#Did Jesus overcome the world?

[frankkster]

GOD, BONE CANCER AND BEAUTY

As you read the meme above, are you nodding your head in agreement? It wouldn’t surprise me in the least. We all know that this world is awash in beauty and pain, love and grief, anger and joy. The question that occurs to me is: why does British actor/writer/narrator/director/atheist Stephen Fry somehow conclude that this world’s enormous contrasts deny the existence of a creator? And does it…

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Okay so here, I think, is why I think Red, White and Royal Blue succeeds spectacularly as a romcom, and actually to me is a better-than-average take on the genre.

First, the leads have absolutely scorching chemistry. They are incredibly believable as two men absolutely infatuated with each other. They each kiss like drowning men shown water, right down to how each grabs at the other, at hair or back or neck and face.

They each have developed their character having a specific characteristic even when flirting or kissing. Henry grabs Alex's hair, for example, every single time, in a way that makes it clear he spends serious time thinking about that hair.

Fair enough, Henry.

They also do something even goddamn better.

They are friends. They are believable as two people who could actually get along long enough to fall in love.

They are allowed to become FRIENDS.

They are given time to get to know each other before they get physical. You can feel their interest in each other growing. And, to my opinion, you can tell that Henry is feeling Alex out through texts to see if the interest might be reciprocated even though he thinks it can't possibly be.

One thing that kills me about romcoms is how the leads will have witty "sexy" banter but don't seem to actually like each other. They are enemies who fall into bed but aren't really believable as lovers.

Henry and Alex are believable, because they... Well. They're impossibly silly even when tearing at each other's clothes. They have awkward moments.

They laugh.

Alex laughs in bed. He holds Henry in a way that is romantic, openly so. Henry is overcoming the conditioned hesitation and avoidance he has, his smiles and warmth and laughter come with rare vulnerability - Alex is a man who throws himself head first into life and has no such compunctions in the moment. He laughs because this is awesome and Jesus Christ, Prince Henry is too hot to be real.

They like each other, they stumble, they laugh.

But also, another reason this works so well?

The sex scene isn't scorching.

Watching the sex scene felt realistically intimate. It felt like I had walked in one real people and needed to leave. It was intense in a way that felt like something I maybe wasn't meant to see.

It was filmed so well. So much romanticism and deeply felt adoration in a simple grasping of a hand, the look in soft eyes, a hand pressed against a back. The edge of a knee just in frame. Looking up and looking down.

It felt like we walked into their room during and saw them both laid utterly bare.

Henry's look of vulnerability and nerves and pleasure, Alex looking slowly over his face to take it all in. Moving slowly, then, when everything they do before this is hurried or hidden.

It works as a romcom because you believe 100% these two men could get to like each other, fall in love, and stay that way.

You believe Henry's very real terror of rejection from the public because he already knows his family, beyond his sister, will reject him. You believe that Alex is a headstrong idealist who is sure that you can bulldoze through any wall too tall to climb.

And you believe that between the two of them, they can find a way around the wall entirely.

This movie is a master class on how a movie can get you to suspend so much disbelief if the leads sell their characters. The importance of believable chemistry.

And also... Isn't it nice to see a queer love story in a world that is, in some ways, just a few shades better than our own?

P.S. you cannot tell me Stephen Fry did not chew the goddamn scenery in circles all around everyone during his single scene. That man was having a ball.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

John Pavlovitz at The Beautiful Mess:

Wake up, White Liberals, Progressives, and Moderates. It's morning in America. A lot happened while we were sleeping. This is not the nation we thought existed back on January 20th of 2009: likely the last time many of us were fully awake. Back then, we basked in the warm glow of the arrival of a Black President and we grew comfortable, nestling down into a complacency that only the blind spots of privilege and false information provide. The joy of that moment, and the recent civil and human rights wins became a slow-acting emotional sedative that slowly squeezed out the urgency from us; one that gradually dulled our senses.

The visible victories numbed our minds into imagining we had arrived together at Dr. King’s glorious mountaintop. If we had taken the time to ask vulnerable, oppressed people, they'd have warned us not to fall asleep. Believing that the aspirational "we shall overcomes" that once rang out were now a fixed and unchangeable present, we settled cozily into that place where the heart rate slows and the limbs and eyelids grow heavy—and where without realizing it, slumber suddenly overtakes you: One blink awake, the next blink asleep. And for eight years we began to sleepwalk through the world, physically here and moving through daylight but not fully present, not totally seeing—caught between the actual and the unreal world, between the true nightmare and the imagined dream. Yes, we still talked and marched and campaigned and worked, but we did so slightly sedated in the haze of bad stories, willful ignorance, and wishful thinking. Meanwhile, the bigots woke up.

Shaken violently from sleep on that same January morning in 2009 by the reality of what decades of fear and terrible theology taught them was the absolute worst place they could find themselves—they began to mount a fierce counterattack. They infiltrated local politics and school boards and state election positions. They created news outlets and social media platforms designed to filter out everything except that which would fully trigger terror within the hearts of their intended targets and would-be allies: fantastical stories of a pervasive and coordinated Gay Agenda coming to convert their children; of violent, heavily armed, brown-skinned drug gangs overrunning our borders; of godless, abortion-mad progressives having indiscriminate sex without fear or care; of Muslim terrorist hordes infiltrating our neighborhoods and bodegas; of America-hating Democrats coming for their jobs and flags and prayers and guns. And we were still sleepwalking...

They leveraged thousands of Christian pulpits, where every seven days they'd wildly stoke the fires of people's phobias and fears, weaponize the Scriptures against gays and migrants and Muslims, pervert the expansive Gospel of Jesus into rabid nationalism—and sermon by sermon, enlist them all into service as passionate soldiers in the Army of the straight, white, American, male Lord.

And we were still sleepwalking... Then, to inculcate the terror fully, they propped up a sideshow carnival barker as their chosen one; a barren, empty husk of a man with no discernible moral convictions beyond wealth accumulation—who they could use as a flesh and blood avatar to embody and perpetuate themselves. They fashioned a vile, blustery orange idol to rally the fearful and the angry and the callous hearts around; one who would daily dig into the stinking muck to find a deeper bottom—and in the sleep-induced state we were in we thought it was a joke. We laughed ourselves back into a dreamworld where everything would be fine and where decency would prevail and where the system would work; so much so that one hundred million of us slept all the way through an election cycle. And here we are, a hair’s breadth from fascism.

John Pavlovitz says it best in regards to White Liberals, Progressives, and Moderates of all stripes: stay awake and don’t sleepwalk like what happened during Obama’s term.

[ohtobeleah]

GQ, Man of the Year // Jake Seresin

Summary: After the events of TopGun, Jake Hangman Seresin finds himself being awarded the prestigious GQ, Man of the Year award. With his best friend in toe—Jake finds himself in a whirlwind of confessing his undying love for his best friend.

Warnings: Smut. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Unprotected Sex. Make receiving oral. Best friends to lovers trope. Callsign Jinx.

Word Count: 7.1k

Author Note: Happy Saturday! I know I’ve been pretty quiet as of late but I’m still here. Here’s a one shot for your Saturday morning. Love you, bye. xxx

Anxiety. It was the only thing you could put it down to. The way your hands shook, the way your heart raced a little faster than you would have liked it to have been beating. Thumping in your chest and ears. The way you felt the heat in your cheeks rising with sweaty palms to match. Leaning against the bar as you cleared your throat behind your fisted hand, the bartender raised his eyebrow as if he were already waiting for you to order your drink of choice while he poured the last bit of Whiskey Sour into the chilled glass before him. 

“Can I get a Vodka Redbull please?” You kindly asked the bartender with a shy smile as if he’d say no, or that your request was putting him out of his way. “But uh, can you put in a champagne glass?” The bartender laughed softly, he shook his head as he gave you a weird look. However, he complied with your strange request, after all it was his job and moments later? He was bringing you a champagne glass full of the golden bubbly liquid.  

“Thanks.” You gestured with yet again with the same shy smile that you had greeted him with a few minutes prior. As you sipped the alcoholic beverage you looked around the ballroom for your date, panic began to set in real quick when your wide eyes never met his. Jake Seresin was never late, and the idea he’d been late to such a prestigious event made your stomach churn with anticipation and uncertainty. 

Jake had told you he’d be right behind you when he sent you on your way, but now you weren’t too sure how far right behind you was.

It was safe to say you were extremely out of your comfort zone, your surroundings were elegant and oh so intimidating. The sound of violins in the background coming from the string quartet made you want to straighten your posture as if you were carrying a stack of books on your head. Never had you ever seen a marble staircase in person with what seemed to be gold detailing. You’d lived in New York for the better part of your entire life. You parents were both born and bred in Brooklyn and you’d grown up in what seemed to be the world’s smallest apartment. You knew of The Beekman, however, you never thought, even with your job taking you all over the world, you’d ever step inside the Manhattan building. 

“Shit, where are you?” You mumbled under your breath while your eyes frantically scanned the bustling ballroom for your best friend. Before you reached full panic mode, your core temperature surely rose as your anxiety threatened to overcome you—an all too familiar hand placed itself delicately against the small of your back, just above your ass, dangerously close to something more than just a friendly hand, a gentle chuckle in your left ear made you instantly relax. It was him, no other than your best friend, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. 

“Real classy Jinx.” Jake whispered in your ear— not before he slowly took the glass from your hand, taking a small sip of the Vodka Redbull which filled your glass. “Jesus, wasn’t expecting that, though it was Champagne.” Jake frowned softly as he placed the cool glass back in your manicured hand before he shook his head, walking you to your assigned table, hand still glued to the small of your back, walking close by your side. 

“You should’ve known better than to bring me out in public, especially to something this fancy.” You sassed as you walked with Jake back to your seats, the entire ballroom was settling as other guests did the same. So many people all here for the same thing, their guests, families and friends all here to hopefully see them thrive and be recognised for their fine work. 

“Had to settle.” Jack smirked as he leaned down slightly, kissing your cheek softly to stop you from turning to hit his chest playfully, a reaction he was quick to respond to after knowing you for almost six years.

You’d first met Jake when the two of you first ended up at TopGun. At first the cocky aviator from Houston Texas didn’t at all seem like the type of guy who you’d easily get along with. But that first impression was quickly obliterated when the two of you had been paired up together for a Hop. The rest was sort of as they say, history.

You and Jake couldn’t have been more different if you tried. He was outgoing, boisterous and sure of himself in every aspect. You were quiet, reserved and self doubt was surely something that resided deep inside your bones. You brought Jake Seresin down to earth and he brought out the best in you. It was Ying and Yang.

The two of you formed a strong bond that could be felt in the sky, on land and beyond any measurement of distance. Over the course of your friendship the pair of you had become inseparable. Two peas in a pod. A dynamic duo. Each other's wingman. 

“Didn’t have anyone else to bring, besides, I can’t wait to see you cry when I become Man of The Year.” Pulling your chair out for you, Jake's smug attitude made you giggle, his face instantly lit up at the sound of your beautiful laugh– a sound he cherished just as much as the girl it came from. The love of his life.

Jake had been nominated for a Man of The Year award after a mission that saw him on your doorstep with his duffel slung over his shoulder the second he was told he was dismissed. Not all the details had been released, but from what Jake had told you in the middle of a full blown panic attack and from files you pulled at work, it was safe to say the award was well deserved. He deserved to be nominated.

Jake Seresin had gone against his own orders to stand down to save Captain Pete Maverick Mitchell and Lieutenant Bradley Rooster Bradshaw. Without Jakes life saving decision, those two men wouldn’t be alive.

Although he wasn’t in it for the praise, it was nice to see Jake recognised for his efforts. Sure, he was always sure of himself. The best of the best he’d say. But you knew deep down, there was something of doubt in his mind that he’d never be enough. 

You thought it was his fathers tough love that drove Jake to want to be the best. You didn’t need him to tell you that you were right about that either, because you knew you were. You’d seen the way Jake acted around his dad. It didn’t take you longer to figure out why he was the way he is in most aspects of his career.

Not wanting to show up to such an important and publicised event alone, and with Rooster, one of Hangman's closest and dearest friends being unavailable due to his own deployment, it was a no-brainer that Jake would ask you to accompany him to the Prestigious event. You were his best friend and wingwoman after all and just so happened to be stateside. 

“You do realise all these men are nominated? You might not even receive an award, don’t be so sure of yourself Seresin.” You teased menacingly as Jake continued to be the gentleman he was, pushing you into the table as you sat softly on your chair, a little too fast for your liking, just to be a child— a gentle squeal left your mouth as you collided with the perfectly decorated table. The aesthetically pleasing ornaments and beautifully smelling candles shook momentarily as you gripped the edge. “Jake!” You hissed. Other occupants at the table weren’t shying away as they stared at the two of you, most likely thinking— ‘Such childish behaviour.’ 

“Don’t Jinx me Darlin’, I’ve got this in the bag and you know it.” There it was, the nickname that nearly sent you into cardiac arrest every damn time it left his perfect lips. You watched as Jake took his seat next to you—noticing for the first time that night just how grown out yet tamed his facial hair had become. It was almost a full beard at this point, and it looked right at home on his perfectly handsome face. His voice brought you back down to earth before you could float too far away, thinking of Jake. The love of your life, your best friend. 

