#sc christian

[midnightsun-if]

OKAY NO I CANT TAKE THAT HURT. follow up (if you're up to! don't feel pressured to continue) if the mc survived the near death experience, waking up after a few days after this supposed.. uh.. war? Attack? how would the ros react? + how would the family react?

Follow up to this ask!

Everything comes back into focus abruptly, a sharp intake of breath, as if your lungs, that hadn’t truly needed oxygen for decades, were suddenly pressed to feel something natural. A reminder that you were alive, however arbitrary that word may mean when it involves your situation, and alerting the individual that had been slumped next to your bedside to the development.

A familiar gaze, filled with nothing short of relief, settles across your form like a warm embrace after spending so long in the dark, surrounded by nothing but an icy chilliness.

Koda: “You’re awake.” Large hands gently cradle your face, his soft expression speaking more than he could ever say. Shifting closer, Koda nuzzles his nose against yours, a sharp breath of relief leaving him at the feeling of your responding action, while a beaming grin stretched across his lips. “I knew you were going to be okay. I knew that everything would work out okay.” He gently trails his fingers down your cheek. “I’m not going to wait any longer to do what I’ve been wanting to do. W-Would you like to meet my family?” Whiskey brown eyes widen slightly, hope sparkling like gems within them. “I’ve wanted them to meet the man I’ve fallen in love with for a long time. I-I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Scarlett: She doesn’t move, doesn’t even shift a minuscule amount, reminiscent of a statue as emerald green eyes seemingly take you in. Soaking up everything that they could see. Within the next moment, as if she’s finally settled on something within her mind, she’s on the bed next to you, nestled into your side as she wraps her arms around you. Warm breath ghosts across your skin, Scarlett nuzzling against your neck, and a soft purr escapes, rumbling deep from her chest. Slender fingers, that had found their way underneath the thin hospital shirt, flex, as if she was truly checking you were there, and tug you closer. “You came back to me,” she whispers, placing an almost reverent kiss to the underside of your jaw. “You kept your promise.”

Cyrus/Cyra: Crimson eyes, that had clearly not seen a wink of sleep in a long time, are immediately flooded with gold, a sob erupting from their mouth as they instantly move to cradle your face. “You’re here,” they whisper, drawing as close as they’d possibly dare in your current position. Dipping their head to place a gentle kiss to your forehead, a relieved sigh being all they offered for the next moment. “Thank you. For being here, for loving me, for being everything I never knew that I needed.”

Quinn: Sapphire blue, that had darkened to such a stormy cobalt it was almost unrecognizable, shifts instantly the moment they notice you looking back, that they were given the opportunity to look into the eyes that they’ve fallen so in love with. Words fail them, they wouldn’t know how to properly explain the relief they suddenly feel, the way that their wolf was now howling in joy, and that they no longer felt the crushing weight bearing down onto their chest. “I missed you.” They finally settle on, taking your hand gently into their own. “Never do that again, okay?”

Caden: Seeing the shift in your aura, in the way that your soul no longer felt like it was crying out for a way to escape, allows their tears to fall down their face in jubilation— no longer wrought with the agony of knowing that they might lose you at any moment. In the face of your gaze, of the light that shone from your very being, they feel the hollow emptiness, the chilling grasp, abate from their heart, the dull atmosphere that the world had become suddenly awash with color. “You’re here,” they say, shifting closer to your bedside. “I’m not going to let anything hurt you again, okay? I’m going to protect you like you’ve always protected me. I promise.”

Sloane: A relieved sound escapes their mouth at the sight of you, somewhere between a strangled sob and a sharp gasp, before they get impossibly closer, pressing their forehead against your chest, relishing in the warmth that now slipped through. “You’re such an asshole,” they grunt, fingers digging into the blanket wrapped around you. “Never do that to me again.” Hazel eyes raise to meet your own, flashing gold in a clear warning. “You can’t ever do that me again. Understood? I don’t know if I’d be able to survive it a second time.”

Blake: “Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken,” they gently tease, caressing your cheek. Their attempt at levity, at the natural way they interacted with you, being completely dismantled by the shadows that hung underneath their eyes, at the red rimmed quality of shimmering violet, and the slightly pallid hue to normally tanned skin. Something they seem to take note of, and their false sense of nonchalance falls away, the weight of what had happened bearing down onto their shoulders. “We really need to work on safety precautions, angel.” They lean down and press a chaste kiss to your lips, humming at the familiar feel of you against them. “I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.”

Reginald/Regina: “You’re okay.” Quickly standing, they immediately almost fall back onto their chair as their feet catch on something, but it’s not an event that stops their trek towards you. Instead, they happily settle on the edge of your bed, taking your hand into their own. “I knew that you would be. It wouldn’t have made any sense for me to outlive you after all.” A gentle smile quirks their lips, but it soon falls away, their grip tightening around yours. “I’m so glad won’t be the case. I’m so glad that I still have you. There’s still so much I want to do and see, and I don’t want to do any of that without you.”

Helena: Your mother is by your side in an instant, her face uncharacteristically gentle as she cradles your face in her hands. “My little one,” she murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to your brow. “I’m so glad to see your eyes again. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.” Helena pauses, her expression darkening. “Well, I do, but I’d rather not cause a war if I don’t need to.”

Saraya: “Little light.” The gentle exclamation of the your childhood nickname is followed by a warm presence settling next to you. Your mama’s gentle expression filled with nothing but her love for you, warm hands running through the strands of your hair with all the care in the world. “You gave us all quite the scare—” Her smile falters at the reminder of what had happened, but her touch never falls away. “I love you, my little light, please never forget that.”

Cienna: Your eldest sister raises elegantly from the undoubtedly uncomfortable hospital chair, a picture perfect definition of grace, but the way electric blue eyes seem to sparkle with renewed life tells you the struggle that she had been subjected to in recent days. “I forgot how dramatic you can be, Beastie,” she teases, settling on the edge of your bed, taking your hand in a light grasp. “Almost dying will definitely take the cake for years to come.” Her hold tightens ever-so-slightly, obsidian black flashing within her gaze. “We’ll find out who did this, and I’ll personally ensure that they die screaming. I promise you, Beastie.”

Persephone: A relieved cry erupts from her lips at the sight of you, various kisses being placed across your face in her happiness. You vaguely note that the usual hospital blanket had been replaced by a quilt that Persephone had no doubt made just for you, its warmth, as well as the softness of it, a soothing balm against your aching body. “I was so worried, little one.” Persephone wrings her hands together, amber eyes filled with worry, before she begins to fuss over your blanket and pillows; wanting to ensure you were as comfortable as possible. “I’m so glad you’re okay. None of us would be the same without you.”

Christian: Auburn hair falls across his forehead, the normally boyish curls completely haphazard in their tousled state; his usually well put together appearance being cast to the wayside. “You’re awake,” Christian murmurs, gently taking your hands into his own shaking grip. Forest green, that’s slowly being eclipsed by obsidian, filled with nothing but adoration as he looks at you. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, as if he didn’t know what he could possibly say, but he eventually repeats the only thing that seemed important to him. “You’re awake.”

#midnight sun #asks #ro: blake herrera #ro: koda kingston #ro: r presley #ro: c aurelia #ro: quinn grant #ro: sloane addams #ro: caden randall #ro: scarlett voltaire #sc: helena #sc: saraya #sc: cienna #sc: persephone #sc: christian #scenario asks

[pocketgalaxies]

team huddle

#1h52m c3e53 #sc #critical role #cr3 #cr lb #cr spoilers #ashley johnson #christian navarro #laura bailey #cr cast

[hubba1892]

Florian Wirtz scoring a wonder goal feat. Xabi Alonso and Christian Streich

#Florian Wirtz #Xabi Alonso #Christian Streich #Bayer 04 Leverkusen #Bundesliga #SC Freiburg #Flo Wirtz #(something something alles muss man selber machen...) #honestly thought I would log back in and this set would be waiting for me #cause this is the bit they are going to show during Sportschau when Flo and Xabi are out there bossing Europe #(it's going to be Real isn't it?) #and Leverkusen will play Freiburg again and they'll do the 'remember five years ago' bit #and Streich will just be 'Desch war einfach weltklasse.' and do his litte head shake again #that shot of Flo and six Freiburg players around him - ART #also these are not sped up he IS that quick on the ball #also Xabi your face! #couldn't fit it all into one gif cause he simply doesn't stop #Isabel is right let them win this and then we burn the whole place down once and for all #football #meins

[elishamanning]

Jamal Musiala gives his shirt to Christian Streich (feat. Thomas Müller cameo)

#jamal musiala #christian streich #thomas müller #thomas muller #fc bayern #bayern münchen #bayern munich #sc freiburg #* #*edit

[uncoolfc]

