#mr. agnostic

[afraidofchange]

Ilona is the chaotic latke enjoyer who will not just have applesauce or sour cream on hers, but both. At the same time.

[fantasy-frog]

the lord is testing me

[hashtagmeatmarket]

My ass is SEATED

[definitely-not-an-alb]

I seriously need to go to the theatre more, for one because it always rewires my brain in the best possible way, for two because my local professional actors deserve better than to constantly have to play pieces about social revolution to the stuffiest, bougiest part of my town

[kintatsujo]

"Jerma" sounds like something you would name your pet hamster I'm not gonna lie

[free-luigi-mangione]

hi queen sorry to be the bearer of bad news but the feds have officially submitted a motion stating they are seeking the DP.

i already cussed them out once but im gonna add to it. not only are the feds fucking assholes, they are spineless, incompetent, and weak people. they should be ashamed by these actions that are a feeble and cowardice attempt to pretend they uphold justice in the name of a politically tyrannical and fascist government. to act so brazenly in their response to karens motion, only to sloppily pursue the DP shows they are snakes and they have no dignity.

on a more positive note: many lawyers online have said the motion is badly written/weak and i think the hubris of the prosecution will ultimately be their downfall. the people of NY will not sentence him to death, i am certain of that. avi is also a highly skilled attorney in this field and im sure he will be contributing his expertise to the teams defence.

im not a religious person but sending his family and friends good vibes, i can only imagine how devestated they are.

-🧪

i can't wait for all of the prosecution's dirty tricks to ultimately end up causing their downfall

[gallusrostromegalus]

In honor of the season, what are holidays like in the spirit world? Have they been infected by Christmas yet? I imagine they inherit some popular ones from the world of the living, but also the unique holidays of the afterlife must be wild.

You come to me, on the eve of the High Holiday of Halloween, and ask me about Christmas??

I'm kidding, you're asking about holidays in general but my unsuspecting Agnostic Ass just got jumpscared by Mariah Carey, and I'm sensitive. It's not the season. Not for another 48 hours at least. Do Not Violate The Sacred Treaty.

.

..

...

Anyway, this ended up in my drafts for a few days, so: Christianity has not really gotten a foothold in soul society, but via cultural osmosis "Xmas" has. Nobody in a Shinto afterlife believes in monotheism, but they love a holiday and a Saint is practically a Kami anyway, but.... It's "Xmas" because the holiday in no way remotely resembles Christmas as practiced in the living world.

---

Scene: 4th Division hospital, a few days after Rukia is rescued and Aizen departed for Las Noches:

"-CHAD!!" Ichigo bellows, almost falling in through the doorway of the hospital room, wheezing.

"I am very sure you are not supposed to be out of bed." Chad frowned, looking up from the copy of the history of soul society Captain Komamura had lent him to read while he recovered.

It was strange, to be in the care of the very people he had thought to be senseless killers not two weeks ago, but he was finding the Shinigami a generally agreeable lot. Even if the captain that controlled the hospital reminded him unpleasantly of a nun with her chaste dress, soft voice and understated but constant threat of violence.

"YOU NEED YO HEAR THIS-! He- hee-" Ichigo stumbled over to his bed and curled up on his side overcome with giggles.

"... I'm beginning to think I am incorrect." Sighed the pale-haired man at the door, frowning down at Ichigo.

"Jushiro Ukitake, I don't think I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance yet, Mr.-?" The man introduced himself and offered Chad a hand.

"Uh. Yasutora. Sado Yasutora. But everyone calls me Chad." He mumbled, cautiously shaking hands with the stranger. "You're um. You're Miss Rukia 's boss, right?"

"Yes! I believe you are her friend with the pet parakeet and good throwing arm, yes?" Ukitake beamed at him and Chad was suddenly struck by the idea that he'd seen Ukitake at a family reunion before - Impossible, obviously, but the man had the intense aura of a distant uncle. "Good show that, she loves being hurled at an opponent!"

"Oh. Thank you." Chad mumbled, Ichigo finally catching his breath. "...What are you incorrect about?"

"Christmas, apparently." Ukitake frowned, and Ichigo dissolved into snickering again. "He says you're something of an expert on the actual mythology, I only have third-hand accounts, you see-"

"No!" Gasped Ichigo, reaching over to tug at Mr. Ukitake's sleeve. "You gotta tell him!"

"I am Catholic, yes." Chad nodded. "-go on. It can't be less accurate than the version Dr. Kurosaki- Uh, Ichigo's dad- gave me last year."

"Yeah it can-" Ichigo wheezed.

"Well, ah- Christmas is a birthday celebration for an important religious figure, right?" Ukitake tried.

"Yep!" Chad nodded, giving Ukitake a thumbs up.

"The birth of Rudolph, the Star-nosed reindeer?" Ukitake tried.

Chad stared at him blankly for a moment, before his thumbs-up slowly wilted into a thumbs down and Ichigo vibrated silently with hysterics. Chad opened and closed his mouth a few times, hand waving, then covered his mouth, searching for words. Eventually he reached out and gently put his hand on the captain's shoulder to explain as delicately as possible-

"...No." Said Chad.

Ichigo rolled off the bed with a dull thud.

"-I am, however, fascinated." Chad elaborated. "Please continue."

"...I'm really sorry that I am this ignorant of your religious dogma." Ukitake winced.

"It's- don't worry about it. Tell me what you think happens on Rudolph's birthday." Chad said, sitting back and pressing his hands together.

"Well- oh, how does it start? Right- there's the Monks- Saints? that give out presents to well-behaved children during the winter holidays- Saint Claus, Saint Nicolas and Saint Kringle. And they're all very old men, and with good judgement about who does and does not deserve presents, so they're called the three wise men!"

Ichigo made a noise like a teakettle from the floor.

"Oh. Oh no." Chad giggled.

"And they travel the entire world giving out presents, but that's A Lot of houses and it was taking them longer and longer so they prayed to... I forget the name Catholics have for Amaterasu. Guadalupe?"

Chad made a noise not unlike a violently squeezing a rubber duck, and started to shake.

"-So they pray for some help getting all the presents to the children, and Whoever She Is says they're doing good deeds, but she wants to see if they're REALLY worthy of that kind of miracle, so she sends them on a journey to recover some lost holy treasures, and on the way each of the holy men wrestles with and tames a demon representing some vice or another-"

"-I. I think you've gotten the Star of Bethlehem mixed up with The Journey West." Chad realized, hands pressed together in front of his face.

"Yes that's right! She marks the direction they're supposed to be going with a bright star! So they go West, following the star! "-Ok the three wise men traveling from the east following a star part is, in fact, accurate. What's this about demons?"

"It's some sort of allegory about how all the Saints are virtues so the demons represent the vices people fall into around the holiday- Being punitive or penurious and ruining good things for others. They all had weird names-" Ukitake frowned.

"What's going on?" Captain Kyorauku asked, sticking his head in the door.

"You'll know!" Ukitake chirped with excitement. "-What are the three demons the saints conquer in the Christmas myth?"

"Krampus the Child-beater, Scrooge the Miser, and... Ah fuck I always mispronounce the last one. He's green and he sucks? The Goonch?" Shunsui frowned.

"THE GOONCH?" Ichigo shrieked from the floor.

"I. I think you mean The Grinch." Chad said, experiencing a brand new combination of horror, delight and fascination that felt like the emotional equivalent of a shrimp color.

"That's him! Oscar The Grinch!" Shunsui nodded. "Why, its only August? Also, what's Kurosaki doing on the floor?

"We are apparently very misninformed about the mythlogical origins of Christmas. This amuses Kurosaki to the point of hysterics." Ukitake explained, lightly nudging Ichigo aside with his foot and sitting on the foot of Chad's bed.

"Your version is so much better." Chad said, vibrating with excitement. "What are these treasures they're supposed to get?"

"Oh you had to ask- Shunsui love, you were the one that heard it all from Captain Kuchiki when he did his tour in the living world."

"Oh for fuckssake of course it's Byakuya-" Ichigo groaned from the floor, and Ukitake gently kicked him in the ribs to shush him.

"Uhhhh... Let's see-" Shunsui scratched at his beard."There's Eight Lost Treasures, they're all magical bells that give anyone who rings them supernatural abilities- there's the Bell of Speed, Bell of Grace, Bell of Balance, Bell of Cunning, Bell of... ah fuck. I always forget the two in the middle... -Oh! Bell of destination- not like fate, like, always being able to find your way to where you're going. Bell of Affection, Bell that gives power over wind and Bell that gives power over lighting!"

Chad blinked at him, then slowly crumpled into a ball.

"...Mr. Yasutora?" Ukitake asked, gently touching his shoulder.

"This is amazing. I love it. I'm going to die." he whimpered, voice high and tight as he struggled to breathe from laughing.

"We may have already lost Mr. Kurosaki." Shunsui muttered, poking Ichigo's shoulder with his toe. "Anyway, they conquer the demons, get all the magical bells and make it to the distant city, aand Amaterasu says 'Great job!" Ukitake continued, enthusiastic as they approached his favorite part. "-But she says 'Here's your final test: I'm going to give a special gift to one of these creatures, you tell me which is the most deserving of my favor.' and then she turns them loose in some kind of farm with talking animals. They're all good and noble animals that have done many brave deeds- dogs saved children from drowning, horse that ran across a battlefield to deliver a message that stopped a war and so on- eventually the saints find a brand new baby fawn with a bright red nose. Since it was born just that morning, it's never done anything of note, and the other animals don't really like it because it's red nose means its kind of sickly and it cant see well so they don't want to play with it."

"YES!" Chad cheered, making the connection.

"Oh, that part is right?" Ukitake perked up.

