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#It REALLY IS about the journey not the destination
radical-revolution · 10 hours
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"If Life is a Game, These are the Rules" - a relationship focused adaption of Cherie Carter-Scott’s 10 Rules for Life:
1. You will receive a body.
And you have the incredible privilege of exploring play, sensuality and pleasure with other bodies.
2. You will learn lessons.
Every relationship is going to teach you things about yourself, about life and about love. Some lessons will hurt. Other lessons will be wonderful.
3. There are no mistakes, only lessons.
This can be really hard to see when it feels like everything is falling apart. In retrospect though, nothing is wrong. Every relationship, even if it didn’t go the way you wanted, is bring you one step closer to the divinity of love.
4. A lesson is repeated until it is learned.
We are here to grow, and we will be given indefinite opportunities to do so. But you only get to the next level when you pass this one. If you keep dating the same kind of people, or having the same kind of relationship troubles, it means you haven’t learnt the lesson yet… but you will.
5. Learning lessons does not end.
As is often said “it’s a journey, not a destination”. The lessons will keep coming, there is no ‘happily-ever-after’ Disney fairytale fantasy ending. Even when you find a relationship you are committed to, there will be new challenges to discover, and deeper layers to reveal. Only forever.
6. "There" is no better than "here."
The greener grass is an illusion. While the new shiny object might seem interesting at first, eventually it will become familiar. You can chase superficial shiny objects and new relationship energy forever, or you can go deep by paying attention to the fact that every moment is a new moment. The potential to love is limitless.
7. Others are merely mirrors of you.
Your partner (or future partner), as frustrating as they can be sometimes… are the most perfect mirror for you. Who you choose to date and form relationship with, is reflecting to you how you feel about yourself on the inside. This is why relationship is the most incredible crucible for evolution and transformation. Your partner is your ultimate teacher.
8. What you make of your life is up to you.
You get to choose. Nobody is coming to save you from yourself. Relationships are complex things and the difference between those people who have happy, beautiful and thriving ones, and those who suffer - is the willingness to take responsibility for putting in the effort to grow, mature and learn. You are the only one who can do this.
9. Your answers lie inside you.
Everything you need to understand love and intimacy is already inside you as a divine blueprint. All you need to do is learn to trust yourself more deeply. Sometimes guides are helpful, but the best guides only ever guide you back to realising what you already know.
10. You will forget all this at birth.
This experience of life can seem so serious. But it’s just a transitory event, and when you remember then you get to open up to the joy of exploring the incredible and divine gift of being alive, and being able to share intimacy with others.
***
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the-monkey-ruler · 1 year
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I’m so soft how wukong, bajie, and wujin really feel like brothers. Sanzang is like the dad friend but sometimes I feel like wukong sees them as equals too. Their dynamic is hard to pin down.
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THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER A LOT OKAY! I know people always judge them at first glance BUT THEY HAVE EACH OTHER BACKS!
I know it’s hard to pin down how they feel about each other because they have gone through a lot and have been shits to one another on more than one occasion at the same point it’s kind of that “everyone pointing fingers at everyone” until they realize that all in the same boat.
Like sure none of them find the journey a walk in the park let alone a vacation. It’s hard work.. and it’s EIGHTY-ONE trials!! They are here because it starts off as coworkers to get back to their previous positions. Bajie and Wujing and BaiLong want to get back to their high positions, Wukong wants to get out of the mountain, and Sanzang is wanting to focus only on the mission. It a mutual cooperation where they just have to be civil to one another at LEAST and bear with each at MOST.
But that isn’t the case. They bicker, the complain, they fuck with one another almost daily cause they are either bored and looking for a good laugh. And they could have kept that up if they didn’t start relying on one another. How with each fight and each demon they couldn’t just keep each other at arms length is they want to survive. They have to start working together. It’s always fighting for their lives and always having to be suspicious and be on edge with not knowing who can be a friend or foe. And I think it really creates a kind of, “normally I would never speak to these kinds of people, but due to circumstances I have grown to know them and care for them as I would my own limbs.” Like they have a dynamic to rely on one another and shoulder the other because while they know they can’t do this without any one of them missing they also grew to feel they don’t WANT to.
They go from strangers to coworkers to brothers in arms…
I think this is why the Three Daoist arc is one of my favorites because it has this one single moment that always sticks with me and it’s a detail I don’t get to see often and I’m just glad that it is still there after all this time.
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They just genuinely enjoying each others company… they cause trouble sure eating offerings but they are doing it together.
And honestly, Sanzang is the dad friend. Another detail I always feel like people overlook is that he is actually a very cautious person and always worries if Wukong, Bajie, or Wujing have to go fight. If they enter a valley that is clearly demon-infested he’s usually the one to say it first “maybe we should go around to avoid trouble” but Wukong or Bajie would always assume they can handle it or that going around is even LONGER. Like they are gods and yes they do get caught up in mischief but in the end there is no length they would go whether it bothering heaven or breaking down hell's gates to get the assistance they need to save each other asses.
It actually reminds me of the idea of soldiers, and how that kind of comradeship is built not only through hardship, but knowing that there was something at the end of that hardship that they are fighting for. Like Wujing and Bajie experienced soldiers and Wukong a warlord they have all seen the fair show fighting but it’s in a United front that they game through each battle and overuse of constant protecting and defending and even in the quiet moments of living and enjoying each other company do they start to see each other as a family.
And Wukong and Sanzang I feel start off with really not trusting one another to even being scared or hating one another. Wukong just saw Sanzang as an obstacle in his path and tried to kill him and Sanzang didn’t trust Wukong AT ALL after seeing how he treats both humans and demons. But it’s only slowly through time that Sanzang has to realize that he was wrong all along. That people can change and Wukong is one of them, and that it isn’t fair to judge him as irredeemable just cause his first instinct is to attack first and ask questions later. And Wukong was wrong about Sanzang as well. He grew to not care about anybody weaker than him that wasn't his monkeys to care about Sanzang so much. He goes from telling Sanzang to shut up and stop crying to being the one to cry when he gets kidnapped. He throws himself in his studies so much to learn about Buddism, rivaling Sanzang himself that they talk to each other equally when it comes to the scriptures. Wukongs goals slowly change from trying to repay Sanzang to wanting to get the scriptures himself, to get the ripe fruit he wants as well. And they end up both as Buddhas in the end, another highlight of how they both came to a common conclusion, how they started at each other throats but ended in the same place with the same goal and on the same level at the end.
