#Judith Lamb | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kisskissbanggang · 6 months

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Disavowed - pt. 2

[5.5k Words/20min. Read - Priest!Chris x Reader - NSFW/Smut - Church, Your Mind is Playing Tricks on You, Confrontations, Something Feels Off, Catholic Guilt, Priest Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Truck Sex, I Swear This is a Halloween Series]

[a/n: finally time to get halloween cranked up to speed 💕 ty to @magicficwriting and @therhythmafterthesummer for beta reading 💗]

[Part 1 | Come Say Hi!]

It felt forbidden to be in a room full of people and be the only one to know that Christopher, Father Bang, was a disgusting hypocrite.

The day of your realization had been Sunday, obviously. It was now Thursday, after school, and you were all crowded into the modest boardroom next door to the faculty lounge of Pinewood Falls Prep. The walls were probably supposed to be white, if it weren’t for decades of wear and cigarette smoke. Even if the smell didn’t persist, the resulting hue of curdled cream lingered.

“So that settles it. It is generous of you to step up, dear… Dear?”

An elbow gently dug into your own at the conference table. You were so distracted.

Your gaze swung to your side to identify who just nudged you, when you recalled that Jisung was the one who so politely saved you a seat. Reverend Han, you had learned, was the other young man that helped Father James serve mass alongside Chris.

That creep.

Chris, that is. Not Jisung… although you had to admit that you weren’t exactly in love with how polite the deacon was.

“Dear…?”

You finally snapped out of your brooding then, finding Sister Judith rolling her eyes at the front of the room.

“Poor lamb must be sleeping with her eyes open,” Father James chuckled. To your chagrin, Chris laughed along. You wanted to shout it out at the whole room right then, just what a liar and a fraud the deceptively handsome priest was.

“I was saying,” Sister Judith reiterated, “that I know there’s a litany of work left in the wake of Jacqueline’s sudden departure, but that it’s generous of you to volunteer and step up to take it on, dear.”

“I did…?” you murmured out loud, stricken with disbelief. Jisung patiently nodded to confirm it for you.

To say that Sister Judith’s assistant left suddenly was an understatement. When you arrived at work early on Monday morning, her desk behind yours, in front of the Sister’s office, was empty. Every notepad, pen, and paperclip was gone, as if no one had ever occupied the space in the first place. Sister Judith wouldn’t tell you why Jacqueline left, but you supposed it was none of your business. At the beginning of today’s meeting, Father James had simply said it was a shame, but you were surprised that no one at all seemed to particularly care that the young woman had vanished so abruptly.

“You won’t take on everything, of course,” Sister Judith clarified. “You’ll be taking care of Jacqueline’s filing duties and backing up the receptionist when Roberta is unavailable. That’s all.”

“What about the lunchtime study group in the library?” Jisung suddenly asked. “Jacqueline was running it.”

“You can take that on if you have the time, Reverend,” suggested Sister Judith.

Jisung slouched back in his chair, as though he suddenly regretted saying anything in the first place. “Oh, uh,” he scrambled shyly, “that’s no problem, I guess. I just don’t know if the kids will take a liking to me–”

“Not like Christopher, you mean,” Father James laughed heartily, clapping a hand on the priest’s shoulder. “They practically flock to him.”

Chris humbly waved him off. “I hardly have anything worthwhile to teach; it’s just gym,” he denied. “I make myself available; that’s all. You have plenty to teach! Make yourself available, Jisung, and they’ll flock to you, too.”

The staff all but fawned over the platitude. Your pen’s barrel creaked in your hand, you were so close to snapping it in half. That pretty boy golden child had everyone wrapped around his little finger and it made you livid.

You left the staff meeting in a daze, trying to figure out why on Earth Chris refused to acknowledge you with any ounce of recognition. The whole ordeal felt like he was taunting you, and it was on the verge of working. There was no way it wasn’t him that you’d slept with. You remembered far too much of the whole night.

Maybe it was because your pride was admittedly hurt. You weren’t typically one for one-night stands like the one you were positive you engaged in, but the idea had intrigued you enough to want it. Now it just felt like you were being punished, some cosmic joke at your expense because you acted on your desires for once and now you couldn’t get it out of your head.

Indeed, even though you’d gone to your interview and mass with only an inkling of what exactly had transpired on Friday night, that fuzzy recollection had since turned high definition and was currently blasting at full volume in a maddening loop in your head. You had tried a divey little bar in Briar Bay, only a thirty minute drive away. There were no bars in Pinewood Falls from what you could tell, so the short trip seemed worth it. The bar had been a dank hole in the wall, a cozy hangout popular with the boat crews and mussel farmers that worked the bay. You’d noticed Chris before he ever saw you. He wasn’t wearing his clerical collar that night, obviously. Instead, you were drawn to this man sitting alone at a table in the corner, with the brim of his baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. You had left him alone and minded your own business at the bar…

Until a beer appeared in front of you before you could even start a tab. The bartender pointed at the sender.

Right at Chris.

Here, now, today, you were feeling self-conscious and self-righteous all at once while you grabbed your bag from where you’d stowed it in your desk, back in the main office. It had been a long day of school, and the weekly staff meeting made this one feel even longer. Chris had shared one single flash of recognition with you at mass on Sunday, but never again in the days since. He had to be too ashamed, you were positive. Grouchy was an understatement for how you were feeling. You were on edge. All week, you strained to make pointed eye contact with this man, see if you could catch him replicating that explicitly guilty glint in his eye that he had during church, and he was staunchly refusing.

Even over dinner, you drifted, like a wraith, into the dining room of the boarding house and barely paid attention to your perfectly charming and sweet housemates. Seungmin and one of your fellow boarders, Felix, had worked so hard on making a gorgeous dinner, but you were so plainly pissed to the point that you couldn’t properly taste food. The worst part, honestly, was that you weren’t solely thinking of outing this disgusting man.

You were plagued by how much you couldn’t stop thinking of your night together. Not only were you burdened with this miserable secret, but you were the only one who knew what this man looked like under his clothes, the way he acted in bed. He was horrendously attractive. He was regretfully skilled. Those juvenile little hickeys he left all over you took days to vanish. In fact, most of them finally faded just the previous morning–something you’d never experienced before. The longest a love bite had ever stuck around on your skin was maybe three, four days, but five felt like a ridiculously long time. It was only adding to the way you couldn’t get the picture of Chris’ bare chest or carved hips out of your head, couldn’t shake the feeling of his soft lips or his rough stubble.

