#what we wear 2 church

[coffinbutch]

I'm being approached by Christians on the street more frequently lately.... what's up with that

[conflictofthemind]

Take Me To Church-Gate

A few weeks back, I received a tip that Noah and Finn came into Atlanta for a couple of days to rehearse a scene alone together that never ended up being filmed. This was around the time of the convention that Finn ended up missing in early June (and we initially theorized was for the playground scenes).

I since received confirmation of not only this, but that the rehearsal in question was for a scene at the UD church set. The filming never went through because Noah got an eye infection / sty, so the shoot was rescheduled for early August. If you've seen me mentioning looking forward to August, this is what that was about.

The Eye Infection:

Let me link this post to begin with, barring the 'James' stuff who has proven to be false. I heard about the eye infection and my alarm bells rang immediately - I have a friend myself who wears contacts occasionally and whenever they get sties, they're always caused by the contacts. When has Noah worn contacts before in the show? When Will is being possessed by the mindflayer in Season 2.

The church is an interesting location, because it most definitely has to do with Henry as well. When the original countdown for TFS was being posted, there were images of a church - a location that may have been changed during development. The characters most likely go there as part of the continuing Henry investigation.

And we know Henry was exorcised at some point, but it failed. The sign going into the church is also a likely clue to this, referencing Mark 9:29 - a verse about a failed exorcism.

Conclusion for this part: Will very likely becomes possessed again while in this church. My source tells me they usually only do big rehearsals like this for scenes involving action, too.

My opinion is that Will was never fully exorcised either. I mean, he still has a clear connection to the mindflayer with all the tingles on his neck and the possible literal psychic connection he has to Vecna as well.

It's Byler, Too:

I suspect that Jamie has some part in the scene as well (given they scheduled it during his latest block on set), but the focus is on Will and Mike - being the only two other main characters on set at the time, and the only two rehearsing.

But going back to the church thing.... I wonder what kind of symbolism is created by bringing two gay characters who both have a lot of internalized shame into a location that is honestly the source of said shame? It's honestly not even symbolism. It might just be referenced in plain text. Looking back at that church sign:

"This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer"

"This kind" really evokes the dehumanising language used by homophobes to refer to gay people. And the driven out by prayer part, well that really evokes conversion 'therapy' practices of praying the gay away. So what if this is where Will and Mike finally admit their love for each other, and kiss. And what if that is actually what's able to drive the 'demon' away - gay love.

Especially during the Satanic Panic arc we are sure to see come full circle with the reckoning of the Hellfire Club in Season 5.

An arc which Mike is surely at the centre of as well, being not only a Hellfire Member in the past, but being family to the new disappeared child in town.

And it's not like Mike's love is what's been shown to us time and time again as the way to break Will out of his mindflayer trance. Oh, wait.

Consider it incredibly fanfic-y, but it's on the table now. An action scene at the church involving Byler where Noah is wearing contacts - Will becoming possessed just like Henry again and being made to fight Mike as not only part of the plan to get all of the Wheelers, but also as something that would break Will's spirit permanently. They're all alone with nobody to help save Mike. But the plan is thwarted through the power of love, and in a place that represents a lot of shame for gay men (especially in the 80s) - they finally come together. And it is love that frees Will from his trance. Whether through a confession or true love's kiss. It would be so dramatic and atmospheric.

Additional evidence:

Jopper's Season 4 reunion and kiss inside the Russian church, of which this would be a parallel.

The whole idea of "we kissed, as though nothing could fall. And the shame was on the other side" from David Bowie's Heroes - the shame being in the actual church from the rightside up, but they're alone together on the other side / in the Upside Down.

It is also very likely that this scene is from Episode 5 or 6. I've asked and nobody seems to know which episode it is from, but following the logic of Episode 4 being when the characters enter in groups into the Upside Down, and here Byler are all alone, it is definitely after some time has passed and groups have split further. They're definitely not having any kind of confession in the first half of the season, so this timing sounds positive.

Multiple rehearsals. Noah contacting his acting coach recently for advice. Them even having to cancel an entire shoot because of a sty indicates close-up shots for sure.

Anyway. I'd really love to see people's thoughts on this. I feel like there's even more I could get into in follow-up posts, especially if other people chime in with their thoughts. I have been buzzing about this scene for weeks now. I want to start another gate for old time's sake, so please use #churchgate if you want to make your own posts about this!

[nihilityuniverse]

𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...

ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost

Story also available on WattPad: Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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Chapter 0 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

𝐀 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐨

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Eight members of the Harbingers had gathered in the palace-like church. Inside, the air was so frigid that the nation's flags began to freeze, crackling under the intense cold. No candles lit the space; only the ethereal glow of the polar lights streaming through the stained-glass windows provided illumination.

A petite woman with long hair, her eyes concealed behind a delicate white lace mask, hums a familiar lullaby from her deceased friend as she leans against a casket. Her voice echoes softly in the frozen stillness.

The eight other Harbingers watched her from a distance, each wearing a similar coat of identical design. By order of Her Royal Highness Tsaritsa, all Harbingers were required to attend the funeral, even the elusive 0th Harbinger.

The 0th Harbinger, code name: Innamorati — The Lovers;

A figure shrouded in mystery and danger, Innamorati remained an enigma even to her fellow Harbingers.

Known only by whispers and rumors, she was a being crafted by the Cryo Archon herself, a weapon designed to challenge the Celestial Gods. Hidden away for years, her existence was the subject of much speculation.

Some Harbingers were indifferent, focusing solely on the success of their plans, while others were intensely curious. Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, claimed to know nothing about her, adding to her mystique.

Rumors abounded: some said Innamorati would annihilate anyone who crossed her path; others believed she had perished decades ago, her legend merely a shadow from the past.

What they all knew for certain was that Innamorati had a notorious reputation for forgetting critical missions assigned by Tsaritsa herself. This unreliability made her both feared and ridiculed within their ranks.

"We are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade," an old dwarf with a long nose and mustache solemnly broke the deafening silence. "In honor of her sacrifice, all work shall halt for half a day as the nation mourns her passing."

"Hehe, merely half a day...?" Pantalone laughed coldly, crossing his hands in front of his chest with a mocking smile. "People say the Northland Bank's true currencies are blood and tears... But mayor, even speaking as a banker, that sounds a little unconscionable."

"Rosalyne died in a foreign land," Arlecchino stepped forward, her crimson red X-cross pupils glowing dangerously bright with annoyance. "But you heartless businessmen and dignitaries always find a convenient excuse to remain in the comfort of your homeland..." She frowned. "You couldn't hope to understand, so why don't you keep your mouth shut?! We don't want to make the children cry."

"Hey, c'mon now, even I don't think this is the right time or place for a fight," Childe chipped in, lazily sitting on one of the wooden benches.

"Utterly risible!" Sandrone mocked, and the machine behind her emitted an audible angry sound.

"Though her methods tarnished her honor, Lohefalter's sacrifice is a great pity. Her loss shall not hinder our progress," Capitano's deep voice resonated through the entire palace, catching everyone's attention.

He turned towards the Doctor, his face hidden behind a dark veil. "But Dottore... What of Scaramouche and the Gnosis from Inazuma?"

Dottore smiled, twirling a tube filled with blue liquid between his fingers. "Conventional wisdom holds that Divine Knowledge cannot be rationally comprehended. After conquering the Divine Gaze, he will make his next move."

The heavy, frozen church door creaked open, allowing the bitter winter air to sweep inside. Everyone turned their gaze towards it, even Columbina, who had paused her humming. 

A woman, clad in a coat of the same design as theirs, stepped into the church, holding a red paper umbrella. The door closed behind her with a resounding bang. The click of her heels on the marble floor echoed through the hall, a stark contrast to the silence that had filled the room.

Her face remained obscured by shadows, yet every person in the room knew instinctively that she was not someone to be trifled with. 

The sense of her power and presence was palpable, a mutual understanding among them all. To cross her would be to invite disaster.

This was Innamorati, the 0th Harbinger, a figure shrouded in mystery and danger, whose very presence commanded respect and fear.

As she advanced, the air seemed to grow even colder, the weight of her presence adding to the already frigid atmosphere. Each step she took resonated with authority, and the silence in the room deepened, a silent acknowledgment of her status among them.

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Finally, you found your way to the place where the funeral was to be held. You hadn't thought you would make it in time, given the ferocity of the snowstorm that had nearly obscured your path and made the journey treacherous.

Your heels clicked sharply with each step as you approached the group of people gathered at the center, where the casket lay. You set your red paper umbrella on one of the wooden benches, the action deliberate and unhurried. 

As the shadow over your face disappeared, the polar light from the stained-glass windows illuminated your features.

With the shadow gone, the collective breath of the eight Harbingers halted involuntarily.

Your beauty was striking: peach-colored, plump lips; long, dark eyelashes framing eyes that seemed to hold the very essence of winter. Your skin was pale and flawless, with a cold radiance that mirrored the icy surroundings. Your presence was both ethereal and commanding, a juxtaposition of delicate grace and chilling power.

You stopped a few steps before the group of Harbingers—your comrades—and looked up at them. 

"0th Harbinger, Innamorati... That is what they call me. You may call me whatever you wish," you introduced yourself, your voice ethereal and soft, yet so cold and lifeless it sent shivers down their spines. "This must be the first time we meet."

"You are quite late, Lord Innamorati," Pulcinella, the old dwarf, addressed you with a mix of respect and caution.

After all, The top-ranked Harbingers, from rank 1 to No. 3, possess powers that can rival the gods. So what about No. 0? Could she surpass the powers of the gods? Or even be greater?

You let out an annoyed sigh. "All the snow-covered streets look the same, and the blizzard did not make navigating to this gathering any easier."

Pantalone chuckled, turning towards you with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"If I had known, I would have taken you with me in my carriage, Lady Innamorati. Alas, I am left to wonder why there were no escorts ready for you. I thought I had ordered the highest-ranked Skirmishers for your protection." His voice was dangerously smooth, laden with speculation, hinting at the rumors of you annihilating anyone who crossed your path.

Before you could respond, Childe interjected from the side. "Huh? The oh-so-feared Innamorati getting lost in a mere snowstorm? This is truly a sight to behold." His tone dripped with mockery. 

"Were you also getting lost on the way to your missions?" His voice carried an angry undertone, bitterness seeping through his words. 

He had often been the one to hurriedly take on your missions at the last minute, running from one nation to another like a lackey. The mission to obtain the Geo Archon's Gnosis had been assigned to you, not him, nor the now-deceased Signora. In the end, he had faced severe repercussions after the Northland Bank had to pay heavy reparations.

If gazes could kill, Childe would have been long dead under Pantalone's icy stare. Though his slight smile remained, his eyes closed behind his glasses, he radiated a murderous aura. He longed to hear your voice again and to capture your attention. Such a rare opportunity shouldn't be wasted.

"Insolent child! How dare you—!" Sandrone hissed at Childe, her anger palpable. She, too, feared inciting your wrath. If Childe weren't a fellow Harbinger, Sandrone would have killed him long ago for destroying her ruin guard factory.

"It's time to end tonight's foolish theatrics." 

A deep, husky voice resonated through the church, cutting through the cold silence like a blade.

The man stepped forward from the shadows, his right side concealed by a dark mask. It was Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, and his presence commanded instant respect.

His voice, cold and demanding, echoed with authority as he advanced towards the casket.

"Right now, you have no captive audience," he said, his gaze sweeping over the assembled Harbingers and guests, silently commanding them to gather and pay heed.

You stood on the opposite side of Pierro, your own presence a stark contrast to his imposing figure.

"Let every worthy sacrifice be carved in ice, and let this nation endure for all time," Pierro intoned, his voice carrying the weight of solemn duty.

The assembly lowered their heads in reverence, eyes closing as he delivered the farewell speech. Your hand drifted absently towards your Divine Key, a subconscious gesture.

"In the name of Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa," Pierro continued, his voice imbued with a steely resolve, "we will seize authority from the gods."

After several minutes of mournful meditation, Pierro broke the silence and left the building, his movements purposeful and commanding.

The others followed in silent procession, a testament to their respect and shared grief. You took your red paper umbrella, closing your eyes briefly before stepping into the freezing, snow-covered landscape.

"Absolute peace."

As you all departed, the church behind you began to freeze over, layers of crystal ice encasing it under the unyielding winter sky, which shimmered with the ethereal glow of the aurora.

"Such is the gift from the Tsaritsa, such is Her Majesty's benevolence," Pierro declared, his voice carrying a chilling reverence as he halted and gazed up at the celestial lights.

"Now you rest in this coffin, encased in layer upon layer of ice. But, Rosalyne, I promise you..."

"Your final resting place will be the entirety of the Old World," Pierro's voice echoed through the night sky, his farewell imbued with a cold resolve that matched the frozen land around you.

As you watched the polar light dancing across the vast darkness of the sky, a thought surfaced in your mind. You had never known this person, but you had made a promise to someone...

You halted in your steps and glanced back at the frozen church.

Some tasks have to be done, even if they seem pointless.

Amidst the snow, you caught a glimpse of shadowy hands emerging from the icy landscape, reaching out towards the sky one by one, as if seeking transcendence. As you blinked, everything returned to normal.

"Another Memory..."

"Lady Innamorati, is something the matter?" Pierro's voice broke through your reverie as he noticed you staring back at the frozen church.

"...meaningless," you whispered to yourself, yet the faint wind carried your words to Pierro. 

"Pardon?" Pierro asked again, this time capturing the attention of some of the other Harbingers, especially Dottore. The Doctor, ever curious, considered whether you might make an intriguing subject for his experiments.

"It's nothing. Continue without me. I wish to be alone," you ordered, your voice light as silk yet cold as ice. Pierro nodded, casting one last glance at you before leaving. 

Dottore lingered a moment longer, watching you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. As he did, the falling snow seemed to halt and move backward, defying the natural order.

"Existence is fleeting as the dawn's dew," your voice echoed in a dimension separate from the real world, where time had ceased.

Dottore's breath caught as he watched you, disbelief etched across his features. His analytical mind struggled to comprehend the anomaly unfolding before him.

"Yet, I guide the wandering souls on the still waters of oblivion..."

The dimension around you cracked like glass, shattering as you began to walk towards the church.

"...and weep for the departed."

A powerful gust of wind struck Dottore, and in that moment, he perceived everything yet nothing. The world seemed meaningless and empty. He felt his body ascending, his soul slipping away...

"Don't look back..." Your ethereal voice called to him, a beacon of light in the encroaching darkness.

He felt a pull from behind, "Move forward," you whispered. In the next instant, he stood where Pierro had asked if you were alright moments before.

Dottore's breath hitched, his cold heart pounding faster than ever. This was neither a dream nor an illusion. He knew this with certainty. What had just happened? The question echoed in his mind, a mystery as deep as the winter night itself.

One thing was certain: he had unmistakably felt the presence of the Almighty One—the Divine Creator.

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Reblog if you like this story

[brawlingdiscontent]

I’ve been thinking more about Lestat’s wedding ring, which we see him wearing publicly during the trial, and later on tour—but not elsewhere, including alone in his vampire hovel. It seems that he’s not wearing the ring for himself. My sense is that Lestat thinks of marriage as a human construct (along with his general disdain for many human institutions like religion), and that he considers his and Louis’ companionship (their “transcendent love between two vampires of the same sex”) to be far above the limitations of human definitions, and so doesn’t feel the need to tokenize it accordingly. But we do see him mobilize marriage and the wedding ring strategically for two audiences: humans and Louis. 

As the trial makes clear, Lestat is very conscious of the implications of his ‘wedding’ to Louis on the night of Louis’ turning when he speaks of offering himself, “in the church, on the altar.” But never does he use the term ‘marriage’ to describe what they have - it’s always ‘companionship’ or ‘union.’ 

At the moment of Louis’ turning, I think the marriage parallels are about making clear to the then-human Louis that what he is offering is akin to (better than) human marriage, and also that he takes not-so-secret delight in profaning the rites of Christianity through their bloody same-sex union (just like he gleefully destroys the wooden figure of crucified Jesus). 

During the trial, besides the marriage analogy being a tool to win over the human audience to his and Louis’ relationship (who he needs onside as much as possible to ease the way for his little mind-bending trick), I think the wedding ring functions as a signal to LOUIS, who he has always chided for his stubborn attachment to his humanity. He can’t do much within the trial’s carefully-controlled confines, but he can signal to Louis through the ring that he still loves him, that he still believes in their union, that he’s here to save him. 

So then what about the tour wedding ring? I would argue it’s both 1) A signal to his fans – “Back off! I’m taken.” – and, more importantly 2) A signal to Louis: “It’s you; it’s always you. I’ll wait forever.” (And also probably, mascara streaming down his face, "I never agreed to our breakup so it never happened!!")

