant look.

It's much like the one she’s wearing now, her face stern and closed off, her gaze piercing and frigid. She’s not a warm woman by any stretch, but something about her demeanor sets off all kinds of alarms in Philip’s head.

Judging by how Henry and Beatrice sit rigidly together on the settee, he’s not alone in his thoughts.

Mary sits behind her desk, looking like a headmistress about to severely punish her unruly pupils.

“It has come to my attention that Henry is spending time with Percy Okonjo.”

Philip’s stomach drops as he turns to his younger brother, whose already pale complexion has gone ashen. He purses his lips and lowers his gaze to his lap as Beatrice releases a soft gasp.

None of this escapes Mary’s attention.

Philip gestures towards Mary, trying to divert her attention while giving Henry a moment to collect himself. "Percy Okonjo comes from a well-respected lineage and is involved in numerous charitable endeavors. He recently inaugurated a new orphanage in Brooklyn."

Mary shoots him a piercing glare. "But he's also a vampire. How did you come to know him?"

"He's not a malevolent vampire," Philip argues, though Mary's expression suggests his efforts are futile. "We run in the same circles. Mom and Dad supported his orphanage initiative, and—" He cuts himself off mid-sentence because he knows he made a mistake just as the words are out.

How bad of a mistake he doesn’t know yet, but the look on Mary’s face doesn’t bode well.

The tension in the room heightens as Mary's gaze narrows. "Is that so?"

He doesn’t answer, a sour feeling crawling at the base of his stomach.

“There are no good or bad vampires, Philip. They are just filthy creatures, and it is our duty to get rid of them, no matter what they look like. Henry is not supposed to engage in any way with them, and he knows better than that, which is extremely disappointing.”

Realizing the futility of further discussion, Philip refrains from elaborating, wary of drawing Mary's ire or endangering Henry further.

Henry, silent until now, betrays his discomfort through tense posture and flushed cheeks. Philip senses his brother's simmering anger just beneath the surface.

“Am I being clear, Henry?”

“Perfectly clear, Gran,” Henry replies. The tone is dry, but thankfully, Mary doesn’t call him on it. 

“I hope so. I would hate to have to take matters into my own hands.” 

The threat is limpid, even ominous, and with one last warning look, she leaves the room, leaving the three of them in various states of shock and confusion.

“Fuck,” Philip mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose and ignoring the surprised looks his siblings throw at him. Indeed, he doesn’t swear often, and certainly not in front of them, but the situation seems to require it.

“She certainly did not seem happy to know about Mom and Dad’s involvement with Percy,” Bea says, her voice quivering slightly and her complexion drained of its usual color. 

“I should have kept my mouth shut, but I honestly thought she knew. Which, in retrospect, is a bit daft on my part,” Philip sighs.

“It’s alright, Pip. You were trying to defend me. Besides, it’s not like they hid anything. It’s only because I spent time with him that she took notice, and we all know why,” Henry chimes in, his face closed and somber. 

Bea reaches for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.“I’m not sure what offends her the most: that you would shag a man, that he is black, or that he is a vampire.”

“Bea,” Philip chastises her half-heartedly, but when he hears Henry’s soft laugh, he lets out one too. “Probably all three.”

“So,” he adds, “I don’t want to sound alarmist, but I still think we should warn Percy. Just to be on the safe side.”

Beatrice’s eyes widen. “You think she could….? I know Percy is not a peerage member, but he is still a prominent name in society. His…disappearance would definitely cause some stir.” 

"It pains me to admit it, but I believe she could. And she will. I don't want to dwell on the negative possibilities," Philip emphasizes, noticing Henry's distressed expression. "But it's Gran."

"I suppose we should exercise more caution for a while. Percy mentioned expanding the shelters to America; perhaps it's the right time. Like you, I can't trust Gran to remain passive, even if Percy and I no longer cross paths," Henry murmurs softly, clearly disturbed by the thought of parting ways with his closest friend. Philip senses Henry blaming himself for inadvertently involving Percy in their predicament.

"It's just a precaution; I'm sure everything will turn out fine," Philip reassures, though he doubts his own words. Yet, seeing Henry and Bea's tension ease slightly, he feels relief despite deceiving them.

Philip has always trusted his instincts, and the fact that he has been so catastrophically right about them will haunt him for the rest of his days.

Two weeks later, Arthur Fox is found dead in an alley behind Drury Lane, allegedly the victim of a random mugging.

Six weeks later, with the help of Percy, who made arrangements from across the pond, Philip puts his siblings on a ship to America, wishing desperately it won’t be the last he will see of them.

**********

Brooklyn, Prospect Park, April 1891

The situation isn't exactly dire, but with four vampires closing in on Henry, the odds aren't exactly in his favor. However, as they say in America, this isn't his first rodeo. (It's amusing how you pick up expressions when you befriend a Texan vampire with ridiculously long eyelashes, but that's beside the point right now.)

Henry swiftly dispatches two vampires (not that he's boasting). Dealing with the third requires a bit more effort, but he handles it easily (again, not boasting). As he prepares to face the fourth, stake at the ready, the vampire vanishes in a cloud of dust, revealing another vampire with glossy dark curls and an infuriating smirk.

“You’re welcome, your Majesty.”

Henry's heart skips a beat at the warmth in that voice and the mischief in those brown eyes, cursing the effect it always holds on him.  

“I was handling the situation. But I have manners, so thank you, I suppose.”

“Where’s Beatrice?”

“At home. She was feeling a bit under the weather.” 

Alex frowns. “Oh. Will she be alright?”

“Just a migraine. I’ll send her your regards. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

There is no sarcasm in his voice, but Alex raises his hands defensively. “Hey, your sister likes me. She hasn’t threatened to stake me in a while.”

Henry’s lips quirks up. “Did she before?”

“Once. Not in so many words, but still. We were talking about you.”

“Ah, yes. Protective older sister.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “Tell me about it.”

"Was that where you've been these past few days? Visiting your sister in Washington?" Henry inquires.

Alex's grin widens. "Ah, so you noticed my absence."

Henry considers denying it but quickly decides against it. What would be the use? He simply shrugs. "Perhaps."

He heads back towards the park entrance, where his carriage awaits, confident that Alex will trail behind. He's starting to understand the vampire's patterns.

True to expectation, Alex follows without fail.

"So... Are you finished for the night?" Alex queries casually.

"I believe so. Why?" Henry responds.

Alex shrugs, a picture of nonchalance. "Care for a drink? The Club on Seventh Avenue might still be open."

Henry’s heart rate quickens its pace. So far, they have shared a few drinks at receptions, but this is different. He knows men often frequent such clubs for political discussions and entertainment over expensive spirits, and he wouldn’t even think twice about going with anyone else. But there is something in Alex’s eyes when he looks at him, especially since that evening in the library. A dangerous glint, a hunger that has nothing to do with his lust for blood and everything to do with pure, carnal desire.  

A temptation Henry knows he must resist, no matter how strong the pull. 

"I should return and check on Bea," he replies, listening to the voice of reason in his mind while silencing the one in his heart.

Disappointment briefly flickers across Alex's face but swiftly transforms into a smile. "Of course. I understand."

Henry's attention drifts as he catches sight of something behind his companion. He tenses, every sense heightened.

"Alex..." he murmurs, the shift in his tone catching the vampire's notice.

"What is it?"

"A werewolf is headed our way."

Alex pivots, spotting the creature further down their path, its fur gleaming in the moonlight.

It seems oblivious to their presence, swaying slightly on its feet and emitting low growls. Henry watches it closely for a moment. This isn't a predatory werewolf; it appears disoriented and lost.

Instinctively, Henry seizes Alex's arm and guides him behind himself. They retreat cautiously, seeking cover behind a nearby tree.

.“Please tell me you have that handy little pistol you pulled on me that first time,” and Henry feels Alex’s exhale of relief against his neck as he fishes out the gun from his coat. 

Alex is standing very close to him, closer than it is strictly necessary, but Henry doesn’t feel the need to call him on it. He already knows the werewolf is not a threat to either of them, but for some reason, having Alex squirming behind him is kind of thrilling. Also, it’s not as if the vampire doesn’t tease him frequently on all sorts of things.    

Alex clears his throat as the werewolf slowly approaches. “What the fuck are you waiting for, Fox? I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how fucking lethal a werewolf scratch would be to little old me, right? And that there’s no cure?”

“Of course I know,” Henry says, eyes still on the creature. Just because he enjoys this moment doesn’t mean he will take any risk with their safety.

“Then shoot it!”

Henry turns to him with a smirk. “Only if you say please.”

The disbelief on Alex’s face at that moment is priceless, prompting Henry to laugh, which attracts the werewolf’s attention.

“Oh shit,” Alex whimpers, and Henry decides to take him out of his misery and pulls the trigger, shooting the creature in the leg. There is a howl of pain as it falls heavily on the grass. 

"Wouldn't it be more efficient to aim for the heart?" Alex quips, dripping with sarcasm. Henry brushes off the comment, moving closer as Alex follows cautiously.

“You’re a little shit, you know that?” he calls out, his tone both exasperated and amused.