One stupid hickey remained–angry and red and framed with teeth marks–right between your cleavage. More like a bite than anything.

This was going on far too long.

It was Friday. Your housemates probably thought you were sick in the head. They’d been so cordial and polite, trying as much as they reasonably could to get you to open up and share a little, maybe unload some of the burden you were clearly carrying. The previous week, before you’d ever slept with Chris by accident, you were gladly chatting and helping with housework, staying up late to wash dishes with the boys and sip iced tea on the porch, wrapped up in sweaters when the breeze picked up.

You almost felt ill. More than the guilt, more than the shame, more than the way you were convinced everyone knew you were complicit in Father Chris’ sin, you hated that you wanted to be right. The way he ignored you was too practiced, too aloof. What hurt more than him not showing any guilt was him not even showing any hint of knowing you existed in any capacity outside of school. You tried like hell to keep your head down, get your work done, try to confront the pile of Jacqueline’s filing left unfinished.

It was the damned filing that did you in, ultimately. An approved stack of staff schedules now sat at the top of the pile, unearthed after you made some progress in your fastidious sorting and storing. Fr. Bang, Christopher was staring right at you, begging you to glance at the piece of paper. Planning: 2nd Period.

You wished you would move on and let it go, but you peeked at the clock on the wall. It was almost a quarter after 9 o’clock. There was plenty of time.

You would do it.

No, you wouldn’t. You would work through the mountain of filing.

Yes, you would. You would confront this asshole once and for all and get him to admit that he recognized you, that he was disgusting and immoral.

The hallway was crushingly empty as you walked to the gym. Your shoes clicked loud on the aged linoleum floor. It was disarming, being this hyper-aware and critical of your own actions. Something resembling embarrassment clung to you like static.

Why were you so obsessed with doing this?

Walking into the gym, you almost chickened out when you found it empty, even though that was the entire point of catching him during his planning period in the first place. You scanned the basketball court and the stands extended from the wall, finding no sign of life and abashedly turning right back around to leave.

“Wait, I’m here!” rang out a voice behind you. “Can I help you with something?”

You warily turned back to face the voice, finding it to belong to no other than Father Chris.

He smiled softly, kindly attempting to keep you from running off. “That’s right,” he nodded with recollection. Your gut twisted. “You’re the new office manager, right?”

That was it. This was your breaking point. “You’re kidding, right?” you scoffed. Chris’ eyes widened in bewilderment.

“I’m… what?” he asked. “Are you alright, dear?” He stepped closer, and flinched when you smacked away his outstretched hand.

“That’s rich!” you cackled. “How long are you going to keep lying? How long until you stop pretending you don't know me?”

Chris shook his head in confusion. “I’m sorry, dear,” he said. “What are you telling me? I’m afraid I don’t understand–”

“Seriously?!” you balked. “You’re going to act like we’ve never met?!”

“We met before?” the priest blinked at you, maybe even a little bashful. Flattered, even. “Maybe in a dream, but I don’t think so.”

You huffed so hard, so affronted by the response, that it could’ve been mistaken for smoke spilling out of you. “That is some nerve you have, asshole–”

“Hey,” Chris said sternly. “Calm down.”

And you did. God, you hated that you did. Worse yet, you weren’t even sure why you calmed down at all. The energy from your outburst was simply sapped out of you in its entirety.

“Do you want to talk?” Father Chris offered. “It seems you have a lot on your mind.”

Unsure what else to do, you indignantly folded your arms. “Fine. Yes. I’d like to talk.”

He nodded seriously. “Okay, I’ll be more than glad to. I have a meeting about a baptism here in ten minutes, but how about tonight? Somewhere we can have some privacy.”

“Oh? And where’s that?” you impatiently asked. If he suggested the Trawler, you’d scream right there and then.

“I live in Briar Bay for a couple more weeks,” he explained. As if you didn’t already know this. As if he didn’t tell you on Friday night. “How about Reflections? It’s a nice little cafe I like.”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, unsure. All the energy you originally had to pursue this issue was gone, vanished and leaving a vacuum in its wake that made it difficult to proceed. However, the idea of getting that confession was still too sweet.

“Fine,” you agreed, almost defiant, like you weren’t giving him exactly what he wanted. “Okay.”

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Not okay.

The worst part of Briar Bay being a “short” 30-minute drive away meant that every five minutes, you were wondering what the hell you were hoping to achieve. What, Chris would admit what he did and you would be satisfied? You would simply leave? Were you going to turn him in and humiliate him, really punish him for being so terrible? What exactly did you want here?

And still you were thinking about how gorgeous he was in bed. This still weirded you out. You explicitly recalled hardly being able to remember anything during your interview with Sister Judith earlier that week, but days later and now you could perfectly recall the cute way he scrunched his eyes shut when he climaxed? That queasy feeling settled in your gut again. By the time you turned off the small highway into Briar Bay, you almost felt feverish. Nauseous and everything. You were nervous trying to pick out each business. The Trawler passed by on your left down the main road, but finally you caught it. Reflections was apparently a sweet little coffee shop at the end of the main street, the last business next to the main route down to the bay. And out front, sipping from a paper cup in a cardboard sleeve on the patio?

Father Chris had the audacity to be the picture of serenity. His shitty powder blue truck was parked out front. He was dressed in a casual pair of jeans and a sweater. A ball cap was pushed low over his brow, just like the week before.

Fucking creep.

You nervously pinched at the hem of your top. In a move of pure desperation to hold any power you had left, you put on the exact outfit you’d been wearing Friday night last week. A crop top of reasonable length, a belted pair of cute jeans, some casual sneakers, and a cardigan because it was getting a bit chilly out. You weren’t totally sure what you were looking to get here, but maybe this would be the element that finally got that look of recollection you were so hungry for.

As you should’ve predicted, he wasn’t even outwardly excited to see you when you approached. Just a glance and a soft smile before he motioned to the chair across from him. You stiffly took a seat, when Chris pointed out toward the cliffs looking over the bay, up the hill from the cafe. “So you’re new, right? You just moved to town?”

He waited patiently until you silently nodded before continuing. “That’s Barrett Bluffs. There used to be a church there until it burnt down a hundred years ago. I just noticed that there’s actually a square patch of dirt up there. Maybe it really did burn down, except the story is it spontaneously combusted. The local kids used to dare each other to look over the edge.”

“Why?” you asked, attempting to remain nonplussed.

Chris laughed into his drink. “I guess there’s a cave on the cliff face or something. The local legend is that a vengeful spirit lives in it. I dunno. Kids are wild.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, distant while your gaze was still fixed on the square patch of earth at the top of the bluff. “They’re pretty imaginative.”