"Not even remotely, but it's amazing. They pick the fawn right?

"That's right! The saints tell Amaterasu that the Baby deer Rudolph is the one that deserves her blessing, because while all the animals here are noble and good, no good deed is better than another, and of all the animals, the sickly little deer is the one that really needs her help."

"Oh no." Ichigo whimpered from the floor. "That's actually like. genuinely heartwarming."

"Amaterasu applauds them, because they've made the right choice, and she gives the power of the star to the baby deer so it very literally glows like a headlight, and She turns the eight magical bells into a herd of deer that all have the powers the bells they were made from had, so Rudolph has a family and the three wise men have a team of nine magical deer to pull the flying sleigh she gives them, and then they are able to deliver all the presents to all the children of the world in one night, and they do it every year on Rudolph's birthday, because he was the first one to receive a proper Christmas present!" Ukitake finished, giving Chad an excitable two thumbs up.

Chad, slowly tipped forward, faintly hissing with silent laughter, then rolled off the bed to join Ichigo on the floor. Ukitake peered after him with concern, until chad slowly raised a weak, shaking hand up to give Ukitake a thumbs up back.

"-What I can't figure is how the bucket of fried chicken fits into all that?" Shunsui pondered, and the boys shrieked with laughter.

[l3tm31nn0w]

At His Mercy

Mr. Reed (Heretic) x fem reader

You’re a PhD theology student wasting time at religious convention, bored out of your mind until you meet a charismatic older man who shares your interest in religion and blasphemy.

Warnings: p in v sex, religious trauma, age gap (reader is of age, nearly 30), degradation, oral (m and f receiving), overstimulation, wax play, religion used in an erotic way

(I have never written fanfic in my LIFE that’s how down bad I am for this man, forgive me if this is a mess lol)

You walked up to the mediocre coffee station for the third time that morning, preparing to stay awake through another dull lecture. It was day two of the Colorado Theology Conference and you had lost patience halfway through day one. You had hoped for more academic and agnostic speakers, but so far you’d heard nothing but actual Christian pastors and priests rambling on about the state of modern religion. For Christ sakes the keynote speaker was a goddamn prosperity preacher! You had to stay as long as could to please the big wigs at the university, each program had to send a PhD candidate for “professional development” and this was all they could find for religious studies. Lucky you.

As you poured the burnt coffee into your already stained styrofoam cup you glanced around the table trying to spot the little creamer cups to no avail. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You said under your breath, clearly louder than intended. “Well there’s always sugar!” You whipped your head to the direction of the voice, fearing youd get scolded by some pastor for daring to curse. The voice, a posh British accent that felt out of place in this cursed convention center, belonged to a middle aged man. He had a kind smile that reached his blue eyes effortlessly. He produced three small sugar packets and handed them to you. “I wish I could drink it black but I can’t handle the bitterness.” He chuckled as you mixed the packets into your cup. You smiled back at him and squinted to read his name tag, delighted that pastor was missing from his name. “Thank you Mr. Reed, I’m just glad to see a man that’s not a preacher in this room.”

His eyes traveled across your body and you almost called him out but he spoke before you could say anything. “I take it you’re not a woman of the cloth yourself, I hate to judge a book by its cover but I doubt many Christian churches would want that on display.” He pointed to the tattoo on your sternum. You giggled and relaxed, realizing he hadn’t been in ogling you, he’d simply been looking at your tattoo. He was the first person this weekend to look at it and smile, most had sneered at you once they realized what it depicted, not that any of them really knew beyond thinking it was a demon. “I know it’s not a good look for an old man like myself to be staring at a young ladies chest, but indulge me” his posh voice lowered with the last words and you felt yourself growing unexpectedly warm. “That fellow there” he said point towards collarbone “is Asmodeus, yes?” You looked up at him, realizing how handsome he really was up close. He had a classic attractiveness to him that no doubt made him popular when he was younger, but there was a bookish innocence to him even at his older age that drew you in. His instant recognition of the demon on your chest must’ve made you visibly light up because he beamed a smile right back at you. “You’re the first person to actually know who he is this entire weekend! I’ve gotten lots of comments but I’m sure you can imagine they were less than kind based on the crowd we have here.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded, enthusiastically agreeing with you about the overly zealous convention goers.

Relieved to have met someone with a more academic background you blurted out “I’m Y/N! Please sit with me during the next lecture? I think I’ll die if I’m stuck sitting between anymore church moms or worship leaders.” He smiled again, making the crows feet surrounding his blue eyes wrinkle up. “Absolutely Y/N, but only if we can sit in the back and whisper nasty jokes about whatever nonsense is being said on stage.” You laughed, a genuine laugh, and began walking towards the ballroom where the next lecture was taking place.

“So what brings you here Mr. Reed? You must be an academic if you’re not a Bible thumper like all these people. Forgive me for judging a book by its cover as well, but you must be a professor?” He certainly looked like one with autumnal colored cardigan, grey slacks and large clear rimmed glasses. “Oh goodness no, you flatter me! I’m just an old man with an interest in religion. I’ve been studying it for decades at this point. I’ve been to quite a few of these things, but usually they’re filled with academics not religious nuts. I think this one was advertised a bit incorrectly. I’m guessing you’re on your way to being a professor though?” He quiered back at you. “Yes, I’m getting my PhD in religious studies. I’ve been into religion as long as I can remember as well, I guess not as long as you. Oh god sorry that was rude!” You blushed a bright red realizing you’d called Mr. Reed old. He simply laughed and said “Darling don’t apologize for having eyes, I’ve clearly got a few decades on you! You must be what? 30 at most?” The blush from early only deepened at the pet name. Attempting to gain composure you coughed and replied “30 in April!” “Trust me, I’m ancient history compared to you.”

The two of you settled into the back row of the ballroom and you nodded toward the speaker, a Baptist minister who looked like he’d been alive during the crucifixion. You lowered your voice to a whisper “well not as ancient as HIM.” Mr. Reed stifled his laughter, a challenge you both attempted and mostly failed as you whispered back and forth for the next hour.

After the lecture the two of you slinked out the back worried you’d get a talking to for being too loud during the lecture. You looked at the paper schedule from your pocket and sighed “the damn keynote is next. I don’t think I can handle that grifter.” Mr. Reed grimaced in agreement. He looked down at his watch and then up at you. “Would you allow me to take you lunch darling?” There was the pet name again and with it came a flush in your cheeks. You chewed your lip, deliberating it. You were supposed to sit through the scheduled lectures and bring back notes for your thesis team, a way to prove the university’s investment in professional development wasn’t wasted even though it most certainly was in this instance. You looked up at Mr. Reed, studying his expression. You wanted to know more about this mysterious religious enthusiast full of dirty jokes who got excited by demons. Surely he had stories that would be more impactful than that prosperity preacher! You lied to yourself saying it was purely academic when in reality the heat pooling in your stomach was getting hard to ignore. You’d always fancied older men, but until now it was always talk. Always a day dream. Here was a handsome older gentleman who had a lot in common with you who was seemingly flirting without being creepy. You couldn’t let this chance pass. “It would be my pleasure! Let’s get out of here.” Your new companion’s face lit up and he guided you out the door of the convention hall. “Don’t laugh at how cliche this is, but there’s a rather good English pub down the road how does that sound?” You tightened your scarf around your face and nodded, a slight giggle escaping at that suggestion coming from the posh accent.

After a couple of blocks you’d reached your destination and settled into a booth at the back of the dark, cozy pub. “Can I ask a personal question that may be slightly uncomfortable?” Mr. Reed posited. You were becoming slightly infatuated and really had nothing to lose at this point. “I’m an open book, ask away!” “What is your reasoning for getting our good friend asmodeus etched upon your lovely collarbone? I know you’re far too smart for the standard answer of “he looks neat.”” You knew this would be coming the second he had recognized the demon on your chest. If you were going here, you wanted to play with him a little. “Well Mr. Reed, I can answer that, but first I need you to tell me what you know about Asmodeus.” Your older companion smiled at you dangerously and began, “Well, he’s present in all the abrahamic religions, usually as a demon king. He’s closely associated with the Angel Raphael. And, forgive me for being so crass, I hope this last reason may have motivated your tattoo: in the late Middle Ages the Malleus Maleficarum posited that he was the demon of lust.” His final word went straight to your core. You were almost dizzy from the rush of endorphins hitting you, sure it was hot that was boldly and blatantly flirting with you, but his knowledge of all the things that interested you the most may have been even sexier to you. You smiled coyly. “It’s your lucky day then Mr. Reed. His association with lust was absolutely the motivating factor.” He grinned at you and gave a look suggesting he wanted you to elaborate. “I was raised Catholic. My parents were all about it, we were constantly volunteering at the church. So at one point in high school me and this friend, Gabe, are put in charge of cleaning out the sensors. One day I walk in and see the parish priest trying to put a move on Gabe and I put myself between them. I tell the creep I’m running straight to the diocese and to my parents to get his ass fired. Well by the time I get home my mother is SCREAMING at me calling me a whore of Babylon, a jezebel. My father won’t look me in the eye. Turns out the creep priest had called my house and told my mom he caught me and Gabe fornicating in the church office and that Gabe told him I let all the other high school altar boys take turns with me. Obviously none of it was true, I was a virgin and Gabe was in the closet, which father creep knew and probably used to get Gabe to fall into line with his story. For the rest of high school I was the Catholic school slut and that came with all the cat calling and groping you can imagine. You’d think that would break my spirits when it came to religion, but it had been with me so long I couldn’t let it go. I didn’t believe the way my family did, but the stories, the imagery it all meant so much to me. So I fuck off at 18 and go to college in a different state for theology. Turns out I’m good at it. I graduate with honors. I get into a top choice masters program. I graduate from that program with honors. I know I’m hot shit and I feel like I’m hot shit and that I’ve come a long long way from being the Catholic school slut so I find the perfect image of Asmodeus and get him smack dab in the middle of my slut chest. Because he’s more than lust, he’s power, he’s danger. It’s a shame though, I spent so much time with my head in a book I never got to live up to my alleged Catholic slut persona.”

