#and learning one thing: abstinence before marriage

[itsdefinitely]

i wanna know more about the jerries/jeris

do you want to know the most horrific thing about them?

the lords did nothing to make them the way they are.

yes, the jerry jr was turned into the axeman because of the witchwood, which does what it does because of the lords, but everything leading up to that is just human nature. i see the "girl jeri is nibbly" or "they were influenced by a lord to do the thngs they do" and i need people to understand that that's just. not true. they're just like that. they were taught to be like that by their parents and, more accurately, their church. it's horrifyingly accurate how religion has shaped them into non-functional human beings, who would rather potentially lose their child to the many, many dangers of the literal woods than admit that they had sex outside of marriage.

it's only because it's hatchetfield that jerry jr grew the way he did. there was no lord's intervention in their decision to keep the baby, or to drop out of school to care for him, or to keep him seperated from any other people, or to revolve their lives around the idea that they'd committed a sin and needed to pay by pushing celibacy rather than. i don't know. properly raising their child. it was the way they were taught. the toxic pushing of overexaggerated christian ideals is what molded them. can you imagine being in their place? being a scared teenager and knowing that if you told any of the people you care about most your secret that they would shun you and disown you?

the only people they felt any kind of safe around were each other; of course they're going to be codependent. and even then, they're disgusted by each other for leading them to sin. they're stuck together unwillingly, because without the other, they're alone.

[doll-elvis]

Why did Elvis not have full sex with a lot of women he dated

some of y’all’s questions never fail to make my mouth drop- but thank you for the ask!! 😃

I actually do think this is an interesting subject although a little awkward to discuss so I just wanna say a disclaimer:

I obviously didn’t know Elvis in real life, I’m not a psychologist, and only Elvis knows why he did the things he did, all we can do is speculate based on the sources that we have

so based on what I have read I think the reason he often preferred foreplay as opposed to penetrative s*x had to do with both his physical body and his religious/southern/conservative upbringing

According to Lamar Fike “He didn’t like penetration that much because he was uncircumcised, and sometimes intercourse tore his foreskin and he’d bleed”

Marty Lacker also commented “Elvis was a little ashamed of being uncircumcised. Maybe he thought it was old-fashioned or kind of country. He mentioned once that s*x was a little painful sometimes because the foreskin tore”

Elvis was born at home and Gladys and Vernon, like many parents, couldn’t afford to have the procedure done. For some reason there is a stigma against uncircumcised men in the U.S and I often see it being associated with uncleanliness (which is probably why Elvis showed Joyce Bova how he cleaned it, iykyk🤧) However for Elvis I think he also saw it as a mark of his impoverished upbringing like Marty Lacker suggested and reportedly Elvis referred to little Elvis as a “hillbilly pecker”

And in the later years I understand that the prescription medication often made Elvis impotent, also I’m sure he just suffered from general exhaustion considering how much performed

Lamar Fike said “Dr. Nick wasn’t giving Elvis testosterone just to make him more virile onstage. Shit, no. He gave it to him for impotence. You couldn’t dope up that much and get a hard-on if Elizabeth Taylor stuck her ass in your face”

Peggy Lipton who he briefly dated said: “A heavy making out and petting session ensued. The petting went on for a quite a while. And then we made love. Or tried to… he was virtually impotent because of the drugs”

However I think it’s untrue to say that Elvis never enjoyed intercourse. According to Barbara Leigh whenever her and Elvis hooked up they would often consummate twice in one night. Joyce Bova and Diana Goodman also gave some very descriptive and frequent stories of their s*x life with him in their books 👀 and of course there have been a lot more women who have said they went all the way with him

Sheila Ryan said “We did have a very active passionate romantic life. Sometimes more than I was ready for, prepared for. Sometimes I was tired and it was ‘no, no, no’. So, you know, I’m really surprised to hear that other women had a problem with the lack of intimacy and s*x”

(once again I wish I was Sheila Ryan in the 70s !!)

Anyways, as I said before I also think his religious and southern upbringing had a lot to do with how he viewed s*x

Joe Esposito said “Despite his s*xual escapades, Elvis had a disarming naïveté when it came to women and s*x. Deep down, he believed s*x and fatherhood were for marriage”

Elvis was raised in and believed in a culture where s*x was strictly for marriage and so he simply found other ways to please himself. I also think he occasionally felt religious guilt for acting out s*xually so that is why he sometimes tried to be fully abstinent, like that one time in the 60s he told Priscilla that he had to learn to control himself from lust

Y’all know when Lana Del Rey said in the national anthem monologue “I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him”?

That quote has always reminded me of Elvis😭!!

I think he was stuck between his love for women (plus the fact that so many were available to him) and his religious upbringing (believing that s*x and virginity were something sacred)

what do y’all think?

[shih-coulda-had-it]

Five head canon game:

AU AFO is All Might's Bio dad and All Might Izuku Bio dad family drama ensues, can be afohiko if you so desire!

hope you have a nice day!

Another addition to the dfohiko verse! Alright then,

Similar set-up to previous dfohiko branches. Toshinori spends a few years in the States. He returns to Japan when he’s in his mid-to-late 20s, and with Sorahiko’s info, and makes excellent headway in dismantling AfO’s network at the expense of exposing his identity to AfO. AfO is displeased with his son’s decision to reject the ‘good’ family legacy, complains to his followers about red-blooded, hot-tempered youths, and receives the following tentative question: Does Toshinori have a significant other? A boyfriend? A girlfriend? A partner in general?

AfO, who romanced and married and had a child with Sorahiko by Toshinori’s current age: omg you’re so right. He just needs to redirect his passions elsewhere, and then he’ll realize what a terrible world this is to raise a child. Who among you have weddable progeny? To clarify, I want you all to know that this WILL lead me to be that child’s father in-law, and I WILL be taking all grandparent rights.

The thing is, it’s not enough to just fling sexy singles in the area into Toshinori’s path. Toshinori is, worryingly, taking after Sorahiko’s practice of abstinence and just not going on any of the dates that AfO is setting up. So AfO hops over to Sorahiko’s place to complain about their son’s destructive habits, and the lack of grandchildren being brought into the world. The unexpected turn of conversation tricks Sorahiko into thinking, ‘Oh, shit, I’ve accidentally taught my son that love is a nightmare and marriage is a deal with the devil.’

By the time Toshinori entered his late thirties, he’s obliviously rejected any and every potential spouse that AfO AND Sorahiko have set before him. His parents are in despair, though for different reasons. Then. THEN. On a rare evening of freedom, Toshinori spies a despondent young woman sitting alone at a table, holding a book with a red rose’s stem tucked inside like a marker. People are side-eyeing her. He hesitates, but takes the plunge, politely asking Inko if he can sit opposite of her while grabbing his dinner. She’s grateful, but equally wary.

They order dinner, and drinks, and in the meantime, conversation happens. A tentative spark of connection happens. One dinner turns into another, and another. Toshinori nervously confesses to Inko that he has no model for a happy marriage, but he knows what good partners do for each other. He remembers that much, at least. And Inko promises that whatever family they’ve left behind, the one they’ll make will be better. 

+1 Izuku is born; Sorahiko learns about his grandson when Izuku manifests the tell-tale AfO hand holes at age four, and a panicked Toshinori calls for advice; AfO learns four years after that, when he crashes All Might’s Bring Your Child to Work Day.

[divinekangaroo]

i might be super late to the party but i was lurking in he tags and: i would LOVE some more explanation/in depth study of what was going on with Tommy and Finn, especially in the last season. I am still, not confused per es, but just wondering alot about some of the choices

This is so interesting, isn't it, particularly when you look at it comparing what 30yo Tommy says to 11yo Finn in S1 versus what 43yo Tommy says to 25yo Finn in S6.

I will warn this isn't coherent in ANY WAY as my infant is being grumpy, but here's a lump of things which struck me as worthy of indepth consideration:

-S1 Tommy telling Finn "don't be me" versus S6 where Tommy basically forces Finn to break his promise to his wife and drink, a mimicry of all the things Tommy has done (go abstinent, fall off the wagon, break promises to his wives).

-Finn being present at all the various violences the Shelby brothers commit, including as a child picking out his own machete (!!!) for one of the mob battles (think it was Epsom?); doing this well enough that he had a reputation -- Songbird Lady in S5 knew enough about the Shelbys to name her new Songbirds 'Tommy, Arthur and Finn'.

-Accidentally or deliberately, Tommy having set up Finn to develop Tommy's vices - cigarettes, drinking, drugs, whoring - pretty much all by the time Finn turned 16. But S5 Tommy nevertheless being very opposed to Finn developing Tommy's vice for violence and risk-tasking, albeit framed as 'we're too high in criminal hierarchy to do grunt work now' not 'you of all of us never have to risk yourself'

-Finn being involved in and integrated into all their illegal business but as a sort of free labour, gopher ('go for'/fetch like an apprentice, or a squire to a knight) - manning the door, bringing around the car, etc

-Finn seeming to hero-worship Tommy, but actually having a brotherly emotional relationship with Arthur. Tommy to emulate, Arthur to actually be a brother.

-Finn and Arthur being the only ones willing to entertain a conversation with their father on his return - Finn trusted Arthur not Tommy, Finn had no father figure, and Tommy did not fill this father figure space or Finn never would have gone with Arthur.

- Tommy brokering Arthur, John and Polly's marriages, and endorsing Ada's partnerships before the family accept them (and Tommy doing what he likes with his own marriages). Then, this way S6 Finn asks Tommy about marrying a girl 'who likes the life' and Tommy telling him no, 'find a girl who doesn't like the life'. And then Finn marries Mary with Tommy's endorsement to the family, and Mary tells Finn not to drink until after 6pm. I did wonder if Mary was the first girl, or was Mary a different girl that Tommy found/endorsed? Because Mary doesn't seem like a girl who likes the life if she's setting limitations on drinking time?

- Finn was effectively raised by Polly. The Shelby mother and father were gone by the time he was 1. Arthur and Tommy (and John) were gone to war by the time Finn was 5, and only returned at when he was 10. Finn had no father figure, ever.

---

So there's this odd push-pull where Finn is clearly one of the Bad Shelby Brothers, because at that time, having him integrated and present in their business was likely the best and easiest way to signify he was protected as well as keep an eye on him. They also used him very much like a squire to their knights, doing the labour and supportive chores and shitty jobs in order to learn the higher level jobs. But then those many conflicted occurances where it seems that Tommy wishes Finn wasn't so involved? Tommy wishes in many ways Finn was less invested in the business so Finn could be released from it? But maybe he doesn't, because Tommy in multiple circumstances challenges Finn with presentation of a vice and Finn always, always indulges -- even if that time, Tommy said don't rather than do?

---

Then we have this interesting symbolic thing happening in S6 between Duke and Finn and Tommy, all revolving around watches.

Duke steals Arthur's watch -- 'I can tell the time' - and in S5, Michael's supposed takeover piece has this strong sense of time -- time for the next generation to step up and time for old men like Tommy to step off the stage and Michael fully brings Finn into it (with Finn's consent/support, or unexpectedly??) and the camera focuses on Finn. So, linked to Michael's failed takeover via the motif of time, Duke can also tell it's time for the next generation, demonstrated by getting one over on ol' Arthur?

Then, Duke only believes Tommy is his father after Tommy explains about Duke's mum's watch that actually, Tommy stole in his youth; and Tommy's brought Duke into the fold so preciptiously because Tommy's (due to terminal diagnosis) running out of time to tidy up his family's loose ends and has to do this now. But also, Duke is symbolically returning time to Tommy that Tommy otherwise wouldn't have by bringing back Tommy's decades-old stolen watch?

Then Tommy has that explosion at Finn about drinking when he wants to and uses Finn's watch to make his point: that says Shelby and you're a Shelby so you tell the watch what time it is. Behind all that is this sense that I bet Tommy wishes he could control time, too, because he'd love to wind it back right now that his time is running out, but also, Finn is a young Shelby and could determine it's time for himself to step up if he simply stopped doing what Tommy kept telling him to do?

In a world where Tommy wasn't running out of time and/or Duke didn't appear, I imagine Finn may have been brought to one side for a quiet chat about Billy Grade and his role in Polly's death. I imagine Finn would have been absolutely destroyed that his sole true caretaker figure was dead because of his loose tongue. I imagine he would have killed Billy, or at least supported Billy being executed. But in this world, Tommy is dying and running out of time, and Tommy is delegating many of his painful tasks to others to do because he can't do everything right now, and why not test both Duke and Finn? Test this next generation as to their readiness to take his place? And who's left in the next generation but for Finn and Duke given Michael's proven himself unsuitable and Charlie is far too young? (I'm sure Uncle Charlie probably had some secret remit to re-home Duke if Duke failed in that scenario too)

---

And I also find it a super interesting parallel that Tommy forces Finn to demonstrate Shelby family loyalty by shooting his best friend, an act Tommy himself did with shooting Alfie for Alfie's betrayal that nearly killed Arthur. In this instance Arthur only almost died so Alfie only almost died - whereas Billy had to really fully die.

---

I mean, none of this gets to a satisfactory conclusion, it's just a bunch of conflicted threads/thoughts. I feel Tommy was vaguely treating Finn like a squire in a faint anticipation of one having Finn step up and take over the business from him, there's a near 20-year age gap between them, but Tommy was always conflicted by this because 1) he didn't really want his littlest brother to have to do the same shit he did, and 2) Finn was not leadership material, smart or cunning in any way, he was really just a consumer of the Shelby proceeds and always obeyed and never really acted to assert himself in the hierarchy. This faintest possibility of Finn taking over was then derailed heavily by Michael who was smart so Tommy dropped those vague unformed thoughts about Finn, but after Tommy knew Michael would be out of the picture in some way in S4 when suspicions start to rise? Finn starts to show up again in Tommy's arc in a very different way, and is put under various levels of pressure, right up to this S6 contrived scenario between Finn and Duke.

I get a sense that over time, Tommy challenged Finn repeatedly with situations of vice, corruption, conflict, difficulty, in the hope Finn would demonstrate enough strength to push back against Tommy instead of performing the vice. But Finn never did, and even when he fucked up, it was a silly mistake not worthy of any respect, not even in the way Michael is worthy of the respect of being killed; and so he is always framed in Tommy's mind as the weak one. There's a clannish behaviour (where clans are about constantly fluid status, not granted/earned and static rank) where you only get status if you behave in a way that already is of that status. Finn never, ever did this. Tommy then contrives a situation of extreme pressure as a last ditch effort to see if Finn will stop being that squire, weak one, or will he finally act according to the status he should be able to claim.

It's also this working class thing of dumping shit and abuse on your sons until your sons are strong enough to force you to stop. Finn's not a son, but that mentality...

---

I'm sorry this is so rambly, one of those fun things that it takes more time to be brief and succinct than just word-vomit on a screen XD Post S6, I have only two fic concepts in my to-write list, and one of them is 100% about Finn, trying to reconcile all of the above. I think Finn's actor did an amazing job of packing so much pain into that final scene it'd be a disappointment if any eventual movie doesn't give him a heavy arc.

[avesblues2]

I just wanted to share something with you, given the current topic of abortion and I think it's good that people tell their stories. I'm a pro-lifer who, at one point, was very liberal and open about it. This means I was also pro-choice with no questions asked. I thought that women should always have a choice, however I didn't think that abortion until birth (or murder after birth) was ever a good option. From a general stand point, it's a morality thing. From a selfish stand point, my mom had me in her early 40s and her doctor tried convincing her many times to abort me because I might have been born with autism or Down Syndrome (I don't have either, but that's not a reason to abort a baby. She even said she didn't care if I was born with either, she would love me either way). I'm glad that my mom didn't abort me, as she's had experiences with it before me and she has learned so much since then. There are plenty of women that were either pro-choice and/or had abortions, but have since changed their views drastically and for the better BECAUSE of pro-aborts and because of trauma. There is a very clear difference now between pro-choice and pro-abort. Pro-choice, to me, seems to strongly dislike or hate that abortion exists, but understand that women should have a choice and that you can't and shouldn't force someone to do something. Pro-aborts are literally pushing as abortion being the only way to prevent pregnancy. My issue was initially pro-choicers when I began to change my views towards more pro-life, but then I noticed that they (pro-aborts that piggybacked on pro-choice) don't stand up for choice. They want force, and they want death. I, honestly, don't have many issues or bones to pick with most pro-choicers, because a lot of them understand that abortion ends a human life. However, my biggest issues are with the pro-aborts because of, well, everything. They don't follow the science (lol, what a joke to say now), they disregard any woman that disagrees with them yet allow biological men to speak over us because of the trans community, they refuse to listen to pro-lifers when we tell them there are TONS of pro-life sources that help women, and a lot of it for free, because women DO struggle and no woman should have to worry about providing for her child. The pro-aborts have reinvented marriage and abstinence but made it Woke because pro-lifers were wrong about it for years, but they did it in 3 days and they're right? They made sex positivity into such a huge thing that all responsibility, education, and self respect left. Why yes, I DO think that people should wait to have sex and not just do it because they're horny. Why yes, I DO think that hookup culture is wrong and disgusting for various reasons. Why yes, I DO think that sex is normal, but it shouldn't be shared like a favorite ice cream flavor for everyone to know. It's a sacred thing that shouldn't be given away no matter if it's free, paid for, or benefits you, because in the end, casual sex benefits no one and hurts people physically and mentally. The fact that pro-aborts refuse all of these facts, all of the experiences of once pro-choices and how the pro-aborts pushed us to be pro-life, says all I need to know about their movement. It's not just that their movement is evil for the sake of it; they know what they're doing because they prey on women who are either; vulnerable, disabled, non-white, poor, have casual sex, have low self esteem/self respect, are young and/or uneducated, etc. They know that we know, and they hate that their predatory ways are slowly coming to an end. I can no longer feel sympathy for women who want to abort their baby, at any time, because there is literally so many options for them to actually prevent pregnancy, they're just upset that now they're going to have to have a regular income to invest in condoms or birth control. Pro-aborts would have uneducated women believe that no one becomes pro-life through their nonsense, but it's happened to me, and I am seeing it happen right before my eyes.

I'm amazed you were able to send an ask this long but good points.

[90363462]

Shutterstock

Is There Anything Wrong With Loving Sex But Hating Intimacy?

So, what if you like coitus but not cuddling?

Shellie R. Warren

Nov. 27, 2020 05:03PM EST

Based on my personal views on sex (that it shouldn't treated lightly or casually, and it's something that affects our mind, body and spirit—both the Bible and science will back that up; more on that in a sec), there used to be a time when I thought penning something like this would not be necessary. Yet, if you live long enough, life will teach you some things and expose you to a world of people who think totally different than you do. Between once working with a ministry that got people out of the sex industry and free from porn addiction, being a pregnant teen director for the local chapter of a national non-profit and then becoming a marriage life coach, I have met many (MANY) people who are kind, loving, generous—and also love the act of sex while pretty close to loathing the thought of engaging in physical intimacy.

For the record here, I'm not speaking of commitment-phobes. Those are a horse of a whole 'nother color, chile. No, I'm referring to those who are all about gettin' it in, as much as possible; however, when it comes to a ton of foreplay and definitely when it comes to any afterplay (or honestly, even when it comes to much physical intimacy in between romps), they are more than happy to take a pass. Oh, and before some of you roll your eyes and say to yourself, "Hmph. Sounds just like a dude", actually, who has shared this perspective with me the most have been women. So many, in fact, that I thought there had to be at least a handful of our readers who also can relate on some level.

So, let's do this. Let's dig into the polka dotted unicorns known as folks who love to have sex but can actually do without all of the physical intimacy stuff—whether in the bed or out. Is that problematic or not? Let's explore.

Is There Really Such a Thing as Sex Without ANY Kind of Intimacy?

As someone who grew up being taught that the Bible was to be the foundation for the choices I make, sex has always been seen as being pretty sacred to me. I'm pretty sure that anyone who is even remotely familiar with the Good Book knows that it says that sex is for married couples, period. Hmph. Come to think of it, I don't know of any holy books that say otherwise (definitely not the Qur'an or the Torah). And when it comes to Scripture, specifically, the verse that I've always adored is this:

Now here's the thing. As a woman who's never been married before (by choice, not by circumstance. I'm pretty sure many of you can say the same), you can read articles I've penned for the site like, "14 Lessons I've Learned From 14 Sex Partners" and "Why I Named The Children I Aborted" to know that I am certainly NOT the posterchild for abstinence (check out "I've Been Abstinent For 12 Years. Here's How."). I think that a part of it is because, although I do think that sex is absolutely best in a long-term relationship, the physical pleasure that comes from the act can make it REALLY HARD to turn it down, even if you're not "officially" with someone. That's why, I totally get it, when one of my married friends says to me, every time I hit another year of abstinence milestone, "It might be biblical, but it sure as hell ain't natural." Understood.

So why I am even approaching the topic of what sex is from this angle? Mostly it's because, when it comes to sex making two people one, whether you try and apply a holy book to your life or not, this is one area where religion and science are largely on the same page. Why do I say that? In walks, oxytocin.

Say that you don't subscribe to any particular faith or that you don't believe in God at all—science is still out here, making it abundantly clear, that there are hormones in your body that are designed to bond you to the person or people you have sex with. 