“Huh?” You asked, completely dazed for a moment as you shook your head slightly. Jake threw his head back in a soft chuckle at the sight of you being so frazzled.

“I said, you look good? The wigs a nice touch, never thought you’d rock platinum blonde.” Through near panic and Jake distracting you– you had almost forgotten the entire theme of the night, 1920’s glam. 

“Oh? You think?” You questioned, touching at the curly shoulder length wig that you thought suited your outfit, a floor length, white, semi-corset style dress that hugged you just right. It accentuated your curves and plunged just a bit below your comfort zone in the chest area just right. Silver jewels dangling all over – it was a beautiful dress, to say the least, very fitting for the theme.

“Yeah, I mean it – just don’t kiss me when I win? That red lipstick is dangerously bright.” Jake joked as he smiled childishly as you smiled back. His hand reached for yours on the table, squeezing tightly as you felt his leg shaking against you under the table. “I’m honestly terrified– despite my cool calm and collected mannerisms.” You couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes. “I’m just glad you agreed to come with me.” His lips turned upwards into a soft smirk, just admiring the girl who sat beside him. The love of his life, his best friend. “I’d most likely never would’ve accepted the invitation if you said no.”

You leaned your head on Jake's shoulder, careful not to smear your makeup against the fabric of his ostentatious blue and white pinstripe blazer, the suit couldn’t have been tighter against his muscular body but much like your own attire – accentuated him in all the right ways. Both dresses to the nines. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Seresin.” Teasing, you lifted your head as the lights dimmed, clapping ensuing as the presenter of the night sauntered across the stage. Waiters alternated meals on the table in front of you – Jake tried to hide his disappointment as he got steak while you got salmon. Looking at each other with an almost telepathic ‘switch?’  Discreetly swapping your meals to better suit your personal preferences.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Half a meal and two Vodka Redbulls down, the list of recipients grew as the awards left to give dwindled. You could sense that Jake was beginning to doubt if he would actually receive the highly accredited award. He didn’t do what he did out of curiosity for praise and validation. He did what he did to save two people who’d taught him a lot about himself. He couldn’t just sit back and do nothing when he could have done something. 

The nights he slept alone were already plagued enough with nightmares of what could have been if he didn’t go after Rooster and Mav. He didn’t allow himself to think of what those nightmares might have entailed if he listened to direct orders and stayed on the carrier. 

“Jake? stop shaking your leg, It will happen if it happens yeah?” Your hand was resting below the table on his bouncing knee, instantly calming him as you rubbed softly against his suit pants. “You did a good thing, award or not.” 

“Just wanna make everyone proud ya’know?” Jake confessed, his face almost saddened with the idea he might walk out empty-handed. His eyes glassed over as he looked at you, so anxious that he had a light layer of sweat covering his forehead. The light from the candles situated on the table made him glisten. Cupping his cheek, Jake slightly moved his head into your touch, leaning into your comfort, the feeling instantly slowing his heart rate—you always had such a calming effect on him as your thumb rubbed softly against his scruff. 

“You already did, the moment you decided you wanted to help, no award could ever truly measure everything you’ve done—Darlin.’” You couldn’t help but to smile, tossing the pet name Jake often called you in his face—causing Jake to scoff softly as you continued to softly rub the pad of your thumb against his scruff covered cheek. Leaning in closer as Jake closed his eyes, eyelids fluttering. You were absentmindedly doing the same, the slow lean in as eyelids fluttered. Lips ghosting, dangerously close. Jake's hand coming to cup your cheek as you did his. But it was to no avail. Both you and Jake pulled back from one another immediately as loud clapping filled the banquet hall, ten recipients were standing on the stage holding their ‘Men of The Year award’ proudly in their hands. 

“That was the last recipient anyway” Jake sighed, you’d never heard him sound so defeated before as he fixed himself up and cleared his throat, slightly disappointed that he didn’t make the cut. “But, regardless—“ Jake's voice was nothing but soft as he looked at you. Heart eyes took over his entire face. “You look stunning and the fact I got to see you so dressed up instead of you in your flight suit for once was worth every moment.” 

“Oh rack off will ya.” You sassed as you turned in your chair to take another mouthful of steak in your mouth, being ever so careful not to rub your lipstick off in the process. Jake did the same, but his eyes never left your profile. He was captivated by your beauty. An unspoken love was clear as day between the two of you, both recognising each other’s feelings but never acting on them, never admitting them—both too scared to ruin a lifelong friendship. 

“And for our final award of the night. The prestigious 11th Men of The Year award that is specifically awarded to individuals who go above and beyond what is required of them.” The room was silent as the presenter spoke, you could hear a feather drop it was so quiet. “This individual has proven that always following what you’re told to do, isn't always the right thing to do.”

You knew it was coming before Jake did, you could tell exactly where this was going—it was Jake. Your Hangman. It was Jake Hangman Seresin who was taking home the 11th Man award. As you placed your hand excitedly on his shoulder you noticed how ridged he’d become– most likely scared he was getting his hopes up too quickly, scared to be disappointed. Scared he thought he had a chance only to be snubbed at the last second. 

“This individual risked his own life to save others without hesitation or fear of consequence and with only seconds to spare, saved two actively serving naval aviators who would have otherwise met an untimely demise and there is no doubt in our minds we have made the right decision in recognising his marvellous effects. This year’s honorary 11th Man of The Year award goes to……” As the presenter spoke, nearing the end of his speech, the sound of ‘Norman Greenbaurns - ‘Spirit in the Sky’’ began playing over the speaker just as a slideshow of video footage of Jake and Bradley aboard the Carrier moments after the events of their herring experiences played on the two large screens left and right of the stage. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a giddy smile thinking– ‘this is going to shoot his ego through the roof.’

“Lieutenant Jacob Hangman Seresin!”

At the sound of his name being called, you both shot up onto your feet and embraced each other in a tight, celebratory hug. Jake was quick to pull away and shake you slightly by your shoulders—an excited and overwhelmed Hangman laughed as tears welled in his over joyous eyes.

“What the fuck is happening Jinx!? w-what I, what do I do?” He asked nervously, so much adrenaline was pumping through his system he couldn't think straight. This wasn’t anything like flying a multimillion dollar fight jet adrenaline. No—this was something more personal. 

“Go! go up to the stage Jake, holy shit!” Nudging him, Jake fumbled with his blazer button—nervously approaching the stage as people clapped and cheered around him, including yourself. You couldn’t breathe, watching as he shook the presenter's hand and accepted the award he deserved more than anyone.

Jake had risked his life to save others, and you knew better than anyone that even thought some would say he wasn’t all that of a team player, that he’d do it over and over again if need be. Because underneath all the male bravado and the cocky attitude, it was just Jake. Your Jake. Your best friend. The love of your life. 

You only sat when the clapping stopped, wiping away tears of joy as you watched on with pure admiration for your best friend. Holding your hands up to your face, counting your lucky stars you got to experience such a moment. Your best friend being recognized as the selfless man he was. Patrons sitting at the same table were unable to take their eyes off the love you were radiating for your best friend.

“Oh woah.” Jake exclaimed with a soft laugh into the microphone. You couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip, trying to hide the enormous grin plastered permanently on your face as Jake's eyes scanned the room for you– to calm his nerves.

For a Naval Aviator who was so accustomed to keeping his composure under immense amounts of pressure, keeping a level head in pressing situations and making sure every action he took was executed correctly and without flaw, public speaking had never been his forte. So Jake did the only thing he knew how to— he looked for his girl and pretended the entire room was empty. All but you. He focused on the only person he wanted to see. His entire soul was focused on you and you alone, lightning up the entire room like a beacon of hope and gratitude. 

“To be receiving such an award is truly a blessing and I can’t begin to express how thankful I am to be this year’s recipient.” You looked at Jack as he looked at you and felt your heart flutter. He looked so handsome, devilishly handsome in that blue and white pinstriped suit. The way his facial hair was perfectly groomed and the hair atop his head carefully slicked back. He looked nothing short of perfection. 

Raised by women for women. 

“I never thought my actions would lead to this, being recognised for insubordination.” The crowd chuckled as Jake gave them that perfect Hollywood grin he was so utterly gifted with. “But i'm beyond thankful that i'm standing here right now.”

“I want to give a special mention to my family– thank you for loving me unconditionally, to my squad back in North Island who do the absolute most in keeping me humble and my ego in check.” The entire room laughed with Jake as he spoke. “To Bradley and Mav for teaching me things about myself I never even knew until I was taking off from that carrier after them.” Then, Jake stilled for a moment as he took a deep breath in. And finally to my girl.” Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of Jake calling you his girl. “Although she prefers to stay in whenever she can, she reluctantly agreed to attend tonight’s banquet with me and I’m glad she did otherwise she’d never be able to hear me say just how thankful I am for her and her undeniable loyalty to a guy who isn’t worth a second of her time. I hope I made you proud Darlin’.” Holding the award above his head, the room erupted into cheerful whistles and thunderous claps of congratulations. “I'm a part of the team once and for all.” The guests only quieted once Jake had exited the stage to have his photo professionally taken and most likely be interviewed.

Your heart was so full, so proud of the man Jake had become, the passionate aviator that was just adored by the entire world. 

You loved him, you truly did adore everything about him. the way he’d hold your waist to the way he’d kiss your cheek. You loved the way he’d always let you sleep in his bed whenever you stayed the night– never wanting you to take the lounge that nearly broke his back every time he crashed on it. 

You adored the way he always let you borrow his hoodies – anyone your heart desired. If he had planned on wearing it, he’d change his entire outfit just so you could remain in it. The way he always left the last slice of pizza for you, regardless if he was starving – it was always yours. You loved the way Jake would let you nap on his chest, even if he had important plans or places to be, he’d stay still for as long as you were asleep for. 

Every moment spent with you was worth savouring because the both of you knew that those moments were fleeting with deployments forever looming above your heads.

All the little things he did throughout the years had finally taken its final toll on your heart – you were undeniably in love with Jake Seresin, your best friend – your goofy other half, your partner in crime. The only thing that scared you more than anything else in the world was finally admitting it. But the thing you didn’t know—was that Jake felt the exact same way, he wanted you to be his girl officially, wanted to be yours, but he was terrified you’d reject his love – in his mind? You were out of his league, way out of his league.

You were the only woman Jake had never tried to play, the only woman Jake never used cheap pickup lines on or thought about having a one night stand with. You were Jake's end game, simple. But he was scared you wouldn’t feel the same. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“You know you ugly cry right? Jake's voice startled you as you waited at the table for him to return, many of the others who sat at the same table were now vanished— either on the dance floor, at the bar or returning to their respective hotel rooms.

“Your ego really didn’t need that, at all— you’re already so big headed enough as it is.” You joked, standing to embrace him once again. “I’m so proud of you Jake, but that speech? Cheesy– at best like a four outta ten.” You sassed, kissing his cheek. 

“Come dance with me?” Jake whispered just enough for you to hear, his voice was soft and full of happiness. He took your hand in his as he made his way to the dance floor– littered with couples slow dancing. Spinning you into his chest, Jake placed his hand on the small of your back– bringing you as close to him as he possibly could, his other hand in yours.

It was a comfortable silence as you swayed to the music– Shawn Mendes’s ‘Never be alone'. Your head rested against Jake's chest, gently grasping his shoulder. 

“Jinx?” Jake cooed as you looked up at him, his eyes trained heavily on yours– only ever breaking eye contact for a second as his eyes dipped to look at your lips. “What are we?” You felt your heart skip a beat at the sudden question. Your eyes followed Jake's as you noticed how his lips looked slightly chapped but oh so kissable. 

You’d always wanted to feel his lips against yours. Too many times they’d kissed your cheek or forehead, leaving you longing for more. 

“I uh, we’re best friends I guess?” You stuttered, unsure of what to say in the moment, so desperately trying to read Jake's perfect face as you continued to sway around the dancefloor together– pressed up against one another, Jake's grip only tightened, he never wanted to let you go.

“Would it freak you out if I said I wanted to be more?” Jake’s voice was low as he continued to guide you across the floor, his fingers fiddled with the zipper that sat just above your tailbone – causing Goosebumps to rise over your exposed back. “I know it’s not usually what I’m after, but with you? I’d give anything.” 

Your heart felt like it was racing a million miles an hour at the confession leaving your best friend's lips as he twirled you around and took you back into his arms. 

“No. it wouldn’t, but how much more?” Jake dipped his head just a bit— leaning into you, he closed the gap between your lips and his, ghosting over your lips as you bit your bottom lip, trying to stop your lips from turning upright into a cheesy grin.

“All of you Jinx, let's just cut the shit we do? I just can't help but want to kiss you right now—so please stop me if you don’t want me to?” Jake’s hot breath fanning over you, the hint of the sweet alcoholic mixture of your Vodka Redbulls and whiskey sours lingered as he spoke. The both of you having  had more than you’d cared to admit– but you didn’t mind. As Jake’s lips just barely grazed against yours you giggled, moving both your arms to wrap around the back of his neck. Jake smiled as the angelic sound left your mouth.

