For those not in the know, Henry Ford was a rampant antisemite and Nazi sympathizer. He published a book entitled 'The International Jew: The World’s Foremost Problem' in 1920 based on the conspiracy theory known as the protocols of Zion.
Henry Ford is also largely responsible for pioneering the conveyor belt system and setting off the domino chain of industrialization that lead to previously valuable workers being classified as unskilled and replaceable.
He also tried to create some freakish American town in the middle of the Brazilian rainforest literally called Fordlândia in an effort to have his own supply of rubber. His refusal to even attempt to understand local culture and climate caused it to be an unmitigated disaster.
what do you mean elon musk did a nazi salute on live tv at the united states presidential inauguration twice and is now erasing the evidence off the internet by replacing the footage with the crowd cheering instead?
would be a shame if people reblogged this, wouldn’t it?
Aaron Bushnell it's trending. His name is trending. His screams of Free Palestine weren't in vain. Because Tumblr can try and censore palestinian blogs, and keep palestine from trending, but we will always find a way to bring revolution to the world.
He’s so cocky at first, smirking when you bottom down on his length. “Think you can handle it baby? Take your time if you need to kay? I know it might be too much f’ you.” He chuckles.
You raise a brow in amusement. “Oh i can handle it baby, can you?” Was what you’d first said. And that question hadn’t changed since.
His lips parted in breathy groans and heavy breathing as his hands find your waist. Lips red and swollen from biting them as his eyes looked up at you almost pleadingly. “F-fuck baby.. you’re— shit, going so f-fast. Wanna slow d-down hmm?”
You smile widely, back arching as you lean down to kiss his jaw softly. Giving a false hum in thought. “Mmm.. you can take it.” He lets out the most cry like moan, head falling back into his pillow as his hips jerk upwards. Body trembling lightly when his eyes met yours.
“Shit— please baby. You d-don’t know how fucking- haah.. how fucking tight she’s grippin’ me right now.” He was referring to the way your snug walls stroked up and down his length with every harsh bounce of your hips. “I’m gonna— o-oh fuck, gonna cum again.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at the crack in his voice. Your head tilted to the side as you coo teasingly. “Yeah? Gonna be a good boy n cum f’ me baby?”
He chuckles shakily, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as his cock twitches inside you. “God i fucking love you— ahh, even when you’re milking my cock like you hate m-me.” His senses were heightened, ears picking up the every squelch on your sopping pussy and his cock feeling every ridge of your gummy walls.
He lost it when you began rolling your hips sensually. Your thighs sticking to his at the mere amount of slick that joined you two. Your wetness and his cum seeping between your folds and down his girth, turning your skilled movements sloppy as you rut your hips.
You brought a hand to his face, using your nail to brush his hair off of his sweaty forehead. “C’ mon.. let it all out.” You smiled sweetly, eyes holding a dark glint when his eyes turn teary. Small beads of water pooling at his lids before he’s crying out your name.
Overly sensitive cock aching as he spills yet another load into you. Pumping the thick white substance till you’re pumped full. The rest of the substance spurting back onto him at the lack of space.
You let out a moan, “Wow baby- there’s so much. Might.. might just be your biggest load yet.” You were getting tired, but you’d never let him know that. You swear you hear him whimper when you capture his lips with yours slowly beginning to rock your hips again.
“Shit— don’t think- d-don’t think i can give you any more baby. Feels like my cock’s gonna f-fall off.” He panted, trying to keep himself together when he felt you jerking him off with your smug walls again. A small tremble raking through his body each time your ass landed back down.
His hand left your waist to cover his reddening face. Unable to hide the cherry shade of his ears and neck as he whimpered yet again. Choking out a string of moans with tears staining his cheeks when you shush him gently, “‘S only one more baby, give me one more.”
You were the only one with the ability to truly break Satoru if you tried.
There's something about your husband that drives you crazy, maybe it's the way he knows your preferences in bed, or the way he crashes his hips into yours. Zhongli told you he wouldn't let you go, especially now that he's made this promise to you, the most battle-hardened oath of fidelity he's ever sworn, the contract he'd never think of breaking.
His hands slide down your hips, he has already finished another round with you and is already preparing you for the third. He stands tall over you, his figure overshadowing your frail, anxious form. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, and as you watch him with those sweet, devoted eyes, your lashes framing the oasis of love you give him, he hates himself. How could he even mention his former conquests at a time like this? He wanted to make up for his mistake, to redeem his indiscretion, that's why he had come clean with you, that's why he had made the promise he had been afraid to make for so long.
"I'm going to take advantage of every second, every word that comes out of your mouth, every movement of your body..." he had said a few hours ago, and fuck... yes, he was going to keep it.
He slides back inside you, your pussy throbbing and your hips reflexively moving away from his. You find yourself exhausted, the overstimulation not doing you any good.
"Zhongli~" your voice is barely audible.
"No, call me like you just did," he growls low, and you notice a darkness in his eyes that you hadn't seen before. The presence in the room becomes heavy, the air almost palpable, your husband's growl almost animalistic.
"Morax," you whisper between gasps, Zhongli's eyes, piercing and stalking, fixed on yours. You know he likes it when you use his Archon name... you know what you provoke in him, though you are never prepared for the consequences.
"I never want you to think again that you are just another woman in my life, one of my lovers," he decrees as his tongue slips into the curve of your neck, "I will keep you subdued in this bed all week if I have to, so you don't get any ideas like that."
"All week?" you ask anxiously, Zhongli's tone, though seductive, is quite serious, and you know that when he makes a promise, he is reluctant to break it.
"Dear y/n," he smiles against your skin, "I already told you that a week in your human mind is like an hour to me...".
"Morax," you whisper almost pleadingly, caressing his cheek.
"Didn't you say you'd give me your whole life?" he teases, his mouth sliding between your breasts, leaving wet kisses on your stomach, "I already told you that you're the woman I'll be with until my mortal life is over... don't you think I should enjoy everything you can give me as a wife?" he smiles between your legs, giving you a rather captivating honey look.
"M... Morax~" you gasp, almost on the verge of tears. You can't escape, not when he's already got your legs around his shoulders and is tantalizing your womanhood with his warm fingers, not when he looks like a starving man who's found his last supper between your legs....
"I'm going to eat this pussy of yours," he announces, and fuck, you know he's going to do it, and do it well, because he's a god eating you.
The sound of Zhongli's tongue between your folds is intoxicating, morbid and very vulgar, just like the moans coming from your throat, rough, choked, full of lust. You feel his reptilian tongue reach your walls as a heat rises inside you, the same one his mouth consumes between gustatory gasps.
"So sweet," he whispers against your clit, the vibration of his voice eliciting an embarrassed moan, your legs parting even further to give him access to his slick tongue.
"So devoted...showing that perfect pussy to your Archon. You want to prove you're the most faithful follower, don't you?" he says, his thumb gliding over your clit, tracing wide, slow circles, painfully slow, but with just enough pressure to cause a burst of pleasure.
Zhongli's tongue slides back inside you, spreading to every nook and cranny of your insides, stirring your sex hungrily as his fingers continue to play with your ball of nerves.
You squirm under his movements, running your hand through his hair, tangling your husband's jet locks between your fingers. Your legs, as if overwhelmed by an electric current, release slight spasms every time his tongue touches that delicious spot inside you.
You are a mess before him, naked and sweaty, your legs spread like a bitch in heat that needs to be penetrated, your voice hoarse from screaming his name and begging for more. Your eyes are blank, your lips are parted, and your back is arched. Zhongli moves deftly, his nose brushing sensitive parts of your pussy, sporadic giggles vibrating against your skin, soft bites on your folds....
"I love you," he whispers as he tangles your clit with his tongue and his hands move up in search of your breasts.
It's the end of you, you know it when he starts to play with your flesh while his face is buried, concentrating on your abused nub. The heat builds, your moans are erratic and irregular, the feeling of Zhongli's hands kneading your breasts adding the finishing touch to the formation of that tangle of hot sensations in your belly.
"I love you, fuck... and I will always love you, only you, only you..." he adds pleadingly, eager for his words to penetrate your being as he leaves fiery kisses on your bulge.
The flame explodes and as you writhe under him, victim of the outburst of pleasure, he holds you in place, his hands still on your breasts and his face in your pussy. You cry out in pleasure, fuck, he's never eaten you as well as he just did.
"Don't you doubt me anymore darling?" he whispers, coming closer to your chin, leaving gentle kisses on the corners of your lips, you feel the taste of his breath and your own juices.
"No... not anymore," you let out between exhilarated gasps. Desire runs through your body as it does through his.
"My beautiful little devoted creature," he adds, leaving a kiss on your forehead and caressing your cheek, lulling you with the soft movements of his fingers on your skin, "you know how to make me happy... you take such good care of me."
You feel how he holds you against his chest, locked in his arms, feeling the passionate beating of his loving heart, while he whispers senselessly, making you fall asleep in the arms of your wonderful husband...
Warnings: blasphemous smut, misuse/destruction of religious structures/texts/rituals, demonic possession, butt plugs, mimicking blow job, oral sex (female receiving), pegging.
(Originally posted to beyond-repentance)
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The cathedral was vacant, an ominous darkness blanketing the halls and rooms apart from dim light that poured through the altar doors, the orange glow growing more vibrant by the minute. With a quick glance at your watch, you opened the heavy ornate altar doors to find dozens upon dozens of blazing candles decorating the altar and beyond, the man you were meeting for a midnight visit waiting patiently at the communion table.
To the average onlooker, he was simply laying himself bare at the feet of Christ, a priest offering his body, mind, and soul for judgement under the oppressive crucifix that bore into him, the bible opened underneath him, entranced in a cloud of whispered Hail Mary’s as he did penance for his soul.
But he was no holy man. And while he was laying himself bare, it wasn’t for Christ.
His pale, naked skin glistened almost iridescently against the flickering candle light, the flames growing and abating with his breathing. A wicked smile gradually bloomed on your lips as you ambled down the center aisle, his breathing subtly quickening with each approaching step of your feet against the marbled floors, the dancing flames growing higher with the passing of each pew.
You noticed a slight shiver breaking over his skin as you climbed the couple of stairs to join him, his legs and cheeks clenching as you hummed your approval of the sight you were currently beholding.
A deviant, corrupt man of the cloth, a most unholy imposter, completely naked, bent over the communion table with his legs spread wide.
And all for you.
Your fingertips traced over the swell of his ass, your eyes watching him pucker around the ruby-adorned, inverted cross plug that sat between his cheeks. You kneaded his supple skin, your nails burrowing in as his fingers replicated yours elsewhere, his ringed knuckles turning a new shade of white as he gripped the table’s edge harder, anticipation making his breathing tattered. Your thumb traces around the edge of the rubied plug, pushing the bejeweled toy deeper into him as you squared your hips to his ass, grinding your artificial length against him as your nails raked up the expanses of his back.
“Did you wear this all day for me?” You pulled at the plug, eliciting a muffled groan from him as he pushed back against your hand, desperate for more friction as he nodded his flushed face, his forehead collapsed against the black cloth adorning the table. Your hand moved further up his back and into his long, silky blonde hair, jerking his head up and back as you spanked him hard, the thunderous clap reverberating off of the walls. “I asked you a question, Father Langdon.”
He swallowed through his shaky affirmation, his fingers gathering the black cloth for support as your hand wandered hungrily around his waist, your fingertips ghosting over his throbbing cock, jumping toward the direction of your minuscule touch. Your hand encased him, the movement of your wrist languid and steady as you manipulated the plug in tandem, smiling against his skin as he whispered your name like a prayer toward the mosaic ceiling.
“Turn around.”
You stepped back to afford him room to move, your lip immediately caught between your teeth as your eyes feasted on his cock, a bead of precum dripping onto his foreskin as he took the couple of steps toward you. You fought the urge to drop to your knees in front of him, to take him between your lips and drink him dry like his cum was a both the body and blood of Christ. But as he captured your desirous lips between his, his feisty hands exploring the hidden treasure that sat beneath your pants, you wanted to see those delicious lips elsewhere. “On your knees, Father.”
He knelt down agonizingly slow, his lusty eyes never parting with yours as he positioned himself in front of your hips, his nose nuzzling against your fake bulge as he unfastened your pants. His eyes grew wide as the black and red dildo fell from its confines, landing on his flushed cheek as he continued to remove your pants, licking his swollen lips before skimming them over side of the silicone shaft.
“Have you examined your conscience today?” You brushed his hair away from his face as he looked up at you, his fingers enclosed around the dildo, slowly tugging as he shook his head.
Your eyes flittered to the contents of the communion table, immediately spotting the beaded piece of red and black iconography. Taking the few short steps, you collected the Rosary, intertwining it between your fingers as you resumed your place in front of him. “Well you should, Father...” Your thumb traced over his parted lips, pushing it past his teeth and over his tongue. “Especially with what I plan to do to you...”
“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee...” His voice was low but powerful as he chanted the first round of prayer, the sacred words echoing off of the cathedral walls despite his quiet tone, as if the voice was not his own, but a voice of something ancient and more sinister. “Blessed art thou amongst women...” His eyes grew dark, his irises disappearing as he matched your lustful gaze, a nefarious smile consuming his mouth as the tip of the dildo bounced off of his lips. “And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.”
You watched the tip of the dildo disappear between his plush lips, his head slowly bobbing as his fingers explored the skin of your legs, ravenously groping your ass as the toy slowly disappeared in his mouth, inch by inch until his nose grazed against the harness. You gasped as the sight, your breathing hitched as he slowly backs off of the silicone, a string of saliva connecting his lips to the toy as he looked at you again. “Holy Mary, Mother of God...” You moaned as your head fell backward, his fingers exploring your folds, his thumb landing on your clit as he plunged two fingers deep within you. “Pray for us sinners...”
“Now and at the hour of our d -“ Your nails burrowed into his broad shoulders for support as his fingertips grazed your g-spot repeatedly, his mouth encapsulating the dildo again as he inhaled the length down his throat. Your hand gripped him at the nape of his neck, pulling him further onto the toy as he pulled you closer to him by your core. “D- death...”
His skilled fingers pummeled into you hastily, evoking a blossoming warmth in the pit of your stomach as you panted over him, the sight of his mouth engulfing the dildo mixed with his fingers almost enough to make you fully come undone. He growled against the toy as you clenched uncontrollably around his fingers, sending a vibration throughout your core, your hips pushing into his fingers insatiably.
The coil tightened rapidly with each thrust of his curved fingers onto your sensitive wall, his thumb rubbing tight circles around your clit as his head moved quicker over your artificial cock. As you looked down, your eyes landed on his throbbing length, harder than you’ve ever witnessed, prodding into nothingness in tandem with his busied fingers. Sense memory reminded you what his cock was made of, how his soft skin felt like velvet dragging over your lips and tongue, how his long, precise thrusts could make your body quiver uncontrollably as his cock touched a part of you that only he knew about, how he pulsated his cum into you, steadying your trembling, quaking hips as he grunted a vulgar, depraved Latin prayer onto your lips.
You felt your walls start to flutter as he grunted over the dildo, the symphony of garbled words and squelched wetness resonating around the nave and transepts. You were too consumed in your growing promise of orgasm that you barely noticed him abandon the spit covered dildo, pushing it against the harness to allow his hungry tongue to replace his thumb on your swollen clit, flicking wildly before enveloping the bundle of nerves with his lips.
With a few long winded sucks and twirls of his tongue, you came with a force that threatened to make your knees buckle, your fingers digging into his skin as you cried his name. His tongue replaced his fingers as he lapped through your lips, devouring all the arousal he possibly could as his nose continued to rub on your swollen clit, sending shock waves through your soul.
Your mind was clouded with post-orgasmic bliss as he parted from you, his mouth and chin covered in your cum as he slipped the silicone dildo back over his tongue. Your eyes peered south, noticing the string of precum dangling from his cock, begging for release, swaying like a pendulum with the movements of his head. You had every intention to oblige him. Your fingers caressed his hollowed cheek as you pulled the dildo out of his eager mouth, your hand clasping his chin to crane his head upward. “Open up, Father Langdon…”
You dangled the red and black Rosary over his opened lips, the cross settling over his tongue as the rest of the beads followed suit, your fingers ushering his chin to close. His eyes were wide with bewilderment as your thumb swept over his lips, your lips replacing your thumb with a quick kiss before your fingers wrapped around his pleading, weeping cock. “Don’t let it fall out…”
His hips shuddered into your fingers, his nostrils flaring as he breathed rapidly, his groans muffled by the enclosed Rosary. “Go stand in front of the communion table and I’ll give you what you deserve…” He scurried to the table, facing away from you, his hands stabilizing his leaning body on the top of the tablet as you re-clothed your bottom half before ambling toward him from behind, your shoe pushing his legs apart.
“Father Langdon,” you murmured as you brushed his hair behind his shoulder, littered with the red and purple markings of your nails, “I believe you have two more Hail Mary’s to recite to fully examine your conscience.” Your fingertips tiptoed their way down his spine and over his tailbone, nestling between his cheeks until your felt the warm metal of the plug moving against your fingers. You twisted the toy between your fingertips as you littered kissed over your nail marks on your way to his neck, pulling the toy out slowly until it hit the floor with a loud clash.
“And I’m going to fuck you,” you whispered against his ear, your two fingers sliding into his stretched hole with ease, finding his pleasure center immediately. His low, guttural groan almost sounded demonic as you pressed against him, the ever-growing string of precum puddling on the old bible text. He rose on his toes with each plunge against his prostate, his fingers gathering the cloth of the table as a surrogate for his cock that he was beyond desperate to grab. “Like you fuck me while you pray to your holy mother…”
You retrieved the small bottle of lubricant from your pocket, placing a large dollop on the head of the dildo, spreading it along the shaft with your fingers as you watched his ribcage heave in eagerness. Squaring up to his hips, you let the dildo fall between his cheeks, the lubricant helping to slide the silicone down to his hole. Your fingers embraced his hips as you slowly pushed forward, exhaling as you watched the toy disappear inside of him inch by inch until there was nothing more for him to take.
His goose bump ridden skin was damp against your wandering hands, caressing his lower back and thighs as you withdrew almost entirely, only to plunge forward again, angling your hips to brush against his prostate. His distorted groans were deafening, otherworldly as you drove into him repeatedly, holding his hips for leverage as the communion table squeaked in resistance against his legs. Your fingers raked up his spine as you continued your long thrusts, fisting his sweaty hair before pulling his back to your front, your hand fisting his cock. “I won’t let you cum until you complete them.” He nodded enthusiastically, a muffled “yes” falling from his busied mouth. “Without any mistakes…”
“Hail Mary, full of grace…” Your hand jerked him leisurely as you collected the sweat off his back with your tongue, mulling over his sinful taste as you listened to his muffled, strained words, speaking around the Rosary. As he continued the garbled prayer, your thrusts became faster, catching him off guard as he grunted, the words coming out in sporadic stumbles, his sharp pull on the tablecloth causing the communion chalice to topple off with a loud crash.
“Father Langdon, having trouble with some prayers, are we?” The crack of your palm against his ass made him groan, your hands squeezing his cock as you caught his first mistake, his hole clenching around the silicone as he whimpered a string of indecipherable expletives. You halted your thrusts, your fingers kneading into his ass before you pulled out agonizingly slow, only to slam back into him, driving the communion table forward. “Do we need to begin again?”
He shook his head, beads of sweat flying from his forehead as he began the prayer again. You stippled kisses along his spine as you stilled within him for a brief moment, your fingers gradually pumping his cock as your other hand caressed his balls. Your smiled wickedly against his as you felt his hips jutting against your hands, impatient to satiate the need to cum. You spanked him again, a warning that you’d leave him unsatisfied if he continued without your blessing.
The flares of the candles burst into fires as he started the last jumbled verse, your stilled hips now picking up speed, your hand jerking him with vigor as the supporting communion table slid inch by inch, thrust by thrust across the altar floor. “Look at her while you finish…” Your hand craned his head toward the virgin Mary stained glass, staring down at the both of you while you wreck him, swearing you could see a tear fall from the glass’ eye.
At once, his mangled words became vividly clear, dozens of voices whispering and murmuring in swirling chants, speaking languages that seemed long dead, the Hail Mary prayer becoming an menacing mantra that reverberated throughout the structures of the cathedral. You swore that his skin changed under your fingertips, the smooth perfection now seemingly an unearthly shade of broken white skin as you pummeled into him, his features becoming distorted into something you didn’t readily recognize under the blaze of the raging fires that sat atop their small wicks.
With a few more well placed thrusts, he roared his release, his hoarse shouts sounding like it was summoned from the depths of hell as ropes of cum shot out of his cock, landing in rivulets on the old velum pages of the bible that was positioned below him. The stained glass windows burst, the chilled, viscous wind gusted throughout the altar as his guttural groans continued. He thrusted messily into your hand as he rode out his intense pleasure, the rosary falling from his parted lips chaotically as his prolonged orgasm consumed him.
You kissed his shoulder as you pulled out, his skin returning to its original texture and color, his face heavily satiated as his flushed cheek rested against the table. You shoved the dildo back into your pants, fastening the zipper before you leaned over him the final time. “Perhaps next time I can exercise the devil from you,” you murmured in his ear, your eyes flittering to the broken stained glass that littered the area.
Summary: There is a balance between pain and pleasure, between life and death. Michael loves that you willingly walk that line with him. But when you both veer off into the harsh darkness, it is you that brings everything back into focus.
Forgiveness is a fickle thing. Elusive, yet frequently desired. Always needed but rarely gained. If there is one thing Michael was certain of before this point, never would he seek forgiveness. It is for the weak-willed, those that don’t have the strength to step on and over the bodies of their allies and enemies. It’s designed for those that hold hope close and humanity even closer.
No, forgiveness is not for Michael.
Power, on the other hand, was something he craves desperately. Much like the oxygen he relies on to keep his mortal body alive, it is the required element that he can not live without. He was born of it: the obsidian rage. And can now feel it vibrating, almost with an aching rattle, in his bones.
More and more he yearns for it. He finds tethers of it in the fear washing over those at Hawthorne. Michael finds that power looms heavy in the eyes of the waning Supreme and it drips from her word. Though she does her best to use it, each time they meet, it flows from her and seeps into his every pore. It’s everywhere he looks and he salivates over it like a rabid beast after its next meal.
taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!!) ; @darkened-sunrises @instincts-baby @angelicmichael @anangelwhodidntfall @frenchlangdon @whatcodysaid @prophecy-is-inevitable @infernwetrust @fernfiction @thatspookyagent
Authors note ; basically, sub outpost michael is slept on and idk why??? like look at that hair, that’s some shit i wanna yank on. might do a part two to this idk bc this is a fucking mess LOL i wrote it in like 5 hours
Warnings (please let me know if i forgot any!) ; sub outpost michael, use of restraints, use of blindfolds, sex toys, anal penetration (male receiving), anal fingering (male receiving), mean reader, wax play, gimp suits (idk this took a weird turn), insinuations of pegging, very minor CBT, etc.
Michael getting you pregnant with twin boys? Being happy and overhwlemed realizing you are going to birth 2 boys and he gets to be the father he never had. (I feel like I'm outing myself with this request to people who know me lol.)
Thanks for this! ^_^
Warnings: Breeding kink, vaginal sex, dirty talk, and some fluff.
Michael Langdon could not stop touching you. You both have always had this ravishingly whirlwind relationship, often discussed behind closed doors (that you would purposely fuck against, so those people could hear you.) and this time, it’s no different. A few months ago, you noticed that Michael had started being a little more easy with you, somewhat unsure, and even distant. He had been confused, asking you why you didn’t seem to know yet.
It had only taken you a few moments to process his features, his rings combing a soft pace across the skin of your stomach, as if to pass off his own version of a lullaby, for you to figure out what he meant. Pregnant. You hadn’t known, not even a morsel. Because being aware of carrying the antichrist’s child, and hoping to be - those were two very different things. Since that night you have been clinging to him like rain to the clouds.
A family. His sons. Healthy and strong, just like their mother.
He’s got you perched atop his lap, his long legs stretched out below your bottom, helping to keep yours open. One hand is pressed over your swollen belly, another wrapped around your full breast. His cock moves in even strokes, only getting rougher when you command them.
“Can’t believe this is what we did to create our little creatures.”
You give a breathless smile at his word usage, knowing he was headed for being a little extra talkative tonight. His cock is soaked in your essence, the chair sopping between your thighs.
“Love how you filled me up nice and good, Michael. I’m all yours.” You coo.
His firm hips pump wildly against your ass, unable to stop the slip in control.
“It’s okay. I want you to.” You grip the hand attached to your breast, bringing each fingertip to your mouth for a slow kiss, purposely sucking them into your mouth.
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
DIRECTIONS:
Place a chicken breast on a cutting board. With your hand flat on top of it, carefully slice the chicken in half horizontally. Trim excess fat as needed.
In a large shallow baking dish, combine chicken, pickle juice and ½ cup milk; marinate for at least 30 minutes. Drain well.
Heat peanut oil in a large skillet over medium high heat.
In another large shallow baking dish, whisk together remaining 1 cup milk and egg. Stir in chicken to coat and drain excess milk mixture.
In a gallon size Ziploc bag or large bowl, combine chicken, flour and confectioners’ sugar; season with salt and pepper, to taste.
Working in batches, add chicken to the skillet and cook until evenly golden and crispy, about 4-5 minutes. Transfer to a paper towel-lined plate.
Serve chicken immediately on burger buns with green leaf lettuce, tomato and pickles.
So @just-someone-who-likes-to-write asked me how it was for Langdon to have a female body and I wrote this.
I didn’t talk about it, but of course Jimmy can get pregnant. If Langdon was with a male lover, they still would be able to be parents, when now Y/N can have a baby with Michael, Duncan and/or Xavier. (No spoil, but they talk about Gestalt and babies in the book)
Langdon had no gender. Three male bodies, one female body. Inside, Langdon wasn’t thinking with those kinds of details. Langdon was Langdon. They didn’t mind someone saying ‘he’ or 'she’ when talking about them. They were a little annoyed when we said 'that’. They understood that discussions were complicated if we had to say 'Langdon’ all the time, so they preferred to have their bodies talked about using their first names, even if it was always them. They appreciated the effort made to say 'them’.
No gender therefore, and bodies that allowed them to experience everything that men and women experienced. The best and the worst. For Michael, Duncan and Xavier, there wasn’t much of a problem to be honest. Three white men, tall, handsome. Life was sweet. It was only the uncontrollable erection in the morning that was painful, but other than that they couldn’t complain.
Being a woman was more complicated, Langdon understood very quickly. Already at Glengrove, even knowing the kids were just one being, everyone treated Jimmy differently. Like a fragile little thing. She had to be gentle and polite. Nice baby doll. When the boys played loudly, she had to read in silence. They could get dirty, not her. On the contrary, she could cry, not them. The boys had a black uniform with pants and a shirt. Jimmy had a dress. To please her, a nurse gave her a teddy bear, which would watch over her in her sleep. Strangely, the boys didn’t need that, they weren’t afraid of the dark. Ridiculous.
Jimmy was separated from the other bodies very early on, forced to sleep in the girls’ dormitory. On the one hand, it was normal that she did not sleep with the other boys, who would have been embarrassed to see her in their locker room or near their things. But at the same time, Langdon was Langdon. What Jimmy saw, all the bodies saw. She saw the other girls, undressing without embarrassment in front of her, without understanding what that meant. Langdon therefore decided to be very careful and never to look. If anyone understood, they would be in trouble.
Growing up, Langdon understood that when they used Jimmy’s body, they had to behave in a very special way. Not like a man. It was what was expected of them, otherwise Jimmy would look askance. For a long time, they forced themselves to have very long hair, longer than Michael’s. Jimmy had to wear makeup. High heels. Skirts. Perfume. Mostly, she had to smile, all the time. Looking down at their bosses, not talking back, looking weak and obedient. It was very useful in the field, they could take their enemy by surprise. It was very painful with colleagues and people in genral.
It was with the help of (Y N) that Jimmy was able to assert herself a little more. Because (Y/N) refused to behave 'like a woman’. Sometimes she did things that men thought were feminine, but she did them because she wanted to, not to please them.
"What does that mean anyway, like a woman ? If I have to force myself to do something, then it’s not natural ! Does that mean I’m not a real woman ? That I’m only half a woman, a failed woman ? Because I refuse inequality, that I don’t like girly things, that I want to be respected ? Please Langdon, don’t tell me that you wear a mask when using Jimmy.“
"I wear a mask when I use all my bodies, I compartmental…”
"Yes yes, blah blah blah, but are there things that you would like to do with this body that you don’t do because you think a woman shouldn’t do it ? Or that you do because you were told a woman had to do it ?“
"I… People are more comfortable. It doesn’t matter.”
"It does matter, Langdon. It does.“
After this conversation, Jimmy cut her hair. Langdon had always wanted to cut her hair, she looked much more beautiful with this pixie haircut. Jimmy put on less makeup, wore lower heels, and when someone pissed her off, she would respond, keeping her soft reassuring smile. It was liberating, it was fun, it was natural.
Very soon, after realizing that they sometimes forced themselves to use Jimmy for certain tasks just because she was a woman, (Y/N) wanted to know if they were doing it with her too. Because it was often Jimmy who listened to her worries, who went shopping with her, who took care of her when she was sick.
"Do you think I would be intimidated if it was Michael, Duncan or Jimmy ?”
“You want to talk about your period with Xavier ?”
"Why not ? Would you be embarrassed ?“
"No, but I thought it would be easier for you to talk about this stuff with a woman. It would be less awkward if Jimmy came into the dressing room to help you put on a dress. Less questions from the employees too. The image of the mother who takes care of…”
"Don’t. finish this sentence.“ she growled. "Firstly because I don’t see Jimmy as my mother, otherwise our relationship would be very fucked up. Second, why will it be the mother’s responsibility to take care of the children, or the people, when they are sick ? Where is the father ? He’s dead ? If he’s not dead, he has no excuses !”
“I don’t mind taking care of you with another body, I just wanted you to feel good. I… I admit that I maybe incorporated some nonsense as a child and I hard to get rid of it.”
“I know.” sighed (Y/N) coming over to hug Jimmy and Xavier. Michael and Duncan were in the office. “But that’s okay if you know that and try to stop.”
“I don’t think women are inferior to men at all.”
"Langdon, I know. I’ll help you.“
The best way to help Langdon for (Y/N) was to treat them equally regardless of the body they were using. She already did this in general, with people, although she was very supportive of women and quite critical of men, but still wanting to be fair and egalitarian with everyone. It was the same with Langdon. Langdon was Langdon, whether they were in the body of Jimmy, Michael, Xavier or Duncan. No favouritism, no difference. There were only a few details in bed that varied the positions.
The only time (Y/N) and Jimmy shared an all-female experience was during their period. At the start of the relationship, it didn’t happen at the same time. (Y/N) then took care of Jimmy, while all of Langdon’s bodies followed one another at (Y/N)’s bedside until she felt better. Then, after several months, nature decided to piss them off at the same time. They would then stay in bed together, drinking tea, watching TV and hugging a hot water bottle to their stomachs.
"Why ? Why are we having this the same day ?!”
"Studies say that when two women see each other very often, their periods sometimes synchronize.“ Jimmy sighed, resting her head on (Y/N)’s shoulder.
"Great. Women suffer at the same time to support each other. It’s funny, it’s like we share this, that I’m one of your bodies, except you don’t control me, we just have the same pain. Are the boys in pain too ?”
“I’m compartmentalizing so no. But I can fix that if you want five bodies to be unfit for work this week.”
"Nah. It’s not fair, but at least you can keep doing things while we’re quietly bundled up in the blankets. Like making dinner, and massaging our feet, and singing a lullaby.“
"Do you realize that technically I’ll massage my feet and sing myself a lullaby, so I get no pleasure from it unlike you ?”
"Do you want me to call a masseur ?“
"No one but me will touch your feet.”
Langdon had no gender. They didn’t really have a sexual preference either then. Besides Duncan, they had used their bodies to seduce a lot of people, they had fucked everything that existed, everywhere, in all possible ways, without it having the slightest importance to them. Until (Y/N). Langdon was Langdon, they had found they could be whatever they wanted, but around her they were mostly terribly possessive and jealous. She could be with whatever body she wanted, it didn’t matter, Langdon weren’t jealous of themselves, but if anyone else tried to approach her they would stick their claws out. Without doing it on purpose, especially with Jimmy.
The boys only had to squint for the intruder to walk away and it ended there. With Jimmy, Langdon didn’t know when to stop. She followed the idiot, grabbed them by the neck and looking them straight in the eye, promised them a slow and painful death if they started circling around (Y/N) again. Always smiling, like a sweet and charming woman.
"I’m hungry.“ moaned (Y/N) squirming in bed.
"Michael has finished his work, he will be here soon. I will prepare whatever you want for us.”
"Isn’t it weird for you to go from 'he’ to 'I’ in the middle of a sentence ?“
"No. Do you want a homemade pizza ?”
"With lots of cheese !“ she said snuggling up to Jimmy. "And pepperoni !”
"I have to check if there is any in the fridge, otherwise Xavier will go and buy some before coming home, I will add them to the oven.“
"And so it’s Duncan who will massage our feet singing lullabies.”
"He will be delighted.“
"You mean that YOU will be delighted.”
Despite the pain, Langdon laughed, as (Y/N) fell asleep peacefully, muttering that she wanted hot oil for the pizza too, because she liked it when it was spicy. Xavier wrote it down on his shopping list, Michael removed his coat to put on his apron, and Duncan searched for massage methods. Langdon had no gender, Jimmy could do all the boys were doing and vice versa, but in their house, (Y/N) would be treated like a queen, meaning she would never had to do anything. It was their job, as a lover.
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