[jaestrz]

𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐚𝐢𝐧’𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 김민규 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐊𝐢𝐦

A/n: this is not proofread, it’s been a while since I last posted so my writing skills are rusty ㅠㅠ. Enjoy!!!

• Husband!mingyu x wife!reader

Mingyu know for one fact, he would do whatever he could to guide you and his daughter to the path of joy.

He wanted to give you the whole world if he could.

So when he happen to talk to an old friend of his during high school at an event. Most of the questions caught him off guard- yet, put him in a confused position.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve last seen you Mingyu! I never knew I could see you at an event like this in the future!” Hyunwoo chimed, extending a hand for Mingyu to take. To which he did.

“I didn’t know I could see you at a place like this as well. Heard you were settling in France, how’s life there?” Mingyu asked.

Hyunwoo smiled from ear to ear when Mingyu mentioned about his current home. “It’s been wonderful. In fact, I flew to Korea with my girlfriend. She should be here somewhere. I was hoping you two would get to know each other. ” Hyunwoo said, lightly placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Mingyu didn’t really know much about Hyunwoo. Perhaps it’s been years since he last talk to his friends, he didn’t bother to dig much information about Hyunwoo.

Back then Hyunwoo was amongst the richest kid in school. Everyone seemed to know his father as the CEO of a famous company. Other than that, how he and Hyunwoo had become acquaintance seems to be blurry in his mind.

A few minutes have passed with catching up, Mingyu came across a blonde haired girl in red who interrupted the conversation between him and Hyunwoo.

“Oh Jung eun! This is Mingyu, Mingyu this is my girlfriend Jung eun. Babe, can you believe it? The last time we met was back in high school!” Hyunwoo laughed, snaking his arms around his girlfriend’s waist when she got closer.

“Nice to meet you Mingyu, I heard a lot about you just now from my friends. You must’ve been an amazing person to everyone.” Jung eun complimented, Mingyu on the other hand could only force a smile.

It was different from what Mingyu had expected. He remember Hyunwoo dating a girl named Areum but it didn’t last long before they broke up on their 2 months anniversary.

And he couldn’t keep track of who Hyunwoo dated because really… there was just too much.

There was a moment of pause, as if he was running out of ideas to continue the conversation.

Until Jung eun asked.

“So… how about you?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?

He didn’t intend to laugh but he didn’t expect her to ask such things.

Hyunwoo eyes lingered towards the metal ring wrapped around Mingyu’s ring finger. It was a simple white gold band. How come he didn’t know Mingyu was married.

Hyunwoo looked surprised. And he spoke faster before Mingyu could answer.

“You didn’t tell me you got married recently. I thought you would at least have a girlfriend by now? You should’ve invited me, I would’ve love to see who’s the lucky girl.”

Mingyu smiled, shaking his head in denial. “Actually I got married before graduation.” He confessed, making Hyunwoo more confuse.

Hyunwoo thought Mingyu was joking. There was no possible way.

“But you were in a such tough position… How- it’s impossible. You know you can just tell me you got married recently, it’s not something to be ashamed about. Since- you did grew up with nothing.” He nervously laughed, trying to cover the shock impression. But when Mingyu didn’t seem to be kidding, he grew more furious. “You were going through a financial crisis even when you were in school. You were the quiet kid back then.”

“I didn’t know there were girls who were interested in you. Until now?”

To Mingyu, of course there was.

He wouldn’t think he would reach this far if it weren’t for someone’s support.

*

Mingyu didn’t have a lot back then like he has now.

A week before graduation, the both of you got married at a church near your hometown. Wearing a $20 cheap silver band as the rings. Although he had warned you many times that you shouldn’t be expecting too much from him, you were unbothered by his warnings.

You two were just two fresh young adults, living in a rented single room while Mingyu balanced his work and study life. He would work 4 different jobs while attending university. Same goes to you except he didn’t allow you to work like him.

It was the time where you and Mingyu would prepare budgeted meals together. Talking about what you two would want in the future.

A house.

Maybe kids.

Even a vehicle was something you two couldn’t afford to own.

“I have something for you love.” Mingyu said while you two were on your way back home. Both of you shared an umbrella (he was lucky enough to bring one when he went to fetch you) so there was such limited space for you both to not get wet.

A slight confusion planted on your face when he took out a snack from his backpack

It wasn’t much but it was something that could lit you up after a long day.

Pepero.

But back then it was considered expensive so you and Mingyu tried to avoid buying it and bought a cheaper version. Nonetheless, you wouldn’t know the real taste of pepero anyways.

“Gyu but I thought-” your words were cut when he pecked you on the lips, his hand intertwined with yours.

“It’s yours. Take it okay?” He smiled.

“But will you share it with me?” You cautiously ask.

A chuckle left his lips.

“If you want to, then yes love.”

*

“Sorry, am I interrupting?”

The three heads turned their heads towards you, the corner of Mingyu’s lips formed upwards. Taking your free hand and bring it up to plant a kiss on your ring before taking Minji from your hold.

Mingyu shakes his head no. “You’re not, I was just talking to an old acquaintance. From our high school actually, if you remember.”

Judging by Hyunwoo’s expression, he feel like his head could burst from the amount of questions he’s been holding to ask.

You?

The girl who he had been taken an interest since your sophomore year.

Turns out to be a mother and Mingyu’s wife.

But you had gotten more prettier. More mature looking and not just some girl who would open her locker to find dozens of gifts and letters from boys like him.

He was too lost to even speak his mind.

“Hello y/n it’s been a long time since we saw each other.” He extended a hand but you politely bowed as an exchange. “Do you remember me? Hyunwoo?”

And it took you a while to answer because you kept looking at Mingyu.

And he didn’t expect the answer either.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I do…” you replied and the pure disappointment just flushed over his eyes. Silence filled in the gaps. “I know it’s terrible of me but I believe it’s been 8 years ago? Were you someone important?”

“Not at all! Like your husband said, we were just acquaintance,” he said with a forced smile.

And before it started to get awkward, Jung eun quickly changed the topic.

“Well! It was nice to see you two. If you were ever to plan on traveling to France, we should see each other there.”

Hyunwoo coughed. “We also have to go now. Or else we might be late for our flight.” He kept his tone cool, before politely excusing himself and Jung eun.

You give it a few minutes when the couple left before turning over to a furious Mingyu with an eyebrow raised. Minji in his grip was playing with the two rings on his finger. You were holding in your laughters, it was possibly hard to breathe anymore.

“Cut the acting sweetheart, you’re terrible lying in front of me.” Mingyu stiffled a laugh when you let out the biggest exhale.

“There was no such thing as acting.”

“mama lie.” Minji murmured before rubbing her face in Mingyu’s neck.

“Even our daughter said so.” He grinned and you playfully rolled your eyes. “But why didn’t you admit it? Hyunwoo was hoping you would remember him.”

Mingyu was a nice person. You remembered back then when Hyunwoo looked down on Mingyu for being financially broke. He didn’t treat Mingyu like today.

You despise him more than anything.

“Because he used to be mean. Even if it’s not to me, he was mean to someone I love.”

You watched his eyes softens, his expressions turn into somewhat concern. It was something he didn’t want you to remember nor reminisce. It was something that he wanted to keep it away forever.

“Hey, I thought we agreed to move on sunshine?”

“We did.” You replied, watching his free hand tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “But then I saw you talking to him today and I remember all the mean things he said about you. How you were just some kid working a part time job to earn a living and you wouldn’t survive the outside world.”

And everything is true, Mingyu can’t find a single false in your words.

He wasn’t someone popular to begin with. Neither he has any knowledge on business. He was never trained to do those things.

Seeing Hyunwoo today took a big toll on you.

“But I just need you here beside me y/n. If you didn’t then maybe I’m nothing according to him.” Mingyu alleged. “We still have to be nice about it hm? I’m sure my princesses are such sweet girls.”

He got closer, planting a kiss on your cheekbone. Minji on the other hand was trying to adapt what was going on.

“Daddy, mama sad?” Minji asks, looking at you.

Mingyu put on a soft smile, planting a kiss on her temple.

“Mama is just a little tired. But she’s okay.” Mingyu assured.

“Uh oh, mama have to sleep!”

“Not a bad idea, maybe we should all go home and cuddle together in bed. How does that sound?” Mingyu suggested and Minji’s eyes lit up from the idea. “Should we ask mama if she’s okay with leaving early?”

The toddler turns to you, gripping onto your arm to get your attention. The satisfaction in her eyes when you said yes was heartwarming.

Mingyu’s gazed burnt your skin, as your eyes met with his, it was like he was asking if you were okay.

“Don’t worry anymore okay?”

Your lips formed into a thin line. Nodding.

“I love you.”

“I love you much more than you could possibly imagine sunshine.”

[russo-woso]

How could you? Part 2

If you haven’t read part 1, I’d suggest reading it first. It might make it a bit clearer.

It had been years since you last spoke to Alessia.

You’d seen her since, of course.

I mean, with you playing for Chelsea, playing Arsenal was a big match.

But since the divorce, the matches got even more climatic.

Both teams got even more aggressive, your teammates wanting revenge on Alessia for what they did to you, and Alessia’s teammates getting back at your own.

The pitch turned into a boxing ring when it was blue vs red.

But at the same time, you hated playing Arsenal because you had to play against your ex-wife and your current fiancé.

Your current fiancé, Arsenal’s own, Leah Williamson.

You didn’t seem to leave the house after the divorce, only leaving for things you had to, such as training and matches, but when you were invited to a charity event, there was no way you could say no.

And you were glad you didn’t because you met the love of your life that night.

You were aware that other footballers had been invited but you weren’t aware that Arsenal royalty had been invited.

You remember that night so clearly, you don’t think you’ll ever forget it.

After walking the red carpet, you found your assigned seat, next to Leah.

“Oh no, not you. I’m allergic to Chelsea players. I’m gonna die.” Leah exaggerated, clearly joking.

You rolled your eyes at her before responding, “Oh so dramatic. Why are you here as a footballer? You should be with all the actors, Williamson.”

“Yeah and you should be at church praying that we don’t batter you in two weeks.”

“Oh, really? I don’t think it’s me that should be praying.” You said back, a genuine smile resting on your face.

“You look good in red. You should switch to the right side of London.” Leah pointed out, changing the subject. You were wearing a red dress whereas Leah was wearing a suit that hugged her figure.

“Thank you, but I’m a blue through and through and anyway, I wouldn’t go to arsenal. Not when she still plays there. But you look good too.”

“I’m sorry about what happened with Alessia.” Leah apologised, her eyes softened as she rested a hand on your back.

“You don’t have to say sorry. You have a past and a future for a reason. She’s my past, I’m just looking for a future now.” You explained to Leah

“Although you’re a blue, You deserve someone who can make you happy.”

“Hmm, have someone in mind?”

“Maybe.” Leah sent a smirk over to you and a blush took over your cheeks.

The night carried on, flirtatious comments and touches from both of you.

It was safe to say that you didn’t end up in your own bed that night.

From that night onwards, Alessia was your past and Leah was your future.

And when you saw Leah more and more, you slowly forgot about Alessia.

Memories you made with Alessia got replaced with memories made with Leah.

The best memory happened two years after the charity event.

Leah took you to Greece on holiday and on the final night, she got down on one knee and made you hers.

————————

“My girls going to England camp today.” Leah mumbled into your temple before pressing a kiss there.

Your eyes flutters open and you smiled at the sight of Leah cuddling you.

You had received your first England call up from Sarina for the international friendliest coming up.

You had worked so hard over the past couple of months that you knew it wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Leah was by your side as soon as your phone rang.

You got off the phone from Sarina and Leah tackled you into a hug, placing kisses all over your face.

To say she was proud was an understatement.

“I’m nervous about it, Le.” You admitted to her, tears welling in your eyes.

“Why you nervous, pretty girl?” Leah looked at you, concern written on her face. She stroked loose hair out of your face and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m scared I won’t be good enough. And seeing less again. I’ll be playing with her this time.” You admitted and Leah cradled you in her arms.

“My girl, you have nothing to worry about. You are such a good player. You’ve scored 9 goals for the c word this season and we’re only half way through the season. And you don’t have to worry about Alessia. You’ll be okay, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“Time to get up?” Leah asked and you replied by cuddling into her chest even more. “I’m taking that as a no.”

————————

As captain, Leah had an advantage when it came to rooming people together.

Normally, couples weren’t allowed to room with each other, but Leah made sure that you and her were together.

You and Leah unpacked your things before heading down to the lobby, hand in hand.

“Here’s the love birds. How have you been Y/N? How’s Leah been treating you?” Kiera asked, pulling you in for a hug.

“I’m great, thanks, kie. Leah’s been incredible, like always. How are you? How’s the Spanish weather been treating you?”

“It’s amazing. You can move there, I can put in a good word for you.” Lucy offered, joining the conversation, but Leah was quick to refuse it for you.

“As much as I hate seeing her play in blue, she’s not moving away from me. She’s staying in London.”

“I’ll never move away Le. I’ll never leave.” You giggled at her protectiveness.

“I’ll never leave either.”

You pressed a kiss to her lips. When you broke apart, you turned to face Kiera and Lucy but when their eyes widened, you followed their gaze and saw her standing there.

“Alessia, hi.” You said, awkwardly, panicking a bit but as soon as you felt Leah’s hands squeezing yours, you calmed down.

“Hi. Do you mind if I quickly talk to you? I know you’ve got lots of introductions to do and probably a whole lot of media. And the fact that you probably don’t want to talk to—” Alessia’s voice got quieter the more she rambled on which made a small smile appear on your face. She hadn’t changed at all.

“Less, of course I’ll talk to you.” You said and turned to face Leah, placing a kiss to her cheek. “I won’t be long, baby.”

You followed Alessia round the corner just so you were somewhere a bit more private.

“It’s good to see you, you look good.” Alessia broke the silence that had overtaken you Both.

“Thanks. I am good. How are you?”

“I’m also good. I just…I didn’t want this camp to be awkward between us. I never got the chance to formally apologise. I’m sorry, Y/N. And I know that you’ll probably never forgive me, but I just want to know that you don’t hate me.” Alessia explained her reasons for wanting to talk to you. You could tell she was panicking so you rested a hand on back, gently rubbing it to calm her down.

“Less, I’ll forgive you. I forgave you the day I met Leah. But it doesn’t mean I’ll never forget it. I think me and you, we weren’t meant to be for each other. We got married young. We didn’t have the chance to explore anything. I’ll never forget you and me. You were my first everything so you’ll always have a place in my heart. I could never hate you Alessia. Not even a bit.” You told her, tears starting to stream down her face. “Hey, no crying. It’s all in the past. Come on, say it with me.”

“It’s all in the past.” Alessia and you said together as she let out a laugh and wiped her tears away.

“There we go. Now, no awkwardness between us, okay? You’re my friend, less. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” Less smiles and you brought her in for a hug.

“My god, Leah’s scary when she stares into your soul.” Alessia announced as she looked past you and saw Leah starting at the encounter.

You turned around and sent Leah a look, her face immediately softening and a smile was sent your way.

“You broke Leah, you know. Everyone says it. One day she was this woman who always frowned. It’s like she had a curse on her, and then she comes into training and she all smiles. You broke the curse.” Alessia said, and you smiled at Leah who was catching up with Georgia.

“She makes me so happy.” You admitted and Alessia smiled at you.

“I’m glad.”

“How’s you and Cooney-Cross?”

“We’re good. I’m planning on proposing to her next month.” Alessia revealed and you hugged her once more.

“That’s amazing, less. See, this is why we weren’t meant for each other. We both had other people out there for us. Leah’s my happy ever after, and Kyra’s yours. I never thought these words would leave my mouth, but I’m happy for you lessi. I wish you, and Cooney-Cross all the best.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I wish you and Leah all the best too. You deserve someone who treats you with respect and gives you all the happiness in the world. I’m just sorry I didn’t.” Alessia apologised again and you nodded your head, accepting the apology.

“Right, enough apologies. Let’s start fresh. Hi, I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” You put your hand out and Alessia giggled before shaking it.

“Hi Y/N, I’m Alessia.”

“Nice to meet you, Alessia.”

————————

“How did the conversation with less go?” Leah asked as you laid your head on her chest.

It had been such a hectic afternoon full of introductions, that you didn’t get to catch Leah up on the conversation.

“It’s went perfect. Better than perfect. She apologised, about a million times, I told her that I’d forgiven her. I mean, I did as soon as I saw you at that event. We got talking about you and Kyra. We both agreed that you’re our futures. And we introduced ourselves all over again, as if we’d never met each other before. Alessia will always be my past, you will always be my present and my future.” You explained to Leah and she pressed a kiss to your head.

“I love you so much, pretty girl.”

“I love you too, le.”

————————

“…You are my present and my future, Leah. I love you so much.” You finished, tears flowing down your cheeks as you stared into Leah’s eyes.