Henry laughs again—something that seems to happen a lot when Alex is around, but now is not the time to dwell on that —and by the time he’s kneeling next to the body, the werewolf has returned to its human form. Henry is glad to know his instincts were right.

Alex finally joins him. “Woah. It’s just a kid.”

Henry nods. “He's a fledgling, which is why I shot his leg. He’s been recently turned.”

“You noticed all that while he was walking towards us?” Alex asks, and Henry tries hard not to preen under his impressed tone.

“It’s my job, Alex. Though my Gran would have me exterminate them all, I've learned things aren't always so black and white.”

"Guess having half-demonic blood helps," Alex remarks casually, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

Henry whips his head around while tending to the young man's wound. "How do you know?"

“Your father told me he was a wizard when I met him in London a few years ago.”

Henry, taken aback, says, "I remember you mentioning seeing him on stage and meeting him once, but you never mentioned having a conversation where he outright told you he was a wizard."

The revelation puzzles Henry. While not entirely a secret, Arthur wasn't one to flaunt his magical abilities, especially after marrying into a lineage of slayers. Discussions about it were rare, particularly in the presence of his grandmother, who harbored evident disapproval of the union and her son-in-law, maintaining a chilly civility towards him.

Now, Henry realizes she was merely biding her time.

His father's openness with Alex that day suggests there was something about him Arthur found trustworthy.

Like father like son, right?

Shaking off the distraction, Henry refocuses. "Well, that's a tale for another day. Will you assist me in getting him into my carriage? I need to take him to Percy."

Alex does a double-take. "Percy? As in Percy Okonjo?"

"The very same."

"You're acquainted with Percy Okonjo?"

"He's my best mate, Alex. Haven't you noticed us conversing at recent gatherings?"

"No! Wait... Percy Okonjo is your best friend? Vampire Percy Okonjo?"

Henry, growing irritated, crosses his arms. "Repeating his name several times will not summon him magically. How do you know him?"

"I've been assisting him with the shelters, contributing financially when possible, and aiding newly turned vampires. I met him a few months after he settled in New York."

"Seriously?" Henry reflects on his recent chat with Percy, where the latter had played coy about Alex. "That little weasel," Henry grumbles, though he knows it's unfair. Percy was just respecting Alex's privacy, much like he does for Henry.

"Oh, come on..."

Henry sighs. "I wasn't talking about you. Never mind about that. Can you help me or not?"

"I can, but we're not done talking about this," he remarks as Henry grabs the unconscious young man by the shoulders while Alex grabs his legs, and they head towards the park entrance.

“I’m serious, Henry,” Alex persists, and Henry rolls his eyes. Does that man ever stop yapping? It’s endearing, but now is really not the time."I need to know everything about the slayer and his vampire best mate," he adds with a dreadful British accent.

"I fail to see why you're so surprised. You know where I stand on the whole slaying business. Plus, I'm here with you, right? And unlike my sister, I've never threatened to stake you."

"No, you threatened to shoot me instead, which isn't quite as lethal, but still. And we've only met in public places so far, and, most importantly, I saved your life earlier tonight."

Henry snorts. “Alright, let’s not get carried away here. And please tone it down. I don’t want to attract every vampire and their grandmother nearby. It’s already a miracle no one has shown up yet after the gunshot.”

They carefully place the body in the carriage, mindful of his injury.

"How long have you two known each other?" Alex queries as Henry prepares to take the reins, prompting a chuckle from the slayer.

“Good grief, you’re like a dog with a bone.”

"More like a vampire with a tasty neck at his disposal," Alex quips, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "And yes, I know your stance on this, but you two are so different, even putting aside the slayer/vampire thing. And oh my God, I have so many questions. First, how-"

Henry is not sure what goes through his mind at that moment, but what is certain is that his brain is not involved in any way in his impulsive action.

His heart is. His heart wins for once in his life.

He seizes Alex by the neck, drawing him into a fervent kiss that leaves no room for words. For a fleeting moment, a serene quiet envelops them as Alex stiffens, then yields, wrapping his arm around Henry's waist to deepen the kiss.

Alright, maybe Henry was naive, thinking he just wanted to shut Alex up for a minute. He hadn't expected Alex to shove his tongue in his mouth so eagerly.

(He had absolutely expected it.)

A low moan erupts from one of their chests; Henry isn't sure whose. But he's acutely aware of Alex's body pressed against his, the softness of his lips, and the delicious way Alex's tongue slides against his own, licking, tasting, taking. He pulls back briefly, only to capture Henry's bottom lip, biting it gently.

Even in these circumstances, Henry should have known Alex would be a biter.

He pulls away as abruptly as he initiated the kiss, his breath erratic, his vision unfocused, and his senses reeling. Alex looks dazed, his hair disheveled, and Henry vaguely recalls threading his fingers through those curls. He had wanted to know how they felt for so long, but the intensity of the kiss left his memory a blur.

“That’s one way to shut me up, I guess,” Alex breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze is filled with wonder, and his fluttering eyelids stir something within Henry.

Stepping back, Henry puts some distance between them to quell the urge for a repeat performance. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. It was highly inappropriate."

Alex rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "Didn't seem like I minded, did it?"

Henry swallows hard. "No."

“Well then. Feel free to shut me up like this anytime.”

Henry certainly will do no such thing, but he deems it more reasonable to drop the subject.

“Where is your carriage? Did you ride here ?”

Alex opens his mouth and closes it as if he wants to add something about what occurred between them but then thinks better of it.

“No, I walked.”

 Henry frowns. “At this hour? It doesn’t seem very safe.” 

"Henry, I’m a vampire. I can take care of myself, believe it or not. The worst that could happen is me tripping and falling on my own stake, which, admittedly, would be a very undignified way to go."

Henry crosses his arms and nods toward the unconscious form on the carriage floor. "And what about that werewolf?"

Alex shrugs. "I can run very fast," he replies, then adds, "I have trouble sleeping, and walking helps quiet my mind."

Henry shakes his head, a smile breaking the tension. He remembers Alex mentioning his mental struggles and understands the issue with sleep.

"Alright, hop on. We'll stop by Percy’s, and then I'll drop you off at your place."

The drive to Percy’s house is mostly silent—not uncomfortable, but Henry’s thoughts keep drifting to that kiss. The way Alex's body fit against his like two pieces of a puzzle, the sensation of his lips and tongue, the softness of his hair beneath Henry’s fingers—yes, he remembers it vividly now.

Henry also recalls that this is the sole and final kiss they will ever share, a realization that casts a heavy shadow over his mood and leaves a bitter, lingering taste in his mouth.

He unwittingly painted a target on his best friend’s back a few years ago. The thought of potentially repeating that mistake with Alex now fills him with a deep-seated fear and a resolve to avoid such a risk at all costs.

The logical course of action would be to sever ties completely before he’s too deep - even though he knows it's already too late. Moreover, considering Alex's nature, he's confident he would vehemently oppose such a decision. Alex is not one to surrender without a fight.

Bea’s words from that night months ago ring in his head. She was wrong, though. Alex didn’t break Henry’s heart. Henry did that all to himself.

But he has no other choice.

He’s relieved when he sees Percy’s house in the distance. 

Percy owns a terraced house in Park Slope, one side serving as his private residence and the other as the first shelter he established in the area. Henry parks discreetly by the side entrance, designed for horses and carriages. This was the safest way to deliver the unconscious werewolf to Shaan, Percy’s trusted assistant.

He and Alex are then led to Percy’s study, who welcomes them with a big smile.

“Well, this is an interesting development—my favorite slayer and favorite vampire. Seems like you've both had quite the night,” he remarks.

“What happened to your hair?” Alex interjects, pointing to Percy’s new lavender locks.

Percy chuckles. “Ah, just a little experiment. What do you think?”

“It’s... certainly unique,” Henry replies cautiously.

“So, what’s the story there?” Percy prods, gesturing towards the pair.

"I was out on patrol, and Alex here was..." Henry turns to his companion, arching an eyebrow.

"Feeding," Alex chimes in first, followed by a smirk. "And saving your ass."

Henry rolls his eyes. "We bumped into each other, then a werewolf showed up. Alex took cover behind me-"

Alex scoffs. “Hey, you pulled me behind you, and hello, vampire? Werewolf? Not my idea of a fair fight. Excuse me for having some infinitesimal shred of self-preservation. It doesn’t make me a coward.”

“I didn’t call you a coward, Alex. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Which, he realizes belatedly, was the absolute worst thing to say. He sees the grin spreading Alex’s - so, so soft - lips and turns to Percy.

“I’m parched. Would you have anything to drink, perchance?”

Percy glances between them, amusement and curiosity dancing in his eyes. 

“Where are my manners? You two indeed look like you could use some refreshments. Alexander dear?”  

“Can I use your water closets first? I need to wash my hands.”

"By all means, babes. You know the way.”

Alex leaves, and Percy pours two drinks, leaves one on the table, and hands the other to Henry with a knowing look.

“What?” Henry asks. He knows he won’t escape the Okonjo Inquisition. His best friend knows him too well. And yet, he’s never wholly prepared for Percy’s shrewd mind. 