“Kiss me.” Was all you said before Jake dipped you down and attached his lips to yours—your wig fell to the ground, exposing your natural hair as he brought you back up.

“There she is.” Jake jokingly teased as he rested his forehead against yours, smiling as you looked up at him. “My wingwoman.” Completely smitten for the man who held you in his arms as you danced. 

“Jake? you have somethin’ on your lip?” You told him through a witty smile “here, let me.” You reached up and connected your lips once again, only this time you asked for permission into his mouth by running your tongue along his bottom lip slowly– sensually. Granted access, your tongue danced gracefully with Jakes, fighting for dominance—you couldn't help but let him take over.

Jake couldn’t contain himself, moaning softly into your mouth, your reaction was to pull away– panting slightly as you tried to catch your breath. You knew people were staring at the two of you— but you didn’t care, all you wanted was Jake and you couldn’t contain your excitement. Knowing the consequences of your actions would be something the two of you would have to talk about once the alcohol left your system. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“So how long?” You asked softly, a little afraid of what the answer may be. How long had you and Jake waisted tiptoeing around each other's feelings? At the same time through your timidness, there was a hint of cockiness in your tone of voice.

“How long what?” Jake questioned as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders—walking you both off the dancefloor through the ballroom as you made your way back to the hotel room GQ had been kind enough to put you both up in for the weekend.

“How long have you had a crush on me?” You mimicked Jake's actions and wrapped your arm gently behind the small of his back.

“Oh, okay let's not get into all the specifics Jinx.”

“What if I want specifics? Like what if I want to know just how much you really like me?” You were just nitpicking at this point, so overjoyed with the event of this evening – you were on cloud nine. “It’s not every day that you get to say, Jake Seresin, Casinova extraordinaire is utterly infatuated with you.” 

“I don’t remember saying that—“ Jake chuckled, but you were right. Oh so right in every way. He was obsessed with you. He was infatuated with you. 

“What if instead of telling you how much I really love you, Why don’t I just show you—I mean— there’s only one bed in the hotel room and that lounge looks just as uncomfortable as the one back home.” Jake was rambling as he opened the taxi door for you, the yellow cab was waiting to take you both back to the hotel a few blocks away. Before stepping in you turned to Jake– pulling him down to your lips by his tie. A sudden surge of confidence radiated through your entire body.

“Are you trying to get in my pants, Seresin?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow. 

“More than ever before Y/l/n.” Jake mumbled, his husky voice made the heat rise in between your legs. Jake had never been this flirtatious with you.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not wearing any then huh?” You smirked hungrily before falling back into the back of the cab with grace— pulling Jake down on top of you by his tie. Your lips collided as he crawled over the top of you, his hands gripped at your hips as he sucked your bottom lip– letting it smack back against you before the taxi driver piped up, clearing his throat.

“Where to Lieutenant?” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

From the second you entered the ostentatious luxury suit Jake’s hands were all over you, as were yours on his. Jake couldn’t help himself. He slammed you against the wall in the entryway, your hands worked fast to remove his blazer, next– his tie. It was all a daze. So much adrenaline pumped through your veins at Jake’s sensual and needy touch. 

“Are we really doing this?” Jake pulled away to pause, to rest his forehead on yours as you worked to unbutton his white dress shirt. Breathing heavily you nodded eagerly in response. 

“Less talking Jake, you’re overthinking, that’s not like you at all.” You breath fanned over his parted mouth before Jake attached his lips to yours– his now fully exposed torso was pressing against you. Chiselled like a Greek god. An adonis. 

“C'mere Darlin—'' Jake huffed as he spun you around, your face pressed against the wall as he unzipped your dress and began trailing harsh, hungry kisses up and down your neck. His hands trailed up your arms to where your sleeves rested on your shoulders. Pulling them down slowly– revealing your body to him in all its semi-naked beauty. The only thing left on your curvy body as you stepped out of the dress, a mess on the floor, was the white lacy panties you had specifically brought to be hidden under the near sheer dress. You wanted to feel sexy for yourself. 

“You’re beautiful.” Jake mumbled. “So beautiful Jinx.” If it had been anyone else Jake wouldn’t have mentioned it. But you were you and you deserved to know just how beautiful he thought you really were. “My god are you perfect.” His hands gripped your hips, spinning you around to face him yet again. 

“Trying to sweet talk me?” You questioned as you worked fast to unbuckle the leather belt that held his suit pants tight on Jake’s waist. You unbuckled the belt before pulling it through the belt loops in one perfect motion slipping it right off. Your manicured hands unzipped Jakes fly as you watched with a smirk as he shimmied out almost desperately.

The both of you were now only in your underwear. Standing before each other, exposed so intimately for the first time. Together. 

“Is it working?” Jake teased before he squeezed your hips, causing a giggle to escape your swollen lips. “Jump.” Jake ordered and you complied. Jumping up, you wrapped your legs around his waist before you let his hands hold you tightly against your ass as he walked you to the ‘uncomfortable lounge’.

Falling back onto the lounge, Jake watched as you crawled between his legs in front of him on the floor, your fingers dipping into the waistband of his boxer briefs as he lifted his hips to accommodate your next move– removing his briefs completely. 

As you slowly removed the unwanted fabric from Jake's body, his cock sprung free from its previous confines– resting heavily against his lower abdomen as he slouched back against the back of the lounge. His tip was pretty pink, almost the exact colour of his perfectly swollen lips. His shaft smooth apart from the vein that ran up his entire length from the base to his tip. God he looked throbbing.

There he was. Jake Seresin. Completely exposed before you with flushed cheeks that told you he thought he was dreaming. 

Without a word you gripped his length in your hand, pumping him slowly— some pre-cum already oozed from his tip at your touch. You leaned on your knees between his legs, spreading them as far as Jake could get them so you could take more of his length down your warm, fuckable throat.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to suck you off.” You admitted as you pumped his shaft softly in your hand, watching as Jake's mouth turned into a smile and he chuckled from the pleasure. “I’ve thought about it a time or two while I was touching myself.” 

“I’m dreaming.” Is all Jake said before you took his tip inside your mouth – tasting the slightly salty pre-cum as you swirled your tongue gently around his sensitive tip. “Oh fuck--!” Jake moaned as you worked your way down his shaft inch by inch, training your throat to take him in his entirety. Grinning up at him like the devil would. 

Hollowing your cheeks as you looked up, sucking hard as you watched Jake exclaimed a guttural groan as he ran his hand through his hair. “Oh fuck, feels so good, holy hell!”

Your nose was tickled by the manscaped pubic hair that Jake had let grow a bit, his tip leaking more pre-cum down the back of your throat as you swallowed around his tip. Working him expertly. 

“S-shit! Come here, now I-I need to feel you before I fucking cum down your throat.” Jake pulled you up by your hair– watching as you gasped from the sudden pain that flooded your head, only for it to turn to pleasure seconds after. He made a mental note that you liked your hair pulled, something he would have to do another time– but for now all he wanted more than anything was to fuck your tight little pussy. As you crawled back up to straddle Jake’s lap, he was quick to rip the almost brand-new panties off your body.

“Jake—” His lips pressing against yours cut you off before you could complain.

“S’okay Darlin’, ill by you new ones.” His hand rested gently against your throat as he maneuvered his cock to your dripping entrance. This was the moment you had both dreamed would happen. Jake’s thick throbbing cock pressed slowly into your tight dripping pussy, stretching you out more than you had ever been stretched before as you sunk lower and lower– inch by inch. It was otherworldly. 

Jake’s cock grew thicker in the middle, a slight curve to the left, having to stop to moan at the pleasure you were already receiving half way down his thick shaft. At that moment your mind wondered— god help all the women who came before you. There were surely many. 

Because Jake's best friend meant you were around alot, you stayed the night more often than not and sometimes– on the rare occasion Jake let one of his conquests stay the night, you aided him by taking out the trash. 

“Oh fuck Jinx, please, j-just sink lower, b-begging you.” Jake whimpered as his hands gripped your hips tight, his head ducking slightly to take your right nipple into his mouth. As you sunk lower, finally taking Jake in his entirety in your tight pussy– his teeth sunk softly into the sensitive erect bud.

“UH—fuck! Jake, please move.” You whimpered, wanting Jake to buck his hips up into you, and so he did. He removed his lips from your nipple as he guided you up his cock a bit, arousal dripped down his shaft as he fucked up slowly into you. “Ahh- yes! Jake k-keep going!” You cried out into the hotel room, your mouth fell unapologetically open into an O shape as pleasure captivated your entire body. “Oh my god you feel so fucking good.” 

“So fucking right for me, so fucking tight for me huh? Ride me.” Jake ordered, his hand wrapped around your throat just the slightest bit more. You sunk down again, then back up almost instantly, quickly finding a comfortable rhythm as the sting from being so incredibly stretched out subsided into nothing but pure pleasure. “Never thought i'd get to see you like this, i'm the luckiest man alive.” 

“Ahh- fuck!” You both moaned in sync as you rode Jake’s cock, your hips rolled as your hands gripped the back of his hair, pulling tighter every time your pussy fluttered around him. “Yes, yes yes!” 

“Jake, I love you” you cried out, riding his cock the best you could as the coil inside your core tightened. Almost letting the tip fall out as you fucked down hard on the entirety of his length. Jake's eyes went wide as he watched your lips say the three words he’d been dying to hear you say for years. That he never thought he’d hear. 

When Jake went after Rooster and Mav there was one person he was thinking about the entire time. You. Simply you. His best friend. There wasn't a single thing Jake wouldn't do for you. You were the only person who ever saw the good in him amongst all the male bravado. You were the only person who knew why he was the way he was. You were the only person who ever gave him the benefit of the doubt and knew when the time came–Jake would do whatever it took to keep the people around him safe. 

Jake Seresin had been in love with you ever since that very first day he sat next to you in TopGun. He counted his lucky stars every night on every deployment he went on since as he stared absentmindedly at the photo he took with him everywhere of the two of you after graduating top of the class. His wingwoman, his best friend, the love of his life. 

Your callsign was blatantly wrong. The reason you were giving your callsign in the first place was because you’d been paired with Jake. it was a Jinx, a bad pairing that everyone, including none other than Natasha Trance thought would end in a tragedy. Jake would leave you hanging like he did with everyone else. 

But here you were. 

“I, oh fuck Jinx I love you too.” Jake moaned near pornographically as you tightened around him once again. Every time you sat down on his cock his tip pressed against your cervix, filling you so good you were sure you’d cum within seconds if he kept hitting all the right places. You were getting closer and closer with every thrust. 

“Cum around my cock Darlin’ – I wanna see your pretty eyes roll in the back of your head when you cum on my dick.” Jake's voice was heavy, he spoke through heavy breaths as he worked his hand between the two of you– his thumb rubbed figure eights over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Trust Jake Seresin to know exactly how to please a woman. 

“Ah! Fuck m’wanna cum so bad, keep going, please!” You whimpered, falling into Jake’s chest, his head fell into the crook of your neck. He could see your ass bouncing so perfectly up and down as you flicked your hips– his eyes widening at the sight. So perfect. So sexy and oh so hot. 

“Look at you, riding my cock effortlessly, you like my cock inside you huh Darlin’? Show me how much you love my dick inside you.” Jake moaning dirty nothings in your ear was only working in his favour as he pushed you further and further towards your orgasm. The hands that wrapped softly around your throat released to fondle your ass, helping you keep your fast-paced rhythm. Aiding you in your efforts to get off on Jake's cock. 

“Oh yes! m’cumming don’t fucking s-sto.. ah fuck!” You cried into Jake’s shoulder, the hand that rests on your ass came to pull your hair back into a makeshift pony, forcing you to look at Jake as you came.

“Look at me Darlin’, wanna see how pretty you look.” You gasped as you pulsed and throbbed around Jake’s shaft, wrapping so tightly around him as he watched you tremble above him, fucking you softly through your high. Jake watched your eyes roll, watched your mouth gasp for air as you held your breath- he watched the sweat that dripped down your forehead as you came hard for him. Fluttering rapidly and without rhythm around him as your velvet walls constricted his shaft and took him hostage. Leaving him at the mercy of your orgasm. 

“Fuck, hop off, oh my god—I’m about to fucking—oh god.” Jake groaned, his own orgasm was so close. He could feel the pool at the base of his shift filling rapidly. Your slick folds worked to slick his cock to the point of no return. Helping your still trembling body off him and down to your knees Jake held your hair as you opened your mouth, tongue waiting and welcoming the warm spurts of cum that shot from Jake’s tip as he stroked his length to his high. Watching his cum cover your beautiful face. 

Jake watched as you licked as much as you could from around your mouth, watched with wide eyes as you swallowed his seed before he leaned back again– lazily stroking his semi-erect cock. A giggle left your mouth as you looked up at Jake, his cum dripping down from your face onto your bare chest.

“What’s so funny?” Jake asked as he came down from his high— still trying to catch his breath. Still trying to wrap his head around the fact you’d both just done what you did. You could only look up at him innocently as you bit your bottom lip. So completely mesmerised by the man who’d just become so much more to you than you ever thought he would be. 