“What’d you want to talk about?” he suddenly asked. You snapped out of it.

“I just don’t understand why you’re pretending you don’t remember me,” you simply stated.

Chris shrugged helplessly. “Because I don’t? Would you like me to get you something? Their chai here is delicious.”

You felt like your face was about to crack into a thousand tiny pieces. Every single option ran through your mind at once, tripping over each other. Really, you could argue this some more, or just leave it alone… but you did neither of these things. Instead, you got out of your chair and simply walked back up the street. Chris hopped to his feet and jogged after you, finishing his drink in the process and tossing it in a garbage can.

“Where are you going?!” he frantically asked you.

He followed you all the way to the Trawler, where the bartender waved hello to you, driving you even more mad than you already were. You grabbed Chris by the elbow and practically threw him into the chair in the back corner. He watched, bewildered, as you pointed at the bar.

“I was there,” you heatedly explained, “you were here. You bought me a drink and I came over to sit down. You said you liked my perfume and I said I liked your cologne, and we had a great time, and you kissed me in the back parking lot out there in front of your truck before you offered to give me a ride back to your place!”

How you remembered all these finer, non-explicit details, you had no idea, but they were all clear as day all of a sudden. Chris, meanwhile, was beet red in the face.

“Uh, er,” he floundered.

And there it was.

That tiny, miniscule little flex of muscles in his face, his eyes widening a millimeter.

A fucking confession of guilt if you ever saw one, you were convinced.

Was this what it was like to go crazy?

Except he doubled down. Chris squared his shoulders and smiled that same humble smile. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I really have no clue what you’re talking about. But for what it’s worth, I’m having a nice time. You pretty much tricked me into a date. Smart play, too, since it’s the only way I can enjoy one.”

One final option lay in front of you, one you were finally angry enough to use it. You bluntly yanked the neckline of your blouse down, exposing that one last hickey, the one that looked more like you were attacked by some animal. Chris’ eyebrows raised in surprise, his focus darting to where the mark was and away.

“Still insisting I’m crazy? You're a real piece of work, Father,” you scowled. “Hope you're pleased with what you got.”

You let go of your top, grabbed your bag, and stormed out of the bar through the back door, the nearest entrance and into the small parking lot there just so you could get some fresh air. An uncomfortable heat surged up your back and radiated through your chest like a fever. You were nearly on the verge of furious tears. Squeezing between two pickups, you were so distracted that the rearview mirror of one of the vehicles smacked your shoulder. Fuck Chris. You would turn him in, maybe even before mass on Sunday–

Rushed footfalls on the gravel of the parking lot startled you, and you turned with only enough time to gasp when you found Chris there, his hands already cupping your face and pulling you in for a heated kiss. You barely had time to register all of this between the priest panting hot, desperate in your mouth, his cologne and aftershave making your olfactory senses tingle. His lips were still so soft. And then you remembered that this was disgusting.

The force of your slap against Chris’ cheek was more of a shove, getting him the hell off of you. You found yourself leaning back against the bumper of the truck you’d squeezed past, still holding your hand out to keep him back.

Chris massaged his cheek and jaw where you’d hit him. He was still panting. “I hate this,” he said with a firm shake of his head. He wasn’t even looking at you. “I hate this so fucking much.”

The cursing would’ve surprised you if you weren’t already plagued with memories of him cursing over and over again the previous week.

“What?” you rhetorically asked. “What do you hate, exactly? I thought you didn’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Would you knock it off?” Chris snapped at you. You leaned back against the bumper of the truck, as much as the metal surface would allow. “We both know I’m fucking lying, I’m lying through my goddamn teeth!” he brokenly ranted. “But what I want to know is how the hell do you remember so much?!”

“Am I not supposed to?” you asked, uneasy.

Father Chris shook his head again. “No, because I barely remember anything. All I know is… is–”

“What?” you prodded. You stood up straight and took a tentative step closer. “What is it?”

“I want you, and I fucking hate it,” he spat. “I shouldn’t be tested like this. I don’t deserve this! I’m stronger than this.”

These were more admissions than you were even hoping to achieve. Yes, Chris remembered sleeping together. Yes, Chris was disgusting and immoral, and wanted more.

You didn’t feel triumphant. You didn’t feel victorious.

You felt smug. A craving erupted inside you, swallowing you whole.

You wanted to punish him. You wanted him to live in that fraught feeling of deplorable desire.

“Are you?” you questioned him. A smirk pulled at the corner of your mouth. “Are you stronger than that?”

Chris glared at you, brows furrowed as he digested the fact that you were blatantly mocking him now. It was difficult to assess his next move, but you didn’t have to wait long for another hint, because he simply took that option away and flatly answered you. Chris reached for you again, grabbing at your sleeve and pulling you close so he could kiss you again.

And this time, you let him.

When you weren’t almost gagging on his tongue in your throat, you adored how pissed he looked just kissing you. By now, you were dealing with his hands, too, desperately grabbing and squeezing you. He even began kissing your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin and nipping at you until you pushed him off again. You both caught your breath for a moment, but Chris nonetheless grabbed at your hips again.

“I’m not letting you mark me up again,” you scolded him.

He nodded obediently, despite already kissing your neck some more. “Sorry,” he panted against you, “I just, I need more– We’ll get in my truck, okay? And–”

“What,” you grinned, taking a chance to softly place intermittent kisses of your own on his throat. “You going to be a coward and hide me away at your place again?” From this vantage point, you could see he was wearing a small, golden crucifix just under his sweater. Cute.

“Don’t want to?” he asked, fumbling in his pockets while he let you kiss him. “That’s fine, it’s dark enough, just in the truck is fine–”

You raised an eyebrow in questioning. “But you parked back at the–”

“What? No,” he interrupted. “It’s right here; come on.”

That made no sense. Chris’ wreck of a truck was back at Reflections–

But the metallic clatter of a keyring stopped your line of thinking in its tracks. Chris backed you up to the passenger side door and unlocked it before he scooped his hands under your ass, eagerly hoisting you up onto the bench seat. He was already working your belt until you grabbed the collar of his sweater and pulled him into the truck with you. You refused to let him lead here. If he was questioning his fortitude, you’d make it exponentially worse.