The second you finish your story your confidence falters and you feel your cheeks flush. You cannot believe you just shared all that with this man you’ve only known for a few hours. Mr. Reed broke the silence by quietly saying “You’re extraordinary.” You could tell he was being sincere and it made your heart beat faster. If he kept this up your old reputation may come true. “Well now you know my edgy religious trauma backstory, let’s hear yours!” He chuckled. “Well I can’t say I was ever accused of being the town harlot, though I don’t think I’d fit that part visually anyway.” You rolled your eyes at him, sick of his subtle self deprecation. He had to know he was handsome. Sure, he was old enough to be your father, but his age suited his features. The lines around his mouth and eyes came to life when he smiled. His greying hair was touseled in that messily attractive sort of way. The large glasses that sat in his face added to the sexy professor vibe he gave off. “Honestly I’ve got no tragic backstory. I’ve just craved the connection to a higher power since as long as I can remember. I wasn’t raised religious so as soon as I could read I started searching for the one true god. There’s so many religions is exhausting. Each of them have their own special qualities, but there was always something that let me down. I learned literally as much as I could. I’ve collected so many books and artifacts that my house looks like a damned theology museum. Then I found it. After my years and years and years of searching. I found the one true religion, the one true god.” He said those final words very seriously which contrasted greatly with his general quirky demeanor. You let out a little gasp. “So you’re not agnostic or an atheist then? I just assumed the way we were talking with each other you were agnostic like me!” “I was the picture of agnosticism for many many years. I don’t know what my discovery makes me. There’s no way to describe it.” Ok, now you were a little nervous. Was the handsome academic before you secretly a cult freak? He clearly sensed your discomfort and lightened the mood. “Enough of that though, you’re not some religious nut who needs to be convinced. I respect a solid agnostic. It’s good to be open to anything.” You smiled back at him, feeling just a bit more at ease.

You continued to chat about yourselves and various religious facts and oddities as you ate. Eventually you exited the restaurant and realized how long you’d been lost in conversation. The sun had begun to set and you weren’t quite ready to leave your new companion. His assertion of knowing the one true religion wouldn’t leave your mind. An old building across the road caught your eye. You looked over to Mr. Reed, his nose starting to flush pink with the cold. “Humor me?” You said as you stuck your gloved hand out to him. He smiled and placed his much larger hand in yours. You pulled him across the road and into the old stone building, a rundown yet still beautiful Catholic Church.

Despite your distaste for your family and your upbringing, you always felt a warmth and a comfort inside a Catholic Church. This one was small, but still had all the hallmarks of a cathedral: stained glass, wooden carvings of the stations of the cross, a giant crucifix of Christ in all his gory glory dead center of the aisle. You always found that there was a certain blasphemous sensuality in the depictions of Christ. Maybe you weren’t beating the Catholic slut allegations after all.

As you guided Mr. Reed into the church you paused to anoint yourself with holy water, old habits die hard after all. He skipped the water but followed you as you trailed around the church, your eyes on the architecture and decor, his eyes never leaving you. You finally settled into a few towards the front near the donation candles. The two of you were the only occupants and you closed your eyes, savoring the moment. Eyes still closed, you rested your hand on his and whispered “Thank you for seeing me. Nobody has ever seen me the way that you have.” You were met with silence, but his larger hand covered yours. After a continued moment of silence you opened your eyes and turned to him. “Please. What is this one true religion you believe so much in? I have to know. I can’t fathom parting ways and never knowing.” He looked at you very seriously. “Are you sure you want to know?” “Please.” You whispered desperately. “Ok, then close your eyes again.” He said in a hushed tone. You did as you were told and you felt him brush a strand of hair behind your ear. He leaned in close enough that you could feel his lips graze your ear and whispered “Control.”

Your entire body felt as if it was engulfed in flames. You squeezed the hand that still remained in your grasp and your eyes fluttered open. His gaze was hungry. You stared directly at him and said, louder than any of your previous conversation in the church, “Mr. Reed I think I’d like you to take me to see that theology museum you mentioned earlier.” “Of course darling.” In stark contrast to the way you had lazily lead him by his hand into the church, he quickly lead you out with his hand pressed firmly onto the small of your back. The old woman working the volunteer desk shot the two of you a puzzled look, she had no doubt assumed you were father and daughter until she saw the way his hand rested just above your ass.

He whisked you back to the convention hall parking lot and opened his car door for you, ever the gentleman. He had asked if you’d driven to the convention and if you wanted to drive separate, but you had ubered from your modest student housing. The two of you continued to make conversation as you had all evening, Mr. Reed even mentioning specific artifacts he would show you when you arrived at his house. Despite this the sexual tension was thick and heavy in his small sedan. A small part of you was screaming to yourself that this was insane and reckless, going to a second location with a man you just met today. But you had secretly wanted your day to end this way nearly the second you met him. His course whisper of the word control had sent you over the edge. All you do is think and decide and it gets so fucking exhausting. The idea of turning yourself over to him to do with you as he liked was just too good to pass up.

He pulled up to his house and opened up the car door, leading you into his house. You couldn’t help but smile as you walked in. It was adorable. It had the soft welcoming quality of a grandparents house. You wouldn’t dare say this aloud for fear of making him self conscious about his age. “Oh Mr. Reed your house is lovely! It’s so cozy!” You exclaimed. He smiled at you and then noticed you were shivering. “Cup of tea to warm you through?” He asked. You nodded and he disappeared into the kitchen. You settled onto a couch and before long he returned with two cups of tea. As he handed you yours his fingers brushed your hand for an extended moment and it sent shocks through you. Much to your embarrassment he noticed and winked. You drank your tea and continued to talk aimlessly until finally he said “Would you like to see some of my collection?” You nodded enthusiastically. Sure, “seeing his theology museum” was a ploy for him to take you home and fuck you senseless, but you also were dying to see his collection and he knew it.

He grabbed your hand and guided you down a dimly lit hallway into a large office. It was chock full of books, artifacts and paintings. You could’ve lost hours in here. He had things from just about every religion you’d ever heard of, there were probably a ton that you had no clue about. He let you wander around for a moment then retreated into a corner, returning with an intricate crucifix. “I think you’ll love this one, I saw how you looked at the one at the church.” He handed it over to you and you brought it close to your face to inspect the detailed paint job. It was a wooden carving, probably late medieval or early northern renaissance. The paint had faded, but the details of Christ’s wounds still shone a bright red. You rubbed your finger absentmindedly up the naked torso of the figurine and you felt Mr. Reed’s breath on your neck. “I watched you look upon the lord in that church and could tell your thoughts weren’t so holy. Is that your grand rebellion against your upbringing? Fantasizing about fucking Jesus?” You whipped around and faced him, your lips nearly touching. His pale eyes bore into you and for the first time this evening you were genuinely speechless. That serious, almost scathing tone from back at the church had returned. “How many times have you sat up late at night and touched yourself looking at him while you study? Do your droll professors know you’re soaking through your panties when they’re running through their slides?” Your face had to be deep red at this point and he was clearly relishing in your embarrassment. “When was the last time you got fucked y/n?” You looked away from him and that was all the answer he needed. “At what point today did you start imagining me fucking you?” He asked smugly. You thought back, trying to pinpoint the exact moment your thoughts turned to sin. “When you pointed out my tattoo. I thought you were checking me out, but realized you were genuinely curious about the tattoo. You knew what he was.” His eyebrow raised, seemingly pleased and shocked at your answer. “I thought you were handsome from the moment you handed me the sugar packets, I have eyes after all, but your intelligence is what sent a fire through me.”

You felt brave and brought your hands up to his hair, rifling your fingers through his soft greying locks. He closed his eyes and hummed an approval. After you broke the seal by touching him, he finally placed his hands around your waist and pulled you towards him, your chests flushed against each other. Your lips were barely grazing when he whispered

“Behold, you are beautiful, my love;

    behold, you are beautiful;

    your eyes are doves.”

Who was this man? One second he’s degrading you, the next he’s holding you tenderly quoting the Song of Solomon.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the small gap and kissed you. It was a a chaste kiss, perhaps revealing he simply talked a big game and he himself hadn’t had a lover in some time. That was fine by you, there was something alluring about breaking him in. You went in for another kiss, hotter and heavier than his, your hands gripping his scalp, a moan building in the back of your throat. You broke the kiss and began placing kisses across his face and neck, settling in to craft a hickey on his right side. You left his neck with a pop, satisfied by the red mark left behind. You whispered into his ear “and when was the last time you fucked, Mr. Reed?” He brought his hands up to your face, pulling it to look him in the eye. “I must confess darling it’s been quite a minute. Once you reach my age the options slim out. I’m also not one to just stick my cock in whatever makes itself available. You, my dear, are special. And if you’ll let me, I can show you that while it may have been awhile for me, I promise you I’m not out of practice.” You answered him with another kiss. He smiled and released you, causing you to frown at the lack of contact.

“Give me just one second!” He called back to you as he began running around his office. He began putting together what you could only describe as a nest in the middle of the floor laying blankets and pillows around. He grabbed your hand and guided you to the floor. “Now darling, will you let me show you how a man treats a lady? I doubt those piddly little boys you’ve messed around with had a clue how to make your body sing.” His words went straight to your core. The idea of an age gap alone always turned you on, the allure of an experienced, tender older man who knew how to treat a lady. You let him lay you down and said “I’m at your mercy now Mr. Reed.”