That's why I've written articles on here like, "Don't Mistake A Great Sex Partner For A Great Life Partner" and "We Should Really Rethink The Term 'Casual Sex'"; while physical pleasure is certainly a benefit of sex, it's important that you don't overlook the fact that sex can mentally and emotionally bond you to someone too. Don't believe me? Think about the guys you've dated who you didn't have sex with vs. the ones you did. 9 times outta 10, who was harder to shake? Be honest…with yourself.

You can Google articles about who has better sex—married people or single people (it's married folks). You can poll your friends about when they thought sex was better—in a long-term commitment or not. At the end of the day, it's kind of hard to get around the fact that while the mechanics of sex can be enjoyable, whether you're with your sexual partner or not, when the emotional intimacy component is in place, it's simply bar none better. And here's the thing—to a certain extent, oxytocin is gonna make damn sure that some level of attachment is cultivated…whether we want it to happen or not.

That's why, it's my personal belief that people who say that they like sex but hate intimacy may be in a bit of denial about the intimacy that transpires during the act, regardless of what they think is happening (or not happening). Yet when it comes to things like kissing and cuddling and them being semi-disgusted, let's pull back the curtain on that psyche, just a little bit more.

So, About Hating Physical Acts of Intimacy. What’s Up with That?

Some of y'all might remember, a few months back, when I wrote, "Umm, What's Up With These People Who Hate Kissing?". It was pretty enlightening, even to me, and I've been writing about sex for a couple of decades at this point. One woman I interviewed for the article said that her husband's tongue always feels awkward. A guy said that mouths feel wet and weird to him. What I found to be fascinating is, the people I spoke with didn't give me the impression that they had issues with physical intimacy, in general, so much as the mechanics of kissing itself. Got it. But what about physical intimacy overall? I decided to ask Melissa and Eric from that same article for their hot takes on that.

Melissa. Married. 29. "Funny that you would ask me this because I'm weird when it comes to physical intimacy. While I do like to hug my husband and I enjoy being close to him while we're watching television or something, during sex, I'll pass. Like cuddling after intercourse? All I can think about is that wet spot and how I want to get out of it. I don't know. 

"The sex is good but once it's over, I enjoy my personal space. I'm just now thinking that it might be because, once you've been that open with another person, you need to retreat to gain your bearings a bit. Does that make sense? I wouldn't say that I hate physical intimacy so much as, to me, it's just not all that necessary."

Eric. Single. 25. "I'm not even used to a woman separating sex and intimacy, so this question has caught me off-guard. Anyway, I like physical intimacy if it's with a woman I'm emotionally intimate with. Otherwise, physical intimacy before or after sex feels like we're trying to make the relationship something that it's not—or something that it's not yet. A lot of cuddling and stuff like that is way more sentimental to me than just intercourse, so if we're not together, I'm not the biggest fan."

Just to round this out a little bit, I decided to ask someone else I know who happens to love sex and loathe physical intimacy. Let's call her "Sheryl".

Sheryl. Married. 39. "I definitely have a higher sex drive than my husband and I absolutely am not a fan of physical intimacy. Meanwhile, he can't get enough of it. It just feels hot, awkward, and like you're invading my personal space. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I grew up in a home that was loving but definitely not big on the PDA. So, I got used to not needing a lot of physical touching. Plus, my husband is the exact opposite, which feels clingy and needy more than anything else. I don't think there's anything 'wrong' with me. I just think I process that a lot of touching comes with sex and outside of that, I'm cool. Who said that everyone needs to get kissed and cuddled all of the time, in order to feel loved, anyway?"

Sheryl has a point. Who did say that physical intimacy must come before and after sex is a cardinal rule? I will say that as someone who is a words-of-affirmation-and-physical-touch-love-languages kind of girl, I can't even imagine the two not going hand in hand, but after speaking with these individuals and also other clients, I get it. You can very much enjoy sex and not need all of the foreplay or afterplay that comes with it for so many people. It doesn't mean that anything is "wrong with you". It's just not your personal preference.

Still, how do you know when your preference might be linked to something deeper or if it has a great potential to become highly problematic in your relationship?

If your avoiding physical intimacy is costing you your relationship. Relationships are about compromise. And you know what? In many ways, so is sexual fulfillment. Even if physical intimacy is not really your thing if it is something that your partner needs or enjoys, find ways to meet him halfway. Again, as a physical touch person myself, to simply clam up after sex feels like rejection. If your partner feels the same way, that can start to build a wedge between the two of you, even if that's not anywhere close to being your intention. By the way, it's also a good idea to bring how you're feeling up to your partner. Even though it might seem a little odd to them, knowing where you're coming from can help him to be more patient as the two of you work to figure out what will work, well, for you both.

If compromising causes you to feel violated. There is a caveat to what I just said. If compromising in this realm makes you somehow feel physically or even emotionally violated, don't push past that. Instead, do some sex journaling or even consider seeing a reputable therapist, counselor, or life coach about what's going on. I know someone who used to hate kissing in the mouth. After seeing a therapist, come to find out, it was because she had been molested by a cousin who used to force their tongue in her mouth when she was little. While it can't be said enough that not preferring physical intimacy "just because" isn't a red flag, if you're someone who clams up or lashes out when someone attempts to be physically affectionate with you, that could be a sign that you're suppressing something. It can never hurt to work with a professional, just to see if that could possibly be the case.

If you "fear" physical intimacy. Not needing a hug vs. being terrified of one are two totally different things. If you fall into the latter category, it very well could be that you are dealing with some level of philophobia which is basically being afraid of emotionally attaching to another individual.

I know we covered a lot of ground here, but as I draw all of this to a close, let's get back to the title of the article. Is there anything wrong with loving sex and hating physical intimacy? In short, no. There's not. Just make sure that feeling this way isn't harming your relationship or that the "hate" isn't tied to something deeper. Other than that, feel OK with being this way. It takes all kinds to make the world go-'round and being different isn't automatically wrong. Enjoy your sex—and well, your dry spot too, sis. #wink

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[swinterr]

fic rec vi ♡

hi!

this is a another new set of fic rec and i’ll probably do a compilation of genre (?) just like the first ones.

made some changes like tidying up a bit and adding summary, for those that doesn’t have any summary i’ll try my best to add my own summary (it will probably be shit tho, i ain’t making a smut summary guys, i’m not confident in my describing a fic ability but i’ll try my best. if its in italic it means i made the summary hehez )  if the summary is shit, i made it okay.

read and support the fic and authors here: the fic rec ♡

a for angst

f for fluff

s for smut

// for series or list

nct 

jeno

no title by @tyongf-nct | s

- smut blurb.

body guards and boyfriend by @pastelsicheng | f

-  sometimes the only way you can really get some alone time with your boyfriend is by making his job hard.

lipstick smears by @kopikokun | f

-  jeno never thought trying to get his makeup artist’s attention would be this hard.

jaehyun

[10:30] by @moonttaeil | 

- a lockdown moment.

[2:40] by @nct-jungjaehyun | f a

- cute quality fluff time with bf!jae with a dash of angst.

[11:41] by @jeongvision | f 

- family time with apples.

just like magic by @starryhyuck | f s

-  jung jaehyun’s body count is almost as high as yours. however, after yuta spreads a nasty rumor, you learn that jaehyun’s always imagined those girls to be you instead.

love to hate me by @moonctzeny | s a 

-  you and jaehyun meet as sm trainees, developing a friendship until he debuts and you decided to leave the company and pursue a solo career. when you reunite again in a music show and he acts like he barely knows you, you stubbornly begin a series of hate-brimmed sex rendez-vous. your touch-and-go relationship continues on, until a song collaboration will force you both to deal with all your repressed feelings for each other.

moving on by @ddeonghwaa | f a

- reader has been chasing jae for some time but when she moved on jae suddenly enter the picture.

sun&moon by @ppangjae | f a

-  asking jeong jaehyun to accompany you to your family’s 1-week christmas vacation as your boyfriend has its consequences. one can surely get through 1 week of pretending to be in love with an enemy, right?

snack run with a snack by @kopikokun | f 

-  on your usual movie night with the members, they assign you sudden snack collecting duty. you’re a little peeved, but at least jaehyun offers to tag along. Unfortunately for you, things really aren’t going in your favour tonight.

lover boy by @neoct-zen | f s

- bunch fics of lover boy jae and reader.

jungwoo

one more time, please by @haequarius | f s

-  you don’t know what you and Jungwoo are, but you are certainly weak for him.

jealous by @whiplashsan | s 

-  jungwoo is all smiles and sunshine until he gets jealous, and he just so happens to get jealous over the smallest things when it comes to you.

doyoung

sugar, spice and everything not nice by @alreadyblondenow | s

-  doyoung getting your ring size wrong, unprotected sex, kitchen sex, slight fingering, wedding tragedies.

no title by @ncteaxhoe | s

- dom!doyoung, rough? i need holy water.

the little one by @ethaeriyeol | f 

-  a gift of life; female reader x husband!Doyoung; fluff, light angst, married au

lucas

exquisite taste by @weishenkonbini | s f

- smut but with a fluffy ending.

for you always by @labyrinthsofyou | f

-  in which you surprise yukhei when he forgets about your date.

6:19 by @cozykpopblurbs | f

- a cute fluff ft kun and winwin.

10:18 pm by @nctsoftarchives | f

- reader supports lucas at his superm debut stage. 

16:47 by @sichengssmile | f s 

- a fluffy smut. lucas a big boi.

missed you by @tokyobts | a f

-  after you and yukhei broke up, yukhei still has feelings for you. he reaches out to you at school and tries to get you back. at first you avoid him but later his actions manage to make your heart flutter. you’ve come to a sudden conclusion that you maybe still want him in your life.

johnny

34 + 35 by @domjaehyun | s 

- you and your husband johnny decide to take your marriage to the next step.

i couldn’t wait a little longer by @alreadyblondenow | s f a

-  you two were never together longer than two days, but the feelings, oh the feelings that you have for each other is clear as the day. it was a never-ending try of making the relationship official. johnny tried, you tried but it never happens.

what happens in korea, not stays in korea by @alreadyblondenow | f s 

-  a week vacation in korea for your sister’s wedding became even more exciting when a famous dj had a crush on you. johnny was sure that it’s love at first sight. not putting both of your careers on the line, you two had no regrets when the time comes and you finally leave.

laundry day by @immabiteyou | s

- a domestic fluffy smut.

make a wish by @sluttyten | s f a

-  you’re jungwoo’s sister, and he’s made it clear he wants you and Johnny to have nothing to do with each other. so you and johnny start fake dating to piss him off.

want it all by @sluttyten | f s 

-  you are entirely innocent to the point of being naive. johnny is not innocent, but he loves that you are because it means he can teach you everything you don’t know.

sungchan

wish i was her by @softsungchan | f a 

-  you wished you were her, laying in Sungchan’s arms and feeling his warm breath on your neck, giggling about sweet nothings whispered into the starry night. You wished for it to be you, the girl he liked.

2:21 am by @the32ndbeat | f 

- sungchan being whipped, thru a text message.

haechan

14:52 by @ukiyoexo | f

- a cute haechan and reader ft the reader’s baby sister moment.

prince’s order by @nsheetee | f

-  prince haechan nurses you after you faint, and orders you to stay with him until you feel better.

sweet treat by @markresonates | s

-  haechan takes you for ice cream but all you can think about is sex with him.  when you act like a brat, eventually you end up in the bathroom. with no panties. 

clingy by @love-mi | f 

-  I’m not clingy! I just love your company and constantly want to be around you and have your full attention at all times

mark

hyuck is always right by @luvrenjun00 | f 

- ceo!mark x reader ft baby donghyuck. a tooth-rotting fluff.

taeyong

snow storm by @whereisten | f s 

- a fluffy smut whilst a snow storm.

1:59 by @smoll-tangerine | f

- reader and taeyong ft my favorite game (where i always die first) among us!

bts

taehyung

is this allowed 1 2 by @seokiie  | f s

- how were you supposed to know bts would be filming at your coffee shop today? how were you supposed to know a certain curly-haired boy would take a liking  to you?

cabin pressure | f by @jiminrings | f 

-  pilot!y/n who accidentally became famous bc of a viral post about her, best friend!jimin!, taehyung having a shy lil crush on you aND ot7 being meanies for a tad bit :((

art major!tae and biochem major!yn | f by @jiminrings | f

-  tae’s cold and probably needs a friend more than he needs a model, y/n feels this nEED to take care of him, a term of enderment then a dash of emotional constipation and a sprinkle of jealousy :D

gank mid lane by @kimtaehyunq | f s 

- gank / verb: (in a video game) use underhand means to defeat or kill (a less experienced opponent)

birthday surprise by @ephemeralkookie |

-  like every year, you prepare a little surprise for your boyfriend’s birthday, one that you’ve been preparing for days. and after a very tiring day, taehyung only wants to spend the night in your loving arms.

jungkook

cookies & cream | s by @1kook | f s 

-  jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (and maybe having his dick sucked.)

unholy night | s by @ephemeralkookie | f s

-  after a christmas day passed with the Jeon’s family, Jungkook decides to transform the holy night into an unholy one.

‘a short’ abstinence | s a by @seokiie | s a

-  maybe blue-balling you boyfriend (who has an insanely high sexual drive) wasn’t the best.

in which she’s done with him by @minstrivia | a

-  jungkook angst/fluff where he always pushes oc away (who confesses her feelings but was cruelly rejected) and insults her but she always comes back to take care of him when he’s drunk or picks him up from his one night stands and she finally decides to leave him alone.

bad influence by @noteguk | s 

-  in which you know jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time.

jock!jk and shy art major!yn by @jiminrings | f

-  established relationship ft. jock!jk and shy art major!y/n, y/n gets an unexpected pep talk and jungkook doubts himself, and either so much tears or so much dUST according to kook

special affair by @1oserjk | f

-  sugar daddy au except it’s just jk spoiling u thru animal crossing

fairy of shampoo by @ironicarmy | f s

-  sundays are for relaxation, house cleaning, and happiness.

abstract ft bob ross by @mimithings97 | f

-  paintbrush in one hand, joint in the other and you sitting on his dick is what jeongguk wants. and what jeongguk wants, jeongguk gets.

badboy!jungkook by @jungshookz | f 

- badboy!jungkook falls for good girl reader ft the boys and the reader’s apple. 

growing by @lesgetittkookie | f

- dad!jungkook teacher his daughter how to walk. super super cute family/domestic fluff.

quiet, baby by @bratkook | s 

- i don’t how to write a summary on smuts so imma just put this. reader and jungkook doing something in the subway.

still want that by @whatifyoulivelikethat | s

-  fucking min yoongi ex-girlfriend? a terrible idea. being hopelessly in love with her at the same time? an even worse idea. knowing he was being used and still doing it anyway? ah, Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing? part 2 of savage love.

desiderium by @jeonggukingdom | f s 

-  “we’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still so horny?”. a newlyweds!au smut.

chapstick by @softyoongiionly | f s

- based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on. or jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. 

lover boy by @jingukk | f 

-  jungkook likes you. a lot.

unexpected confession by @sunkissedjk | f

-  you gathered up the courage to confess your feelings, but it seems everyone in school knows about it before you could even find him.

string attached by @ephemeralkookie | s

-  jungkook is what we can call your sexfriend. No strings attached, just you and him having fun and releasing the huge pressure and stress of being idols. But after spending an entire day together, you realize that maybe he’s not just your sexfriend.

no title by @himbojk | f s 

- dilf jk.

astro

eunwoo

ceo!eunwoo by @m0onbean

no title by @yutopiada | f

- a cute idol!reader and eunwoo moment at a music show.

disney by @bangchan-sonyeondan | f

- a cute date with eunwoo at disney. reader likes vintage things hence using a disposable camera.

baby, it’s cold outside by @fresh-outta-jams | f 

- a cute cold christmas fluff with eunwoo ft. the boys. reader went to the boys’ place for a sweater and cocoa gift exchange.

got7

yugyeom

cruel brothers by @imsarabum | f

-  jackson and jaebum have always acted as if they were your big, overprotective brothers. so when they both walk in on you and yugyeom in a very intimate position, things get a little tense!

txt

soobin

a special night by @gyuluster | f

-  an intimate insight on the first night of choi soobin’s wedding, consisting of kitchen floors, witches and an eternity of love.

boughs & branches by @jeogiyall | f 

-  decorating the tree with boyfriend! choi soobin from txt! fluffity fluff fluff with a lot of cute fluff thrown in and a dash of christmastime fluff. 

sleepy binnie by @immabiteyou | s

-  “i’ll let you do anything if you just touch me now. “ a sleepy soobin smut.

cake by @immabiteyou | s

- reading waiting for mc soobin with the guys. a cute fluffy smut moment.

kpop oc/s

seri by @ggukkiedae

anyway, thank you again for the writers please take care and be safe!

please free to recommend your favorite fic that i haven’t feature yet.

if the links won’t work and i labelled some fics wrong please let me know and i’ll try to fix it as soon as possible!

support the fic and the writers!

[huntertales]

Part Two: Vices And Virtues. (Rock And A Hard Place S09E08)

Episode Summary: Sheriff Jody Mills enlists the help of Y/N and the Winchesters to help investigate multiple kidnappings that belonged to the same chastity group. The three decide to infiltrate the group for themselves. But things go wrong when Y/N and Dean disappear. Sam and Jody must rescue them before it’s too late. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warning: Descriptions of intimacy Word Count: 5,728.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

A/N: I tried something with this part...don’t know if it’s gonna come out good or totally suck. Obviously you guys know what you’re getting yourself into with the context of this episode. I really didn’t know how to add proper warning that would make sense, so bare with me. Obviously read at your own discretion. I hope you guys enjoy! 

You'd do just about anything for a hunt if it meant an innocent life could be saved from disaster, or worse, death. YAnd you did your fair share of stupid things over the years. Sitting here in an abstinence support group after regaining your virginity was on the top of the list. You sat on one of the fold-out wooden chairs and patiently waited for your first and only meeting of "Abstinence Purifies Us" to begin. It seemed the group was going to be much larger than you realized it was going to be when you saw a crowd of women come into the room designated for things such as this. What you noticed right away when everyone formed a circle to start the meeting was that there was not a single man in sight besides the brothers.

While you continued waiting, you went on thinking about how regaining your virginity at your age would be slightly strange as well, presuming almost all of the group in the group were going to be those who were high school aged to some in their twenties. You were a bit surprised to see a few who appeared to be possibly other than you. Perhaps they were like you, born-again virgins like you who wanted a fresh start in life. You folded your hands in your lap and patiently waited for everyone to join and get started.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m Suzy.” The woman sitting at the head of the circle spoke up and introduced herself after spotting a few new faces in the group. “I’d thought we’d begin with a silent prayer for our missing friends.”

You and Sam closed your eyes and lowered your head out of respect for everyone else when they did the same. Dean didn't see much of the point, seeming to be lost in his own personal thoughts when he stared at Suzy to follow her directions. You opened your eyes to check up on Dean, only to see he was being stubborn as usual. You cleared your throat and shot him a warning glare to play along. He quickly did as everyone else, knowing it was better to go along with the part without causing too much suspension. You rolled your eyes before shutting them again for a few more seconds before Suzy concluded the prayer.

“Now,” Suzy finally moved on to the actual beginning of the meeting after getting the formalities out of the way. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to share?”

"I wrote a new piece of verse." A young woman eagerly raised her hand, deciding to go before anyone else could try. She picked up a pink piece of paper and stood up from her seat. "It's called 'Sex is a racket, and God's ball is in your tennis court."

You were expecting to hear all sorts of different things during this meeting, but that one not one of them. You had to cover your hand with your mouth to keep the smile that crossed your face from showing how ridiculous the work sounded. You quickly composed yourself when you caught the disapproving shake of the head from Sam. You wanted to hear what was written, but it seemed Suzy declined the offer, not wanting to hear it today. It seemed she was trying to save the new members from not coming back next time for a bad first experience.

“And we would love to hear that, Tammy—later.” Suzy politely shot down the woman from letting her read to the group. You swore a few people seemed relieved at not being forced to listen to another one of the woman’s works. Tammy's smile slowly fell from her lips at being shot down from her writing she spent working so hard on. She sank down to her seat as Suzy directed her attention to you and the boys. “Why don’t we hear from our new friends? Sam, what brought you here to reclaim your virginity?”

You looked over at the younger Winchester to hear his response. He suddenly appeared to be a deer in headlights  when everyone's eyes landed on him, curious to see what his answer was going to be. He wasn't sure what to say, in all honesty, he decided to go with the truth. "Well, I guess because every woman I've ever had relations with, uh...it...hasn't ended well."

“He’s not lying.” You mumbled to yourself, knowing from personal experience. It seemed your comment didn’t go unnoticed from the man himself. You turned your head to see his infamous bitch face flash in your direction. “What? Sorry, Sammy, but it’s the truth.”

“Thank you for sharing, Sam. Stay strong. Stay pure.” Suzy said. The motto was chanted by everyone else in the group before the next person was up to share. And from the way it seemed to be, you were up next. “What about you, Y/N? What set you on the path away from sin?”