They really start to see each other as their family, not just cause of being disciples but cause they have those dynamics. Sanzang always worries and tries to offer advice and listen even though he doesn’t know how to help beyond that, Wukong pranks them all while still being the first to defend cause ONLY HE gets to fuck with these guys, Bajie just gives off such middle-child energy honestly always wants attention and special privileges, Wujing being the favorite but also underestimate every single time despite giving words of wisdom and encouragement, and BaiLong always there but never offers any input kind of friend. Quiet but he is appreciated.
I feel like they didn’t get along for the longest time, even years, but that they still stuck with one another through each trial made a kind of bond that can’t be just “friend” or even “comrade”.
At least that’s how I like to see it…
… fuck this is such a good story.
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fragileizy · 10 months
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me: i hate going to school >:(
also me: heehoo. train 🚂
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alackofghosts · 3 months
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letting todd howard win today. have a timelapse 👍
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stevethehairington · 5 months
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book 5 of the year done!!!! im literally one book away from halfway to my goal and the first month of the year isn't even over yet fjsksk i am DEFINITELY going to hit it this year!
#SUUUUPER bummed to say tho that ive made it to the first book of the year i havent enjoyed :/#the worst part is — its the first in a series apparently and like. i WANT to know what happens next#but also i dont CARE enough to want to keep reading the rest of the series yknow?#like. this first book was just SOOOO disjointed#it was ALL exposition#it spent 500 pages giving individual backstories for each of the characters. as in each character l i t e r a l l y told their story#which first of all absolutely BORING way to get to know your characters and second of all NONE od these characters were even likeable!!!#and the worldbuilding was just. weird. it kind of didnt make sense and felt all over the place#and FULLY felt like he was just throwing random sci-fi-y words around to make it sound cooler but like. it wasnt.#and like all these characters are together on this pilgrimage right#but it is NEVER really revealed why/what they plan to do when they get to their end destination/anything like that#and im between each of these character backstories it feels like the same stuff one person is like oh wow what a story lets get some sleep#and then they do and they wake up and they do the tiniest bit of traveling#(which is like. described in the most lackluster barebones way) and then they eat and share another story and rinse and repeat#it was SO boring#it honestly reminded me of the movie the eternals LMAO#all these characters and you get to know a little about them but not enoguh to become invested and none of them are all that interesting#and the purpose of their journey/the purpose of THEM is completely unknown is completely devoid#like it felt like there was no plot#it was. ough not good.#so yeah would NOT recommend hyperion by dan simmons :/#mack reads
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ereborne · 4 months
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Song of the Day: February 5
"It's Electric" Diamond Head cover by Metallica
#song of the day#threw together a playlist combo of songs I know my brothers like and songs I know they don't know but that I /think/ they'll like#this is the precursor to sitting on Nick until he figures out his pandora password so we can update the playlist we use on roadtrips#it's only 350ish songs long and he says he's sick of all of them so we're running back into the pre-sibling-singalong-playlist problems#where he wants to play only Foo Fighters and Mom Jeans and I want to pull my ears off and Duncan spaces out for the ride#so now I've tossed a bunch of things together to play around them. soft launching my playlist updates#we're--suddenly I'm recalling my uncle trying to convince us 'broke as a stoat' was the 'drunk as a skunk' poor person parallel--#we're flat broke so we won't be going on any of our little impromptu trips any time soon#(we like hanging out in the car and out-the-window enrichment keeps us from getting stir crazy but Nick hates not having a destination#so there's a handful of places two-to-three hours from us that we like to go. a particular beach. a really good deli. Bojangles#it's the journey not the destination etc but also if the destination has really good scenery or lunch then isn't that even better)#but I figure when we have the chance we're not going to want to spoil it arguing about who gets aux privileges#so I'm starting the playlist renovations now#anyway this song is sick as fuck. the Diamond Head version is fine but Metallica kicks ass at covers#later in the playlist we'll hit Metallica's versions of Tuesday's Gone and Whiskey In The Jar and I'll be delighted
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potatoesandsunshine · 11 months
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every day it gets closer (me doing a campaign 2 rewatch)
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elytrafemme · 2 years
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the event horizon zine genuinely one of the most breathtaking things ever, just reblogged the post with the link to it but like. holy shit this is composed so beautifully and everyone that worked on it is SO immensely talented.
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biillys · 2 years
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Don't think about Billy shaking Max awake when the house is filled with snores not muffled whines. Bruises hidden in the dark but wincing as he lifts his arm, Max rolling away until she stills in realization. They leave together, breath held as the window frame in a bedroom slides up. The Camaro starts - if Billy has the key. maybe they walk the few miles to the pool, Hawkins is small and it's dark and the demodogs aren't coming back. They're making themselves safe, just by leaving for the night.
The pool beckons, familiar shadows in the poolhouse and stacked chairs higher than Max is tall. Billy pulls one down for her, a screech of metal legs over poured concrete. He doesn't wince at the sound as Max raids the lost & found for towels. Or maybe they just keep a stash of towels, a spare set of clothes in Billy's lifeguard locker. No blankets or pillows, nothing that can't be explained away even if they're always gone with the dim rays of dawn peeking through the forest. The pool glitters in those brief moments, almost peaceful even if it's not the sea that Billy misses so badly it aches.
It's not meant to be more than an occasional thing, but Billy can't bear leaving her alone in the house on Cherry Lane. It won't be permanent, he just needs a little more in his rainy day fund. A bank account that Neil can't touch, one that has his name and maybe Susan's on it.