He lay next to you and resumed kissing you passionately. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth he began slipping his hand under your sweater. “What a good Catholic slut you are!” He mused, pinching one of your nipples. You rarely ever wore a bra, especially under your thick winter sweaters. You let out a soft moan in response. He massaged your breast further and you stifled another moan. “Darling it’s just us, you can do better than that. “O come, let us sing to the LORD; let us make a joyful noise”” He tweaked your nipple at the end of the quote and you moaned deeply, both at the stimulation and the persevere use of a psalm. He pulled your sweater off leaving your chest bare, the cold air hardening your nipples. He wasted no time taking one into his mouth, licking and sucking while he stimulated the other with his hand. It was all going straight to your core, you needed him to touch you where it mattered.

“Please” you huffed out. He brought his face close to yours and asked “Please what? You’re a big girl use your words.” Your face flushed, suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment. You were never one to talk dirty or ask for specifics when you had sex, you always worried it would kill the mood. Deep down you knew this was part of the turn on for him though so you managed to sputter out “Please play with my pussy. I need it, I need it so bad it hurts.” He places a kiss on your forehead and replied “what a good girl using her words. How I could I ever deny you.” Despite the slight condescending tone, the use of “good girl” made you moan. He would remember this.

He brought his hand down to your jeans and rubbed through the thick material. It did practically nothing and you knew this was just another ploy for you to beg him using your words. “Mr. Reed please please touch me bare, please I need your fingers.” He smiled and began sliding your jeans off. He chuckled when he got to your underwear. “Listen I didn’t imagine I’d be getting lucky at the religious convention!” You squeaked out hiding your face. You’d absentmindedly thrown on a pair of boy short style underwear patterned with French fries. “Is it too forward to say suddenly I’m craving a McDonald’s?” You playfully kicked his leg and you both chuckled. “I would never allow a poor old man to starve.” You replied faux dramatically.

As he went to pull down your underwear he exclaimed “my god, am I this powerful? These are sopping wet.” It was true, he’d been turning you on for hours at this point and by the time you’d made it back to his little chapel your underwear was so wet it almost felt like you’d had an accident. “Then do something about it!” You huffed. He pulled the garment down your legs and you were finally laid bare before him. You had no clothes on and he had everything still on, down to the grandpa cardigan. Laid out in his office decorated like a church you felt like a sacrifice. That only turned you on more.

He pulled your legs apart as wide as they could go and gazed up your sex. Despite his academic cool guy demeanor, you were really beginning to see just how turned on he was. His face was flushed, his hands trembled slightly as they gripped your thighs. His erection was straining through his trousers, clearly large enough for you to have plenty of fun with later. He moved his hands from your thighs to your vulva and spread you open, sighing lustfully as he did. He took an index finger and rimmed it around your entrance, gathering your juices before bringing his finger in lazy circles around your clit. You moaned, a deep guttural moan. You were too caught up in the ecstasy of finally being touched to see just how much this affected him. He continued to slowly stroke you while he brought his lips back to your nipple, sucking and nibbling. The dual stimulation was heavenly. He brought his lips to your ear and whispered “Darling may I taste you?” You moaned at the thought and then, in a moment of theological clarity, caressed his cheek and replied “My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to browse in the gardens and to gather lilies. I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine; he browses among the lilies.” He seemed just as turned on by religious quotation as you, his eyes widened before he slunk back down to your pussy, spreading it wide before feasting upon you.

He took an experimental lick from your entrance to your clit and you cried out. Clearly amused by your reaction, he focused on your clit, alternating between licking and sucking in a painfully slow fashion. You were moaning in a way you would’ve considered deeply embarrassing had you had the clarity to hear yourself: a high pitched whiny squeal that sounded like something out of a porno. This entire scenario, the dashing older man eating out the young bookish girl, was straight out of a porn so perhaps your wailing was fitting.

As you felt your climax build, he cruelly pulled away. “Noooo don’t stop please!” You whined, lightly kicking his arm. He looked up at you and you found that his gaze had shifted back to the confident, predatory one you’d seen at the actual church. He climbed up your body until you were face to face and he held your chin in a strong grasp. “Are you going to be a good girl? Because only good girls get to cum.” You nodded frantically. “You said earlier you were at my mercy, I’m going to put that to the test now. If you disobey me I’ll leave you crying on the floor with no release and no chance at getting my cock.” Your eyes widened, what on earth did he mean with his test? Your mind was too clouded with lust to question anything. You needed him. “Anything Mr. Reed I’ll do anything you want. I’m your good girl please let me show you.” He chuckled at your desperation. “Wait right here then my good girl, I need to grab some things. Something from me and something from you.”

He left you laying on the floor wondering what he could possibly mean by something from you. After what felt like ages he returned. In his hands he held an ornate candlestick with the Virgin Mary carved into the side. A deep red candle was affixed to the top. “This” he said setting the candle on the ground “is from me.” He rifled into his cardigan pocket for something. “And this is from you. I think most people would say good girls don’t carry this in their purse, but I would wager I’m not most people.” He produced a small black rubber ball with a small hole at the top. You stared at in, confused, and then realization set in. It was a vibrator. You had gone out to lunch with your roommate from undergrad a week ago and she had given it to you as a joke, calling it your date for Valentine’s Day. She’d been married with kids for 5 years at this point and constantly nagged at you to settle down so the vibrator was par for the course, a usual humiliation from her. At the time you’d rolled your eyes at her and thrown it in your bag forgetting about it. Your companion must have rifled through your belongings when you got up to use the bathroom at the restaurant. He sat down on the floor and motioned for you to come to him. “Lay against me pet.” He said patting his chest. You backed into him, your ass against his straining erection and your head leaning back onto his shoulder. It was almost too intimate a position for a one night stand. If that’s all this was.

“Here is what’s going to happen. I am going to take this candle, light it, and drip its wax down your delectable body. While I’m doing that I will be holding this vibrator firmly against your clit. Now I know I’m not some big muscle freak, but I am certainly strong enough to hold you down and I will do so. You will not cum until I give you permission. If you agree to this right now I will not listen to any pleas of stop or no, but I know that you won’t dare even utter those words.” Your heart was racing and you felt yourself grow even wetter, something you didn’t think was possible at this point. Earlier when you’d mentally imagined fucking your new friend you’d imagined he would kiss you and fondle your breast a little before fucking you in missionary. You’d never anticipated wax play and edging from an aging British amateur theologian.

“I told you Mr. Reed. I’m at your mercy.” You huffed out, snuggling your head into his neck as if to prove how serious you were about staying. “Atta girl” He said, placing a kiss on your forehead. He started by lighting the candle. Once the wax began dripping down to the candle holder he lifted it off the ground and hovered it above your naked body. “You, LORD, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.” The psalm slipped past his lips as the hot wax hit your breasts. It felt incredible, especially as he held you flush against him. His right arm held you firm in place against him even as his hand, which held the vibrator, snaked closer and closer to your core. Finally you felt the cold silicone divot pressed firmly over your clit. You shuddered at the contact, already sensitive from his fingers and mouth. He hit the button on the side of the device and it whirred to life. Just as the vibration began he poured more wax down your torso. The stimulation was already mind numbing. He began whispering passages from revelation in your ear, the twisted words of angels unleashing chaos on mankind only sending me further into your hedonistic frenzy. The Catholic slut had been fully realized. The vibrator attacked your clit you felt yourself teetering just on the edge of release, somehow holding out simply to please him, to serve him.

Tears began rolling down your cheek, not from the pain of the hot wax, but from the pure ecstasy this man was inflicting upon you. There was nothing left in the world, just you and him. His soft cardigan against your skin, his wispy grey curls tickling your eyes as you hid your face in the crook of this neck, his gentle voice in your ear. Suddenly that voice switched from revelation back to a passage from a psalm: “Deep calls to deep at the noise of your waterfalls. All your waves and your billows have swept over me.” Your entire body erupted into white hot light, your climax racking through your very being. Mr. Reed set down the candle and turned off the vibrator and brought you even closer to him, bringing you fully into his lap with his arms around your waist. You sobbed into his neck, so overwhelmed and overstimulated by what you had just experienced. “Oh my beautiful girl you are more marvelous than I could’ve ever imagined.”

Once you had stopped crying and come down from your orgasm a little, he tapped your side and helped you stand up. He guided you out of his faux church and down the hall into what you assumed must be his bedroom. He laid you down on the bed and left for moment, not without kissing you first. While you waiting for him you took in your surroundings. The walls were covered in a deep red floral wallpaper. The bedding was soft, though a little worn. He had more religious artifacts adorning his walls and shelves. You even spied Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons amongst a stack of books. You would tease him for that later. He returned with a large glass of water and handed it to you. As you sipped the cool water he started undressing, stripping down to a white tshirt and plaid boxers. You set the glass down on his bedside table and held your arms out to him. He climbed in the bed next to you and began kissing you fervently. His hands explored your body and despite the previous orgasm you found yourself growing slick with want yet again.

Now that he was freed from his trousers you reached your hand down and stroked his length through his boxers. He let out a delicious moan in response, his cool demeanor fully melted away and replaced with need. As you kissed him through his moans and continued to palm at him you wondered how long it had been since he’d been this intimate with someone. That’s really what was happening here, this was far more than a one night stand. You wanted to make him feel good, to elicit an orgasm that brought him to tears just like he had done for you.