"Well, I guess I've been doing a lot of soul searching lately. I feel at this point in my life I need a fresh start. I haven't liked the way it's turned out since I lost my virginity." You began with your reason why you were here, thinking quick on your feet for a reasonable answer. Sometimes honesty was the best policy. So you went from there. "Funny enough, I gave it up pretty late in life. I was actually a virgin up until I was twenty-seven. Sex wasn't important to me. I was focused on other things. And if I'm being honest...I was scared to give it up to anyone else. It's such an intimate thing for someone to do. Sure, some might think sex is fun, and while they—"

You wanted to say that someone had the right to have sex with whoever they wanted, a natural reaction when it came to your way of thinking. You managed to bite your tongue in time before you could say it, remembering the crowd you were speaking to. "Basically, I wasn't in a rush to lose it. But I knew who I secretly wanted to be my first." 

You turned your head to look over at Dean, a smile creeping across your lips at the honesty even he didn't know about. "It was a spur of the moment kind of thing. We just said our first 'I love yous' to each other and somehow one thing led to another…and we made love in the backseat of his old Chevy.  It was out in the middle of an empty field at night, just the two of us with the radio playing in the background. All of it felt perfect, if I’m being honest.”

You swore you saw a few ladies drift off into personal thought of what it might have been like. A sort of dreamy expression when they saw Dean. He looked like the kind of guy who could charm the pants off anyone. While they were saving themselves for marriage, you saw the wandering eyes, the hidden lust even they couldn't ignore. A little bit of satisfaction came over you knowing he was all yours to keep.

“I realized a lot of bad things feel good in the moment. I had to learn the hard way temptations like mine come with consequences." You went on. "I discovered mine the morning after I gave up my virginity. It turned out Dean was doing something behind my back, something that broke my heart."

"He cheated on you?" Bonnie felt the need to cut in, her pretend sympathetic expression was hidden behind a told-you-so kind of tone.

"Sure. He...cheated on me." You went on with the lie, knowing the truth would sound bonkers to these kinds of people. "Anyway, what trust I thought I had in him disappeared. Lying to me about something like that hurt me. I guess it was God's way of punishing me. But I didn't listen. I ended up doing some other things I regretted."

"This is a safe space, Y/N." Suzy reassured you after falling silent, wanting to act as if you were still guilt ridden to this very day. "Anything you admit today will not be faced with judgement. We're here to help one another. Confession can be a great way to start over." 

"During our breakup, we decided to go our separate ways for a while. Dean dated a nice woman while I stayed single. However, while I tried to be good, I lost myself again to the temptation of sin. One day when I was feeling my lowest and drinking way too much. Sam and I..." The ladies all collectively raised their brows, curious and hanging off your every word about what you were going to say. You let out a sigh, pretending as if you had been holding your breath. "We had sex. I mean, it wasn't like what Dean and I had. It was mindless, rough sex. Our souls weren't in it. Sex always seems like a good idea because it feels good. That is, until you come down from the high and realize what did." 

"And you never did it again?" Bonnie asked you, her little too wide-eyed stare pointed in your direction from what you admitted.

"Oh, no. We hooked up on and off for a year behind Dean's back. And we denied it every time he asked us." You said, adding fuel to the discomfort slowly growing across Bonnie's face the more she heard. "But it made me realize how much I loved my boyfriend. Whenever I slept with someone else, it didn't feel right. And I'm sure he would say the same thing with every chick he brought back from the bars before we started dating. If anything, his biggest sin would be the slew of sloppy one night stands." You turned your head and gave the older Winchester a bright smile as you reached out to grab his hand and embraced with your own. "Right, honey?"

"Thank you for that...interesting share, Y/N." Suzy said. From the looks of it, she was still trying to wrap her head around the details you painted for her and the group. Everyone chanted their slogan to you before moving on to the next person up to share. "And what about you, Dean?"

"Like my loving girlfriend has told you, I have a history of one-night stands. I wasn't a prude. To me, Sex has always felt—I don't know—good, you know? Relationships weren’t for me. It was always too...complicated. It was better to hit it and quit it.” Dean chuckled at the joke that sounded funny to him, but landed on deaf ears. His smile slowly faded as he got more serious to match the tone of the room. “That was until I met Y/N. If there’s one thing I learned while we’ve been together, it’s the thrill of getting to know the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. And I guess like your virginity, you want to give it to someone special. You want to give all of yourself away to this person. For a long time I thought that wasn't for me. Sex has always been about the pleasure. It was fun. You know?”

Dean was trying his best to work with the crowd to try and get them to understand where he was coming from here. But it seemed he lost them again. Nevertheless, he went on with his confession. "But, uh...sometimes all those hookups make you feel bad, you know? You're drunk. You shack up. Then, it's the whole morning thing. You know, 'Hey, that was fun.' And then, 'adios,' you know? Always the 'adios.'

"I got tired of that. I hated filling the void in my heart with something temporary. I guess life kicked me in the pants at some point and made me realize what I really wanted. I wanted Y/N. And I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. And, yeah, we kind of did things backwards...had a few bumps in the road. But isn't that what life is all about?” A few women nodded their head in agreement while the others verbally answered. "If anything, being in a long committed relationship made me appreciate how sex can be something meaningful." 

You had to admit, Dean had you in the first half of what he was saying. He sounded genuine with his words, as if he was putting his heart into this and playing up the role to make a good impression. Until it veered in the direction you should've feared. "Like I said, sex has always been fun. I'm not denying that. And it's even better with a life-long partner. You get to explore their body in an intimate way no one else will ever be able to do. Know what makes them go crazy . Isn’t that what it comes down to, right? 

"There's the touching and the feeling all of each other, knowing exactly where to go that gets them all excited. There’s no fumbling around. You just get straight to the point.” Dean was officially having too much fun at this point when he realized almost everyone was hooked in his words, yourself included. He dropped his voice so it was lower, almost sensual. “My favorite part is being able to trace every inch of her body, touching the places that only I get to see. In the moment it’s just the two of us moving together, pressing and pulling...grinding." 

Dean was and always will be a flirt, it was in his personality. A special skill set of his that you admired even before got together with him. Sometimes all it took was a pretty smile for you to feel swooned. While he might annoy you with that mouth of his most of the time, he also could get you in the mood. And it seemed you weren’t the only one starting to awkwardly shift in your seat from the way he was going on. You scratched the back of your ear as you tried to keep yourself focused and not lulled into a fantasy while he went on. 

“You forget about everything and everyone around you when you hit that perfect spot. All you can think about is reaching the end. And slowly, everything just builds and builds and builds until it all just..." Dean made an explosive noise to sneakily hint at what he was saying, trying to keep it family friendly. Tammy found herself lost in the moment, crushing the paper with her written verse, as if she was trying to calm herself down. 

Dean was and always will be a flirt, it was in his personality. A special skill set of his that you admired even before got together with him. Sometimes all it took was a pretty smile for you to feel swooned. While he might annoy you with that mouth of his most of the time, he also could get you in the mood. And it seemed you weren’t the only one starting to awkwardly shift in your seat from the way he was going on. You scratched the back of your ear as you tried to keep yourself focused and not lulled into a fantasy while he went on. 

“You forget about everything and everyone around you when you hit that perfect spot. All you can think about is reaching the end. And slowly, everything just builds and builds and builds until it all just..." Dean made an explosive noise to sneakily hint at what he was saying, trying to keep it family friendly. Tammy found herself lost in the moment, crushing the paper with her written verse, as if she was trying to calm herself down. 

Sam was starting to hate his brother at the moment. The room shifted to an awkward tone after hearing what kind of filth Dean thought would be appropriate enough to speak about. Simple talk that got even the prudent of virgins fidgeting in their seats. You weren’t saved from his ever present glare when you happened to feel his lingering stare upon you. You guessed it was for the confession you made yourself, and not stopping Dean when you should’ve. You innocently shrugged your shoulders and looked on, never admitting to the fact you were lost in the moment like every other woman here. Sam’s expression changed into his infamous bitchface to his brother, appearing again in the span of a few minutes.

“But the whole thing was just a little too, uh...sticky. And complicated. So, uh, I got my ‘V’ card back so I can do things right.” Dean topped off his confession with a smile and a slap to his knee. “The end.”

After Dean’s explicit confession, the meeting continued on like normal without anything titillating details from the other members. You half-listened to everyone else as they took the opportunity to confess themselves of what almost tempted them this week along with a couple of Bible verses being read aloud to help strengthen the bond to their abstinence before wrapping up things. You helped clean up the chairs and tidy up things, deciding it was the least you could do after your share. 

Luckily the meeting continued on like normal without anything else more...exciting from the other members. You half listened to everyone take the opportunity to confess this week what tempted them and a couple of Bible verses before wrapping up. You helped clean up the chairs and tidy things up, deciding to be a little bit respectful after the share you had. To be honest, you said all of those things out of fun, knowing your sexual history was a tad bit odd compared to most. 

You made your way back over to the boys after all of you did your share to help clean up the place, letting everyone else mingle among one another. Sam didn’t waste a second after getting you and Dean to enough of a deserted spot to share his discomfort felt during the entire meeting because of the both of you. You broke out into a smile even before he could get the words out. 

“So, wee bit of an over share, guys?” Sam sarcastically asked you, still squirming around at the details forever burned in his mind. You let out a chuckle in amusement. “It’s not funny, Y/N.”

“Kind of is, Sammy.” You teased him. 

“I was purifying.” Dean said, going to his defense about the reason why he went so graphic. He found himself losing track of focus when he spotted the consular, Suzy, talking to one of the members. “Hey, she look familiar to you? Swear I know her from somewhere.”

“Pack it up, Casanova. That stupid line might work, but you’re not single anymore.” You reminded him. 

“Oh, sweetheart, there’s no one in this world I want to give up my virginity to again besides you.” Dean laid it on thick with the flirtation when you took his words the wrong way. You rolled your eyes. “Seriously. It’s bugging me. Come on, let’s go find out.”

You felt a tap on your shoulder, delaying you from responding to Dean’s request. You looked over to see it was Bonnie standing there with a too wide of a smile. “I’ll catch up in a second, hun. The girls need to talk.” You joked with Dean, nodding your head to Bonnie. He escaped before he could find out what she wanted to talk to you about. You returned the smile when you glanced back over to her. “Hey.”

“So?” She asked you, curious for you to answer something you had no idea what for. You raised your brows and continued to smile, wondering what the hell she was baiting. “How did you like the meeting? That was quite a share.”

“I loved it. I know, but I feel so comfortable around you guys. This is the first time I’ve ever come clean about this stuff to someone else.” You said. You decided to play along for the hell of it, laying on the act extra thick as you went on. “You know, I couldn't help but think of those who weren't here.”

“Oh. Honor. She's my favorite.” Bonnie said, sadly smiling at the mention of the missing member. Before she could continue this riveting conversation, Bonnie found her attention lingering over to the snack table where she saw one of the women sneaking an extra snack for later. “Would you excuse me?”

“Of course.” You said, stepping out of the way to Bonnie could tend to whatever needed her attention. You thought you might be able to finally sneak away and join Dean, who seemed to be in conversation with Suzy. However you were stopped again by another member. She seemed angry for some reason. “Oh. Hi, there.”

“Her favorite?” She ignored your friendly greeting, too worked up at what she overheard Bonnie say. “She has no idea what kind of girl Honor is.” 

“You don't say. Uh, Tammy, right? The poet?” You asked, remembering her name from the horrible poem verse you were able to avoid. She nodded her head. You looked around to see where Sam was, hoping you might be able to sneak away, only it seemed he had your luck when he was cornered by Bonnie after she squashed whatever pulled her away. You withheld the urge to sigh and turned your attention back to her. “Tammy, why don't don't you tell me what kind of girl Honor is?”

That was the wrong thing to ask. She went on a rampage of what kind of person Honor was. You tried your hardest to sound interested as you nodded your head every once in a while, trying to be polite. This wasn’t the kind of stuff you cared for. Or would help the case. “And I bake real cookies for the bake sale. Honor just brings Oreos!” She went on, making you pretend to be shocked. “I mean, she’s not as innocent as everyone thinks she is.” 

“What do you mean by that?” You asked her, your tone shifting into a more serious one.

“All I’m saying is that she’s going to hell.” Tammy said. “And you would be too if you didn’t confess those things and come here to repurify yourself. I bet you feel so much better.”

“For sure. I mean, I already been to hell twice. Not fun.” You said. You let out a breath of relief when Dean waved his arm up in the air, catching your attention. His face scrunching up in confusion as to why you were still talking to Tammy. “Could you excuse me? My boyfriend needs me.”

“Is that supposed to be like some kind of metaphor…?” Tammy’s expression dropped at hearing what you just said, making her confused. “Oh! Nice talking to you!” 

You politely smiled before turning around and finally headed over to Dean and Suzy, wondering what kind of trouble he was getting himself into during your short time away. You doubt he made a good impression on the woman. But it seemed she wasn’t as quick to judge one from the way she was casually speaking to him, no spouts of words about the damnation he was going to face after death. She seemed the most approachable out of anyone here. Maybe that’s why she was in charge of running the group here. You politely squeezed yourself into the conversation when Suzy spotted you lingering before she smiled, welcoming you right in.

“I hope he’s not bothering you too much.” You playfully joked with the woman. “Dean tends to get a bit excited about these kinds of things. If there’s anything he loves more than me it’s God.” 

“Suzy and I were just talking. I swear I’ve seen her face before. I just can’t put my finger on it.” Dean said. “But we were also discussing the fact that she does private counseling.”

“Really? So everyone in the group dishes to you?” You asked curiously.

“They confide. Abstinence is really rough without support and education. It’s a wonderful thing the both of you decided to go on this journey together.” Suzy said, smiling in a kind of way that was admirable for the clear love you and Dean had for each other. And yet you could see there was almost a sadness behind it, almost envious. “Hey, you know what? I have some great books on the vow that really helped me. I live close. I'll just go grab them.”

“No, that’s okay—“ Dean tried to protest the idea of making Suzy go through all the trouble, wanting more to get back to the motel. You quickly cut him off, making his grip around your waist tighten ever so much. 

“With a kidnapper on the loose? We can go with you.” You suggested. Out of anyone, Suzy seemed like a sweet woman who wasn’t going to bombard you with guilt over your past behavior. Maybe if you got her alone she might be able to tell you something about Honor and the other missing couple. “Let Dean and I walk you home.”

“No, I'll be fine.” Suzy reassured you. 

“Please. It’s the least we could do. Just to be safe.” You told her. When you saw the woman let out a breath, almost as if she was a bit relieved, you smiled. “Just let us pop over to Sam and we’ll be right back.”

Dean dropped his friendly face when he stepped away from Suzy after unwillingly being dragged around town when he wanted nothing more than to go back to the motel with you. You decided to put your efforts on something more important when you had the opportunity than jump into bed the first chance you got. You lost your virginity late in life, you could wait a little while to lose it again. You made your way over to Sam after he wrapped up a conversation with Tammy after he was cornered by the young woman. It seemed she had the same effect on the man from the expression that lingered on his face after she left. 

“Hey, we’re gonna walk Suzy home. See if she might know anything else about the vics.” You told the younger man. “Can you stick around here and possibly talk to the rest of the group? See if you might be able to get anything else out?”

“Yeah, sure.” Sam didn’t seem to buy what you were saying, presuming it was a cheap cover to get out of here and back to the motel. “You know, I’m actually trying to work here. I don’t think it’s fair you two are trying to sneak off.”

“Come on, look. You know if Dean was single he’d be all over Suzy trying to do more than just bring her home.” You said. Sam shrugged at the thought, nodding in agreement. “We’re focused as much as you are on the case. No one’s jumping into bed just yet. We're gonna take Suzy home and see if she might know anything else about the people who went missing." 

Sam agreed with the plan from how it sounded coming from you. He waited a few seconds before he nodded his head, letting you and his brother head out with Suzy back to her apartment. Right as Sam turned around to see who else he might be able to speak to, he jumped slightly in surprise at seeing Tammy standing there, a little too wide of a smile on her face when she caught him alone. He managed to hide the sigh that wanted to come out behind a forced smile. He hoped all of this was going to be worth it in the end. 

+ + +

The walk to Suzy’s apartment wasn’t too far from the church like she said, the time it took to get there was filled with mindless chatter about what she thought of the town and church. She had nothing but positive things to say since moving here a few months ago herself. You continued on with the fake lie about yourself to keep the conversation going, telling her how you and Dean were planning on getting hitched and how this town was a fresh start for you and the boys. The three of you were a close family after your parents passed away, the only part of your story that was true.

Right away she got to work finding those books she mentioned back at the church. You decided to shrug off your jacket, not sure how long you were going to be here, and decided to look around yourself at how she decorated her place. Suzy mentioned there were quite a few books around here specifically for couples. Your offer to help when asked was granted when she mentioned there were some in a cabinet you were standing next to. You opened up the small door and crouched down to see what she had here. You skimmed her vast collection of books out of partial curiosity to see what an abstinence consular enjoyed to read. When you found what you needed, you cradled them in your arms and got back up, only to discover you felt a strange lingering stare on you. You turned around and spotted Dean’s eyes where they shouldn’t be. 

You shot him a warning glare to behave before Suzy caught you. Dean’s smirk when he was caught by you was wiped off his face when you a little too roughly plopped the books down to his hands, Suzy followed suit a few moments later with several more of her own. He muffed a grunt from the several self help books he was forced to carry. You smiled in appreciation and slapped the pile with a little too much force, making him almost lose balance on the books. He struggled to catch them before they could tumble to the ground. 

“Thanks, honey.” You cooed. “You’re so strong.”

“Okay. So,” Suzy seemed content at the eight books Dean was currently holding, hoping it would be enough reading material to get started with. “why don't you guys breeze through these, and I'm gonna head to the little girls' room.”

Suzy excused herself before disappearing to another part of her apartment, leaving you and Dean alone in her living room. Dean wasted no time ditching the books somewhere else as you casually looked around the place, all though you weren't sure yet of what you were looking for. It appeared to be like any other bachelorette home. You wandered around the place, glancing over at framed pictures of her life and examining little knick-knacks decorated around the place. Right as you were about to pick up a snowglobe, your cell phone started ringing, distracting you from your search. You looked at the screen to see that it was Sam, probably to check up on you and Dean. You went to answer the call when you spotted a half-open drawer that caught your attention. You let it ring a few more times before you finally answered it, all while opening the drawer just enough to see what was inside, wondering if it was some sort of junk drawer. Only it was much more. 

You pulled out a few DVDs that weren't blockbuster movies from the cover. More dirty films from the familiar titles you heard of. You let out a quiet chuckle from the discovery you made. Apparently Miss Abstinence was a former adult star. That's why Dean knew who she was. She had a pretty active role in Casa Erotica, her movie was so good you knew the man kept a downloaded file on his computer. A secret porn stash he thought you knew nothing about. You quickly tucked them back away when an idea popped into your head. 

You almost forgot about the call with Sam when you heard his voice from the other line call out your name in a slightly annoyed tone from your delayed response. You closed the drawer with your hip and turned around in your spot so you could casually lean against the dresser. Dean tossed you a confused look from the way you were acting as you finally answered his brother's insensent attempts of getting your attention before he could think the worse. 

You half-listened to what he was saying about the case, something about how this wasn't the work of a dragon, but all you could focus on was the sound of Suzy opening up the bathroom door. You told Sam you'd call him back before ending the call. As Suzy stepped back into the living room, you realized the promise you made to Sam was about to be broken. It could've waited until after the hunt was over, but you figured you waited around long enough for your first time.

“I gotta go.” You said, making sure your tone of voice sounded disappointed at how you were skipping out so soon on her. Suzy seemed worried from the way you were acting from the short time she was away. “Oh, it’s nothing. Sam’s just having a bit of trouble. You know men. Always something.” 

“Are you sure? It sounds serious.” Dean tried to get himself out of here before he could be pulled into the virtues of why keeping his virginity until marriage was for him. “Maybe we both should make sure he’s all right.” 

“That’s okay, honey. He just needs me to pop by the store and pick up some stuff.” You said. The look on Dean’s face was easy to tell he wasn’t buying your lie, despite how it was going to be all for him. He’d find out soon enough. “Thank you for everything, Suzy. I’ll see you at the next meeting.” 

Suzy seemed a bit upset at seeing you go so soon before she could properly go through some helpful techniques that you probably could've used. Dean tossed you daggers from leaving him here to spend God knows how long entertaining the consular. You gave him an adoring smile and waved goodbye to your boyfriend, figuring he would be thanking you for leaving him here after the surprise you had planned for him after he got back to the motel. 

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink  // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner  // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha //   @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink //  @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans //  @icantfindacreativeurl //  @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings // @dream-believe-and-love // @that-winged-rat // @romanovanoffsstuff // @underthestarrsss // @lady-elena-adeline // @akshi8278

Message me if you would like to be added!

[terrainofheartfelt]

I think it's pretty amazing how much the gossip girl Fandom has changed. From my experience, most of my friends admit they didn't know what they were thinking with Chair when GG was on TV. And now you see this women empowerment movement. It's nice to know I've always been right about supporting DAIR. If only you saw the Fandom when GG was popular lol.

Oh, well for starters, let’s all be glad I wasn’t in the GG fandom while the original show was airing for a lot of reasons. Back then, I was a teenager DEEP into the twilight saga. My myspace page was all about my devotion to Team Edward. I was insufferable, my parents and brother are not on tumblr (thank whatever gods exist) but shoutout to them for loving me & putting up with me at my Peak Fangirl.

But to your point on how the fandom has changed, to put it extremely simply: I think it’s because we’re ten years older now. Most of my beloved gg mutuals are in their 20s like me, and while I can only speak for myself, the distance of my beliefs between when I was a teenager and the person I am now is VAST. My ideas of self, of feminism, of love, of sex, they’ve all evolved drastically over time.