He thinks he'll have enough money for an apartment, maybe a trailer on the other side of town with scraggly weeds and his dealer, by the end of July.
losing my mind losing my mind losing my mind please this is exactly what i wanted to hear about after writing those tags on that post i love you 🥺
#its billy sneaking into her room anc silently shaking her awake in the dead of the night!!!#its them driving to the pool!!! the camaro probably the only car on the road at that time of night#probably a rare trip with no music blasting! just the silence!#or! them walking! probably not even really saying a word to each other! just slowly making their way to their end destination!#no need to explain or fill the quiet!#'they're making themselves safe; just by leaving for the night.' luc!!!!!#its them having a familiar routine once they get to the pool! max on the chair! billy on the pools edge!#towels laid out!#'the pool glitters in those moments; almost peaceful even if its not the sea billy misses so badly it aches.' LUC!!!!!!!#i know we bang on about billy and the ocean and max and surfing and the pool and everything that there is About That#but like. genuinely fucking HEARTBREAKING that they got ripped away from the literal sea and now#have to make do with some cheap piss poor chemicalised imitation of the great big body of water that was the ocean herself#and just. be okay with that. like they just have to live with that and accept that theyre just. never gonna see the ocean again anytime soon#not gonna see it unless they make it happen themselves.#'but billy cant bear leaving her alone in the house on cherry lane' luc 🥺🥺🥺#he just!!! needs a little more time!!!! and a little more money!!! for his rainy day fund!!!#so they can start Step One of their Get The Fuck Outta Here journey!!!#and if step one isn't california herself but instead a cheap trailer on the bad side of town#thats a start!!! thats the first step baby!#thats close to work for billy! thats close enough to hawkins high for max! thats close to (eddie! chrissy! uncle wayne!) supportive people!#god luc u fucking Get it#also u gave me permission to post this so i am 🥺💞#luc tag <3#billy x max fic#eddie munson#msgs <3
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thelassoway · 1 year
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OH, the brandy thing!!! They're playing with us so much this season and they're clearly enjoying it, they're SICK 🤣
I don't think of it as playing so much as they're seeing who is paying attention. If you're paying attention, here's a reward we planted (callback, parallel, pop culture reference, song lyric...). At the same time, maybe they didn't plant it, and the viewers are having fun making connections on things no matter if there was an intended meaning by the writers. I've done more research on random things because of this show. No other show has ever made me do that.
The writers have the list/map, and we're all just trying to figure out what the scavenger items are.
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goatsandgangsters · 2 years
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I genuinely cannot believe that siege and storm is like “we captured the seawhip and escaped the darkling” by the end of chapter 4
and then it takes them until chapter 12 to travel back to os alta to resume the plot 
there are only 23 chapters
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melivora · 9 months
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Managed to get the number of a guy who I like but I only got it via someone else asking for our numbers so I'm happy but like also I cheated myself out of a challenge
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prince-geo · 7 months
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literally pleased with almost all of the new atla trailer except as per usual, Zuko's scar, idk why studios are so scared to commit to the intensity of the thing, its supposed to be shocking and obvious and textured and the first thing you see... that's the point, Zuko is supposed to struggle with feeling like it defines and brands him before finally coming to the point in his journey where he defines it.
Hollywood/big studios are known to hesitate or straight up avoid properly and honestly and unapologetically showing people with disfigurements/disabilities/facial differences etc. with the realism they deserve. Which is a shame in general for representation and humanization but ESPECIALLY in this case as its minimization actively harms it's narrative purpose as well
I promise making the scar more intense (shrivel up the ear a bit, make it intrude in his hairline, make his eye in a permanent squint due to nerve damage, for god sake REMOVE THE EYEBROW IT WAS BURNED OFF) will not make Zuko "ugly", (the actor is incapable of looking ugly and also the implication that scars make people too unappealing? yikes) but will actually do the character and his journey justice, not to mention really show Ozai's brutality, another essential narrative tool. Especially when he's bald like hello??? It should be even more stark and intense when he doesn't have hair to distract from it and cover his ear!!!
When transitioning from 2D to live action, of course some visuals are up for interpretation but that usually involved ADDING detail because the constraints of having to stay on modeling frame to frame is gone, not minimizing, removing or airbrushing. Doing Zuko's scar right to me is absolutely essential and I'm disappointed they seem just as as scared to go there as I thought they might. It doesn't have to be gory, if you've ever seen burn victims in real life or in pictures or even cosplayers/artists who are skilled in realistic burn makeup you'd know its possible to balance realism with humanity. It's possible especially with their resources to avoid the "scary Halloween makeup" route while not holding back on the brutality of the original injury.
Budget is definitely not an issue, or "scaring the kids" considering this remake is likely aiming to go a lil darker in tone than the cartoon (which was already super dark with its target audience of nickelodeon 7 year olds so no excuses) Audiences SHOULD be unsettled and upset when they see him but not because he's hard/disturbing to look at but because we are human and do not want to imagine someone doing that to a child.
It's a deliberate choice out of the all too common fear/hesitation to allow someone who is destined to eventually become a protagonist and is meant to be sympathized with to be "too ugly" while this hesitation is very rarely applied to straight up villains (again we come back to media's historic villainization of facial deformity). It's a trend that's always ticked me off in fanart too. The boy's face was melted, for gods sake. Zuko was always portrayed as an attractive boy in the cartoon (fire nation girls fawn over him) even with the intensity of his scar which is something I've always admired! People exist with scars similar to Zuko's in real life, and should not only be permitted to be represented as good guys and/or as attractive when their scars are toned down to be "palatable"
Like I said there's more that I loved than didn't love about the trailer, that can be a whole essay on it's own but I needed to get this very specific vent off my chest because it missed the mark so hard and stands out like a sore thumb in comparison to all the other visuals that hit the nail on the head to me
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hungwy · 1 year
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if your country has or could have commuter trains would you take a train to a destination cooly without thinking much of it OR would you play it a little coy whenever the train shows up to the platform and flashes open its sexy little doors at you yearning for your attention for you to fall into its mouth but you look away seemingly uninterested and as it closes its doors defeated and leaves the station and you catch a glimpse of all the seats and handles and even tables in some compartments and as it pulls away you allow yourself to shudder with pleasure at the sound of the engine and you think about what it would be like to get consumed by this megafaunal steel block so you show up to the station day after day never quite getting onto the train but giving it just enough teasing to build the tension between you and this 500 ton beast of steel and plastic and you want to be trapped like a little fly inside its maw and explore its teeth and throat and trachea and into its stomach and feel yourself dissolve into the walls and become one with it but that can't happen just yet maybe it can never happen and it certainly cant be of your own volition to step in and get swallowed because whats important to you is that the chase never ends whats important is that it can never catch you or else the fun is over it can never stuff you into its jaws because its locked into a destiny of eternal edging unless you give it release and you stand at its precipice with its teeth and tongue and lips slick with oily salivation but you never quite fall no matter how much the poor trapped train flaps its stupid pathetic flimsy doors and coaxes you with the desperate voice inside the cabin announcing arrivals and departures no what really gets you off is the cruelty of it all the way you can burden it with human desires far beyond its own capacity to form them the way you can transform its dutiful burden of carrying passengers to and fro into a frustrating hateful drive of pleasure and you hope that one day it'll slide off its steel guides and finally squish you like the bug you are like a little defenseless prey-thing so naughty for having teased it for so long you want utter annihilation at the hands of a great big nasty oily puffing charging engine with no care for its own life just solely wholly focused on getting you in, on, or around it and you want to make sure both you and the train become so twisted by the chase that the pleasure awaiting you at the destination can no longer be distinguished from the pain of the journey and the hedonism just keeps adapting to baser and baser wishes until sex and death are a singular simultaneous yearning? which one would you pick
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imaginedanvrs · 2 months
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atonement
masterlist
camp counselor!wanda x reader
word count: 6k
warnings: homophobia and homophobic slurs, conversion therapy, manipulation, gaslighting, references to drug use, unhealthy power dynamics (so rape), noncon to dubcon, cunnilingus, degrading, fingering, nipple play, size kink, general mean Wanda
a/n: me? posting blasphemous content on Easter Sunday? I would never
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It looked harmless enough. You weren’t sure what you had been anticipating, mostly because you had been trying to keep your mind off of the unavoidable destination, but it certainly wasn’t the depressing place you had expected. No, they were smart enough to keep that reality away from the parents that dropped their ‘troubled’ children off. If anything, it looked like the kind of summer camp that a lot of your friends would be enjoying about that time. 