“You two kissed,” Percy states matter-of-factly rather than asking.

Henry chokes on his brandy, spitting half of it on his shirt.

“How the bloody Hell…?”

“Oh, come one, Hazza. The flushed cheeks, the starry eyes, and the extremely smug smile on Alexander’s face? This is the look of a man who finally had his dream come true.”

Henry shakes his head, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he rubs at his wet shirt with the handkerchief Percy just gave him. “If kissing me is his dream, the bar is not very high. It’s not exactly the grandest achievement.”

“Tsk Tsk, no self-depreciation under my room. Judging by the look on his face, it seemed highly satisfactory. How did it happen? Did you like it?”

Henry avoids the second question.."I kissed him to silence his incessant chatter in the middle of Prospect Park. He would have probably attracted all kinds of unsavory creatures. I had no choice, really.” 

“You could have just asked him to shut up,” Percy says, his dark eyes twinkling.

Henry lets out a brief laugh. "Believe me, I tried. But have you met him?"

Alex returns, and Percy hands him his drink, which he gulps in one go, eyeing Henry’s stained shirt.

“What happened to you?”

“Nothing. Are you ready to go?”

They bid Percy goodbye and head towards Alex's home. Conversation flows smoothly, ranging from Percy's latest hair color antics to the juiciest gossip from high society, all previous awkwardness seemingly forgotten.

Until they reach Alex's doorstep.

"Thank you for the company, Alex. I suppose I'll be seeing you soon."

Alex hesitates before stepping off, meeting Henry's gaze with a sly grin. "So, we're just going to pretend it didn't happen?"

"What are you talking about?" Henry feigns innocence, though he knows Alex sees right through it.

Rolling his eyes, Alex replies, "The kiss, Henry."

"Oh, that." Henry shrugs nonchalantly. "There's nothing to discuss. And it won't happen again anyway."

Alex remains undeterred, his smile widening. "We'll see about that, Lord Mountchristen-Windsor."

Alex exits the carriage, leaving Henry struggling to contain his amusement.

"You're a demon," He scolds.

Alex laughs, opening his arms, his eyes twinkling under the warm light of the lamppost. “Well, yeah. Literally, actually. But you like that about me.”

And then he has the audacity to wink.

Henry raises an eyebrow. “That is awfully presumptuous of you to assume.”

Alex flashes a knowing grin. "I'll catch you later, your Majesty."

Henry watches him climb the stairs toward his front door, his mind racing with thoughts. After a brief internal struggle, he makes up his mind and calls him back.

“Alex?”

The vampire turns around, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s not common knowledge, for obvious reasons, but…there is a cure. If something ever happens…find Bea or me. Good night, Alex,” he says, shaking the reins lightly to get the horse going, not leaving time for Alex to answer. He doesn’t feel like being subjected to another barrage of questions tonight. 

Henry’s heart races as he guides the carriage through the dimly lit streets, the echo of their exchanged words lingering in his mind. He can’t shake the memory of Alex's playful demeanor, the warmth of his laughter, and the electrifying moment of their kiss. 

His revelation to Alex of a cure for a werewolf bite—even without disclosing its specifics—is not something he shared lightly. It is a close-guarded secret, known only to a select few inside the Slayer community. If this came out, the scandal and repercussions would be unprecedented, with Henry’s whole family at extreme risk.

It won’t happen, though. Despite their acquaintance dating back barely six months and their blossoming friendship a few weeks ago, Henry is not just convinced but unwaveringly believes that he can trust Alex completely.

Once home, he checks on Bea, who’s sleeping soundly, before retreating to his room, washing up, and sliding under the covers. Fitzwilliam settles on his calves, his weight bringing a sense of comfort.

His body still tingles with the memory of the kiss, and he almost feels Alex’s warm breath against his lips again. Euphoria, mixed with desperation, fills his chest, creating a dichotomy that leaves his heart and mind reeling. 

He knows his chance at happiness is within reach. All his life, he has dreamed of finding someone like Alex, the kind of love his parents shared despite the odds stacked against them. It might sound insane since Alex and he haven’t known each other that long, but every cell in his body calls out to the vampire whenever they are around. A yearning to touch his skin, inhale his scent, lose himself in his chocolate eyes, and create a bubble of bliss and peace for just the two of them. He could decide to throw caution to the wind and seize that chance, consequences be damned.

A pained exhale escapes his throat, the previous euphoria replaced by sudden emptiness. 

He’s not allowed to dream like this. 

It would have been lovely, though.

****

Portofino, Italy - April 1912

Henry shuts the front door behind him, eagerly unfolding the telegram just delivered to their villa. A smile graces his lips as he recognizes his sister's name at the bottom.

Ascending to the first floor, he steps into the living room, bathed in the soft glow of morning sunlight pouring through the wide-open French doors. The gentle breeze carries the sweet fragrances of blooming flowers from the garden and the unmistakable scent of the Mediterranean Sea, its turquoise waters sparkling in the distance.

His gaze lands on a photograph of Alex and him, captured at the 1900 World Exhibition. His mind drifts back to a spring in Paris, where they whispered promises of eternity on the second floor of the Eiffel Tower. 

Twelve years later, their vows remain unbroken. 

Nearly twenty-one years have passed since Henry took a leap of faith, falling into Alex’s waiting arms, who caught him effortlessly and has never let go.

Henry steps onto the terrace, joining Alex, clad in scandalously snug shorts that leave little to nothing to the imagination. Despite questioning the point of wearing them, Henry certainly doesn’t complain, especially considering their secluded hillside home, a place blessed with privacy and a stunning view that stretches as far as the eye can see. The view from the terrace is truly breathtaking. They can see Portofino’s old harbor with its traditional Ligurian houses painted in shades of yellow, pink, and orange. 

Contrary to popular vampire depictions, Alex is far from the expected archetype. In fact, with his fair complexion, Henry aligns more closely with the stereotype. Currently basking in the sunlight, Alex embodies the essence of his sun-worshipping Aztec ancestors.

“Was it Bea?” he inquires as he hands Henry a glass of lemonade.

"Yes, she's due here tomorrow morning with Philip and Martha. They made a stop in London to visit Mum. And June mentioned that Percy and Nora will join us in the early afternoon."

Alex grins. "Looks like it's going to be a full house this weekend. I love it."

They had invested in the villa a few years back, envisioning it as a perfect getaway bathed in sunlight, with enough space to accommodate their entire family and circle of friends.

With a smirk, Alex grabs a towel from a nearby lounge chair and drapes it over the terrace stone railing. Then, he pulls Henry close, seating him on it and nestling between his legs, planting a deep kiss on his lips. Henry moans in his mouth as Alex presses his pelvis against his, making his intention clear.

“It seems to me your intentions are less than honorable, Mr Claremont-Diaz.”

"Oh, my intentions are positively scandalous, sweetheart. Consider it a reward."

"A reward for what?"

"For railing me thoroughly through the mattress earlier this morning. Definitely one of the best orgasms of my life.”

Henry smiles, recalling the morning's events vividly: Alex, a delightful wreck, surrendering to him as Henry pinned his wrists above his head and drove into him relentlessly.

Alex brings him back to the present as his hands grasp Henry's shorts and ease them down his leg.

"Leave my shirt on, please," Henry breathes. "I don't want to get a sunburn."

Alex chuckles and slips his hands under Henry's shirt, gliding up and down his back.

He wets his fingers, finding Henry’s hole and circling his rim before gently inserting one finger. Henry emits a soft moan as he wraps his legs around Alex's waist.

"Don't hold back, baby. Let me hear those lovely sounds."

There’s an exhilarating thrill in doing this in broad daylight. Henry tilts his head back, exposing his face to the sun, while Alex lavishes his neck with kisses and gentle nips as his fingers work their magic until Henry can’t take it anymore.

“I’m ready, love,” he pleads, heat spiraling low in his belly as he slowly loses the ability to think and revels in the myriad of sensations brought by Alex”s touch.

Alex pushes down his own shorts and puts his hands under Henry’s ass, lifting him, and Henry sinks on his cock as they both let out strangled, matching groans. They don’t move for a minute, Henry relishing in being filled, surrounded by Alex’s everything - his body, his scent, his dick, his mouth trailing on the sensitive inside of Henry’s elbow as he patiently waits to get the green light to move, which Henry gives him by raising his hips slightly before sinking down once again. 

Alex puts one arm around his waist and lowers Henry onto the towel again, his other hand settling beside him on the railing for support as he starts thrusting. Initially slow and steady, Alex quickens his pace when Henry tugs on his curls, eliciting another low growl from the vampire.

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” Alex stutters as their eyes meet, his gaze full of awe and devotion, vast and unending, brighter than the sun shining on them.

Adjusting his grip, Alex hikes Henry’s leg up, tilting his hips so that on his next thrust, he hits Henry's prostate at just the right angle. Henry’s cock is trapped between their stomachs, creating delicious friction with each push. Alex is so deep now that every movement brings them one tremor closer to an earthquake.