Oh god especially my ideas of sex. My sex ed in high school wasn’t even in school, it was received via my church youth group [horrifying]. Now we don’t have time to unpack ALL of that, but I remember the exercise we did for the idea “just remember you’re having sex with everyone they’ve ever had sex with” (which, sidebar, I’ve always thought is a stupid ass phrase. That’s just not accurate, but I’m getting off topic) and it wasn’t that we were taught abstinence-only, but more like, “now don’t you want to keep this number as low as possible?”

So, between twilight and my religious upbringing, I’ve internalized this idea of “the first person you have sex with should also be the last person you have sex with,” and I think I’m still grappling with undoing that idea in my brain. BUT. bringing this back to GG: this idea permeates a lot of teen soaps in the 2000s, and the romantic fatalism that goes along with that.

I’ve been watching The OC for the first time, and it’s been interesting bc it’s the show the GG showrunners did before GG, so I can kind of see the blueprint for the ideas and characterizations that were really...amped up in Gossip Girl? Like OC is a dramatic-ass show, but it feels more gritty and grounded than Gossip Girl, in which everything feels heightened and elevated and...distanced, I guess? And these two shows are really actually period pieces, they are such snapshots & products of the area in which they were created -- which, carried those views of love and sex as a throughline throughout the course of their shows. (i.e., dan & blair both end up with their respective firsts, bc it’s Destiny. Or something like that).

So, when I first watched the show (I was a freshman in college, the show had just come up on netflix streaming - I still thought I was straight, I was still Christian, I still had yet to take a gender studies course), well - for starters, I was so into the derena endgame, and chair...I wasn’t too invested, but like, it’s not like I wasn’t positive towards it. And I think a lot of that was due to these 00’s media ideas of, what’s the right word...sexual fidelity? And the belief that everyone has One Person, and if they’re ever not with that One Person then those other relationships are fake and false. And derena and chair in the show both followed and affirmed that kind of viewpoint by ending up together.

I should say here that I am not equivocating the relationship dynamics of these separate ships, I’m lumping them together to make a point, but derena =/= chair in my interpretation of the show and of the characters.

Now, I am older and hopefully a little bit wiser, and I believe that romantic love isn’t necessarily destined, but it’s something that’s built, that grows, and a person’s sexual history is not a reflection of their goodness, and that love can change and evolve and it doesn’t have to be romantic or stay romantic to be meaningful. So, when I rewatched the show in my mid-20s, dair was the ship that resonated with me the most. And it still does, which is why I’m here, writin’ fic, and answerin’ tumblr asks from you lovely people.

Also on my rewatch, I read that dan & serena grew out of each other, which is sad, but it happens, and that’s okay. And with chair, all those red flags that 00’s teen soaps gloss over (because they do them for nothing but the Drama, the lasting implications don’t matter, it’s about taking the stakes of the moment as high as possible) I really saw them, and they alarmed me in a way that didn’t alarm over-romanticizing 18-year-old me. That being said, I’m very happy in my little corner of the fandom sandbox, and I’m not looking to argue the virtues of some ships over others or change hearts and minds. I just want to write my silly little stories and maybe have my friends read them :)

I think it’s also important to mention that since GG stopped airing we’ve entered a new wave of feminism, and the MeToo movement arose, and as people of my generation have grown up, we are engaging with the media we grew up in with our evolved/evolving viewpoints, and I think that’s why there appears to be such a change within the fandom. Plus, in the grand vast scheme of history, sex positivity and gender empowerment are SUCH recent things, and in the past ten years, they’ve progressed lightning-fast. Like, remember when I said I began college and I still thought I was straight? Gay marriage was not legal where I was from then. Like, I remember the day Obergefell v. Hodges was decided, and that win was not a guaranteed one. (I was actually studying abroad in Rome at the time, so we American students were running through Italy being like “gay marriage!!!” while the Italians just watched us like “????????”)

You say you’ve always been a dair shipper, and that’s great for you! But I wasn’t. And for me, I am constantly learning and unlearning and relearning, and media (even off the rails CW teen dramas like Gossip Girl) is one of my ways of doing so. Though I will put on my Old Lady Librarian Liz hat for a second and say: if you’re still in school/university, and have the opportunity to take a gender studies course (outside the realm of the internet, bc tumblr is not the be all end all of education), I highly recommend it. I’m still no expert, and I can’t throw any verbatim Judith Butler at you, but engaging with those ideas and the history of gender studies academically gave me a framework for thinking critically that I’ve taken with me. And nothing teaches you humility like wading through Butler jargon.

Thank you so much for this ask, this really got me to think and reminisce and I enjoyed it!

[darkdevasofdestruction]

The Idiot ~ Fyodor Dostoevsky

In which the reader is the last Russian princess from our contemporary times and Fyodor is there to watch, observe, analyse and write a novel while being the reader’s sort of guardian/mentor, all while reader finds herself in an impossible, almost-Anna Karenina-like situation that drives her to desperate decisions.

And yes, I’m very much basing this story Dostoevsky’s “The Idiot” novel, Tolstyi’s “Anna Karenina” and Katyusha, both the Russian song, and the “Resurrection” novel from Tolstoy that has Katyusha as an unfortunate, yet important character.

Also, a little nod to our dear Ana Lesko for her song “Anicyka Maya”, which will serve as a cute little nickname for our dear reader, although the song is Romanian, and it’s about a seductive woman. 

Other nicknames will include: Kiska ( kitten ), Zaika ( bunny ), Kroshka ( little one ), Krasotka ( gorgeous ).

I’m not Russian, I don’t know about Russia’s culture, history and language as much as I know about my own, obviously, but as ex-commie & ex-USSR, we still have a shit ton of similarities. Nevertheless, I will try not to get into too many details that will compromise authenticity.

Luxury, glamour, wealth, gold, jewellery, diamonds, class, facades, masks, masquerades, social gatherings, lies, marriages, politics, horses, deals, gambling... These represent some of the few words people from everywhere around would describe the royal family.

Why do some still exist, anyway? Shouldn’t they have just completely disappeared at the same time with the Romanov family? ...Stupid cartoon movies and their resurrection of Anastasia...

Nobody truly cares about these rich rats who worked naught for their wealth, and would never understand the struggle and poverty of the normal citizens of Russia...They just live in their abnormally huge palace, having more servants than the population of Moscow and eat at one meal more than normal people do in one week altogether.

How utterly ridiculous.

Their lives are all perfect, they marry themselves to keep that ridiculous purity and their infinite wealth in the family...How atrocious!  What about charity? Kindness? Altruism? Helping out the common folk?

All these thoughts, and you’d think a very bitter and vindictive, very poor and malicious person came up with, and yet, the reality was rather distorted. 

From the top stair of the palace, in a dark room, sitting on the windowpane, a gorgeous young woman cast her dull eyes over the snowy city and the people hurrying down the roads, hoping to go home before it got too late and cold.

Maybe they were poor and hateful, and rightfully so, she’d say, but perhaps they can also be deemed happier, if they can take into account their freedom...As much as the government provides them, at least - Yet even so, even the poorest person held more freedom than this caged bird, forever trapped and shackled by fate from the second she was born...As if she had any choice, that is.

Perhaps she deserves this treatment, this hatred, this...Manipulation from her own family, who only see her as a political and financial pawn, planning her marriage from the second she first cried into this world... Like a martyr, she will accept all torture and live on, never knowing what ‘living’ truly means, only imagining it by reading all day and all night long, or when she plays the piano one of the many songs she learnt.

As the grandfather clock rang to 7 times to announce dinner time, Y/N dressed in a simple, yet elegant dress, put on a pair of classy black stiletto shoes, and went down to the luxurious dining room, sitting in her usual seat, only for a brunet stranger dressed in white to grace the sight with his unexpected presence.

She didn’t dare speak to him, yet her eyes couldn’t leave his form, no matter how her meek demeanour made her hung her head to avoid showing anything other than her demure expression.

Thankfully, her parents arrived, along with the waiters that served the food, so it saved some of the awkwardness of the unknown.

“Y/N, darling, this man here is Fyodor Dostoevsky. He is here as a writer, wanting to learn more about us and about people in general. As a compromise, he agreed to be your personal guard...Considering the other one was a sacrilege to our dear daughter...What a lecherous man, making advances on you...But, anyway, let us toast to the success of this young man’s writing career!” the mother raised her champagne, and the four of them clinked glasses. “I thank you for the unique opportunity to learn and understand society and people better. May you live a long and prosperous life.” this new stranger held a charming smile on his face, trying to impress and buy everyone’s trust. “Do you have yet any idea about the theme of your novel? Or, perhaps an idea for a title?” the father asked, making the brunet shake his head softly. “No, not yet, unfortunately. I prefer to study hard, and only then, when I am educated enough, to allow the flow of creation to take over me.” this Fyodor nodded in acknowledgement, while the girl kept completely silent for the duration of the dinner, waiting for everything to be over so she could escape back to the little faux haven she created and called ‘safe’. “Y/N, show Mr. Fyodor to your room, he will be sleeping there for now on. The butlers already brought a spare bed there, so it’s alright.” the mother waved her hand dismissively, and the girl could only bow quickly and go back to her room, making sure to point out what each of the rooms represent, before reluctantly inviting him to her bedroom. “Please, make yourself at home, Mr. Dostoevsky. I hope it will be comfortable and to your liking. Should you need anything, please do not hesitate to tell me so we can make your stay as great as possible.” she spoke to him in a soft, meek voice, not daring to make eye contact in any way. “Call me Fyodor, no need for formalities. We are going to room together, might as well become friendly. What don’t you tell me about yourself? Your hobbies, your interests, your dreams, your aspirations.” the brunet paced around the room, observing all of her personal objects, which, turned out, except for jewellery, books, a small, pink Gloxinia, and a pickup with 1920s British vinyls, there was nothing to represent her...Which was, in its own way, an intriguing peculiarity. “I...Like reading, flowers, music...And I wish I could get a dog and learn how to play the violin too. There aren’t many interesting things about me...I’m not special or anything out of the ordinary. I am not allowed to put myself out there in any way, so this is the little I could do to express who I am.” so tried to be as vague as possible, fidgeting on her feet uncomfortably, knowing that the punishment for embarrassing the family would be grave, should it be known. “Hmmm...I see, I see...Ah, you’re a Tolstoy reader, I see. Anna Karenina...Very interesting, yet tragic, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, picking up a book that was supposed to be hidden. “N-No! Don’t take that out of there...Nobody can know I have it. I was strictly forbidden from reading it...Please don’t tell anyone I have this book.” the princess snatched the book from his hands, hiding it further back in the bookshelf. “Ohh~? Why would you not be allowed to read a Russian book? You’d think the Russian princess would be urged to read Russian literature.” he stepped in front of her, picking her chin and raising her head slightly to allow him to look deep into her fawn-like eyes. “Because of the ending...And the controversial decisions Anna made, some of them even contradictory to her own beliefs, and yet, she made her own decisions, at some point in her life. When your fate is decided from before you are born, having opinions is the worst enemy of a puppeteer...Wouldn’t you agree?” she muttered, walking away from him, taking her nightgown and walking towards her bathroom.

This made the man think more about how dysfunctional this supposed perfect royal family actually was. The illusion of a flawless individual, living together, forming a flawless family, a flawless life, in a flawless palace. 

Perhaps facades aren’t as obvious to see through, or understand, for while the parents are completely bland...This girl...So much potential locked away in a timid chest of massive oak wood, embellished with overly expensive jewellery, clearly unwanted. She could be a genius, shining in her happiness, glowing like her dazzling smile, and yet, there she is, eclipsed by chaff, when she could be burning brighter than the morning Sun.

Those parents of hers think he wants to be here and get dazzled by the infinite stream of diamonds that keep flowing around the whole place - And yet, perhaps they are the ones living in mental poverty, considering they believe financial wealth and fame is the sole reason for being alive - To uphold a certain kind of status that they worked naught for, but received hereditary, from one lazy deadbeat to yet another generation of useless people for this society.

They truly are like the plague, incredibly rare nowadays, but completely fatal once you fall grasp to their dark claws that drag you to hell to succumb to their completely fictional utopian world that they create only amongst themselves, as if whatever lives beyond these golden walls is putrid and deserves to rot to pieces.

As his mind wandered farther and farther away down the country, snowy roads he created with his own imagination of thoughts, he heard the bathroom door softly open, and the angelic creature garbed in a thin - Possibly silk, snow white nightgown - Stepped back into their now shared room, and just as before, her demeanour resembled that of a small, frightened fawn, or a bunny.

When you have to deal with such a pure being that could completely shatter, it’s difficult not to impulsively break down all walls around and snatch her away - It’s close to impossible not to attempt to test all existing boundaries and see the limits where she would break...Or, almost, at least. 

However, abstinence makes for a great suspense and greed...You want more...And more...And the more you wait, the harder it is to resist, but the satisfaction you get when the frail creature trusts you enough to eat from your own palm, and you finally claim it as yours...

It’s Heavenly.

“Sweet Dreams, Fyodor.” she spoke softly, putting on a Tchaikovsky vinyl and picking up a book, getting in bed and reading it, the only light still open being a dim lantern on her nightstand. “How would you like to show me around the city tomorrow?” the brunet asked so casually that it shocked the girl enough to drop her book on her lap. “O-Oh...U-Uhmm...I’m not exactly to go out of this place unless it’s for Christmas shopping...I’m sorry I can’t properly do as you wish...” she quickly took her book back, hiding her face to hide her embarrassment and disappointment. “Well, then, what a gorgeous coincidence, isn’t it? In barely two months, Christmas shall come, and then, you can properly show me around, correct?” the man mused, the ghost of a smirk playing on his face. “..You’re right! My, you’ll get to see the beautiful fairy light and Christmas decorations all around the city! I can’t believe it, you truly chose the perfect time to come here. Oh, and, the ballet, the opera and the national orchestra are going to perform...I believe The Nutcracker is going to play this year...And Traviata. It should be beautiful, don’t you agree?” Y/N asked with a soft smile on her face, sparks gleaming in her eyes, and for the first time since he’s met her, it felt like she was finally alive. “Yes, yes, I would have to agree. And if you are there with me, the experience will be even better.” he hummed, teasing the poor girl who had no idea what else to say to such bold affirmations. “O-Oh...W-Well...Th-Thank you...I-I think...Your presence there will also make the going out more interesting...And nice.” she offered a comeback that pleased the man well enough. “Good night to you as well, Printsessa.”

What a lovely young woman, he thought, as he closed his eyes and let his mind fly at different aspects of life and of humanity, trying to decipher each and every person he met that day and wondering if his assumptions were correct, as they always are.

Morning came by faster than expected as a shy ray of of Sun creeped inside the room through the window, but Fyodor was already awake, writing at the desk rather rapidly - Most likely, he had some inspiration hitting him, so he proceeded to pour out his conflicting thoughts on the paper, all while stealing a peek from time to time at the girl sleeping peacefully, almost as if she was a Disney Princess.

The way the soft light caressed her face had him take the stray streak of h/c hair and pull it back so it won’t tickle her awake, while also being allowed to watch her peacefully inhale and exhale, a small smile on her face...Perhaps she was having a beautiful dream? Was that why she told him to have sweet dreams? Were her dreams her only lovely escape from this horrible reality she was forced to live in?

There were so many mysteries yet to be unveiled, but all in due time, as Fyodor noticed the gentle flutter of her lashes, and with a grace only reserved to a Swan Princess, she raised and stretched with a sweet hum, and the brunet man watched as his eyes felt absolutely blessed seeing such a beauty...

If people complained that Disney Princesses weren’t relatable, since they have messy hair when they wake up, just like Anna, they clearly haven’t seen how perfect Y/N looks, even as she blinks her sleepiness away.

“I see you slept well, Printsessa. Good morning.” she heard him speak, and she noticed it wasn’t as en garde and...It almost seemed...Pleased to see her. “Fyodor...You woke up before me. You should have woke me up. Please wake me up next time, I wouldn’t want you to feel lonely or upset. This place is like a piranha tank...Thread carefully, otherwise, you’re like a little animal who fell in.” she quickly got up, rushing through her daily routine so she could be by his side, not only because her parents assigned her to that, but also because this Dostoevsky man is the only little thing that could rip her out of her completely dull routine and show her a little bit of insight into what could be something out of her imagination entirely. “Aww, the little songbird wishes to spend time with me, how adorable. Very well, Printsessa, what is it that you want to do today? My job here is to observe and write, after all.” he asked, crossing one leg over the other, resting his chin on his fist, watching her with intense interest. “Oh, well, I have to practice the piano today, but other than that, I have nothing in my schedule.” she explained, guiding him to the music room that very much resembled a whole orchestra surrounding a place - Not too small, yet not too big either - Meant for ballroom dancing. “I bet the national orchestra isn’t as fancy as this place is.” he mused, walking up to the cello and tracing his fingertips across the chords. “...Do you know how to play it?” she asked, walking up to him, having the curiosity of a baby fawn exploring the world. “Would you like to hear?” he asked, sitting on the chair and expertly hugging the cello, he grabbed the bow and teased the girl with a mischievous look in his gleaming purple eyes. “Oh, yes, please, if it’s not too much to ask! It would be absolutely splendid.” Y/N clasped her hands together, grinning widely as she stepped a few feet away to give him enough space so he could start playing. “It would be my pleasure, Printsessa.” and with the nod of his head, he started playing the famous Sugar plum fairy song, making the girl gasp in surprise at how gorgeous it sounded.

She crouched to reach the perfect eye view of the bow gliding along the chords, her mouth slightly agape and she gazed with absolute wonder, not even realising when the song was over, for she was much too mesmerised.

“Well, Printsessa, how did you like it?” he rested his arms on the curves of the cello, leaning forwards for a better look at her. “That was better than even our national cello player! It was absolutely stunning, woaw...Just...You left me speechless! You’re...You’re...You are...Perfectly splendid!” she clapped for him rapidly and incredibly enthusiastic, making him chuckle in amusement at her cuteness. “Why, thank you, Printsessa. How about you entertain me now, little Anicyka Maya?” he carefully put the Cello in its place, stepping in front of her and caressing her porcelain skin, quenching his thirst for discovery by seeing her rosy cheeks. “Well...I can’t say I’m anywhere as great as you are...But, sure. I hope you will like it.” she looked down, fidgeting with her fingers as she hurried timidly to the piano, and taking a deep breath, cracking her fingers, she liter her fingers skillfully dance over the keys, as her voice followed every word of the song called “Katyusha”. However, she wasn’t expecting him to applaud and whistle to her, congratulating her for being such a beautiful nightingale. “You clearly underestimate your hard work and talent. Perhaps we should play together one day. I’m sure it would put a smile on your parents’ faces.” Fyodor bowed to kiss Y/N’s hand, only to hear the door opening. “Yes, Mr. Fyodor, we would quite like to hear the two of you dueting together. Since Y/N will have to perform both dance and a song at the piano, as a Christmas tradition, it will show how much she’s improved...If at all. I have to tell you the truth, Mr. Fyodor, over the past few years, she has been exceptionally disappointing...Well, perhaps you coming here will prove to give her a jolt in the right direction.” Y/N’s mother came out of nowhere in the music room, almost as if she was stalking the pair, and Fyodor could see how the Princess’ behaviour changed 180 degrees, and from the excitable and lively young girl, she went back to hide in her guarded shell, trying to protect herself from the numerous blows everyone throws her way.

And just as he expected, once they started playing, despite throwing in one or two intentional mistakes, while she had none of her own, the mother reprimanded her daughter, while praising him. He thought, at first, this was going to be some kind of tough love encouragement and determination she was trying to give the girl, but truly, it was nothing more than unrealistic dreams of an already flawless performance.

This family was nowhere close to being the perfect, or the most loving one, that was without a doubt. But being so horrible to your own daughter, humiliating her in front of a complete stranger, making her tremble softly while trying her best to keep herself from bursting into sobbing fits, was a whole different kind of cruel and unnecessary malice.

For some reason, Fyodor felt a certain kind of warmth in his chest...But not the same kind of warmth he feels when he is around Y/N, but something...Similar to fury. To rage. He was sure he never felt such a personal sort of offense, despite not being him that was belittled.

A terrifying sort of justice bubbled inside him, and he smirked, thinking about just one sole thing.

Crime and Punishment.

Fyodor hoped dearly that it would be only the maternal figure that was the problem, yet it seemed to be much worse, and the toxicity levels that kept vibing all over the place seemed to be equivalent to that of Chernobyl at the time of the explosion.

All throughout the week, he noticed the dirty looks all the staff was giving the Princess, possibly because she was being a shy and quiet pushover...But it went completely beyond his understanding how these servants would even dare be so rude to her, considering she is always so sweet to them, always forgives their mistakes and shares her whole allowance with them in equal parts...

But they complain it’s not enough. They complain others get more, or less, but clearly, they don’t care about that, they just want more and more money...They are greedy jackals who don’t care about the life or soul of a poor little lady who just wants to be happy...

But perhaps happiness isn’t meant for royalty.

A week until Christmas, and Fyodor was ready with the quick draft, and he left it on the desk for Y/N to read, and he couldn’t help but admire and drink in each and every emotion she would express on her lovely face with every word she read, every action, every chapter that stirred more and more conflicting feelings and thoughts battling together - Conflicts that she was trying so hard to hide, no doubt feeling his burning, hawk-like stare on her, analysing her as if she was a new specimen under a microscope.