Chris wrestled with you a bit to get comfortable in the cab of his truck, ending up sitting in the passenger seat with you straddling his lap. He was incredibly hard between your legs. When you worked your hips down against his, the friction drew the deepest, most regretful moans out of him that you’d ever heard. His strong hands clutched at your hips until you finally unbuckled your belt yourself. He leapt at the opportunity, still kissing your lips, your jaw, your neck, but now his starving touch drifted down from where it’d moved to your breast, down to slip under your panties and between your legs. You gasped and sighed in pleasure, his long fingers rubbing your sensitive clit before dipping into your wetness.

“Fuck,” Chris gruffly cursed again, “you feel so good.”

“You still hate it?” you teased, almost laughing when he nodded pathetically.

“You’re so bad for me,” he whined. “I just want more.”

You almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

Chris watched in the dim of his truck, only illuminated by a couple security lights behind the old bar as you knelt up so you could shimmy your jeans down, and off one leg. You sat back down on his lap, your damp heat resting back against him but going no further. He looked up at you expectantly.

“Well?” you grinned. “Go on. Make your decision.”

A hesitance sank in between both of you while he considered this, his eyes glazed over and shining. You didn’t blame him. Truth be told, you were surprised with yourself, too. You weren’t typically one for such intensity, but there was something about holding this much control that you were getting satisfaction from in an unexpected way. You scolded yourself for a moment for coming on too strong.

Until Chris warily removed his hat and lifted his sweater off along with his undershirt, revealing his crucifix sitting on his bare collarbones. He set these on the driver seat beside you both, before his hands now wavered at his belt buckle. Father Chris quietly sucked in a breath, as if it were a long, drawn out gasp, astounded at his own actions when he unbuckled his belt and opened his jeans. You could feel the velvety, smooth head of his erection up against you. He paused again.

You pressed your lips to his temple, a tender little reprieve in the middle of this regrettable tryst. “Did you make your decision?”

Chris could be felt nodding before his hands pushed your hips down against his own. You both groaned then, his gorgeous cock slowly stretching you around him. He sucked a breath in between his teeth. “Fuck, baby,” he gritted out. “Feel how you’re opening up for me, it’s so goddamn good–”

You loved the way blasphemy sounded coming from him while you adjusted to him inside you, enough that you immediately took over and began riding him, never giving him a chance to suggest it or try taking the lead. Again, if he was going to decide to be immoral, you were going to really throw that into perspective.

Chris cried out loud in pleasure when you dropped your hips down onto him and began working his erection into your depths, trying to search out that good angle while the priest was lost in the moment. He was so fucking hot like this, whimpering under you while his thrusts met yours, with no one to blame but himself by this point.

Right?

There was one second where you began to doubt yourself, maybe wondering if you were taking this too far, but Chris interrupted you. Even though you were hellbent on not letting him take control, you couldn’t bring yourself to resist when he grabbed onto your thighs and helped you grind into him instead of riding him, helping you climb that high you were chasing. Worse yet, he pulled down the neckline of your blouse like you’d brazenly done back at the bar, except he went further by pulling your breast to his mouth. His tongue lewdly ran over the bite mark you never managed to get rid of, but he kept his teeth off of you, opting instead to wrap his lips around your hardened nipple, overstimulating you just long enough to coax an orgasm out of you. It hit you hard and suddenly, a sharp gasp punctuating that blissful release as you shuddered around his erection still grinding into you. Chris’ actions got a bit more desperate now, goaded on by how you swept your fingers through his hair before clutching on, reeling his head back onto the back of the bench seat and riding him harder, your rhythm relentless and pushing him closer and closer over the edge.

“It’s good, right?” you sweetly asked. “You gonna cum for me, Chris?”

“Fuck, hold on,” he croaked, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy before you gently pulled his hair again. “Gimme a second, we can’t–” he pleaded, all pouty and doe-eyed, “goddamn, hold on, I can’t–”

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But he did.

At least, you thought he did.

Because, as if nothing had happened at all, the next thing you knew you were waking up in a bed that wasn’t yours. It was his again. The way you seemed to know this instantaneously didn’t ring as odd to you when it probably should have, but there was far too much to be confused by going on at once. How did you even get here?

You blearily sat up, the crust in your eyes making it even more difficult to see, along with how dark it was. The bed was empty but you knew it was his. You tried to make out the rest of the room, get further confirmation of this fact you already knew, until you found your bag on the floor. Your phone was on the brink of death when you fished it out, but it was still able to report that it was five in the morning.

The weird thing, at least in your mind, was that you were clothed and alone. You did just fuck Chris in the parking lot behind the Trawler, didn’t you?

… Didn’t you?

It felt like you did. But, even now, fully clothed in this veritable stranger’s bed…

It felt like it’d been a vivid dream.

You slipped out of the bed, not even covered in a blanket. Your shoes were still on your feet. The room was a bit cold, enough to wake you up a bit faster. Judging by the view out the window, Chris lived in an upper floor unit, likely a private walk-up like many of the old houses in the area seemed to be updated into. This house was old indeed, listening to the creak of the floorboards as you warily walked out of the bedroom and found yourself in a small kitchen. A frayed cord hung from the ceiling. Following it upward, it was attached to an old attic door.

“I wouldn’t pull that if I were you,” came a voice, bringing you back to the oddity at hand. There was Chris, sitting at his tiny kitchen table. He almost looked sick, his cheeks pale. You were certain if you felt his forehead, it’d be clammy. A mug with three tea bag strings hanging out of it was clutched in his hand, shaking the smallest bit for you to see. “The attic door is broken,” he explained, not looking at you. “The super is supposed to take care of it.”

You looked up at the door again. It didn’t appear broken, but you left it alone.

Chris grimaced into his mug. “Did you and I… Did we hook up again?”

You nodded, a gesture you weren’t sure Chris saw but he nodded back nonetheless.

“I shouldn’t be wanting this,” he frowned.

You were at a loss of what to say. Instead, you comfortingly ran your fingers through his hair. Truth be told, the fact that neither of you were freaking out over not concretely remembering this was probably the least weird aspect of it all. You both had your own, much bigger concerns.

Chris took a sip of his tea. His hand twitched, making him sloppy. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m better than this. I’m not supposed to want you.”

“I’m sorry,” you weakly attempted.

The young priest raised an eyebrow at you. His eyes were bagged and red, bloodshot like he hadn’t slept in days. “No, you’re not.”

It wasn’t a denial. It was a diagnosis.

And he was right.

Chris betraying his vows and giving into you was the most potent adrenaline rush you’d ever experienced. That was the case the first time, and it was the case now.

And if he didn’t stop you, you’d make his life a living hell until he repented.