“Oh fuck…Bloody Hell,” Henry cries out. The tension in his gut is tightening, and an overwhelming rush of pleasure steals his breath as his cock jerks, and he comes all over their stomach with a soft laugh. Their lips meet for a messy, passionate kiss, all teeth and tongue, as Alex follows suit, falling over the edge right after him. Henry praises him sweetly, and Alex's erratic movements only intensify the aftershocks of Henry's orgasm.

"I love you," Henry whispers as the last remnants of pleasure course through them. They share another kiss, their heavy breathing gradually slowing. A blinding smile stretches across Alex's mouth.

“I love you more,” he replies, and Henry rolls his eyes fondly at their never-ending debate.  

Alex effortlessly lifts Henry and pulls out, and Henry can’t help but let a small whimper escape at the loss. Alex chuckles softly and moves him to a lounge bed in the shade. After wiping them both with a towel, Alex lies beside him, taking him in his arms, and Henry rests his head on his chest with a contented sigh. They are both sweaty and sticky, but Henry doesn’t care, lost in a post-orgasmic haze. Alex's after-sex scent fills his senses, mingling with his own, its unique fragrance enveloping them in a comforting bubble. Henry lifts his arm, offering his wrist to Alex, who kisses and licks it.  He lets out a soft gasp as Alex's fangs graze his wrist, a shiver running down his spine. The intimacy of the moment deepens as Alex tenderly kisses the spot, sending waves of renewed desire coursing through Henry. He feels the warmth of Alex’s body against his, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest soothing. Henry's breath hitches as Alex's tongue flicks over his pulse point.

Alex looks up, his eyes dark and full of mischief, as if sensing Henry's cock renewed interest."You taste amazing," Alex murmurs against his skin, the words vibrating through Henry.

Slayer and vampire stamina is truly a wonderful thing.

Alex delicately pierces the skin, savoring the taste of blood as Henry moans with pleasure. Alex doesn't indulge much, but once finished, he delicately licks the puncture wound before leaning in for a deep kiss. Henry never ceases to be amazed by the intoxicating coppery flavor of his blood on Alex's tongue.

“When are we supposed to leave?” he asks after a moment, their bubble bursting as he is reminded of their impending departure. 

Alex squints his eyes, still a bit drunk on Henry’s blood. “April 10th…We have to be in Southampton next Monday. We board on Tuesday morning.”

"Could we extend our stay until next Sunday? I'm not eager to return just yet. Would that fit with your work schedule?"

"I'll make it happen, baby if that's what you want,” Alex says, settling them comfortably on the chair for a nice nap. "I'll reach out to the White Star Line about a refund. Can't guarantee they'll approve it, considering it was the ship's maiden voyage."

Henry nods, a small smile playing on his lips as he relaxes into Alex's embrace. "Thank you. It's just... I want a bit more time with you, away from everything.” 

Their mouth locks together again, a chaste kiss only meant to remind them of the bond they share. It is a moment of connection, a silent promise of love. They pull away, but the warmth of that brief touch remains.

“What do you want to do this afternoon?”

“Alex, you just fucked my brains out. I’m not having any coherent thoughts right now.”

“If you are using the word ‘coherent’, I’m not sure I did such a great job. Still, you’re welcome,” he adds with a smug grin. “We should buy one of those fancy automobiles, see the countryside instead of having sex in here all the time.”

Henry snorts. “Indeed, what a chore.” 

Alex’s hand reaches for his, entwining their fingers, and Henry’s eyes trail to his forearm, where a mark lingers. A reminiscence of a haunting night over two decades ago that Henry will never forget, no matter how hard he tries.

Vampires are not supposed to have scars.

“Hey, where did you go?” Alex asks sleepily, sensing the shift in Henry’s mood.

Henry kisses his jaw. “Nowhere, darling. I’m here with you.”

Always.

[orthodoxadventure]

The Meeting of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ in the Temple Commemorated on February 2

Hail, Virgin Theotokos, full of grace; for from you has shone forth the Sun of Righteousness, Christ our God, giving light those in darkness. Be glad, O righteous Elder; for you received in your arms the Redeemer of our souls, Who bestows upon us resurrection.

The Meeting of our Lord God and Savior Jesus Christ is described in the third Gospel (Luke 2:22-40). Forty days after His birth the Divine Child was brought to the Temple at Jerusalem to be presented to the Lord. According to the Law of Moses (Lev. 12:2-8), a woman who gave birth to a male child was forbidden to enter the Temple for forty days. At the end of the time of her purification, the mother went to the Temple with the child, to offer a young lamb, two turtledoves, or pigeons to the Lord as a sacrifice. The Most Holy Virgin had no need of purification, since she had given birth to the Source of purity and sanctity. Out of humility, however, she fulfilled the requirements of the Law.

At this time the righteous Elder Simeon (February 3) was living in Jerusalem. It had been revealed to him that he would not die until he beheld the promised Messiah. By divine inspiration, Saint Simeon went to the Temple at the very moment when the Most Holy Theotokos and Saint Joseph had brought the Child Jesus to fulfill the Law.

Saint Simeon received the divine Child in his arms, and giving thanks to God, he spoke the words repeated by the Church each evening at Vespers: “Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy word, for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation, which Thou hast prepared before the face of all people, a light to enlighten the Gentiles, and the glory of Thy people Israel” (Luke 2:29-32). Saint Simeon said to the Most Holy Virgin: “Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be spoken against. Yea, a sword shall pierce through your own soul also, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed” (Luke 2:34-35).

At the Temple was an 84-year-old widow, Saint Anna the Prophetess, the daughter of Phanuel (February 3), “who did not leave the temple, but served God with fasting and prayers night and day." She arrived just when Saint Simeon met the Divine Child. She also gave thanks to the Lord and spoke of Him to all those who were looking for redemption of Jerusalem” (Luke 2:38). In the icon of the Feast she holds a scroll which reads: “This Child has established Heaven and earth.”

Before Christ was born, the righteous men and women lived by faith in the promised Messiah, and awaited His coming. The Righteous Simeon and the Prophetess Anna, the last righteous persons of the Old Testament, were deemed worthy to meet Him in the Temple.

The Feast of the Meeting of the Lord is among the most ancient feasts of the Christian Church. We have sermons by the holy bishops Methodios of Patara (+ 312), Cyril of Jerusalem (+ 360), Gregory the Theologian (+ 389), Amphilokhios of Iconium (+ 394), Gregory of Nyssa (+ 400), and John Chrysostom (+ 407). Despite its early origin, this Feast was not celebrated so splendidly until the VI century.

In 528, during the reign of Justinian, an earthquake killed many people in Antioch. Other misfortunes followed this one. In 541 a terrible plague broke out in Constantinople, carrying off several thousand people each day. During this time of widespread suffering, a solemn prayer service (Litia) for deliverence from evils was celebrated on the Feast of the Meeting of the Lord, and the plague ceased. Giving thanks to God, the Church established a more solemn celebration of this Feast.

Church hymnographers have adorned this Feast with their hymns: Saint Andrew of Crete in the VII century; Saint Cosmas Bishop of Maium, Saint John of Damascus, and Saint Germanus Patriarch of Constantinople in the VIII century; and Saint Joseph, Archbishop of Thessaloniki in the IX century.

Today we also commemorate the Icon of the Most Holy Theotokos known as “the Softening of Evil Hearts” or “Simeon’s Prophecy.” The Mother of God is depicted without her Child, and seven swords piercing her breast: three from the left side, three from the right, and one from below.

A similar Icon, “Of the Seven Swords” (August 13) shows three swords on the left side and four from the right. The "Softening of Evil Hearts” Is also commemorated on August 13.

The Icon “Simeon’s Prophecy” symbolizes the fulfillment of the prophecy of the righteous Elder Simeon: “a sword shall pierce through your own soul” (Luke 2:35).

In Constantinople, the Emperors would celebrate the Feast Day at the Blakhernae church during the All-Night Vigil. This custom continued until the Fall of the Byzantine Empire.

[Text by OCA]

By Your birth, You sanctified a virginal womb, and fittingly You blessed Simeon’s hands, O Christ God; even now You have saved us by anticipation. Grant peace to Your faithful people whom You have loved, O only Lover of mankind.

[cyberrat]

75th Batch Of Fics: 8th Fill

Cassidy/Hanzo – Part ⅓ (ish) – wolfgod!Hanzo; coyote shapeshifter!Cassidy; young!Cassidy (mid 20s); old!Hanzo (mid 40s); virgin!Cassidy; transman Cassidy – Right what it says on the tin. Just Hanzo being feral and wanting to play with his newest sacrifice...

(reimagining of a little drabble I wrote years ago :) )

---

Hanzo can hear the commotion from a mile away. He stays hidden on top of his little temple, though, idly watching the people from the village coming closer, their path lit by the torches they are carrying and the moon glowing below.

At the very front they have a little creature that is struggling for its life though its words elude Hanzo until they are much closer.

It is begging for its life, its voice cracked and high-pitched from panic. It is trying to reason with them – that it did not mean any harm. That it just wants to get back home – but the villagers are not paying it any heed. They are softly chanting one of the many prayers they have made up for Hanzo.