“I may now present you wives. You may kiss the bride.”

Leah leaned in and connected your lips.

The memories built up over the years playing in your head.

When you first met Leah, your first date, your first kiss, when you were able to call Leah’s house yours, when she was down on one knee, and now, when you broke apart from the kiss and Leah knelt down and kissed your stomach.

All your family and friends cheered.

It was your first time announcing the pregnancy.

You wanted to wait until you were 12 weeks, and it just so happened that it fell on your wedding day.

Leah stood back up, a massive smile on her face, and connected your lips once again.

“My future.” You whispered against Leah’s lips, a hand on your small bump, and an identical smile taking over your face.

“I love you, my girl, and my prince or princess.”

[midnightblues444]

Lustful afflictions |

Priest nanami x brat! fem reader

Warnings: age gap (readers in her 20s and hes like 30 something), perversion of Christian faith, corruption, m receiving, sacrilege ,

Notes: fell off the face of the earth for 2 months now I'm back so enjoyy <3

Imagine driving priest nanami to temptation and making him lose his mind remembering it all during a prayer for forgiveness

"I confess to my sins of lust" he recounts, knelt in prayer

From the moment you walked into his cathedral he could sense trouble

"the source of my sinful affliction, that of a girl who wondered into my very own church"

You'd giggle in his sermons, and look at him with a sparkle that he couldn't quite place. Your words dripping off your tongue like melted candy, he can only recall how the sound of his name from your lips sent jolts of an unfamiliar feeling through him.

"A walking temptation she was.."

the way you're dresses were always so short and tight, there was disrespect that radiated from your very being yet it wasnt the biggest issue

He could see it when you listen to his sermons, not with intent but with amusement more so seductively studying him, often catching himself losing his focus if he made eye contact with you.

It was most apparent when you came up for communion, staring up at him with doe eyes as you ate the bread slowly, smirking when he couldnt keep the eye contact . Turning back ever so slightly with a giggle as you made way to your seat.

"I repent, I repent"

Hed prided himself on always being a man of honor and more importantly a man of god, hed thus expected the unholy thoughts to go away on their own.

Though he took a concious effort not fall into the temptation you dangled before him and keep composed.

"It was in this very confessional where the affair began"

To his suprise you came to confessional one afternoon. Skipping down toward the box, the apparent click of your heels hitting the tiles of the church floor made his heart pound in his chest.

"She spoke things I'd never heard before, she promised to help me in ways the lord couldnt"

"Lust is natural for all of us isnt it nanami"

He cleared his throat, at the sugary way you said his name

"Lustful thought" you'd sighed, "though I think we all struggle with lust, do we not?"

"I suppose so, but we thus practice abstinence" he replied

"I should've abstained..."

"But do we really need to abstain from what we truly desire" you said , trying to push your luck "I mean I see how you look at me father nanami"

"I am a holy man though how I acted was not a reflection of that"

He slid your side of the confessional door open staring down at you with a faint blush. The priest was undeniably a beautiful man, his defined face and toned body that peaked under his black attire but was noticeably when he fidgeted with his white collar.

"So what do I do about it?"

"Take a seat" you purred

"I wish to repent and continue a life in your light"

He was clutching a rosary while you were on your knees, the priests cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.

He barely held it together, muttering forgive me lord under his stuttering breaths. He whined under your every touch, finding himself pleading for release, as the feeling of your throat was warm and unlike anything hed ever felt

begging for more, with his deep grunts as he thrusted unconsciously harder

"Forgive me I have sinned"

"Nggh" he breathed out, while you hummed and massage his balls, cumming down your throat with a deep whine

You wiped your mouth and stand, kissing his cheek sweetly. Straddling him with affection.

"You're not wearing panties" he said bewildered

"Didnt think I'd need em" you giggled as you slowly slid onto him. Both moaning out at the sensation. You began to move slowly adjusting to his girth, his head laid back as he breathlessly panted

"No no, look at me, look how good you make me feel" you said as you gently cupped his cheek

There is something so powerful about unraveling such a large man.

"So tight," he heaved tinted of blush across his face. You grind into your spot, moans filling up the small confessional space.

"Mmm so good, you're doing so good" you purred into his neck

"Forgive me because I find myself addicted to the feeling of her around me"

His thrusts grew sloppy, his grip on your hips stutter

"Forgive me because this addiction has costed me certainty in my faith"

He released into you for the second time, slumping into your plush chest, as you stroked his hair comfortingly.

"Amen"

[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish Chapter Four -- Vox

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter? Correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 1,225

Previous Part: Chapter Three -- A Reunion

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I wasn't planning on posting this until tomorrow, but it seems to have some rather excited fans so here is chapter four (and the fourth thing I'm publishing today. We're very done for the day. I am tried and have actual work to do.) Also guys, I'm screaming. I accidentally deleted the whole things right before I was gonna post it. Thankfully I had a draft from when it was almost done save but like, god that sucked.

On the screen was Vox, seated behind a desk.

"Top of the hour and we're discussing a certain has-been how has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence." Vox was saying, a poorly drawn image of Alastor displayed on the screen to his left.

Y/n saw Alastor's ear twitch with irritation.

"Yeah." she sighed, folding her arms across her chest, "Vox has gone kinda crazy since you left. I told you, things got tough."

"Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight's program." Vox said through the TV, shuffling a stack of papers.

Alastor changed the channel with another flick of his finger.

"Hun, don't worry yourself with it." Y/n advised, "He's still gonna be there tomorrow."

The new channel showed a talk-show set up, Vox-2-Nite, where Vox was both host and guest.

"So, the old Radio Demon is back in town." host Vox was saying to himself as guest.

"Why is he hanging around?" guest Vox asked, taking a sip from a mug that had 'fuck Alastor' written on the side.

"Al." Y/n warned, sensing her friends irritation growing.

"What does that mean for your family?" Host Vox asked before Alastor changed the channel again.

Vox was on the screen again, before a bright red curtain.

"Well, handily, I've got good news." he was saying theatrically, "He's a loser, a fossil, and I don't mean to sound hostel-"

Alastor changed the channel again. This time to one of Vox's mega church broadcasts. Vox stood in the center of the screen wearing a pope's hat with an inverted cross on it.

"But the demon is a coward!" he announced, his words matching the previous channels sentiments perfectly.

"Jesus, V." Y/n asked, eyes wide, "How many channels are you running this on?"

"You can take that as gospel. Pulling my viewers? Impossible. I'm visual, he's barely audible."

"Y/n." Alastor hummed, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Yeah?"

"You wont mind if I handle this quickly. We can have our little chat after, I promise. It wont take more than a moment."

"I don't know, Al..." Y/n sighed, crossing her arms and tapping her foot slightly, "This isn't good for you, letting him get under your skin like this."

Alastor changed the channel again. A cooking show appeared and Vox was standing before the oven, singing along to the music playing in the background.

"But he should've stayed away! While he hid in radio, we pivoted to video!"

Vox on screen turned to the oven as he sang, opening it and pulling out a deer's head on a plate. Y/n bristled at the site, her horns growing just the tiniest bit longer, her teeth just the smallest bit sharper.

"And now his medium is getting bloody rare!"

"Al?" Y/n asked sharply.

"Yes, darling?"

"I lied." Y/n turned to face him, "He took this shit musical. Rip him a new one."

"Oh!" Millie exclaimed, excitedly grabbing onto Moxxie's arm, "We're gonna get a show!"

Alastor's grin widened at Y/n's words, if that was even possible. He stuck his hand out to the side, his microphone materializing in his grasp.

"Lucky for me, I've got the best voice this side of the divide on my side." he noted, shooting Y/n a look.

Her eyes flashed red.

"You flatter me."

Alastor brought his microphone to his mouth, suddenly exceedingly calm. The imps present in the room watched in shock as his ears flattened along his head.

"Salutations, good to be back on the air!" he announced into the device, "Yes I know it's been a while since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!"

Vox's brow furrowed on the TV screen as he inched up close to the camera.

"What a dated voice." Vox shot back, clearly listening to Alastor's broadcast on the set of his cooking show.

"Instead of a clout chasing, mediocre, video podcast." Alastor continued, not showing any sign he had noticed the TV demon's insult, "Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?"

"Ignore his chirping!" Vox commanded from the TV.

Y/n laughed and, turning to face Alastor, realized the man held a hand out to her. With a smile, she took it and he spun her into his arms as he spoke. The music echoed through the office as Alastor raised the volume on the TV once again.

"Every day he's got a new format."

Alastor spun Y/n back out again as the pair began dancing.

"You're looking at the future!" Vox yelled back, "He's the shit that comes before that!"

As Alastor spun Y/n back into his arms, she laid one of her hands on top of his holding the microphone and pulled it closer to her face.

"Is Vox as strong as he purports, or is it based on his support?" she sang in a clear voice, Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie's eyes widening with recognition at the sound, "He'd be powerless without the other Vees."

"That's true!" Alastor noted, pulling the microphone back to himself as Y/n let go of his hand and he spun her back out again.

"It can't be..." Moxxie muttered under his breath.

"Holy shit!" Millie cut him off, excitement creeping into her voice, "There's no way, Y/n is the guest star?"

"The fuck are you two talking about?" Blitzo asked, turning to Millie and Moxxie as they watched the couple continue to dance.

"Well, Sir," Moxxie began, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, "back before the Radio Demon went missing, he used to bring guests onto the show on occasion. There was one guest he never named during his broadcasts however. She mostly just sang songs and chatted with him but, she sounded an awful lot like Y/n did just now."

"You don't say." Blitzo hummed, his arms crossed as he turned back to Y/n and Alastor, "So much for little miss 'oh, my life has been so boring. You'd probably just fall asleep if I started talking about it!' She is so gonna get it later."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hand and leaned into the microphone, beginning to sing as well, using the music emanating from the TV as a base.

"And here's the sugar on the cream: he asked me to join his team!"

"Hold on!" Vox yelled.

"I said no and now he's pissy, that's the tea!" Alastor finished, ignoring the demon once again.

"You old timey prick!" Vox exclaimed, his face glitching slightly as Y/n wandered back over to Alastor.

She leaned an elbow on his shoulder, tilting her head to the side in amusement as they watched Vox struggle.

"I'll show you suffering!"

"Aww, the TV is buffering." Y/n said, leaning into the microphone, her voice dripping with sickly sweet pity.

"I'll destroy yoo-o-u-u" Vox exclaimed as his technical difficulties seemed to grow worse.

Alastor and Y/n exchanged a wicked pair of smiles as the TV flickered out. Shadows crept from the edges of the room, encircling their feet. Alastor held an arm out to Y/n once again which she took with a smile. In a flash of darkness, they were gone.

"What the fuck was that?" Loona asked, stalking into the room.

----

Next Part -> Chapter Five -- The Conversation

[peterspinkrobe]

Communion | AU Priest Miguel O’Hara x female Reader

A/N: I commissioned the above Priest Miguel. Ever since the artist sent the sketch, (@ ejpuki on twitter plz go show love!) this story has been a brewin’ in my cranium. I am not a newbie when it comes to fanfic, but a virgin to writing Miguel. Please accept this offering to the mania that is fandom. Feedback is appreciated. I know the tenses are probably all over the place. Part 2 is live!!. Let me know if you’re interested ~~

Warnings: Religious content, parents, dirty-minded reader, no mention of Y/N

As you sat in the middle pew, aisle seats, you fiddled with the dress your mother guilted you into wearing. The hem of the skirt had a little fraying and you couldn’t help but pick at it.

The meddling was met with a small smack on your wrist from your mother.

“Stop! You’re going to make it worse! I know it’s an old dress but it will only look that way if you pick at it.” The sharpness in tone and the lacy lilac dress from high school brought you back to all of the Sunday mornings you’d been ripped from the comfort of your bed to attend church.

Church. Your head was already starting to hurt from the early morning light pouring through the stained glasses windows, but your tried to remain neutral to spare mom.

Your relationship with the Almighty soured not long after your father passed. Faith was hard to come by and the struggles you’d faced recently only strained that even further.

“Sorry, mama.” You say quietly, acting like you’re still twelve and not in your mid twenties.

Ever since you moved back in you’ve had to live under “her rules”. Sunday service is one of those rules. Considering the headache you’ve caused her recently, you ignore your own and do as she asks. It’s only fair.

But church? Last week was your first time back inside a church since leaving for college five years ago. It was the same one you’d been dragged to in your younger years. The same stained pews, same old books of Psalms, same feeling of estrangement despite being surrounded by the same old folks.

Your mom had turned her attention to the lady that lived on our street and you turned your own attention to your fingernails, scraping underneath them for dirt that wasn’t there. You think about how you had dropped the habit until moving back in, but was interrupted by microphone static.

You pulled your gaze to the front of the church and saw Father Steen tapping the microphone. Despite only being five years since you last saw him, the man seemed to have aged decades. His frail frame balanced on the podium as he spoke. You realized why the microphone was needed when he started speaking - amplifying the hushed tone of the elder addressing his congregation.

“Good morning and many blessings to you all this Sunday morning,” he began and you couldn’t help but lower your gaze back to the frayed bit of your dress. His monotone voice was… kinda boring. You hated thinking that way because Father Steen was such a good man and he cared for your mother greatly when dad passed. He was mentioning an upcoming surgery and you were back to picking at your fingernails. His voice eked on through the speakers, “so we will be having a transitional deacon come in to take over my position until I recover. This fine young man has graciously accepted this position as he is working to become a priest himself. Please welcome Mr. O’Hara as he leads us in prayer to begin communion for this month.”

There is respectful applause and your eyes are still on your hands until your mom elbows you gently. You start to apologize again for not paying attention but notice she and her pew neighbor are giggling as they clap. You start to clap your own hands as you look up at what they were giggling like schoolgirls about when your hands freeze in their clapped position - almost like you’re praying.

The deacon that Father Steen introduced was… gorgeous, and he was looking at you. You blushed, embarrassingly, under the gaze of the dark eyes. Could he tell you hadn’t been paying attention?

Well, you most certainly were now.

You pulled your eyes away from him to look at your mother who was wiggling her eyebrows at you, causing you to blush even deeper and turn back to the front.

The first thing you notice about the man standing at the front of the church was his height. He towered over the podium he placed a hand on. Father Steen came up to only just above his elbows with his hunched body.

The eyes that were watching you now surveyed the room and the light from the windows shown dark, warm pools of irises. His face…

Sharp symmetry made up his countenance. Distinct cheekbones bobbing as the smooth bronze skin stretched upwards into a smile. The strong jawline accentuated with the muscles of his lips pulling back, revealing a dazzling toothy smile.

When he spoke for the first time, you understood why your mom cried during Psalms at times. His voice was gospel.

“Thank you, all, for welcoming me into your parish. I know that you have received excellent spiritual guidance from Father Steen. I can only hope to at least partially fill his shoes in his absence.” His voice boomed throughout the church with no need for a microphone. “Before we begin the sacred ritual that is communion, let us bow our heads in prayer.”

The church around you dutifully lowered their heads, and you did the same. Hating closing your eyes to the alluring man in front of the church. At least his voice still filled your ears with song.

“Heavenly Father, we are gathered here today, in your house, in the name of your Son to receive the Body and Blood of Christ…” you decide it won’t be such a terrible sin to sneak a peek during prayer. You lift your head up to catch another glimpse at the ethereal creature leading prayer while he wasn’t looking.

But he was looking. Right at you as he continued to recite, “We are all sinners, and we are all in need of your grace and forgiveness.” You start to think about how much you needed his grace, when you pinch yourself for the blasphemy.

You’re still staring at each other as he finishes, “We pray that You will bless this communion and that it will deepen our relationships with You.” You instantly feel heat in your gut when you wonder just how deep it can go..

You think you see him grin slightly, but he pulls his eyes away from yours and you quickly put your head back down.

“In Your Blessed Name, Amen.” He ends. “Amen”, the church responds in unison and you squeak it out as well.

The first pew stands and approaches the front of the church, choir boys retrieving the communion goods. You notice that there is a split in the line as one is given the small wafer and grape juice shot by Father Steen and the other line the new deacon.

You can’t keep your eyes off him as he offers the sacrament to each person in line. He is taking longer than Father Steen, seeming to ask questions before presenting the body and blood of a savior.

As it came to be your pew’s turn, you stood. With only a few people in front of you, you studied Miguel’s figure in short glances.

Along with being a towering figure, he was a wide one as well. Muscles filled in the long-sleeved black button down shirt. His large upper body tapered off into a slim waist, tucked neatly into dark pants. A belt accentuated the fit waist even further. Your eyes trailed quickly across the thick neck that was accessorized by the all too familiar white collar of priesthood. When you were just behind one more person, your eyes fell to the floor.

Part of you wished you would be on Father Steen’s side as you feel as though you’re about to burst from this proximity of the giant man. He was bent over speaking to an elder of the church, giving her a soft smile as she blessed him for coming to ‘our little church.’