SLAYYYY

#based #i would love if more people in football were this critical #christian streich #sc freiburg #bundesliga

[catfindr]

#petfinder #catfinder #cat #kitten #kitty #christian #sc #south carolina

[cruelsister-moved2]

the way this didnt happen 😭 hindu nationalism is about nationalism/race/islamophobia, its not an issue of ‘organised religion’ when hinduism isnt even a distinct religion (as in most scholars would properly class hinduism as an umbrella term for dozens of dif religions) & the term hindu was first used by british colonists to refer to southeast asians in general (the words india and hindu both come from the same root, the indian subcontinent used to be called hindustan, and it literally refers to the indus river, not a religious belief of any kind). hindu nationalism is ethnonationalism, not religious nationalism in the way american christian nationalism is [though obv there can be overlap esp in the case of the latter] and hindu effectively stands to mean ‘not muslim’, with muslims being effectively an ethnic minority rather than a religious one. hindu nationalist ideology is based around the idea that hindus are the only real true indigenous indians and muslims, having been foreign invaders and having ‘their own country’ of pakistan, dont belong in india. literally the term hindutva was coined by a secular rationalist to describe muslims as an invading impure foreign influence that needed to be dispelled in favour of Real Indians, blood and soil style. there is also religious hindu fundamentalism like any religion but the dominant ideology of e.g the BJP is 100% one of ethnonationalism not religious fundamentalism. <- anyway this is a long and complicated issue that i am only somewhat decently read on and its hard to summarise all the nuance of it in a tumblr post but my point being that hindu nationalism has very little to do with ‘organised religion’ and only someone who is clearly culturally christian and unwilling to unpack that baggage in any way would try to present it this way in order to present themselves in a flattering way whilst literally stoking up bigotry against the group that is most targeted by hindu nationalism. pluuuus most of the people who are talking about how you can still be culturally christian whilst not believing in jesus are like people from religious minority backgrounds. so basically claiming that youre the real oppressed minority being relentlessly persecuted by those meanie muslims is just really a Choice-_-

#op is an obviously culturally christian atheist who gets really angry about the concept of being culturally christian #sorry literally every sc ive been posting is from this one freaks blog #imagine being like yeah asexual shipping drama is literal fascism but also me a white westerner being obsessed w how muslims need to be put #in their place and religion needs to be exterminated is fine #also its just funny when ppl make a claim that someone is behaving really irrationally #and then refuse to properly represent what was actually said #so theyre just hoping youll assume smeone went 'hindu nationalism is bad' and got dogpiled for being culturally christian #when most likely either they are literally just lying or they saw someone with a stupid take getting their stupid take pointed out

[milwaukeeaccountant]

December 2023 Client Update Newsletter

The temperature isn’t the only thing falling this time of year. Your 2023 tax bill can also be falling with a little bit of proactive planning, but time is running out! To help you make the most of potential tax saving moves before the end of the year, this month’s newsletter features several year-end tax cutting ideas. Also have fun with the entire family by testing your holiday knowledge with…

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#Edith I Christian CPA Sc Client Update Newsletter #IFTTT

[shaileshrathod]

તમિલનાડુએ દલિત ખ્રિસ્તીઓને લાભ આપવા માટે બંધારણીય સુધારાનો ઠરાવ અપનાવ્યો

તમિલનાડુએ દલિત ખ્રિસ્તીઓને લાભ આપવા માટે બંધારણીય સુધારાનો ઠરાવ અપનાવ્યોવિધાનસભાએ ઠરાવ પસાર કર્યો જ્યારે ભારતીય જનતા પાર્ટી (BJP) નેતાઓ વિરોધમાં વોકઆઉટ કરી ગયા.તમિલનાડુ એસેમ્બલીએ બુધવારે એક ઠરાવ પસાર કરીને કેન્દ્રને બંધારણમાં સુધારો કરવા અને ખ્રિસ્તી ધર્મમાં પરિવર્તિત થયેલા અનુસૂચિત જાતિના લોકોને સમાન અધિકારો, સંરક્ષણ, છૂટછાટો અને અનામતનો વિસ્તાર કરવા હાકલ કરી હતી.તામિલનાડુના મુખ્ય પ્રધાન એમકે…

View On WordPress

#Christian dalit #Cristina dalit sc benifit #Tamil Nadu Assembly adopts resolution urging Centre to extend reservations to Dalit Christians #tamilnadu

[lovevflwobthings-blog]

Ridle Baku stopping Christian Günter.

#Ridle Baku #Bundesliga #VfL Wolfsburg #SC Freiburg #Christian Günter #WOBSCF

[midnightsun-if]

Ahhhh! I just read the MC death questions, author, why did you pull my heart strings like that…but now I want to ask what would be going through the RO’s and the family mind at MC funeral if they didn’t survive?

BEFORE

Koda: Why did this happen? This shouldn’t have happened. Clenched hands press tightly into his thighs, bottom lip wobbling with the force of his thoughts. His bear, that normally lays contentedly dormant within his chest, roars out in the shared agony between them both. Tears, that had not ceased since he had lost you, overwhelm his vision in a murky film, but he no longer has the strength to wipe them away. Why did this happen? Why wasn’t I faster?

Scarlett: No thoughts are prevalent within her mind, everything just a complete echo chamber of her grief, of her enraged agony. Emerald eyes stare unseeingly, having nothing worth looking at any longer, towards the front of the church, only barely aware of the hand still clasped to her shoulder, keeping her in place, keeping the monster within her in check, but she could feel it clawing at her chest even now, just waiting for the chance to finally be free once more. To make sure the world understood the pain, the rage, that’s currently boiling within her, to showcase the heartless beast she had become the moment her mate had been taken from her. No thoughts were present, because she had stopped existing the moment you did.

Cyrus/Cyra: Failure. Failure. Failure. The single word, the single taunt, is all that they register. A simple truth that they had deluded themself into believing wasn’t one, that they had let themself think they could be more: You’re not that, my darling Phoenix. You’re so much more. The words, echoed within your sweet tone, from days that had long since passed, fill their mouth with an acidic twang, settled over their tongue with the same bitterness that wells within their chest. Something that used to bring them comfort, a reprieve from the weight they carried, only brought them pain now, because you were wrong. Wrong to think that they were anything else, that they were anything more, for how could they not be? If they were more then you’d still be here. They would still have you.

Quinn: You need to rest. They wouldn’t want this. It’s the last shred of humanity pleading with them, hoping that the reminder of their mate would stem the ongoing rage, the ongoing agony, but it didn’t. In fact, it only made things worse— the reminder of what had been lost sending a bitter anger coursing through their veins. Claws extended, teeth bared, they plunge deeper and deeper into the forest, away from what they had left, from the place their mate rested, trying to put distance from reality, to get lost within the confines of nature. But, nothing would be able to keep them from their broken heart. Nothing would stop the enraged howl from ripping itself from their chest. Nothing would stop their pain, their anger, their grief. Because the thing that would, was far behind them buried six feet deep into the ground.

Caden: It’s not fair, their mind howls. I’ve done everything right, I’ve given so much. Why couldn’t I keep this? They know that everything comes with a price, each moment comes with an expiration date, but they had let themself foolishly believe that they’d finally have something that’d be theirs, that they’d finally get to cherish, and be cherished by, another— something that they’ve wanted for so long. They could feel the encroaching darkness beckoning them, luring them towards the tempting silence that it’d bring. But what would happen if they went? Would they lose themself again? Would they lose their memories of you? Of your touch? Of the sound of your laughter? The brilliance of your laugh? What would they give up to not feel this pain anymore? They’d be willing to part with themself, of their own memories, but they couldn’t do so with you. They would never wish to forget you— even if all you bring them now is agony.

Sloane: You’re fault. It’s all your fucking fault. If you had been better, if you had actually done something for once, they’d still be here. For once their wolf has no rebuttal to their anger, no sense of calm in the face of their wrath. Instead, it seems to cave in on itself, seemingly trying to hide from words it knows are true. A bitterness settles heavy over their chest then, anger tasting like fire against their tongue, because they couldn’t simply make themself disappear— couldn’t push back the world like their wolf could. Run away and hide like a coward. They had to face every single day with the knowledge that you were gone, that they’d never see you again, that they’d never be able to hold you. Would never get to hear your laugh, see your smile, or simply hear the sound of your heart beat within your chest. All of that, everything that made the world seem so much brighter, was gone now. Leaving just a monochromatic experience in its wake— everything duller without you their to brighten it with your presence.

Blake: The smell of ash and sulfur fills their nose, dull violet eyes staring into the stretch of darkness before them. Being home, in a place they never wished to return, hadn’t been an event they ever foresaw themself enacting, but how could they stay where they used to be? How could they live in a realm where you didn’t? How could they be somewhere, in a world, where every single thing reminded them of you? This realm, this place, may bring them nothing but misery, but at least it’d finally fit on how they’re feeling on the inside. Because without you? They don’t think they’ll ever feel anything else. So, it’s fitting to be in a place that never give them anything but.