  There wasn’t a church for one thing. In its place was what appeared to be a ranch style house that had kept its traditional family features such as the pair of rocking chairs on the porch and the maintained flowerbed around the borders. On either side of the building, closing in the driveway, were several other intimate buildings that created the impression of a community style living. They were all decorated with various posters about god’s love and acceptance that you guessed you were going to be hearing a lot about during your stay. 
  Your mother got out of the car first as a man who looked like he was still being dressed by his own mum jogged over from the main house to greet you both. You clenched your grip on your bag strap before deciding to face the music and follow her lead, still examining the area sceptically as your mother and the man introduced themselves. Your mother failed to deliver the same excitement the blonde did, but she attempted to force it nonetheless while your hosts laughed easily at something she had said.
  You weren’t listening to either of them as you retrieved your other bag from the boot of the car, not expecting the man to walk around the other side to greet you. “Y/n!” He said like you were an old friend. “I’m Reverend Vision but you can call me Rev Vis.” You most certainly weren’t going to be doing that. “We’re so happy to have you here, let me give you the grand tour of our home,” he beckoned. You trailed behind them.
  “Do you live on site?” Your mother asked.
  “Oh yes, me and the Mrs. We love our work,” he drowned on and began guiding you through the various rooms of the two buildings either side of his house. The more you learnt about the place, the more you began to dread your stay. There were ‘entertainment’ rooms that were filled with musical instruments and religious books and music. A canteen area fueled by the kitchen in which all of the students were to prepare every meal. A prayer room that was deserted at that time. Finally, the dorms. 
  Vision wasted no time in searching through your bags for anything that could “interfere with your journey” and came up empty handed, much to his well hidden disappointment. Your mother didn’t seem to notice it, too focused on the contents that came out of your bag, but you saw the flicker of his brow when he declared you were all good and began explaining the long lists of rules that you had no intention of memorising. 
  “And we do not allow any kind of sexual acts, with yourself or others,” he said lightly. Your mother shifted uncomfortably and you nodded. You had no intention of being caught by him with your hands down your pants when he did his checks during the night. You didn’t anticipate being there long because you were fully prepared to fake your conversion to heterosexuality. How hard could it be? Besides, you dreaded to think how much your parents were paying the capm under the illusion that they could somehow change you. You had to find it humorous, otherwise it would really fucking hurt. 
  It still did when you watched your family car disappear past the camp gates and into the dense tree line. You sighed, resting your head gently against the cool glass of your window and took in the camp in its entirety. It was a waste of beautiful land, you concluded as you examined where the large field met the changing trees. There were a couple guys in the camp uniform playing football on the grass while a cluster of girls sat to the side cheering them on. Apparently you had caught the end of the game, because Vision appeared on the edge of the grass and called them back inside, most likely to prepare for dinner. 
  “Y/n,” a voice behind you called. You spun around at the unexpected caller just as she opened her arms and enveloped you in a tight hug that took you wholly by surprise. 
 “Hi?” You greeted as a question, making the older woman chuckle as she held you before pulling away and keeping her soft hands on your arms as she took you in and allowed you to do the same. Holy fuck she was beautiful. Her striking emerald eyes bore straight through your own and somehow had the ability to make you feel entirely exposed, as though it would be futile to ever conceal anything from her, including your undeniable attraction to her. In contrast, her smile was soft and polite as she gazed at you in a friendly fondness you would with someone you haven't seen in a long time. There was something noticeably comforting in it and the way she carried an entirely put together personar that you wanted a peek beneath. Metaphorically of course… but also literally. 
  “I’m Wanda, Vision’s wife.” Rev Vis was punching way above his weight. This woman’s voice was even hot. Maybe pretending to be straight would be harder than you thought. 
  “Nice to meet you,” you smiled and glanced away awkwardly, finding her impossible to maintain eye contact with. She didn’t seem to care as she hooked her finger under your chin and turned your head to keep your attention on her. 
  “I have every faith you’re going to do so well here, sweetheart,” she told you fondly then dropped her hand and took a respectful step back. Right, gotta leave room for jesus. “Your roommate will be back soon then you too should head down for supper,” she instructed as she headed for the door.
  “Okay,” you nodded and pretended to unpack your bags. 
  “See you later, honey,” she said before disappearing. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding and collapsed onto your bed. 
*
Your first day dragged by painstakingly slowly. Between meals, you attended bible study taught by Vision who gave you his extra attention as it was your first time there. He asked you to compare your own relationship with god to that which he was teaching, expecting an answer in front of all the other students who had been through the same ordeal and spotted your lies as well as Vision did. Apparently everyone did the same when they started at the camp. 
  You had kitchen duty in the morning and garden duty in the afternoon (which was probably the least crap one) before you had to sit down for what felt like hours to listen to Vision sing about god on a guitar he didn’t know how to tune properly. During every interaction you had with him, all you could think about was how he had ended up with a woman like Wanda. Had they been high school sweethearts? Had their parents pushed them together? Did he have some kind of twisted blackmail over her? They were the only three explanations that made any sense to you but you weren’t about to ask any of the other students for their input. 