“You forgot your award…” You’d only just realised  had left his Man of the Year award behind.

Jake looked at you softly before he took your lips hostage once again. Tasting his own cum on your lips, a taste he didn't mind sharing so long as it was on your beautiful lips. Kissing you tentatively and slowly before he pulled away. You were all he ever needed. 

“I went home with someone much more valuable."

***~***~***~***~****~****~***~***~***~****~****~

[entropicbias]

do you think people need to be at least naturally good at something to ever become great at it or to ever create something of worth. like even if they work hard at it forever they just cant do it

here's some doodles of jade before i answer this question. uh, no. this is a shitty way to think! i mean, sure people can be naturally good at things and it gives you a leg up, but thinking you can't achieve something because you weren't born perfectly good at it is not a good mindset.

i mentioned how i am a practicing cardist, but i have quite small hands. now, if you don't know, that's like a huge genetic disadvantage when it comes to cardistry, cause i have a lot of struggles performing one hand shuffles like the thumb cut or the revolution cut. basic moves that i just struggle so hard to execute. but, and if you're in the cardistry space you'd know that people are very heavy on the fact that you can overcome the issue with practice and determination.

unless you're being judged competitively at magic olympics, cardistry and magic isn't all about how "correct" you execute a trick, it's about the performance! so if you can find workarounds, and there are always gonna be some workarounds, then you can totally shit out a decent trick! magic is a spectacle, the value comes in how you present it, and the attitude you have presenting it. you don't have to be on houdini's level, sometimes just being a shitty ladbible skit is honestly good enough. there's a beauty to being crap at things as much as there is being good at things. or being just decently good. and it's similar to comedy in a way too.

there are so many people in this world that will hate you or love you no matter how good or bad you are at something. as long as you have the can-do attitude, you can do whatever you want. i saw this image earlier about progress, and how progress is different for everybody. you can have slow progress, quick progress, or it can vary from slow to quick. and the rate at which you progress can also be different for everybody or different things you try to learn. but it can never halt completely unless you give up in yourself.

so, don't! when i was growing up, i saw this one video of a girl three years younger than me painting beautiful intricate anatomically correct portraits of jesus from age 3 and i looked at my shitty undertale art and thought "holy shit i'm fucking ass" but did that ever stop me from drawing? no! and honestly, i have not improved much since! but i love to draw, and even though my friends are better and much faster than it than me, i still love to do it!

anyways, thanks for the ask, even if it might be a spam ask cause i've been getting those quite a lot.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

TAKE CARE OF YOU [7]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 2,800

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: this one is on the shorter side, but I didn't want to leave y'all with nothing (ironically I wrote this while on a plane to my conference/vacation). The Las Vegas trip will all be one large chapter (someone asked if I was gonna split that into parts, but I won't). Part 8 will just be viva las vegas the entire time, baby.]

07: BEING VULNERABLE SUCKS ASS

"i don't have an explanation as to how you pull me in, you just do. you've always had a gravity that i've never been able to overcome." -JmStorm

The cost of a mani-pedi never seemed worth it to you in the past. You saved your money for other more necessary things like bills and groceries. Sitting in the padded chair with your feet resting in the heated water of the foot bath, you realized how much you had been missing out on. 

“I can’t believe that bitch showed up where you work.” Nima scoffed. She sat in the chair beside you with her feet in her own bath. You had used Joel’s money to pay for her to get a mani-pedi as well and that made you happier than the treatment itself. Over the years, Nima would pay for meals and drinks and times the two of you went out and she always did it nonchalantly and in a way that never felt like charity. It felt good to be able to buy her something for once. “How did she even find you?”

You shrugged, “No idea. Sugar baby grapevine?”

“Bitches do be talking.” Nima hummed. You chuckled and leaned back in your seat. This spa offered mimosas and you held your empty flute. Nima picked up her phone to shoot off a message before turning to look at you. “So? Viva las Vegas, baby. You excited?”

“Yeah,” You nodded once then tilted your head with a slight wince, “Well, I mean, I’m kind of nervous too. This is my first time going away with him. He’s stuck with me for a full 72 hours.” Once you started talking you found all your bottled worries spilling out. “What if he thinks I’m annoying and gets tired of me? I’m too scared to ask him if we’re staying in the same room or a different room because I don’t know what I want the answer to be. If he says no then I’ll be disappointed and worry that he is getting sick of me, but if he says yes then I’ll panic⏤ Is he not the man I thought he was and he’s expecting something from me? Or what if it is innocent and he got me a second bed, but then he hears me snore and thinks it’s gross?” You paused to catch your breath and realized Nima was just blankly staring at you with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

Nima shook her head. “Nothing.” She looked past you and raised a hand to catch the attention of an employee. “Hi! Yes, we need more alcohol please. As soon as possible.” You groaned and hung your head. Nima let out a low whistle. “Is that what your brain sounds like all the time? Jesus, babe.”

“I know I’m overthinking.” You admitted. A woman came by with a champagne bottle and you thanked her after she filled your glass⏤ turning down the juice she offered with it. You took a long sip. “I like him.” Nima’s eyes widened. “Yeah, yeah, you were right, okay? I… I like him. A lot.” A hand drifted up to hold the sunflower charm on your new necklace between your fingers. Tomorrow morning you’d be boarding a private jet with Joel and you’d be spending the weekend with a guy you were seriously crushing on. “I know it’s so stupid to start falling for a guy who is literally paying me to hang around him…”

Nima sighed, “Oh, babe.”

“This is the first time I’ve felt like this since… since Nathan.” You said. At the mention of you ex-boyfriend’s name, Nima’s eyebrows furrowed in pain. You didn’t often mention him, hardly said his name, and it was in part because just the thought of him hurt. Whether he meant to or not, Nathan made you feel like you had not been enough. Joel made you feel worthy. You hadn’t even realized that the hole Nathan left in your heart had been so deep until Joel began to fill it with care. “Maybe I shouldn’t go…”

Nima reached out and grasped your wrist. “No. You have to.”

“You told me liking him was a bad idea.”

“I know, but…” Nima shrugged. “You seem happier these days. Relaxed. I can’t tell you if this is going to end well or not, I have no idea, but… even if this is just some kind of emotional rebound, I think it’s good for you.” You gave her a small smile and Nima squeezed your wrist. “Nathan was a tool. You deserve to be happy. Even if happy comes in the form of a cowboy sugar daddy.”

You chuckled at her phrasing. Joel did make you happy. The negative, anxiety riddled part of your brain screamed that being a sugar baby was hardly the same thing as being loved. However, for the first time in your life you were choosing to ignore the logistics of the scenario and just focus on how you felt. 

“I keep telling myself to just be like you.” You admitted and Nima’s eyes widened. You chuckled and shrugged. “You’re never scared, Nima, and I feel… I feel like I’m always scared. You just explore love, guns a’blazing, and I wish⏤ I wish I could do that.”

Nima turned so fast in her seat that water sloshed out of the foot bath. She frowned, “Are you kidding me?? Of course, I’m scared! Loving someone, opening up yourself to be loved, is the scariest thing anyone could ever do.” Her lips pressed together and she reached out so both her hands held tight to yours. “So, don’t stress yourself out over it. How you feel is totally normal. Being vulnerable sucks ass.”

You shot her a firm smile as a few employees came over to discuss any specific nail styles you may want. Worrying about it too much would only ruin the trip. You had already come this far⏤ may as well keep jumping in head first.

It had been ages since you’ve flown, literal years, and never had it been in a private jet. Standing on the tarmac watching part of the flight crew roll your bags to be loaded, you just stared. Eventually, a large hand settled in the middle of your back. Joel saddled up beside you and he offered you a small smile.

“You gonna board or just stare at it all day, darlin?” He chuckled. He wore one of his suits, but he had already stripped of his coat. 

You nodded, “Yeah, sorry, I just can’t believe I’m about to board a private jet.” Without preamble or question, Joel’s hand slipped from your back to slide down your arm and tangle his fingers with yours. It was almost a habit now for Joel to take your hand. He led you toward the jet. “Do you always ride in style like this?”

“Not always.” Joel replied. “But I will say that ridin’ like this has spoiled me of public airlines.”

“No kidding.” You chuckled and Joel motioned for you to walk up the stairs to the jet’s door first. He followed only a step behind, hand not leaving yours. The inside of the jet was simple but luxurious. Couches rather than single seats and one side had a booth like table. “I can’t imagine going from this to Spirit airlines.”

Joel snorted behind you and stepped around you so he could lead you toward one of the couches. “If you think I’m ever gonna let you fly Spirit, sugar, you’re crazy.”

You sat down and your eyebrows lifted when Joel walked toward the back rather than sit beside you. He briefly disappeared from sight, it sounded like he was speaking to an attendant, and you took that time to gaze around the plush interior of the jet. This was your life for now. It felt like a dream.

Joel walked back and he had two champagne flutes. Your lips pulled up into a grin as he settled right beside you and offered you a flute. “For the pretty lady.”

“Why thank you.” You chuckled. The two of you lightly clinked your glasses together before sipping at it. Despite the jet having, ample space, Joel sat close enough to drape his arm over the back of the couch behind you. “How long is this flight?”

“A little over an hour or so.”

“Oh, that’s not bad.” You hummed. “Is anyone else flying with us?”

Joel shook his head. “Tess is gonna meet us there on day two, and Tommy never comes to the Vegas conference.”

“Why?” You asked then paused. “To both situations.”

Joel chuckled. “Day one is kind of pointless for us to be there. All the work and meetings my company is involved in starts day two.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Then how come we’re going for day one?”

Joel shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “I figured it’d be fun to sight see together? If you’re interested that is.” You always loved watching him grow slightly nervous when asking you something like that because the smile he shot you after you inevitably said yes was damn near radiant. You nodded in excitement and Joel’s eyes lit up in response. “Good, and as for Tommy,” Joel gave a little shrug, “He’s got a history of gettin' involved in shit he shouldn’t. He’s got his head straight on now, mostly, but it’s just safer if keeps away from the temptation altogether.”

The pilot poked his head in to let you both know he was ready and suggest you strap in. You glanced around to see if there was a place you could set your flute down but the closest table was on Joel’s side. He set his own flute down briefly and reached out. You thought he’d take the flute, but instead Joel reached down to click your seat belt around your waist. It was such a simple motion yet you felt a warmth fill your cheeks.

“Thanks.” You mumbled. The plane taxied out to the runway and you quietly sipped at your champagne. You felt a rumbling underfoot as the plane picked up speed and when it began to rise your stomach lurched. Startled, your hand shot out to steady yourself on the closest object which just so happened to be Joel’s thigh. 

Before you could even fully comprehend how awkward this could be, your hand squeezed as the plane continued to rise— your only focus on the sensation of taking off. As the plane leveled off, you were able to feel other aspects around you, such as how thick and firm Joel’s thigh felt under hand.

He cleared his throat and peeled your hand off his thigh. Embarrassment flooded your soul, but Joel kept your hand in his. He laced his fingers between yours, shifting closer so his thigh was pressed against yours, and lifted your hand to his lips to set a soft kiss at the back of your hand.

“Are you alright, sugar?” Joel asked with nothing but concern.

“Sorry.” You shook your head. “It’s been a while since…”

“Don’t apologize. I should’ve asked if you were a nervous flyer.”

“I didn’t think I was.” You chuckled and swallowed the lump in your throat as the plane hit a patch of turbulence and wavered. Joel continued to trace circles against the back of your hand with his thumb and you focused on that alone. Somehow, his presence alone was enough to soothe your frayed nerves. You leaned your head against his shoulder and Joel shifted so you’d be able to rest in a comfortable spot. You really did like this way too much. 

Joel hummed, “Lemme know if you feel sick. We got a first aid kit on here somewhere with some motion sickness patches, I think.”

“I’m okay.” You replied, loathing the idea of him getting up or anything right now, “Where are we staying in Vegas?”

“The Wynn.” 

“Is that where you usually stay?”

“No, actually.” Joel said. “I usually stay at Mandalay Bay, but I thought you’d like the Wynn better.”

You were glad you were resting your head on his shoulder so he couldn’t see the absolute stupid smile that crossed your features. He had changed his usual routine and picked a hotel that specifically made him think of you⏤ one he thought you’d enjoy best. Maybe the bar was just on the floor from your last boyfriend, but it was no wonder you were falling for Joel Miller when he did such sweet, considerate things. 

“Why?” You asked.

“It’s real pretty. You’ll see.”

The two of you continued to chat idly and you listened to Joel tell stories about past conferences and the things he was looking forward to and wasn’t. Your stomach had mostly settled now that the plane was smoothly soaring at its cruising altitude. So, you figured now was as good a time as any to use the restroom. You excused yourself and cautiously walked to the lavatory. As you finished up and washed your hands, your eyes glanced up in the mirror at yourself. You may as well have been glowing. For the millionth time, you thanked your lucky stars that Joel had somehow found you.