The man in line in front of you stood to Father Steen and the woman was letting Mr. O’Hara go from a sweet embrace.

Thank God, you guessed, for the years of attending communion as your muscle memory tore your legs from their form rooted position at the altar.

You approached the tall figure and your eyes are locked on the lips of the man in front of you. You see them move, hearing nothing but the beating of your heart in your eardrums.

“I-I’m sorry. What?” You sputter the words and heat creeps into your chest and face.

A soft chuckle escapes his full lips and he smiles as he repeats, “What is your name?”

You give it to him. And he says it. The way your name sounds in his music makes you smile up at him. He holds your gaze for a moment before speaking again.

“The Body of Christ.” He extends his hand in an upward position, the white wafer between his index finger and thumb.

You bow your head slightly in reverence of the offering. As you start to pull your head up again, his pinky and ring finger catch under your chin, lifting your face the rest of the way.

You breathe out a small gasp and open your mouth. He seems to mirror the action slightly as his own mouth drops slightly open. You extend your tongue a little as he places the thin wafer onto it.

His gaze is heavy as he watches you take the offering into your mouth. Your breath hitches when he runs his thumb across your pouted bottom lip, catching some saliva with it.

“Amen.” You respond and it’s not until he pulls his hand from your face when you turn to grab a small glass of grape juice. “The Precious Blood.” You hear him say behind you as you bring the glass to your lips, relishing the sweet refreshment.

Your face is red hot as you turn to walk back to your pew, ignoring your mother’s glances as she had already been back to her seat.

The burning in your cheeks is even more fiery as it dawns on you that the whole church saw the exchange. You hope, you pray, that it was perceived as a normal moment between a new Shepard and a member of his flock.

Communion wraps up and Father Steen takes a seat behind the the new head of church as he begins his sermon. The slight pressure of his thumb on your bottom lip created a pool of heat in your belly that wouldn’t go away.

You try to pay attention to the Good Word, you really do, but your mind is other places. Definitely not holy places.

Maybe coming to church won’t be too bad after all…

[papafuckingemeritus]

NOT MINE, but and absolute incredible theory on Ghost in the Trees found on Ghostbc subreddit that is too good not to share. Credit to VisAeternitatus on Reddit.

“Buckle up. You'll either find this interesting, or tell me I'm insane.

“The "Ghost in the Trees" VHS tape sitting atop the stack of other videos in the movie caught my attention because it simply doesn't fit and doesn't have anything to do with anything that we know of. Kinda like the cardinal sitting on top of the gravestone in the Square Hammer video. At the time, so random- yet it was a hint. We see this VHS tape twice during the movie, and it's sitting on top of an Infestissumam era tour video ‘Haze over North America Tour 2013’

“I googled "Ghost in the Trees" and came across this psychedelic garage art-rock album by a band called Thee Oh Sees. There's a song of the same name on their album, "The Masters Bedroom is Worth Spending a Night In". Other than carnal delights, why might one spend a night in the Master's bedroom? Usually something to do with conceiving the antichrist, right?

“The album cover and subject matter seemed Ghost-related enough for me to continue going down the rabbit hole, so I listened to the entire album. I have no doubt in my mind that TF is familiar with and has listened to this, I get a lot of raw vibes from it that one might perceive in all three Nihil-era songs.

“So why is this here, and what does it have to do with anything? Good question, and I honestly don't know but I just thought I'd throw out some possible breadcrumb trails. This is all some pretty loosely related stuff, but when considered all together who knows?

“1. I immediately noticed a similarity that the devil on Thee Oh Sees album has to the devil in the center panel of the red tour backdrop that started going up during Square Hammer (third photo).

“2. Proximity to the Infest era tour video along with some Papa II-related stuff in the movie also had me thinking "antichrist stuff". No, not that Copia is the antichrist. Rather, that his twin might be.

“Why? Well, during sister's life flashback scene, right before the twin birth is shown, there are a series of hidden images. We see an eclipse, a still shot from the Year Zero video of a hand reaching up towards a church window, a b&w still from the Dance Macabre video where the devil arrives, and two separate shots of Infest era ghouls. (These images go by so fast that they are practically subliminal!)

“So why are we seeing clips from a Papa II era song, and shots of his ghouls? Why do we see a cut to his face on the stained glass stage backdrop during the movie when Imperator is talking about how everything is "cyclical"? We even see Infestissumam in the background of the VEEPS bonus video.

“So I've seen different theories. Papa II is returning! Copia is the antichrist! Etc, etc.

“I think showing all the Papa II stuff could have something to do with the antichrist, not that Papa II is coming back. Infestissumam was about the antichrist's time on earth. Not to mention that some religious people believe that an eclipse supposedly occurs at the birth of the antichrist (and we are shown an eclipse right at the birth scene!)

“Also, we've seen a lot of antichrist type of imagery related to Copia, he's got the 666 tattoo, etc. If he's a copy (Copia), then his twin could be the antichrist.

“3. Back to the red devil background that appears during Square Hammer. There's a winged pope figure shown above the devil. I thought it was Copia, to be honest. But he's wearing a beehive shaped mitre, and the same shaped mitre appears above him, larger and wrapped in flames. This is actually a Papal Tiara, not a regular mitre. It used to be worn when a new Pope was "crowned". Why would a demon winged Copia be wearing this on a backdrop at the end of the tour? He was already "crowned" in Mexico City. And who appears at the Ministry doors at the very end?! Someone who is about to become the next Papa?

“4. I also wonder, who raised Copia's twin? And how could Copia's twin be the antichrist? Do they have two different Fathers, or was it during some ritual?! Does it have something to do with Papa II? Maybe the twin grew up influenced by him in some way?

“5. I also wonder if "Ghost in the Trees" is a musical stylistic hint of sorts, in relation to the Papa II era. This album is psychedelic post punk garage rock. It's an interesting listen and is all over the place stylistically. "Psychedelic" is frequently used to describe aspects of Infestissumam, too, as is garage rock and surf rock, even.

“I recall an interview where TF said that Phantomime was where he was leaning to take the sound for the future album. Well, there's two specific covers on Phantomime that have similar flavor to Thee Oh Sees- "See No Evil" by Television (often described as post punk/art rock/garage rock) and "Hanging Around" by the Stranglers- which has VERY psychedelic/garage rock vibes.

“So do what you will with that, but I'm wondering if the next album is going to have that element (not in the way the Nihil-era songs do, though!).

“Thank you for reading this mess and if you have any better ideas, please do share. I just wanted to get this off my chest.”

Tobias never ceases to amaze me, and I have no doubt there is something to “Ghost In The Trees.”

[tikosblogg]

Best friends.

Summary: y/n and Noah are bestfriends/house mates and y/n is an INNOCENT virgin, but she has been so horny for days, but can’t seem to satisfy the urge. So Noah offers his help.

Warning: guided masturbation, fingering, oral (f receiving), soft dom Noah, praise. Nothing crazy, actually kind of sweet, talk about growing up religious.

A/N: I’ve had this thought for DAYS. I finally decided to write it all out. Kind of short, sorry about that. Please enjoy!

“FUCK THIS” I groaned, pulling my hand out of underwear. I’ve been at this for an hour and half now. Nothing is working. My fingers, my brand new vibrator, porn. NOTHING is getting me off. Probably because I haven’t really done this before a week ago.

I am a 25 year old woman…and virgin. Now before you judge, it’s not all my fault. I grew up in a super religious family. Church every Monday, Wednesday, and Sunday. My parents were so extremely strict, I never had freedom. I was never able to do anything, or go anywhere. I never had friends, unless they were from church. Then there was the number one rule “NO BOYS.”

As soon as I turned 18, I fled that house. I went to college. I never went back. I don’t have a great relationship with my parents because of that. So as a result of growing up the way I did..even at college I didn’t really have the social skills to make friends, or meet any guys…

I just stuck to studying, and eventually graduated. Then I started working as a full time producers assistant. That’s how I met Noah. He was in the studio one week, working on some tracks. I was there the whole time. We talked a lot, got to know each other. We became great friends. I met the rest of the band, we got a long really well.

Now here we are 2 years later, I moved in with Noah and the guys. I ended becoming Noah’s personal assistant, and the rest is history. I groaned rolling over to check the time on my phone. 11:30pm. I sat up kicking my comforter off, and sliding out of my soaked panties making my way to the kitchen. The whole house is dark, and quiet.

The boys just got done with the tour, so all the guys went home to see their families. It’s just me, and Noah. He’s definitely probably passed out in bed by now. I padded across the cold tile, grabbing a cup from the cabinet. I filled it up with water, and hopped onto the kitchen island. I chugged the water down, placing the empty glass beside me. Dropping my face into my hands, I let out another sigh.

I couldn’t stop the tears of frustration from falling down my cheeks. I have all this pent up frustration that I can’t do anything about it. Probably because I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t know why I didn’t start trying to get to know myself sooner. Growing up the way I did, and then going without as long as I did…I just never had the urge.

Ever since I moved in with Noah, I’ve experienced all these different feelings. Im not blind, Noah is my best friend, but he’s hot. Probably the sexiest man to walk this earth. Like when he walks through the house without a shirt on? It feels like my entire body is on fire. When he calls me sweetheart, angel? Instant butterflies. One time he hugged me, and his hands were just above the top of my ass and I almost lost my mind.

I continued to let silent sobs escape, until a soft voice made me freeze. “Angel?” My head shot up, looking towards the hallway. Noah stood there in his joggers, his hair a mess. He wore a concerned look on his face, as he walked over to me. “What’s going on sweetheart?” He cupped my cheeks in his hands, wiping my tears with his thumbs.

I shake my head, giving him a small smile. “It’s nothing Noah. I’m fine, I promise.” There is no way I’m telling him. Oh you know, just can’t make myself cum. So I decided to come in here and cry about it. “You’re obviously not fine. Please, tell me.” He spoke so softly. He readjusted to stand between my thighs. He was so close, I could feel my heart speed up, and my face flush. I’m not wearing panties. Noah and I have always been able to be honest with each other, but this is humiliating.

He knows I’m virgin, but the idea of telling him I can’t even get myself off is next level embarrassment. “Everything is okay. I’m just…” the words caught in my throat. One of his hands left my cheek, landing high up on my thigh. “Just what?..” His hand felt hot to the touch. I could feel my pussy throbbing. He has no idea what he does to me. God I really need to stop thinking about him this way. It doesn’t help when he’s the close to me.

I closed my eyes, letting out a soft sigh. Nuzzling deeper into his hand, I continued. “I’m just frustrated.” He lifted my face up towards his, sliding his hand up and down my thigh, in a comforting way. Only it didn’t feel too comforting. “Frustrated about wha-“ he stopped mid sentence, as I tried squeezing my thighs together only to be stopped by his body still standing between them.

I quickly squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment. He eyes moved from my thighs, back to my closed lids with a stern look. I was caught. He is about to laugh in my face, and walk out. I slowly opened my eyes, to Noah’s looking straight at me. They looked two shades darker. I decided to try explain myself.

“I can’t….i tried to ..” I dropped my head in shame. I know I can trust him. I don’t know why this is so hard. He pulled me closer until my head was against his chest. “You tried to what?” His voice was just above a whisper, as he ran his fingers through the side of my hair. “I tried to..to touch myself and….” He nodded his head encouraging me to continue. “I’ve tried for a week straight, but it’s not working. I’m getting frustrated. I can’t take it anymore.”

I let out a loud sob shoving my face deeper in his chest, wishing I could shrink myself so small I’d disappear. I realize I’m probably being very dramatic, but I just don’t care anymore at this point. I’m going insane. After a few seconds of silence, Noah finally pulled away bringing us face to face. He wiped the rest of my tears before softly speaking. “What have you tried?”

I shook my head between his hands with a soft laugh. “Everything Noah. My toys, my hands. Nothing is working.” He stood silently, still watching me. Clearly battling himself with what he was gonna say next. “Y/n…I can help you…I mean if you me to.” My eyes widened into saucers. Help me? He wants to help me get myself off?

He noticed the panic on my face, quickly speaking up. “Only if you’re comfortable with it. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. I just wanna help you.” Before I could even give it a second thought, my head was already nodding yes. He gave me a soft reassuring smile, before helping me off the counter. “C’mon we’ll go to your room so you’re comfortable.”

I grabbed his hand that he held out for me, and quietly followed him back to my room. When we walked in, he led me straight to my bed. He climbed onto it, and settled up against the headboard patting the spot between his thighs. I hesitated before finally crawling on to the bed, and situated myself in front of him. He pulled me back against his chest, before placing my legs over each of his. Spreading mine apart as far as they could go.

“Okay, just relax angel. Show me what you’ve been doing.” His hushed voice was right by my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He reached around me, slowly pulling my shirt up. I felt his breath hitch when he realized I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I nodded my head, reaching down to play with my clit. After a few minutes some soft moans left my lips, but I still wasn’t getting anywhere with it.

I huffed, pulling my fingers away. “I can’t Noah…it doesn’t feel right.” He ran his hands down my thighs, putting his lips to shell of my ear. “You gotta focus on the feeling sweetheart.” I groaned at his gruff voice right in my ear. His hand was creeping closer, and closer to my soaked pussy. I bucked my hips up slightly, to finally get his fingers where I needed them most. But he kept them still.

I’m losing my patience, and I don’t care anymore. I need him to touch me. “You have to be turned on enough before touch yourself baby.” Baby….that did it. I finally grabbed his hand, sliding it a half an inch over to finally touch my poor neglected clit. “Please Noah…just please touch me…please make me cum.” I was a whining mess.

He groaned, when his fingers met my soaked cunt. “Fuck baby, you’re so fucking desperate for it huh?” I quickly nodded, letting out the most feral moan as he finally sunk a finger into me. “Oh my god Noah..” he pumped his finger a few more times, pulling out to softly rub my clit with the wetness leaking out of me. “You’re so fucking wet angel…what made you like this?”

He asked rubbing my clit with a little more pressure. I threw my head back onto his shoulder before moaning out. “You..fuck Noah you did.” He placed soft kisses against my neck, now shoving two fingers inside my pussy. “Yeah baby?” I whined at the slight stretch. I’ve never felt so good. He pumped them deep, crooking his fingers up, causing me to buck my hips at the amazing new feeling.

“You like when I do that baby?” He asked, doing it faster. I moaned nodding my head, not being able to get any words out. I jumped when a smack landed on the inside of my thigh. “Use your words angel.” I let out a breathy yes, as his other hand joined in rubbing my clit. “Oh fuck Noah please, don’t stop.” He pumped his fingers faster, while rubbing my clit, making me see stars.

“C’mon baby cum for me. Cum on my fingers.” That’s all it took, before I was screaming his name finally reaching my orgasm. His hand left my clit, before grabbing my jaw, and bringing my lips to his. We shared a heated, messy kiss while his fingers continued fucking me through my high. “Fuck you’re such a good girl y/n.”

He finally slid his fingers out of me, placing one more gentle kiss against my lips. “Fuck….thank you Noah.” He smiled, before shoving his fingers into his mouth. I watched in pure shock. That had to be the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed. “You taste so sweet baby.” He gently pushed me forward, before turning me around shoving me down on my back.

“Noah what are you doing?” He hovered above me, before sliding down until he was face to face with my pussy. “You said you’ve been trying for a week…you can give me one more right?” I was speechless. He wants to eat me out? All I could do was nod my head, as he slowly lowered down until his tongue was on my now sensitive clit. “Oh fuck!” My hands went straight to hair, tugging it. He groaned against me, sending vibrations through my core.

He swirled his tongue in quick circles around my clit, before shoving it as deep inside me as he could fucking me with it. I bucked my hips, quite literally riding his face. He pulled it away, licking from my hole, back up to my clit. “Fuck Noah I’m gonna cum.” He pulled away replacing his tongue with his thumb, rubbing in achingly slow circles.

“Yeah? Are you gonna be good girl, and cum on my tongue this time?” I whined, nodding my head pulling his face back to my pussy. He ate me like a starved man, until I was coming apart for the second time tonight on his tongue. He pulled away, slumping down onto the bed beside me. We sat quietly, both breathing heavily. I looked over at Noah, and we both had goofy smiles on our faces.

I couldn’t help but notice the large bulge in his pants. Maybe I could learn another thing or two before the nights over, what are best friends for….right?

Part 2????

[vidavalor]

You can leave your hat on

So Crowley comes up for a nightcap in The Blitz, Part 2 and takes off the wool overcoat the minisode introduced but leaves his hat on.

If you then go backwards and look at what he had on and when in The Blitz, Parts 1 & 2, it gets even more amusingly Ineffable Husbands pretty quickly...