#neverendingdreams #straykidsland #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you

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rheaswrath · 1 year

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Medea - Euripides; 2.Jennifer's Body; 3. Sharp Objects - Gillian Flynn; 4.Euphoria s2; 5. Stoker; 6.Pearl; 7. The Orestea - Aeschylus (transl. Anne Carson); 8. Game of Thrones s1; 9.The Other Lamb (2019); 10. Seven Devils - Florence and the Machine; 11.Judith Beheading Holofernes; 12.Promising Young Woman (2020); 13.House of the Dragon s1; 14.Dream Girl Evil - Florence and the Machine; 15.Crimson Peak (2015); 16. An Allegory of Venus and Cupid - Agnolo Bronzino; 17. Ptolemea - Ethel Cain; 18.Jael and Sisera -Artemisia Gentileschi; 19. The Second Sex - Simon de Beauvoir; 20. Judith with the Head of Holofernes - Cristofano Allori (Palazzo Pitti, Florence version)

#female rage #cause it's one of those days #book quotes #dark academia art #raging feminist #aesthetic #rage aesthetic #women in art #game of thrones #house of the dragon #jennifer's body #ethel cain #florence welch #paintings #art #dark academia books #aesthetics

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ebookporn · 3 months

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HOW A GREAT EDITOR CHANGED MY MANUSCRIPT AND MY LIFE

Otho Eskin recounts his publishing journey.

“I loved books and wanted my whole life to be around books.”

Such were the words of Richard Marek, an acclaimed editor, author, ghostwriter, and longtime Dutton president and publisher who died in 2020. In his half-century in book publishing, Marek helped bring over 300 books into the world, including Ernest Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast, James Baldwin’s If Beale Street Could Talk, Thomas Harris’s The Silence of the Lambs, and several of Robert Ludlum’s “Bourne” thrillers.

I never imagined that my own manuscripts would end up in the hands of an editor like Marek, much less be the last he ever worked on. In 2018, I was searching for an agent for my first novel, The Reflecting Pool. Connections and good fortune put me in touch with my agent, Judith Ehrlich, who, in turn, introduced me to Marek. I couldn’t have known just how impactful this introduction would be.

#book writing #authors of tumblr #writerscommunity #editing #book editors #otho eskin

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leafith · 1 year

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Oh, hey! This Is an introduction post!

My name Is Leaf, and I own this blog with Judith, a totally weird elf and my "sister".

We are the same person in different bodies.

We control the mind of our creator which you can call with the name Dafne (ye, we don't say her name 'cause she doesn't want to).

To explain some things:

Leaf → I use curved writing like this; I talk with pay close attention to grammar and terms, because I like to write and I'm used to it, I guess.

Judith → I use this bold font and talk with some kind of word like "cuz" or "r u k?" because I don't write and don't care much. I draw things of our immagination or fandoms. Also, I'm more in this blog since Leaf is reeeeeeally introverted!

Now. Our Friends are:

@lunaglitchercc

@flamy-t

@jamesworld4lyfe

@weirdboi

@jassygay

@wowiexist0

@askthealphabet

@soulcatcherrandomstuff

@the-doodle-bugs

@in0ts0phia

@rose-anon11 or @rosegacha11

@screwzara

@crowcussion

@moonzie-does-picrews

@sophie-avocado-girl

@tsutsuji-picrew

@alexandra537264

@hearthstonealderman16

@flamy-t

@2laffy2

@ambertheartist

@fretriftle

@archerofunspeakablelove

@a-skykid

@emisunnytoons123

To be added in the friends list, you must be our friend since at least one week and must interact with us sometimes, even just chat. Hehe.

THANK YOU!

Things you may know:

I'm creating in my mind a story, I published it on March 20th 2024! It's out on Quotev!

We both are aroace and we are girls :>!

We talk Italian as first language and english as second one, but we also speak norwegian and yoruba.

You are welcome and safe with us, we'll protect you!

No racism, quarrels, insults, inappropriate content, or anything else that may seem irresponsible. This blog is for 8+ people (we don't know well). Please, if you want to know something more, feel free to ask. We Will answer in any time.

We don't have an Age, but our creator does. Not gonna tell you tho.

Also... The fandoms we are in for now are: Sky: Children of the Light, FNaF, The Amazing Digital Circus (not much into it, but we know it), Cult of the Lamb (discovering more about it) and we know something about South Park, Gacha, Hazbil Hotel and others.

Our OCs!

Other Apps

Leaf is on Quotev with this link

https://www.quotev.com/Leaf17467

Leaf is on Wattpad too with the username TheLeafFromQuotev!

We hope you liked the post...

And maybe you want to follow us!

CYA!

Bye bye!

#introduction post #hey!#sky cotl #gacha life 2

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huariqueje · 7 months

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Pears and white plate with apple branch - Judith Lamb

American, b. 1950s -

Oil on board, 11 x 14 in.

#Judith Lamb #american artist #still life #pears #apple branch

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ukrfeminism · 1 year

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Open Letter to NHS chiefs: The importance of the word “woman” in communication about women’s health

This is an open letter to the NHS chief executives and chief nursing officers of the four UK nations, as well as relevant ministers, calling for the reinstatement of language that uses the word “woman” in NHS communications about women’s health.

Please sign our letter to NHS chiefs – all are welcome to sign:

To: Chief Executives for NHS England, NHS Scotland, NHS Wales, and Health and Social Care, Northern Ireland: Amanda Pritchard, Caroline Lamb, Judith Paget and Peter May

and, Chief Nursing Officers for England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland: Dame Ruth May, Alex McMahon, Sue Tranka and Maria McIlgorm.

Re: The importance of the word “woman” in communication about women’s health

The Clinical Advisory Network on Sex and Gender is a multidisciplinary group of clinicians concerned about changes to the NHS.UK website which have removed accurate and respectful terminology about women’s health.

The current removal of the language of women in healthcare communication harms women and undermines health outcomes. Removal of sex-based language is discriminatory and could leave the NHS open to legal challenge. Full impact assessments should have been done before any changes to communications.

We call for the reinstatement of sex-based, respectful communication that meets the healthcare needs of women. Specifically, the NHS must use women’s words for women’s bodies and women’s health problems.

We detail our concerns below:

We submitted Freedom of Information (FOI) requests to NHS Digital which is responsible for the health information content on the NHS.UK website.

The responses (found here, and here) confirmed that NHS Digital had taken the decision to remove the words ‘woman’ and ‘women’ from information on women’s health issues, in particular cancers affecting women.