At the thought, you paused. This entire time you wondered how Rosalind randomly found you at work, but what were the chances that Joel Miller would randomly walk into a failing bakery and see you behind the counter? You shut off the water, dried your hands, and walked back out. Joel was using the plane phone when he spotted you.

“Yeah, we’ll see you when you get here.” Joel stared at you as he spoke, his gaze soft. “Just call me if you need anythin’. Mhmm. Right. Bye, Tess.” He hung up and set the phone aside. “All good, sugar?”

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Course.” Joel nodded and you settled back in your seat beside him. 

You didn’t lay your head on his shoulder and turned just enough so you could face him while the two of you spoke, “How did you find me?” Joel raised an eyebrow in confusion. “At the bakery. Were you just passing by and saw me through the window? Or were you coming in for baked goods randomly?”

Joel suddenly looked sheepish. He cleared his throat, “It’s… Alright, this might not sound too good or flatterin’ toward myself.” You furrowed your own brows in confusion this time. “That week I was at a work site a few blocks down from the bakery. I had stepped off site to take a call and… and I saw you.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck, but he didn’t break his gaze. “I recognized you from the coffee shop, figured you were going to work, and I… I followed you.” Joel closed his eyes and shook his head at the admission. “Jesus Christ, you must think I’m the biggest creep. I swear I didn’t mean to. It was like… I was movin’ before I even knew it. I nearly followed you right into the bakery, but I stopped and came to my senses.” He reopened his eyes and there was regret and shame in his brown eyes⏤ two emotions you didn’t like seeing there. “I’m so sorry, darlin’. I know it was stupid and I tried to stay away, but I… I couldn’t get you out of my head. I broke down a few days later and came in. Told myself I was just gonna pay you back for the coffee and be done with it, but once I got to talkin’ to you…”

“It’s okay, Joel.” You said softly.

“No, it really isn’t.” He shook his head. There was a firmness in his words that echoed the shame he felt. “I should’ve told you much sooner than this and definitely not on a plane 40,000 feet in the air where you can’t even run from me.”

“I’m not gonna run.” You chuckled. Maybe you should be more concerned than you were, but Joel had been nothing but respectful the entire time you had known him. Besides, the only thing you could grasp from his words was the fact that it seemed Joel felt drawn to you the same way you felt toward him. It could just be naive optimism or a delusion, but you began to wonder if it were possible that Joel liked you as much as you liked him⏤ as more than just the sugar daddy and sugar baby ties between the two of you.

You turned in your seat to lay on his shoulder once more. Joel seemed mildly startled by the motion, but he was quick to wrap his arm around your shoulders to hold you in place. You reached up to play with his hand. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

Joel chuckled, “I’m never gonna lie to you, sugar.”

The pilot came over the intercom to announce he’d be starting the landing process soon and you wondered if Vegas was going to be the start of a new chapter of your relationship with Joel.

taglist (closed):

@weddingfairy @bfences @fairntonorth @jasminedragon @biwitchy @huffle-punk @shelbyteller @anoverwhelmingdin @aheadfullofsteverogers @stagerightlauren @basicoccult @rinnfey @boofy1998 @farintonorth @thepascalofus @amatis-gray @casa-boiardi @northernbluess @jettia @sapphicsoie @spidey-3 @camiali25 @hrtsforpascal @gingersince97 @sentients17 @bigboiseason123 @lunxramour @ktheunready @heyheyheygaypay @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @adoringanakin @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @cherriebat @whitewolfstar01 @alyssa121611 @asreadbyaj @painfullyandprettypoetic @cantobightcafe @hellooseulgi @str84pedro

[previous][next]

✨J.M. Masterlist✨

[hobicakess]

IT WAS THE MONSTERS: 1

SUMMARY: You were born with the ability to see and spot spirits and monsters. From vampires to werewolves, demons, ghosts, and ghouls. Now, as an adult, you use this “gift” to help your clients overcome their worst demons. The “gift” you had never really caused you trouble now that you’re an adult, but you guess some monsters don’t like psychics who interfere with their fun. 

RATING: 18+ (i am not a babysitter, you are in control of what you consume.)

PAIRING: ot7 x reader | poly!au

Warnings: violence, eventual Polyamory talks of reincarnation, reader is too stunned to speak, destruction of property (damn vmin) inaccurate descriptions of paranormal activity & demon/spirits cursing terrible therapist reader has a purple eye small mention of religion, vmin chaos

A/N: I spent so much time procrastinating this sorry hotties. Only at least 1k word, but It took so much out of me.

Second sight has been passed along your bloodline from generation to generation. Due to unfortunate circumstances there was a sudden stunt in its flow for at least eight generations, until you were born. Your mother complained throughout her pregnancy that she’d see visions of you in your past life but it was waved off as a delusion. When you finally graced the world, your father says there was a flash of something in your eyes, a purple gleam that danced there as he held you.

At least, that's the story you get when you ask about your eye.

Playful spirits yanked at your puffs and pulled out your barrettes and often caused your silky pressed hair to frizz. Some monsters take their time to torture you by sitting in your closet or under your bed, lurking in the shadows. Middle school was definitely your worst era. You had random outbursts and twitches that caused people to push away from you. It wasn't even your fault, but what could you really say?

Being that you were the first in two hundred years to be sighted, you had no one to teach you how to control this so-called "gift" At least that's what others liked to call it. There are many that call you blessed, and you'd beg to differ. Growing up, this curse always gave you nothing but trouble.

“It’s not me! it’s the monsters!” That's ridiculous really.

Your parents took you to therapy for it but you could see the deceitful demons sucking and clinging onto them, so that never helped you at all. They were so quick to throw you a bottle of pills that it eventually stopped working.

  As you get older, you learn to ignore it along with learning to be patient and more even tempered. During high school you were weird and lowkey, wearing huge black sunglasses from freshman to senior year. They helped block out your sight and question's about your eye.

You managed to make friends with a werewolf though he left unannounced in the middle of senior year.  You guess he shifted early and went away to his home where people like him roamed freely. Graduating as a below-average person, you decided to say fuck college and open your own business.

Identifying the demon. This wasn't hard for you, since you literally saw the demon sucking the life out of a person

A “palm reader” ,  “physic” , “witch”, “Woman Jesus”. There were many terms that your clients and random people called you. Your job was to find your client's demons and attack them.

Any addiction, health issues, relationship problems. These were all caused by parasitic demons and they thrived off sucking the life out of regular people. You didn’t have the qualifications to banish anything by force, so you did help many people in a safer, smarter way with three easy steps. 

Acknowledge them

Taming them

 And the most common among all parasites are lust demons. 

Their job was to suck you completely dry and leave you broken. Most people were too far gone before you could save them, but the ones who weren’t you changed their lives greatly. One night while you were closing your shop, two men walked in, one short and blond, the other dark haired, and taller than the other. They were both dangerously handsome and the energy that came from them was hot, sensual, and angry. The blond stormed up to you hissing, eyes turning an unnatural shade of black. “So you’re the one putting us out of business?” 

Staring at his face, you could definitely tell this was one of the men disrupting the lives of so many men and women in this area. Most of your clients have complained about these two being a one-night stand at some club, then as days go on they invade their dreams, and every single thought. Jimin and Taehyung, the dynamic incubus duo. 

You’ve never had a demon come directly to you for butting into their affairs. You guessed these two were fearless, but fortunately the underworld had rules. If any entity killed someone on second sight, they’d be banished back to hell for eternity, and by their energy you were sure these two parasites have been around for a long time.

“I’m sorry gentlemen, I'm not sure we’ve met?” You tilt your head, clenching your purse strap up on your arm. Taehyung scoffed, walking around your shop touching a few things every now and then, with a flick of the wrist, the shelf on the side of you tumbled to the ground. 

You squeak, moving out of the way, tripping and knocking over a display table filled with tarot cards. “You are the only one in this miserable town with real second sight.” 

While Jimin talked, Taehyung walked through your shop dropping shelf after shelf. 

“No screaming tongues, or holy water.” the crashing of shelves halted and only the thud of Jimin's boots coming towards you could be heard.  “Your banishing is less dramatic, more modern, effective and so you.” 

You jumped at the sound of your crystal ball shattering above your head, making you scream, as tiny shards of glass cut into your hands. “Y/N L/N, that is your name now?”  

When Taehyung spoke your name, the walls began to vibrate as did your body. 

You were speechless, scared, and confused. They talked as if they knew you from another lifetime. You can't say you didn't believe it was possible, since you saw devious things every day, but it was still nerve-racking to hear. ''Maybe we should just keep you little princess, and bring back those old memories ”

“Ah taetae, I don't think this is our little princess, just a sad little human of no morals or knowledge” Jimin appeared in front of you, bending down to you, hand burning into your skin as he lifted your chin up to meet his blood red eyes surveying your skin.

“Though you still possess an untouchable beauty”

 Your shop began to shake and tremble, all the shelves had fallen, glass shattering and books spinning around the three of you. 

Standing, he made himself very loud and clear, “Don’t let us hear your name again,” and for their grand finally the front windows of your shop shattered around you.  

TAGS: @tinymesblog @leilei-9 @starrlo0ver @uarmyhore @mageprincess @lachimolala22019

@eclecticranchzonkcookie @thedarkwinterrose@hey-syia  @djodjom  @scuzmunkie 1  @ilover ubberduckiez-blog  @jamlessstars @rinkud

[artyandink]

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

A/N - feedback is my fuel :)

two - sunflower

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I crept down the stairs, treading light in fear of startling Will. I gently tried the door, hearing a little girl whimpering. Then I spotted a middle aged man holding a gun, and a small brunette girl hugged my legs, terrified.

“It’s ok.” I whispered, training my gun on Will Brown. “It’s ok, sweetheart. As for you,” My eyes focused on the man, “Sheriff’s department, put your hands where I can see ‘em-” He fired, and my trigger was pulled in a quick response, aiming for his shoulder while his bullet got me clean in the gut, which was caused by me moving to protect Harriet at the same time. The little girl screamed, while Beau and Jenny started yelling from upstairs. I collapsed against the wall, sliding down as Harriet crawled up to me, looking terrified.

“He hurt you.” She whispered, crying, but I shushed her and brought her head to my shoulder, ignoring the riddling pain in an attempt to soothe this little girl.

“Hey, it’s-” I was overcome by a cough as my hand moved to stem the flow of blood, “it’s ok, sweetheart. Perfectly fine, you’re safe, ok?” I stroked her hair, closing my eyes briefly as the red liquid stained my fingers. My head spun from how damn painful it was, like a thousand daggers piercing one spot on me, driving in slowly. “Just calm down for me, my friends are coming.”

As if on cue, Beau and Jenny rushed in, and once they realised that my attacker and Harriet’s kidnapper was downed, their attention turned to me. Beau instantly knelt in front of me while Jenny checked up on Will, his expression freaked out and pale. “Jesus- Jesus holy Christ, Belle, we’re gonna need a paramedic. Hoyt, call it in, now!” Then he turned back to me, putting his hands over the bullet wound to put pressure. I coughed slightly, hissing, but I kept stroking Harriet’s hair, not wanting her to get too scared.

“Just get her out of here.” I nodded to Harriet. “I’ll hold on, just keep her safe.” My bloodied hand reached out to grip Beau’s bare forearm. “Take her home.”

NOW:

The world around me turned from black to blurry colour as I opened my eyes, the cold breeze of somewhere unfamiliar hitting my face as I groaned softly. My finger twitched, something heavy clamped onto it, making me let out a small, admittedly pathetic whine of confusion. My head hurt slightly, and there was a bearable throbbing pain in my stomach. I saw a woollen blanket over me, the room smelling of antiseptic and the walls painted blue and white with telltale plastic chairs and tables beside the bed, along with monitors beeping with my vitals on display on either side of me. The tables had flowers and small presents on it. The hell would someone be thinkin’ to give me all this? My head fell back against the pillows piled up behind my head as I registered where I was.

The hospital.

“God, it’s been a while since I was in one of these.” I grunted to myself, then I found a nurse standing at the door. She smiled upon seeing me awake, instantly coming over to take the tube out that was inserted into my arm.

“You’re awake, Deputy Joyner.” She chuckled, looking at me in admiration. “My name’s Lydia, I’m your nurse. Your vitals seem stable, so I can report back to Dr Jones and also notify your visitors to come and see you, if that’s fine with you.”

“How long have I been out?” I asked, coughing slightly. I felt at ease around Lydia, her friendly disposition making the fact that I had a bullet wound in my stomach a lot more bearable. I caught sight of myself in a mirror- tired, worn out, almost identical to who I saw six years ago in a hospital mirror, minus the cuts and bruises.

“Six days. You suffered from blood loss, so it’s understandable.” The information almost made my heart shatter. It was Liv’s birthday tomorrow, and had I not woken up today, her auntie would be in hospital when she was needed the most. I turned to Lydia, nodding slightly.

“A-Alright. Who’re my visitors?”

“Quite a few, actually. There’s Jenny Hoyt, Emily Arlen, Cassie Dewell, Denise Brisbane, Beau Arlen, Olivia Barlowe and Dean Barlowe.” I wasn’t surprised that Mark wasn’t on the list, but I smiled anyway, knowing that I’d be seeing one of my best friends, Dean, after a long time.