When Crowley shows up in the church in The Blitz, Part 1 in his suit with the hat on, he's the last character to arrive in the scene but the clinch of a subtle commentary happening via the costuming by way of hats. Until the early 1960s, as you probably already know, a man didn't leave the house without a hat on, but they would take them off as a sign of respect in different places indoors-- churches and theatres among them. Women were not expected to do so, largely because the style of women's hats were often the kind that were pinned into their hair and to take it off was a whole damn thing that required more extensive grooming than is possible when just entering/exiting a place. As a result, the Nazis in the church scene are following social custom-- the male Nazis have their hats off because they're inside a church but Greta is not violating anything by having her (rather fabulous, ngl) hat on. Aziraphale, of course, took his hat off and has it in his hand for the duration of the scene.

Crowley kept his on and we're bemused more than anything because we know that while this is technically impolite, Crowley is far more of a good presently-man-shaped-being than these half-witted Nazi spies, right? Which is basically the point of the commentary-- that the rebels are often more morally sound than the conformers. Also goes without saying that Crowley shouldn't have the sunglasses on in church either (and that this is all set at night and during a blackout makes the fact that he does all the funnier) but Crowley can't take the glasses off around humans so... but then, after the rest of The Blitz, Part 1, we then hop into The Bentley with Crowley & Aziraphale at the start of The Blitz, Part 2 and find that Crowley has a new wardrobe addition:

Crowley is now wearing a black wool dress overcoat over his suit. Yes, they're magical and can regulate their body temperatures without actually needing the clothes they wear but the clothes they wear are also part of blending in with the humans of their day and we're now reminded that the 1941 part of The Blitz was going on over the winter into the early spring, something we could forget about momentarily when everyone had their coats off in the church but for Aziraphale, who has just worn the same coat for awhile now. This then serves to show us that Crowley got out of The Bentley outside of the church to go rescue Aziraphale and stopped to take his winter coat off and leave it in the car before doing so, all while choosing to not leave his hat behind as well. Yeah, wearing your hat into a church as a demon could be-- or only be-- about being a demon but we're going to see pretty soon that it's not *just* about that. So, why take his coat off?

Because he wants his angel to see his suit.

Crowley wears a lot of black and he had to be careful not to be mistaken for SS, so he's added in some color. He has some angelic white in the form of a hankerchief and a shirt that's a shade of grey that makes it actually look blue-- wearing his Aziraphale colors, we see-- and a snazzy red tie. You can't see this very well if he has his overcoat on so he left the coat in the car, consciously wanting to look as dashing as possible when showing up to grand romantic gesture Aziraphale.

When they get to the Windmill Theatre, Crowley wears both the hat and coat into the theatre-- but he takes the hat off once they're inside. Churches can go pound sand but Mrs. H? Crowley wouldn't dare disrespect her or her theatre lol. Aziraphale also takes his hat off in the theatre and we see that he does in every place of reverence to him, as he also takes his hat off in the magic shop later on. Crowley then wears the hat and coat both back from the theatre to the bookshop and once he settles in there to help Aziraphale prepare for his magic show, he *settles in*, as we know, tossing his hat on an angel statue, hanging up his overcoat, and unbuttoning and opening up his suit jacket as he sits down. The jacket now open, the design on his tie is now visible for the first time. Aziraphale is amusingly invested in his magic but when he does get around to unburying his nose from his autographed Prof. Hoff magic book, he can look his full at Crowley's whole ensemble here, which Crowley has been alternately hiding and revealing in bits and pieces so far (like a certain show we know lol.)

Crowley wears all of it on their date to the magic shop but keeps his overcoat open and takes his hat off again at The Windmill when he's in the audience and on stage with Aziraphale. However, after the performance, when Furfur confronts them, Crowley has the hat back on-- while he's lounging on the couch, alone with Aziraphale in the dressing room. They weren't exactly about to leave in that moment when Furfur showed up. Aziraphale is still in costume and they're still chatting about the performance. Crowley isn't standing by the door waiting for him to get his stuff so they can go and so already has his hat on. He's sitting on the couch. But the hat's back.

After Aziraphale manages to set Furfur up in this scene, we then next see them again in the bookshop, drinking Chateauneuf-du-Pape and talking about how Aziraphale saved the photo. Crowley's overcoat is nowhere to be seen, presumably hung up on the coat rack in the front part of the shop, but he's kept the hat on and, at this point, there's no other possible reason to not have taken it off but for that Aziraphale likes the hat. A lot.

(And yes, before anyone messages me, I know that's Terry Pratchett's hat. In the context of GO, though, that's Crowley's 1941 hat.)

[jesuistrestriste]

bestie okay hear me out. priest mike but like you're the one in control. STAY WITH ME!! like you go to church and flirt with him like crazy, wearing skimpy outfits making him dizzy in the head which eventually leads him to cave into his desires that he holds so dearly, basically begging for for your attention and your touch. idk but the thought of like "corrupting" (idk if that's the right word for it) him in such a filthy slutty way, man in thinking thoughts...(absolutely love your writing btw you're so talented fr!!)

(AHH?? anon?? woah, woah woah. im drooling. im definitely listening.)

i can imagine the reader going to the church in a short jean skirt that just barely covers her ass. and she knows people will judge her, but she doesn't care because all she needs is his attention.

the priest is up on the stage, giving a sermon, staring right at her, and all the reader does is maintain eye contact while she uncrosses her legs and holy shit she's not wearing panties.

he's sweating and burning up and almost stuttering in front of everyone as he pulls on the collar of his dress shirt and tries not to look at her, but he really can't tear his eyes away for more than a few seconds. mind you, he's popping a boner behind the pulpit. thank god for that fuckin' pulpit, pun not intended (sorry, god).

once the service is done, and everyone has flooded out, he quickly walks down to the reader in the pews and immediately gets down on his knees in front of her; his eyes all big and blue with pupils completely blown.

"what are you trying to do to me?" he whispers, desperation and anticipation and embarrassment wavering in his voice as his hands run up over the soft skin of her thighs.

and the reader just smirks, spreads her legs, and urges his face into her heat. "Shhhh," she hums softly, watching him look up to her as his lips and tongue make contain with her slick cunt, "be good for me.. we can ask god for forgiveness after you make me cum..."

and wow, he doesn't resist at all. he laps at her core until shes spilling and spasming in her seat, her leg draped over his shoulder as the broken AC in the church only exacerbates his guilty sweating.

should he stop? yeah. but he can't. and he won't. he wouldn't in a million years. not even if hell itself opened up beneath the floorboards of the holy building they're in and threatened to swallow him up if he didn't stop eating her pussy.

if heaven's doors opened up above right then, a golden staircase beckoning him in, he'd still choose her pretty folds + her hole over any sort of everlasting paradise.

after all, weren't heaven and her the same things?

----

ive honestly been thinking about writing a pt 2 to "kneel" where the reader takes a bit of control? like a tiny bit? i just don't think that the priest!mike faist character i've built up in that fic would necessarily enjoy her doing that LMFAO.

he'd be like "hm. ok. ill do it for u". but when she starts to coo at him or deny him release he's suddenly like >:( this isn't fun anymore.

---

but no, im seriously all about corruption. i think it's insanely hot. so i raise u one more: priest's son!mike...? priest's son!art donaldson..?

mmph

[whenmemorydies]

Carmen, Natalie, and the Berzattos

CW: this post talks about domestic violence, addiction, mental health, racialised trauma, toxic masculinity and intergenerational trauma (this show deals with so much friends!).

Go gently with yourself if you choose to continue to read. Also its a long one (longer than my usual!) so fair warning if you're diving in: maybe put the kettle on.

Following on from The Claw, The Scrunchie and The Prayer Card metas (Part 1 and Part 2), I've been thinking more about The Berzattos (represented via Natalie's hair claw in Carmy's apartment) and their presence (seen and unseen) in season 3 of The Bear.

@espumado's fantastic meta on The Night of the Hunter and its use in The Bear, particularly as it relates to Natalie and the struggle she goes through in season 3 has informed a lot of this post. My reblog of that post also contains a lot of thinking that I had started to scratch at but haven't been able to expand upon until now. Also check out @currymanganese's brilliant analysis of The Night of the Hunter in the context of romantic relationships in The Bear.

Another source of information I've used in the research for this meta is this fantastic interview in the LA Times with the cast involved in 2x06 Fishes (thanks @brokenwinebox for sharing it!). Also thank you to @thoughtfulchaos773, @brokenwinebox and @devisrina for the chat about the above interview and discussions about Donna Berzatto's relationship with her son, Carmy.

Finally @vacationship's most excellent breakdown of the roles taken up by characters in The Bear according to Adult Children of Alcoholics ('ACA') roles defined by Sharon Wegscheider-Cruise and communicator types as developed by Virginia Satir has also informed this post.

The Berzattos

Okay so, given what we know about Carmy and about the Berzattos, it would seem obvious that, yes, his birth family is going to impact Carmy. I think its probably so obvious, that a lot of the fandom, myself included, have taken Carmy's relationship with his family for granted this season. To be fair, we were also getting Claire and the Faks shoved down our throats so some things flew under the radar including, in my view, the Berzattos.

What got me thinking about the Berzattos as a source of anguish for Carmy was a rewatch of 3x03 Doors - specifically Carmy's panic attack during that episode.

The first panic attack of season 3

At this late point in the episode, we've been watching Carmy and the crew's slowly escalating struggle with the demands of fine dining, when we arrive at Carmy running expo and calling for hands. His voice is hoarse and it sounds like he's been screaming for some time. His vision starts to blur and as he continues to call out for hands, we see glimpses of what appear to be intrusive thoughts, interrupting Carmy's work and triggering a panic attack. The sequence of shots that appear during this panic attack is below:

I note that Carm appears to be trying to come out of the panic attack by remembering his time at The French Laundry and Noma - much like memories of immaculately plated food helped him regulate during his panic attack in 1x08 Braciole and memories of Sydney helped him to regulate during his panic attack in 2x09 Omelette.

The final thought Carm has during this panic attack - indeed the thought he has when it appears that his panic attack is reaching its peak - is of his sister Natalie, in a church praying:

Note: I'm working on the assumption that the above memory of Natalie takes place at Marcus' mother's funeral. This is based on the clothes Natalie is wearing and how her hair is styled.

Its at this moment in his panic attack that you can see the crest in Carmy's emotions. The orchestral score during this sequence also builds to its climax at this point. Carmy's face screws into a tight grimace and he practically spits out the word, Fuck. Its only then that the music cuts away and we hear Sydney's voice bringing Carmy back to the present:

The fact that thinking about Natalie (praying while she carries the next generation of the Berzatto family) is what causes Carmy's panic attack to peak is what got me thinking more seriously about the impact of his birth family on Carm. ( This is something that others including @mitocamdria and @moodyeucalyptus have also picked up on here and here - the Bear hive mind at work!)

Below is my attempt to map these impacts out, from the perspective of intergenerational trauma, which can be described as,

"the apparent transmission of trauma between generations of a family. People who experience adverse childhood experiences growing up, or who have survived historical disasters or traumas, may pass the effects of those traumas on to their children or grandchildren, through their genes, their behaviour, or both, leaving the next generational susceptible to anxiety, depression, hypervigilance, and other emotional and mental health concerns."

I'd argue that intergenerational trauma can continue well beyond a person's grandchildren, particularly in cases where the systemic factors may have caused a trauma (for example: racial segregation, colonialism), continue to impact on multiple generations of a family.

So lets start by looking at Carmy's mother, Donna Berzatto...

Donna's trauma

I preface the below analysis with the caveat that we are not told what mental health diagnoses (if any) Donna Berzatto has (though she is clearly struggling with her mental health when we first meet her in 2x06 Fishes). The inferences I make below are based on what we have been told in the show about trauma that Donna has experienced.

Recall 3x08 Ice Chips where Donna and Natalie are talking in between bouts of Natalie's contractions. At one point in the episode, Natalie says:

I don't remember your mom.

To which, Donna sadly responds:

You don't want to.

Donna then becomes silently tearful remembering her mother.

Its clear from this very brief exchange that Donna has experienced some level of abuse at the hands of her own mother: Michael, Natalie and Carmy's maternal grandmother. That abuse has no doubt impacted on Donna's ability to parent her own children and likely influenced how she parented them as well.

As a mother myself, I've found that one of the hardest things about parenting has been avoiding the repetition of harmful behaviours that I've picked up through my own childhood. For all of us, the first - and often most memorable - models we have for how to parent have been the experiences we've had with our own primary caregivers (whether they were our birth parents or other adults in our lives). If those models were abusive or violent, we have to work that much harder to make sure we don't fall back on those examples when raising our own children. (And let me tell you, in the heat of the moment when your child is cracking a tanty in the grocery store, it takes A LOT to not revert to learned behaviours and instead take a step back and act from a rational place of calm lol).

For many folks who've had abusive childhoods, raising your own children can also be a very triggering journey. This article goes into a bit of why this is the case. If you've not been able to do any work on yourself or receive help to work through your own childhood abuse, you risk "blowing your trauma through" your children (I've borrowed the phrase "blowing trauma through" from African-American therapist and trauma specialist, Dr Resmaa Menakem, whose fantastic book My Grandmother's Hands has also influenced this post and a lot of my thinking about racial and intergenerational trauma). Given Donna's own history of abuse with her mother, its not a big leap to assume that she has "blown her trauma through" Michael, Natalie and Carmy with each of her children experiencing this in different ways.

There's also Donna's clear mom rage, no doubt built up over years as a single parent, and epitomised in the line from 2x06 (that broke my heart when I heard it because it resonated so much),

I make things beautiful for them, and no one makes things beautiful for me.

Based on the show's lore, up until 3x08 it wasn't evident that Donna had ever taken any steps to try and work through her own mental health issues and trauma. Once we get to 3x08 though, when Natalie says that she didn't tell Donna about her pregnancy because,

I just didn't want all the stuff you bring with you.

Donna replies by saying:

Yeah. I've been trying to put that stuff away.

Natalie then asks her mother how that process is going and Donna responds,

Its not easy.

Natalie then tells her mother that she's glad Donna is trying and Donna says she's glad that she's trying too.

Its not much, but the above exchange points to a slight shift in Donna's approach to her own trauma and to her parenting. This shift appears to have put Donna and Natalie's relationship on firmer footing than it has been in the past. Whether it will be enough for Carmy's relationship with his mother is another question and one I'm sure we'll see play out in season 4.

The Berzattos and Italian American racialised trauma

Other than the above exchange in 3x08 Ice Chips, we have no information about Donna's parents. I assume that Donna was born in America given her description of the Feast of the Seven Fishes (also known as La Vigilia) as described to Richie in 2x06 Fishes. During her description, Donna speaks about the Italian immigrants who brought "their seven best things" with them as if she's speaking about ancestors, not her own generation.

She does not use the first person here:

[I]ts based on people who left Italy to find new dreams and homes with new people. And they brought their seven best things from their sea to their new homes. And not so their families end up being a bunch of fuckin' jagoffs. (lmao)

Then Class A Jagoff, Uncle Lee storms into the kitchen and tells Donna that her retelling of the Seven Fishes legend is "not even close" and refers to all the sevens that occur in the Bible. Which is likely a closer explanation for the feast (see this overview on La Vigilia published on the Italian Sons and Daughters of America website). Notably, it was southern Italian and Sicilian immigrants that popularised the Feast of the Seven Fishes in America.

Given the above, it doesn't seem to me that Donna is a first generation Italian immigrant. Depending on the Berzatto family history, its possible that Donna is the daughter of Italian immigrants or the granddaughter of them. Her Italian ancestry could stretch even further back in time. At this point in The Bear, we don't know.

What we should note is that Italian immigrants and in particular, southern Italian and Sicilian immigrants to America, endured a history of racism in that country before their acceptance into the category of "white" in America.

Image source: How Italians Became 'White', The New York Times

This NY Times article provides an overview of the racialisation of Italians in America over time. The article notes that,

"[d]arker skinned southern Italians endured the penalties of blackness on both sides of the Atlantic. In Italy, Northerners had long held that Southerners - particularly Sicilians - were an 'uncivilized' and racially inferior people, [considered] too obviously African to be part of Europe."

This racism of northern Italians towards those from the south of the country was no doubt tied to Italy’s own racist and violent colonial history, including its involvement in Europe's rabid "Scramble for Africa". In the course of its time as a colonial power, Italy came to brutally invade and occupy Eritrea, Somalia, Libya and Ethopia.

Note: I don't think its a coincidence that, Ebraheim, Somalian "grill master", medic and veteran of the American military intervention in Somalia, found himself working at an Italian American beef sandwich shop. Much in the same way that its no surprise that many folks in my Tamil family ended up in the heart of the British Empire - the UK - after fleeing civil unrest and genocide in one of its former colonies (Sri Lanka). As Tamil writer A.S. Sivanandan is famously quoted as saying about post-colonial migration: "we are here, because you were there."

Once they first arrived in America in the 19th century, racism against Southern Italians continued:

"They were sometimes shut out of schools, movie houses and labor unions, or consigned to church pews set aside for black people. They were described in the press as 'swarthy', 'kinky haired' members of a criminal race and derided in the streets with epithets [that were more commonly] applied to enslaved Africans and their descendants[.]"

Though while Italian Americans experienced the severe racial prejudice described above, particularly during their early history in America, some were still able to benefit from their European ancestry in ways that people with non-European backgrounds were unable to. This included: being able to apply for US citizenship, being able to marry, own property, and choose where to live - things that BIPOC people often faced great barriers (if not outright bans) to accessing.

Notably, in Chicago where the Berzattos are based, the history of Italian racialisation differed to other major cities in America. In Italian Immigrants, Whiteness and Race: A Regional Perspective (p. 6) Italian historian Stefano Luconi notes that,

[I]n Chicago, Italian Americans competed primarily with Polish immigrants, who generally turned out to be less hostile to them than Irish Americans in New York City or Boston, and overall their accommodation within the adoptive society was easier than elsewhere.

Given the above, the Berzattos' connection with Polish "family members" Uncle Jimmy Kalinowski, Uncle Lee Lane, and Cousin Richie Jerimovich appears rooted in a long history of Polish-Italian relations in Chicago.

Note: Ancestry.com tells me Kalinowski is a Polish and Jewish last name. Uncle Lee identifies as "Polski" in 2x06 Fishes and in the draft script for 2x06 is listed as Uncle Jimmy's brother. While Richie's ethnicity isn't explicitly stated in The Bear, in 3x04 Violet, he refers to his daughter Eva as żabka which is Polish for "small frog" and is also used as a term of endearment for girls or women.

Eventually Italian Americans were assimilated into the racial category of "white" both legally and in the popular imagination of the country. This happened in a few ways including via Italian Americans claiming whiteness for themselves, particularly in active opposition to Black, African American communities. This is despite their historic racialisation in comparison to Black, African-descent people (which, in a better world, could have been the basis for shared and sustained solidarity between the two communities). Luconi observes that,

"in Brazos County, Texas, Italian Americans learned to claim whiteness for self-protection, which involved showing off hostility toward African Americans in the mid-1890s [...] By the same token, after realizing the social benefits of being characterized by a white identity, Italian Americans in Baltimore embraced the racist premises of the local political leadership in the early twentieth century and joined two campaigns that unsuccessfully aimed at disenfranchising African Americans in 1905 and 1909 by amending the state constitution." from: Italian Immigrants, Whiteness and Race: A Regional Perspective (p. 15)

The above NY Times article states that in 1892, the lynching of 11 Italian immigrants who were accused of killing a police chief in New Orleans resulted in Italy breaking diplomatic relations with America. As a result of this and to prevent unrest in the Italian American community, US President Benjamin Harrison proclaimed 12 October as "Columbus Day" and encouraged Americans to celebrate the contribution of the Italian Christopher Columbus to the creation of America.

Apparently, this sleight of hand (a legerdemain because it: (a) magically erased generations upon generations of First Nations who have existed in the Americas long before Columbus' arrival (and who continue to do so), and (b) because it vanished the explorer's penchant for rape and enslavement of the First Nations' people that he did encounter) was enough to reinstate diplomatic relations between America and Italy as well as carve out a place for Italian Americans in the white, American imaginary.

Indeed, despite recent calls to stop the celebration of Columbus Day led by First Nations people across America, it is Italian American organisations (including the Italian Sons and Daughters of America) and prominent Italian Americans that are some of those voices leading campaigns to keep Columbus Day as it is, reductively and disingenuously dismissing its critics as attacking Italian-American heritage.

Note: the above views are obviously not shared by all Italian Americans. See below protest staged by Italian Americans in the Berzattos' hometown of Chicago, in opposition to the city's Columbus Day Parade (Source: Fox 32 Chicago):

One of my heroes, Toni Morrison, once said of American national identity,

"In this country, American means white. Everybody else has to hyphenate."

White supremacy operates amongst racialised communities through divide and rule, with these communities pitted against one another, trying to achieve as close a proximity to whiteness as possible. In the US context, that proximity brings those communities closer to what is perceived as "American". The above examples show how some Italian American communities in America shifted the racial categorisation of their community to "white" over time by fighting for that proximity. I would argue that that shift came at a great cost, as all racism does: a cost to the BIPOC communities that were fucked over in the process and a cost to the souls of those now "white" Italian Americans who participated in divide and rule to get closer to a white supremacist position of power. Dr Resmaa Menakem would refer to those costs as traumas for both BIPOC communities and (now) white, Italian American communities.

In My Grandmother's Hands, Dr Menakem discusses the impact of racialised trauma on white people. Specifically, that white supremacy - or as Dr Menakem refers to it, "white body supremacy" - is itself a trauma response. I won't get into the details of this framework (and make this post longer than it already is lol) except to say its fascinating and I'd encourage you to read My Grandmother's Hands to find out more. Its relevance here is to illustrate that on top of our individual, personal traumas, we each carry with us racialised trauma. I make the point of articulating this because while The Bear alludes to race (sometimes masterfully as in this scene where Donna tries to play divide and rule in her own way), it often does so obliquely in ways that are not always obvious to viewers (for example, see director Ramy Youssef's discussion in Variety about the bike crash scene in 2x04 Honeydew). But make no mistake, race permeates this show.

For example, I think about Uncle Lee’s jab at Mikey in 2x06 about the latter living with his mom, and compare this to Marcus living with his mother throughout seasons 1-2 or Sydney living with her father in seasons 1-3. I think about how in many communities of colour, multi-generational living isn’t seen as shameful because the focus is not just on financial dependence but on relationships and care. Certainly, an adult child might not be financially independent but if they are caring for their parent, this is something to be valued.

I think about how the move to individualism (championed by Uncle Lee) away from family and community (features that Italian culture is historically very well known for) is a shift that, for many Italian Americans, may be viewed as a cost incurred as a result of an allegiance to white supremacy.

I think also about the words of Tema Okun, who wrote about how white supremacy shows up in organisational and professional settings in her 1999 article "White Supremacy Culture" and how in that work, Okun noted particular identifying characteristics of organisational, white supremacist culture, including (but not limited to):

individualism;

perfectionism;

either/or & binary thinking; and

a sense of urgency.

Sound familiar? I thought they might. These are traits that Carmy has exhibited in almost every episode of season 3 (and periodically in seasons 1-2). Notably, these are traits that are also valorised in the world of fine dining, as we see it through Carmy's eyes throughout season 3 (in flashbacks and in how he chooses to run The Bear). And we all know how well this shit is going for our man (lol).

I'll get into this more in an upcoming meta (again, this is me manifesting in a bid to force myself to finish writing the thing lol), but I just wanted to point out how both in terms of his racialisation and his professional career, Carmy is immersed in white supremacy - whether he wants to be or not - benefiting from its privileges while also being witness and therefore, subject, to its horrors. No one escapes this shit, not even those who've been welcomed into the fold at the top of the hierarchy.

All of this - the racialised history and trauma associated with the Italian American community as well as the clear whiteness that marks the fine dining industry - makes Carmy's character that much more fascinating to me. Here is a character with seemingly no personal prejudices towards BIPOC folks. He loves the BIPOC folks in his life quite dearly (in particular, Marcus who he treats as a brother, and of course Sydney, in whom he's found a soulmate). I think this is likely due in large part to the role Carmy's siblings (Mikey and Natalie) played in raising him. These two characters also appear to care deeply for the BIPOC people in their lives without much of the prejudice that many who have been racialised and socialised in their community might harbour. And in their roles as surrogate parents for Carmy, they appear to have modelled that healthy and normal (because we must remember, what is abnormal is racism) respect for their fellow humans. They're not perfect in this (recall 2x06 and Mikey's bombastic objectification of Claire) but we do see repeated glimpses of their goodness throughout the show (recall 3x06 and Mikey's kindness to Tina, or the pantry scene in 2x06 and the gentleness he displays towards Carmy there). This is in contrast to their mother, Donna, who clearly has done no work to prevent blowing her own racialised trauma and prejudice through the bodies of her kids.

Also while the racialisation of The Bear's BIPOC characters is readily apparent (because the white supremacist culture of the West is more attuned to looking at non-white people and automatically seeing race), its white characters are also racialised and have racialised histories. The above was my attempt at stepping out a bit of the racialisation of The Berzattos, of Carmy, and of the racialised trauma that they also carry with them.

Phew.

Okay, now back to the Berzattos...

Carmy's birth

Recall 3x08 Ice Chips and Donna telling Natalie the stories of each of her children's births. By far, the birth that appears to cause Donna the most rage, the most pain, is Carmy's. It also happens to be the only birth out of her three children that her (by all accounts) deadbeat husband is present for. Donna describes fighting with her husband during the entirety of her labour with Carmy and that the hospital was fucked because it seemed like everyone went into labour at the same time. She then tells Natalie that Carmy took a long time to arrive:

Note: Its not lost on me that Carmy's obsession with speed, rushing and sense of urgency was almost definitely drilled into him from birth, given the rage with which Donna describes his "slowness" in being born.

Donna then goes onto express how frightened she was and the further difficulties involved in Carmy’s delivery:

It was so hard and so scary because he kept getting stuck, and they just kept having to move me, and I remember they were moving me in all these positions. And then at one point, I think they had me fucking upside down or something.

And then, so brutally it becomes darkly funny (I've pushed a kid out too: it can be so painful, if you don't laugh, you'll sob hysterically lol), Donna describes Carmy's birth as just all around fucked:

The whole thing was fucked:

No seriously, very fucked:

So Carmy entered the world and the experience of his delivery was fucked nine ways to Sunday for his mother. A very difficult beginning to this life for a baby, to say the least. I would go so far as to say, given the way Donna is recounting Carmy's birth, that she experienced birth trauma, and possibly developed birth-related post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

Contrast this with how Donna describes Michael's and Natalie's births:

Despite Michael also having difficulty being born (Donna recalls that it seemed like "he wanted to stay" in the safety of her womb), Donna says that she felt really good, great and strong during her labour with him and that his birth was even described by a doctor as an "amazing" one.

Donna describes Natalie's birth as "beautiful" with Natalie arriving after Donna had had a restful sleep and a vivid, prophetic dream. Donna then goes onto tell Natalie that she was delivered in the presence of a "sweet" girlfriend (Cicero's first wife, Gail) who sat with Donna during labour and who played "Baby, I Love you" for Donna as Natalie arrived.

The differences in how Donna recalls Mikey, Nat and Carmy's births and Donna's propensity in the past for holding her children's "mistakes" over their heads (recall 2x06 Fishes and the story of how Natalie got the nickname "Sugar"), make me think that she was likely to have rubbed Carmy's difficult birth in his face when he was younger. I think that Donna was also likely to have either intentionally or unintentionally (or perhaps both, depending on the circumstance) made Carmy feel less than his older siblings, maybe not as wanted. We have some evidence pointing to this happening in Carmy's past, peppered throughout the show.

Growing up in the Berzatto house:

As a child Carmy had a stutter, which causes speech to inherently slow (as it takes longer to form words and sentences). He was also scared to speak. Now a stutter in and of itself would not make the person speaking scared. Its other people's reactions to a stutter that would do that. Given Donna's vitriol at how slow Carmy's birth was, and her obsession with time (anyone fancy a kitchen timer? this lady's got 700 of them), its not a stretch to imagine that any delay in Carmy articulating himself as a child would have been met with ridicule or rage from his mother.

We know that all the Berzatto children grew up scared of their mother, a survivor of abuse herself, and an addict who drank to excess with clear mental health issues that it didn’t appear she was seeking treatment for. Recall Natalie's disclosure to Donna in 3x08 Ice Chips:

Carmy also grew up embedded in a particularly toxic type of white, heterosexual masculinity embodied by his brother Mikey and "cousin" Richie (who undoubtedly had it blown through their bodies by family, friends and the white supremacist, homophobic culture we are swimming in, in the West). I've previously discussed this in my meta on the use of 90s alternative rock in The Bear and more recently, in this reblog of @mitocamdria's meta Sublimation and Intellectual Orgasms.

Carmy gets called "a weird little dude" for knowing how to mix a drink in 2x06. He gets called a "gayrod" for owning the Noma cookbook in 1x01. He gets called a "soft shitty bitch" for calling Pete instead of Natalie in 1x05. He gets called a "mopey little fuck" in 2x06 for questioning Mikey and Richie right before they accost him with a veritable wall of gross dudebro, horndog descriptions of Claire (a girl they know and are friends with - again, fucking gross). Carmy hears his mother describe Steve as "gay" for being "arty" in 2x06 (recall that Carmy is also "arty" in that he can draw and likes fashion). If you weren't performing alpha-male dominance like Mikey, Richie, Uncle Lee or even Uncle Jimmy, the Berzatto household was a rough place to be. Truth is though, that all of those white, alpha-males have their own demons, and in the case of Mikey, those demons drove him to take his own life. The truth is that, like white supremacy, no one escapes toxic masculinity unscathed either.

We know Carmy suffered from low self-confidence as a child which might have led him to feeling aimless. He tells us in 1x08 Braciole that he got shitty grades because he couldn't pay attention in school, he didn't get into college, didn't have any girlfriends or many friends for that matter. Carmy also tells us in that same monologue that he wasn't "built" in the same way as his brother, who could walk into a room and take its temperature right away, who was loud, hilarious and magnetic.

I think about how for someone like Carmy, Mikey would have cast a long shadow. I think about how hard it would have been to have lived under that shadow while trying to figure yourself out.

It wasn't until working in fine dining that Carmy found his purpose. He says in 1x08,

For the first time in my life, I started to find this station for myself.

This must have been intoxicating and affirming for Carmy. Yet I think about how, after all that, he could return home having achieved accolades and fanfare in his career, try his best in the chaos of a Berzatto family Christmas to diffuse the powder keg that is Donna, and still be called "Michael" by his mother, his very existence in that moment, feeling like a puff of smoke.

We also know that Carmy's eldest siblings ended up being like surrogate parents for him. Mikey almost certainly was a father figure given the absence of his biological father in Carmy's life. Its not a stretch to imagine Natalie as taking on the role of a surrogate mother, given Donna's abuse and how Natalie looks out for almost everyone throughout seasons 1-3 of The Bear. In this video, Jeremy Allen White also talks about the tattoo Carmy has of two angels with a sun in between them as representing his brother and his sister, further confirming the roles of his "guardian angel" siblings.

I think about Natalie, parentified big sister that she is, sneaking a wad of cash into Carmy’s pocket as he leaves her and Chicago for New York in 3x01. I think about her calling him “honey” in that same episode as she affirms that she knows how good he is at being a chef - “honey” being a term of endearment commonly used in family settings but between parents and their children, not as commonly heard between siblings.

I also think about Mikey being born the eldest, the first and only (for a time) to have to deal with his mother's trauma and expectations. I think about how he took on the work of looking after his mother and his siblings when his father left the Berzatto home. I think about how Mikey is described by the actor who plays him, as a "dreamer who's not allowed to dream. He has to take care of everybody."

Loose ends

Another set of incidents haunting spread throughout season 3 also raised concerns for me, in that they remain unresolved and point to a resolution or confrontation for Carmy and the Berzattos in season 4. I named them in my reblog of @espumado's post on The Night of the Hunter. For ease of reference, I'll bullet point them here:

Carmy finds a box labelled "DD" (his mother, Donna's nickname) at The Bear at the end of 3x05 and looks through it. He appears frozen as he finds a baby photo of his mother holding a baby I assume is him. The episode ends at this moment and neither the box or Carmy's reaction are revisited for the remainder of season 3

Cicero tells Carmy during 3x09 that Donna wants Carmy to call her back about "the baby" (one assumes this is a reference to Natalie's baby) and that Carmy has been "fucking avoiding it" (one assumes again that the "it" here is the baby...but maybe its also just the act of calling Donna back)

But then Carmy says something strange:

Yeah. Hoping it would just go away.

Surely, Carmy's not talking about a baby. Babies can't just go away. And I don't think Carmy is so malicious that he'd wish his sister's child to disappear. I also don't think Carmy would refer to his mother as "it" (he's never done so up to this point on the show, as monstrous as she can be).

And in case you were wondering, Cicero's response to Carmy also doesn't sound like it applies to a baby or Donna (lol):

[Y]ou run right the fuck into it.

Intergenerational trauma and legacy

So what is the "it" that Carmy wants to go away? What is the "it" that Uncle Jimmy tells him to face by running "right the fuck into it"? My suspicion is that this is Carmy's baggage. The baggage that comes with being born a Berzatto and being born to Donna. All the stuff that we've been talking about here. Its also the baggage that both Nat and his mother have been trying to "put away":

Above from 3x02 Next: Natalie in conversation with Carmy. "Its not great 8am stuff."

Above from 3x08 Ice Chips: Donna in conversation with Natalie.

Carmy is trying to do this too: put away his baggage, while having been the "Lost Child" (referring to ACA roles and the recording about them that Natalie was listening to at the end of 3x07 Legacy) and the youngest child in his family for so long but now having to be the "Hero". @vacationship's post on ACA roles as they relate to The Bear gives a great breakdown on what the "lost child" and "hero" roles mean.

In the LA Times interview mentioned above, Jeremy Allen White says,

I don't think Carm's ever been outside of himself enough to really take in another person in their entirety, sadly. I think that's Carmen's real struggle.

As the youngest child of the Berzattos, Carmy has never had to step outside of himself to the extent that Mikey, Natalie or even Donna have had to. He has never had to care for anyone other than himself, until he inherits The Beef. And that responsibility is a HUGE one.

But Carmy jumps into that role, initially fuelled by the desire to retroactively fix his relationship with Mikey and fix "the family". Recall again his monologue in 1x08 Braciole:

[I]ts very clear to me trying to fix the restaurant, was me trying to fix whatever was happening with my brother. And I don't know, maybe fix the whole family because that restaurant, it has and it does mean a lot to people. It means a lot to me.

For the longest time, I interpreted "the family" that Carmy refers to here as his chosen family: the crew at The Beef. I think that while that was true, it wasn't the whole picture. I think Carmy was actually being more expansive in his definition of family to include his entire family: chosen and birth.

So while Carmy is obviously trying to make The Bear a success for Sydney ("Syd, we're going to get a star") and for Marcus ("Take us there Bear", "Yes, Chef"), as well as for the rest of the chosen family he first found at The Beef, Carmy is also trying to fix the restaurant for the Berzattos. Specifically, Carmy is trying to do what his father and brother couldn't do in keeping The Beef/The Bear going. He is trying to embody the Hero ACA role, vacated by Mikey with the latter's passing, even though his sister told him from the start, in 1x01:

No one's asking you to.

What I think I took for granted this season was just how much Carmy's desire to repair the legacy of the father figures in his life (as represented by the restaurant) was brought to an urgent and frenetic head for him in the late stages of Natalie's pregnancy. Upon rewatch of 3x09 Apologies, I picked up on some interesting script choices and imagery that I think have been chosen purposefully to relay to us that this is the case and that the impending birth of his niece is indeed, weighing on Carmy.

Now, at the start of 3x09, Carmy may or may not know Natalie has just had her baby. I assume he does. After Marcus watches that clip about magic, followed by unnecessary Fak, Claire and dumpster content (lol) and then Sydney practising how she's going to break Shapiro's offer to Carmy, we cut to the kitchen of The Bear and we hear Carmy calling out orders while running expo. He's yelling again. His voice is hoarse like it was in 3x03 during his panic attack. We see Carmy's intrusive thoughts at a rapid clip intercut with close ups of his, Sydney's and Richie's faces. We also hear Carmy repeatedly yelling at the staff to push:

Please give me the fucking agnolotti. Push.

Lets fucking push, please. Lets fucking go.

Push, please.

Push, chefs! Please! The cook is fucked. Refire, please.

Push.

From a quick google, "push" is used in restaurant settings but not in the way Carmy's doing here. I've seen it used to mean "sell" an item (as in getting a server to "push" a particular dish to diners so they order it) as well as to describe a busy period during service (as in the restaurant is in the middle of a "push").

In 3x09, Carmy is yelling “push” like a midwife at his sister's side while she pushes out her child, the next generation of Berzattos, into the world. But instead of his niece, Carmy is trying to deliver one more in a litany of dinner services at The Bear.

Note: you can clearly see here that the jagged lines that have appeared since season 1 when Carmy is having intrusive thoughts are actually made up of what look to be hundreds of claw marks. I've noted in a previous reblog of one of @thoughtfulchaos773's posts (that I can't find atm sorry) that this evokes Carmy (the Bear) trying to claw his way out of a mental spiral and back to equilibrium. @currymanganese also noted that the lines themselves look like a neural network, driving the point about Carmy's mental state home.

And then directly after the above "push" scene, we see copious amounts of water ejected over the The Bear's kitchen island, washing away flesh coloured food and sauce that looks like blood splatter:

Having rewatched 3x09 through the lens of intergenerational trauma, with the spectre of Natalie's labour, Carmy's apparent resistance to seeing Natalie or her baby, and having just heard his hoarse voice screaming push, push, push...to me this water started looking a whole lot like birth waters breaking, and amniotic fluid flooding The Bear:

Note: Rest assured, amniotic fluid doesn't contain all those suds.

@espumado pointed out in their The Night of the Hunter meta that the song playing during the above "push" and "broken waters" scenes of 3x09 is a song by Trent Reznor and Atticus Finch from a war documentary. The song is "The Forever Rain" from the documentary series The Vietnam War by Ken Burns and Lynn Novick. I'm sure its no coincidence that a song from a documentary about the Vietnam War - a war whose veterans were the first to be assessed for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) - is being used in a scene acting as an allegory for childbirth, given what we know about how traumatic Carmy's birth was for his mother, and inevitably, for him as an infant.

So why is Carmy so preoccupied with Natalie's pregnancy and the birth of his niece?

I think this all ties back to what Carmy told us in 1x08: that he wants to fix the restaurant (and in the context of season 3, this means making The Bear a success) and that in doing so, fix his family.

Note: which is also why I think we are shown that magic clip that Marcus is watching at the beginning of 3x09 with this bit of dialogue from it: "What makes magic different is that its inherently honest. You tell someone you're gonna deceive them before you deceive them. In some way, that makes it more difficult." We were told in 1x08 what the restaurant means to Carmy and his reasons for fixing it, but Storer and co have spent all of season 3 distracting us with Claire and Fak-shaped sleights of hand getting us looking elsewhere to understand Carmy's behaviour. By 3x10, Carmy's motives haven't changed. He's doing this for his family. All of his family.

Specifically in the context of Nat's pregnancy, Carmy wants to ensure that The Bear is a success for the next generation of Berzatto children, for his niece. And if Carmy is being haunted by a need to fix his family's legacy, particularly given the impending arrival of Natalie's baby - the youngest Berzatto after him - then his desperate, rageful plea to Syd after she brings him back from his panic attack in 3x03 Doors, is even more distressing:

They're going too fucking slow!

What Carmy means is:

I'm going too slow and this restaurant is going to fail because of it. And this baby is going to inherit my failure, just like I inherited Mikey's and just like he inherited our father's.

Remember: Natalie is a part owner of The Bear and so any financial failure of the restaurant will be felt by her and her family just as it would be felt by Carm.

What Carmy needs to realise is that while a brick and mortar institution may fail, what remains are the relationships, the people that he has met because of it (shout out to Chef Terry and her speech in 3x10 Forever, also shout out to Mikey and his chat with Tina in 3x06 Napkins). And if there are people - if there are relationships - there's always the chance to build another future together, again.

Conclusion (yep, I'm almost done)

I think about how whether he likes it or not, Carmy was able to pursue his passion in cooking because of his family’s racial (and class) privilege, particularly as a member of a community that was invited to join in the spoils of white supremacy. This privilege was most clearly embodied by the fact that the Berzattos had the means to own The Beef and the culinary opportunities for Carmy that flowed from that work and experience (contrast this with Sydney, Marcus and Tina's experiences in entering this field, which I've discussed here and which @freedelusionshere discusses here).

I think about how Carmy subverted and used that privilege to bring along the original crew of The Beef with him to The Bear, lifting up his largely BIPOC employees. And then I think about how he ran roughshod over them in order to try and meet the insane expectations he'd set for himself (in large part, as a result of his family's history).

I think about the safety net that Carmy had with Natalie and Mikey who were there to take care of The Beef, their family and their unwell mother, giving Carmy the room to find himself professionally. I think about Mikey leaving behind a restaurant for Carmy but also leaving behind an entire family for him too.

I think about Carmy not realising that while The Beef was a burden in some ways, it was a blessing in so many others.

I think about the clear intergenerational trauma that Carmy is contending with while trying to balance so many perceived, competing demands.

I also think about Donna's dream, the night she went into labour with Natalie:

In this nothing dream, I mean nothing dream. And it wasn't Chicago, and it wasn't New York. It was some sort of hybrid city, you know? And there was a fish tank. Big fish tank in the middle of the city. It was this giant fish tank, and I was the only one looking at it.

[...]

And I remember the colours were, they were so sharp and vivid and neon, you know, and I was the only one looking at it.

[...]

I was just staring at it for the longest time. And all of a sudden, I noticed that the glass started to come apart like it was gonna split. But I wasn't worried, you know? It wasn't bad, because I knew that more people were gonna get to see these beautiful fish.

And then I woke up, and I was sweating, and my water had broke.

When Donna had her children, she had no idea that she would lose her eldest child to suicide. She likely had no idea how far she was going to push her daughter away from her due to her abuse, and she most certainly did not know that her youngest would cease contact with her for years while becoming a renowned chef. None of us parents know for certain how things are going to turn out for our children, or for our relationships with them.

We can only hope, and do our best: do our best to break harmful cycles while trying to nurture children who will leave the world a better place than it was when when they arrived. And if our kids manage to do this not because of us but in spite of us, in spite of our slip ups and mistakes, in spite of our baggage, then honestly, we should be even prouder of them. Because it meant they were able to integrate our trauma, our histories, and their trauma, and their histories, all of it, and make something beautiful, something better.

And I think I can see why Donna wasn't worried when the fish tank started to crack. I get why she was so happy that more people were going to get to see her beautiful children and the world they were going to create, in spite of everything and because of everything.

As usual, tagging folks who might be interested (absolutely no pressure to read this fucking long ass thing though), but keen to hear from anyone who wants to discuss:

@currymanganese @thoughtfulchaos773 @moodyeucalyptus @vacationship @mitocamdria @brokenwinebox @espumado @tvfantic87 @turbulenthandholding @anxietycroissant @angelica4equity @devisrina @kdbleu @freedelusionshere @ambeauty @afrofairysblog @fresaton @hwere @ciaomarie @ambeauty

[holylulusworld]

Very tight places - Kinktober 3

Summary: You're stuck with a soulless Sam again.

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!Reader

Square 8 filled for @anyfandomgoesbingo: Amnesia

Square 6 filled for @samwinchesterbingo: Dirty Talk

Warnings: soulless!Sam being his asshole self, cheating (kinda), smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of anal sex, creampie, claustrophilia, blasphemie

Rating: Explicit

Kink: Claustrophilia

Words:

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Catch up here: Cramped (1) & Tight places (2)

Six months later you are still hunting with Dean and Sam. You didn’t want to leave the elder Winchester alone with his soulless brother. 

Who are you trying to kid? The ugly and embarrassing truth is, that you can’t stay away from Sam for too long.

He’s intoxicating. You’re high on him, and the way he fucks you. If you had an ounce of dignity left, you’d tell the bastard to fuck off. But you are too far gone to care.

Most nights, you let him do unspeakable things to you. Dean stumbled in on you and his brother, calling you sick more than once. He wrinkles his nose anytime Sam gropes you in front of his brother.

Sam has no filter. In any way. When it comes to sex, he doesn’t care if you are in the middle of a case, at a hospital, or buying groceries. Sam wants you, and he gets you.

Anytime. Anywhere.

“Sam, what are we doing here, dressed in the cheapest costumes we could find,” you grumble as Sam decides you must play nun and priest to solve your latest case. 

Dean is out and about to find Death. Not to die this time, but to convince Death himself to help him get Sam’s soul back. 

Sam is not amused. He wants to stay like this. New and improved. Deadly, focused, and with a sexual appetite making even Dean blush.

“I look ridiculous. They will not believe I’m a nun.” Glancing around the almost empty church you sigh. At least there are not many people around to witness your poor performance.

“Why?” Sam resists the urge to grope your ass. Seeing you in your nun costume got him rock-hard. If not for the case he wants to solve, he’d have you bent over the altar already. “We look just the same as the priest I knocked out to get his clothes.”

“You did what?” you stop in your tracks to gape at Sam. “Please tell me you didn’t knock a priest out, Samuel Winchester. I don’t want to go to hell only because you have no impulse control.”

Sam smirks darkly. “You are so cute when mad,” he dips his head to whisper, “not so cute while you writhe on my fat cock. You’re a whore, not a saint. I know how you like it. Dirty and rough.”

“Sam, can you for once not think about your dick?” You growl. “We still need to find the monster killing the people at the church. Sadly, the only witness still suffers from amnesia.”

“That’s where you come in,” Sam purrs. “I didn’t want you to wear this iconic tunic only for fun. You are the one taking Sister Margaret’s place. You’ll fit in just fine.”

“I don’t want to play the next victim for the monster. Which by the way, you still didn’t identify, Sam. Maybe you shouldn’t have spent the last night at the bar with that blonde,” you snap at the hunter. You don’t give a shit if your blow your cover. Sam won’t get away with treating you like a random bitch he can fuck and leave afterward.

“Y/N, be honest with me,” he chuckles at your angry expression, “are you jealous because you are in love with me?“

“You wish,” you walk away, too angry to be around Sam today. Are you jealous? Of course, you are. Sam and you spent the last months together. Most of the time in the sheets. But last night, he told you to leave and didn’t return until early in the morning.

“Don’t be like that, baby,” Sam mocks you. “I know you love me. You draw hearts and imagine walking down the aisle while I wait for you to give you the ring.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you turn back around to snap at Sam. “I can’t wait for Dean to get your soul back. The moment you have it back, I’m gone. Don’t believe I stuck around for you and your limp dick. I did it for Dean because he’s a good man. Always was.”

“You want my brother?” His features darken, and you can see the change in Sam’s eyes. You take a step back. You know the look in his eyes. It’s the same one you see when he’s about to attack a monster. “Well, too bad. He can’t have you.”

“He can have me if he wants me.” It’s your turn to pay Sam back for all the times you asked yourself if he’s with some other girl. “Just like you had that pretty little thing last night.”

Sam snorts. “She was boring and wanted to go on a date first.” He casually says. As if this excuses his behavior, and how he treated you last night. “Come. I show you something nice.”

“Sam, I’m not in the mood for one of your games. Let’s just solve this case and we can go our separate ways. I stuck around far longer than I intended to.” You huff as Sam once again, ignores your protests. He grabs you by your arm and drags you toward the confession booth.

“Sam! What are you doing?” 

“Shush now, I saw someone,” he pushes you inside the booth and closes the door behind him. You gulp. You’re stuck in a tight place with Sam again. “Do you have your gun?”

“What kind of question is that Winchester? I’m not an idiot!”

“Good. Stay in here and wait for me,” he turns around to look at you. Something flashes in his eyes before he turns around to leave the booth. Not without telling you to lock it, though…

You’re gnawing at your nails. Sam left you at the confession booth half an hour ago, and now you don’t know if you left the booth to help him or not. 

You press your ear to the door, listening to your breathing. There is not a sound, and you wonder if Sam messed with you and just left the church.

“Open the door,” Sam knocks at the door, “now.”

“Fuck, Winchester,” you curse, but unlock the door to drag Sam inside. He closes it behind him once again and releases an annoyed huff as you check him for injuries. 

“You can't wait to put your hands on me again, huh?” Sam turns around to look you up and down. “You know,” he licks his lips. His large hands shoot toward your face to cradle it for a moment, “I think you should confess your sins to me, my dear.”

“I said I’m not in the mood for one of your games,” you pout and cross your arms over your chest. “Why did you leave me in here, all alone? Did you find the monster?”

“I fucked the nuns and gave them a good spanking,” Sam deadpans. “What do you think I did? I kept you safe. The monster wasn’t here. We will find them, though.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“And you are still my whore. My brother can’t have you,” he moves his hand to your throat. “Say it.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish I would,” he chuckles as you claw at the hand holding your throat in a tight grip. “OR maybe I should remind you of your worth. Turn around, lift your tunic, sister. I want to see your cunt.”

“No.”

“Do it or I swear I’ll drag you out of here and fuck you on the altar like I wanted to,” he warns. You know Sam is not joking. If you don’t do as he says, he’ll drag you out and have his way with you on the altar.

He drops his hand from your throat, smirking as you slowly turn around. You shove the black tunic up your body to reveal your ass to him. 

“I hate you so much.”

“No panties,” Sam moves his hand between your legs to find you dripping for him. “you’re such a whore for me. I can’t believe I found someone like you.”

You should knee his balls and just leave him there. Instead, you press your hands against the wooden wall and brace yourself for Sam’s massive cock. He’s not a fan of foreplay when he’s like that. 

“My whore.” He runs his large hand over your back, down to your ass. “Look at you, ready to have my cock. I think I’ll go for your ass today.”