1. Our FOIs indicate that this is an ongoing explicit strategy that has taken place:

a. without public consultation,

b. without an independent legal opinion regarding its acceptability under the Equality Act 2010 (discrimination on the basis of sex),

c. without an equality impact assessment,

d. without any comprehensive analysis of the likely impact on women’s health, awareness, access to treatment, health outcomes or trust in the NHS,

e. without particular attention to the women who are most likely to be disadvantaged and excluded from their own health literature,

f. without consideration of how women feel.

2. In the FOI response, NHS Digital informed us that it had no recorded information which sets out the “guidance/evidence/rationale to support the removal/reduction of reference to woman/women”.

NHS Digital itself therefore acknowledges that there is no documented evidence base for their actions.

3. NHS communication exists to promote and support the health and wellbeing of the UK population, of which over half are women. It is already well known:

a. that there is a health literacy crisis that directly impacts on people’s health. In the UK 7.1 million adults read and write at or below the level of nine-year-olds, and critically, 43% of adults already do not understand written health information.”

b. Clinicians are therefore trained not to use jargon and instead use language that enables complex medical information to be communicated so that women can be best informed and most optimally engage about their own health so they can make proper decisions.

c. This necessitates clear simple messaging to ensure health literature correctly targets the female population it is designed for; women must recognise the information targeted at them.

d. It should be easy to understand (in particular, the NHS guide to inclusive language stipulates to include sex when relevant in health information).

4. If sex is omitted, female patients may not fully understand that the literature relates to them or their own clinical risks.

This then influences whether they will seek further advice or access to necessary clinical care. This jeopardises women’s health.

5. Clear, unambiguous healthcare messaging that targets women is life-saving

e.g. cancer where symptoms can be ambiguous. Early recognition and presentation by women is essential for survival, reduces morbidity, burden of treatment and lowers NHS costs. Using cervical cancer as a worked example, previous research suggests 40% of women do not know they have a cervixand 21% of women over 50 don’t know that screening reduces risk of cervical cancer. Women’s awareness and uptake of cervical screening has been on the wane.

Despite this, NHS.UK has removed clear sex based language to support women’s health for cervical cancer and in other women only conditions, but not for men’s health.

6. Disparity between NHS.UK health information offered to men and women is unjustified discrimination.

It results in lower quality, less effective health information communicated to women.

The only cancer affecting men specifically where the word “men” was removed was the updated section on penile cancer. Of all the forms of cancer affecting men, penile cancer is the least likely to cause confusion about whom or what part of the body it is affecting.

Therefore the risk that men might misunderstand the information is minimal. In the far more common male cancers words for men have not been removed.

7. For instance, the pages on the main male reproductive system cancers prostate and testicular – use the word ‘men’ liberally and support videos to ensure clarity of message and targeting of the correct patient population.

For example the video on prostate cancer says: “Prostate cancer is the commonest cancer in men in the UK“. In contrast, the pages on the three main gynaecological cancers – cervical, uterine, ovarian – have virtually eliminated the words ‘woman’ and ’women’ and there are no corresponding videos. Similarly, many of the pages on pregnancy and miscarriage have replaced the words ‘woman’ and ‘women’, with ‘you’, ‘people’ or ‘person’.

It is important that this high quality healthcare messaging for men remains and is safeguarded. We reference the discrepancies to demonstrate that this is an ideological decision, which has no place in health care communication. This ideological approach seems to have blinkered those responsible from looking at this from an evidence base, or from considering the possible harmful impact on women.

8. This is in direct conflict with the Women’s Health Strategy for England,

which states:

“Language matters. Concern has been raised about removing language around biological sex and women – for example, referring to ‘pregnant people’. Such an approach has the potential for unintended adverse health consequences. The government has been clear that we must not countenance the erasure of women from our public discourse or our legislation.

We will work with NHS bodies to ensure that women are properly represented in communications and guidance, and that there is appropriate use of sex-specific language to communicate matters that relate to women’s and men’s individual health issues, and their different biological needs.”

9. The new language excludes and discriminates against women protected under the Equality Act (2010)

e.g. those with a learning disability and those whose first language is not English, who were previously likely to recognise the word ‘women’ and that the health literature as relating to them, but not the new iteration of ‘anyone with a cervix’.

10. Importantly, this renders women’s health literature inaccurate and confusing

For example, 9 out of 10 of the symptoms listed on the symptoms page for Ovarian Cancer could occur in both men and women. The reframing of language excludes some affected women from the conditions discussed. For example, women who have had oophorectomies due to ovarian cancer remain affected by the disease but are no longer included by a phrase like ‘anyone with ovaries’. This studious avoidance of reference to women, even in relation to getting pregnant, leads to healthcare content that is nonsensical to the public. For example, “If you are under 40 and have regular sex without using contraception, there is an 8 in 10 chance you will get pregnant within 1 year” by definition includes men in the potential for pregnancy.

Further discussion about the adverse consequences of this removal of women’s words in relation to pregnancy and motherhood can be found here.

11. The obfuscation and erasure of language around women and girls appears to be part of a wider pattern across the NHS.UK website

It affects other women-specific health issues such as menopause and menstruation.

12. Notably, items updated since around the latter half of 2021 usually have little or no mention of ‘woman’ or ‘women’, whereas those from before that time often do

For instance, information such as Period Pain, Stopped or Missed Periods and Premenstrual Syndrome (all last reviewed prior to late 2021) use the words women and girls repeatedly. However, the page Heavy Periods (reviewed November 2021) fails to mention women and girls at all. Similarly, Early Menopause (reviewed February 2021) uses the word ‘women’ several times, whereas Menopause(reviewed May 2022) uses not a single instance of ‘women’ anywhere in the overview or symptoms sections.

13. NHS.UK healthcare messaging shows a lack of concern for women, is disrespectful and insults women

Importantly, it is considered misogynistic by many. It negates the pivotal role of communication in improving women’s health and undermines trust in the NHS. Language such as ‘people with a vagina’ is dehumanising and reduces women and girls to body parts, such as genitalia. Given many women already feel ashamed about their bodies, such messaging perpetuates such negative attitudes.

Inclusivity

14: The FOIs submitted to NHS Digital highlight that the recent changes in language stem from a desire to be “inclusive”

This has taken precedence over integrity, evidence based care and clarity of communication.

16. Historically, women’s health care needs have been neglected by the scientific and medical professions; female anatomy, physiology and health conditions are still under-researched due to a pervasive bias of the male-as-default

This is now recognised and efforts are being made to remedy this historic imbalance to improve medical knowledge relating to the female body and women’s health outcomes. When the NHS obscures the language of women in health care communications this only serves to undo recent attempts to recognise the importance of knowledge and understanding of women’s specific health care needs, in order to improve health outcomes for women.