“Let ‘em in.” I grinned, and she nodded, leaving. A minute later, the room was now full of every person on that list, all of them exclaiming in relief that I was ok, making me laugh. “Guys, I’m ok.”

“The hell you are, you had a bullet in you!” Dean scoffed, though there was a wide grin as he came over and hugged me cautiously. I patted his back, looking him in his green eyes with a smile.

“Well, now I am. Nice to see you, pal.”

“I’d say it’s nice to see you, but you’re in a hospital bed, so I’m gonna say it’s nice to see you alive.”

“Don’t hog her, dad.” Olivia pouted, practically shoving Dean away (albeit half-heartedly) before bear hugging me in a way that I wouldn’t get hurt. I stroked her hair, kissing it as I took a deep breath out.

“I’ll always have time for my baby girl.” I grinned, rubbing her back as I felt her shaking and holding back tears. “I’m ok, sweetie. I’m safe.” I shushed her gently, my eyes closing as I rested my cheek on her head. I opened them, looking up to Beau and Jenny with a small nod. Then my eyes landed on Emily, and I chuckled softly, raising my hand slightly from Liv’s back. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey, Elle.” Emily grinned, waving. I sent her a smile in response, my eyes glancing to Beau briefly before back at his daughter.

“Givin’ your dad any trouble?”

“No, no trouble.”

“Good.” I then let go of Olivia, kissing my niece’s forehead before looking at Jenny, Denise and Cassie, who all looked sympathetic. “Y’all need to stop lookin’ at me like that. I’ll be up and about in a few hours, like hell I’m missing my girl’s sweet sixteen.”

“You need to rest up, Belle.” Beau interjected softly, gesturing to me. “You took a bullet to the gut.”

“I’ll rest up when I’m dead.” I joked, moving to sit up, and Beau, with his Southern gentlemanliness, instantly stepped forward to make sure I didn’t strain myself.

“Easy, easy.” He helped me sit up, pulling the blanket further over me. “Don’t push yourself, ok?”

“You got sent presents.” Cassie pointed to the flowers and small gifts. “The Browns were ecstatic that you brought their daughter back.”

“So they sent over some beautiful forget-me-nots.” Jenny smiled, coming over to pat my shoulder. “We’re so glad you’re ok.”

“Bo-Bo, she deserves a raise.” Denise snickered, looking at Beau and waggling her eyebrows.

“Shush, Denise, I’m doing my job.” I chuckled. “The one I signed up to do, remember? You’re bound to get a bullet or two out there.”

The next day, it was Olivia’s birthday, and I’d gotten myself discharged from the hospital so I could be there for my baby girl. I had to wear a button-up dark blue plaid shirt, since that was easier to get on with a hole in your stomach, along with some comfy jeans. I was looking at a photo of my sister, Lucy, who was eight years older than me. Even so, she treated me like I was her everything, and she was mine too.

“Hey, Luce.” I whispered, my thumb rubbing over her broad smile. It was almost like she was here with me, with that twinkle in her blue eyes that we shared and her brunette hair that was cropped at her chin but still somehow fell in beautiful waves that made her look ethereal. “It’s been a while. Six years, to be exact, and I miss you. Dean misses you, Mark does, Liv especially. She’s grown up to be so… so beautiful, so you.

You’d be so proud of her, Luce, she even has your brains and we’re all the better for it.” I laughed a bit, then looked back. “I wish you could see her, I really do, but I hope you’re watching. Wherever you are. Love you.” I kissed my hand, pressing it to the frame while my memories with her flashed in front of my eyes like a film reel. “I love you so much.”

“Aunt Isa?” I heard from the door, turning to see Olivia. She looked stunning, wearing a pretty blue sundress that was decorated with yellow flowers, her hair done up with a matching blue flower clip and some yellow flats.

This was my sister’s daughter.

“Liv, honey.” I smiled broadly, going to hug her immediately. “You look gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Really. If I made a daughter from scratch, I’d want her to be you.” The words made a goofy smile appear on her face, and she hugged me again quickly. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, auntie.”

When I pulled away, I stroked her cheek before remembering something. “Oh! Uh, your mom, before she died, she had a shoebox that she wanted to give to you on your sweet sixteen.”

“A…” Liv’s eyes narrowed, “shoebox?”

“Sounds lame, I know. But…” I hurried over to look underneath my bed, pulling out a grey shoebox with ‘Olivia’ written in Lucy’s neat handwriting. I passed it to her for her to open. Olivia took the box with slightly shaky hands, opening the top.

Inside were multiple cassette tapes, eleven when I counted, of Lucy’s favourite songs, along with a couple of first edition books and pieces of her jewellery. Necklaces, rings, at the forefront a charm containing a raven’s feather. The jewellery were mostly silver, but the few gold ones I recognised were from her weddings. Her engagement rings along with a golden locket that Dean had given her. Along with photos of Olivia growing up until she was nine years old.

But something caught my eye.

I saw one of the eleven cassette tapes had a word that I recognised all too well.

Sunflower.

While Olivia was busy admiring the necklaces, I nicked the tape from the box, storing it in the pocket of my jeans. I noticed a large shadow cover the light from the door, and I saw Beau there. I could trust Beau with this. He could help me, so could Jenny and Cassie. I quickly exchanged a look with him that he understood, so he put on a smile, strolling over and clapping me on the shoulder.

“There’s my Southern Belle, all up an’ about. From a Texan to a Kansan, you are what I’d call a Texan 10, even in a faded plaid.” He grinned, squeezing my shoulder slightly and winking before turning to Olivia. “And you, young lady, must be Olivia.”

“That’s me.” Liv nodded, looking between Beau and I. “And you must be Aunt Isa’s favourite sheriff.”

“While I appreciate it, I’m the only sheriff.”

“Exactly.”

“Liv, sweetheart, can you go downstairs? I’ve gotta bring the cake, but start opening your presents.” I said to Olivia with a sigh. I kissed her hair, smoothing it back for a moment before letting her go, and then I turned to Beau when I knew she was out of earshot.

“Something’s up, right?” He frowned, folding his arms and tilting his head. “Talk to me, Belle.”

I held up the cassette tape, a long sigh leaving my mouth. “Titled ‘sunflower’. It’s the nickname my sister used to call me, so I can’t help but think if this is a message seen six years too late.”

“Or something that got mixed up in the wrong box.”

“That’s also a possibility.” I nodded, then pouted in thought. “I’ve got a cassette player somewhere in my study. After Liv’s celebration here is over and she’s out with her friends, whaddya say we have a lil’ listen to it?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Beau agreed, then his eyes landed on the framed photo of my sister and I. “That’s Lucy, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“She looks just like her sister.” He rubbed my arm comfortingly, the backs of his fingers grazing my skin. “How much older was she?”

“Eight years.” I replied softly, leaning slightly into his touch, even though I didn’t quite register it.

“Ah, so she’d be lordin’ it over us if she was still alive. Even a forty-year-old sheriff can’t escape the clutches of an older sister.”

“Neither can a forty year old deputy.” I chuckled, and his hand moved down to hover in front of mine, but my pinky wrapped around his, my breath hitching as I thought of the day I’d skipped down the stairs six years ago and found my sister dead in the garden, multiple knife wounds in her chest. Then the weeks after where I searched and searched for any leads but found none.

My head snapped forward, glass breaking and flying to the left, cutting my cheek as the seatbelt tightened on my chest. My forehead banged against the wheel, a cry escaping my mouth-

“Hey, Deputy.” Beau’s low timbre snapped me out of it again, I looked into his warm green eyes, the ones I’d grown to trust with my life. “You doin’ ok?”

“I… yeah.” I nodded, cracking a smile. “Let’s go celebrate my baby girl’s birthday, hm?” Then I started making my way downstairs, taking the cake from a side room before emerging into the kitchen/dining room and setting it on the counter. Carla, Mark, Dean, Poppernak, Jenny, Cassie, Denise, Cormac (surprisingly) and Emily were all there, and let out a loud cheer upon seeing me up on my feet.

“There she is!” Jenny grinned, pointing to me.

“Deputy of the Month.” Poppernak added with a smile.

“Pops, what did Sheriff say about sucking up?” I winked before going over to hug them each, reaching Carla, who I smiled at happily. “Carla, it’s so good to see you.”

“You too.” She hummed, patting my back before looking me in the eye. “Beau told me about the shooting; are you ok?”

“Perfectly fine, just a few surface scratches, not enough to down me.” I chuckled, then turned to the cake, unboxing it quickly. It was a chocolate cake with vanilla icing and caramel drizzle, and it had ‘Happy Birthday Olivia’ in swirling chocolate piping. I kissed Olivia’s temple, patting her shoulder as I whispered in her ear. “Your mom’s necklace suits you.”

“Hey, kiddo.” Mark walked over with a smile I knew was forced for Olivia’s sake. “Isabelle.”

“Markham.”

“I got Olivia’s present.” He held out a gift-wrapped box, which I put to the side. “Look, you must be really tuckered out from the bullet. I could take Liv for until you get better-”

“I think I’m good.” I smiled briefly, nodding curtly. “I can take care of other people even with a bandage on me. But, uh, thanks for offering.”

He lowered his voice so Olivia couldn’t hear. “I don’t appreciate you keeping my daughter from me. This is why I made the custody claim.”

“Can we not talk about this on my niece’s birthday?” I asked in clipped tones, but I still put on a smile. “I’d hate to dampen everyone else’s parade with your half-assed smiles and trivial personal matters.”

Mark’s grey eyes bore into me for a moment, but then I felt the looming presence of Beau behind me, which seemed to prompt him to back off.

Jenny, Cassie, Beau and I sat down in front of a cassette player once everyone had cleared out. I held the tape between my fingers, trembling slightly as I wanted to find out what Lucy wanted to tell me. Or if it was all in my head.

“When you’re ready.” Jenny patted my back, giving me the strength I needed to put the tape in, shutting the compartment with a click and pressing the play button. The tape whirred, a voice crackling to life. Lucy’s voice.

‘Hey, sunflower.’ It was her. Clear as day, exactly how I remembered her from six years ago. Beau’s hand automatically covered mine, a subtle gesture that told me that he was there. Her voice was shaky, unsure, nothing like the honeyed tones and sweet, soft syllables that I’d known since I was born and even before that. ‘I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this, but I want you to know that I love you. I… I had to tell you somehow, but things were getting worse. Much worse, but I didn’t want to worry you. You were so happy with Jack, and I miss you. I guess after a while it hit me. That not having you around makes things that much harder, because it was always you and me. You… and me. Never forget that.’

“Luce.” I whispered as the player clicked, telling me that the recording was over. “What were you hiding from me?”

“I’m so sorry, Elle.” Cassie sighed, rubbing my shoulder.

“My apologies, sweetheart.” Beau rumbled in agreement while Jenny pressed her cheek to my other shoulder to give me comfort. My breath was shaky, as the reality dawned on me like the sun on a night sky when it was the crack of daylight.

My sister’s murder case wasn’t as open and shut as I’d initially thought, and it terrified me.

I woke up in a hospital, panting and spotting the angry scarlet bruises and cuts-

“Belle.” Beau’s voice lulled me out like it always did, and I held onto that sound- his deep, coaxing words that I couldn’t help but relax to - like a lifeline.

Like the only lifeline I had.

“Yeah, I’m with you, just…” I took a deep breath in, “last time I investigated my sister’s murder, I ended up on the tail end of a hit ‘n’ run.” I exhaled the breath, “Ain’t my finest moment.”

I scrolled through Instagram, since Olivia had taught me how to use it over a long and chaotic three hours, and the first thing I conveniently saw was my ex boyfriend Harry McIntyre with his pretty redhead girlfriend, the one who he cheated on me with. The lights of the bar illuminated my drink in purples, greens and blues, and I was beginning to enjoy the silence and tranquility of drinking alone.

“Isabelle.” Markham slid into the seat in front of me, making me roll my eyes oh-so-obviously in hope it would ward him off like salt does a ghost or demon.

It didn’t work. Just. My. Luck.

“Markham.” I replied coolly, sipping my beer as a thousand thoughts ran through my head about how I should stay calm and not deck this man in the face just to honour and respect my elder sister’s memory. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m not exactly going to be subtle or quiet about this, Isabelle.” He frowned, leaning forward slightly. “I am Olivia’s father, and you need to give custody over to me.”

“And I’m not gonna be subtle or quiet about this either, Markham.” I retorted, my mouth set in a thin line. “Lucy left me as Olivia’s legal guardian in her will. I plan to keep it that way. And, mind you, she’s your stepdaughter. I’d rather let Dean be her legal guardian.”

“I don’t trust Dean.”

“You don’t trust anyone!”

“Look, he just doesn’t come off as the good guy to me.” Mark persisted, but I took a sip of my beer and shook my head, scoffing. The audacity of this man.

“And you do?” I frowned, tilting my head in confusion and partial anger.

“I never said that.”

“Sounds like you did.”

“I just think Olivia would be safer with me.”