  As it turned out, your daily routine was also going to include a one on one session with the older woman which should have been something to act as a silver lining in your stay, but it was the most challenging aspect of all. 
  “When did your desire for women begin?” She asked after some small talk.
  “I’m not sure,” you lied in an effort to buy yourself some time to think of a good response. She smiled at you softly.
  “You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to god,” she informed lightly. 
  “A couple years ago,” you replied honestly. This seemed to please her. 
  “And how did it manifest?” She sounded genuinely curious to know, lulling you into being unexpectedly open with her. It wasn’t as though you had anyone else to talk about that stuff with. 
  “There was a girl in my class that I thought was pretty,” you told her as you recalled your first real crush. “I felt more when she smiled at me than I did when I kissed a boy.” Wanda smiled as though she could see the purity of your memory as well as you could. Except to her, it wasn’t so innocent. 
  “The devil likes to work his way into places we could never expect,” she told you and your smile dropped. “Especially when we’re naive,” she added. It sounded as though she didn’t hold anything against you and she wholly believed you had been seduced by the devil himself and that it was impossible for there to be any other explanation. 
  “I was seventeen,” you reasoned. “I wasn’t naive.” Wanda liked the challenge you gave her. That whisper of a promised defiance gave her a thrill she knew to keep a cap unless she was required to use it. She would do anything for her beloved students to guide them back on the right path, especially one that wore the face of morality so well. 
  “And what do you mean by that?” Wanda enquired. 
  “I knew- I know what desire and attraction feel like,” you told her without looking her in those expectant eyes that unknowingly glimmered at your revelation. 
  “Lust,” Wanda said simply. “One of the hardest sins to resist when it affects one so physically.” 
  “Surely it can’t be bad if it’s natural,” you pointed out. That was not the response the brunette wanted to hear.
  “It is not natural,” Wanda said so quickly that she had to take a moment to recollect herself as you looked at her with shock as you took in that momentary crack in her exterior. It was interesting to watch and you wondered why it had hit a nerve. Surely you weren’t the only one to come into her office and state the fact. 
  “Y/n,” she called slowly. “If lust comes to you while you are here, you must come and tell me,” she told you seriously. Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t be doing that. You agreed obediently anyway. 
  “Good,” she smiled again. “Now, is there anyone you currently feel ungodly towards?” 
  “The same girl,” you admitted sheepishly. Yes, you had had a variety of other minor crushes in the past couple years, but she always managed to fill you with that teasing anxiety that never fully manifested when she said hi to you. 
  Wanda raised her brows indiscreetly. “I hope you will soon be able to give that same loyalty to god,” she said. You didn’t give her a response, unsure of what to say when you had no intention of doing such a thing. “In time,” she added when she saw your hesitation. 
  “Maybe,” you muttered, meeting her half way. “Won’t he love me regardless?” You painted the question with an air of innocence that anyone else would have fallen for. But Wanda saw beyond that and knew you used the faux front purely to challenge her again. She was impressed. 
  “Of course,” she told you gently. “Always.”
*
You thought you were being subtle with the way you kept glancing over at the couple. It was breakfast time so there was a general murmur of conversation that you didn’t feel particularly pressed to join in with. All it did was teach you to avoid sitting with the group you had found yourself with again because they seemed to be the only students there who were actively participating in the conversion with the belief it would ‘fix them’. You pitied them in a way, but not enough to interfere with their ramblings about their opposite sex celebrity crushes. 
  Wanda caught your eye on one of the many times you had peered over. Vision was talking to her but apparently she was as distracted from her company as you were, more fixed on returning your gaze. The corner of her lip twitched when you realised you’d been caught and you swiftly looked away to stare down at your cereal, actively keeping your wandering gaze on the other side of the room for the rest of the meal. 
*
“So what did you do to end up here?” A curly haired boy asked as he strolled into the kitchen you occupied alone. He was swinging a tea towel in his hands as he joined you and started on drying the washing up you had started. 
  “Got caught making out with the pastor’s daughter,” you said stoically.
  “You’re fucking with me,” he grinned and your composure cracked. 
  “Yeah, but it’s much cooler than the truth,” you told him honestly as he jumped up onto the counter. 
  “I’m sure it’s not that bad. My grandma walked in on me with my dick down my best friend’s ass,” he told you and you couldn’t stop the laugh that rose promptly. You grinned at the boy next to you in disbelief, thankful that your own luck wasn’t that bad. “Your turn,” he prompted. 
  “I told my best friend that I like girls. She told my parents,” you said humorously, as though it didn’t hurt like a bitch just to remember. 
  “I think I have better mates than you,” he concluded. You didn’t argue with that. “I’m James.”
  “Y/n,” you replied. “How long have you been here?”
  “Four months.”
  “What?” You splashed some water over the floor when your hand slipped in shock and James yelped when some drops hit him then started chuckling at the look you were giving him. 
  “What? Did you think it was only going to last a couple weeks?”
  “Kinda, yeah,” you muttered as you returned your attention to your chore. “Do you think you’ll be out soon?”
  “Nah, they know I’m bullshitting them. We all are, of course, but some of them can trick themselves into believing it, which is good enough for Vision.” 
  “Yeah, I know Wanda sees right through me,” you told him. “Which by the way, that makes no sense right?”
  “I reckon he’s holding her family captive,” James stated simply. You laughed with him easily, glad you had found someone like minded to you. “Hey, do you wanna get high?”
*
The nimble threads at the bottom of your uniformed cardigan were multiplying as your stay at the camp went by. Your fingers frequently found their way to them when you were uncomfortable, which was more often than not, and pulled at the finer threads until you unintentionally collected a small bundle in the palm of your hands that you had to hide. Vision never commented on it, but Wanda did, telling you that it represented your impulse to repress your femininity or some bullshit like that. 
  You left the threads alone and laced your hands together in your lap when she gave you a pointed look from her office chair and you muttered an apology. 
  “I’ve noticed you and James have become quite close,” she commented. “I must admit I was hoping you would find better company in some of the other students here. James doesn’t provide the best example to follow,” she told you. 
  “We’re just friends,” you shrugged, slightly irked that the older woman had a problem with the one refuge you had been able to find in the camp. 