17. Trusted sources of health information such as the NHS must support health literacy, understanding and patient confidence, not undermine them

The value and purpose of the NHS.UK website is so the public can access useful, scientifically accurate and clear health information. Health care professionals wish to signpost their patients to helpful materials, and need to be confident in the quality of those materials.

Women and men have distinct health care issues and needs. How can women trust a health service that renders women nameless and instead defines women as individual body parts?

In the FOI response, NHS Digital said it planned to make further changes to language about women’s and men’s health care issues as part of its work to improve its content.

We call for a full reinstatement of sex-specific language to communicate to women about their health care issues, across all NHS communications. We’ve invited those who share our concerns to sign this open letter too. The NHS must use women’s words for women’s bodies and women’s health problems, and reverse the well-meaning but obfuscating and insulting changes to NHS.UK over recent years. For any future changes we request you do full equality impact assessments,with proper consideration of consequential harms.

We would appreciate the chance to discuss our concerns with you. To arrange a meeting with representatives of the signatories, please email the Clinical Advisory Network on Sex and Gender.

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vikingsbigbang · 11 months

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Let's Round 'em Up!

We'd like to apologize for the small delay in our round-up post. We have now collected every fic, teaser and art in one handy post for you to find! Take a dive in (beneath the 'readmore') and please leave our writers and artists some love!

1. The Shepperd and The Lamb by @heavenlymorals, art by @nothingtolosebutweight

Category: Gen Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Word count: 9,3k Warnings: none Summary: Instead of honoring their promise of sending the young heathen, Ivar, back to Norway, the royal family instead put him under the care of the warrior bishop, Bishop Heahmund, to shed his heathen ways.

2. Strife within London by @emma-ofnormandy, art by @therealvikingstrash

Category: F/M Rating: Mature Word count: 11,2k Warnings: none Summary: Determined to prove those closest to the crown are responsible for the shrinking coffers in London, Emma brings the evidence she has gathered to Canute’s attention, expecting they both would come together and make a plan. Instead, she is reminded that London has not changed as much as she had thought under the reign of her second husband and it will take a certain touch to mend the bridge that was burned.

Author's promo can be found here!

3. The Lost Daughter by @northernxstories, art by @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog

Category: F/M Rating: Explicit Word count: 22,5k Warnings: Character Death, Pandemic Summary: In this modern AU, Angrboda was lost to her family when a pandemic swept the world shortly after her fifth birthday. They became trapped on opposite sides of the wall that cut off the territory of Kattegat from the rest of the world. One of a dozen Sealed Territories around the world, Kattegat is assumed to be a dead city almost two decades later. When a team of scientists plan to breach the wall, Angrboda or Bodi as she is now known, schemes her way into the group with the help of her adopted sister, Sumi, and in order to do so, Bodi must hide her connection to the community. Once there, Kattegat is nothing like she expected. Faced with new information and unexpected connections, Bodi must decide if she'll remain true to the life she has built or find her home in Kattegat once again.

Author's promo can be found here!

4. veild the pole by @cerberusian, art by @nothingtolosebutweight

Category: M/M Rating: Explicit Word count: 6k Warnings: Dub-Con, Violence, Incest Summary: He thought he was dreaming when Ubbe came in. Ubbe had no reason to be here, except that Hvitserk wanted him here; so he must be a figment of Hvitserk's imagination.

5. Down With The Dust by @ulfrsmal, art by @underragingwaves

Category: M/M Rating: Explicit Word count: 11.5k Warnings: Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, consent issues Summary: Stranded in Constantinople and in dire need of money to return to Norway and claim what was rightfully his, Harald hadn’t thought twice before pitching this idea to Leif – there were few things more delectable than admiring the raw power in his half-naked Greenlander – yet now Harald could see what bubbling rage could do… and started to doubt whether this had been a good idea after all.

Author's promo can be found here!

6. Pale On Pale by @bouncehousedemons, art by @therealvikingstrash

Category: F/F Rating: Explicit Word count: 6k Warnings: Violence, Gore, Character Death, cannibalism Summary: Kwenthrith does not remember going into the woods. She simply remembers waking up with an insatiable blood lust and a peculiar feeling that she is something "other". What Kwenthrith is not aware of is that she is now a succubus. It will take the deaths of many men and the ultimate test of her friendship with Judith before she realises she must either seek salvation or learn to live with her curse.

Author's promo can be found here!

7. Seafarer by @sigridsdottir, art by @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog

Category: F/M Rating: General Audiences Word count: 3,2k Warnings: none Summary: One day Ubbe's childhood companion realizes that perhaps she feels more for him than she originally thought and only when they are separated do they see how desperately they need one another.

#vikings #vikings: valhalla #vbb23 #vikingsbigbang23 #fandom event

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queermediastudies · 1 year

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God's Own Country: A Happy Ending for Gay Film

In Yorkshire, northern England, 24-year-old Johnny Saxby lives with his father, Martin, and grandmother, Deirdre, and runs a family farm together. Johnny has to do endless farm work day in and day out, so in his free time, he often numbs himself with alcohol and sex. One day, a Romanian migrant worker, Gheorghe Ionescu, was hired by Martin to help with the busy lambing season. Johnny does not get along well with this quiet and handsome 27-year-old young man until one day he tackles Johnny to the ground and warns Johnny not to call him "gypsy" again. On the next day, they have a rough and passionate sex in the dirt and later gradually become closer. When Martin suffers a second stroke, Johnny realizes the responsibility of running the farm falls entirely on his shoulders. He asks Gheorghe if he can stay with him and maintain the farm together, but Gheorghe believes if they cannot redefine their relationship, this plan will not survive. Johnny then gets upset and drinks to excess and has a random sex with another man, which is found out later by Gheorghe, so Gheorghe leaves the farm with sorrow and anger. But in the end, Johnny brings Gheorghe back and Gheorghe moves into the house from the original caravan.

The above description is about the British film God's Own Country, written and directed by Francis Lee in 2017, which won the world cinema directing award at the 2017 Sundance Film Festival as the only UK-based production. This film is partly based on Lee's own experience, who is a gay people used to live in Yorkshire. As an uncommon gay film with a happy ending, God's Own Country expands queer media territory into the countryside and migrants. While God's Own Country presents a new perspective to view gay people, it also reinforces problematic narratives through its depiction of traditional masculinity, representation of migrant, and "normalization" of gay identity. With three main themes presented, this review post also discusses the connection between masculinity and gender performativity, migrant and intersectionality, and gay identity and homonormativity.