Out of sight as he is, he sniffs the air. There is the metallic, thick scent of blood, nearly overshadowing the foreign scent of the creature.

He waits until he hears the village people lock it into the stone cage inside his temple. Once the last straggler has hurried out of sight, Hanzo jumps off of his temple and shakes himself before sauntering inside.

He is not in the mood to make the creature wait. He is too intrigued by it. The first sacrifice in quite a while. Oh… and what a sacrifice it is.

Looking at it properly, he can see why the villagers have brought it to him.

“A little shapeshifter,” Hanzo growls softly.

The creature whirls around. It had been in the process of trying to squeeze its scrawny body through the stone bars of its cage but now it is pressing itself against the opposite site, thin chest heaving.

It is caught in a half-transformed state; covered in scraggly fur and with twitching, ripped coyote ears on its head. A tail submissively curved up between its trembling thighs. And there it is – slowly starting to heal over and right on display: the source for the thick scent of blood. The shifter’s left arm has been somehow cut off just above the elbow.

Hanzo moves closer, snout barely poking through into the cage to inhale deeper. He enjoys the scent the little one gives off. So different and spicy and… pure.

“A little shapeshifter,” he repeats with satisfaction. “What is your name?”

The creature just stares at him for a while. It looks on the verge of fainting but eventually whispers, barely audible: “Are you real? Or am I goin’ insane?”

Hanzo’s ears twitch. He slowly lowers himself into a sitting position, steadily watching the shapeshifter. “I am quite real, I assure you.”

The creature is quiet for a while longer. While it does not relax its tail from between its legs, it does slowly move, cradling its no-doubt aching stump in the other arm.

“The name’s Cole,” he says softly. “I don’t mean to do no harm, I swear. Just… let me be on my way. I’ll be outta your hair real quick.”

“With that wound? I doubt it,” Hanzo replies mildly. He watches the shapeshifter fidget around. He looks younger than he is; his voice had given that away now that he hasn’t been begging for his life. He’s just standing there, pale faced, staring at Hanzo with huge eyes.

Waiting for death.

Hanzo leans forward, pushing his large snout through the bars of the cage. “Come here, little one,” he croons. “Extend that stump.”

Cole shakes his head, his tattered ears tilting backwards… but despite his denial, his body follows suit of the God’s quiet demand.

His face twists in desperation, nearly falling over his own long, skinny legs as he tries to stem himself against his own instinct.

In the end, he loses. Of course. He stands there with an expression of denial, his stump extended toward Hanzo. Tears are brimming in his eyes. The hopelessness is radiating off of him.

It’s easy to see that this pup has not had many good things happen to him in his life. Hanzo is intrigued. He does not really do pity, after all.

He stretches his snout through the bars and drags his tongue across the raw stump.

Cole clenches his eyes shut tightly, his teeth grit together. Somehow he manages to press out between them: “I ain’t tastin’ too good. Trust me on that, will ya? God fuck but you’re huge…”

He opens his eyes again just to stare at Hanzo; easily five times the size of a normal wolf. It apparently doesn’t occur to him for a few long moments that the pain from his stump has diminished and is quickly dwindling down into nothing.

When he does notice, he stares at it with confusion, his one hand touching it with trembling fingers. “How…?” he asks softly.

Hanzo’s tongue slides out, licking his chops, large eyes staring unblinkingly at the shapeshifter. He slowly pulls his snout back from between the bars, then starts to stalk around the cage again; getting a look at the bumbling fool inside.

If Cole has been growing up in a pack, it must have been exceptionally bad at communication. Words keep dripping from his lips; an oddly lilting, honeyed speech that Hanzo would like to listen to some more. Later.

He pushes his snout through the bars again, sniffing at the pup’s shoulder. He can’t smell a pack on him. So he must have been wandering alone for quite some time.

Cole jerks away with a low sound of panic, pressing himself against the other side of the cage in his distress. The contraption is not big enough for him to really get out of Hanzo’s radius, but he is at least trying. His scraggly fur stands on edge.

A malnourished, pitiful creature that smells oh so good.

“I don’t taste good, really,” he whines again. Hanzo likes the subservience in his tone. A lot.

“Turn around,” he orders, voice all but purring. He is used to being obeyed… and the shapeshifter is no exception. Eyes clenching shut, his whole body a tight, malnourished line of tension, he follows the Okami’s order and slowly turns around. Hanzo sniffs the back of his head and the nape of his neck, noting how intense the pup smells.

He must have been on the run without a bath for quite some time.

Hanzo rumbles low in his throat, quite enjoying the scent as he drags his nose along the protruding knobs of Cole’s spine… down, down, further down until the fur thickens again just around the coyote’s tail which is so tightly clenched between Cole’s legs that it surely has to hurt.

But ah… how he smells here. Hanzo sniffs him, taking quite a while just to enjoy the scents rushing nice and warm through his nose and over the back of his tongue. He is intrigued.

His hot breath ruffling the shapeshifter’s fur, Hanzo allows himself a few licks of the base of his tail; slow, languid drags of his tongue, wetting the fur and all but eating up the captured prey’s scent.Cole might be insisting that he will taste horrible, but Hanzo knows what will happen tonight. He will eat him whole and make him his.

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Thursday, February 15, 2024

february 2_february 15

THE MEETING OF THE LORD

The Meeting of our Lord God and Savior Jesus Christ is described in the third Gospel (Luke 2:22-40). Forty days after His birth the Divine Child was brought to the Temple at Jerusalem to be presented to the Lord. According to the Law of Moses (Lev. 12:2-8), a woman who gave birth to a male child was forbidden to enter the Temple for forty days. At the end of the time of her purification, the mother went to the Temple with the child, to offer a young lamb, two turtledoves, or pigeons to the Lord as a sacrifice. The Most Holy Virgin had no need of purification, since she had given birth to the Source of purity and sanctity. Out of humility, however, she fulfilled the requirements of the Law.

At this time the righteous Elder Simeon (February 3) was living in Jerusalem. It had been revealed to him that he would not die until he beheld the promised Messiah. By divine inspiration, Saint Simeon went to the Temple at the very moment when the Most Holy Theotokos and Saint Joseph had brought the Child Jesus to fulfill the Law.

Saint Simeon received the divine Child in his arms,1 and giving thanks to God, he spoke the words repeated by the Church each evening at Vespers: “Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy word, for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation, which Thou hast prepared before the face of all people, a light to enlighten the Gentiles, and the glory of Thy people Israel” (Luke 2:29-32). Saint Simeon said to the Most Holy Virgin: “Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be spoken against. Yea, a sword shall pierce through your own soul also, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed” (Luke 2:34-35).

At the Temple was an 84-year-old widow, Saint Anna the Prophetess, the daughter of Phanuel (February 3), “who did not leave the temple, but served God with fasting and prayers night and day." She arrived just when Saint Simeon met the Divine Child. She also gave thanks to the Lord and spoke of Him to all those who were looking for redemption of Jerusalem” (Luke 2:38). In the icon of the Feast she holds a scroll which reads: “This Child has established Heaven and earth.”

Before Christ was born, the righteous men and women lived by faith in the promised Messiah, and awaited His coming. The Righteous Simeon and the Prophetess Anna, the last righteous persons of the Old Testament, were deemed worthy to meet Him in the Temple.

The Feast of the Meeting of the Lord is among the most ancient feasts of the Christian Church. We have sermons by the holy bishops Methodios of Patara (+ 312), Cyril of Jerusalem (+ 360), Gregory the Theologian (+ 389), Amphilokhios of Iconium (+ 394), Gregory of Nyssa (+ 400), and John Chrysostom (+ 407). Despite its early origin, this Feast was not celebrated so splendidly until the VI century.

In 528, during the reign of Justinian, an earthquake killed many people in Antioch. Other misfortunes followed this one. In 541 a terrible plague broke out in Constantinople, carrying off several thousand people each day. During this time of widespread suffering, a solemn prayer service (Litia) for deliverence from evils was celebrated on the Feast of the Meeting of the Lord, and the plague ceased. Giving thanks to God, the Church established a more solemn celebration of this Feast.

Church hymnographers have adorned this Feast with their hymns: Saint Andrew of Crete in the VII century; Saint Cosmas Bishop of Maium, Saint John of Damascus, and Saint Germanus Patriarch of Constantinople in the VIII century; and Saint Joseph, Archbishop of Thessaloniki in the IX century.

Today we also commemorate the Icon of the Most Holy Theotokos known as “the Softening of Evil Hearts” or “Simeon’s Prophecy.” The Mother of God is depicted without her Child, and seven swords piercing her breast: three from the left side, three from the right, and one from below.

A similar Icon, “Of the Seven Swords” (August 13) shows three swords on the left side and four from the right. The "Softening of Evil Hearts” Is also commemorated on August 13.

The Icon “Simeon’s Prophecy” symbolizes the fulfillment of the prophecy of the righteous Elder Simeon: “a sword shall pierce through your own soul” (Luke 2:35).

In Constantinople, the Emperors would celebrate the Feast Day at the Blakhernae church during the All-Night Vigil. This custom continued until the Fall of the Byzantine Empire.