Reginald/Regina: They still, despite themself, expect you to pop out from a corner, a teasing smirk on your face, laughter in your eyes, to tell them that it was all just some form of sick prank. That they’d be able to be in your arms again, that they’d be too overwhelmed with the knowledge that you weren’t gone to get angry at you, that they would finally be able to be home once more. Even days after the funeral, days after they saw your casket get put into the ground, they still slow down when approaching a corner— a part of them still hoping that you’d be on the other side. That they’d be able to see you once more… They’ve never wanted anything more.

BEFORE

Helena: No emotion is present on her face, nothing breaking through the ironclad facade she’s put up. Even if under the mask her entire being was breaking apart, that her very heart is crying out with her grief. She had to be strong, had to keep herself together, for not only her mate, but her remaining children. She couldn’t let herself fall into pieces, couldn’t let herself let loose the agonized screams that were bubbling in the back of her throat. Couldn’t let herself grieve… Not yet… Not when she still had her family to take care of.

Saraya: Dark brown eyes stare unblinkingly at the dark oak casket, at the thing that held her little light. The last embrace that you’d ever receive, that would take you away from her forever. She’d try to bite back a mournful wail, her agony seemingly ripping her chest apart, but she knows she’s unsuccessful when the feeling of her mates arm appears around her shoulder, pulling her tightly in an embrace that’d only be a bandaid to the gaping chasm that had opened within her heart.

Cienna: You had one job and you failed. A bitter smile twists her lips, electric blue eyes dimmed. Keep the family safe. That’s the only thing you’re supposed to do, and you couldn’t even manage that? What kind of leader will you be? Hands clenched tightly, she forces herself not to snarl, to not let her anger overrule her. After all, what could she possibly say to those thoughts? What could she possibly say in the face of the truth?

Persephone: Tears fall without even a semblance of stopping, she couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that you were gone. That she had truly lost her baby sibling, that she hadn’t been able to protect you. How could she have failed so completely? How could she have let this happen? She wouldn’t be able to comprehend anything, wouldn’t be able to think of anything through the mind numbing grief that’s prevalent throughout her entire body.

Christian: Could he have done something different? Have been better in some way? Could he have been worth something for once? Those questions, those uncertainties, would plague him completely. Would haunt his ever waking thought and follow him into his dreams. Because he knows that he could have saved you, could have done something, if he had simply been better. If he had finally been the man you deserved as a big brother.

#midnight sun #asks #ro: blake herrera #ro: sloane addams #ro: c aurelia #ro: r presley #ro: koda kingston #ro: quinn grant #ro: caden randall #ro: scarlett voltaire #sc: helena #sc: saraya #sc: cienna #sc: persephone #sc: christian #scenario asks #angst

[pocketgalaxies]

what happened to them

#55m c3e58 #sc #critical role #cr3 #cr lb #cr spoilers #laura bailey #christian navarro

[hubba1892]

cursed timeline

#naaah I'm not having it #bad streak for people who are invested in middle-aged men from the South who also happen to coach football #If one of them doesn't end up becoming the NM Coach at one point whether it's next year or in five years time - what's the point? #(at the same time: just want them both to have a nice life so I'm not sure the DFB job would be the way to go) #someone check on Jogi #and on Matthias Brandt #Jürgen Klopp #Christian Streich #German Stuff #Bundesliga #SC Freiburg #LFC #23/24 #football

[americantea]

If the Supreme Court gets more religious, we could have state money going to Episcopalians performing gay weddings and Beyoncé masses, female priests teachings your kids to call God by she/they pronouns.

#it's a joke #but Fr those things sound great #I'd be ok with it #christian faith #Christianity #Christian #religion #Supreme Court #SC #AMY COMEY Barrett #religious

[01zfan]

pray/want | j. sc

bad boy!sungchan x church girl!reader | 9.5k words

back at it again with another installment of my sacrilegious series! hope you guys enjoy heh. loosely based off of it will come back by hozier.

contains: drug mention, hand stuff (f. and m. receiving), biblical references and allusions to mary magdalene

sacrilegious masterlist

you were too forgiving. too merciful. you were raised to think it was a strength. giving extra grace to people who don’t deserve it. forgiving those who took advantage of you. 

it was a problem you had since you were a child. you always considered yourself to be empathetic towards others before you even knew what the word meant. if they were mean to you, they must have been having a bad day. if someone took your toys on the playground, they must have wanted it more. if you were pushed, they must be in a hurry. everyone in your life told you this was a strength to have. they presented your patience as if it was a holy virtue, and it was your duty to give it to everyone. your private christian school only further instilled this mindset. meeting everyone where they were often came at your expense, but you didn’t mind. school was an echo chamber of positivity and life was a bubble inside the padded walls of the church.

sungchan was your first introduction to the world outside. he was a new face at mass, round and young just like yours. you remember being confused at the way they scowled at him, how the elders pinched his sides and told him to pay attention to the preacher. he remained unbothered, always picking at the chipping paint on the pews or messing with the flimsy hand fans. you watched as they called sungchan a problem kid and a troublemaker. you think that the words they whispered about sungchan was the first time you were exposed to the harsh reality of people. you watched those words mold sungchan into the very thing they called him. whispers from the elders told you that he was out doing drugs, having sex with women, and hanging out with the wrong crowd. you remember your parents pulling you aside and telling you to not get involved with him, that he would only drag you down. 

your empathetic heart couldn’t stop you from extending an olive branch to sungchan. you didn’t see him as the terrible person they claimed him to be. you saw him as a troubled boy with no guidance. he was still so young, the same age as you with baby fat present on his cheeks. 

sungchan taught you that your forgiving heart was a character flaw. it was a problem you were developing, not being able to leave him alone. you were like his silent apostle, set on the mission of fixing his tumultuous relationship with the church. you would sit next to him during youth group and answer for him, singing extra loud during hymns incase he didn’t know the words. your voice had gone raw from talking to him constantly. you would talk to him for ages to only get a simple shrug or a one worded reply. it didn’t stop you, only further encouraged you to try and break down his walls. 

you came to him in between mass and individual prayer when you saw him sneak out through a door in the kitchen. you found him outside leaning against the church, smoking right below the kitchen window. all someone had to do was look outside and they could see him.

“you know you’re smoking right in front of the window?” you ask him. 

sungchan didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. your polite and slightly nagging voice seemed to follow him everywhere. but sungchan found himself looking to you often, loving the shocked look on your face when he’d shrug his shoulders and blow smoke clouds into the air.

“i don’t care.” sungchan says. 

his tone had become flatter over the years, losing that playful lift he had when you first met him. his sentences had become deadpanned words and eyes became stone. it didn’t drive you away, it only did the opposite.

you come down the stairs, lifting your sunday dress as you did so. the flowy fabric grazed your ankles, and revealed your cute frilly socks. sungchan watched you let the dress come back down your legs, using the same hand to motion at his cigarette. 

“can i try?” you ask.

sungchan has amusement on his lips as he raises his eyebrows at your question. he takes in another drag, turning his head away so he doesn’t blow smoke in your face.

“you smoke?” sungchan asks.

you shrug your shoulders, trying to copy the way sungchan did it. it feels awkward pretending not to care about anything and you’re sure sungchan can tell that your shoulders stayed up for just a moment too long.

“yeah. sometimes.” you lie. 

you don’t know why you are lying to sungchan, or why the lie fell so easily from your lips. you were never the type to ever lie, telling the truth no matter what consequence fell upon you. sungchan looks towards the door to the kitchen. someone could come out at any moment and catch you.

sungchan was intrigued by you. he let his eyebrows fall back down his face and looked away from you to knock the ash from the end of his cigarette. he was intrigued how you continue to stay there while all of his attention went to the ash falling from his cigarette, something that came like second nature to him. sungchan let his eyes go to your clear jelly shoes, something he had only seen children wear. he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a little laugh seeing you nervously rock back on your heels while he basically ignored you. 

once the ash had fallen to the ground sungchan walked over to you. he looked down with a smirk as he moved it to your lips. when you tried to grab it with your own hand sungchan raised it just out of your lips reach. you looked at him and he lightly shook his head. 

“the smell will get on you, let me hold it.”  sungchan said.

he watched you as you took your first drag from the cigarette. you almost went crosseyed to focus on the butt of the cigarette lighting up. it was fine only for a moment, before your lungs that were only used to pulling in air filled up with smog. your lungs started screaming at you and you could feel your throat burn, but sungchan looking at you expectantly egged you on.