  “Are you friends with anyone else here?” She questioned, not yet providing you the warm smile she offered every time you stepped into her office or saw her in general. She didn’t look happy that day. She looked troubled but you didn’t believe that was solely down to your decision to spend time with James. 
  “Not yet,” you told her even though you weren’t planning on expanding your social circle. Though if it was only two people it must be more of a line. Still, adding that unfulfilled optimism was meant to appease Wanda. You should have expected her to see it for what it really was. 
  “What do you and James talk about?” She wasn’t going to let it go.
  “Our lives, I guess,” you shrugged. 
  “Your experiences,” Wanda said for you. You knew there was no point in denying that when your glance towards her told her all she needed to know. 
  “Sometimes.” 
  “You should only discuss those topics with myself or Vision, otherwise you may end up having those experiences affirmed and encouraged,” she explained pointedly. You nodded uncomfortably as your fingers found their ways to your threads again only to snap back in place when you felt Wanda’s eyes momentarily burn into you. Something was very different with her. “So tell me what you discussed,” she pushed. 
  “I told him how much I dislike kissing boys,” you told her matter of factly as you tried to suppress your rising irritation. Maybe it was her job, but you hated her need to know everything you and James did. 
  “And you want to kiss girls instead?”
  “I want to do a lot of things with them,” you laid on the innocence thick, playing your role as the good christian who was simply admitting to how she had been led astray and just wanted to atone for her sins. As always, Wanda saw through your facade though that time it made her tick. You knew exactly what you were doing, you just had no idea the effect it was having on the older woman. You had no idea that your insistence on pretending to be good while knowing you were bad stirred something in her that she wasn’t supposed to feel. You were pushing those sinful desires that had infiltrated your mind right into her own and she wouldn’t allow it. 
  “That’s all for today,” she declared without giving a response to your statement. It hadn’t even been your full session time, maybe more like half of it. 
  “Okay,” you said slowly as you stood up. 
  “I suggest you spend the rest of your evening with your roommate today,” she told you as you lingered in the doorway. 
  “Right, bye,” you bid awkwardly, frowning to yourself as you walked away.
  The moment the door closed Wanda sighed heavily and leant back in her chair, catching sight of the framed photo of herself and Vision when they went on a hiking holiday in Colorado. The both beamed at the camera as they held each other close, though Wanda’s love for her husband had been as dim as it was in the present. But it was what god wanted. What god certainly didn’t want was for Wanda to allow her mind to wander to you in the way it had during that session when you had been taunting her with that faux naivety that everyone else seemed to fall for. 
  She had such hope for you when she first met you. But the images you had put in her head of her hand disappearing beneath your skirt as her lips clashed with yours, pinning you down to that very couch you perched on, that was something that could not be allowed to flourish, no matter how it made her throb between her legs. Wanda forced herself to stare at her husband’s image and remember when he used to make her feel that way, but those memories of his breathless features beneath her were replaced with your own and suddenly she couldn’t help but ponder what your sweet moans would sound like next to her ear as her fingers dipped inside-
  “Lord help me,” Wanda called, but he never came. 
*
You and Wanda both faced your own new challenges as the weeks went by. For you, your only refuge was gone. James had been sent back home randomly one night after an incident that no one would discuss with you. You had written your numbers on pieces of paper before that night, but it had disappeared as mysteriously as James had and gave you an equally chilling feeling. You had no idea what was going to happen to him when he arrived home without the results he had been sent away to achieve. Would they send him somewhere else? Somewhere worse? The only thing you could do was try not to end up like him. 
  Unfortunately, Wanda knew that nothing had changed within you. You continued to try and fool her with your illusion of innocence, reciting what Vision had taught you, socialising with the committed students and answering her questions in the way she wanted to hear rather than the truth. Little did you know that your efforts to quicken your release from the camp were futile, because Wanda simply didn’t want you gone yet. You were fighting a losing battle, just as she was. 
  As much as she despised to acknowledge it, the brunette fought her own desires as much as you did. It made her hate how much she was drawn to you. It made her ashamed of the acts she envisaged herself performing with you and how she just knew in her heart that you would so willingly part your legs for her. She wasn’t blind to your attraction to her, she had encountered it enough in her career to see it a mile away, no matter how discreet you thought you were being. 
  “I think I’m getting better,” you lied as you peered at Wanda cautiously. 
  “And what makes you say that?” The older woman inquired, humouring your plain fib. 
  “I don’t think about girls,” you said as you willed yourself not to look at Wanda’s long legs that were crossed eloquently. 
  “What do you think about?” You hadn’t been prepared for that. 
  “God?” Wrong. Obviously wrong. Wanda hummed and you knew that meant she didn’t buy it. 
  “Y/n, I want you to start being more honest with me.” You froze and didn’t dare look her in the eye. “I’m aware that you’re not progressing, so I think we should try something new. Just you and me.” You frowned and risked looking up to the confident woman, not having a clue of the excitement that manifested so secretly. “Are you familiar with penance?” You were, yet you had no idea where Wanda was going with it. 
  “There are many different forms. Some fast, some pray, some confess, but as we practise most of that here anyway, I want to try something else,” Wanda explained as she stood up from her chair and sauntered over to the desk in the corner of her office. You heard her rummaging around in the draws as a feeling of unease began to emerge in your chest. Rightfully so, because when Wanda turned back around, she held a riding crop firmly in her grasp. 
  “Stand up,” she instructed and you quickly did so as you eyed the tool in her hands. “Usually you would do this yourself, but I don’t believe you’re capable,” she explained lightly. “Hold out your hand.”
  “Wanda,” you said as you kept your hand glued to your side. “I don’t want to.” Her features were deceivingly gentle as she listened to you. 
  “I don’t want to do this to you either, sweetheart. It’s just the only solution. So hold out your hand,” she repeated, gripping the crop so tight you could hear the leather stretch in her grasp. It unsettled you greatly. 
  “But it will hurt,” you objected, eyes wide. Wanda could have laughed at how oblivious you were to her intentions.
  “It’s meant to,” she said simply and grabbed your wrist with a force that completely paralleled the softness of her tone. 
  “Wanda-” you tried to yank your hand back but you weren’t as strong as the brunette who only had to hold you with one hand while the other brought the crop down hard. 
  You cried out but Wanda used her grip on you to pull you flush against her chest, her features having turned ice cold. Her lips formed a straight line and her eyes pierced through your own with a sharpness that was usually dulled. The next words she uttered were void of that nurturing faith she used with everyone else and were replaced with something much darker. “If you keep struggling I’ll bend you over that desk and whip your ass instead.” You trembled against her, trying to decipher what your best bet was. When you took too long to decide, Wanda reached around and groped your ass, digging the crop in as she did so as though to make sure you knew she was serious. Your breath hitched as you found yourself completely trapped against the woman that squeezed you through your skirt. You whimpered, riling her up more until you nodded. 
  “Good,” Wanda exhaled, calming the heat she was struck with at the sight of your fearful eyes. “With every strike, you’re going to confess something you’ve lied about to me.” There were so many lies to choose from that when the first strike came, you struggled to pick one out. “Confess,” Wanda demanded, all of her patience suddenly absent. 
  “I don’t like boys, I like girls,” you admitted in a rush, refusing to look at Wanda or your burning hand that she struck again. “I’m not doing the work,” you continued. Wanda remained dissatisfied, striking your raw palm again and again as you admitted to your lies, none of which being what Wanda wanted to hear. 
  “I touch myself!” That was what she was looking for. 
  “Look at me,” Wanda instructed, examining the tear streaks down your cheeks as you whimpered. It was clear you were trying to appear strong and indifferent, but it was quickly becoming too much. The older woman cooed at you as dropped the crop to the couch behind you and took a hold of your inflamed hand, rubbing the abused hand with a tenderness that only made it burn more. 
  “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her smile had grown sinister and you realised you were nowhere near done. “What thoughts do you touch yourself to?” Wanda questioned further, rubbing the most tender areas of your palm. 
  “Lying with a woman,” you hiccuped, hoping the harmless phrasing could somehow ease your next punishment. 
  “Who?” She pushed, gripping your chin roughly and forcing you to look straight ahead at her as you confessed what she already knew. 
  “You,” you whispered. Arousal rushed to the forefront of Wanda’s mind, and with it came anger. You weren't allowed to make her feel the way you did. She had a husband and she was a faithful Christian wife until you showed up and infected her mind with your own illness. You had to be put in your place. 
  In a blur, you were laying flat on the sofa you had lied continuously to Wanda on. You were barely given the chance to react before Wanda hiked her leg over your chest and straddled you with a purely feral look upon her face. You felt a strike of fear hit you, however you also weren’t blind to how attractive Wanda looked in her state of desperation. It may have been a desperation to reclaim control and to punish you for her own feelings, but it was hot nonetheless. 
  “You’ve been tempting me ever since you got here,” she hissed, feeling under her conservative skirt for a moment before she lifted it up around her waist. “This is your fault,” Wanda told you as you soaked in the view of her exposed pussy just inches from your face. You could smell her arousal and when she moved to lower herself onto your awaiting mouth, you eagerly grabbed at the back of her thighs until she slapped you away. “You don’t get to touch me with those filthy fingers, just let me use you.” Although you knew it was terribly wrong, you felt your own cunt heat up at her instructions. You knew that it was fucked up that the married woman wanted to get off on riding your mouth, but you wanted it so bad. 
  “Just like that,” Wanda sighed as you ran your tongue through her wet folds and sucked on them lightly, aiming to savour every drop and inch of her. “Put your tongue out,” she continued to demand. As soon as you did, Wanda began to vigorously grind her clit against your muscle, allowing your tastebuds to become ablaze with her as she cursed above you. You had never heard her swear before and knew she would scold anyone who muttered anything close, so knowing you could elicit such a reaction from her made your insides twist with pride. 
  She didn’t argue when you switched to sucking on her pulsing clit and felt it throb in your mouth. You moaned against her as her movements continued and her thighs locked around her head. It felt as though she really was using you for her own pleasure, not caring about your own or any comfort. You were the shameful bliss she was forbidden to engage with, but it felt incredible to ignore her god and use you as she wished. But she was really disobeying him, she was just teaching you a lesson. It wasn’t really sinning. 
  “Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop, you slut!” Wanda cried out as she became engulfed with the sensations you gave her. You had no intention of stopping as you shifted to pushing your tongue inside her. You were met by the tight squeeze of her walls and felt your own clench at the discovery she hadn’t had sex in a while. That explained why she was so sensitive too. Besides yourself, you smirked into the older woman and doubled your efforts. 
  It didn’t take long for Wanda to get close to the bliss she had become stranger to and you weren’t about to let her lose that. She knew her body, even after some time of depriving herself, and told you exactly what to do to get her there. “That’s it, that’s it,” she panted, head swimming as she erratically thrust herself onto her mouth and came with a sharp cry. You moaned against her, adamant on tasting your reward as Wanda trembled on top of you and eventually forced herself off when you didn’t stop. She wasn’t about to let greed overcome her. 
  You looked up at her with a hesitant smile that was apparently the last thing Wanda wanted to see. She glared at you and immediately lifted you up and spun you around so that you were leaning over the armrest on the sofa, not allowing you a second to object. “What-” you tried but she didn’t want to hear it. 
  “We’re not done,” she said without care as she lifted your own skirt over your back and yanked down your soaked underwear. She bit her lip at the sight of the wetness that stained them and threw them over to her desk for safe keeping, definitely not to sniff and use to get off later. 
  “Desperate whore,” she muttered to herself as she ran two fingers through your drenched lips. “You want to get fucked so bad? I’ll show you what it’s like to get fucked.” She let the threat loom over you as dipped her digits into you lightly, barely enough to stimulate you but enough for her to decipher how tight you were. Wanda groaned when she felt you clench in anticipation, desperate for any touch you would give her. At that, she let the remains of her self control slip away and thrust her fingers in at once. “So tight,” she commented as you clung onto the sofa, moaning at the feeling of her filling you up in the way you had dreamed ever since you first met the older woman. 
  “Wanda,” you whined when she spread her fingers out within you to push your walls. 
  “Shut up,” she hissed, refusing to listen to your pathetic pleas on the tip of your tongue. “Take it.” And you did. You bit into the couch to mute yourself as Wanda curled and thrust her fingers inside your wet cunt, mapping out every inch of you and pushing your body’s limits. She added a third finger without any consideration to your stifled whines. 