Breaking the kiss you slid your hand under his shirt and gently guided it over his head. Once you’d removed his shirt you kissed him deeply, leaving his lips and trailing kisses down his chest. When you reached just above his boxers you raised an eyebrow, surprised to see a happy trail leading to your main event. You kissed along the patch of hair and slowly slid his boxers down. His cock sprung forward and you couldn’t help but moan a little at the sight of him. He was a good 7inches and decently thick. Circumsized too, so god must be pleased.

You began stroking his bare length and he shuddered. Leaning forward, you took his entire length into your mouth in one quick motion and he yelled. As you went to work he gripped your hair holding you tight in place. “Oh my sweet girl my good girl you make me feel divine” he sputtered out between moans. You loved how vocal he was and you couldn’t wait to hear him when he was inside you.

Suddenly his grip on your scalp released and he pulled your head off of him. Fearing you’d done something wrong you looked up at him with big doe eyes, waiting for a response. He pulled you up so that you were straddling him and brought your head to rest against his. “And the two shall become one flesh.” He whispered before pulling you into a kiss you could only describe as romantic. Sure you were both naked and your wet cunt was planted firmly on his rock hard cock, but there was something innocent and pure about that kiss. He scooted up against the headboard and pulled you firmly onto his lap, your tits right at eye level. He lifted you onto him and you both groaned in ecstasy as he entered you. Unable to control yourself you began riding him, needing to feel him go deep inside you. The sounds coming from your soaking union were obscene, complimented by your once again pornographic high pitched squeals and his guttural moans. He held you flush against him, your breasts smothering his face. He nipped and sucked at your nipples again, feeling the rush of warm wet slick it caused. “Imagine what your old classmates would think of you now, piercing yourself on an old atheist’s cock.” The dirty talk was back and you knew his voice alone could guide you to a second climax. “If god was real then he designed you just for me, he made your sweet little cunt ripe for my taking. MY perfect little Catholic slut.” He growled out the word “my” emphasizing the feeling you already held near and dear to your heart, you were his. With those words ringing in your ear you came hard and fast around his cock and he followed shortly after. You could feel his warm seed filling you and mixing with your own cum, dripping out of your weeping hole.

You both just held each other, his cock softening inside you. He finally pulled out and the two of you hobbled to his bathroom. He guided you into the shower and you both just enjoyed each other’s silent company as you cleaned off the evidence of your lecherous evening. You stayed under the warm water awhile longer after he left, just soaking in the steam. When you climbed out and began drying yourself off he re-entered the bathroom holding a pair of plaid boxers and a faded old Radiohead t shirt. “I get to stay?” You asked grabbing the clothes from him and pulling him into a kiss. “Darling if I had it my way you’d never leave.” You pulled on his clothes and climbed into his bed with him, falling asleep in his arms as if it was the place you were destined to be.

***

Four months later when you crossed the stage to accept your doctoral diploma, you beamed with pride and relief that for the first time in your academic career they didn’t call out the last name that belonged to your family who had thrown you out so carelessly. No, they announced you as Dr. Reed.

After a whirlwind month of romance and hedonism, Mr. Reed had proposed to you. It was insane, your friends thought, marrying a man old enough to be your father that you’d just met, but when they saw the two of you together the couldn’t argue. It truly seemed that you were two halves of a whole.

You were hired by the university you’d graduated from as a theology professor and you and your husband lived a blissful life. You opened him up more and would bring your friends around for dinner parties and game nights. He would still linger at your side like a puppy dog even as he grew more comfortable around people. The house you shared was always ooh’d and ahh’d at by company. Occasionally you’d be asked “what’s behind those twin doors in the office?” and you’d smile and politely reply “oh it’s just old storage there, nothing fancy to show off. In fact it’s a mess, I’d be embarrassed for you to see!” and your husband would squeeze your arm and smile at you, proud that you’d converted to his one true religion.

[lwlrence]

GAIMAN'S HELL/ SANDMAN

(all 5 winner's debate: SAUDI WOMEN'S CONGRESS like a man would (mother's carry their reputation permanently)

ENERGY ATTAINED/REMOVED

knock out battle: Robert deNiro 1 -sucked at/why?-

knock out battle: Michael Douglas 2 -i like that/no-

knock out battle: Matt Damon 3 -where?/what?-

knock out battle: Peter Cushing 4 -did you?/i did not-

knock out battle: Elizabeth Taylor 5 -fact/huh?-

knock out battle: John Travolta 6 -honour/undead-

knock out battle: Woody Allen 7 -nothing/wonder-

knock out battle: Gary Busey 8 -lost at/losing-

knock out battle: James Woods 9 -knockout/rocky logic-

knock out battle: Billie Piper 10 -i did that/no you did not (emperor's new groove logic)-

CROWD LOGIC: EDGAR ALLEN POE'S CHASING CROWS

LENORE: HURTS MOST (CALLED OUT FOR)

knock out battle: Robert deNiro 1 -sucked at/why?-

smwc: Stardust (movie) reference without sounding crazy that you fell for Charlie Cox on the way (reasonable man)

sh: anything to do with the Disney plot (actually a Hannah Montana fan)

sh8: fan of the heart wants what it wants (Selena song)

saudi: made fun of the poor

knock out battle: Michael Douglas 2 -i like that/no-

smwc: being in his movies

sh: Dre fan

sh8: liking Peter Capaldi for one bit (his diss track is you)

saudi: bumper cars reverb (suicidal verse trap)

knock out battle: Matt Damon 2 -where?/what?-

smwc: losing by a flaw (facial)

sh: dissing Joaquin Phoenix

sh8: being Keanu Reeves

saudi: 'acting' like one of the mf's from Peaky Blinder's (hetero-disnormative dissorder)

knock out battle: Peter Cushing 4 -did you?/i did not-

smwc: referencing the death of Clara/Rose just to blame it on them

sh: mentioning an actor's name to 'back you up'

sh8: personal issues exposed (X-factor sob story)

saudi: your discography in the zone (instant wipeout)

knock out battle: Elizabeth Taylor 6 fact/huh?

smwc: mentioning the movie

sh: audrey hepburn logic

sh8: ariana grande moaning in between

saudi: homelander reference by period telling

knock out battle: John Travolta 6 -honour/undead-

smwc: mentioning Miley Cyrus's life

sh: disney terabithia walkthrough

sh8: the illusionist movie bullcrap about a Eisenheim getting caught one time to be a playwright at the end to Kim Jong Balloon logic into Croc (you knew)

saudi: being Brad Pitt

knock out battle: Woody Allen 7 -nothing/wonder-

smwc: his life

sh: antz

sh8: bugs life

saudi: current head of saudi arabia

knock out battle: Gary Busey 8 -lost at/losing-

smwc: Simpsons logic loophole like a coward

sh: Broadchurch innocence

sh8: fleabag generation singer/songwriter argument

saudi: Cillian Murphy's hoor

knock out battle: James Woods 9 -knockout/rocky logic-

smwc: Seth McFarlane has to reproduce you/thinking you're his 'legacy'/embracing Charlize Theron/Snow White neo-Disney/being hated the actor Ortega's Dawah Salaam

sh: Rocky nonsense

sh8: Nouman Ali Khan ayah lecture memorised

saudi: Dubai tourism sponsorship

knock out battle: Billie Piper 10 -i did that/no you did not (emperor's new groove logic)

smwc: like the adam sandler dnd group

sh: youtube rewind

sh8: dissing gabbe hanna

saudi: vines 'making you' (dead out of the plot: Yzma logic)

AIDENN: WHAT YOU SAY IS FINAL (YOUR MAMA JOKE IS LAID TO REST) -INTUITION-

knock out battle: Robert deNiro 1 -sucked at/why?-

smwc: allah

sh: hell with it

sh8: you did that

saudi: allahukbar namaz timer/adhaan gridlock

knock out battle: Michael Douglas 2 -i like that/no-

smwc: tarzan once

sh: alexander skarsgard's mickey rooney

sh8: meryl streep

saudi: charli xcx brat energy

knock out battle: Matt Damon 3 -where?/what?-

smwc: jeff buckley ayayayayayyaayayayay

sh: anchorman

sh8: jon heder in blades of glory

saudi: teamwork

knock out battle: Peter Cushing 4 -did you?/i did not-

smwc: 789 joke minus 6

sh: demi lovato

sh8: northwood mars yeetchu

saudi: david dawud bowie peace tv dawah salaam

knock out battle: Elizabeth Taylor 5 -fact/huh?-

smwc: sexualising ariana grande

sh: tate potato

sh8: 'i'm proud britney did the time'

saudi: anson seabra guilty pleasure rishta advantage

knock out battle: John Travolta 6 -honour/undead-

smwc: sabrina carpenter bitch starbucks

sh: #theolderspicywhiteguyteenagergrease1977

sh8: young sexy keanu reeves

saudi: schue sylvester walkthrough

knock out battle: Woody Allen 7 -nothing/wonder-

smwc: 'apple bottom jeans flo rida florida'

sh: bloxorz

sh8: the pretenders selena gomez

saudi: extending periods since 1994

knock out battle: Gary Busey 8 -lost at/losing-

smwc: House M.D at a fight club

sh: jeremy clarkson eclipse

sh8: jilbaab batman

saudi: discrimination on autism outreach

knock out battle: James Woods 9 -knockout/rocky logic-

smwc: anne hathaway lima heights

sh: wuthering heights

sh8: flowers by Miley Cyrus energy

saudi: pakistan with the Wintour's

knock out battle: Billie Piper 10 -i did that/no you did not (emperor's new groove logic)-

smwc: robin thicke's pharrell williams rachel green from friends

sh: being blake lively

sh8: 'orgy reference'

saudi: seabra from the masjid with ali khan the red beard amina we are lady parts lana del rey mariner's elvis complex pepsi cola p*ssy attitude the entire time (ends your run on the looney tunes -marvin the martian-)

fr

TALENT SHOW OBLIVION:

X FACTOR:

LOSER'S RUN: EQUANIMITY

RUN OF THE SHOW IN ACTUAL REALITY:

auditions

knock out challenge based on lyrical emphasis

judges opinion: strongly based on sincerity (contestant being their fanbase to their career veneering on judges actual likeability of their music)

round 1: poetic leverage

round 2: movie of their choice

round 3: one movie -open cinema-

round 4: glee (cast) -second audition-

round 5: director's opinion: Nolan

round 6: hurricane final: actor

round 7: worst case scenario (heavily disliked song from their taste)

round 8: -their choice- last words

round 9: death date

round 10: knock out (no advantage)

LOSER'S RUN: DEADLOCK (RETURNING AND UNDERGRADUATE)

losses from previous talent shows/judges table/contestant leverage is spared to find your voice

knock out in the second round is actually you to yourself based on career's opinion because your reason to elevate your worth is not there anymore (cage fight)

you come back but like you're making yourself clear on why you hate the movie you're in but you're interested in 'finding more' but you're at the end like your coursework tires you out for the mark, so it's you against the world

your sound is piety judged against heartache like your own version of an artist is not finding cheap fame

you win the round but it's easier there if you noticed why is wonder making a good look for you

you hate the part but you have to find it without sound like a tw*t

you're nailed to the part you're remembered for, is your reputation like the energy from the cast of the TV show Glee

you get into the arts of starting over by forgetting why you're there, so it's the director of the century that gets to pick for you but you have to make him feel good about it is why you're trained first before knowing it, so you're tested on revolt to know it, so you knew a university in Dubai that was giving waywards (internet territory) lectures on sound equanimity (self-illustrated limits of a protostar)

you're going to be heartbroken by realisation for the remaining contestants in that round without sounding like an a**hole about it, so you're forced to do the hardwork is your sincerity (voice) matching dedication (level of stupidity made into optimism) to regain all that 'weaknesses' burned off

you become the producer but you hate to explain it, so it's all time and space you get to do that without misandry in the intro's you kept hearing all the way, so you make it up as you go along but you're based about a theory now. so it's you and your song being one than the biases, you level with that and you have everything, literally.

this round is all about you. your world, your taste, your Dubai (originality from land is owning your destiny to mock and arabian into believing in a god is your fanbase made neglected but to you of your own as you see fit (often-so, contestants feel their emotions rightfully right there than saying their reaction was the true cause of the journey done right (audience condemns their time to think accurately about you)

you are knocked out there. tested like a khawaarij. truth is told by reason than sound is you thinning out to be a person than law (song is actually you in torment is told by your higher self)

this is a relay to winners tradition, so it's a metaphor on voice taking skills of a fighter being encouraged by crowd ambition is you knowing why your voice loves to play with you playing with yourself the entire time (singer's joy)

WINNER'S ADVANTAGE: HALYCON

you don't come off as a sob story but you make sense, so the winner's wonder comes from Earth itself making you 'find your true company' (who else mentions you backed you up: they're automatically in the games)

hoor advantage. you won that (you were not basing your career off looks anymore)

your rage omnipotence is honest loyalty, you smack talk the judges into doing better (DJ advantage)

you don't release your first single but AI (northwood space) does it for you (true gold medallist opinion: public favour)

you are a valued person (all your woes are gone)

you align with other artists without sounding or looking like smack right back (personal choice to steer your now, elected way of taste to be a sound reason to you to find space and it is (super in a woman)

your Glee persona (group reign upheld: band status) is aligned to your true model of being (like of that of the ways of being an actor without you being one: mindhunter: glee pilot epic played is your turn to hold the persona of 'Fallon' (Frank James) of your universe (no judgement on your advantages anymore is right there (trusted person)

you are.

your journey given the insights, will make you a theosopher (philosopher of your own rights) to encourage your fanbase doing the same (you also get to be a lecturer in Dubai or wherever makes your space feel breakhaven)

you either are willing to find 'the girl' or not. is why Simon Cowell hates the living sh*t out of you (so are the other judges to protect the rights of the disabled (hospital minority) is you forming a complex of 'easy living' on your own (end-times run on sound and geo-ministry (CERN)

you're replayed to regret is easier than you meeting me in person (the idea who made you: harbinger)

you play with that with the cast of The Boys who have some idea who are you (affiliate association by American factor the entire time: either with or against (gained strength) to 'see' and it is (heaven at last)

THE VOICE:

LOSER'S RUN: EQUANIMITY

RUN OF THE SHOW IN ACTUAL REALITY:

ANALOG/ARABIA

knock out battle: beat 1

knock out battle: bass 2

knock out battle: harmony 3

knock out battle: first verse 4

knock out battle: rap 5

knock out battle: capoeira 6

knock out battle: first hit 7

knock out battle: cry 8

knock out battle: persona 9

knock out battle: glee 10

ACTOR'S HELL/ ROUND 1

knock out battle: argue 1

knock out battle: primary 2

knock out battle: drift 3

knock out battle: tailor 4

knock out battle: schizophrenia 5

knock out battle: refuge 6

knock out battle: score 7

knock out battle: wonder woman 8

knock out battle: scratch 9

knock out battle: first blood 10

HARBINGER'S/ KISS & TELL

knock out battle: selena 1

knock out battle: USA 2

knock out battle: arabic hit & run 3

knock out battle: war cry 4

knock out battle: alif 5

knock out battle: zainab 6

knock out battle: mowgli 7

knock out battle: ya' mom 8

knock out battle: A 9

knock out battle: somalian brother 10

MAESTRO BECOME/ REAL STEEL

knock out battle: atom 1

knock out battle: zeus 2

knock out battle: schwarzenegger 3

knock out battle: russo 4

knock out battle: magneto 5

knock out battle: spectrum 6

knock out battle: idaho 7

knock out battle: tokyo drift 8

knock out battle: south park 9

knock out battle: saudi 10

DANTE'S PARADOX/ GRIMES

knock out battle: capaldi 1

knock out battle: deus-ex 2

knock out battle: funzilla 3

knock out battle: wylde 4

knock out battle: sega 5

knock out battle: stallone 6

knock out battle: finn the human 7

knock out battle: shelby 8

knock out battle: saira 9

knock out battle: levils 10

JUDGEMENT DAY/HANUMAN

knock out battle: sheyiro 1

knock out battle: persephone 2

knock out battle: keanu reeves 3

knock out battle: john wick 4

knock out battle: rachel berry 5

knock out battle: tweety pie 6

knock out battle: p*rn hub 7

knock out battle: rogue 8

knock out battle: x-men 9

knock out battle: kinder egg 10

GAIMAN'S HELL/ SANDMAN

(all 5 winner's debate: SAUDI WOMEN'S CONGRESS like a man would (mother's carry their reputation permanently)

ENERGY ATTAINED/REMOVED

knock out battle: Robert deNiro 1 -sucked at/why?-

knock out battle: Michael Douglas 2 -i like that/no-

knock out battle: Matt Damon 3 -where?/what?-

knock out battle: Peter Cushing 4 -did you?/i did not-

knock out battle: Elizabeth Taylor 5 -fact/huh?-

knock out battle: John Travolta 6 -honour/undead-

knock out battle: Woody Allen 7 -nothing/wonder-

knock out battle: Gary Busey 8 -lost at/losing-

knock out battle: James Woods 9 -knockout/rocky logic-

knock out battle: Billie Piper 10 -i did that/no you did not (emperor's new groove logic)-

WINNER'S ADVANTAGE: KING OF FIGHTERS

King Of Fighter's logic kicks in: you passed Earth to live in video game logic (works for free)

you hate living it (group vibe)

Sonny with a chance

arguments are not there anymore

you're made eternal (immortal) like the sane

[yellows-secret-blog]

Faroeverse AU where everything happens pretty much normally, PI Faroe kills her partner Parker when gets possessed by this entity that soon decides wants to be called Jane Doe

Pretty regular

But here's the details

Faroe always hesitates when talking about her father, she seems to have a bad history with him, although she never really elaborates, Jane assumes he is dead

She always hesitates when speaking her last name, at some point, inspired by Jane, she decides to go only by Faroe Saltzman

She often mentions a childhood friend and a sister that died before she was even born, she often mentions the fear of being alone, and how isolated she felt growing up

Faroe is also way more chill with the supernatural than Arthur, unlike him, she isn't an atheist at all, she's more of an agnostic, but still despises religion and cults just like og Arthur

She spares the widow and is very sympathetic of the wrath in the house (s1), she doesn't feel scared by the ghostly presence at all

And then we get to season 3

She asks Yellow to describe the cabin, and goes stone silent.

"I know where we are. We need to get out of here now."

People at the red right hand aren't hostile to her at all, she learns about the scientist car and doesn't hesitate on looking for it

Yellow tries to press her for more information, all she gets is silence

Faroe doesn't get attacked by the thing in the mines, she in fact slips very ungracefully and hits her head

She wakes up in the Larson manor to the sound of someone pacing around in her room,

"You woke up!" Says a worried voice "I am going to call mister Larson"

He leaves, and Yellow keeps pressing.

"Do you know these people?! What the fuck is happening, Faroe?!"

Mr. Larson arrives and Yellow describes both men as looking anxiously at her.

"So you're back, my dear" says Larson.

"Faroe, who are these people?!" Demands Yellow.

"The tall one," Faroe says through gritted teeth "is my biological father, Arthur Lester." Referring to the man previously pacing around in the room.

"And the other one" she complements, fillied with rage "Is the child-killer monster who raised me."

Ha! I tricked you! This was @cypresswood3 Secretary Arthur AU all along!