You suck in a breath. It’s always a struggle to take him up your ass. Especially when he’s impatient. 

“Here?”

“Aw, my little cockslut loves having me up her ass, huh?” His pants drop to the ground before you can even choke out a moan. Sam is on you in a blink. One hand moves between your legs to slap your pussy. “Answer me!”

“YES!”

“Louder!”

“I love your cock up my ass,” he slaps your pussylips again, and again until your tender flesh throbs and you soak his hand. “I want to feel it all the time.”

“Beg me,” he slings his arm around your throat. “Y/N, I’m not asking,” Sam growls in your ear. “I want to hear you beg.”

“Please give me your cock, Father Winchester,” he bends your body to his will and rams himself inside of your leaking cunt.

“Fuck,” Sam is not gentle. All he gives you is his free hand between your legs to toy with your clit. He snaps his hips into your ass, making you cry out with every deep thrust. “I love it when cry a little.”

“Ass-hole,” you press your hands hard against the wooden wall. “I hate you so much.”

Sam doesn’t care about your words, or that you soak his cock only a few thrusts later. He batters your cunt, hoping to force another orgasm out of you to make you see that only he can fulfill your desires.

“You make the sweetest noises when I fuck you,” he nips at your earlobe, teeth sinking in your flesh to tug at it. You moan and push back onto him. Sam knows exactly which buttons he must push to get what he wants. “I’m going to fill this cunt up again.”

You hiss his name when your body sizes up. You tremble in his arms and close your eyes as your orgasm washes over you. When he fucks you like this, from behind you can pretend it’s the real Sam, not the broken version of the hunter.

“You’re such a good slut for me, Y/N. I’ll never let you go,” his words a more threat than a promise. His hips begin to stutter. “Open that pussy for me, take my cum…”

You don’t know how you made it out of the church without getting caught. Sam’s cum ran down your thighs as he dragged you out of the place you stained with your sins.

Back at the motel, you try to make him talk to you. Sam sits across you, just staring at you.

“Sam, we still need to find the monster.” You sigh as he ignores you. “SAM! The monster.”

“It was a hoax,” he shrugs and drops his eyes to your legs. “I wanted to fuck you at a church in a confession booth.”

“There is no monster?” Your jaw drops. “You drove to the middle of nowhere, and forced me to wear a nun costume only for sex.”

“Roleplay, kitten. It’s essential to keep my dick hard.” He watches you squirm on the bed. “Be good and spread your legs. Let me see your tainted cunt.”

“Sam…can you just not be so crass all the time?” 

“I said,” he gets up from his seat to stand in front of your bed, “spread your legs and show me your well-fucked and cum stained cunt.”

“Fine,” you fall back onto the bed and spread your legs. “Satisfied.”

“Hmm…I don’t know,” he unbuckles his belt with one hand and shoves his pants down his legs. “I think you need more cum in your pussy…”

“Please tell me you got him out,” Dean looks at Death. 

“I got his soul, and we should hurry but,” Death looks Dean straight in the eyes, “I must warn you. This soul got ripped apart, and there is not much left of the brother you knew…

[adrienneleclerc]

Hips Don't Lie part 2

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N invites Henry Cavill to a carne asada after a month of dating

Warning: probably some stereotypical Latina/Mexican things because I'm half Mexican, no translated Spanish, unwanted comments from an aunt about weight (for me it’s with my mom) and about Henry, spelling and grammar errors

After a month of dating, Henry and Y/N were at his place, they were cooking tallarines saltado. Everything was going well and Y/N got a text.

“Give me a minute, guapo.” Y/N said, washing her hands to check her phone. It was a text from her mom. “Hey Henry, how do you feel about going to a carne asada? It’s this weekend, I know it’s a little soon to be meeting my parents, but I really don’t want to go alone.”

“Darling, it’s fine, I’ll go with you to the barbecue.” Henry said. He put the cut up steak into a pan to cook it along with the onions and tomatoes. “Why don’t you want to go alone?”

“Because my mom and my aunts are all going to be like ‘y el novio?’ Like I’m 32, not married or engaged, in their eyes…something is wrong. So please, my handsome British boyfriend, come with me to the carne asada.” Y/N practically begged, having her hands together in a praying motion.

“Yes, my tiny dancer, I’ll go to the carne asada.” Henry said, kissing her forehead and she was pouting with her arms crossed.

“I am not tiny, You’re just big.” Y/N said and her eyes widened at the last part of her sentence.

“In more ways than one.” Henry winked and kissed her. “Do we have to bring anything?” Y/N looked at him in a ‘are you kidding me’ kind of way. “Sorry, what are we bringing?”

“That’s better, and that depends. My mom usually makes her agua de Jamaica which is hibiscus water, don’t ask how it got the name, and red rice. Obviously my uncles bring the meat, um, I’m thinking, someone usually brings dessert which is like fruit salad and cookies, uh, carajo, no puedo pensar. Okay, I got it, we can make alfajores and picarones, mainly because I crave it.” Y/N said,

“What about really food? Should we bring macaroni salad?” Henry asked

“Never in my life have I ever seen macaroni salad at these carne asadas (I’m using my own experiences, obviously). We could make pasta though and like that we could eat some before we go and the rest we take it there.” Y/N said.

“Why would we eat before we go to the carne asada if we’re going to eat there?” Henry asked.

“Ay, amorcito, there’s so much You need to learn. Just in case there’s something you don’t like, and they never really start grilling right when you come in, it’s usually an hour after everyone’s there so you won’t be starving.” Y/N said.

“Alright, I’ll make the list so we can go shopping tomorrow. Now, I know this is going to be a stupid question, but what do I wear?” Henry asked.

“It’s not stupid at all. So again, my mom taught to dress presentable for whatever ‘event’ so like dress semi formal but summery.” Y/N said and Henry looked at her confused. “Just wear your khaki pants your navy or light blue button down.” Henry nodded.

It was the night before the carne asada and Y/N and Henry were in Y/N’s kitchen, their dessert is chilling, her dog Concha laying down in her bed (any breed you want), and they’re going over the family tree.

“Yeimy is my favorite cousin, she’s a music producer, love her to death. Then we have Juan Luis, Yeimy’s brother, kinda mujeriego, me entiendes, very fuckboy, but he’s a lawyer so we’re friendly. There’s my Tia chela, but you have to call her Graciela until she says you can call her Chela. Now Chela comments on my weight, a lot more than my mom does pero eso es otra cosa aparte.” Y/N said, showing pictures of each family member to Henry.

“Okay…who is Veronica?” Henry asked.

“She’s my mom’s friend from church, I don’t think she’ll be here though, she’s in Colombia.” Y/N said, looking for her photo to show him.

“And we’re going to your mom’s house for the carne asada?” Henry asked.

“Yes, I got her a house with a nice yard, my dad has the grill with the charcoal y todo. Now if there’s anything special that you want to drink or eat, get it tomorrow morning, we have to be there at 2.” Y/N said, now cleaning up the kitchen. So are you staying the night so you can help me with everything or are you coming here early in the morning?”

“I got all stuff in my car, I’m staying the night. I’ll just bring it in.” Henry said, he opened the door to leave and Concha got up from her bed to leave with Henry. “Nope, not you, just me.”

The day of the carne asada, Henry was in the driving with Y/N carrying the alfajores and picarones, the pasta in the backseat with Concha chilling so she could see her cousins. Y/N was wearing a sundress with wedge sandals.

“Okay, when you go in your obviously say hello to everyone, depending on whether the women of my family lean in, it’s a hug and a kiss on the cheek. It’s not a real kiss, it’s more of a cheek touch and the kiss sound, and with the men, again, obviously a handshake.” Y/N reminded him.

“Darling, I know everything, please relax.” Henry said.

“I cant relax, they never met any of my partners before.” Y/N said.

“Well i feel very special now.” Henry said.

“You should.” Y/N said.

Henry parked on the street, they go out of the car, Henry helping Y/N with the food as she put Concha on a leash so they could go to the house.

“Mami, ya llegamos!” Y/N yelled as she opened the gate to enter the yard.

“Ay Y/N, mi niña, cómo estás, amor? Y trajiste a supermán! Sabía que tenías amigos famosos pero nunca pensé de esta altura.” Y/N’s mom, Carolina, said.

“Ah mami, él se llama Henry, es mi novio, pero habla inglés, por favor.” Y/N told her mom.

“Oh my god, Henry, it’s so good to meet you. Finally my daughter has a boyfriend!” Carolina said and Y/N looked away to roll her eyes (because who the hell rolls their eyes in front of the their mothers, right?) “Princesa, has subido de peso? Te está saliendo un poquito la panza, no? Bueno, deja toda la comida en las mesa que no falta poco para llegar lo demás gente.” Carolina said and walked away to get paper plates and plastic utensils for everyone.

“What did she tell you?” Henry asked,

“Nothing it doesn’t matter, just put the food on the table, okay? Come on, Concha, let’s take you out your harness.” Y/N said and placed the food on the table to let her dog loose and Concha started running on the grass with Carolina’s cavalier King Charles spaniel, Honey. A few minutes, the cousins came, there was Yeimy, Juan Luis, Fabian (Peluche) and his wife Cecilia (Chiquis), Irma and her husband Erick, María José and her husband Diego, Alfonso (Poncho), and Maite.

“Prima, que bueno verte! Ooh, look at you, love the dress, you look so good.” Irma said, letting her Maltese, Cinnamon, off leash, Cinnamon ran to Concha.

“My mom didn’t think so, que bueno verte.” Y/N said, hugging her and kissing her cheek.

“Ay, no la escuchas, you look Great.” Yeimy said, placing what she brought on the table as well.

“Quien es el güerito?” Peluche asked, letting his german shepherd, Roscoe, off his leash

“Ay Peluche, mira quien habla de güerito. Anyway, everyone, this is my boyfriend, Henry.” Y/N introduced Henry.

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” As Y/N told him, Henry greeted the girl cousins with a hug and let them kiss his cheek while shaking hands with the boy cousins.

“You landed Superman? The Witcher? How did you do that?” Maite asked. Y/N was going to answer but the tias and tíos came in as well.

“Hola hola! Carolina, ya llegamos! A ver, gordita, arrímate otra mesa, si?” Tía Chela told Y/N and Y/N did as she was told, she pulled another table to they could also place the food. Henry was saying hello to everyone. “Y mija, segura que es fiel? Como que es muy guapo, ha trabajado con mujeres como tú amiga Eiza, con la mujer maravilla, no sé, me parece raro que esté contigo.”

“Ay mamá, deja de escupir tu veneno a ella, ve con mi papá que está juntado al heladera para las bebidas.” María José said and Chela left reluctantly.

“Thanks, Majo.” Y/N said,

“I grew up with her criticizing me, can’t have her do the same to you. Look at us, we’re in our 30s and we still care about what our mothers say.” Majo said,

“Eso nunca va a cambiar.” Y/N said and she walked back to Henry where he was listening to her Tío Juancho (Juan Camilo) telling a story about his camping trip.

“Hey, pececita, I was just telling your boyfriend about the time I went camping,” Juancho said, hugging and kissing Y/N.

“So glad you’re back, love.” Henry said, wrapping his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.

“Oye Henry’s ven conmigo un momento, come with me.” Y/N’s dad, Carlos, told Henry, tapping his shoulder.

“Papi, que vas a hacer?” Y/N asked.

“Nada mija, es como male bonding, help me grill, Superman.” Carlos said.

“Papi!” Y/N whined.

“Ve con tus primos, princesa.” Carlos said.

“It’s alright, maybe it’s a good thing.” Henry said, kissing Y/N to ease her worries. Henry went with Carlos to the grilled, grabbing the tray of seasoned meats to cook.

“So, Superman, how long have you been dating my daughter?” Carlos asked, sipping a bit of modelo beer.

“Not long, a month.” Henry answered.

“You think of dating her for longer?” Carlos asked.

“Of course, sir.” Henry said,

“Ah, escucha eso, ‘sir’, mira que respetuoso me salió. Listen, Y/N is a good girl, she worked hard in her music, bought this house for me y mi mujer, and if you break her heart or hurt her in anyway, I know some people.” Carlos threatened and Henry got paler.

Carlos laughed. “Ah, te estoy vacilando, it was a joke, you seem like a good person, you know how to grill?” Henry let out a breath of relief.

“Yeah, yes, I know how to grill.” Henry said.

“Good, pass me the orange container, it has the ribs.” Carlos said. Henry did what he was told and gave Y/N a thumbs up. Y/N gave him one back.

“You think your güero can eat what we brought?” Diego asked.

“Let’s hope so, as long as he doesn’t add salsa, it should be fine.” Y/N said. She looked over to where Henry was grilling with her dad, they’re gonna last, maybe not forever, but they would totally last.

Everyone was eating.

“Mija, te salió muy bien la pasta.” Carolina said.

“Gracias, me ayudó Henry también.” Y/N said, making sure she knew.

“Who knew you could cook, Henry, and with seasoning.” Carolina said, sitting down to eat. Henry looked at Y/N and she put her hands up in surrender. Everyone was serving themselves until.

“Haz platos para sus hombres también, que no se te olvide.” Chelis announced.

“Ay mamá, mas anticuada no puedes ser, ellos tienen manos, que se sirven solos.” Majo told her mom.

“Whats happening?” Henry whispered in Y/N’s ear.

“Do you see why I couldn’t come here alone? Just don’t serve yourself any salsa, the sauces are usually very spicy, the rest should be good to eat. There’s tacos dorados that have potatoes, some are chicken, others are beans, it’s a surprise. Take one of each, I’m sure you’ll like it.” Y/N whispered back to him. Everyone serves their own plate porque así debe ser, and they were all chatting, mainly trying to get to know Henry.

“So Henry, You’re a good looking man, why are you here with Y/N? I’m sure you can do a lot better.” Chela said and Majo states at her mom and mouthed her apology to Y/N.

“Has she been telling you this the entire time? Asking why I’m here with you?” Henry asked Y/N and Y/N just nodded. Henry stood up from his seat. “Listen, Graciela, I fell for Y/N the moment I saw her, I don’t know what you have been telling her since we got here but I have had enough. She didn’t want to come here alone and now I know why. If she shows up alone, you’ll ask why she doesn’t have a boyfriend, she shows up with me, you ask her why I’m here with her, that’s enough.” Henry said, Y/N pulled his arm to sit him back down.

“Perdón, Y/N, que Pena contigo.” Chela said and Y/N just nodded, it was nice to have someone other than her cousins defend her. “I’m sorry to you too, Henry.” Henry nodded his head and everyone continued eating. By the time they were finished, they went their “separate ways”.

In the carne asada, there were 3 sections, where the cousins were talking about their memories, what they’ve been up to. The aunts and her mom were talking about neighborhood gossip and about their kids. And of course the uncles and her dad drinking and talking about whatever.

“How did you and Henry meet?” Maite asked again.

“Well my coworker Eiza wanted to set me up with her, saying she was going to be at the after party. I didn’t want to be set up but when I went to the after party, I saw this beautiful woman dancing like she was the only one in the room, she captured everyone’s attention, including mine. Eiza noticed I was staring at the dancer and it turned out to be Y/N so Eiza called her over and there you have it.” Henry told them.

“Mira eso, prima, lo dejaste embobado desde el primer momento.” Ponchó said, petting Concha that went up to him.

“Así es, I thank our parents for playing Shakira when we were growing up.” Y/N said, raising her beer bottle to toast.

“Speaking of Shakira, how did you dance when he spotted you?” Chiquis asked, connecting her phone to the Bluetooth speaker that Peluche carried. It started playing the song ‘hips don’t lie’ and everyone was cheering ‘oh’.

“Alright, alright, I’ll show y’all.” Y/N said, getting up from her chair, handing Henry her beer. “It was something like this.”

Everyone was cheering, Henry was whistling, they were just having a good time.

“Pero ya, i guess that’s how Henry fell for me.” Y/N said, sitting on Henry’s lap now, taking her beer form his hand.

“You have no idea, sweetheart.” Henry kissed her.

“Mira Que lindo, pero no sé comen delante de los pobres.” Juan Luis said, sipping his beer.

“No que tienes novia, hermano?” Yeimy asked.

“Pero no está aquí, boba.” Juan Luis said.

“Wait Henry, why did you really like my dancing?” Y/N asked.

“You want the really answer or the savory answer?” Henry asked and Y/N hit his chest playfully. “Alright, alright, you were having fun, I wanted to be with someone I could have fun with. That, and the way you moved your hips gave me an idea of how you would be in other activities.” Henry smirked and Y/N laughed.

“Ay, you’re so dirty.” Y/N said, placing her head in the crook of his neck. “How you like my family?”

“I think I could come over more often, if you invite me, of course.” Henry said.

“Of course.” Y/N repeated and they kissed, his hands on her waist.

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