1 For this reason, he is known as the God-Receiver (Θεοδόχος).

HEBREWS 7:7-17

7 Now beyond all contradiction the lesser is blessed by the better. 8 Here mortal men receive tithes, but there he receives them, of whom it is witnessed that he lives. 9 Even Levi, who receives tithes, paid tithes through Abraham, so to speak, 10 for he was still in the loins of his father when Melchizedek met him. 11 Therefore, if perfection were through the Levitical priesthood (for under it the people received the law), what further need was there that another priest should rise according to the order of Melchizedek, and not be called according to the order of Aaron 12 For the priesthood being changed, of necessity there is also a change of the law. 13 For He of whom these things are spoken belongs to another tribe, from which no man has officiated at the altar. 14 For it is evident that our Lord arose from Judah, of which tribe Moses spoke nothing concerning priesthood. 15 And it is yet far more evident if, in the likeness of Melchizedek, there arises another priest 16 who has come, not according to the law of a fleshly commandment, but according to the power of an endless life. 17 For He testifies:"You are a priest forever According to the order of Melchizedek."

LUKE 2:22-40

22 Now when the days of her purification according to the law of Moses were completed, they brought Him to Jerusalem to present Him to the Lord 23 (as it is written in the law of the Lord, "Every male who opens the womb shall be called holy to the LORD"), 24 and to offer a sacrifice according to what is said in the law of the Lord, "A pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons." 25 And behold, there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon, and this man was just and devout, waiting for the Consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. 26 And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Christ. 27 So he came by the Spirit into the temple. And when the parents brought in the Child Jesus, to do for Him according to the custom of the law, 28 he took Him up in his arms and blessed God and said: 29 Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace, According to Your word; 30 For my eyes have seen Your salvation 31 Which You have prepared before the face of all peoples, 32 A light to bring revelation to the Gentiles, And the glory of Your people Israel." 33 And Joseph and His mother marveled at those things which were spoken of Him. 34 Then Simeon blessed them, and said to Mary His mother, "Behold, this Child is destined for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign which will be spoken against 35 (yes, a sword will pierce through your own soul also), that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed. 36 Now there was one, Anna, a prophetess, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, and had lived with a husband seven years from her virginity; 37 and this woman was a widow of about eighty-four years, who did not depart from the temple, but served God with fastings and prayers night and day. 38 And coming in that instant she gave thanks to the Lord, and spoke of Him to all those who looked for redemption in Jerusalem. 39 So when they had performed all things according to the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own city, Nazareth. 40 And the Child grew and became strong in spirit, filled with wisdom; and the grace of God was upon Him.

[itsallmadonnasfault]

Starting at the end of this year, it will be the pop superstar’s first ever compilation tour, featuring all her best-known numbers.

She hinted in an interview with Variety magazine last year that she was keen to get on the road again.

Now she has held a series of meetings with American director Jamie King, 51, who has masterminded her productions since 2001.

Last night a source said: “Madonna is trying something completely new — and really giving fans, young and old, what they want.

“She wants to capitalise on tracks like Frozen and Material Girl popping off on TikTok, and introduce her back catalogue to an entirely new generation.

“Previously she has always wanted to be forward-facing and focus on whatever new album she’s plugging. But now, in her mid-sixties, she is going back to basics and once again reinventing herself.

“That being said, it is sure to be no holds barred and suitably risqué.

“Her last Madame X tour was in small theatres, but this one will be in stadiums, with the O2 already confirmed. It’s massively exciting.”

The US superstar has been planning the shows for several months.

She last performed at the O2 in 2015 on her Rebel Heart tour — and famously took a tumble on stage there that year at the Brit Awards.

Last July, Madonna told how she was eager to perform again, saying: “I want to go on tour again. I’m a creature of the stage. That is my happy place.”

Her Madame X tour in 2019 and 2020 saw her play 75 intimate shows at theatres around the world.

But she was forced to cancel several dates due to recurring hip and knee injuries.

This year marks 40 years since Madonna first entered the US Billboard Hot 100 with Holiday in 1983.

The following year she got her first US No1 with Like a Virgin.

Her first No1 in the UK came in 1985 with Into the Groove.

Madonna is famed for reinventing herself — and for shocking audiences. She famously angered the Catholic Church in 1990 after simulating masturbation on stage during a song, with the Pope calling for a boycott of her Blond Ambition tour.

And in 2006 she was criticised by the Church of England for staging a mock crucifixion during her Confessions tour in LA.

She defended herself saying: “Jesus wouldn’t have minded.”

[boricuacherry-blog]

Fleiss says she doesn't miss those days. "I was 22, 25, at the time? It was fun then, but now I wouldn't want to deal with all that bullshit - the girls and blah, blah, blah. But the money was really good."

Fleiss is a businesswoman, a hustler, and has always had a talent for noticing a corner of the market - any market - that has failed to be exploited. When at the age of 15 she worked for a florist, Fleiss was sent to sell 40 roses for $5 each at a Julio Iglesias concert and dutifully returned $200 to the shop. The following day she went to the flower market in downtown LA and was back at the next concert with 200 roses that she sold for $10 a stem, pocketing the profits. "I just pick up a hustle really easily," she tells me.

Heidi grew up, one of six children, in Los Feliz, a middle-class section of Los Angeles. Her father was a prominent pediatrician and her mother taught elementary school. Heidi was a terrible student and took the G.E.D. when she was 16. "I lied to my parents for a year and told them I was going to school," she remembers. "I goofed around instead. I was restless as hell."

Mostly she hung out at the beach and the Santa Anita racetrack. She liked to gamble.

As a 19-year-old waitress, Fleiss met a local 60-year-old billionaire called Bernie Cornfeld, 'who looked like Santa Claus.' Fleiss worked for him briefly and then became his lover. For the next four years she traveled with him to Europe and lived with him for several months on Grand Bahama Island in a penthouse once owned by Howard Hughes. "I told my parents I was his secretary," she explains. "Bernie was my first real relationship. I didn't lose my virginity until I was almost 18. But Bernie's and my relationship started falling apart in the Bahamas. He couldn't be monogamous."

"Paul Fleiss [Heidi's father] preferred to be blind because his daughter was dating Bernie Cornfeld, a 60-year-old man," says a source close to Heidi. "He was shocked when he found out his daughter was a madam. All those years, he thought Heidi was selling real estate."

She grew restless in the Bahamas and decided to return to Los Angeles and get rich on her own. Unfortunately, it was at this point in her life that she met and started dating Ivan Nagy, who had been convicted for illegal bookmarking and was nearly 30 years her senior. "I think that Heidi wanted to try her wings pretty early, and I think that she met some people who sort of took all her potential and gave it a sharp turn," Fleiss's mother, Elissa, a schoolteacher, said in a 1995 BBC documentary about her daughter.

Nagy introduced Fleiss to the reigning queen of sex-for-sale in Hollywood, Elizabeth 'Madam Alex' Adams. "She knew nothing," Adams says in the film, which was shot during Fleiss's trial. "She was like a little parrot who repeated what she was suppose to say."

With Nagy's encouragement, Fleiss joined Adams's staff, turning tricks for a year and a half and learning the business. Then Fleiss saw an opportunity. Between the contracts she had made through Adams and the wildly wealthy people she'd met in her time with Cornfeld, she put together a competing prostitution ring. Fleiss was determined to bring a previously unheard-of level of discretion and cachet to LA prostitution, and a for a while she did. Her clients were 'the richest in the world,' she says. They knew that there would never be a hassle or a disappointment. Charlie Sheen, one of the few clients of Fleiss whose identity was revealed during her trial (not by Fleiss herself), said at the time that when you pay for a hooker you're not paying for sex; you're paying for her to leave when you're finished. Fleiss has said that many other notable celebrities used her services, but she has always declined to name them.

Fleiss has seen a lot of the ugliness that can follow sexual relationships, particularly from men. After she was busted by the police in 1993 and put on charges of pandering and possessing cocaine for sale, it came out in court transcripts that Nagy was one of the people who'd informed on her. He'd become jealous of her success and was attempting to start his own business.

Fleiss is convinced that there are plenty of women - women like her - who have lost patience with romance and want to get in and out of sex with the kind of expedience only money can buy.

I wonder why Fleiss doesn't just do something with birds for a living, and ask what it is she finds so compelling about the sex industry. She gives a little snort. "I don't like anything about the sex business," she says. "It's just something I know."

[lunatic-harness]

nothing makes me feel more of a virgin than fps movement games like. i can think about retro games and hardware hacking and other nerdy shit and still be self confident, sure, but as soon as i think about quake 3 defrag or source bhop or god forbid q2jump i immediately imagine myself as a 40 year old neckbeard wizard who has never had sex ever

[crystal-in-nagasaki]

minami shimabara's very own virgin mary

While on a trip to Minami Shimabara this spring to visit friends, a local man invited us to the unveiling of something that I imagine will eventually become a huge tourist attraction for Christian travellers. This is the Saint Mary Kannon of Hara Castle, called 原城の聖マリア観音 in Japanese.

This statue was created by sculptor Eiji Oyamatsu, a now almost 90-year old man over the course of about 40 years. He is a Christian Japanese man who wanted to create a memorial to the victims of the Shimabara rebellion.

(image source)

As I've mentioned before, due to the heavy amount of Western influence in Nagasaki during and before the Edo period, many Japanese people converted to Christianity. During the isolated Edo period, the Shogunate decided to outlaw Christianity and many believers living in Shimabara launched a rebellion against the government at the site of Hara castle. (The rebellion was not fully due to the persecution of Christians, but also involved several other factors like the raising of taxes and the Shogunate's overall oppressive rule.) The rebellion was crushed by the Shogunate and 37,000 rebels were executed. There is a memorial cross monument at the site of Hara castle to memorialize the victims, but after a visit to Nagasaki by the Pope in 1981 in which he talked about the persecution of Christians in Japanese history, Mr. Oyamatsu became inspired to create the Mary statue as a grand tribute.

(image source)

The large wooden Mary statue, currently one of the largest wooden statues in the world, was made using a special technique of carving large hollowed out rings of 200 year old camphor trees stacked on each other. Here are some pictures of the sculpting process taken from the official website. The statue stands at 10 meters (~33 ft) tall and 2.5 meters (~8 ft) in width.

Creating this statue took almost 40 years. This is not just because of the scale and detail put into the statue, but because Mr. Oyamatsu struggled for a long time to receive funding for the project and put 15 million yen (about 100,000 USD) of his own money into it.

In 2014, Mr. Oyamatsu requested funding from the city government of Minami Shimabara to transport the statue and renovate a memorial building to house it. He offered the statue as a donation to the city and wanted it to become a World Heritage Site, which would bring many tourists to Minami Shimabara. At first the city was very interested in the proposal since it would bring international attention and tourism to the area, but some citizens complained that giving government money to the project would be a violation of the separation of church and state, and in the end the proposal was rejected. Mr. Oyamatsu was very disappointed. He expressed that the statue would be an important monument reflecting the history of the region, and not just a religious artifact.

And so the process slowly dragged on as most of the funding has come from personal donations. Finally in 2022, the statue was transported from Kanagawa prefecture, the birthplace of Mr. Oyamatsu where it was built, to Minami Shimabara. From there they put the pieces of the statue back together and began renovating the building that would house it. In late March of 2023, the building finally opened to visitors, and I first visited on April 2nd.

The building is a bit small, located on a cliffside overlooking the water. It was a breathtaking place to have such a grand cultural monument.

Inside the building we finally got a glimpse of the statue. It was huge, but made with intricate detail. It reminded me of Japanese Buddha statues, and I felt a heavy spiritual presence in the air of the building. The style of the statue was very interesting, with a peaceful face that is reminiscent of enlightened buddha statues. I love that a Western figure had been interpreted into a Japanese art style. The name of the statue also includes the word Kannon, which is the Buddhist deity for compassion. Interestingly, Christianity and Buddhism have been intertwined in the making of the statue, as Mary is deified as a Kannon.

A man from the Minami Shimabara Citizens Association gave us a warm welcome and took us on a tour of the statue, telling us its history and the struggles it faced to get where it is today. He was very kind and informative, and I was so grateful to learn about Shimabara's history from him. He also took us around the back of the sculpture and showed us the hollow interior of the statue, as well as the sculptor's signature.

He also told us about the lack of funding for the project and how there is still a lot that is unfinished. They would like to continue to renovate the building, expand its size, and add bathrooms. The Citizens Association has worked hard and will continue to work hard to turn the small chapel on the cliffside into a world-famous heritage site for Christians and lovers of history alike.

As of now, the website has tallied a total of about 50 million yen (~350k USD) in donations of their 100 million yen goal. With this money, they can continue to expand the building housing the sculpture and turn the site into a more accessible tourism spot.

I was really moved by the beauty and story of this statue. While I am also a staunch defender of the separation of church and state, I think that this statue memorializes an important part of Japanese history and should be protected. After all, much of the world's most beautiful pieces of art are of religious subject matter. Who are we to deny the creation of beautiful works of art based on beliefs that may be different from ours?

If you would like to learn more about the statue and how it was made, you can visit the page here. It's in Japanese, but you can use the translate function in your browser to translate it into English. If you are also interested in donating to help renovate the building, you can do so here.

I hope this work of art can reach a wider audience and the artist receives the appreciation he deserves for his many years of dedicated work.

Thank you for reading <3

[waitingformyfavoritesongs]

12:16 am pt 31 may 2023 Wednesday

After I saw Scott wrote on his Facebook that I’m a whore, in that moment in I think July 2010, I decided I was going to be celibate until I found the right man. I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t a whore. Words can be empty and meaningless when they’re lies. I really didn’t want to be a whore. 12:19 am pt but now that I’m falling apart, I wish now that I was! Even more!!!!! 12:20 am pt

12:21 am pt my aunt who had a baby at age 42? She said she was a virgin until she got married. She even said in 2015 that she wish she wasn’t a virgin. 12:22 am pt mayb being a virgin runs in the family? My mom’s first pregnancy resulted from being black out drunk. And she was always working up until that party, her whole life. She said she usually got in trouble with her mom if she ever tried to sneak out to have fun. She always had that bad luck, but all her siblings got to sneak out and not get caught. 12:24 am pt

12:25 am pt except I got the Saint Lucia/Mickey mouse toy curse.

12:44 am pt incubus miñions are my neighbors. They’re making the place shake a lot more louder than me. It sounds like maybe they’re jumping. Angryly. Destruction of buildings seems to be in their job descriptions. 12:46 am pt

12:47 am pt a lot of women stay in abusive relationships Bcz incubus makes them stupid enough to stay. And then they die. 12:48 am pt I was stupid to see Scott again in 2007, and 2010.

12:49 am pt incubus miñion warned me all men are heinous. All including Scott Cano? I guess????? & unfortunately I guess incubus then, too. 12:50 am pt it’s unfortunate that he thought it was ok to pretend he was my husband and then burn me almost to death many times to say NOT! I probably am nearly dead inside. 😞😤🥵😖😭 at least I tried to like whoever I was with. It wasn’t a joke I was playing on anyone. But he didn’t want to understand or see it that way. It seems now. 12:54 am pt

12:55 am pt oh I’m making that assumption Bcz I found Hanes men underwear 🩲 in my room. 12:56 am pt

1:26 am pt I’m thinking now maybe 🤔 he did understand but he was going to pretend he doesn’t understand Bcz he doesn’t like me and he wants me dead ☠️. 1:27 am pt

This has gone way too far. I think the world 🌎 will never change. And if men really like to rape 11 year olds then why and how would it stop 🛑 if that’s who they naturally are? 1:29 am pt me, I can argue that a lot of unnatural things were done to me. So unnatural results occurred. 1:29 am pt

2:40 am pt anatomy I think 💭 has to do with the shapes of structures like bones 🦴 and organs? Physiology I think 💭 has to do with function of those structures. If woman cannot rape man Bcz she “can’t make love to a bush” an unerect p*nis, then rape is inherently a man/male only trait. Kissing and touching leads to s*x, so a predatory male who wants to have s*x is more probable to initiate those actions to get to the s*x/rape. 2:44 am pt

2:48 am pt therefore desires/hormones would have to be traced back to the source donor. To really eradicate the problem. 2:49 am pt therefore truly a man would have to pay the price. 2:49 am pt

3 am pt I have been seeing headlines of weird cases online.

4:27 am pt when an incubus touches a woman 👩🏼 in an intimate way, don’t be fooled. They only want you to not arrest them for their s*x crimes. 4:28 am pt they want you to stay quiet 🤐.

4:29 am pt when an incubus tells you he loves you, it’s a lie. He might as well be holding up a mirror 🪞 and telling it to himself. He will only love 💕 himself. 4:30 🕟 am pt

4:39 am pt I feel pain in my throat that is probably a hole 🕳 from being eaten by acid repeatedly. The incubus/miñion, when I had my eyes closed, put his or her mouth 👄 on my neck under chin area and closed their mouth 👄 sliding it shut. So it felt intimate. And they’ve been doing this to me forget how long probably at least a whole month. So, if they do that to you, beware. It’s not a good sign 🪧. They all lie about love 💕. Like David Scott cano, and they are “bros.” Guilty by association. Birds of a feather flock together. 4:42 am pt “Brendan” wanted to buy me airplane tickets 🎫 when I was 16 years old to see him to have s*x with him, back in 2001. So Bcz they’re “bros”, best friends, we have to suspect cano does the same thing. In 2010 after I saw Scott again, I got a phone call ☎️ from a private number. She said she was a friend of a friend of a friend etc of scott. She told me a friend of his also did that sudden no condom s*x thing, cat hair thing?, to someone. She seemed to be telling me Bcz it seemed to be trending among his friends. Sometime we see in movies guys try to do bets. They try to out do the other. 4:47 pmpt 4:48 pm pt. I’m guessing this person heard me getting upset at Scott when I complained about taking plan b. 4:48 am pt

4:53 am pt this thing is never going to be over. I can tell. Bcz I’m dying 😵. 4:56 am pt I realized this now, that neighborhood is very quiet. I don’t recall hearing anyone around. Probably could hear a pin drop from the other side of the street. The only thing Scott complained about were the sound of birds in the morning. 4:57 am pt

5:19 am pt incubus protects other rapists. And he likes to kill women he had s-*x with. So, it makes sense that he would mess with a woman 👩🏼 zombify her to make her do things that she wouldn’t normally do but is characteristic of .... 5:21 am pt

5:22 am pt Scott had a friend named Marisa. She seemed to have a crush on him and they knew each other probably since high school 🏫. He seemed to start messing with her after he stopped seeing me, and b4 Courtney. I’m not sure but I think 💭 he was using her for something and wasn’t genuine when he started hanging out with her. I had took her shopping at a little grocery store 🏬. She probably showed him which store 🏬. She wrote on Facebook “hanging out with a brother from another mother.” And she posted a picture of herself blushing 😊. I read online blushing is a sign 🪧 a girl likes you. It was probably for Scott. Then on his wall after he seemed to pull away from her she wrote Scott likes boobies. It was basically a tactic to try to get attention. About a year later she got a new boyfriend and wrote she was so thankful she found someone who didn’t have something wrong with him. I think 💭 he hurt Marisa. And set her up for disappointment. 5:27 am pt

5:52 am pt guys like an easy loose girl for themselves but not for anyone else. 5:53 am pt

I5:55 am pt Scott probably touched Marisa’s boobs. A guess. 5:56 am pt

11:09 am pt the incubus is willing to hurt me this much for things he tricked me into doing. He is willing to change (lie) about the past (autocorrect acid 11:11 hot acid? Butt pain). Example: my drawings. Pictures of my face.to show me that he doesn’t care or he doesn’t want people to know that he told Nick v/b I was a whore and he probably used me. And probably use it psychologically to break me down by losing the opportunity to date someone I started liking too late. I think 💭 Adam Noah Levine is dishonest and dishonorable. I think 💭 he’s embracing who he really is when he tortures and kills me and hides truth from me. 11:17 am pt

3:57 pmpt I think 💭 i figured it out: when a man 👨 asks to have s*x with you, and he hasn’t said: I love 💕 you be my girlfriend/wife - it probably means he has already decided you aren’t the one ☝️ for him to marry, he’s going to stop 🛑 seeing you soon 🔜, and he’s going to try to get whatever he can from you (acid mouth 👄 pain 4 pm) for instant gratification to hold him off? Until the next interested girl shows up 🆙. He already decided you’re a whore. 4:01 pmpt

4:02 pmpt stop 🛑 trying to like him to see if he could potentially be your husband. It’s the end. Either you enjoy the s*x and acknowledge to yourself this is the end reallly of dating this guy, or you go back home 🏠. Know that this is highly probably the case. I formerly heard if a guy really likes you he’s careful about how far he goes with how soon 🔜 like Heath ledger in 10 things I hate about you. 4:05 pmpt

6:52 pmpt I didn’t touch the skin of children. They tend to touch anything and sometimes they are covered in snot and anything germy 🦠. Even at work when the eczema got bad on my hands 🙌 I wore gloves 🧤. The skin of my hands 🙌 got very dry easily Bcz I washed my hands a lot. I was ocd about it sometimes especially if I had to fold laundry 🧺. Maybe other things too like when preparing food 🍲. Ever since high school 🏫 probably senior year it was especially troublesome. It started out like that in elementary school 🏫 when the eczema started when I was 8 years old. I had an episode of washing my hands 🙌 a lot Bcz it was already dry and I had the misconception that washing it would rehydrate it/moisturize it. A momentary misconception. 6:58 pmpt

7:03 pmpt I was prescribed medication for my eczema every year since I was 8 years old for my eczema. My first boyfriend was very clean 🧼 and conscientious probably about hygiene 🪥 with the exception of his pillow for some reason (I complained about it). But that’s the only thing I probably ever complained about. He was half Asian and wanted to be Japanese I guess even though he wasn’t. He liked anime and took Japanese language classes and karate 🥋 and a holistic medicine class. He was allergic to cats 🐈 but they had a cat 🐱. But she could never come into his room. 7:08 pmpt

[bollywood143114]

This popular TV daughter-in-law is a real-life virgin, a single mother

After 40 Unmarried Actresses: People's lifestyle is also changing with time. In such circumstances, women are more successful than men in the 21st century. This is why women today are focusing more on their careers instead of settling down. In this case, if we talk about successful actresses in television industry, let's say there are 5 superhit daughters-in-law of TV industry, who have crossed the age of 40 but are not married yet. What's special is that this list includes one name of TV's top daughter-in-law, who has become a mother of 1 child out of wedlock. Let's talk about the lifestyle of these actresses in such circumstances. Meghna Malik Meghna Malik, who plays Amma Ji in TV's top TRP serials like 'Na Ana Is Desh Meri Lado', is not dependent on any contacts. Apart from serials, Meghna Malik has also worked in top films like Chanta Chanta, Kuch Na Kaho, Tare Zameen Par. Meghna Malik has crossed 50 years, but till now she has not found the true soul of her life. Witness Tanwar Sakshi Tanwar, who left her mark in every household with the serial 'Bade Ache Lagate Hai', is the top actress in the industry. Apart from daily soaps, Sakshi Tanwar has also worked in films. Witness is 49 years old and single. But say, in 2018 she became a mother of 1 child. In fact he legally adopted this girl. Now she lives with her only child and she too is planning to settle down with him. In such a situation, it would not be wrong to say that Sakshi is not thinking about Tanwa's marriage at all. Shilpa Shinde Anguri Bhabhi aka Shilpa Shinde needs no introduction. Shilpa Shinde is a known face in the television industry. In 2001, she entered the acting world with the serial Kain Na Aye Judai. After that, she made recurring appearances in many serials like Amrapali, Tum Bin Jaon Kahan, Andhi, Bhabhi Ji Ghar Par Hai. Please tell that Shilpa Shinde is also the winner of Bigg Boss 11 and she has no plans of marriage as of now. However, once the preparations for her wedding started at the actress's home, the engagement took place, but suddenly the news of the marriage break-up came into the limelight and her relationship with Ramit Raj came to an end. Neither of them revealed the reason. Jaya Bhattacharya Jaya Bhattacharya, who played the role of mother-in-law in Thapki Pyaar Ki, is also on the list. Jaya is 44 years old and still single. At the same time, there is no plan for their marriage. Tell me, Jaya has appeared in many top TRP serials in the television industry. These include Silsila Badalte Rishtan Ka, Thapki Pyaar Ki, Kasam Se, Bado Bahu, Pinjara, Sundari. She has also acted in several films including Lajya, Devdas, Jigyasa, Ek Biye Emni. Neha Mehta Neha Mehta, who played Mehta Sahib's wife Anjali Mehta in Taarak Mehta Ka Oolta Chashma, has turned 44. Everyone knows and knows Neha Mehta by this name. This actress is not married yet. Let me tell you that Neha Mehta made her acting debut in 2001. She has so far appeared in top serials like Janmo Janma, EMI and Better Half. Although in real sense she got recognition from Tarak Mehta's Anjali. DISCLAIMER Thanks For Visit Our Site www.bollywoodofindia.com . We’ve taken all measures to insure that the information handed in this composition and on our social media platform is believable, vindicated and sourced from other Big media Houses. For any feedback or complaint, reach out to us at bollywoodofindiaa@gmail.com Read the full article

[laughable-lion-king-art]

Woke up this morning from my "Woke-up-too-early" crash nap to learn that this asshole deactivated!

I also heard through an undisclosed source who shall remain anonymous, that this 40 year old bullied someone into suicidal acts. Thankfully, that person is safe, but they've deactivated to destress and rest their mental health, and I wish them the best in their recovery!

But it's gross that this 40 year old virgin weaponized children this way into defending his so-called "satire," when it's straight up bullying. They have a lot of growing and apologies to do.

Let us hope Vix stays gone and does some self analyzing himself. Because labeling every hate fueled deviation with, "I hate X and I can take your criticism, it's okay if you like X!" is not a proper shield for your shitty behavior. You're gonna quickly find that actions have consequences like Vix.

Targeting fans now? The last time I brought this guy up, I caved, deleted the post and regret it. This time, they can eat shit for targeting fans for having harmless fun.

This is not satire, this is bullying. Satire is supposed to be funny, but this guy is acting like a fandom anti. And their idea of satire is not funny. They still claim they can take the opinions, but after what happened last time, they're just a pussy at the end of the day like all fandom antis. They ain't got a spine and need to grow one.

Dumbass doesn't understand how grid adopts work, either. They're not official ships, dipshit. They're character creation ideas you buy from the artists for a new oc to do what you will with it after purchase. Goddamn, grow a spine and a brain.

[lesbian-deadpool]

Y/N, to Bruce: First of all, you’re throwing too many big words at me. Because I don’t understand them, I’m gonna take them as disrespect.

[incorrect-hgs]

Sage: I’m done with boys.

Sage: I mean, I haven’t even started with them, but I’m done.