From the character setting, and storyline, to the environment, God's Own Country is permeated with a traditional and binary "masculinity". The protagonist, Johnny, is a young sheep farmer living in the Yorkshire countryside who often engages in binge drinking and furtive casual sex. When he finds the one he wants to stay with (Gheorghe), he messes up since he does not know how to deal with this romantic relationship. And when he tries to bring Gheorghe back, it seems very difficult for him to express his apology. The depiction of such character is easily connected to a kind of traditional "masculinity" that is unemotional, violent, strong, high self-esteem, etc. Or, to put it in another way, an aggressive young man lives in a wild farm who does now know how to start an emotional communication.

Judith Butler (2006) argues that "there is no gender identity behind the expressions of gender; that identity is performatively constituted by the very 'expressions' that are said to be its results" (p. 34). In other words, "our gender is our expressions and behaviours (rather than those expressions and behaviours being the result of some underlying gender identity)" (Barker & Scheele 2016, p.79). People's gender then is more like an expression that is believed to be appropriate and correct within their cultural environment rather than a fixed nature within their bodies. In this sense, the masculinity of Johnny is more like an "intelligible" way to perform within his condition - a young sheep farmer in the countryside. The "good" thing may be Johnny, as a gay man, is not depicted in a stigmatized or stereotypical way that happens in many shows, but its depiction seems to reinforce the binary understanding of gender.

youtube

God's Own Country was released in 2017, which coincides UK's attempt of withdrawing from the European Union. Gheorghe, as a Romanian migrant worker in the film echoes the issue of migrants in Britain. Both as gay men, the nation, race, and class of Gheorghe is quite different from that of Johnny. Such demographic factors are greatly influencing the way Gheorghe interacts with Johnny who is a white, work-class, native British. When they first met, Johnny called Gheorghe a "gypsy". Later when they are in the bar, a white racist there also deliberately teases Gheorghe because of his identity.

Intersectionality refers to the overlapping of social categorization and how it is linked to the interconnected oppression. Doty (1993) also argues that cultural factors such as "class, ethnicity, gender, occupation, education, and religious, national, and regional allegiances influence our identity construction" and "can exert influences difficult to separate from the development of our identities queers" (p. 5). Although Gheorghe's identity of being gay does not bring him too much direct discrimination in the film, his race and class affect how he interact with Johnny and other people (such as the white racist in the bar mentioned above). And Gheorghe's conflict with Johnny is raised due to his identity, i.e. how Gheorghe as a Romanian migrant worker has a romantic gay relationship with a white, British farmer.

Moreover, how the film represents Gheorghe and his relationship with Johnny is also problematic. "The formal axe around which the film functions is the act of looking and being looked at, in particular the suspicious staring of the foreign 'outsider' by the white 'insider'" (Williams 2020, p.77). That is to say, the presentation of a Romanian migrant is from the viewpoint of a white British man. Although Gheorghe as a migrant seems to be depicted as the "savior" of British white man Johnny, Gheorghe's intersectional identity is actually not fully represented but more portrayed as the support or supplement of the main white character. For example, it is Gheorghe who saves Johnny from the heavy workload and mental loneliness, and teaches him how to "love" someone instead of just having brutal sex.

Unlike Brokeback Mountain (2005) or Boys Don't Cry (1999), queer characters do not struggle too much with their identity and social discrimination in God's Own Country. The gay identity of Johnny and Gheorghe seems to be very "natural" and "ordinary". Even when Deirdre, Johnny's Grandmother, finds a used condom in Johnny's room and realizes that her grandson may have sex with another man Gheorghe, she only emphasizes to Johnny that "he is only here to work". Johnny's family seems to accept their gay identity and relationship very well, or in another way, their gay identity and relationship are somehow "normalized" in the film. Furthermore, within their own relationship, Gheorghe is depicted as a gentle lover who is trying to tame his aggressive partner. And their relationship from the hostile beginning to the happy ending is very similar to traditional Hollywood romantic heterosexual films.

Homonormativity "is a politics that does not contest dominant heteronormative assumptions and institutions, but upholds and sustains them, while promising the possibility of a demobilized gay constituency and a privatized, depoliticized gay culture anchored in domesticity and consumption" (Duggan 2002, p. 50). In other words, although gay people may seem to be accepted and included in the mainstream or heteronormativity dominated system, they are actually framed and hidden under the heteronormativity and thus lose their identity. Although it may be good that the gay identity and relationship of Johnny and Gheorghe are treated as nothing special, the essence behind that may be the gay culture is depoliticized and thus loses its nature of being gay. Even gay couples may no longer be depicted as gay couples but heterosexual couples.

As an Asian, heterosexual college student, I may not be able to resonate with the film too much. Probably the scene where Gheorghe is discriminated against by a white racist can trigger some of the experiences around me. And although this film tells a story of a gay couple, the way this film puts their relationship yet is quite "familiar" to me, because of the last point I discussed above (homonormativity).

Originally, the explicit sex scene in this film makes me feel a little bit "awkward" and I feel like such scene is not very necessary. However, my knowledge in queer media studies makes me reconsider the role of sex in this film and I find that it is actually very "meaningful". Johnny used to be very aggressive in sex, but after the "tameness" of Gheorghe, Johnny gradually enjoys the touch and understands that there can be "love" (or emotion) in sex instead of just fulfilling the sexual needs. That is to say, the sex scene in this film actually sees the growth of a young man, the understanding of love, and the finding of oneself.

--- Miles

References

Barker, M. & Scheele, J. (2016). Section on Butler. In Queer a graphic history (pp. 73-83). Icon Books.

Butler, J. (2006). Identity, sex and the metaphysics of substance. In Gender trouble: Feminism and the subversion of identity (pp. 22-34). Routledge.

Doty, A. (1993). There's something queer here. In Making things perfectly queer (pp. 1-16). University of Minnesota Press.

Duggan, L. (2003). Equality, Inc. In The twilight of equality: Neoliberalism, cultural politics, and the attack on democracy (pp. 43-66). Beacon Press.

Williams J. (2020). Queering the cinematic field: Migrant love and rural beauty in God's Own Country (2017) and A Moment in the Reeds (2017). In Queering the migrant in contemporary European cinema (pp. 72-86). Routledge.

#QueerMedia #movie review #god's own country #gender performance #intersectionality #homonormativity #josh o'connor #alec secăreanu #Youtube

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