Explanation:

20 year old Arthur leaves to work for Larson without knowing Bella is pregnant, once she dies and Daniel dies as well (for plot convenience), he takes responsibility of the kid and raises her within the Larson manor as well. In this AU in specific (not my idea btw) Arthur ends up getting the surname Larson as well bc cypress really like platonic Larthur or something so I just rolled with it, so

Faroe ends up growing up thinking Larson is her father while Arthur is some sort of cousin or something

She also has an imaginary friend, a girl around 6/7 years old who seems to know all the good places in the manor and even shows her the secret passages, entrances to hidden rooms and the best places for hide and seek, but she always hides away when a grown up is around

Her name is Addison, Arthur thinks it's adorable her imaginary friend has the name of the city, Larson is shitting his pants.

As the years go by Faroe expexts to stop seeing her imaginary friend, or that at least her friend will grow up with her. None of those happen, of course, in fact Addison is the one that stops recognizing Faroe, she doesn't disappear when Faroe's around, but doesn't seem to realize "her friend Faroe" she talks about so much is right in front of her.

Faroe ends up doing some genealogy work for the Larson family and finds... Inconsistencies. Yes, Wallace Larson is her great-grandfather, but which one of his children is Andrew Larson's father? There's only dead ends, all his children died at a young age. She ends up doing an investigation of her own, leading her to the order of the fallen star, where by piecing rumour after rumour she finds out the truth and everything just... Clicks.

Why her friend knew so much, why she never grew up, why she was so scared of Larson. But even more, the rushed conversations between Larson and Arthur, the visitors she'd only see come in, but never out, the books she was never allowed to touch, the "business trips" she was never given information on. It all made sense.

And it disgusted her.

To learn the people she loved and idolized where... Monsters. Liars.

So she ran away, took the Lester surname, met Parker, started as a secretary until he saw her detective potential, it has been less than a week since her name was put on the door. Lester and Yang private investigators. And then she opened that damned book.

Anyway that's it that's my silly au yayayayay

[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

Sister Barnes obviously would not have ended up in the last locked room--Mr. Reed had her marked for death and Sister Paxton marked for "conversion" from very early on--but if through some series of bizarre flukes she had, I think the "control" thing would have backfired with her, too. Not in the same way, though; it doesn't work on Paxton because Paxton does not care about that aspect of religion in the first place. Paxton is a creature of ward events and horrifying jello recipes to her core, in full Indelicates-album I-don't-care-if-it's-true mode to the point of treating it as a food-for-thought curiosity that if she had been born and raised in some other time and place her religious beliefs would be different. That fundamental lack of interest in the subject, while it's presented as something admirable about Paxton, isn't why it wouldn't work on Barnes, a woman who's thrown herself into Mormon missionary work (of all things!) after a chaotic adolescence filled with experiences like losing a parent, moving across the country, and hints of sexual acting-out. Barnes is there for structure and meaning, so much so that she is a more successful missionary than Paxton despite personally being all but openly agnostic. I think that the "control" thing wouldn't work on Barnes because she already knows and sees it as a good thing.

A big thanks to @eucatastrophicblues and @canastigone for workshopping a lot of this interpretation with me yesterday.

[veezm0]

Good morning to Dr. Sunshine, Mr. Capgras, compound fractures, babies with autism, ceiling fans, dandelion seeds, people trying to replace themselves, apples and worms, special and strange people, cicadas, mushrooms, leaves fallen from trees, vampires, teenage screaming sweetbreads, people with stevens-johnson syndrome, Hungarian harmonics, lipstick on the mirror, skeletons and various bones, old-time religion, red moons, places to get away from it all, people who don't remember 2012, murderers, agnostics, people captured in the ice, policemen, people who are afraid of the dark, those who are the sunshine and the moon at night, thermodynamic lawyers, main characters, protagonists, antagonists, rhumbas, campers, computers, people who wish to be a girlfriend-boyfriend, 2ight 2eers, people with shovels, those who were sent by heaven, boys, girls, neither, both and in-between, and people who are going to stay awake tonight.

[block-tales-headcanons]

So, you know those religious proverbs and npc dialogue in wrath?

This gave me the idea that Player was once religious or part of a cult. But then they experienced some religious trauma/guilt and beccame agnostic.

Bonus headcanon/theory: Player was a prophet/idol, much like MR from Regretevator

do you think they worshipped the spa— *gunshots*

[btvsfemslashenjoyer]

Ok so thoughts on The Harvest! I’m always interested in worldbuilding so it’s hard not to focus on two key pieces of lore which are hammered home in this episode and then… sort of maintained for the rest of the show without ever really being explained that much more. I am referring, of course, the origins of demons and Vampire-Human Non-Identity Thesis.

So: the episode opens with Giles doing a little exposition speech about how demons used to rule the world and will try to take it back and… I have mixed feelings. What I really like is that it efficiently communicates two big things that the show is not going to do. First, it’s not a Christian show. Despite the fact that crosses and holy water seem to work against vampires, and (in S2E1) consecrated ground burns them, this is not a setting where angels, God, or Jesus are going to save you. And the show mostly sticks to this! There’s even a semi-explicit swipe at genesis: “contrary to popular mythology, [the world] did not begin as a paradise.” Second, it’s not going to try for some tenuous “scientific” explanation where vampirism is a virus or a fungus or something like that. It’s going in between: clearly supernatural, but basically agnostic. Science and religion are both wildly off-base.

What I don’t like is… how vague and uninformative it is? Giles says “this world is older than any of you know” like what do you MEANNN? How old do you think we think it is? Older than 6,000 years of biblical stuff or older than 4,000,000,000 years of geological records? “For untold eons demons walked the Earth […] in time they lost their purchase on this reality. The way was made for mortal animals, for, for man.” Which mortal animals? All of them? Am I supposed to interpret this as saying that demons ruled the world 550,000,000 years ago and then their disappearance caused the Cambrian explosion? First demons, then trilobites? Or is it that demons ruled the earth until a couple million years ago, when humans in particular somehow drove them away? So demons co-existed with dinosaurs? Or am I supposed to conclude that the whole evolutionary story about the evolution of life is false (which, I’m sorry Mr. Rupert, I refuse to do, you will need more than a really old book and an English accent to persuade me of that)?

In particular, I don’t think we ever get a clear account of how or why demons left this reality… which is actually pretty important, given that the prospect of them taking it back is so frequently raised as a great big threat? Whatever it is that drove them out, if it’s still present then why would they be able to recolonise the world just from a portal being opened?

But also: I know that really I should be grateful, because if they had really committed to a specific origin story… it would probably be bad? Maybe it is better that I can stick with my Cambrian explosion headcanons?

Ok and: this episode really commits to “the person you knew is already dead, there’s just a demon piloting their body around.” It’s a bit ironic that they use Jesse for this, since Jesse’s personality, read uncharitably, is basically vampire-in-waiting: all we know is that he desires this person (Cordelia) and doesn’t seem to care what she wants. So it’s hardly surprising that he expresses no sense of loss or remorse about becoming a more purely predatory being. I dunno. Probably in his own head there’s a rich and sensitive interiority but we never see it so… anyway it is too late to start arguing about Buffy soul lore so I won’t…

One other random thought: I loved “They’re close.” “How can you tell?” “No more rats.”

Sometimes I think when Amy got returned to human form she should have retained more rat-affinity (can turn into a rat at will? because her body remembers? natural rapport with other rats?) and become a major asset, given how there are rats all over town and they seemingly don’t like vampires. But of course wanting Amy to have something to show for spending years as a mostly-forgotten joke would presuppose the more basic level of caring about Amy as a character and we know the writers don’t…

[darkpeacemusic]

ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕪𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕒 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤: ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤

Jeff the Killer - Agonistic

Homicidal Liu - Catholic

Sully - Catholic

Randy - Atheist

Keith - Agnostic

Troy - Theistic Protestant

Ben - Atheist

Jane Richardson - Christian

Mary Vaughn - Agnostic

Jessie Richardson - Christian

Masky - Jewish

Hoodie - Agnostic

Toby Rogers - Atheist

Kate the Chaser - Atheist

Charlie Matheson Jr. - Atheist

CR - Jewish

Lulling Lauren - Wiccan

Cat Hunter - Hellenic Pagan

Third Base - Atheist

Rouge the Prowler - Wiccan

Wilson the Basher - Hindu

Skully - Jewish

Chris the Revenant - Satanist

Slenderman - N/A

Splendorman - N/A

Trenderman - N/A

Tenderman - N/A

Offenderman - N/A

Zalgo - N/A

LJ - Atheist

EJ - Satanist

Dr. Smiley - Satanist

Nurse Ann - Satanist

Dr. Pain - Agnostic

X-Virus - Wiccan

Dr. Locklear - Christian

Lifeless Lucy - Atheist

Lily Kennett - Muslim

Sally Williams - Christian

Sam Williams - Atheist

Lazari - Satanist

Slendrina - Atheist

Slender Doll Ally - Agnostic

Vailly Evans - Wiccan, pagan

Lulu - Buddhist

Bleeding Man - Atheist

Shadow Walker - Atheist

Arcane - Atheist

Nick Vanill - Atheist

Nina Hopkins - Agnostic

Pinkamena Diane Pie - Atheist

Rainbow Factory - Satanist

Julius the Dressmaker - Unknown

Killian - Unknown

Kagekao - Shintoist

Clockwork - Atheist

Smile Dog - N/A

Grinny Cat - N/A

Seedeater - N/A

Mr. Widemouth - Atheist

Will Grossman - Satanist

Laughing Jill - Agnostic

Jason the Toymaker - Atheist

Candy Pop - Atheist

Candy Cane - Atheist

April Fools - Christian

Nathan the Nobody - Jewish

Papa Grande Di Magico - Agnostic

The Puppeteer - Satanist

Emra - Atheist

Zachary the Proxy - Atheist

Sonic.exe - Satanist

Tails Doll - Atheist

Dark Link - Satanist

Herobrine - Satanist

Lost Silver - Atheist

Glitchy Red - Atheist

Strangled Red - Agnostic

Oliver Henderson - Atheist

Stripes - Atheist

Rosie - Wiccan

Scarecrow Girl - Satanist

Jenny Shinku - Theistic Satanist

Lyet - Agonistic

Moth Boy - Spiritualist

Gas Mask Maid - Agonistic

Nightcrawler - Spiritualist

Skroll - Atheist

Rake - N/A

BOB - N/A

Bloody Painter - Theistic Satanist

Judge Angels - Christian

Chris Revenge - Atheist

Vicky Genocidal - Wiccan

Hannah the Killer - Jewish

Suicide Sadie - Christian

Roadwalker - Animist

Zero - Satanist

Hobo Heart - Atheist

Dollmaker - Atheist

Killing Kate - Wiccan

Ted the Caver - Agnostic

Frankie the Undead - Hellenic Pagan

Evan Meyer - Atheist

HABIT - Satanist

Jeff Koval - Atheist

Alex Kralie - Atheist

Jessica Locke - Catholic

Amy Walters - Jewish

Sarah Reid - Agnostic

Seth Wilson - Christian

Ellie - Spiritualist

Victor - Jewish

The Sight - Atheist

Clowny - Satanist

Vince Wilson - Atheist

Stan Fredrick - Christian

KindVonDerRitter - Satanist

Michael Andersen - Agnostic

OCs

Screaming Dawn (oc) - Agnostic

Queen Blackheart (oc) - Wiccan

Smiles (oc) - Atheist

The Tod Killer (oc) - Pagan

Night Stalker (oc) - Spiritualist

[liaromancewriter]

I Thee Wed…

Premise: Ethan and Cassie are ready to say, ‘I do,’ but they forget one important step.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,560

A/N: So, I first did Ethan and Cassie's wedding in June 2021. In all that time, I've never written their wedding vows. Maxenna's vows were easier to write. Well, I finally cracked this nut! Yay, me 🎉

Submission for @choicesaugustchallenge prompt "summer wedding"

Cassie Valentine updated the patient chart and mentally crossed off another item from her seemingly endless to-do list. In just nine days, she would stand in the garden of her family home and marry her soulmate.

She couldn’t contain a small, excited scream, a dreamy smile spreading across her face as she imagined Ethan’s awestruck expression when she glided toward him at the floral-decked altar. But, she thought with a smirk, she couldn’t wait to knock him over on their wedding night with what she had on beneath the layers of tulle.

All in good time, Cassie reasoned, turning her attention back to work.

“Marlene?” she called to one of the regular nurses on her floor, handing over the tablet with the patient record. “Keep an eye on potassium levels for Mr. Dubois in 504. Page me if there’s any change in his condition.”

“Will do, Dr. Valentine,” Marlene nodded, scanning the chart quickly to confirm the orders.

She flashed Cassie a friendly smile. “Are you excited about the wedding? You and Dr. Ramsey make such a beautiful couple.”

“I’m counting the minutes,” Cassie grinned. “I have a final fitting for the dress next week, but otherwise, we’re all set.”

“Summer weddings are the best,” another nurse piped in. “Flowers are my favorite part.”

“I love hearing the couple’s vows,” Marlene said. “Are you and Dr. Ramsey writing your own?”

Cassie nodded in response, keeping her expression smooth even as alarm bells blared inside her head. Crap, crap, crap!

Between work, packing up her things at the apartment for the move to Ethan’s and coordinating with Sienna and her mom on the wedding, she had forgotten entirely about the vows.

She and Ethan had negotiated a hybrid ceremony, honoring her Episcopalian beliefs and his agnostic ones. He had agreed to have a priest officiate and receive a spiritual blessing in exchange for non-religious but personal vows, no Communion, hymns or readings.

Writing their own vows had sounded so simple before. A few words of promise, a declaration of their love, exchange rings and you-may-kiss-the-bride. End scene.

But now she realized it was anything but easy. Worse, she had no idea what she would say on the most important day of her life!

The pen dug into the paper, leaving dark, jagged lines on the legal pad as Ethan scratched out yet another sentence. His handwriting, usually neat and precise despite the doctor-like scrawl, had turned into a chaotic mess of crossed-out words and half-formed thoughts. Frustration simmered in his chest, his mind spinning as he tried to wrestle his emotions into something coherent.

He sighed, leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his temple. Sitting through a room full of demanding board members was a walk in the park compared to this. How was he supposed to find the words powerful enough to capture the depth of what he felt for Cassie?

Each attempt felt clumsy and inadequate, the words slipping away from him no matter how hard he tried. Irritated with himself, he muttered a curse under his breath, tearing the paper from the pad and crumpling it into a tight ball. It joined the other pieces of crumpled paper balls scattered around him.

Why had he insisted on their own vows? Should’ve just taken a template and been done with it.

He had been working on them all week and was no closer to the finish line. He had tried writing at home, in his office with the door closed and on a bench in the serenity garden at Edenbrook. Eventually, he retreated to Derry’s Coffee Shop in the hope that a place special to them both would inspire him.

The wedding was a week away, and he did not relish the idea of standing at the altar with nothing more to say than “I do” while Cassie no doubt recited something meaningful about him being her soulmate.

“Tough case?”

Startled, Ethan looked up to find Cassie standing above him.

He had been so absorbed in his frustrated scribbling that he hadn’t even noticed her enter the coffee shop, place her order and walk over to him.

“You could say that,” he hedged, hoping she wouldn’t press for more.

“Maybe I can help,” she suggested, sliding into the seat across from him.

Before he could stop her, she reached for the pad, and he blurted out, “No!” even as she read the words out loud.

“Cassie, my love for you is like an unspecified virus that I couldn’t shake….”

Ethan saw the look of shock on Cassie’s face. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened slightly. For a moment, they just stared at each other in stunned silence.

“Wait, are these your wedding vows? And did you just compare me to a virus?”

Ethan quickly tried to recover, realizing how the words sounded when said aloud. “I—I didn’t mean it like that. What I’m trying to say is that my love for you is something I never expected, something that took hold of me and changed everything.”

Cassie blinked, and then, to his relief, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Babe, I appreciate the on-brand medical analogy, especially since I diagnosed Naveen’s bacteriophage, but maybe we can find a less…clinical way to describe it? This is our wedding, after all, not a keynote at the AMA annual symposium.”

“A keynote at the AMA would be easier than these damn vows,” Ethan muttered, running an exasperated hand through his hair.

He picked up his coffee and looked at her over the rim. “I suppose you’ve already written a masterpiece?”

To his surprise, Cassie blushed and looked away. “Not exactly. If you must know, I kind of forgot about them.”

She waved one hand dismissively. “Anyway, this isn’t about me. If you’re struggling, just focus on us, our relationship—what makes me the one for you? How you see our life together. Things like that.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “That’s some solid advice.” He reached for his phone, unlocking the screen. “In fact, it’s almost identical to the advice I got from another Valentine just a couple of hours ago. Ah, here it is.” He turned the screen to show her the text from Max.

Cassie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That cheat!” She snatched the phone from Ethan’s hand, scrolling up to check the time stamp. It was from earlier in the day before she’d texted her brother. “He totally copy-pasted his response to me!”

Ethan chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Looks like great minds think alike…or at least steal from each other. When did you speak to him?”

Cassie gave him a sheepish look. “Maybe half an hour ago. ”

“Isn’t it the middle of the night where he is?”

She rolled her eyes and made a face. “I know. Max wasn’t thrilled, which is probably why I ended up with recycled advice.”

She straightened in her chair, a hint of frustration in her voice. “I can’t seem to find the right words for our vows. At least you managed to compare me to a virus—I’ve got a completely blank page.”

Ethan chuckled softly, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand gently. “How about we work on them together? We always did our best work figuring out diagnostic differentials as a team. Why should wedding vows be any different?”

Cassie’s smile widened. “Just promise you won’t tell my mother this is how we wrote our vows, or I’ll have to call you a big, fat liar!”

“Deal.”

Nine days later…

Ethan faced Cassie, a deep contentment settling over him, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. As he held her hands in his, the words that once eluded him now flowed as naturally as breathing.

“Cassie, when I first met you, I had no idea we’d end up here, but from that moment on, you’ve captivated me in ways I never imagined. You’ve challenged me, frustrated me and inspired me to be a better person. And I've fallen in love with you again and again, even though I didn’t believe love or family were in the cards for me. You opened my heart to more. I promise to support and encourage you, embrace the unexpected with you, and always work on being the best version of myself for you. I vow to hold your hand and cherish your heart, loving you always and forever.”

Cassie flashed a mischievous grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she held Ethan’s gaze, recalling the day they wrote these vows. Her voice was light and playful as she began, making it clear she was savoring every moment.

“Ethan, from the moment you walked into my life—full of arrogance, calling me an amateur—everything changed in ways I never could have predicted. I told you then I was your biggest fan, but that barely scratched the surface of my feelings for you. I can’t imagine a single day without you, and I hope I never do. I promise to stand by your side, to love you fiercely—even when you’re driving me a little crazy—and to choose you every day, no matter what. You are my partner, my soulmate and my greatest adventure. I vow to cherish your heart with all that I am, always and forever.”

And then they lived happily ever after…

------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @lady-calypso

@mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16

@justyourusualash @tessa-liam @liaficreplies @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate