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persephone-is-here-omg · 3 years

Text

In Nomine Patris.

Pairing: Priest!Bucky Barnes/Reader.

Warnings: Smut. This fic features explicit sexual content involving a catholic priest, if that isn’t your thing or it offens you skip this one. If you know this offends you and you still read it, whatever feelings you experience after are your problem, not mine. Otherwise, enjoy. Slight chocking.

Word Count: 5530.

Rating: 18+.

Masterlist.

Father Barnes has your panties in his pocket.

_____________

You brush your hands nervously down your dress as you step into the church and locate the few family members that have made it out today to your youngest cousin’s First Communion. Truth be told you haven’t been near a church in almost three years, struggling with your faith and the relationship with your family has left you nearly isolated. You scurry to a place beside your aunt and greet her with a smile and a kiss as she points out to your cousin, seated on one of the very first benches on the dress that has become somewhat of a family relic, you wave at her and blow a kiss in her direction as she smiles and sits back down.

Your eyes move around the church from the back to the front slowly, landing on some familiar faces. When your gaze falls on the priest your heart skips a beat, he looks at you intently, his blue eyes fixed on you and you can’t look away. His lips curl slightly upwards, he looks away, you don’t know what his expression means and your aunt looks at you “I see you’ve discovered the new priest”

You look at her and blink in confusion, you had been away so long that the priest had been changed and you had no knowledge about it, you look at him again and notice the glove in his left hand, your curiosity picking up.

“When did he arrive?” You ask her, trying to not sound as affected as you feel.

“Monday. Antonia wouldn’t stop talking about him until I reminded her that he is a man of God and talking that way about him was wrong”

You nod, your eyes finding him again as he directs the altar boys in preparing everything for Mass.

Soon enough mass starts and everyone is listening intently to what Father Barnes has to say, you think about how much you’d rather be anywhere but here. Mass advances and the kids at the front are lining up to take the Communion for the first time, Father Barnes instructs everyone else to wait until they are done, then the adults will be able to take theirs. Your cousin waves as she heads back towards her seat, a serene smile on her lips.

Slowly everyone else starts to file into the queue, you included using your hands to smooth down your dress, your nerves grow as you come closer and closer to the front and face to face with Father Barnes. You consider going back to your seat, but if you do you probably won’t hear the end of it.

The person in front of you walks away and you look at him, his eyes are a bright blue and deep, his lips are full and he has a beard framing them. The short hair is styled carefully, but classically. You open your mouth as he raises his hand to it.

“The body of Christ” He says, his fingers press the Sacramental Bread against your tongue, his fingers applying some pressure on it, something no priest has ever done before. You look at him wide eyed, as your lips close around the tips of his fingers, something you have never done to a priest before. Your heart beats fast as you step away and lower your eyes trying to push what just happened away from your mind.

That night you fall prey to a fitful sleep, tossing and turning, unable to get any real rest.

Monday morning you’re surprised when your aunt knocks on your door as you are having your morning coffee, she walks in and looks at you “There’s a part time job at the church. It could help you” She says.

You look at her over the rim of your mug “What’s the job?”

“Father Barnes needs someone to help him organize things in the church, buy supplies, just run errands for him in general” she explains “Will you take it?”

“Well… I haven’t even met Father Barnes yet” You say “But I’ll go and see” You’re not excited at the prospect of working in a church, but you don’t have many options available, and your savings are suffering from it.

Your aunt looks at you and nods “I have to leave, I’ll see you later”

You nod “Ok. See you around”

You look around in case you see Father Barnes or any of his acolytes. You find him standing in front of the Altar, his hands in his pocket and his back to you. You clear your throat to make your presence behind him known “F- Father Barnes?” You ask and can’t help but notice that he is taller than he seems, his back is wide and his shoulders look strong.

He turns around, for a moment you could swear he smirks, but he smiles at you “Yes, and you are? I saw you yesterday during the First Communion mass”

You give him your name and offer him your hand. His handshake is firm, the warmth of it is almost too much, but you smile back at him “I heard you’re looking for someone to help part time here at the church”

“Yes! Yes, I am. Don’t get me wrong, the boys are good, but they’re kids. They’re better off playing and having fun than spending time cooped up in here”

“Probably shouldn’t say that to their parents, though” You laugh and nod in agreement “I don’t… Well, I don’t know if I’m what you’re looking for”

Father Barnes looks at you with a weird intensity in his eyes “You are” He says and then adds “If you’re free part time. You’re the only person that’s come up until now”

“I didn’t know. I understand if you want to keep your options open”

Father Barnes shakes his head “No, no. You’re perfect. More than perfect”

Your face heats up, unable to stop the feeling that he means more than being perfect for the job “Thank you” You pull out pen and paper from your bag and write down your name and phone number “Just in case you decide I’m the right person for the job”

“I’ve already decided” He says “When can you start?”

You are taken by surprise “Tomorrow, if you need me to”

“See? You’re perfect” Father Barnes repeats “I’ll keep this” He takes the piece of paper with your name and number on it “We’ll need to keep in contact. Please, could you take the advert off when you leave?”

You swallow and nod “Of course. Have a good evening, Father Barnes”

“You too”

You leave the church and follow his instructions about taking the ad down, then head to the grocery store, you browse the aisles slowly, taking your time in picking up everything you need to buy.

You collide against a wall of solid muscle and gasp as you look up, coming face to face with Father Barnes "I'm… Father… I'm sorry" You say, avoiding his eyes. But noticing that he is wearing normal clothes.

"Is ok. Just an accident" He says searching your eyes "Are you ok?"

"Yes, I was just distracted. Didn't see you"

"No problem" He says and takes your basket "I'll help you with this" Father Barnes starts walking in the same direction you were going before "Do you have a car?" He asks, observing you intently.

"No, I'll just… I just take the bus"

"Is a bit late" Father Barnes points out "I can drive you"

You look at him and nod "Ok. Thank you" You say with a smile as you pick a box of rose tea and put it on your basket. The silence spreads between you two as you walk through the aisles, picking up different products to take with you.

The two of you walk out of the grocery store a few minutes later and go toward his car. The car is nothing flashy, a small, black sedan, that you wonder for a second how does he fit inside. Father Barnes opens the back door for you and lets you put your bags in there, you feel his eyes on you as you do so, never leaving you and when you tip too far forward and almost fall inside the car his arm wraps around your waist and holds you up "Careful there, doll" His voice rumbles in your ears and you breathe slowly to calm your nerves as he helps you stand up.

"I'm so sorry about that" You say and step away as you turn around looking at him "I lost my balance"

"No need to worry" Father Barnes says, a smile on his lips, as he grabs the car door and corners you between the open door and his body.

Your eyes find his and he steps back, letting you move away and then closing the car door.

Father Barnes opens the passenger side door for you and you get in, his eyes fix on your legs as your wrap dress opens, revealing the smooth skin of your thighs, your eyes lock for a brief moment and then he closes the door and runs to the other side, you fix your dress and your coat, making sure you’re covered.

He gets in on the driver's side and starts the car, steering it out of the parking lot. His eyes are fixed on the road and you try not to look at him, but your eyes keep straying towards his face.

"Thank you for driving me… you really didn't have to"

Father Barnes turns toward you for a second, then looks back to the road "Is nothing really. And your place is on my way back to the church. I'll drive you home any time you have to stay late, so transportation shouldn't be a problem"

"Oh, no. You don't have to do that, really. And people would talk, if you did"

"That doesn't concern me" The way he says it leaves no room for arguing. So you just nod and look ahead.

"Thank you for the opportunity, Father Barnes. I'm between jobs, so this will give me something to do"

"Call me James or Bucky, please" He says "Father Barnes is too formal"

"But… You… I…" You babble and Father Barnes, James, shakes his head a friendly smile on his lips.

"I insist, please. At least while there's no one but us around"

You take a deep breath and nod "Sure, then… James" You say softly.

A while later Father Barnes, James, stops in front of your small apartment building. He looks at it out the window and smiles at you "Is it a nice place?" He asks.

"The nicest I can afford" You say "Is a good place, not too big, but I live alone, so that is not a problem"

“Then, I’ll see you tomorrow” James says looking at you “Can you be there at noon?”

You nod “Of course”

“Another thing, I know the fliers said part time, but… If you’re at all available for full time, I’d appreciate the help”

You think for a moment “Yes! I do need the job so, the more hours I can get, the better. I’ll see you tomorrow, then”

“Yes” He says and just as you open the door and turn to get out of the car he grips your wrist firmly and makes you turn to look back “Thank you”

You swallow and smile again then, after he lets go of your wrist, you get out of the car, take your bags from the back and rush inside.

Your heart races as you close the door behind you and set the bags on the kitchen counter, and you shake your head as you try to clear your thoughts “Of course none of this means anything. He’s a priest” You say out loud, more to convince yourself and try to calm your racing heart than anything, really. Your hands tremble slightly as you put the groceries away.

The hot water helps you relax. Soon enough you’re wearing your pajamas and getting into bed. The long day soon taking its toll on you as you fall asleep almost as soon as you are under the covers, your dreams are hazy and heady and you can’t quite remember them as you wake up, your hips rocking into your pillow slowly but desperately.

You’re not sure of where you are exactly as you wake up, but your eyes land on your clock and, you realize, is still too early for you to start getting ready for work, so you end up laying back down and trying to get some more sleep. But, after whatever dream you had you can barely think straight. You sit up and decide to start your day early, going for an elaborate breakfast and an even more difficult lunch that you pack neatly in an effort to waste the free time at your disposal and trying to keep your mind from straying into whatever happened last night in Father Barnes car. Nothing happened, anyway. So why are you so nervous about going in today?

You hope this new job is something temporary, you have been questioning your faith for a long time now and spending time in a church with an admittedly attractive priest is something that won’t help you in the least. If it was in your hands you’d stay as far away from the church as possible, but you need the money and James, as he insists you call him, is paying very good money for such a position.

You step inside the church smoothing your dress down and making sure nothing that would be considered inappropriate is visible. He is already waiting for you by the Altar, for a moment you wonder if he should use a shirt like that. Your curiosity about his gloved hand pikes up again, but you refrain from asking or even setting your eyes on his arm, not sure how he would take that question or the scrutiny.

You smile at him as you stop in front of Father Barnes, James, you remind yourself “Father” Stopping you correct yourself “James”

James smiles at you “Welcome” He starts walking and you follow him out into the inner yard of the church and toward his office “This will be where we’ll spend most of our time together. I will mostly need you to help me organize schedules, do you remember the previous priest’s one?” He asks.

You shake your head “I… I’ve been… I haven’t been coming to church regularly”

“Questioning your faith?” He says inquisitively, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I’m not…” You trail off, realizing that it is probably quite obvious for James that you have been struggling with your faith for a very long time, your relationship with your family already complicated before you stopped attending Church, suffering even more about it. They didn’t appreciate your positions on a variety of subjects and made certain you knew about it.

James smiles at you “That’s ok. It won’t be a problem. Everyone goes through that” He takes your hand between his “Right now, the most important thing is that you can help me organize the mess in here” He chuckles and let’s go of your hand.

“That shouldn’t be a problem” You say, looking around and trying not to think about your hand in his “We could get a couple more filing cabinets, to start”

“I’ll have to see what I can do. But that shouldn’t be so hard to get” James says.

The filing cabinets arrive a few days later and you delve into the task of ordering all the files, especially the ones concerning the church’s finances starting by the oldest ones available. You focus entirely on the work at hand, the time going by as you go through folder after folder of disorganized paperwork. You jump, startled when there is a knock on the door and look over your shoulder, smiling when you see James standing at the door.

“How are you?” He asks, his voice low and deep traveling through the small space.

“I’m ok… I think I lost track of time” You admit “But I have gone through a good amount of folders now, so I think this will be ready sooner than I thought”

“That’s great to hear” James says stepping inside “I was wondering if you’d like some pizza? Is late and I don’t think you’ve eaten”

You look at him “That’s very nice of you, James, but you really don’t have to do it. I don’t want to impose”

“You are not imposing in any way… Just a few slices, then I’ll drive you home” He insists and offers you his gloved hand, which you take. It feels strangely hard, almost like some kind of prosthetic, he uses it to help you stand up from the floor.

“Thank you” James lets go of your hand and you smooth your dress down, follow him down the hall towards the small apartment in the back of the church’s grounds.

James opens the door and lets you step in “Over here” He says walking towards the kitchen “Sit down” James points you towards the stools, sits down beside you and tugs the pizza box over, flipping the lid “Ladies first”

You smile at him and take a slice “Thank you” The bite of pizza you take tastes amazing and you hum, smiling “This is amazing”

“Is from that place down the road from here” James explains.

You laugh “Oh, I used to go there all the time back when I was still in school” You take another bite “With the girls that used to be my friends”

“Not your friends anymore?” He asks and you shake your head, swallowing the pizza.

“Not anymore… We just drifted apart, probably the fact that they all are married with kids already and I’m not doesn’t really help”

“And that you are not coming to church?”

“Not a nice addition to the mix” You admit and look at him “Do you ever… Think about what would your life be if you weren’t a priest?”

James smiles and takes a sip of water “Sometimes”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that”

He chuckles “Is just a question, doll” The word doll slips out casually and your face heats up “I do think about it. Everyone wonders about the what ifs, don’t they?”

“I guess so” You follow the movement of his gloved hand as it moves and takes yours, you notice the hardness of his hand again, you almost open your mouth to ask, but his strength caughts you by surprise as he pulls you into a bruising kiss.

He lets go of your hand and both his arms wrap around your waist, holding you tight against his firm chest. James’ lips feel unyielding and soft against yours, his tongue licks your bottom lip and you open your mouth in response to his actions, giving him the chance to deepen the kiss, your hands move from his shoulders into his hair, fingers knotting on the silky brown strands. You whimper when he bites your lower lip and pull your face away, breathing hard.

“What… Why did you do that?” Is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

James licks his lips, but doesn’t answer your question.

“I think I should go” You say standing up and James takes your hand, stopping you.

“Is late, I should drive you” James stands in front of you and lets go of your hand “Let’s go”

You stare at James for a few seconds and start walking behind him, unsure of what to do now.

James opens the door to his car and lets you get in, as he closes the door and walks to, jogs really, to the driver’s side your mind goes back to his arms around your waist, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, jumping as James closes the door.

“Are you ok?” His voice is low and he sounds concerned.

“I… I’m ok. I just didn’t expect that” You say.

The silence extends as James drives and you wonder if you should even go back to the church, you’d have to come up with an excuse to explain why you left the job so soon, but you can come up with something. You’ve done it before. You can do it again.

James parks the car and turns to look at you, but doesn’t say anything until you turn to look at him, his hand clasps on the back of your neck and his lips are on yours again, demanding. You whimper and he takes the chance, pulling you closer, your arms are around his neck, one of your hands on his hair before you can stop yourself.

“This is not ok” Your voice trembles and so do your hands, placing them on his chest to distance yourself from him “We have… We have to stop” You turn around and open the door of the car and get out.

Your heels click on the pavement as you walk towards the door of your building, you think James will come after you, but he doesn’t. A part of you genuinely wishes he did, it makes you feel like you’re not good enough to chase after. The other part of you is relieved. You don’t have the best track record, people still look at you and whisper under their breath when they see you in church, rumors of you and the new priest? That would not help.

You run up the stairs to your floor and then open your door, close it behind you and throw your bag and jacket on the couch, then start pacing. Mind racing as you go over what happened. You should have seen this coming, you should have. The way he looked at you that night he drove you home. How you were never sure if he was talking about your work or you. Do you have to quit? The anxiety starts to eat at you because how are you going to explain that you had to quit a comfortable, well paid job. You know how your family would react, you have seen it before. But the thing is, and this is the real issue, that you are not sure you want to leave.

You know you won’t be able to sleep tonight. Not when every time you close your eyes all you can think about is his hands on you, his arms around your waist, his lips. You shake your head and start pacing again. You know you didn’t start it. You would have never acted on it, not on your own. Would you? You walk over to the window and look out of it, you can see his car is still there. The temptation to go back out is strong, so much so that you turn around and walk back to your door, take your jacket, your keys and head back down.

The car is still there and you stop, should you go back? James notices you standing there and gets out of the car, walks decisively towards you and cups your face again, his lips crashing against yours as he kisses you one more time “Why did you come back down?”

“I…” You start but stop again “I saw your car still here, I don’t know…”

James takes a deep breath “You should go back up… We can’t do this. Not in public”

“We shouldn’t. Not in public and not in private” You counter.

“I will see you tomorrow” The way he says it, is almost as if he is certain you will show up the next day.

Will he see you tomorrow? You don’t know, you rest your forehead on your hands and think back on the way his lips feel on you. Almost like being branded by him. A shiver runs down your spine and you stand up, go to the fridge and get the vodka bottle out, open it and take a swig off of it, your face scrunches and you sit back down, closing your eyes. The decision is only yours, but not showing will have your family asking questions, they always ask questions. Just not the ones they should ask. Never those ones.

You step into the church and look around as the few people present start to walk out, you can’t see him and take a deep breath. You are not sure what you’ll do. Not yet, at least. James walks into the church and waits until every other person inside it, except you, has left to close the doors. All of them.

His steps are fast when he starts walking towards you. James stops in front of you 2I wasn’t sure you’d come today”

You shrug “I wasn’t sure either. I’m not really sure what I am doing here” The admission slips out of you and you can not stop it. It feels almost like getting rid of a heavy weight over your shoulders.

“Why did you close the church?”

“I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks”

“Risks? This is already risky enough” You counter and shake your head slowly “What… Whatever…” You stop and take a deep breath “What happened last night it shouldn’t have happened. You could… You don’t understand. We can’t”

James grips your chin in his hand and wraps his left arm around your waist, pulling you close, so close there’s no space between the two of you and he kisses you.

His kiss is intense, bruising, the beard framing his face scratches at your skin, you feel the burn on it and moan. You push on his chest for a moment and then wrap your arms around his neck, stand on your tiptoes and push your body closer to his muscular one.

James lets go of your chin, hand moving down your arm slowly, lets go of your hand and grips your hip, squeezes for a moment and then moves it around, to squeeze your ass.

You jump and gasp, opening your eyes and looking at him, eyes wide and hands trembling. This is wrong. The voice in your head says. Is your mother’s voice. It says it is your fault. Everything is your fault.

You shake your head to try and silence it. Let the feeling of James’ hands on you drown everything else. It feels good and you want it. You want it. Your fingers play with the collar on James’ shirt and he takes your other hand, brings it to his mouth and kisses the tips of your fingers.

You look down, at your fingers over his collar “Are you sure… This could end badly” You say.

“I am. I can’t stop thinking about you. Ever since I saw you that day” He admits, kissing each of your fingers again “I can’t”

You’re the one who starts the kiss now, fingers closing around the fabric of his shirt. You bite his lower lip when his hand squeezes your ass again, moaning his name.

James lifts you up with one arm and, by instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist, clinging to him as he starts to walk. You’re not sure where he’s going until he places you on top of the table and you stare at him in shock “Here? We… Here?”

“Yes, here” He says in that voice that makes you think that arguing is pointless.

James just sets you down on the Altar and you swallow hard, you’d think a priest would be more concerned about this, but his eyes have turned dark, only a thin ring of blue around them. It makes a shiver run down your spine. James steps between your legs and kisses your lips again, big hands cupping your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks. His hands move down to the sides of your neck, your shoulders, your waist “I can’t stop thinking about this” He repeats.

“Me either. You’re in my head all the time” You admit, playing again with his collar, it comes loose and you look at it between your fingers. James takes the collar from you and places it beside you on the altar, then his hands are tugging your skirt up, fingers skimming over your boots, he looks down when his fingers change from suede to smooth skin. He licks his lips and that affects you, it makes you whimper. His hands on you make your skin feel like it is on fire, like you will burst into flames and be turned to ashes and dust right there. Maybe is what you deserve for what you’re doing now. Maybe is what will happen.

You lift your hips so he can tug your panties down, but instead he takes his glove off and you see a metal hand he rips your panties and stuffs them in his pocket. You swallow and move your hands down his chest and further down his stomach, reach his belt and unbuckle it, tugging at his shirt after and following with the button and zipper on his pants. Your hand is inside his pants before you can really think about it and you squeeze his cock over his underwear.

James groans, licking his lips and crashing them against yours again, tugging you closer to him as you push his pants down his legs, you look down between the two of you, and take a deep breath to steady yourself. He wraps his left hand over yours, firmly, lips ghosting over yours. James takes your hand away and, finally, you feel him tease your slit with the tip of his cock. You nod, opening your mouth and closing it again. You can’t talk, you want to, but you can’t find the words. He thrusts in, a slow, fluid motion that leaves you entirely breathless, mouth hanging open as you throw your head back, something that James reads as an opening to go for your neck, his kisses are fervent and his teeth scrape against your skin, leaving a delicious sting in their wake.

You wrap your arms around his neck just as he pulls almost out and thrusts back in, the same slow and fluid motion as before, making you shiver and moan his name in his ear, your walls tightening around his cock, your eyes closed, hands buried in his hair as you tug and arch your back. Throwing your head back.

James’s left hand grips your jaw and makes you look at him, his intense blue eyes fixed on you as your legs tighten on his sides. He kisses your lips again, swallowing your moans, your groans, your whines. Claiming every sound you make as his. The hand on your jaw moves slowly down to your neck, tightening around just a little bit. Just enough for your nails to dig on the small of James’ back as you gasp after a deep thrust. James looks at you again, his gaze consumes you, takes hold inside you.

“Fuck” You groan, clamping around James when his pelvic bone drags against your clit.

“I want to cum inside you, make you mine” James whispers in your ear, the arm around your back tightening and holding you in place.

You nod, slowly. Kiss him and nod again “Do it” You say “Please”

James pushes you to lay back, his left hand on your chest as you go down, his hands wrap themselves around your thighs and tug you closer to the edge of the altar, flush against his hips. James’ cock buried deep inside you, so deep you feel like you have trouble breathing. His left gloved hand moves to where your bodies join and circles your clit, it feels so good you almost try to flinch away. But James holds you in place as you bite your lip and look at him, wide eyed and pleading for him to keep going. He doesn’t stop circling your clit until you cry out his name, breathless, as you cum around his cock. Your vision goes white as the orgasm stretches through your body, it makes you tighten up and then relax almost completely as you fist the cloth over the altar.

“That’s it” James encourages, his own hips starting to stutter in their pace, he licks his lips as you push on your elbows to watch him, eyes moving down his torso, to his cock thrusting in and out of you. He growls low in his throat, hips grinding into you as he cums “Fuck” He mutters, grinding again into you.

You sit up and cup his face, kiss his lips. He wraps his arms around your middle again and rests his forehead against yours “Are you ok?”

You nod, slowly “I am… I just…”

“We’ll be careful” James says “No one can know”

“Yes, I know… The people here, they wouldn’t…”

James looks at you “I know they don’t like you being around, but I have your back. I’m here”

You take a deep breath and decide to put your trust in him. Whatever happens.

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putris-et-mulier · 7 years

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I have a big announcement and I'm going to get really emotional, so heads up

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But I think this will be for the best

Some of you guys have been following me for years and I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. You guys have been so kind, it's because of you I haven't had to buy toilet paper in over two years. I've been through a lot while running this blog and some of you have watched and supported me throughout the whole journey.

I thought I would be dead by 30, everyone did, but I just turned 32 and although my health has always been declining I'm not at risk for dropping dead this second. I also am running a household and taking care of my mother who has very severe Alzheimer's. My family has gone from simply not helping to beginning to scheme to get things like mom's Social Security number for reasons I haven't figured out yet. I've been in the hospital a lot since I started this blog, I was officially hospitalized twice and lived in a home once. I've broken my ankles, knees, wrists, nose, broken teeth out of my face, torn half my face off, I became anemic multiple times because there's times I simply didn't have any money to eat for a few days, I had to sell my car and because I can't get in one unless it's wheelchair acceptable I am as good as confined to my neighborhood unless I want to take public transit but things like today happen, I couldn't go see Logan for my birthday because the transit simply wasn't running this weekend. Because of a mistake with IHSS the first caretaker I got earlier this year stole $7,000 from me. Things keep happening so I can't even attempt to bring mom's medical bills down.

I'm just so tired.

And unhappy.

I started this blog right after I lost my ability to write or type and I don't think I could've dealt with how big of a loss that was if I did not this blog to hang out on and talk to you guys about comic books with.

I need less responsibility, if not off-line then certainly online. I want to create things again. Fully formed things I can take pride in. Because none of this is going to get easier, it's just going to become different and if I want to make it work I have to live differently to accommodate it.

This sounds dramatic, like a suicide note, but this is actually about something I'm excited about and think some of you will be too but I know a lot of you will feel a bit betrayed.

About when I stopped writing a friend and I created a publishing company. It's actually extremely easy to do, especially if you only sell digital books which we don't, but it would've be easy. I'm not legally allowed to have anything under my name so my friend put it under hers and has her taxes all complicated up because of it. My friend put in a $1000 nest egg and we use the company to try to find unpublished and marginalized writers, artists, and models. We had seen firsthand the inequality that goes on in those industries. So, we made Good Mourning. It's run by me and my two best friends that I've known since we were children. Recently we developed something we are calling The Discourse which is where we will be doing a lot of what I do here, talk about pop-culture stuff and get academic or open a discussion on social justice, but the other two are involved which means the same thing but with a bigger variety of fandoms. It's a podcast, soon to be an ezine, blog, and we are going to publish a line of discourse books which are going to be like social justice handbooks with a fandom theme.

I'm excited about this. It gives me new opportunities to try writing in different ways, it consolidates a lot of things that I do already, I'll get a chance to be a fan again instead of a web mistress, and my friends will be so closely involved that if there are some days I just can't get in my wheelchair I know everything will be taken care of.

The only problem is, if I left I would miss all of you. Even the ones who hate me. Maybe it's childish to not want to let go of things but this is the Internet and if you're going to be childish, you should do it here.

I am turning this blog into The Discourse (the blog version)

I'm still going to be posting all the new Deadpool stuff but now it's also going to be more of the same things with other fandoms as well like all of X-Men and K–Pop and other hyphenated things. I suppose it won't be that much different, just no reposts from the archive of Deadpool stuff all day, I'll just be putting my favorite old posts in the queue by hand so it's all good.

None of the current content will be removed, all of those info op-ed posts like about Deadpool sexuality they will still be here and I will still update them but now I'll be doing them about different characters as well.

The name won't be the same, but it actually hasn't always been the same. This one's just become infamous. I hope you do decide to stay with me at least for a while, I'm going to do my best for all of you.

Good Mourning has taken over the financial responsibility of this blog and we are now The Discourse.

Are you a sellout if you sell out to yourself?

And you have to put up with a new moderator, cosmic. But if you guys have been here for a while you probably have heard her on the podcast. Quick bio: she's terrified of everything and loves Doctor Who.

Obviously I'm going to be changing things around here a little bit but it's nothing you'll see from your dashboard. Also, we plan on coming out with the first issue of our ezine next month and since is the first one it's going to be all us but we really want you guys to participate. Maybe you have a short poem about your asshole or, perhaps preferably, your favorite character's asshole? I can promise you, your poem is getting in the very next issue. I'll have more details for you soon.

And since I'm not solely responsible for anything anymore I'm going to get to do some really cool things, like giveaways here. Even for people who just follow the blog. I get to borrow the business card to get the prizes so you guys could even choose what you want. And I could go to Party City and get some of those participation trophies for the losers. Or we can behave like responsible adults, unlike the generation before us, and giveaway fandom merchandise that is not toys it says so on the box.

I'm excited, I hope you aren't disappointed. I have to think of my health. My physical health can't take all the responsibility and my psychological/spiritual health needs me to keep investing myself in fandom shenanigans.

My personal blog still is genoshaisforlovers.tumblr.com

and if you want to get to me somewhere else you can always go to christyleighstewart.com I always direct it to where or what I'm doing at the time

If you send in an anonymous ask here about this I won't be able to answer you but I will answer everyone privately about this.

It's still me here. Things are going to be different but I swear to God I am sitting in my seat the exact same way and "typing" this the same way I usually do.

If this whole Discourse thing isn't your…thing but if you love me personally I am also at my personal blog. The me talking openly, that's all moving over there. Over here I am working as your game master or… Alice in Wonderland would be a better metaphor, right? So I'm working as your Mad Hatter?

It's a cliché but I am selling out so, yeah, I am now the Mad Hatter.

And I'd like to welcome you to this tea party just give me a second and

so now that we're seated comfortably, all of this remains free as does the podcast but you don't get the rewards unless you subscribe at least $1 to The Discourse

As the Mad Hatter I can tell you, specifically the blog members, without embarrassment that this whole project is and act of love, as everything we've done always has been and always will be, because the profit goes toward me as a paycheck and as I can only make so much money within a year without losing any of my benefits and I get to decide what goes on my paychecks and she is totally mens sana in corpore sano, officers, so it's cool as long as the stuff I do is worth anything to people. I just set it at $1 to join because that dollar has a president on it with the least value and thanks to the election George Washington will be the second least valuable dollar.

– Christy

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