  Wanda, as she told herself, was only doing it to hurt you and punish you. You deserved it for sinning so openly in her home and for attempting to corrupt her. It wouldn’t work, she convinced herself, she wouldn’t succumb to your lust but she had to show you the right path. She had to make you ache. With that in mind, she added a fourth finger and pumped her fingers in wildly. 
  You cried out into the material you sunk your teeth into, feeling your pussy sting at the stretch Wanda was causing. Still, you continued to soak down to her palm. It just hurt so good. Too good for Wanda to allow, so she snuck her hand under your shirt and bra to take your nipples between her fingers and twist them cruelly. You whimpered at the unnecessary act, making Wanda grin triumphantly. 
  Despite the pain, it did little to distract you from the heat between your legs that was quickly growing out of control. Having stretched you out as much as she pleased, Wanda was able to thrust her fingers inside you without mercy, attacking every sensitive nerve until you became a mess on the sofa she was meant to therapise you on. “You going to cum for me, whore?” Wanda asked when she felt you twitch around her. You mumbled a yes you were lucky she heard. “You’re so pathetic like this, so weak to temptation,” she scolded you with a wicked smile you couldn’t see. “Cum for me.” That was all it took for your muscles to clench tightly around her and let go. You moaned like the whore she saw you as as you came, gripping onto the sofa for dear life as Wanda continued to ruthlessly pump her digits into your cunt. 
  “Too much,” you whined when she failed to stop. She didn’t listen. You came down from one orgasm and soon went tumbling into another when Wadna kept up her actions, making sure to drive her point home. You squirmed under her as your body became overstimulated but there was no room or strength for you to move away. “Please!” You begged as you bucked into her palm, unable to stop the contradicting action that served to amuse Wanda. 
  “So sensitive,” Wanda mused, coaxing you through another orgasm until she deemed that the message had gone through enough. You collapsed in a defeated heap as she stood up from the sofa and corrected her uniform as though you weren’t even there. You missed her taking her tainted digits into her mouth to appease her curiosity. Lord, she thought as she tasted your sweetness. She swiftly pushed away the impulse to keep you down and taste your sweetness directly from the source. She had to keep things professional after all. 
  “See me first thing in the morning,” she instructed, features still flushed with lingering lust. She had given into temptation and whether she liked it or not, she would indulge in you again. You weren’t going home anytime soon.
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sttoru · 10 months
Note
toji taking care of newborn megumi while reader sleeps?
⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. gumi isnt rlly a newborn but we ball. use of curse words teehee
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“tch—i’m really regretting buyin’ this thing.” toji was running out of patience as he reads the instructions on the piece of paper in his hands. it was all so vague; he’s questioning himself for even trying to figure this stuff out in the first place.
the small coos and babbles coming from megumi sound throughout the living room, the baby sitting in the pillow fort that his dad made him. the correct name would actually be ‘pillow jail’, since the fort wasn’t built for megumi’s entertainment—it was mainly to keep the little boy confined so toji could peacefully work on setting up the playhouse.
your husband was so intensly focused on putting the playhouse together to the point that he didn’t even notice the little thief escaping his self-made jail.
megumi was crawling on his hands and knees, his palms making soft ‘pat’ sounds as they came in contact with the cold floor, pouty lips forming a smile as he crawled his way over to his dad. toji had his back facing megumi, giving the kid a good opportunity to sneak up on him.
“fuck.” toji curses idly as his hand slipped and his finger bumped against his own face. not thinking much about that slip-up, the man continues to put the parts together, until he feels something tugging at his shirt from behind.
toji glances down and spots his son trying to climb up on his back—the journey up to toji’s broad shoulders was like climbing a mountain for such a little thing.
“phack!” the cute voice from below repeats what it has heard with confidence. megumi used all of his strength to reach up to his dad’s shoulders, repeating the used swear word proudly, a series of ‘phack! phack! phack!’ echoing louder in toji’s ears with each movement upwards.
the kid eventually reaches his destination, head placed right next to toji’s, chubby arms circling around his dad’s neck—basically hanging on for dear life.
toji wasn’t even concerned about megumi repeating that bad word over and over. how his son had managed to break free from his confinement was of more importance. his green eyes land on the destroyed pillow fort behind his back and your husband couldn’t help but chuckle. almost proudly.
“i see y’re already outsmarting your dad, kiddo.” toji grins, one hand coming up to stabilise megumi on his back. the baby looks over his father’s shoulder, seemingly inspecting what he was building. toji sighs as his free hand holds onto the piece of paper that included the instructions; “maybe ya could’ve even helped me build this shitty thing if ya knew how to read.”
“sjiddy!”
it was as if megumi was purposely only picking out the curse words. toji chuckles at this and—unlike any other parent—encourages his child to continue for his own entertainment.
“mhm—tha’s right. repeat after me, son.” the dark-haired man nods with a smug grin and points at the half-built playhouse, making sure megumi knew what he was talking about, “that thing is shitty.”
“sjiddy! sjiddy!” the kid repeats loudly and giggles as his father ruffles his hair afterwards in a ‘job-well-done’ manner.
“good boy.” toji laughs softly, moving megumi over to his lap so it’d be more comfortable for the both of them, “y’r momma is gonna kill me if she hears you say such things, though.”
megumi tilts his head up until it rested against toji’s torso, big eyes glancing at the face hovering on top of his; “mama? mama ‘eepy.”
“no, mama isn’t.”
toji freezes in place, megumi gasps in delight. you had awoken from your nap and decided to check in on your husband and son whom you had left alone for a few hours.
and, apparently, you couldn’t leave toji and megumi alone without it ending in your kid picking up on his dad’s bad habits.
you put your hands on your hips and glared at toji. he knew what time it was and he was not about to sit through another lecture. the last time you gave him an earful, he had to sit and listen to you scold him for almost an hour.
“shit.. gotta run.” toji immediately grabs tightly onto megumi, gets up and prepares to flee—not even realising that he cursed. again.
“sjit!” megumi giggles happily, the boy just having fun as his dad runs around with him, unaware of the reason nor of the meaning behind the words he was repeating.
“mama shit!” toji’s eyes widened as he heard megumi combine the two words; mama—megumi’s favourite word—and shit, the bad word your son had just learnt.
your husband knew that that would only increase your fury more and thus shushes his kid while running around the house—your quick footsteps just meters behind them;
“crap. shut it, megumi.”
“crap! dada crap!”
“…”
guess he had it coming.
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