She was great at hiding what she truly felt, yet her eyes betrayed her inner self, the sparkling of nostalgia and sadness crawling out, shrieking at the top of her lungs to be discovered and taken out of this well of darkness she was drowning in - She wanted to be saved, she was at her breaking point, and clearly, she was afraid. 

Afraid of life. Afraid of people. Afraid of her family. Afraid of this society. Afraid her own self. Afraid of her actions.

And most of all.

She was afraid of spiritual, mental and emotional imprisonment.

As Christmas approached with rapid footsteps, Fyodor could notice how Y/N stiffer, more silent, flinching more, keeping herself in check, alone, barely speaking to anyone...Clearly, she was being stressed out and afraid of the consequences of screwing up anything.

Perhaps, the problem here was the fatalist and completely out of her control destiny she was thrown in, and she knew from the very beginning that, no matter how flawless her performance was, she would still be reprimanded and punished, so she resigned herself to this kind of treatment...The same as every year.

“It’s so beautiful outside...And it’s snowing...! So soft and cold...It’s almost numbing you entirely, but the beauty of Christmas still melts down even the most frozen of hearts.” she spoke with such sadness dripping from her tongue, that Fyodor felt the need to take his fur hat and put it on her head before taking a hold of both of her hands, rubbing them together and kissing her knuckles. “It’s not the day or the decorations that are supposed to move a person, but the kindness and altruism of people. From what I’ve seen in the past weeks, the only consistency in this place is the beauty of your heart and the cruelty of everyone else that keep eclipsing you. You deserve better than this, kroshka.” the man spoke simply, waiting to see the way she’d react. “...I didn’t choose this life, nor did it choose me, yet here I am, trying to keep my head above the water in a whirlpool. I have all my life planned and written ahead of me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. From the very beginning, since before I was even born, they knew they will sell me out to some old, rich man, just so they could benefit, but they cared naught about my well-being, as long as I could keep him entertained in any way possible. The least I can do is try to enjoy the little things...Even if they are nothing more than just that...Little things.” she admits to him, taking away her hands and holding them to her chest, too afraid to trust her own heart. “You let the servants make a mockery out of your kindness. You let your family humiliate you in front of everyone. You let common folk bash you, even if you tip them greatly...Tell me, krasotka, have you read the draft to my book yet?” they continued to stroll down the cobbled streets, looking up at the snowflakes gently dancing in the light of the lamposts, as Fyodor carried most of her shopping bags that held Christmas gifts for everyone but herself. “Yes...I did...But I did not finish it. I was much too afraid to read the ending of it.” she nodded to him, biting her lip nervously. “Afraid? Why ever would you be afraid of reading some words made of ink on a piece of paper?” the man frowned in confusion and interest, hearing such a peculiarity of an answer. “Because...Because I know that Prince Myshkin actually represents me...And how life treats me...So I’m afraid the ending will hint to Anna Karenina’s ending...And I don’t want that. I don’t...That’s why I’m afraid...I’m scared that...I’m scared that I won’t be able to endure this madness anymore, and sooner, rather than later, I will shatter into an unrecognisable version of myself that not even I will decipher...And I will do scary things that I would otherwise be afraid of even thinking about. You know I read the book, I wouldn’t put it past you to tease me like that.” she smiled ironically, shaking her head to stop herself from shuddering at such a dreadful thought. “Congratulations, Printsessa, you are surely insightful. However, I must advise you to read it, and keep in mind that you are not entirely wrong in your thinking. While the ending isn’t identical to Tolstoy’s novel, it isn’t on the complete opposite spectrum either. What you read is one of the possible outcomes of your life, should you choose to remain a passive onlooker and let everyone control you, like a little, pretty doll. Should you, however, choose to take fate into your own hands and finally make your first choice of your life...I can promise you, you are going to be much happier.” Fyodor kissed her forehead before leading her back to the palace so she could take the day off...For tomorrow, she must perform.

But the author wasn’t lying, Y/N realised as she spent the last hours past curfew to finish the book, and she realised that while Myshkin didn’t kill himself, he was still dead inside, and just like the catatonic state he was stuck into, she has been living a life of complete comatose herself.  Fyodor was right all along - A life without choices is not a life, nor is it one without freedom and happiness - And maybe, for the first time in her life, she would make the most difficult decision the universe threw at her, and that was to choose between Duty and Happiness, something every royal member, especially women all over the world, who were seen as nothing more than political and decorative objects meant to create heirs and nothing more, had to pick, and dutifully chose to sacrifice themselves to keep the family and the nobility going.

But not anymore....

“You look beautiful today, my little zaika. This velvet colour of your dress, the way it highlights you stunning silhouette...And this jewellery...And your hair and make up...You are above and beyond the most beautiful person to ever grace this life. How are you going to enchant us today?” Fyodor pat down his white suit so he would look completely impeccable...Or, perfectly splendid, as Y/N would say. “Does it truly matter, in the end? Nobody but you will pay attention, and at the end of the day, I will only hear critiques. It’s the same every year, so there is no point in bothering to stand out, have any particularity or give a name. It just...Is. So...Let me get this over with so I can go to my room and pretend this day never happened...Again.” she muttered, hooking her arm to his, entering the big ballroom together.

A ton of people were there, not only family, but enough family ‘friends’, all of them incredibly rich, with a combined fortune great enough to buy the whole Russia somehow...And all eyes were on her. She didn’t mind. She was used to the nervousness and the either critical or lustful stares she received - But only during these kinds of events, and because she was a Princess, otherwise nobody would have cared about her existence or her feelings...

Nobody...Except for Fyodor.

Until the time of his arrival, nobody cared about her, nor did they bother trying to understand or talk to her, and yet, here he was, always by her side, and frankly, she fell in love with him. She, for the first time in her life, cared naught about everything surrounding her, and she thought solely about him and their time spent together. That is all that mattered to her.

So, with that in mind, and a warm heart, she performed the Waltz of Flowers flawlessly at the piano, along with a few other songs, adding some festive ones. Fyodor was absolutely captivated by the spells she put on people whenever she radiated with such pure gentleness, just like Christmas’ true angel.

Her fingers glided so gracefully over the keys, as she hummed along the music, not even bothering to look at the sheet, for she new everything by heart - But somehow, it all sounded even more magical than before, and nobody could tell why.

But Fyodor knew, and he smiled, figuring out her trick. And he was going to call her out for that when this whole charade was over.  But for now, he allowed himself to enjoy bathing in her radiating warmth, for she was shining brighter than the Sun itself.

By the time she finished her little repertoire, she did a pretty courtesy and walked to the man in the white suit, taking a glass of red wine and sipping from it, that gentle smile never leaving her face.

They exchanged no words, but there was no need for that, as the look in their eyes spoke more than anything else, and they danced the night away, together, in graceful and intimate waltzes, or swaying together, keeping their hearts glued together, beating in sync and feeling each other’s heat.

She might not have wanted to end up like Karenina, but she wasn’t too far away from her situation, and she knew very well, should she leave with this man, she was going to break down every rule, and find an identity for herself, after all these years.

But happiness is emphemeral in the life of a Princess, and just before the Christmas Ball ended, her parents dragged her to the table of this old man, so they would share gifts. This old man, who so happened to be the man chosen to be her future husband, and had fewer hairs on his head and teeth in his mouth than her age.

Most of the gifts were pretty basic - Jewellery for women, cigars, fedoras, watches for men...But for her...She received some of he oddest gifts so far - And yet, she thought life couldn’t surprise her anymore.

Several little outfits, fit for babies, were neatly folded in all boxes, sans one - The sole box being a small, velvet box, which revealed a sapphire ring that expressed the definite bond of marriage that must be officiated very soon, through papers and a church ceremony.

Frozen was the clock, frozen was the time, and frozen was life itself, for the shock was great - Being put on the spot is scarier than the anticipation and fear of venturing into the unknown - Yet here she was, with her supposed fossil of a husband, with several babies promised to be born, and a very angry author, watching the disgusting exchange of pleasantries between the elder people.

He noticed Y/N doing a little courtesy, excusing herself with a nervous smile, and rushing out of the ballroom, the clicks of her elegant heels giving away her location at all time. Following her, he saw her on the edge of the rood, barefoot, her back to the empty space, as she hummed, looking up at the clouds pouring snow, and swaying to her tippy toes occasionally.

“You sure like the feeling of being alive, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be staying there after being faced with such a disgusting situation.” he pointed out, clasping his hands behind his back and carefully stepped towards her. “Life is full of surprises. But it is not called life, unless you have a say in the paths that you go down by. Today, I realised what I have to do in order to achieve true bliss and happiness...Something ethereal, although utopian in its quintessence. I have to make a choice. And right now, I’m making it.” she smiled, extending her arms to the side, resembling a Goddess, as a few stray tears streamed down her face - But they were tears of relief, not of fear, anxiety of depression. She was happy. “You said you didn’t want to choose the path of Karenina, nor of Myshkin, and yet, there you are, on the brink of death, as the way to show that you are no longer a caged bird. Is it truly worth it, in the end?” Fyodor asked, frowning at the delusional words she was spewing. “Death is but the beginning of a new adventure, and with me falling, I will find out what freedom is, unlike all the other Princesses before me. It is not death I’m choosing, nor will I regret it as soon as I step into this free fall hazard, like Karenina, and, as you can see, I chose to wake up from my catatonic state, unlike Myshkin. I know what awaits me as soon as I reach the ground...But do you?” Y/N hummed in amusement, watching the conflict painted all over his face - And it was for the first time that Fyodor showed such confusion and inner turmoil, that much was obvious to her. “Stop this, Y/N, I don’t understand your reasoning, but don’t kill yourse- “ but he couldn’t finish his sentence, for the girl uttered just a few words - Words that changed even the rotation of the Earth around the Sun - And as she pushed herself on the tips of her toes, she embraced the cold wind of Winter being her guide down to the ground, as she watched the snowflakes following her down.

And she smiled.

Because love won, and life won, and she knew she chose correct - These weren’t the times to choose everyone else over herself anymore, and nor is she a saint, a martyr, an angel, or some perfect Christian role model.  She was just a woman thirsting for happiness and for the tangible sensation of life and of flying, and with this jump, she got completely wasted.

The secure embrace of a white angel made sure she lived for another day, but not quite, for her guardian angel jumped to save her, yet had no idea himself that he wasn’t the only special one, after all, and just as they were going to reach the ground, time seemed to stop, and they reached the ground gracefully and softly, like two linked feathers.

She lay down on the crystal blanket of snow, laughing mirthfully, almost with a childlike charm, as her long hair was sprawled all over her, and Fyodor’s arms were fiercely holding her, and he looked down at her, his eyes wide in understanding.

“I didn’t choose death. I chose life. I chose love...I chose you, and I chose me. I knew you had an ability too, and that you were confident in it, so I was sure that, should you choose to, you could jump from the roof of the palace to save me - Which you did. I never really have the opportunity to use my ability, but it’s rather useful in some situations, if I can say so myself. So, by the way you’d respond to my feelings and actions, I’d know whether I chose right or not...I think we both know the answer now, don’t we?” she grinned mischievously, extending a hand to his face to caress it gently. “That’s the most idiotic, most reckless thing anyone has ever one...And yet, you strategised everything, as if we were pieces in a game of chess. How did you get the courage to reach such a conclusion?” his voice was low, like a murmur, trying to understand her impossible, labyrinthine mind. “Life offered me a Christmas gift today, and that was serendipity, so, I used it. Everything else was a perfect strategy of a game of chess I played myself - The White King versus the Black King - And, was far as my luck and the universe brought about, I believe I won. But you must still answer back, otherwise, the magic will vanish.” Fyodor noticed a smirk growing on her face - One that somehow resembled his, and he almost felt conflicted seeing her mimicking him in his demeanour, in a way...But he also felt incredibly proud. “I cannot take you with me, Y/N. The part I walk is dangerous, it could even be fatal, and I would rather you not walk down a boulevard of broken dreams. You just now achieved happiness, don’t throw it out of the window. It a world full of crimes, I choose to be both the justiciar and the executioner of the unworthy. In a world of crime, I shall inflict punishment upon the evil-doers and paint this world red with the blood of the guilty.” he wanted her, he truly didn’t want to leave without her, nor did he want to leave her alone, here, with these hyenas, but could he really have it in his heart to endanger her so? “Fyodor, my darling, it matters naught for me whether I live or die, as long as the journey is by your side, and I’m not shackled anymore. I want to see, I want to hear, I want to touch, I want to taste, I want to smell, I want to learn. Everything. Without exception. There is a whole world out there, open, waiting to be explored and unveiled, and I shall be its explorer. As long as I have you by my side, I will surely be fearless. Being a hero, being a villain, or anything in between is of no concern for me...However, I cannot deny that I would be rather...Interested in seeing you deliver the sentence down to...Some specific people.” she giggled, winking at him, as she obviously hinted towards her kin and the unlimited amount of gossips she has heard about so many people, over the years.

With a wide smirk on his face, Fyodor Dostoevsky helped Princess Y/N on her feet and gave her a passionate, fire-like kiss, before picking her up bridal style and making their way to her room, so she would start packing and leave at the earliest convenience.

There may still be a bit of official work to do at the palace, and as his ability is called, there is no crime without punishment, he was going to make sure of that. Until then, there was one thing certain, and one alone, that was going to guide the both of them to a path of exciting uncertainty and thrill.

“I love you, my dear Y/N.”

[yellowmagicalgirl]

What a Beautiful Wedding (and Yes, but What a Shame)

Douxie asks Aja for advice. Krel asks Archie for almost the exact same advice: how to properly propose.

Written for the Camelot/Akiridion-V prompt for Krexie Week. Yes, I know it’s late. The title’s from a Panic! at the Disco song, and there’s some historical inaccuracies because I didn’t want to have to deal with historical homophobia. Also there's a single mention of violence.

AO3

FFN

Getting a private audience with the queen of Akiridion-V was difficult. It was less difficult given that Douxie was her brother's boyfriend of several years, but that didn't mean that Aja wasn't a busy woman. And it was even harder for Douxie to get a truly private audience with her, one without Krel. Sure, this was a conversation that intimately involved Krel, but he was not allowed to be here to listen to the conversation. Therefore, Douxie had had several months to prepare his question. He shouldn't have been so nervous, except some part of him worried that he might have to duel Aja for Krel's honor. Or if not Aja, then Zadra or Varvatos. And Douxie would probably only be allowed to use a serrator, because honor.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Aja asked as she closed the door.

Douxie wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. "What are Akiridion marriage proposals like?"

"Did he?" Aja put all of her hands to her mouth.

"If Krel proposed in a traditional Akiridion manner, I wouldn't be asking you because he would mope about me not telling him whether or not I wanted to marry him, and I'd be asking Krel. No, I wanted to know so I could propose to him."

"I see," Aja said, and her voice was more grave than Douxie expected. "Do you truly love my brother?"

"Of course I do!" The only living person that Douxie loved as much as Krel was Archie.

Aja gave him a thin smile. "I believe you, and I know that Krel cares about you deeply. But you should know, that I can think of one reason why he would reject any proposal of a formal marriage."

Douxie frowned. "What?"

"According to the laws of the Akiridion Empire," Aja began, scowling. She had done her best to reform Akiridion-V to be unlike the greater empire that had abandoned her and her family to Morando's coup. However, even with the power of the entire planet and its allies, she couldn't win an outright war with the rest of the empire. Not unless she or Krel used the full power of Gaylen against the rest of the empire. "Any royal who marries a non-royal Akiridion must get permission from the Emporer of Akiridion Prime. Otherwise, they'll lose their status as a royal."

"They'll cut his arms off?"

"No, nothing that barbaric. Or at least, it hasn't happened for hundereds if not thousands of keltons, to the best of my knowedge. And we're such a backwater part of the empire that lesser nobles could marry outside the caste with little difficulty. But Krel's the King-in-Waiting, and -"

"- I'm nobody on the galactic scale, and therefore the Emporer wouldn't approve of us." In fact, outside of Arcadia Oaks and Earth's supernatural community, and niche alt emo punk goth rock circles, Douxie was a nobody on Earth as well. "Is that why you broke up with Steve?"

"No, it was because we couldn't make long-long-long distance work. Though, I wouldn't have been able to marry him anyways." Aja sighed. "Trust me, I want the two of you to be happy together. And I know Krel doesn't care much for his status as a royal - he'd rather be remembered for his accomplishments as a physicist, engineer, hero to multiple planets... But I suspect he might refuse if only to keep me from being the only member of House Tarron. And if he does, I will try to convince him that him marrying you wouldn't be a betrayal to me."

"I understand. And, it's not like we have to get married. I want to marry Krel, but in the end it's more of a legal thing than proof of how much we love each other."

"Okay. So Akiridion proposals don't involve any physical gifts. Instead, they're a dance. I mean, you could probably modify it so you end it in the Earth way, by genuflecting and offering a ring. I'm going to walk you through the steps of a commoner's dance, and then I'll try to teach you the movements that a royal would use. Maybe you could use your magic to mimic the parts you'd need an extra pair of arms for?"

Douxie was out and about. Running errands, or something. Krel didn't mind. It gave him the perfect opportunity to talk to his boyfriend's familiar without risking Douxie walking in on the conversation. Not when the subject of the conversation was supposed to be a surprise for Douxie.

Krel had prepared this question for several months. Or rather, he had prepared himself to ask. He had looked deep within himself, and at his relationship with his sister. She was doing remarkably well as queen, far better than Krel could have ever imagined before the coup. She didn't need him as an heir, not when she had recently started mentoring their cousin's children. One from House Ventis and one from House Akraohm, in hopes that by keeping this balance their relatives wouldn't go to war like they had been for hundereds of keltons before their parents had married.

He would ask his question to Archie, and then Krel would ask Aja if she was okay with this, and then he would ask Douxie to marry him.

Krel placed the plate of roasted salmon in front of Archie. "What were Camelot's marriage customs like?"

Archie took a bite of the salmon before looking up at Krel. "Why do you want to know?" Archie took another bite, swallowed, and then sat up straight. "Oh."

"Yeah. I know what modern Earth proposals are like, and as much as I hated learning about how to properly court another royal I know how Akiridion proposals work, but I wanted to do something that would be more personal and meaningful for Douxie."

"Then you wouldn't want to do a proposal from Camelot."

"You don't know what they look like, either?"

"No, I know. When you're close to invisible to the castle, you see plenty, including all the stages of love. But back in Camelot, Douxie never could have gotten married."

"Why not?"

"It's a law older than Arthur. Wizards weren't allowed to marry. Granted, prior to Arthur taking the throne, it was only enforced when the happy couple was rich enough that a dowry would be more than a nice set of wooden dishes and a single chicken. Or if they lived in an urban area. The law was meant to try and keep the magical population low. After all, there was a stigma against children born out of wedlock, so it was supposed to keep them from having magical children. Never mind that the law targeted cis, same-sex couples the same way it targeted ones that would be able to procreate. Or how abstinence only sex-ed doesn't work. Or how wizards can be born to non-magical parents and vice-versa.

"So, no. Douxie wouldn't have ever expected to marry under Camelot's laws, and so using Camelot's customs would not be more personal and meaningful. Besides, that tradition includes nailing your intention to be married to the door of a constable. Please don't go and commit vandalism to celebrate your engagement."

"Not planning on it."

Krel Tarron couldn't wait to become Krel Casperan.

[papirouge]

[I'm much more concerned whenever I see women acting like hanging out with women was difficult because women are so "catty and annoying".]

same, but i do understand it because when i was young this was very much my attitude. not because i thought men were better or less annoying than women, but because there's such a "fitting into the group" for young girls. i wasn't part of the crowd since i couldn't afford to look fashionable, didn't know anything about make up, and was generally tomboyish. so most girls behaved catty towards me and didn't seem to want anything to do with me.

honestly now that i'm older and i actually do fit in it's a lot better, but back then, it just felt like i'd never meet any girl my own age who was nice, despite all the women older than me or female teachers being an absolute godsend.

it's a complicated issue. i feel like guys never deal with these dynamics at all. socially, their groups tend to be a bit "dumb". even within a religious context i see women being much harsher on each other than the men. girls who made a mistake in their teens (sex, a relationship) are cast out or seen as a bad person/bad influence, but the guys who did are seen as having repented and given a new slate even by other women and still seen as a "catch" if they redeemed themselves here. it's annoying and i wish we could solve this issue for society.

"guys never deal with these dynamics"

Sorry anon but this is very wrong and boys totally bully each others for not fitting in. I vividly remember in middle school a boy in my class being teased by others boys for not being masculine enough. They were mocking his clothing style and attitude. It's just that men for some reason learn quickly how to stay on code and won't go out of their way to mock fellow men before women to show how much better or more masculine they are compared to these mantlet and how husbando material they are¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I think the reason female catch early to obsessive seeking for male approval is bc male are at the top of the society in terms of value & privilege so by trying to distance themselves from other women and try to relate more to men, they aim to leverage this closeness to male social power into actual intrinsic added value(?). That's why "pickme" are more often than not obsessed with male companionship & marriage: they want to be valued by men in contrast to other 'low value' women

It's important to note that, unlike women, boys who were bullied by other boys, don't end up hating being around other boys and won't shut up about how men are mean and nasty, and prefer being around women. This phenomenon only happens with women for the reasons I explained in the previous paragraph.

It's okay to not feeling like fitting in, but social & gender norms aren't exclusive to women (although I totally agree they are somehow more pressuring i.e female beauty culture).

You're right though about women being harder on girls. As I always said, women, and especially CHRISTIAN women, hold women on much higher standards than men. For example, you'll have Christian women making whole posts about the godliness married Christian women should have, and submissiveness and beauty and etiquette... meanwhile they'll simp after "toxic masculinity" and deadbeats whose only redeeming quality is not being sex addicts, I- So being manipulative & violent can be "sexy" when it comes to men but women should be adamant in upholding all these godly qualities?? That's not realistic. Also with that kind of taste in men, such women will most likely end up with a narc that will show them that "toxic masculinity" isn't that sexy hot thing bitter feminazi wanted to keep from them bc they hate men .. "toxic masculinity" translates through femicide & rape statistics and I wish male worshipper Christian women would stop going Stevie Wonder about it - but I digress.

Abstinence from sex is reinforced to both girls & boys BUT I admit girls are callled to be more vigilant because they are the one carrying the baby and regardless of a pregnancy being a shared responsability, it takes a bigger toll on the pregnant girl. So it makes sense for girls to be more aware of these risks.

This issue won't be solved unless we, individually, own up our responsibility and stop the cycle from repeating itself. Why do people feel pressured to reject other women for not fitting in? Why do women can't stay on code and grasp that bitching about other female won't by them respect from men? Why is putting up with men seen as an actual goal for social equality by some women?

[beloved-judged]

My first fete

But before that, I found a bomb ass taqueria two blocks from my apartment. It's currently saving my sanity in this, a town of white retirees who find flavor personally offensive.

Thank you to all the Mexicans out there bringing the flavor to places like this. I'm eating a lot of business lunches that make me cry on the inside. If I see one more sushi roll with cream cheese in it, I might have to go play in traffic.

I had the chance to attend my first in-person fete recently--for Kouzin. It was small, even intimate. A double handful of us, celebrating a spiritual marriage (to Ezili Freda) and Kouzin.

The people were amazingly lovely, as a group, but it is the spirits that I found most ... well, like nothing I have ever experienced before.

Scattered impressions: the gimlet eye of my priest fixed on me, the spirit in him unblinkingly staring at me. Unnervingly staring at me.

And I was unable to prevent myself from staring back, fascinated by what I could not see with my eyes, fascinated.

And I was unable to be tactful, unable to be gentle, unable to do anything but answer. The rude answer, the naked answer, my own body shaking with a tension I did not know I still carried.

Papa Guede's sly remarks about our tension, the tension I did not realize so troubled me, his voice making me thirst as I haven't in so long I thought I had forgotten how.

I was more open than I meant to be when the ceremony was over, drinking in the intimacy of being known and knowing. I might have been asked anything, and was certainly asked a few questions about relationships.

Tremors, the bodies of the mambos shaking as the spirit took them where they stood, voices changing, the handkerchief over their faces as the spirit left, one spirit after another taking them, coming down quickly and staying to dispense advice.

Bodies, oh bodies, so visceral they came. No fine and abstract distinctions between spirit and body, they married themselves to us, spirit to spirit and spirit to flesh.

So visceral I felt, the need, my eyelids fluttering up during the prayers, drawn up, fighting to stay conscious, to pay attention.

The angry eyes of Papa Legba, his voice deep and husky, coming from the throat of a sweet-voiced mambo, his body bent over the cane, his lame legs dragging as he slowly walked.

The spirits calling me to come and be seen, to come stand so they could see and address me. Anaisa's demand, smoke trickling from her mouth: "are you done being a hermit?"

The family name she gave me was poetic.

Diala's advice. Her earthy reminder of how we advertise what we are, as women. The silent, imperious (exasperated) presence of Ezili Freda.

I burst into tears as Diala and Freda arrived, listening to Diala keen. I don't know why. I could not bear it. The sound of her tears pierced me through, instantly.

Coconut-head, Kouzin called me. So hard-headed, so stubborn.

How personal they are, how very not the impersonal spirits I imagined, I learned in Christian churches. It was like being upbraided by a supernaturally knowledgeable older sibling, if that sibling had a whole lot more power and authority than me.

They were gentle enough with me, but I ... well, let's call it culture shock.

They are not the gently emasculated presence of Jesus from the churches of my childhood.

They are not the toothless universal forgiveness so often mentioned, nor the abstract, impersonal god who does not interfere in the lives of people, leaving them to anything they want to do.

Their advice was quite pointed, and a few came angry. I was struck by both their humanity--their emotions, their desire to be seen and noticed, their desire to prosper--and their inhumanity. I could not lie in their presence. I could not get away from the eye that observed me within and without. Their eyes traveled to me in the small group and stuck. They demanded I come forward, and I came, unable to stop myself, to stand in my white skirt, my white blouse, my hands wringing in the head scarf I wore draped around my neck.

It frightened me. They... it frightened me.

We have you, they said.

Their humanity. Their inhumanity.

I wish it had been more reassuring. I feel horribly guilty that I knotted up harder, finally causing Papa Guede to explain to the room that no one had ever had me, I had everyone else. There was a collective sigh behind me. I stood riveted, at war with myself, part of me wanting to run away from that eye, from the sight in it and the strangeness and my own foolish inability to simply be in the moment, the morbid fear of doing wrong that I blurted out the moment they asked.

We have you, they said.

Some part of me had promised myself that there would be a more paternal or maternal presence, something I have never really had. I cried on the way home, too keyed up, too full of competing emotions.

I cried later. I wanted to be held, foolishly staking my feelings on it. Foolishly promising myself they would touch me, they would offer what I did not know, truly, how much I wanted.

And later I cried at their anger. I have been the child of angry people, the child struck down in anger who picks themselves up, wondering why they cannot be loved.

I want to love them. I want them to love me.

The chasm between us, I stood unable to move, my hands shaping fists over and over in the air, my mouth moving, tears streaming from my eyes but I could not sob or cry out, the eye of the spirit on me.

It's me. I cannot be loved closely yet. It's because of me.

Like nothing I've ever done before, like nothing I've known, I was only partially in control of myself, a collection of morbid fears and tension and emotions run rampant, an adult and a child or something less than adult, breathing as if in a marathon, jerking with the war in my self, in my limbs.

Every time I look at you, Anaisa said, you're frowning. Life is too short.

Hard on yourself, Kouzin said. So hard on yourself.

You make things too complicated, Legba said. Sometimes, it's very simple.

Do you know, said Diala.

No, I replied. But I believe.

Isn't it funny how we can want intimacy and be terrified by it?

These cultures of abstinence, these cultures of false feelings, of the straight face and the lionized emotional deadening that make it so much easier to frown.

Oh, I will be going back, fumbling toward that intimacy, so hungry, I am starving for a food I can barely believe I am allowed to eat.

[charlottemadison42]

On Good Omens and Faith

Here follow personal thoughts on what Good Omens has meant to me as an Exvangelical. There’s a lot of healing & hope here, but it gets a bit dark first, as worthy stories do.

CW: I wasn’t badly spiritually abused in church, but I’ll be discussing things that are spiritually abusive: purity culture, sexphobia, queerphobia, abortion, mild self-harm, failure to treat mental health appropriately, ableism -- plus the special ways church authority makes all of these especially hard.

I’m personally an atheist but this message is not an argument against faith itself, rather against the specific subculture I grew up in. If you are a person of faith you’re welcome here.

I grew up in the American Evangelical subculture of the 80′s and 90′s, in the Keith Green/DC Talk/Left Behind/Veggie Tales era. I got saved at a Carman concert in sixth grade, and re-pledged my faith just to be extra sure every year at summer camp and youth group retreats.

This upbringing is not unusual. Doesn’t make me special. But its effects were real.

I’m finally engaged in a reckoning with it, in the “I should maybe talk this over with a support group or therapist” sense. I was a worship leader and youth leader at a Vineyard church when I left my faith abruptly in 2007*. It took me ten years to tell my family and friends that I was an atheist. For that decade I didn’t think about it -- but when I confessed to my loved ones two years ago, the processing began in earnest.

If you came up Evangelical, you already know how literal our belief in angels and demons can be in certain strains of the church. Until I was 26, I believed they were real entities genuinely and invisibly at war all around me. The End Times were real and we were in them. The Antichrist was whatever high profile democrat could be weaponized at the moment, the Rapture was nigh, and Armageddon was imminent (which explained why tension kept building in the Middle East).

My church community regularly discussed friends and neighbors’ problems in the language of  demon possession or harrassment: depression was a demon, addiction was a demon, promiscuity was a demon. I was part of casual and formal exorcisms and the occasional healing. No holy water, but there were hours of fervent prayers and tears, speaking in tongues and anointing with oil. It’s like a fever dream looking back at it now.**

Shout out to my other teens and tweens of the Frank Peretti era, forbidden from reading books of fantasy any later than Lewis or Tolkein -- Xanth was forbidden, Hogwarts was demonic. We were given instead (retrospectively) horrifying books about spiritual warfare, Christian takes on historical fiction, and end times fantasies. But they weren’t sold as fantasy to us, it was all real. Adults in positions of power confirmed it over and over. Narnia might be allegory but This Present Darkness supposedly illustrated spiritual truths.

I remember telling a trusted church teacher at age 10 or 11 that sometimes I would get scared at night, in the dark, and feel a palpable terror that kept me awake. They told me with no hint of comfort, “That means a demon is visiting you and sitting on your chest, trying to oppress you with fear so you will sin. Don’t wake your parents or read a book, instead you should pray or read only the Bible until the demon is compelled to leave, either by an angel or the presence of God.” This adult was affirmed by amens and mm-hmms.

I took this teaching to heart. I also understood, by implication, that if the bad feeling stayed with me then I was praying wrong -- that no angel would rescue me that night. I knew that my fear as it compounded in the dark was itself a sin that made God harder for me to reach.

These are not things that should be told to children.

Then there were the prophecies. (read more if this resonates with you, if not I’ll clip it here so I don’t take up your whole screen)

Anyone could prophesy in most churches I attended. Dreams were prophecies, visions were prophecies, vague feelings were prophecies. (That gave nightmares / being hormonal / being really hungry an awful lot of sway at Bible study.)

I had a woman prophesy over me weeping, with her hands buried in my hair, that she felt overwhelming grief for my future child. I was 23.

I have no child, and I harbored the secret at the time was that I didn’t want one -- a rebellion for me as a married woman. I feared she was prophesying an abortion in my future, and I was inconsolable for months at the damning choice that would visit me someday. (As of this writing at age 38 I’ve never been pregnant, for which I give all thanks to modern birth control.) I still wonder what happened to that woman’s child, or pregnancy, or perhaps her desire for a child, that this was her prophecy for me.

I heard much darker things prophesied over other people. I remember career changes (ill-advised) and marriages staying together (they shouldn’t have) and mission trips undertaken (that assuredly should not have been) because of prophesies.

Last, of course, I didn’t know it yet but I had many queer friends at the time. Some of them didn’t know it. We had no context in our small town -- and no corners of the internet to hide in and learn context, because the internet didn’t do much more than access our local library catalog at the time. I was told that demons sat on my chest to oppress me as a child, but I was shielded from understanding what a lesbian actually was until I was sixteen.

I remember feeling vaguely guilty when we prayed over this or that person in youth group, entreating God that they could resist their base urges. We prayed that they could choose a life of abstinence if they had to, rather than enter sexual sin and be cast out. I felt guilty but I still joined the circle to pray.

I’m sorry. I was wrong. Part of me knew it at the time. I wish I had listened to that part of me because that it was correct. There are fragments of my former faith I still treasure, but those prayers were rotten to the core.

Sidebar: Luckily that feeling of guilt bloomed quickly into rejecting queerphobic doctrine. By age 20 I decided I could only attend churches that did not preach homophobic takes on scripture from the pulpit, and that did not advocate/imply advocacy for any particular political party. The reason I mention this: if YOU are currently a person of faith in this position, uncomfortable with what you hear from your leadership, go find a church that’s queer-affirming, gives to the poor, and advocates for immigrants. Live in a conservative area? Create or join a home church. That’s what the early church looked like anyway. Don’t shrug off this responsibility. Shine a light.

Anyway. Several years later, I fell.

I had to step down from multiple church leadership positions in one day. My entire life changed in two months; marriage, job, home, friends, everything uprooted when I could no longer pretend to believe. I didn’t tell my family why everything fell apart, even as they let me crash their couches.

I had wanted to be a good believer. I read apologetics, the mystics, eschatology, theophostics. I taught and attended study groups, I took troubled teens out to coffee, I served the homeless, I waited til marriage. I was in church as many as thirty hours weekly. When I first felt my faith slipping I said “not yet,” and I read the entire Bible straight through twice, in different translations, while journaling through “My Utmost for His Highest.” Then, unsatisfied, I read and annotated the New Testament in interlinear Greek. I gave it my everything.

What could replace all that?

Time, it turns out. And freedom.

Freedom to not think about it was perhaps the kindest freedom. The constant labor of self-evaluation and thought policing that goes into Evangelical Christianity is exhausting. Letting it go of it felt like getting my mind back. Or owning it for the first time, since I never knew this freedom before. I had even been seeking counseling because I was hearing multiple voices in my head at once, all mine, often arguing. That problem vanished the hour I deconverted. I heard only one voice anymore, and it was my own.

For ten years I was free to just not think about it.

When I decided to remarry I realized that I didn’t want to explain to anyone why my ceremony would not include prayers or communion. So I told my loved ones at last that I was an atheist, a decade late. They received it graciously, and I’m sure they had known-but-not-acknowledged it for a long time. I hope they don’t worry about me or pray behind my back for my salvation. But if they do I can’t accept responsibility for it anymore.

Since that confession I’ve finally felt compelled to back at what all actually happened in church. It seemed so normal to me at the time. But wait, it wasn’t:

I exorcised people. I laid on hands for healings. I encouraged episodes of religious rapture, falling out, and speaking in tongues, and as a worship leader I knew the music cues to bring them about (yes, there are certain chord and tempo changes for that). I was present for prophecies that changed people’s lives and might have issued some myself, I don’t remember. I alienated people who didn’t fit in, whether because they were queer or just because they didn’t conform to church culture. I witnessed abuse and had no language to report it or even comprehend it. I hurt people. I was hurt.

I was told there were real demons in my room and I had to pray them away all by myself.

The work of undoing this mindf*ck (sorry friends of faith, that’s how it felt) suddenly turned urgent after being ignored for a decade. I can’t afford therapy, but thankfully Twitter chats and message boards and podcasts exist (thank you, @goodchristianfun​ and @exvangelical​).

And then -- out of the blue -- along came my own personal angel and demon, along with Frances McDormand herself. I watched it on a whim. (Actually no, David Tennant’s hair made me.)

Apparently Good Omens had a few things to say directly to my mindf*cked subconscious:

1) Are you scared of demons in a pathological childhood trauma way? Here, have a helping of this amalgam of your favorite Doctor and scariest ever Marvel villain tearing it up as the demon Crowley.

2) Does your mild bookish personality and respect for the culture you grew up in keep you reflexively deferential to authority, even as it gaslights you and hurts others? Enjoy some Michael Sheen as the angel Aziraphale.

3) Are you stuck still mentally assigning a male gender to the god you always claimed was beyond gender? Boom, meet Her in all Her ineffable wisdom.

4) Are you terrified of the End Times, both as a Biblical horror of childhood and as an adult who reads the f*cking news? Let’s fantasize awhile about a solvable apocalypse (because what would that even look like, yo).

5) Do you keep reflexively binarizing good and evil? Still giving in to the temptation to characterize humans as righteous or fallen, especially celebrities and political prospects? Spend some time on Our Side with Adam, the utterly human Antichrist, as he makes choices that matter -- some goodish, some baddish, all with mixed consequences, because that’s what humans do.

6) Do you need more queer love stories in your life? Yes you do. Yes. YES. Here it is. The good stuff. Whether it’s gay, trans, genderfluid, asexual, agender, metaphysical, whatever (I’m enjoying reading all these takes and more on AO3) it’s a hell of a love story.

Good Omens was a f*cking revelation.

I’m not sure why the show hit me as hard as it did in the Exvangelical feels. It’s not that it’s a perfect show, but it was the right thing at the right time for me, and it brought a truck full of dynamite to the excavation I was just beginning with a trowel and a makeup brush. I finished watching ep 6 and thought “why do I feel like I’ll be thinking about this every single day for years?”

And then I looked down, and lo and behold I had an open chest wound -- inside of which I found the banished memory of a child trembling and praying in terror in a dark room.

There was a lot that I forgot about in the ten years it took me to hike away from Evangelical life. It all came rushing back.

I had forgotten the sweat and cries during exorcisms and the heat of laying on of hands. I had forgotten fits of ecstatic tears of self-hatred and self-denial so strong they were almost blissful, as I sang and chanted mantras like “I am nothing, You are everything.” I had forgotten giving away ten percent of my income until I was 26. I had forgotten the constant mental effort of Being A Proverbs 31 Woman, about submission and complementarianism and feeling responsible to guard the virtue of men by never tempting them. I had forgotten the pressure to not even masturbate before marriage and to become a sexual athlete the night after.

I had forgotten the hours and hours of daily prayers. Every phrase was carefully carved in language my superego ran by my doctrine, to make sure no hint of rebellion ever bled through. I washed words of need and doubt and frustration from my mind so they could never slip between me and my Heavenly Father. I didn’t just want to hide thoughts God wouldn’t like, I would have cut them out with violence if I knew how. As a result I picked and ticced and cut and exhibited symptoms of OCD.

It hurt to remember all of this at once during a BBC Amazon Prime miniseries. It confused me. It confused my spouse. I looked at all these feelings, exposed and piled in a massive dirty heap -- and I spotted the straps I used to haul it around with me for decades. Who knew I could carry all that? The weight of faith?

But I don’t have to pick it up again. I had a new story to help me frame my story. I felt equipped with a flaming sword to face my past and a new syntax to describe the old ideas I'm ready to let go of.

I got to recast Heaven and Hell. I was invited to ask myself whether a cozy cluttered bookshop doesn’t beat them both hands down.

I got to reimagine angels and demons, good and bad, intentions and consequences. I was invited to live in the reality that we’re all of us humans in between, and that I’m probably still overinvested in the value of Good and Bad as yardsticks.

I got to reimagine western history. The show’s perspective of history is very limited and Eurocentric, but it’s also the version of history I was taught at an early age, which made the story a useful lens to deconstruct what I learned before I knew much about critical thinking.

The opening of Episode 3 in particular f*cked me up. First Aziraphale lies to God and She vanishes, then Crowley starts poking holes in the story of the Flood, then at the Crucifixion -- I started breathing hard on my first viewing, experiencing a real physiological threat response. I was loving it, of course, but distressed panicky love.

The second time I watched it I realized what was happening: I was going back to Sunday School to revisit ideas I absorbed before I was fully sentient, and examining them in the light of fully formed adult secular morality. They look different from here.

When God withdraws Her presence from Aziraphale in the first few moments of Ep 3 as he prevaricates (well, lies) I remembered the one great fear of my faithful life: that I could sin a particular sin and as punishment I would be cut off from God’s presence. As a believer in the End Times, that meant the Rapture could occur at any moment and I might be rejected, be left behind to experience the Tribulation.

Now, from some remove, I realize that I always had one fear larger. It’s a thought I never allowed myself to entertain consciously. Good Omens unearthed it like a vein of flowing lava:

If the Apocalypse as my church describes it is real, how could God want it to happen? And if God does, is this a God I want to worship? If I don’t, but I’ll be damned for that, is my faith freely chosen?

Whose side could I really be on, in the End Times, if not Heaven’s or Hell’s?

These are not small questions.

I’m relieved that I answered them a long time ago for myself.

But even after the answering, there’s fallout; a million little knots to untie and ideas to unlearn. We all get to spend our lives doing this sort of archaeological dig through our childhood baggage, I suppose. My Stuff is certainly not unique. It’s just a lot. Same as everyone’s.

But once in awhile a story comes along and helps us with the process. A sharper spade, a better tool for the work. In my case, through Good Omens I received demolition-grade explosives. It gave me a framework, characters, and a personal shorthand to speed my own digging and contextualize what I find.

If your history is kinda like mine -- whether you’re still in the faith or not -- be sure to talk to someone about church stuff from your past. The weird stuff, the dark stuff, the things you did/people did to you that now seem “off.” Even if you’ve grown past the point of “mental illness requires an exorcism” there are still dangerous ideas buried like land mines in our moral matrices. Self-hatred, intolerance, fear of abandonment, fear that failure is damnation, presumption that “we’re” on the “right side” of everything and “they’re” not, fear that we the apocalypse Is Written by powers above and so we can’t change it.

I’m so happy I know a story with an Our Side now.

I’m so happy I know a story in which the true test of devotion to God’s Ineffable Plan is turning away from the dictates of Heaven and turning toward the World.

I’m so glad I met Aziraphale -- so like me, still seeking Heaven’s approval far too late in the game. I’m so grateful he found the courage to walk away, and I’m so glad I did too. I love that I know Crowley now, self-pwning lovelorn disaster demon of minor inconveniences and imagination and free will. I’m so happy Crowley was there to tempt his friend with questions from the start, and to receive him when he was finally ready to break away.

I’m so proud to know Adam and the Them and Anathema and Newt, inept humans trying their hardest against unstoppable cosmic forces, getting it right not just despite their flaws but through and because of them.

I’m so grateful I’ve finally managed to completely swap to female pronouns for God (thanks, Frances). I still love stories about Her, I still enjoy talking theology and religion. And after 20+ years of insisting God is above gender but masculinizing him, it’s about time I switch to thinking of God as Her for a spell to even things out.***

I’m so thankful for the nicest fandom I’ve known in ages and all the glorious queer beautiful amazing body-positive art and writing growing in this fabulous garden.

Confession accomplished.

CM

P.S. I might not have the time/resources you need to chat with you if you’ve had similar experiences or want to discuss. If you need help be sure to reach somewhere healthy to get it. If you witness abuse, online or in church or otherwise -- report it, block it, mute it, shut it down, whatever is in your power.

P.P.S. If you have words of rebuke for me from a churchy place, and/or critiques about gender or politics, sorry, don’t give a f*ck. This is my story to tell and I am secure in my spiritual status. I am free indeed.

++++++++++++++

*Re. Deconversion: Or rather, I had my faith zapped out of me in what turned out to be the truest rapturous religious experience of my life. It happened in a church service; I almost fell out and spoke in tongues with the tingling power of understanding that I was truly and finally faithless. It’s an interesting deconversion story if you're familiar with charismatic church stuff, ask me sometime over tea. It felt like this.

**Re. Exorcisms: Most disturbing was the regular practice of exorcising people who clearly needed professional help for their mental health. I was present when prayers against demons happened over cases of depression, manic depression, epilepsy and other seizures, addiction, schizophrenia, and psychotic episodes. My particular church did acknowledge the role of modern medicine, but felt that the true core of these issues was spiritual and that medication ultimately could not solve a problem of demonic infestation. Looking back now I shudder and weep to think that this happened, that I was part of it once, and that it still happens daily at churches everywhere. It can be unspeakably damaging to the people being prayed over. If this practice happens in your church, leave. If it happens at a church where you’re in leadership, end it.

***Re. God as She/Her:  I encourage you to find your own appropriate pronouns for God, whether you believe in Them or not. For me personally, still reeling from the Proverbs 31 upbringing, She/Her is very healing for now. But gender is a construct etc. etc.

[truthasgodsays]

What's Going On In The World?

GEORGE L. FAULL

Antony Flew, world’s most respected atheist has changed his mind.  He is now an admitted deist (one who believes God created the world and went off and left it to run on its own with no revelation of His will to His creatures.).  The thing that convinced him was the design of DNA.  He reminded journalists that even Darwin required a creator to start it all.  He also says that the resurrection of Jesus has more evidential support than any other miracle.  His stumblingblock is the problem of evil in the world.  He regards Islam with horror and fear due to their desire to conquer the world.

Robert Schuller, of the Glass Cathedral.

Two of Schuller’s students are Bill Hybels and Rick Warren.  Schuller says we do wrong in making people aware that they are sinners.  He stresses mans value instead of mans unworthiness.  The boys have learned well.  Hybel, Warren, and Schuller have had more input in our Churches in the last 10 years than Paul or Peter.  Incidentally, Schuller said it would not disturb him to come back in 200 years and find his descendants Muslims.  That will never happen simply because he isn’t coming back.

Fuller Theological Seminary President speaks to Mormons.

In speaking to them in Salt Lake, Richard Moun apologized that evangelicals “have often misrepresented the faith and beliefs of the Latter Day Saints.  We evangelicals have sinned against you.”  Better think twice before you send your Preacher to a Fuller Church growth meeting.  Our preachers are attending in droves to Rick Warren, Jack Hayford and other such gurus  who espouse the Fuller attitude.  They invite in every hue of sectarianism to these Church growth meetings including Mormons.

TBN’s Paul CrouchThe charismatic Paul Crouch of TBN attempted to conceal the fact that he was gay by paying $425,000.00 to Laverne Ford who eventually exposed him.  Crouch also said, “I have come to the conviction that Martin Luther made a mistake, he should have never left the Catholic Church.  I am eradicating the word Protestant from my vocabulary.  I am not protesting anything.  It’s time for Catholics and Non-Catholics to come together as one in the spirit and one in the Lord.”  TBN is an apostate network that some of our men appear on for interviews.

Max Lucado

Max Lucado, the new darling of the North American Christian Convention, used to be a Church of Christ preacher.  In October, he changed the name of Oak Hills Church of Christ.  He dropped the “Church of Christ” name in an effort to reach people hesitant to attend a Church of Christ.  His Church jumped from 3,300 to 4,500 in 6 months.  At a Charismatic Promise Keepers rally he said, “It does not matter about your denomination, it’s all about God.”  Oak Hills has a booklet called, “

The Purpose of a Teaching Position

”.  It says,

“A teaching position serves to articulate the convictions of the Oak Hills leadership on a particular doctrine or practice.  This paper on the topic of baptism is useful for:

1.      

Those who have never been baptized.

 If you want to become a member of Oak Hills and have not been baptized, we ask you to do so.

2.      

Those who have been baptized

, but not by immersion.  We have many potential members who were baptized by sprinkling, usually as infants.  This paper will help you see why we baptize by immersion.  It also explains why we don’t baptize infants.  We urge you to read the paper and consider adult baptism.  If you choose not to be immersed at this time, we still welcome you as a member.  We ask only that you respect this position and not be divisive.  Members serving in instructional capacities (such as Bible class teachers, small group leaders, and ministry leaders, elders and staff ministers) need to be in agreement and compliance with the teaching position.

3.      

Those who have been baptized by immersion.

 It is our prayer that this study will give you new insights into the beauty, simplicity, and significance of this demonstration of devotion.

Open membership was the hottest debated issue in the Restoration Movement in the last century.  Today, the Brethren heading up our Colleges and conventions and camps have no conscience at all of bringing in apostates like Max Lucado, David Reagan and others of that persuasion.

Tony Compolo

They even bring in Tony Compolo, who even many denominational Churches will not use because of his stating that homosexuals were born that way.  He has socialist agendas.  He was brought to a heresy trial in 1985 for saying that Christ is in every human being. His wife promotes homosexual marriages.  He often uses vulgarisms in the pulpit to shock and shame his listeners.  His defense, “what’s worse, is that you’re more upset with the fact that I said [vulgarism] than the fact that 30,000 kids died last night!”  This was repeated at one of our schools.

John Hagee

John Hagee of TV fame believes that the spiritual gifts still continues today is getting a larger following.  He has raised thousands of dollars to move Jews to the Holy Land, uprooting Palestinian Christians in the process.  He believes Christians should have no duty to evangelize Jews since eventually.  “All Israel will be saved.”  He is a Christian Zionist.  He pals around with Benny Hinn and other Charismatic charlatans.  He is best known for his pushing of the Jewish agenda, thinking they have a spiritual relationship with God that will bring about their redemption without Christ but by living only in the light of the Torah.  He says,

“I’m not out to convert the Jewish people to the Christian faith.”  He adds, “In fact, trying to convert Jews is a waste of time.  The Jewish person who has his roots in Judaism is not going to convert to Christianity.  There is no form of Christian evangelism that has failed so miserably as evangelizing the Jewish people.  They (already) have a faith structure.  Everyone else, whether Buddhist or Baha’i, needs to believe in Jesus.  But not Jews.  Jews already have a covenant with God that has never been replaced by Christianity”.

Hagee is renown for taking on anti-Semetics but he is in reality, the true anti-Semetic for he will not evangelize the Jew and give them what they need for eternal salvation.

Rick Warren

Rich Warren, of “The Purpose Driven Church”, and “The Purpose Driven Life” fame has changed the Christian Churches and Churches of Christ more than any fad for the past century due to gullibility of our preachers.  He has been fellowshipping with John Templeton of the John Templeton Foundation.  Templeton awards a million dollars to different persons who further the cause of harmonizing world religions.  These have been awarded Agnostics, Pantheists, Hindu’s, Muslims, Buddhists, Jews as well as Billy Graham, Chuck Colson, Bill Bright, and Mother Teresa.

Is Rick after such?

Who knows?  Having sold millions of books, he certainly does not need the money.  He is now one of the judges for a written essay contest that Templeton is holding.  He will serve as judge in the contest with renowned left-wing radicals.

TV Attention Deficit DisorderPortland (Oregon) Life found that for every hour per day preschoolers watch TV, then chance of developing attention deficit disorders later in life has boosted 10%.  This is an alarming fact.  You need more than control.  Abstinence may be easier than temperance.

Billy GrahamRobert Schuller asked Billy Graham this question, “Tell me, what do you think is the future of Christianity?”

Graham’s reply was:

“Well, Christianity and being a true believer you know, I think there’s the Body of Christ.  This comes from all the Christian groups around the world.  Outside the Christian groups, I think everybody who knows Christ, whether they are conscious of it or not, they’re members of the Body of Christ.  I don’t think that we’re going to see a great sweeping revival that will turn the whole word to Christ at any time.  I think James answered that.  The Apostle James in the first council in Jerusalem, when he said that God’s purposes for this age is to call out a people for His name whether they come from the Muslim world, or the Buddhist world, or the Christian world, or the non-believing world, they are members of the Body of Christ, because they’ve been called by God.  They may not even know the name of Jesus, but they know in their hearts that they need something that they don’t have, and I think they turn to the only light they have, and I think that they are saved, and that they are going to be in heaven with us”  (Billy Graham, televised interview with Robert Schuller, May 13, 1997).

In response to Graham’s totally unscriptural statement, Schuller explained, “What, what I hear you saying is that it’s possible for Jesus Christ to come into human hearts and soul and life even if they’ve been born in darkness and never had an exposure to the Bible.  Is that a correct interpretation of what you are saying?”Graham answered, “Yes, it is because I believe that.  I’ve met people in various parts of the world in tribal situations, that they have never seen a Bible or heard about a Bible, and never heard of Jesus, but they’ve believed in their hearts that there was a God, and they’ve tried to live a life that was quite apart from the surrounding community in which they lived.”  This was 1997.  But even as far back as 1961 Graham said of infant baptism,

“ I have some difficulty in accepting the indiscriminate baptism of infants without a careful regard as to whether the parents have any intention of fulfilling the promise they make.  But I do believe that something happens at the baptism of an infant, particularly if the parents are Christians and teach their children Christian truths from childhood.  We cannot fully understand the miracles of God, but I believe that a miracle can happen in these children so that they are regenerated, that is, made Christians, through infant baptism.  If you want to call that baptismal regeneration, that’s all right with me.”  

(Lutheran Standard October 10

th

, 1961)

Graham has for years turned over the names of those who came forward at his rallies to the Churches from which they came.  In 1957 Graham said, “Anyone who makes a decision at our meetings is seen later and referred to local clergymen, Protestant, Catholic or Jewish.”  (San Francisco news)

Yet many of our top leaders in our own Churches appear with Graham and support his crusades...SHAME!

“KINSEY” Movie,

You need to know that Alfred Kinsey, the hero of the movie, was a pervert, pedophile, wife swapper, bi-sexual and the one who deceived America with his false

Kinsey Report

.  He is the one who made up the lie that 10% of Americans are homosexual.  He used for his own survey prison inmates and prostitutes.  He made his staff perform lewd sex acts on film.  He employed no trained statistician.  He himself should have been imprisoned as a pedophile.  The American Legislative Exchange Council (2400 State Legislators) recently concluded the

Kinsey Report

was “illegal and criminal acts masquerading as science.”  See proof of all this in a book by Judith Rusmar and another by Susan Brinkmann or contact the eagleforum.org website.

The above news information has been gleaned from

The Calvary Contender

,

The Sword of the Lord

,

O Timothy

,

Christian News

,

The Eagle Forum

, and

The Way of Life

magazines.  These groups do a great service in marking those who teach contrary to what the Christian has learned from the Holy Apostles.

[canumoveurseatup-no]

Coloring Book Adventures

Summary: As a way to stay abstinent, you color in coloring books to distract you when you feel sexual urges. That’s until your father’s gardener comes to play.

Pairing: Bucky x Black!Reader 18+

WC: 6.9K (i got sooo CARRIED AWAY I AM SORRY)

Warnings: PURE SMUT, innocence kink (is that a thing?), this might get nasty so watch out, loss of virginity, Daddy kink, mentions of extremely religious parents and religion in general, masturbation using a hair brush handle, unprotected sex (just use condoms guys, thanks)

A/N: If you like it all I ask is that you leave verbal feedback, thank yooou

You have always been sheltered. Your parents always wanted to hide the real world from you and fed you lies to scare you away from things so you didn’t do them. They’d tell you things like sex would kill you if you didn’t do it with the man you were married to, or your fingers would turn blue and fall off if you tried to please yourself. It sounded absurd but you believed it. You were homeschooled so you never got a real education or made real friendships. You didn’t know why they didn’t let you out like other kids but that’s how you grew up.

That’s how you got here, still in your pink and lilac room coloring in your coloring book while laying on your stomach. Your mother forced it upon you when you were 16. She told you to color in it whenever you felt those tingles in your private parts, that way you would keep your hands busy so you wouldn’t touch yourself. You got those tingles quite a bit, that’s why there were two stacks of coloring books in the corner of your room that you finished cover to cover. You rubbed your legs together as your colored and dropped your head a little against the book and sighed as the friction started to feel good. You were 20 and had no idea what you were doing but it felt really good. Your heart beat started to pound in your ears as you moved your hips back and forth, you started to feel an intense feeling and stopped yourself, heavily breathing in and out through your nose. You realized what you were doing and scolded yourself as you continued to color.

“Y/N!,” you heard your father’s voice on the other side of the door with a knock.

“Come in!,” You hummed. He came in and saw you coloring and shook his head, knowing what that meant. He hated seeing you coloring because that meant you were feeling “urges to sin”.

“Come downstairs. The gardener is coming today and I want you to meet him so you can tell him what you want in your corner of the garden,”

You squealed enthusiastically and hopped up out of bed. Long forgetting your urges. Your lilac dress bouncing with you and your dad told you to not do that around the gardener, “Yes, sir,” you nodded. He led you down stairs and brought you outside with your mother so you could decide and be dead set on what part of the garden you wanted. You chose the the corner in the far back that was hidden by a small wall of shrubs.

“Hellooo, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N? I’m Bucky the Gardener,” he called from the other side of the gate.

“Yes! Come on back, Bucky,” your mother’s sweet tone called back. She has been wanting this garden for years and was finally getting one. He came back and the tingles in your private area took you by storm but you couldn’t go color now, you had to talk to the gardener. His hair was half up and half down. His Henley had a few soil spots here and there and his jeans had a few holes on the calf part and green grass marks on the knees. His hands were dirty and you could tell he previously just came from another job.

“Sorry I’m late, I had to finish a job on the other side of town,” he apologizes and your parents wave him off telling him it’s okay.

“This is our daughter, Y/N. She will be here all day while we’re away at work. She’s quite shy and reclusive so if you don’t see her much that’s why. But she’ll guide you and tell you what she wants for her part of the garden,” your father greets you to Bucky himself and you bashfully smile. Bucky’s eyes linger on you and your body for a while but lucky for him your parents didn’t notice.

“We left the layout on the kitchen counter. We’ll be on our way. Y/N, be good and stay out of his way,” your father lightly warned. Bucky watched your doe eyes peer up at your dad and the way your bottom lip hung open as you nodded with a “Uh huh. Yes, sir,”

Oouuu. Bucky thought, the way that word seeped from your lips was sinful. There was nothing sexual about it, but coming from an innocent looking doll like you, he loved the way it sounded. Your parents led Bucky inside and kissed your cheek, before heading out for work and letting Bucky get started.

You stood there awkwardly and watched him look at the layout your parents had designed. You didn’t know what to say as you’d never really had any other human contact than with your parents or the lady at the grocery store down the road. You didn’t want to bother him but you didn’t want to hide away in your room either. He looked up at you and smiled before pointing at the layout, “What part will be your section?,”

You padded your feet over to him and simply pointed to the corner you wanted on the paper, “That one,” you stated. He hummed and nodded, eyeing you up and down again before smirking.

“What would you like in your section, baby doll?,”

Your eyes glistened at him and you smiled, “Petunias and peonies,” you smiled excitedly and started bouncing but catching yourself as you remember what your father said, Bucky caught sight of your jiggling bosoms anyway, “They’re the main flowers that I like to color in my coloring book,” you smiled sweetly and Bucky arched a brow.

“Coloring book? You like to color or something?”

You shrug and bite your lip innocently but Bucky’s thoughts went the opposite way, “My mother forced me to color when I was 16 so I would resist the urge to participate in the sinful acts of masturbating, and intercourse before marriage by keeping my hands busy,”

Bucky gave a small “huh,” in amusement. He knew this would come back to bite him in the ass but he knew soon you wouldn’t need that damn coloring book anymore.

———

Bucky had been around for two weeks and you were enjoying his company, thinking it was pure but his intentions were not. Though you enjoyed his company, you found your mind clouded with him and you having to color a lot more than usual. Every night before you showered your panties would glisten back up at you and you were confused as to why so much would be in there after a coloring session beforehand. You couldn’t talk to your parents about it because they would scold you for even thinking about those urges so much. So today, while you sat with Bucky in the garden as he worked and laid down the foundation for your mother’s section, you sat on the bench behind the shrubs in your corner and colored.

“I can’t tell my parents that I’ve been experiencing these urges a lot more than usual. They’ll be upset with me and say that I’m a child of pure sin,” You pouted as you colored a peony. Bucky raised up and sat back on his heels as he peered up at you. From his position he could see a sliver on your white panties that had cherries decorated all over them.

“You’re not a child of sin, Y/N and having urges won’t make God hate you. Touching yourself won’t make God hate you. Hell, Having premarital sex won’t make God hate you, baby doll. Didn’t you ever learn in church that God loves all? Even sinners?,”

You frowned at Bucky’s words, they went completely against what you’d been taught the past two decades of your life, “Even if that is true. My parents would disown me,” you sighed and continued coloring. Bucky crawled near you and took his gloves off. Your mother gifted him gloves so his hands wouldn’t get all dirty gardening as he’d have to touch things within the house. His clean hands rested on your knees as he spread them.

“Then they are not true followers of Christ,” he whispered, “Your parents should love you despite your urges or when you decide to act on them,” his hands ran up and down your thighs and they shook.

“Mr. Bucky, sir. What are you doing,” you tilted your head like a confused puppy. He took one of your hands in his and smiled, leading it to your panties.

“Slide your hand in your panties, I’ll show you that your fingers won’t fall off,” he chuckled a bit, remembering the absurd lie your parents force fed you.

“I will be damned by God! I can’t,”

Bucky shushed you and rubbed your cheek, “God never damned anyone, Y/N. Trust me,” he slid your skirt up and led your hand to the hem of your panties. His head and the actions you were participating in were shielded by the shrubs. You pushed your hand into your panties and felt how lubricated you were.

“It’s really slippery,” you muttered shyly.

“What were you thinking about to get yourself all slippery, baby?” His voice had dropped lower

“Y-you... b-but please don’t tell my mother and father,” you pleaded.

“This is our secret,” he smiled. He pulled your panties to the side and saw that you indeed were slippery and he cursed under his breath, “Here,” he led your fingertips to your clit and guided your hand to rub yourself. Your breath hitched and your hips jerked,

“W-woah,” you laughed in embarrassment, “What was that?,” you asked.

“Oh baby, that’s gonna be our best friend,”

————

Bucky told you to rub harder and you did, your thighs shaking and clenching and you bit your lip hard as you tried to stifle moans, “Mr. Bucky, w-what’s happening?,” your voice has gone shrill as the intense feeling from all those days ago came back.

“Just keep going, baby. It’s gonna feel reeeaaally good,” he encourages but you stopped. It was getting too much for you to handle, “I caaaannn’t” you whined.

He pulled your hand out of your underwear and sucked on your fingers, humming at the taste and closed his eyes, “It’s okay, baby. We’ll get you there,” you sat there and watch him suck on your fingers. The way his tongue swirled has you pushing them a little further in his mouth. He grabbed your wrist and pulled your fingers out, kissing your palm.

“We’ll take this slow like we’re coloring a picture. Start around the edges and work our way inward to make the whole picture,” he assures you and you leaned forward whispering.

“Please don’t tell my parents,” you pleaded. He smiled up at you and agreed.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,”

———

Every other day consisted of adding more color to create “the whole picture” as he put it. You were in your bed room and you were laying on your back with your legs spread open, your white knee highs complimenting your beautiful, brown skin. Bucky had told you to remove your panties and he laid in front of you on his stomach.

“I’m gonna use my mouth to touch you here, okay baby doll?,”

He could tell you were nervous, you kept checking the door but you knew there was no chance your parents would show up. Their jobs called for all their attention and time.

“Yes, Mr. Bucky,” you sighed. His hand had rubbed over your stomach to try and calm you. You rested your head back against your pillow and peaked down as him as he kissed your thighs.

“Daddy,” he corrected, “If you want this you’re going to be a good little girl and call me Daddy, okay?,”

His request was weird to you but you went along with it as you did want this and you wanted him to enjoy this as well.

His index finger rubbed up and down your slick entrance and he smiled, “What a gorgeous little pussy. To think you or anyone else has never played with it. God really blessed me to be the first,” he kissed your clit and you sighed. He nipped more around your thighs and trailed his hands up to your breasts, pushing your shirt and bra up as he toyed with your nipples. This stimulation was different than the one you had been getting down below but it felt good nonetheless. He raised up and and took a nipple on his mouth. You gasped and arched into him

“Oh Lord, please forgive me for I have sinned,” you whined.

“We’ll pray and repent afterwards, baby. Just focus on right now,” his teeth tugged on your nipples and you squeaked at the shocking sensation. He kissed his way back down to the place he called your pussy and licked you, causing you to tremble. He attached his lips to your button and started sucking, causing you to sit up in a flash, “Whoa! O-oh God,” you called out

Bucky internally laughed at your reactions and sucked harder. You placed your dominant hand on the back of his head and used the other to hold yourself up. The slurping and sucking sounds filled your room and you were consumed with feelings you knew weren’t right but you didn’t want to push him away.

“D-daddy?,” your chest was heaving and your eyes were rolling, “Daddy it’s happening a-again, I can’t take it,” but Bucky only sucked harder and you fell back on the bed moving your hips against his mouth, “P-please, I can’t take it,” you yelled and pushed his head away, your glaze covered his lips and caused his beard to shine and you felt your face heat up. He crawled over you like an animal and mashed his lips to yours. You had no idea what you were doing but tried to keep up. It was sloppy but Bucky thought it was cute so he went along with it. You tasted yourself on him and you surprisingly weren’t thrown off by the taste. Bucky pulled back and smiled down at you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and on those knees so we can pray,”

———

You watched Bucky as he worked hard in the garden and you colored on the patio. Your lip was being gnawed at by your teeth as you realized you needed more than coloring to satiate yourself. “Daddy,” you called out to him. He stood up from what he was doing and look at you, squinting due to the sun.

“Can we add more to our picture today?,”

He smiles at you and shakes his head, “Not today, baby doll. Your pops is already worried because I’m a little behind,” he dusted his gloves off by clapping them together.

“Hmmmmm,” you gave a high pitched whine and sat back in your chair with your arms folded, “But I’m getting slippery again,”

He darkly chuckles at you and shakes his head again, “We can add as much color to our picture tomorrow that you want. Just let Daddy finish and be a good girl and keep coloring,”

You reluctantly nodded and went back to coloring but you were so frustrated, that the pencil point kept breaking. You groaned and slammed the pencil down on the patio table gaining Bucky’s attention, “What did I say, Y/N? Be a good girl and keep coloring,” he scolded.

“But I don’t wanna color these stupid pictures!,” you huffed and he furrowed his eyes at you before storming over and grabbing your cheeks in a bruising grip.

“O-ow!,” your voice octaves higher from the pain and your eyes started to water.

“Shut up before I really give you something to cry for,” he growled. Your breath hitches and you tried your best to keep your bottom lip from quivering. You didn’t like for him to be upset with you. He was your first friend, your first sexual experience, your first everything thus far other than him taking your virginity. So beyond all of that, you valued his presence and his attitude towards you, so him being stern with you stirred a feeling inside your body that had you tingling but scared at the same time.

“I literally just told you that we can spend all the time tomorrow coloring our picture. You don’t want your mom and pops finding out you’ve been sinning, right babydoll?,”

“R-right, Daddy,” you nodded in his tight grip. He kissed your nose and whispered to you to calm you down.

“Okay then. Be a good girl and be patient. I’ve got to get caught up or else your parents will start suspecting something and we don’t want that. You want to keep me around so I can make those tingles and urges go away right?,” he was speaking to you so sweetly you couldn’t help but agree. He let go of your face and kissed your cheeks where he had just been grabbing. He took your colored pencil and sharpened it for you and placing it back in your hand.

“Now, color me a pretty little picture and Daddy can show you some new things about your pussy tomorrow, how’s that sound?,” his smile was intoxicating. You were like a little kid in a candy store as you excitedly bounced in your chair. “Yes, please!,” your smile practically beamed at him. He kissed your temple and straightened himself up before putting his gloves on,

“Good girl,”

————

All night you were vibrating with excitement. You couldn’t wait for your new adventures with Bucky. He liked to call them your coloring book adventures. You were so happy someone was finally teaching you about your body and helping you understand these urges and with Bucky here, he helped you learn more about God that your parents purposely left out so you avoided certain things all together.

Your parents were impressed with how much Bucky could get done in one day. He still had a while to go as the lay out was intricate but they were so happy that their vision was coming to life. Your father had left for work again and you handed him his coffee while kissing his cheek goodbye. You handed your mother her daily breakfast croissant and her earl grey tea as she rushed out the door, leaving just you and Bucky. He advised you give him a good hour to do work around the the garden and to make sure your parents were long gone. They worked an hour and a half away from the home so he just wanted to make sure they wouldn’t come back in the means that they possibly forgot something with the end result of catching you two.

The hour ticked by slowly but you waited in your bedroom on your bed. Legs spread under your yellow pleated skirt, you took your panties off which left your smooth, wet pussy. You wore your white ankle ruffle socks and a long sleeved white shirt, you were ready for him to show you new things about your private parts that no one else would teach you. You were so caught in daydreaming about what he could possibly have left to show you, that you didn’t hear him come in, “Baby doll,” he snapped his fingers.

He finally got your attention and looked around the room, “Do you own a hair brush?,” you hummed in confirmation and pointed to your dresser. There was a pretty, pink hair brush with a handle that was perfect for his plans. He cleaned out the hair brushed and when into the bathroom. You heard the water running and frowned in confusion about what he was doing. He back back in the room with the handle of the brush wet and clean and slipped off his boots and jeans, “Sit up for me, baby,” you sat you and he climbed in behind you. He pulled you to sit back and you molded yourself into him. Like a perfect puzzle piece, like the perfect color that was missing from a picture in one of your books.

“You know how Daddy has been making you feel good with his mouth since we started?,” his breath fanned across your ear and sent chills down your body. You hummed and he continued, “Well today Daddy is gonna show you how good it feels to have something inside that little princess pussy,” he spread your legs and hiked your skirt up. He spread your lips and felt your slick on his fingertips. He groaned in your ear when he felt how wet you’ve become. He starts rubbing your clit and you tense against him, “O-oh Daddy,”

His chin rested on your left shoulder as he used his right arm to play with your little bundle of nerves. He rubbed faster and you dug your nails into his thighs, moving back and forth against his finger, “Daddy is gonna slide a finger in now,” once he feels how much wetter you got, he pushed his middle finger in, thrusting and swirling the finger in you, “Oh my goodness,” you huffed. He worked you for a few minutes before pushing his ring finger in, knowing that you were aroused enough for your pussy to finally expand to take more than one finger. He moved both fingers in and out of you and your head fell back against his right shoulder, “So... good!,” something as simple as fingers had your mind swirling in euphoria. His left hand was splayed out on your thigh as his other worked in and out of you. He curled his fingers up and you let out a moan that was music to his ears. The way it was pitched and dragged out had him hardened against your back.

“Mm, there we go. Found that special spot. See, Daddy told you he would teach some new things about your pussy. I bet you didn’t know that special spot was in there did you?,” he chuckled in your ear as your head was rested against him, “N-No, no I didn’t know,” you called out. You were panting and moving your hips but Bucky removed his fingers and you whimpered. He sucked on his fingers and savored the taste like your juices was his favorite wine. He grabbed the brush and put the bristled part in your hand before placing his hand on top of yours, “What- what are we about to do, Daddy?” Your voice was strained and tired but he kept going, “Daddy is gonna show how to please yourself in another way,” he states. The tip of the handle pushed against your entrance and with the way you were beyond well lubricated, you were ready to take it. He pushed it in to the hilt of the brush and you stifled a groan at the feeling of something being in you this far. The feeling was foreign but it was amazing.

“It’s so much deeper than your fingers, Daddy!,” you called out as he started moving your hand back and forth, “I know baby, I know,” he shushed you, “But I want you to relax and fuck yourself for me, can you be a good girl and do that?,” you feverishly nodded your head as he guided your hand to move the brush in and out of you, setting the tempo before taking his hand off of yours to leave you to fend for yourself. With one hand braced against his thigh, you used your dominant hand to push the brush handle in and out of you. “Uh huh! Uh huh, yes yes Oh my-,” you stared wide eyes at the handle as you saw your slick covering the brush handle, Bucky smiled as he watched you, “There’s so much, Daddy. Why is there so much?,” you breathed heaving

“Because your pussy likes it, baby. The more you like it, the more your pussy makes these sweet little juices. It’s okay, it’s normal. Whenever you think of Daddy and have those urges and rub your legs together and find this in your panties, it’s because your pussy is hungry for attention,” he was kissing along your neck and pulled your shirt up to pay attention to your nipples. You both have come to find out that you get a rise out of nipple stimulation. He tugged and twisted them causing you to dig your heels into the mattress. “It’s happening again, Daddy!,”

He thought it was cute that you couldn’t get yourself to cum, you always stopped yourself before you got there. He couldn’t wait until he was buried inside you and you’d have no choice but to cum. “See if you can push yourself further than usual, baby doll,” he was grinding himself against your ass and was getting himself off by your moans and whimpers. “I bet you’re so tight and warm, fuck,” he muttered. He held your hips and bucked his against you while you continued to fuck yourself. “I-I can’t!,” you huffed and removed the brush from you.

“Suck it, Y/N,” his voice was strained and you were confused about what he was doing behind you. “It’s not nasty to do that?” You question. “No baby, it’ll be good. Trust daddy and suck yourself off your brush,” Bucky’s breathing became labored as he watched you push the handle in your mouth and your lips wrapped around it. You turned your head to make eye contact with him as you twirled the brush handle in your mouth. Pulling it out with a pop, “That wasn’t bad, b-but what are you doing?,” your breathing was still slowing down and your eyes were still glazed over from pleasure.

“Daddy is just trying to make himself feel good like you were doing,” he tossed his head back and let out a loud grunt, “Fuck!,” he clenched his jaw and growled. You moved away and turned to him on your knees, pulling his underwear down, “Let me help you like you help me. Just tell me what I have to do,” you bit your bottom lip and looked at him hopefully.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that, baby doll,” he was still thrusting in the air and you grabbed his cock in your hands, it was warm to the touch and throbbing in your hand, “you said we can add as much color to our picture as I want today. I wanna help like you help me, pleeeaaase,” you tightened your grip and Bucky practically whined. “Fine! Fine,” he gasped. “You know how you had that brush handle in your mouth? Take daddy in your mouth just like that. Be careful though baby, don’t use any teeth,” his chest was quickly rising and falling as he positioned you on your stomach and you were eye level with his big cock.

“This is a cock, baby,” he takes himself in his hand and slaps it on your face making you giggle, “Even better, it’s your cock baby. You can get it whenever you want. And when we finish filling in the spaces, this will be a part of the big pretty picture,” he bit his lip and grunted, just imagining you shaking and whimpering under him, “Now show Daddy how well you can suck it. Suck it like your favorite ice pop,” that got you excited. You loved your ice pops! Especially the cherry one and his red tip resembled one so well. You leaned his cock toward you and wrapped your lips around the head, making him his and grip the sheets, “Did I do something wrong?,” you bashfully question.

“No baby, you’re doing everything just right thus far,” he urged you to get back to work and your took him back in your mouth. As you sucked you watched his reactions and gauged what you were doing right. You started bobbing your head and Bucky’s mouth dropped open, “Aw God!,” he tried not to buck his hips up but he did anyway causing you to gag which in turn made him whimper. “Baby, I’m gonna need you to go down further. Daddy is almost there!,” he begged.

He held your head and guided himself in your warm, slippery mouth and you hollowed your cheeks, loving the feeling of him in your mouth he was so thick and veiny. You closed your eyes and moved your tongue side to side as he held your head down, “Breathe through your nose,” Bucky’s tone was strangled as he was about to cum. You did as he said and it helped a little with the gagging. “Such” thrust “a good” thrust “fucking” thrust “girl!!,”

Bucky came down your throat and you panicked a little, coughing around him causing some of his cum to come out your nose. It was so much! So much. You raised up off of him trying to catch your breath. You had spit and cum running down your chin and cum running down on your top lip. Your eyes watered as a hot wave of embarrassment ran down your body.

“Don’t cry, baby! You did so good, so good,” he sighed.

“You promise,” you held out your pinky and he wrapped his around yours and he kissed your lips despite his cum, “Yes, baby. I promise. You looked so fucking cute choking on Daddy like that. Never had my cum come out of a girls nose like that. It made Daddy’s high so much better,” he assured you.

He kissed your forehead and smiled at you, “Let’s get you cleaned up and you can sit in the garden and watch me work, hows that sound?,” with your tear, cum and spit stricken face, you smiled and nodded. Bucky loved every second of it.

————

The next day Bucky told your father that he’d be working on your corner next and would spend most of the day getting his measurements correct for the bed so he could lay down the petunias and peonies and have them grow efficiently. Your parents loved his work ethic and how he communicated so well with them about what he was working on. They knew for sure they’d be paying him extra for his excellent work but what they didn’t know was that they already did. With you.

Once they left for work, you sat on a bench in your corner coloring with your book on the little table as Bucky scanned around the garden, making sure he was organized before he started in your corner. He had been working hard for a few hours before taking his gloves off and taking a break. He took his shirt off and you started at him, still coloring, but outside the lines.

“You’re outside the lines, baby doll,” he pointed out to you. You looked down and slammed your fists on the table, “Oh shoot!,” he sat beside you and looked at the picture, “You got distracted. Sorry,” he whispered as you felt his hand on your thigh. Today, you wore a red pleated skirt and pink ruffle socks with your white low top Keds and a white, short sleeve button down blouse. His fingers slipped in your panties and felt how you were slick with arousal once again.

“Keep coloring, Y/N,” he deadpanned, “I’m gonna teach you not to get distracted. So keep coloring and we fill in another section of our picture before we get to the last part to make the big, pretty picture, yeah? You want to make the bigger picture, don’t you?” He nuzzles his nose against your cheek, your curl tickling the tip of his nose as you had your hair up in your twin puffs and left two curly pieces down by your ears.

“Y-Yes, Daddy,” you trembled. He cupped your pussy with a firm grip and growled in your ear, a gasp got stuck in your throat and your eyes remained on the picture of a half colored petunia. “Then be the good girl I know you can be and keep fucking coloring,”

Your hand started moving the colored pencil across the paper and your other hand braced the book and yourself against the table. His fingers spread your arousal over your clit and you bit your lip as you tried to keep coloring but you slowed down. He spread your legs wide and slapped your pussy causing you to yelp in short pain. “I said,” he gripped one of your puffs and pulled your head back, “Keep. Fucking. Coloring... you have been doing well these past few weeks. Don’t start disappointing me,”

You didn’t want to disappoint him, so you muttered an okay before going back to color. You picked up a green colored pencil and your hands shook as he pushed two fingers inside you. Your jaw dropped but you willed yourself to start coloring the leaves on the page, “Stay inside the lines,” he demanded. You softly nodded your head and whimpered. Trying to focus on coloring. You just had to will yourself to treat it like it was one of your urges, just focus. But you were way past that. It would never be liked again. He went faster which causes you to breath and color just as fast, “I don’t wanna disappoint you, Daddy. But I can’t focus,” your hand trembled as you tried to keep on coloring. He removed his fingers from you and held them to your lips, “Open and suck. Lick yourself off Daddy’s fingers,” you did as he said and hummed, as you were used to the taste of yourself now.

“That was all you get for a while. I want you boiling over like a pot of water on a stove. I want you getting ready to explode before you beg for me,” his whispered in your ear before getting up to get back to work, leaving you staring at his back.

-------

You had been tense for two weeks as Bucky had been denying you any form of contact. You felt yourself ready to explode and your parents noticed a change in your demeanor, “Y/N, what has been going on with you lately? You haven’t been talking and you’ve always seem zoned out,” You mother asks before heading out to work. Your father had already left and Bucky was standing by the kitchen island drinking a cup of orange juice, smirking over the rim.

“Nothing, mother. I just think I won’t be needed coloring books anymore. I’ve been praying really hard and the urges have passed,” you lied through your teeth. You never lied to your parents, but ever since Bucky has been around, you made a whole 180 change. 

She smiled at you and seemed overly proud, “That is good to hear. Remember, stay out of Bucky’s way, okay?,” she kissed your forehead and left in a hurry, leaving you and Bucky alone yet again. You could feel his eyes on you and they were burning holes into your body. 

“Come spend the day with me, babydoll. I’m almost finished your section and I want you to see it. You’ve been hiding,” his voice taunted you but you agreed. He grabbed your hand and it almost felt as if your arm was on fire as this was the first bit of contact you’ve had with him in weeks. He takes you outside and you gasp as the bed of petunias lying beautifully in the fresh soil.

“Haven’t gotten around to the peonies yet, but it’s all coming along great,”

“It’s amazing! Oh my goodness, Daddy!!!,” you jumped in excitement and ran over to the bench to just sit and adore the light purple petunias. The cement blocks surrounding and hold the bed up were a cute light pink and you just sat and stared at it, loving every bit. He even changed the shrubs and they were now berry bushes.

“I’m glad you like it,” he sat beside you and rested a hand on your thigh. You sighed in content and stared up at him. He stared back and you both wore smiles that soon faded as you climbed into his lap to straddle him.

“I want to complete the full picture,” you mutter. He smiles at you and attaches his lips to yours and with the practice over the past few weeks you were able to keep up. He lifted your skirt up and pulled your panties down, in a rush, he pulled his down as well, his cock standing at full attention and you were practically dripping. He trailed kisses down your neck but made sure not to leave any marks, there would be a time in the future for that. 

He used one hand to keep you up right in his lap and the other to start teasing your clit. You dropped your head down on his shoulder and moaned as you rolled your hips into his hand, “Please, Daddy. I want the bigger picture,”

“I’m just trying to get you ready for me so it doesn’t hurt, baby. Daddy isn’t like your brush handle or his fingers. He’s a lot bigger,” He pulled your tank top and sports bra down, sucking on your nipples as he plunged to thick fingers in you. You bite down on his shoulder and your eyes roll back in your head.

“You’ve been so patient. You’ve been praying for Daddy to finally give it to you haven’t you?,” 

“Uh huh,” you barely nod as your thighs starts to shake, “Daddy, please I’m ready, I wanna feel you. I wanna finish the picture!,” you begged.

Bucky had stood up and placed you on your back on the cushioned bench and had one knee on the bench while the other was planted on the ground to give him balance. He tapped his cock against your clit and you whined, pleaded yet again. He ran the length of his cock against your wet pussy and you were jerking your hips up. He took himself in his hand before aligning it with your entrance. 

“Lord, forgive me,” He muttered. He knew he was about to ruin you. But it was okay because you wouldn’t want anyone else and neither would he. He was made for you and you were made for him.

He slowly pushed himself in and had one hand bracing himself against the back of the bench as he guided himself into you with the other. You held your breath as it was uncomfortable to have something so big in you like this, “Breathe, baby,” he instructed. You let out a breath and the discomfort started to subside. “O-oh” you gasp once he’s filled you to the hilt. 

He completely withdrew himself before pushing back in, you held onto his arms as you stared back up at him, “You’re so big,” you whine, “But it feels so good,” 

Bucky started with a slow pace and your juices flowed around him. You were just as tight, it not tighter, and and warm as he imagined you to be. And your wetness, he’s lever felt a pussy this wet, it felt like his cock was swimming, “You feel so good, wrapped around me, babydoll,” he grunted. He held your hips in one hand and started moving faster, causing your breasts to move right with your body. He leaned down and kissed you, biting your lips and swirling his tongue with yours. 

“Such a dirty girl, losing her innocence in her parent’s garden. How does it feel Y/N?,” he hissed as you clenched around him, “How does it feel to sin? To defy your parents?,”

“It feels so good!,” you cried out with so much conviction, “I want more, please, can I have more?,” You eyes were screwed shit and your mouth hung open.

He started to circle your clit with his thumb as he fucked your harder now that you were accommodated to his size. “Is it too much for you yet? Too much for that little pussy?,” he flicked your clit fasted as his head hung in the crook of your neck 

“A-a a little b-bit!,” you heaved. “Good,” Bucky growled. He was coming close to climax and he could tell you were too by the way you were writhing beneath him.

“It’s happening!,” You warned, “D-daddy I don’t think I can take it,” You shielded your face with your arm and groaned, He removed your arm and made you look him directly in the eyes, “You said you wanted to complete the picture, right? Well that’s what we’re gonna do, and you’re gonna cum for me to make it all pretty,” he fucked you faster and your legs wrapped around his waist and you started to fuck him back. He was lucky your house was isolated from other houses or your cries and moans would seem concerning.

“D-daddy, Oh my- GOD!,” the way his cock nudged your special spot and he was rubbing your clit had you leaking cum around him. Your eyes rolled far back in your head and your back arched off the bench and that triggered his own. He was done for, he pulled out and came all over your pubic mound. You were gasping for air and your legs were sore and felt like jelly. You watched as he huffed and held himself up on the back of the bench. He smiled down at you and winked.

“I think I like that picture more than any of the ones I’ve colored. Can we make more?,”

------

LORD PLEASE FORGIVE ME OMFG!

I hope y’all enjoyed this, if you like it, please let me know what you think!

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