“attagirl.” he said once he decided you were done. 

he pulled the cigarette away from you and watched you intently.

you could only hold in the smoke for a second before you started coughing profusely. sungchan gently clapped his hand over your back, your face started to burn along with your throat and lungs, embarrassed at how you couldn’t stop coughing. the heat only intensified when you looked up at sungchan. being so close to sungchan made you realize how angelic he looked. he was like a cherub, with his soft cheeks and unblemished skin. you were wondering how anyone in the church could call someone so pretty such awful. he had a smile on his face while looking at you, biting his lip to not laugh in your face. he distracted you almost to the point your body forgot it had to cough, having to turn away from his face to cough into your fist. right before you could cough, you heard the screen door of the kitchen open.

“what are you two doing?” a woman said. 

you recognized the woman from the congregation. she had a hand on her hip and the other clutching a purse just a little too big for her close to her chest. her dresses always matched her purse, and you always found your eyes ruefully drifting to the fraying garment of her apparel.

sungchan looked at you, like he was expecting you to lie to the woman. your heaves had turns into slightly labored breathing, clearing your throat to keep yourself from coughing. he saw your expression and decided to take matters into his own hands. he leaned against the wall of the church to hide his hand. he dropped his cigarette to the ground behind him, putting out the end with his heel. he cleared his throat and you cleared yours again. when sungchan straightened his back you did too.

“praying.” sungchan said sarcastically.

the lady rolled her eyes. you saw her sneak a pack of cigarettes back into her purse and she flicked her head towards the door.

“go back inside. they need help setting the table.” she said.

sungchan puts his hands in his pockets and starts heading towards the door. he is unfazed by the light scolding, something he has gotten used to over the years. you, however felt your heart drop at the thought of disappointing someone older than you. the shame is doubled when the older lady stops you before you go inside.

“you’re a good girl. you shouldn’t be hanging out with him. he’s a bad influence.” she said quietly. 

you know sungchan could hear it, because his steps falter for a moment before he continues walking out of sight. you nod in haste, wanting the interaction to be over. the lady closes the door and you watch sungchan go past the kitchen. he continues to walk down the hallway of the church, far away from everyone else.

the lady’s warning set the dynamic for your relationship with sungchan. it didn’t stop you from seeing him, it could be argued it made you want to hang out with him more. you had become his goody-two-shoes sidekick, tagging along to his adventures and indulging yourself in his lifestyle. 

you had your first drink with sungchan. you remember taking the shot, the clear liquid stinging the back of your throat and making your stomach warm. it had become more enticing to you than the blood of christ that touched your lips during communion. the cheers of your name from the unfamiliar faces around you tempted you to take another.

when your hand reached for the bottom sungchan places his hand over yours. you looked up to sungchan and found the same look on his face of when you took your first drag of the cigarette. you didn’t know a look could be so powerful, giving you the courage to do things you would’ve never done in a thousand years. 

you watched sungchan’s friend get a tattoo the same day you got your first piercing in the bathroom. sungchan leaned over the sink to inspect your ear, marking the perfect place. you could feel his hot breath fan your neck as he prepped your ear for the puncture.

“you’re parents might be upset.” sungchan said.

he pulled away from your ear to look at you. he was giving you the chance to back out, to refuse the piercing. but it was that look he gave you that had you shrugging your shoulders—it was starting to come to you naturally.

“i don’t care.” you said. 

the truth was you did care, but you cared more about the man dangerously close to you. your parents were the furthest thing from your mind as sungchan went back to looking at your ear, sticking a needle through your lobe. the sound you made caught both you and sungchan by surprise. you bit your lip when he did the other ear, not trying to make that sound in front of him again. your teeth nearly drew blood from your lip when sungchan moved backwards to inspect you, making sure the punctures were even.

when sungchan turned you around in the mirror he stood behind you as you checked out the new jewelry. you turned your head, trying to take it all in. you looked to your ears then sungchan, standing behind you with his hand on your shoulders.

“it’s pretty.” you said.

sungchan looked into the mirror to look into your eyes.

“yes. very pretty.” sungchan said.

just when you thought you had sungchan, he disappeared. it was like he was a ghost or a figment of your imagination. one day he was sitting next to you in the pews and the next day he wasn’t. he stopped coming to church, his parents stopped coming too. rumors spread that he had runaway after a particularly bad argument with his parents. the fact that his parents were too ashamed to come back made you assume they did something awful the church didn’t want to admit.

sungchan was even harder to get in contact with. each time you had hung out with him he came and found you. when you wanted to reach him, you realized you had no way to do so. 

not being able to see him led to your imagination running wild. everyday you would go outside to the kitchen window where he would smoke, looking out into the forest that surrounded your church. your mind had helplessly come up with a scenario each time you’d walk down the steps. your mind conjured up the image of sungchan hiding in the trees, scared to be seen by anyone else but you. after seeing sungchan you’d stop in your tracks, so surprised to see him standing there. you had practiced your facial expressions, letting your eyebrows raise and your eyes get large. you saw yourself mindlessly walking over to him when he’d beckon to you. you imagined that he would bring you in for a kiss, a type of kiss that would make up for the months of all the yearning and pining. 

then afterwards you imagined that sungchan would tell you how much he missed you, not being able to find god at the parties of the bottom of shot glasses. you’d then walk him back to the church and have the congregation apologize for pushing his soul to stray even further away from the path of god. you wondered about a christian wedding, going full traditional. having kids that were baptized for everyone to see. everything about you two would be by the holy book, except for sex. you don’t think you could wait that long.

your manifestation of sungchan coming to you didn’t come to fruition. you didn’t see sungchan until months later as you were leaving choir practice. the expression you had practiced didn’t pan out the way you wanted to. your binder fell from your hands, sheet music falling onto the rocky parking lot.

sungchan came over to help you quickly, catching papers before they could run away in the wind. you had bent down to take the music from him, but you were frozen, stuck in place looking at sungchan. he didn’t say a word to you until your papers were safely tucked away again in your binder, closing it and putting it back in your hands. he looked to you and you couldn’t believe your eyes. your feet were stuck to the ground keeping you both in the squat position.

“hi.” sungchan said quietly.

you nodded you head and cleared your throat. you hung onto your binder, the only thing keeping you present.

“where have you been?” your voice is barely above a whisper.

you had a white knuckle grip on your flimsy plastic binder. you don’t know why you were so nervous to ask sungchan a question. in his absence he had become someone you didn’t want to doubt, scared that he would leave you again. 

sungchan’s face flashes for a moment before he stands up. he dusts himself off, metaphorically wiping your question off of him. he holds out his hand for you and you grab it, surprised at how clammy his hand is on yours.

once you’re up you still stare at him like he’s a ghost.

“can i take you somewhere?” sungchan asks.

it was dangerous to have sungchan in your life. you found yourself nodding quickly to every question he had, you think you would leave the church the same way he did if he held your hand while you walked out. seeing sungchan smile outside of the church made you wonder what life was like outside of it. maybe it was nice and you would be happier than you were here. so you nodded as he led you to the motorcycle that looked similar to his fathers.

he helped you to the back and took a helmet out of the side compartment. he coaxed your musical binder from your hands to put it in there, tightening the leather strap to keep it safe. you were nearly shaking with anxiety as sungchan put on his helmet too, throwing his leg over to straddle the seat.

the engine revved underneath you, and your hands that were previously gripping your binder were now clenched at your sides. you waited for sungchan to reach behind him and guide your hands to clasp around his waist.

“hold on tight.” sungchan said as he pushed away the kickstand.

your words were drowned out by the sound of the motorcycle leaving the parking lot. you held onto him, letting your head rest against his back as he hit the throttle. you thought that the road sungchan was taking you down at an unbelievable speed could be comparable to your life. the fear that came with your future turned to excitement when sungchan turned around and looked at you, asking if you were having fun. everything that was scary seemed fun when you had your arms around sungchan’s waist, even the idea of getting into an accident on the motorcycle turned into a thrill for you. it was the same thrill that sungchan always seemed to give you. it was one that only subsided when you used the same hand that signed the cross on yourself underneath the sheets. you pressed your hands flat against his stomach, feeling how solid he was through his shirt. sungchan’s back vibrated against your head from laughing.

sungchan didn’t move your hands until the motorcycle was parked. your eyes didn’t open until the engine stopped roaring and sungchan gently touched you to let you know you had both arrived. you don’t know how long your eyes were squeezed shut to get here. you opened your eyes to  sungchan standing in front of you, helping you out of your helmet. this was somehow more intimate than having your arms wrapped around his waist as you two plummeted down the highway. you had to look away for your own good, focusing on the concert venue that had a steady stream of people going in. you saw people dressed like sungchan going in, various crowds of people were around the concert hall smoking while others tipped their heads back and wiped their noses.

“have you ever listened to music that wasn’t religious?” sungchan said.

he had leaned against his motorcycle as you took in the view around you. it felt like you were dropped in a different dimension or alternate reality from your own. you had no idea that people like this existed so close to your modest township. it was all so foreign to you that you couldn’t even find the words to describe the aesthetic. the words came and went, trying to define ripped skinny jeans and people cursing freely. what this had to do with music was beyond you, but before you could answer sungchan’s question you saw him turn his head towards someone in the moving mass of people.

“sungchan! you’re fucking late!”

you followed the voice until it landed on someone dressed similarly to sungchan. black leather jacket and ripped skinny jeans, with hair that was so black it shined underneath the street lamps. he looked younger than you and sungchan, he had an innocent look about him that betrayed the clothes he was sporting. the only thing you had in common with the person in front of you was the same beat up shoes you both everyday. you felt nervous and out of place, like you didn’t belong here.

“who is this?” the boy said.

he seemed to know you didn’t belong here either, his voice significantly lower than when he called to his friend. the boys gaze went back to sungchan after giving you a once over. you did the same, looking to sungchan like you didn’t know who you were.

“this is,” sungchan looked like he was contemplating for a moment. a hand that was supporting his body against his motorcycle pointed towards you. “my friend from church.” sungchan said.

anton’s eyes got big for a moment, head slightly tilting in confusion. it was almost like a lightbulb went off anton’s his head a second later. anton turned to you, his face suddenly neutral.

“oh. nice to meet you. i’m anton.”

he didn’t offer his hand out to you, they stayed stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. he nodded his head and you did your best to copy him. it felt just like when you started shrugging your shoulders to copy sungchan. anton took his phone from his back pocket and showed the time to sungchan. it was about to be your curfew.

“wonbin is about to be on soon.” anton said.

“let’s go then.” sungchan said.

sungchan pushed himself off his bike and started following the crowd heading towards the building. you followed behind the two men, not really having anywhere else to go. you couldn’t help but stare at every face you passed by, wondering where all these kids your age had come from.

the only indication that showed you were in your town still was that the building had the same look as everything else in your town. there was a certain archaic and abandoned look to the building on the exterior. the brick had cracks the painting was chipped, and vegetation grew along the edges. the closer you, sungchan, and anton got to the building you could make out the faded sign of what the building once was. it was a factory who knows how long ago, and judging by the size business was booming at one point. now it was honing beacon for all the rebels in your town, young adults that were the same age as you but looked wiser and seemed significantly more mature. you had always been proud of your innocence when it came to life, but your lack of experience weighed down on you heavy as you looked past the large doors into the unknown. 

you saw two burly men guarding the entrance dressed in all black with shades on even though it was nighttime. both of their eyes immediately went to you, and you felt even more out of place than before. sungchan followed their eyes to see what they were looking at. he grabbed your hand and you grabbed it back, trying to seem as casual as possible. sungchan visibly straightened his shoulders a little more, his hand settling on something in his back pocket. you saw anton show his ID to the other bouncer while sungchan’s hand led you to the other one. the bouncer held out his hand but before he could ask for your ID, sungchan smiled big at him.

“she’s with me.” sungchan said cheerfully.

“still need to see ID.” he said.

you see sungchan pull whatever it was from his back pocket and hand it to the bouncer. it’s something small, but sungchan’s body blocks your line of sight to see exactly what it is. the bouncer gives you one last look and you can’t stop yourself from looking down at your feet. you’re sure it is painfully obvious you shouldn’t be here. the bouncer takes mercy on you for some reason and nods his head. sungchan pulls you by your hand to drag you inside. the bouncer only continues to look at you for a second before tending to the next person in line.

the inside of the venue was completely opposite of the outside. if the outside was worn down the interior looked like it was recently experienced a complete rebirth. the ground you thought would be cracked concrete was reworked hardwood. the mass of people coming in walked towards a medium sized stage, where a curtain was drawn hiding who was behind it. this was what you imagined to be a concert venue now, equipped with stands on both sides for extra people. you didn’t know something like this existed in your town. you stopped for a moment and anton looked back at you smiling.

“first time?” anton asked.

sungchan looked between you and anton with an apprehensive look. you almost felt like you shouldn’t talk to him before you nodded your head yes.

“this is like sunday mass but for a different type of congregation.” anton said.

you don’t know anton said it to poke fun at you, the smile on his lips fading when he looked at sungchan. but it made complete sense. everyone looked the same, dressed in attire for the occasion the same way you dressed every sunday morning. anton and sungchan bobbed and weaved through the crowd, sungchan leading you through the mass of people until you ended up on the side. anton said something to the security guard, leaning in close before turning around and pointing at you and sungchan. the security guard faltered for a moment before stepping back and pulling open the safety gate. the three of you walked through and made it on the other side of the curtain to a smaller room.

immediately when you walk in the something musty and pungent fills your nose. it’s strong and almost skunky. you look to anton and sungchan—they are unfazed. you don’t comment on the overwhelming smell, or the smoke that filled the small room. 

you only remember being in the room for ten minutes before your perception of time changed. one moment you just suddenly felt yourself looking to the clock every ten minutes to see that only two had passed. you sat on the couch while sungchan navigated the whole room. they listened to every word and the way they followed him around made you think of disciples. it made you giggle, you smiling into your hand when sungchan came to you on the couch.

“what’s so funny?” sungchan asked.

he had a smile of his own now, and his eyes were low and bleary. when you forgot the answer you just kept smiling. sungchan smiled back at you. you were giggling while sungchan when sungchan told his friend to break a leg, and you were giggling when sungchan grabbed you hand and took you to the bathrooms. you laughed at how piss covered the floors and how there was no toilet paper or soap in the dispensers. you were nearly in tears when sungchan started stuffing pieces of toilet paper into your ears as makeshift ear plugs. he was laughing too, quelling your worries that the toilet paper would get stuck in your ears. 

whatever you felt had died down by the time the show started, the loud music pulling you from your trance. the music thumped in your chest, you had to hold a hand to your heart to make sure it was still beating. sungchan seemed unbothered by being so close to the speakers though. he was cheering and singing along with his friend on stage. sungchan smiled more than you had ever seen him do so in church, and he knew all the words unlike the latin hymns he mouthed unsuccessfully during service.

everyone sang along to the lyrics except for you, bodies bumped into yours and everyone was pushing. if it wasn’t for sungchan behind you, you were sure you would’ve been swallowed up into the crowd. the music was nothing like what you were used to, but you tried to enjoy it anyway. it was different to see what rebels your age were doing while you were busy knowing nothing about life beyond your oratory.

the music blared from the stage, the bass made the floor underneath your feet shake. it went right through the soles of your shoes and travelled up from the balls of your feet. the bass went all the way to your head, shaking the individual hairs and rattling your skull. it was like all your senses were being taken away from you and replaced solely with the music that played onstage.

you could barely make out anything from the strobing lights, as fast as you were granted vision it was ripped away. the flashing lights contributed to the energy of the people surrounded you, like a ticking time bomb as gasoline filled all the way to the ceiling. everyone’s restless bodies started colliding when the music intensified. you don’t know if people started forgetting there were bodies around them as the music got louder and louder. it was the same way it was at sunday service. you saw people be overcome with emotion as they pushed to the music. they were swayed by the band on stage the same way your congregation was swayed by the priest. but just like there and just like now, the only thing that swayed you was sungchan. the only difference was that in church you could only dream about how close he was to you now. his hands rested on your hips as he guarded your body from the people moving around you. you felt his wet lips place a kiss to your neck, so soft and gentle unlike the harsh music that played onstage and the hectic crowd of people that surrounded you. 

sungchan’s wet lips pressed to your skin. you could feel the heat coming off his body in waves, and you were sweating on your own. the air seemed to vibrate as sungchan worked his way up to your ear before kissing the shell and leaning further in. you could feel his chest come close to your back as he whispered in your ear.

“i missed you.” sungchan said against your neck.

you weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear what sungchan said to you. his voice had intent, but it was supposed to be drowned out by the riffing guitar onstage and the bass that vibrated the speakers next to you. but when sungchan spoke to you, it cut through all the noise. it made the pulsing bodies surrounding you disappear. suddenly it was just you and sungchan in the venue--maybe in the whole world. 

you knew that whatever you said would be lost over the sound of the music. you just tilted your head until it rested on sungchan’s and nodded, to make sure he knew you felt the same way. 

you knew sungchan understood when his hands on your hip dug into the your church dress. the fabric stood no chance against his grip, it was almost like there wwas nothing there at all as sungchan held you tight.

“i want you.” he said into your ear.

you smiled as you looked ahead to the stage. want was so juvenile to you. you learned about want and have felt want for so long that it came to you like breathing. the want you were taught about in church was subject to god’s will. what you felt for sungchan couldn’t be contingent on anyone, not even if they were all knowing. 

what you needed couldn’t be defined as something so simple as want. it was defined as a burning desire and something you pretended wasn’t a necessity until now. the same way you taught sungchan about the bible you planned to teach him about something else. so while you were shoulder to shoulder with sweaty pushing strangers you turned around to face him. sungchan was still leaned over to kiss your neck when you put both hands to his face to pull him in. he kissed you with want but you kissed him back with necessity. it was carnal the way you took his bottom lip into your mouth and the way the bass in your moan rang in both of your mouths. you only took a hand away from sungchan’s face to push his hands lower on your body. he gripped your ass as you deepened the kiss. you kissed sungchan so eagerly that his face was being pushed back as he tried to reciprocate. 

when the song ended you pulled away first. sungchan was in the same place you left him, with his eyes closed and head tilted. his lips were red and swollen. want couldn’t compare to what you felt. you could fill this warehouse to the ceiling with want. what you felt for the man before you was something that could only be expressed underneath the sanctified sheets of your bed.

“my parents are asleep around this time. they don’t get up till afternoon service.” you said.

you said it at normal volume, still thinking it was just you and sungchan. the lights around you barely illuminated your face as your faced sungchan. your voice was lost in the screaming crowd, and sungchan could hardly make out the words your lips mouthed. so he looked into your eyes, he let them guide his next actions as he nodded his head. sungchan looked down to see your hand and your gaze fix on the exit. 

the show was over when sungchan grabbed your hand and led you to the exit. it was sungchan who was pushing concertgoers now, bumping into people without care if they were in the way. you trailed behind him, bumping into people as a result of it. you apologized to who you could, but someone giving you a hard look was the least of your worries. you would repent for being impatient later.

you and sungchan beat the crowd leaving the venue. he didn’t bother to look for his friend or to say goodbye. sungchan was only focused on making sure his spare motorcycle helmet was secure on your head before kicking his bike off the ground.

you held onto sungchan’s waist as you sped down the highway towards your home. you took the risk to let go of him when he hit the highway. he slowed down on the empty road to let you spread your arms out. you felt the wind around you, and you hoped it would carry away the smell of cigarettes and skunk that stuck to your clothes. sungchan still knew the way, and he knew to park his motorcycle on the side of the road instead of pulling up to the driveway. 

you looked to sungchan one last time before opening the door to your home. he was on his own path that deviated from the church a long time ago. you weren’t sure what he was doing besides enjoying music and doing drugs, but it didn’t matter. him being outside of the church as you were leaving had to be something like divine intervention. 

it was that intervention that led sungchan down your creaky hallway, sneaking past your parents that were sleeping on the couch. with a finger to your lips sungchan found himself following someone else’s orders for the first time in awhile, taking the same steps as you to be as quiet as possible.

sungchan walked down your hallway that was adorned with crosses and decorations of angels. he was sure he saw the statue of jesus on the top of a table, and a painting of his birth was stuck to the wall. sungchan let you pass by him so you could slowly open the door of your bedroom. he looked down the hallway to see the glow from the television casted on the wall. he heard the low sound of a late night televangelist before hearing your voice.

“sungchan.” 

you called to him gently from the depth of your room. he couldn’t see from his spot in the shadow of your hallway, so his feet carried him until he was beside your doorframe. 

sungchan saw you sitting on the center of your bed. you were still in your dress, but sungchan felt like you were laying yourself bare before him. he was frozen in place underneath the rosary that draped your doorframe. he was compelled to do the sign of the cross over his body, but nothing could make him move. it wasn’t until you beckoned to him that sungchan took a deep breath before taking a step into your room. 

sungchan said nothing about the religious paraphernalia in your room. suddenly the crosses you had collected over the course of your life was humiliating as sungchan looked at every single one of them. you motioned for him to turn off the lights as he closed the door behind him, but the miniature figure of christ you had on your desk could still be seen in the dead of night. sungchan almost felt like something terrible would happen to him if he mentioned it, like getting struck by lightning or your parents suddenly coming into your room. 

the only thing that kept sungchan calm was looking at you. you felt unrest seeing sungchan stand still in your doorway. he must’ve still feared something judging him by the way he looked at you. you patted the space on the bed beside you, adjusting yourself on your knees to seem as welcoming as possible. 

sungchan sat on the bed next to you, his legs leaning over the side of the bed. he was ready to get up and leave at any moment. you’re body head to toe is tingling with excitement, and you want to remind sungchan about the want he told you about earlier. you turn your back to him and reveal the zipper down the back of your dress.

“can you help me?” you ask.

sungchan says nothing, but you can feel the pads of his fingers hold the fabric surrounding your zipper in place while he brings the other hand to the zipper itself. you can feel the pads of his fingers on the bare skin of your neck that the dress doesn’t cover. you shake as your hear the metal teeth open down your back, and the cold skin of your room touches your skin.

when the zipper is all the way down, sungchan brings his hand to your two shoulders. he slowly helps your arms out of the sleeves, and you let it fall off your body. you can hear him exhale and feel his breath fan the skin of your back. sungchan brings hesitant fingers to the clasp of your bra. you can hear him behind you shuffle to move his body further on the bed.

“can i?” sungchan whispers.

you swallow and nod your head.

“yes.” you say quietly.

sungchan misses the clasp on the first try, and it catches you off guard when your chest suddenly feels free after his second attempt. he helps you out of the bra the same way he did with your dress. you let it fall off your body, falling on top of the pile your dress made.

you stretch the curve or your back. sungchan only looks at your shoulder blades, too nervous to move any further. you lift the top of your dress from the bed and press it to your bare chest. you look behind your shoulder to look at sungchan. his eyes break from your shoulders to your eyes, and then to your lips. sungchan watches you as you move backwards onto the bed, giving him space to move in front of you.

the two of you sit in the silence of your room, looking to eachother. you can hear the sound of the wind blowing outside, and the sound of a loud commercial break on the television in the living room. you move underneath the loose fabric of your dress and bring your legs closer to your body. sungchan shifts too, and you can see his hand reach out before he brings it back to his body. he lets his finger press into the duvet on your bed as you clear your throat.

“do you still want me?” you ask.

sungchan nods his head and moves forward towards you. he still hesitates, not letting his hand that’s on your calf go up any higher. 

“i want you so bad. you don’t understand.” sungchan said.

you hated that you understood what sungchan meant all too well. you could sit here and debate the logistics with him, how you could teach him what it feels like to truly yearn something like the way you yearned for him. you wanted to show sungchan about passion that went beyond want, and you longed to drive him so crazy that he would feel the same burning desire you felt when you didn’t see him for all that time. so you grab sungchan’s hand and guide it to the dress you had let go of. it rested on your body like covers, ready to be taken off if sungchan was willing. he looked to you and you nodded your head as he held your dress. 

sungchan pulled the dress away from you slowly, revealing more and more of you to him. you gasped as you felt his eyes on you. by the time sungchan takes your dress fully off, you are only left in your cross pendant and underwear. sungchan is entranced, eyes dragging down your whole body. he lifts your legs to help pull the dress off all the way. sungchan gently drops your clothes over the edge of your bed. you point at sungchan’s shirt, and he takes off his shirt and pants too. 

you are both left in your underwear underneath the plethora of crosses on your wall. the bible is next to your bed on the table with a rosary piled neatly on top. it’s ignored when you sit on your bed and spread your bent legs slightly. sungchans hand starts from your feet, tracing up your leg slowly until he reaches your knee. his fingers come down your leg as he slots his body in between them. 

his fingers don’t stop until he thumbs the cross pendant on your necklace.

“sign of the cross.” sungchan says quietly.

you settle further into your bed, and spread your legs further.

“do you remember how to do it?” you ask

sungchan nods before bringing three fingers from his right hand to your bare body. he touched your forehead, then dragged his fingers down the valley of your chest to your solar plexus. sungchan touched both of your shoulders, using your collarbone as a guide. you let out a breath sigh of amen, but sungchan didn’t do the same. he brought his hand back to your stomach, going lower and lower on your body. he looked at you for permission, and you nodded and spread your legs further. 

you felt the carnal desire that evolved from want fill your room to the brim as sungchan let his fingers go underneath the waistband of your panties. he teased you only for a second, the pads of his fingers bumping your clit before his fingers went further down your folds. you gasped when sungchan finally put his fingers inside of you. he kept his fingers still for a moment inside of you, waiting for you to adjust and move first. you wasted no time pulling your hips back to bring them forward again as you used sungchan’s fingers to pleasure yourself.

he brought his other hand to your lower stomach, feeling the supple skin of your stomach.

“i’m so bad for you, you know.” sungchan said.

his actions differed from his words. the way he had his fingers on you made you feel so good, and the high you felt from the drugs in your system and the rush from the night made you want to continue chasing that feeling. so you ignore sungchan’s indirect warnings and continued to push your hips to meet his fingers.

“i can save you.” you whimper quietly. 

sungchan looked from your hips to your eyes. he looked deep into you but you didn’t shy away. you continued to push your hips to feel his fingers go inside of you deeper. you didn’t break eye contact until sungchan bent his fingers and hit a spot you didn’t know existed. you bit your lip and tilted your head back. your whole body leaned, forcing you to prop yourself up on your outstretched hands behind you. 

sungchan moved from his spot on the bed to get closer you. he hovered over your body, his hand on top of yours as his other hand continued to pump in and out of your body. you looked up at sungchan, spreading your legs further as sungchan took over. he let you rest as he started doing all the work. he wanted it to be fast, seeing your chest jump as his finger started pistoning into you. you brought your hand that was free to hold sungchan’s bicep. he still held your gaze, nodding as you let quiet moans fall from your lips. your eyes closed in bliss—you couldn’t stop the words from falling out of your mouth.

“oh my god.” you sighed.

“i know.” sungchan whispered back.

sungchan kept going, even through the pain of you digging your nails into his skin. he kept going even when you fell to your back and closed your thighs around his hand. sungchan didn’t stop until you cried out his name from your pillow and slick want came from you. you clamped around his fingers and sungchan scissored them inside of you, trying to give you all you could take. he didn’t stop until your legs slid down your bed and you used a weak hand to pull his fingers out of you.

sungchan watched you bring your hand to your chest as you stared at the ceiling. sungchan laid on the bed next to you and placed a hand next to yours. he could feel your heart pounding in its cage. he brought a hand to his heart and he could feel it beat with the same urgency.

you let yourself relax next to sungchan. you let your hand go down his body. you do the same thing sungchan did to your body, your three fingers grazing across his body before going underneath the waistband of his boxers. you look up and kiss sungchan’s forehead as you wrap your hand around his length. it’s heavy and twitches in your hand as you slowly stroke him. 

his usual demeanor crumbles almost instantly, he is the vulnerable one underneath your touch. he pushes his body further up until he is resting against the headboard of your bed and you follow him. you face sungchan as you continue pumping his length, and his hands dig into your sheets. you come closer to his lips to kiss him again, trying to swallow the tiny sighs he lets out. sungchan gives you the reins and you let desire take control of your actions. desire makes you pull down sungchan’s waistband and it makes you put your tongue into his mouth. sungchan pulls his underwear off the rest of the way and you take a peak at his length. in the darkness of your room the moonlight comes in perfectly, giving you just enough sight. you can see your hand glisten in the light as it goes up and down sungchan’s dick. it’s a soft wet sound, only magnified by the quiet of the night. 

sungchan grips your hand and tightens it around his length. he starts lifting his hips to fuck himself up into your hand and you watch his body work to bring himself pleasure. you can see the sweat form on his taut skin, and his hair starts to stick to his forehead from the exertion. sungchan can barely bring himself to look at you as he chases his own pleasure. you force him to make eye contact when you move his bangs from his face and lift his gaze with fingers underneath his chin. the pace he set with his thrusts falter for a second when he looks into your eyes. you help him by bringing your hand down faster and tighten the grip of your hand. you can feel sungchan’s hand clasp around yours further, and how his thighs start to shake from the work of thrusting. 

that’s what separates you and sungchan. his want drives him to hastily fuck your hand, trying to reach a high that only came to him hours ago. what you needed has had time to ferment. it started as want—you wanted sungchan to come to church. you wanted him to find his path. you wanted him to kiss you. but it had time to brew in your stomach over the time time you didn’t see him and when your mind was forced to fill in the gaps. it was like a wound, festering on your skin and reopened anytime sungchan came into your orbit. he knew nothing about yearning or craving something the way you did. but you kept pumping your hand for him, because you wanted to keep him coming back for more. you wanted to become a wound on his skin and burn the fleeting touches into his brain. you were going to become something sungchan longed for, and maybe over that time your own craving would subside. sungchan would need you and you would be able to use a word as weak as want to describe how you feel about him. 

when sungchan’s hand go back into your panties, your hand faltered. you looked to sungchan bewildered, but he only looked back at you with blown out eyes. his eyes consumed you while his bitten lips drew you in again. maybe sungchan already felt the same as you, he was just better at hiding it. maybe the plan you had for sungchan would end up destroying the both of you. you didn’t care as you helplessly rutted into his fingers. if desire killed you before it subsided to want you would be okay with it. if you were to die at the hands of something that felt so good, you would welcome it with open arms. 

you brought your mouth away from sungchan’s to go to his neck. you suck and bit at his skin, and he brought a hand to your back to bring you closer. you were kneeling beside his body, praying into the skin of sungchan’s neck as he whimpered next to you. in the comfort of your bed kneeling wasn’t painful. you wondered why you spent so much of your life kneeling for forgiveness on the rough ground of the outside world or the padded walls of your church. you wasted your time kneeling to anything but pleasure. 

your revelation hits you the same time it hits sungchan. he thrusts into your hand once more before staying there. he whined quietly as his hand presses deeper into your back and inside of you. you can feel his dick twitch and warmth covers his hand and yours in spurts. you continue to pump his dick as he becomes a mess underneath you and you grind your hips on his hand so you can feel your own revelation again. your body turns to jello for the second time of the night as you lean your entire body weight against sungchan’s chest. you can’t stop letting your sounds increase in volume as you lean further into sungchan’s chest. you let your sounds out into his clammy skin as he continues to finger you. you have to take your hand from his dick and pull his hand out so you can calm down.

“i’m sorry.” sungchan says.

he wraps both arms around you and brings you weak body in for a hug. you only shake your head, trying to form a coherent thought.

”it’s okay.” you whine.

after you come back from heaven, you realize exhaustion is starting to weigh down on your body. you’ve had a busy day, the adrenaline high crashes down on you fast. you end up drifting to sleep still leaned against sungchan’s body, but he is left wide awake. he only says your name once, slightly shaking your body to see if you will come to. you don’t wake up, and sungchan uses what’s left of his energy to slide down from the headboard so you’re both laying on the bed. sungchan feels the mess he made over his hands and stomach. he believes that he doesn’t have a home here, or the right to lay in your bed. so he gently moves your sleeping body, pulling your hand wrapped around his waist and turning you so you lay on the pillow. your body instantly adapts, pulling in a blanket to hold it the same way you were holding him. 

sungchan gets up from your bed and starts putting his clothes back on. it’s slow and hesitant—he does everything in his power to keep you asleep. sungchan starts walking towards your door with his jacket and belt in hand when he hears shuffling on your bed.

“do you need a place to sleep tonight?” you whisper sleepily.

sungchan froze before he could turn the handle. he looked back at you, seeing your state and he nodded solemnly. you thought even in the dark of night you could see his crestfallen face, or maybe it was waves that radiated off of him in droves. you thought for the night he wouldn’t be alone as you lifted up the corner of your sheets, showing an empty spot just for him. sungchan came from your doorway to your bed, setting his jacket on the back of your chair and taking off his jeans. in just his boxers and shirt he crawled underneath the covers. he held open his arms, showing he had a spot for you too. you nestled into him without hesitation, tucking your head underneath his chin.

“i would give you anything you need.” you whispered into sungchan’s chest.

his arms around your body wrapped around you more, pulling you closer. you had almost wished he had drifted off to sleep. you wanted to whisper into his chest that he could come to you like a stray cat, wounded and hungry and you’d take him in each time. you wanted to tell him that you didn’t care if you were too forgiving or too naive. you wanted to be there for him like a saint if it meant you could continue to receive his offerings. if you enabled him until there was nothing left you would savor each moment you had with him. if you ended up saving sungchan you would make a future with him.

sungchan knew that he wouldn’t be able to rid himself of you even if he tried. something about you entranced him and had him wanting to come back. maybe it was the way you prayed with the same hands you used to undress yourself backstage. he imagined nights in the near future of him sitting on the edge of your bed while you gave him a show. maybe it was a trauma response. sungchan knew that the life he was living would drain him emotionally and physically. if he were to appear on your doorstep in the dead of the night after a show or a bender he knew your forgiving heart would let him in. he knew you couldn’t bare to see someone else in pain, especially if it was him.

you both knew the dynamic you two were actively changing all night was going to become volatile later down the line. you would end up taking mercy on sungchan’s self-destructive lifestyle in exchange for the freedom he brought you, while sungchan would use you to recuperate before going out and destroying himself some more. you would try to change him under the guise of showing him “the light” and he would corrupt you under the guise of showing you life outside the church. who needed who more would only become blurred and several lines would be crossed. you both knew you were trapping yourselves in a vicious cycle, one that you would probably go through on your own to keep it a secret from the church and your family. 

it didn’t matter when sungchan sighed contently and kissed your forehead. his lips were soft against your skin, it brought you the same comfort the church used to bring you. so you sighed from the comfort and settled further in your tomb, underneath the six layers of your clothes and blankets. your body was still cold, the only thing that brought warmth was sungchan’s body. it made you feel like you were alive, like you would be reborn when you emerged from the covers in the morning.

“you know i’ll be back.” sungchan said clearly.

when you woke up the next morning, sungchan had dug himself out from under the blankets. he had risen revived from your forgiveness while you were left alone in the grave.

#01zfan: sungchan #seriez: sacrilegious #sungchan smut #riize smut

[actual-changeling]

I have written many meta posts and s3-theories, and read even more, but I got hit by an idea I have not seen before. (If there is another post, please link it!)

After vibrating for an hour and losing my mind in my dms, I have no scraped together enough brain cells to present what is probably my first actual 'main-plot meta'.

Welcome to another edition of Alex's unhinged meta corner, today with a title to honour Crowley's James Bond obsession and the possibility of another heaven heist.

I give you:

From Jesus with Love - You Will Live Twice

Now, let's get right into it.

I think Neil might have told us more about the main s3 plotline in the announcement article than we previously thought. We all got stuck on 'they're not talking'—for good reason—but it is the part before that which has been bugging me ever since then.

The plans are going wrong—and this time that is a problem for earth and humanity. Turning that around, it means that whatever that plan consists of would be the way to go and beneficial for everyone, the opposite of the main plot of s1.

"They need to prevent the Second Coming (SC)" is pretty much the only and most popular idea I have seen, hundreds of fics and metas and whatnot have been written about it, but I think there's a good chance we're wrong. If we're not, well, I will honestly just be happy to be watching season 3.

Whatever the Metatron is planning will have negative consequences for everyone, or as Michael puts it: "And so… it ends. Everything ends. Time and the world is over, and we begin Eternity… forever and ever."

It sounds very much like Apocalypse #1 - Same Old Plan, same expected result, yet if we look at different interpretations of scripture we find that the SC is not entirely about complete destruction and death for all of humanity—it is about creating a new world/migrating to the kingdom of God.

This is taken from the Wikipedia article about the SC

Resurrection and life in a world to come are a direct contradiction to the result Michael is explaining—total annihilation of humanity.

Now, I am neither religious in any way nor have I ever received any sort of biblical education. Luckily, Christians seem to love talking about the bible because there are dozens of bible website to wade through. If I get anything wrong, please point it out, I have never touched a bible in my life.

So, after reading many, many quotes by a bunch of different guys, I tried to create a somewhat coherent picture of what the SC might look like based on the assumption that the end result is positive. I will talk about how they can be interpreted more in-depth later, otherwise this would turn into a string-net very fast.

Additionally, we can also see where these points overlap with the statement Jimbriel gave in the bookshop in episode three.

What is Jesus' job description?

only God knows when and how exactly it will begin/happen, no one else does, including Jesus and the Metatron

a lot of different catastrophes are mentioned or quoted as something Jesus said, like earthquakes and storms -> Jimbriel mentioned a tempest and great storms

there is also the line "All these are the beginning of birth pains." Birth pains dictate that there will be a birth—birth of the world to come perhaps?

dead people will be resurrected/leave their graves so that they too can be judged (I'd say participate in it but that sounds like the Second Coming is a summer camp activity)

there are also mentions of stars and the heavens in general falling from the sky and the sun going dark -> Jimbriel also mentions darkness as one of the signs

great lamentations, as Jimbriel says, are also a part of many different passages, with humans mourning the world as it was

the Lord will descent with the voice of an Archangel and the sound of a trumpet/the trumpet of God; the grammatical structure of that sentence seems to be interpreted differently depending on who you ask, but the voices of angels/an Archangel and some sort of trumpet are common terms

once everyone is in heaven/wherever the 'main even' will take place, a judgement call will be made for every single person in relation to the book of life, which decides whether they will be punished forever or not (one passage talks about a lake of fire and mentions it several times in a row)

And this is where it gets tricky. To figure out what the SC looks like, we first need to understand a) what the Metatron's capabilities are, b) what he has to lose, and c) what exactly would be a threat to him.

If you ask me, all of this comes down to the Metatron wanting to stay and be in power for eternity with full control over angels so he can do as he please, aka keeping the system running as it is.

We know the book of life (bol) is a thing in the Good Omens universe, whether it does what Michael said is an entirely different question. So far, we have also only got confirmation that hell collects and tortures souls—in such large amounts that they are understaffed—while heaven looks completely empty.

The Metatron runs heaven as an institution, he seems to be the highest power any of the angels have access to and the one they defer to. He refers to himself as the voice of God and combines judge, jury and executioner, making him one great celestial dictator.

From what we know of hell, they do things a lot more democratically, having different councils, dukes, and ranks that are responsible for different levels of command.

We also know that that the Metatron wants the world to end, his goals can probably be summarized as the statement Michael makes, which would leave him in charge without any opposing forces.

We also also know that he sees Crowley and Aziraphale as a threat—why exactly remains a mystery for now—and that the success of his plan hinges on having a Supreme Archangel (SA) he can control. Gabriel decided to become princess of hell and Beez' sugar baby, so he was out of the equation, and after the Armageddon disaster, I don't think he wants to risk failing because of an unfamiliarity with earth (plus, y'know, getting our two idiots away from the plan).

It's interesting to me that right at the end, he says to Aziraphale "We call it the Second Coming"—call, not it is or it will be, CALL. We know that nothing Neil writes is a coincidence, definitely not with such an important line.

Just because you CALL something a specific name doesn't mean it IS what you call it, e.g. Aziraphale calls Crowley a foul fiend when we know he very much isn't.

The Metatron is selling his plan as part of the "Great/Ineffable Plan", so any questions can be blocked by saying it's God's will, it's ineffable. Whatever his plan is, he hides it behind the concept of the Second Coming, which angels know just enough about to understand the basics without having in-depth knowledge of what exactly it entails.

It is a good fucking strategy, I'll give him that, and it WORKS because angels—even if they have doubts—do not question. They simply don't; fear of punishment and millennia of conditioning have left them in a horrible place. When they encounter something unknown, their response is "I already knew that" as to not ask questions.

Crowley questions, we know that, and Aziraphale, ohhhhh, Aziraphale ALSO questions, but he does it in a less dangerous and obvious way. The Metatron is vastly underprepared for that.

(Side note: That alone would be its own meta post, but the gist is that he questions heaven's plans and then adjusts his assumptions of what God might want to what he WANTS God to want, e.g. Job, the Arch)

To summarize everything I just said, the Metatron wants to do what Armageddon failed to do—destroy earth and the universe—so he can be supreme dictator of all remaining celestial beings and gorge himself on power.

But instead of calling it his Big Evil Plan, he calls it the Second Coming, making everyone play along without resistance.

We cycle aaaaall the way back to the sentence I quoted—the ACTUAL plans are going wrong since the Metatron's would mean total destruction.

But what is the SC supposed to be if not the Apocalypse 2.0?

When I look at all the different aspects of the SC and assume a positive outcome, then the end result to me would be a new world that is pretty much like the old world, or maybe even literally the old world but with any destruction reversed. Heaven and hell get dissolved since now that everyone has been "judged", they as institutions are no longer needed, they have fulfilled their purpose.

No more judgement means there is no reason to keep track anymore, so why do you need to run celestial corporations whose only job is doing exactly that? You don't—and THAT is what I believe is the biggest perceived threat to the Metatron, losing full control over everyone and everything, losing his position, his title, and whatever else he has.

On top of that, Good Omens has told us again and again that God doesn't seem to give a fuck about good and evil anymore, and that without heaven and hell being all wrapped up in it, humanity would have 100% free will without any consequences.

Maybe the BoL is empty, maybe it isn't real, maybe Jesus stole it to straighten a wobbly table, who knows. There is a chance it is what Michael says, but I would admittedly find that a bit. too obvious and boring since it would boil the plot down to "they save their own asses again" and not "they save humanity at all cost".

Regarding Crowley and Aziraphale's role in this—I have Thoughts TM but those definitely need their own post. In short, they have to get the SC back on track, the real one.

-

If you have made it this far, thank you for working through what I hope are more or less coherent rambles. Any spelling or grammar mistakes are my own.

Questions? Thoughts? Corrections? Expansions and additions?

Feel free to add to this post however you like (and I can't believe I have to mentions this but if you clown on my post or behave like an asshole you will be blocked).

#alex talks good omens #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #good omens season three speculation #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #good omens s3 #good omens speculation #good omens theories #metatrash #the second coming good omens #long post