“Ok, Mark, let me make this very clear.” I smiled, but not the usual one. It was rather… menacing, because my eyes glinted dangerously. “I don’t want my night of peaceful drinkin’ to be ruined. You almost rained on a sunny day when you tried to bring this up at my niece’s birthday party. I’m not giving Olivia up. That girl means the world to me, and I ain’t keen on sending her to you. I do that when I’m on duty, but when I’m not, she’s with me. And it’ll stay that way, y’hear?”

Mark looked like he was about to argue, but my look silenced him. He shrank back, then got up and instantly went out the door. I laughed slightly, gesturing for a shot of tequila from the bartender. I’d had this conversation with Markham before, and it never, never ended in a mutual, calm agreement.

‘You… and me. Never forget that.’ I played that sentence over and over, listening to the quake in Lucy’s voice that only deepened the guilt in my gut to the point where it felt like the Mariana Trench. I remembered when the only expression on her face was pure happiness, and I could never understand why she was so optimistic, or even how she maintained it. All I knew was that I loved it. Too much, sometimes, to the point where Lucy was my everything and I was hers, in the best way possible.

It was always you and me.

It was, wasn’t it?

I looked down at my hands, the hands that could’ve stopped everything, stopped her suffering, the hands that were only a flight of stairs and a trip down the hall away. My ignorance at the time was crippling. The cruel thought that Lucy was safe and sound. It resulted in Olivia losing her mom and everything she knew, and having to live with her auntie.

Not that I’m not the best option, but if I’d picked up my metaphorical magnifying glass and looked closer, I’d see. See that things were wrong. Someone was after her, I didn’t know who, but one psycho was out to kill her, and succeeded.

The one of many times someone’s success felt like it twisted my heartstrings. The worst success.

I remembered the desperation that I had when I first investigated Lucy’s murder. The wild look I had in my eyes when I spotted myself in the mirror, and then one like a wounded animal when I wound up battered in a hospital. I didn’t want to go through that again. Not the false hope that I’d get somewhere. I didn’t need it, I didn’t want it, I couldn’t handle it. I’d possibly go feral if I found out the truth, but all the same, Lucy needed me. It was always me and her. When she was nineteen and I was eleven , not wanting to let her go because she was everything I had and more.

I hadn’t had that stable of a home life growing up. My dad cheated on my mom with his secretary and left her when I was three. Mom did the next best thing to dealing with the loss of her husband, which was filling herself brain high with any booze she could find. Lucy had taken the job of taking care of me, and she did a damn good job at it. Even got rewarded with an apple pie, white picket fence life to boot. I couldn’t have been happier for her, because she deserved every bit of happiness she got.

Even if I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable pain of investigating into my sister’s murder, I owed it to her. I needed to bring whoever killed her to justice.

I reached for my phone, dialling the first person that came to mind who’d help me with this case. I bit my lip, jogging my leg as I waited for him to pick up. ‘Hey, darlin’.’ I heard Beau’s voice from the other end, cherry as ever. ‘What can I do for ya?’

“Hey, Sheriff.” I breathed out, looking at the cassette player with stony eyes. “What d’you say to reopening a cold case?”

LMF TAGLIST:

@deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @nancymcl

PREVIEW OF CHAPTER THREE

[artist-issues]

I have loved reading your posts on various fiction from Christian perspective. I am wondering your opinion on when fantasy/"magic" fiction becomes too much? I used to encounter a lot of people talking about how basically -anything- fantasy was evil. I have struggled with scrupulosity OCD for many years now so I tend to think things towards a legalistic lens. I'd like to be able to enjoy fantasy again, while carefully discerning, so I'd love to hear what you think are the merits/limits of fantasy

Hi! First off, Jesus said: "These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world." When you're wrestling with scrupulousity, sometimes it helps to see or hear out loud the reminder that life in Christ is one that's supposed to give you peace, not constant worry about doing everything right--even if you've heard that before and you already know it, sometimes it can help to hear it over again from outside your own head. So there it is! 🤝

Next: thank you for asking me! I'm no professional. But someone did ask me this question once before. I am having a hard time finding it on my blog right now, otherwise I'd link to it, but I'll try to summarize at the end of this post!

EDIT: You asked me to talk about the merits and limits of fantasy and I got carried away explaining why fantasy fiction is not outright evil according to the Bible. I moved that to the end of the post 😅 here's what I think the merits are:

All of Reality, our world, our timeline, was invented by God. That makes Him the storyteller, us His characters, and reality His narrative. Just like any storyteller, He made up a system of rules for His world: rules like, "humans sink in water," and "humans can't be cured of sickness by touching other humans," and "the weather doesn't change just because humans tell it to." Then God, the storyteller, broke His own world-building rules. On purpose. He wrote Himself (Jesus) into the story as a human who COULD walk on water and COULD heal other humans with a touch and COULD tell the weather what to do, and it obeyed.

In fantasy stories, when a character can break the established rules of the created world, we call that "magic." We call it "magic" when the storyteller brings in a supernatural element to show that this character is special, powerful, capable, set apart from all the others.

So that's what I think the merits are. Fantasy stories have a special kind of closeness to The Storyteller Who Invented Stories, because of that very element of "make the rules then bring in rule-breaking specialness" that He uses.

That's where you get Gandalf, or even the Fairy Godmother, or of course Aslan and the Deep Magic.

The limitations to the genre, I would say, is that fantasy stories are very tempting for storytellers' egos. Because of Tolkien, there's this generation of storytellers who think that inventing a fantasy world with rules and races and magical systems and cultures and, to sum it all up, a whole universe of their own design, is the POINT.

They think the themes and the message of their story comes second to how thorough and clever they can be with their made-up magical systems, or fantasy-race-relations, or made-up languages.

Basically, in no other genre have I observed storytellers getting so excited to play god-of-their-own-clever-world than in fantasy. Then they forget that the important part of a story is the message, not the brain that's capable of inventing worlds and languages and cool-sounding names and ancestries. What they have to say basically gets lost in how flashy and cool they can be while saying it.

But that's another soap box for another time. Those are basically the merits and limitations, I think, broad-strokes.

On to the Biblical worldview for magic in stories below!

"Magic" is mentioned in the Bible. It's sorcery. Specifically, the Bible is telling Christians to stay away from "real" magic...which is basically just "trying to connect with spiritual forces to accomplish anything supernatural." We were created to have relationship with one Spirit: God. Anything outside of that is like a fish trying to breathe oxygen: it hurts us. So the Bible says, "no real magic."

But.

"Fantasy fiction magic" is not "a real live human trying to connect with real demonic forces and accomplish something supernatural." Instead, "fantasy fiction magic" is just "a real live human making up a story. Playing pretend."

The Bible has no commands, no rules, against that. Jesus told stories. His servants tell stories. We're made to tell stories.

And the Bible has no commands against telling a story that includes magic in it.

Think of it this way: God said "do not murder" right? But then in Matthew 18 Jesus tells a parable where one man tries to choke another man. There's attempted murder in the story Jesus is telling: but just because God disapproves of the act of murder, does not mean He disapproves of telling a story that features murder.

Sin being in a story isn't a bad thing. It's realistic, because sin exists. What really matters is whether or not the story treats the sin like sin, and not like an admirable thing. Because the point of all stories is to tell the truth in a compelling way. If the story treats something sinful like it's not sinful, that wouldn't be truthful. But if the story treats sin like it's definitely bad, then it's doing what God invented stories to do: tell the truth.

Now here's where you might say, "yeah, but most fantasy stories treat magic like it's a good thing."

Right. But remember: most fantasy stories don't have what the Bible calls "magic" in them at all.

When the Fairy Godmother in Cinderella says "bibbidi bobbidi boo," she's not calling upon demons to give her supernatural power (which is what the Bible is talking about when it condemns magic.) She's using a pretend superpower that the storyteller made up, on the spot, for the story. Her "magic" is not what the Bible calls "magic," so it doesn't even matter if it's portrayed as "good" or "bad" morally.

Fantasy fiction is fine. There is no reason, Biblically, for Christians not to read fantasy fiction if their only reason for it is "well there's magic in it."

There's nothing wrong with telling a story that has a supernatural element in it. It's only a story. As long as it's not real humans doing creation-worshipping or demon-contacting practices, in real life it's okay to write and it's okay to read.

Let me know if that makes sense!

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Too Late

Javier Peña x f!reader

Part four

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The rest of the night is a blur.

After the quickie in the back of his car, Javier drives you home. He walks you to your apartment and patiently waits for you to unlock the door.

When you swing the door open, you turn to him, hopeful. You want to take him to your bed, want him to have his way with you. “I…Do you wanna, um…?”

He must see your intentions in your gaze because he smiles softly, that charming sideways smile, and leans closer to you. “You should get some rest, angel,” he tells you quietly, his breath warm against your face. “We got work tomorrow.”

You nod, a little embarrassed that he turned you down and even more embarrassed that you dared ask. “Yeah. Yes, of course.”

He leans closer and kisses your lips slowly, softly, before pulling away. “I’ll see you in the mornin’,” he says lowly, voice thick.

“Okay,” you say quietly, wishing you could just drag him into your apartment and spend the rest of the night exploring him.

He kisses your forehead. “‘Night, angel.”

“Goodnight, Javi,” you reply as he turns around and walks down the stairs, towards his apartment. When he’s out of sight and the sound of his footsteps fades away, you sigh thickly, leaning against the open door of your apartment.

*What was I thinking?* you wonder. Javier isn’t a man of commitment. He’s committed to his job and to casual sex. But me…I’m just another side piece. And I’m still walking into this…

For some reason, that doesn’t bother you as much as it should. You go to sleep with a clear conscience and an untroubled mind. Or maybe that's only because Javier just fucked you dumb.

…

The next morning, your mind is in a haze. You don't regret what you did with Javi, not at all, but…

But what if he did? What if he wants nothing to do with me anymore? What if I'm just meant to be another notch on his belt?

You fear he'll have a bet going on with the other men in the office. He conquered the new girl in a month. She was so easy for him…

You try to shake those thoughts away as you get ready to go into the office.

Just take it easy, you think to yourself. Just see what happens. Don't get ahead of yourself.

As you're walking out of your apartment, you pass the small table where you keep a bowl with your keys. You eye the one to your car, wondering…

Paranoid that Javier will want nothing to do with you now, you grab your car keys, already mentally preparing yourself to keep yourself together as you drive to work.

But when you reach the apartment lobby, Javier is standing there, leaning against the wall. His aviators on, his leather jacket hugging his strong arms. He has a hand in his front pocket, the other one holding a cigarette to his lips as he smokes.

Your entire body heats up. Jesus fucking Christ, you're obsessed. You could stand here, watching him for hours.

As you approach, he turns to look at you, a gentle smile growing on his lips.

Fuck me, you think. I'm never getting over this man.

-

Every time Javier sees you, it's like the world stops and stares with him. He will never, ever not be absolutely enthralled by you.

He hadn’t gotten a blink of sleep. Not an ounce. He’d been thinking about you, reliving what had happened in the club and in the back of his car. He thought about it over and over, his cock hardening at the memory. He’d jerked off, hoping it would take you off his mind and let him sleep.

It did not work.

He barely slept at all, only thinking of you, your gorgeous body, the way you moaned. Your warm, wet, tight pussy.

Fuck.

Eventually, instead of lust, his mind was overcome with guilt. A thick, heavy guilt that weighed him down.

How could he have done that? He took something that wasn’t meant for him, something he wasn’t worthy of.

He fucked you like you could be his, like you would want him. You, the sweet, innocent thing you were and he had gone and put his cock in you. He was corrupting you. He was bad for you. You deserved so much better.

He figured last night was a weak moment for you, just a tiny while where your guard was down. And he’d gone and let his emotions and desires take over.

Fucking imbecile, he curses at himself.

And to top it all off, when you’d offered to do it again, he’d agreed. And when you invited him into your apartment…

He regretted saying no. But more than that, he felt guilty that he’d even considered saying yes. Why should he be able to have you?

And you. Oh, you sweet, sweet thing. You’d begged for him, you wanted him, you’d made him feel like he was worthy of you for those glorious hours in the back of his Jeep.

But now that he sees you standing there in the apartment lobby, ready for work, looking so young, so sweet, so untouched by all the horrors that haunt Colombia and, by extent, him…He feels that he does not deserve you. That he should’ve said no. That he should’ve stayed away from you.

You grin at him softly, approaching him carefully. And, God, he tries. Really, he tries.

But when you’re so close, your perfume invading his senses, he loses it. He pulls you in by the waist and kisses you deeply, his mouth soft yet ravenous against yours.

You let out a little surprised gasp and then kiss him back. His cock is already straining against his jeans, needing to be in you again.

It’s never going to be enough.

He pulls away, kissing the tip of your nose as he greets, “Mornin’, angel. Sleep well?”

“After that little stunt in your car? Absolutely,” you tease.

He chuckles. “Then I guess I’ll have to do it every night. Only so you can get your well-deserved sleep, of course.”

You laugh and his heart flutters.

No, no, no, his conscious yells. Don’t get into this. Don’t get into something you can’t get out of.

As if he had the strength to retract himself from this spiraling rabbit hole now...

His eyes fall to your hands and he sees that you have your car keys in your grasp. He frowns slightly. “You, uh, you goin’ somewhere before work?”

Your gaze follows his and when you see that he’s eyeing the car keys, a soft pink blush spreads on your cheeks. “N-no.” You shake your head quickly. “I just thought…”

He can feel you hesitate. He wants to grab your face in his hands, trace your cheek with his thumb, tell you it’s okay.

Instead, he waits.

When you see he’s expecting your answer, you finish, “I thought you…wouldn’t drive me this morning.”

There you go. See? Now you’re making her anxious. You’re going to hurt her.

He shakes his head softly. “Angel, no. Why wouldn’t I want to drive you?

You blush more, soft eyes glancing at the floor. “Well, I…it…I thought that after last night, maybe that was it?”

He grabs your chin in his hand, tilting your head up so you look into his eyes. “You thought I only wanted to sleep with you and that it would be over?” he asks you.

That’s how it should’ve been, he thinks. No, in fact, you should’ve never even slept with her in the first place. You should’ve just left her alone from the very beginning.

You nod softly. “I was just worried…I was afraid that maybe—”

“Angel, angel,” he says, cutting you off. “No. I’m not—” Not that kind of man. The lie is on the tip of his tongue. So he rephrases his sentence; he doesn’t want to lie to you. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You deserve more than that.” More than I can offer.

He doesn’t say that either.

A soft sigh of relief leaves you, a smile forming on your lips. You lean closer to him, those beautiful eyes falling to his lips.

He meets you halfway, this kiss tender and careful. He’s going to break you. He’s going to hurt you. It’s like someone’s tossed a delicate flower into his rough, bloodstained hands. After all these years in Colombia, all he knows is violence. Defense and offense. You either shoot or get shot.

But you’re this sweet, soft thing that should be placed on an altar and worshipped. Cared for. Treated with the utmost delicacy and attention.

And he can’t give that to you. He hasn’t even thought about ever having that since the day he didn’t show at his own wedding.

He’s lost hope in ever finding something more than a hookup. And the thought that you need—that you deserve more than that scares him. It scares him because he wants to give it to you. He wants to be more for you. He wants to be worthy of you and that would mean walking into unknown territory.

How could a man like him ever find peace and quiet? Ever find his way into your heart? How could he ever be worthy of you?

But he doesn’t say any of this to you. He just kisses you, enjoying the taste of your lips, and he knows.

He knows, he’s fucked.

…

Months go by. And day after day, he promises himself this is the last time he’ll fuck you. It’s the last time he’ll kiss you. It’s the last time, it’s the last time, it’s the last time.

That last time never seems to arrive.

In his apartment, on his couch, he’s fucking you from behind. You’re on all fours, fingers digging into the cushions as the pounds into you.

“C’mon, baby. That’s a good girl.” He watches as he slides in and out of your warm cunt, his cock coated in your sweet slick. “Oh, you’re so tight. I know you’re close, angel.”

You’re trying to push your hips back against his, attempting to match his rhythm, your body shaking.

Javier’s hands are splayed over your hips, occasionally moving to your ass, down your thighs.

He’s gotten to know every inch of your body. He’s memorized every sensitive spot. He could pleasure you with his eyes closed and that makes him both proud and guilty.

How can he keep doing this to you? He’s bad for you. You shouldn’t be with him.

But fuck, he can’t stay away from you. And God knows he's tried.

But nothing is enough. His hand wasn’t enough. His hookers weren’t enough. No amount of sex with strangers or cigarettes or whiskey has managed to keep him away from you.

You’re all he needs. He’s deeply convinced of that. He feels it. As long as he has you, how could he ever want more?

He wants to take you to his bed, wants to fuck you there, wants to spend hours with you writhing in his sheets.

But he never does.

He knows that if he takes you to his bed, he’ll go all night. And if he goes all night, he’ll want you to spend the night. He’ll want you to fall asleep in his arms, want to wake up next to you. He’ll want to wake you up with his tongue between your thighs and then he’ll fuck you slowly, softly, tenderly…lovingly. He’ll want to make you breakfast and keep you in nothing but one of his shirts. He’ll want more.

And he doesn’t deserve more of you. You’ve already given him so much. So much he’s not worthy of.

And he still wants more. So much more.

So he sticks to his couch, to the kitchen counter, to the back of his car. He never takes you to his bed. And he always takes you to his apartment because he knows that if he goes into your apartment, you’ll lead him to your bed. And he’s not deserving of that.

“Javi!” you moan, trembling as he tightens his grip on your hips. “Fuuuck!”

He groans, teeth clenched as he feels your pussy tighten around him, his cock twitching in response. “I know, I know…You're so close, angel. You think you can come for me? Hm?”

You nod, eager, desperate. “Mhmm!”

Fuck, every sound you make is magic. Every time he thrusts into you he feels in heaven.

He shouldn't enjoy it as much as he does, but the way your cunt takes him drowns out all those thoughts.

He watches himself slide in and out of you, the condom coated in your slick. He wishes so bad he could fuck you raw, feel that soft, warm pussy right against his skin.

But God, that would only make everything worse. So much worse. If he can't let go of you now, he doesn't even wanna imagine how impossible it'll be to even fathom to be with someone else after he's felt your bare pussy on his cock.

Suddenly, Javier thinks he understands all the people addicted to cocaine, all the people who make up Pablo's empire.

One little taste is all it takes. The tiniest of experiences. One good time and suddenly life could never be the same without the drug.

That's what it's like for him with you. He can't let go of you now. He needs you, he's obsessed with you, addicted.

He wants to turn this into so much more. Date nights, cuddling on his couch, soft kisses on your forehead…

He grunts, fucking you harder.

He doesn't deserve that with you. He's not the kind of man you should be with. You sweet, precious angel…

“Fuck,” he hisses between clenched teeth as he feels you tighten around him. “C'mon, angel. Come for me, yeah?”

One of his hands slips underneath you, tracing down your stomach, finding your needy, sensitive clit.

You gasp, back arching. “Mhmm! Mhm!”

“I know. You're so close, yeah? Be good. Come for me,” he says. And as you come, he groans, his hand digging into your hip, his other fingers still circling your clit.

He can imagine making coffee for you in the morning, having you walk around his apartment with nothing but one of his shirts on. He can imagine you being his.

But he wouldn't dare. How could he ever pretend to be worthy of you? He's not. He's a broken, broken man. And you're so young, so sweet; you're just too good for him.

The feeling of you clenching tight around him makes his hips stutter, his cock twitching in you as he comes, spilling his release into the condom with a loud groan.

He collapses onto you, his chest against your back, one of his hands holding him up on the sofa. He takes deep breaths, steadying himself, pulling his mind back to reality.

And then he pulls out of you and he's up, tossing the condom away before quickly tending to your needs, cleaning you up and taking care of you.

He gives you a soft, careful kiss and wishes…

Wishes he were better.

Wishes you weren't so innocent.

Wishes things were different.

But most of all, he wishes he didn't want you as much as he does.

Dividers by @cafekitsune! Thank you baeee, love these!

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@maiyart @cheesepannini @picketniffler

I'm sososo sorry for the delay! I've been dealing with so much shit omggg but I'm back now 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[thecalvinistkat]

Sonic Prime and Lord of the Rings: A Cross-Character analysis

So we all saw how Nine acted when he was hocked up on Prism energy…

that’s rough buddy

…but did anyone notice the similarities between him and the previous wielders of the Prism shards?

It reminded me a lot of Lord of the Rings, actually. The wielders of the Prism are so overcome, so intoxicated by the sinful energy that they cannot help but act irrational and ruthless.

And, if given the opportunity to hold on for too long, I’d imagine it might even become a Smeagol/Gollum situation. I mean, Dread was calling his shard “me beauty”— not all that far off from “my precious…”

I’m not saying that Nine and the others shouldn’t be held responsible for what wrong they did. But at least a part of them was acting under the maniacal influence of the Prism. I’m reminded of Paul’s words in Romans 7: 19-20:

“For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.”

On an opposite note: Sonic’s willingness to sacrifice himself points to his purity and goodness, and is almost sort of maybe possibly absolutely reminiscent of martyrs and saviors such as Jesus. Now don’t confuse what I’m saying here. I’M NOT SAYING THAT SONIC IS HEDGEHOG JESUS, OK. Please don’t make Jesus the Hedgehog a thing.

(That will immediately reverse the redemption that Jesus gave you when he died for your sins /j)

What I am saying is that all good stories have a hero, and the writers have to get inspiration for that hero’s qualities from somewhere. J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis both got their inspiration for their fantasy worlds (Hobbit/LOTR and Narnia, respectively) from the Bible’s story and message, so I don’t think that it’s a stretch to say that some of Sonic Prime’s heroic qualities are reminiscent of Biblical heroes.

After all, where better to get inspiration for a good savior than from the Ultimate Savior?

Sorry for the long post; here’s a Tails Chao

TLDR: Nine, Dread, and Thorn Rose were influenced by the sinful power of the Paradox Prism in the same way that Smeagol/Gollum was influenced by the sinful power of the Ring; Sonic’s heroic sacrifice is reminiscent of Jesus.

[sublimacje]

Some thoughts about The Chosen S04E07

SPOILERS AHEAD (as resurrection may be a spoiler, I mean we all know Lazarus' story... but, you know, spoilers)

I think it was the most powerful episode so far.

To be honest – when I read the story about resurrection of Lazarus I always felt happines, but after today's episode I feel grief – just as Mary M.

And for the first time I thought that maybe seeing miracle like this one wasn't really easy for Jesus' followers. Seeing something like this and not understanding any of it must've been very difficult. As we see, disciples are only humans – they don't understand Jesus' words and actions most of the time. They think earthly as if they're not ready to think other way, for now.

And how hard it had to be for Jesus as He knew His time has come. I like how writers showed us His emotions for He was a human. And I think it's one of the greatest mysteries of all time that He was a God, just as He was a human.

As for Thomas, I read some comments saying that killing Ramah wasn't wise choise for writers. And I think I can see why they did this. Seeing Thomas grief was hard to watch as, I can bet, all of us had to face similar grief in our lives.

But I believe that, as Jesus said it Himself, following Him is not easy. But His ways are not our ways. I'm glad that writers decided to show us that following Jesus is not always simple, because indeed it's not. And sometimes, even if we praying and begging, the God's answear is still no. And it's hard, but I believe, I want to believe, they're greater ideas behing His intentions.

And I think that a lot of us – Christians – know something about it. Because we pray but we don't get what we prayed for and we beg but still don't get what we begged for. And sometimes we see other people getting exactly what we desired to get... And we ask: God, why not me...?

Yes, it's very hard and I don't understand it completely to be honest, but do you all remember His words from season 2?

But in this world, bones will still break, hearts will still break, but in the end the light will overcome darkness.

PS. Something sweet to end this post. The meeting between Mary and Matthew? And Matthew words? Still unusualy pleasant to look at? I loved it.

[honourablejester]

All the Veilguard reveal posting has reminded me of Solas’ … Solas’ face and Solas’ voice, and Solas’ aggravating fucking opinions, and I can’t …

My one abiding memory of the shithead egg was his conversation with my dwarven inquisitor where he asked if I’d felt more moral since getting the anchor. And I just … I, personally, in the real world, was staring speechless at him for like a solid 60 seconds there. Just absorbing the implications of that. I was staring speechless, and then overcome with a vibrating need to drop kick the motherfucker off the top of Skyhold. Did I feel more moral. Jesus fuck.

Solas doesn’t think dwarves can have morals. He doesn’t think people not connected to the fade can be moral.

I’m nowhere near surprised Varric in Veilguard can’t talk him out of ripping the world open to the fade, because Varric, a dwarf, is talking to a man who doesn’t think non-magical people are real people. Like you can’t … you can’t dent that sort of worldview. You can’t logic the man out of it, you can’t plead on the basis of morality, because he doesn’t think you have any. His morals are the only real morals. His people are the only real people. You can’t talk to somebody like that.  

Sorry. It’s just the gameplay demo, and his face, and his voice, and his goddamn motherfucking …

I think the only time I have ever reacted as strongly to a character opening their mouth in a game was Altair in the opening scene of Assassin’s Creed, where he opened his face and I instantly wanted him, if not dead, then at least getting his arse resoundingly kicked immediately. That conversation with Solas was the same. I was incandescently angry at him. I was struck dumb with rage. And now he’s coming back around, and I’m trying to be sane about it, but god I wanna punch his face in.

Ahem. I have some previously bottled rage-type feelings towards the genocidal elven egg, apparently. Pardon. Carry on.

[effy-writes]

How about a Loona x Shy!Male!Reader one-shot??

Basically loona had been doing various activities with her boyfriend as a way to get him out of his comfort zone (like he doesn’t really like doing them, but does it just to make Loona happy). But after getting an invitation from Beelzebub and Vortex to a party, she sees it as a great opportunity to try and get y/n out of the comfort zone. The two then go to the party where y/n end up drinking a lot of alcohol, which started out small with shots only to lead to chugging large amounts with Loona being like “HOW?!”, and ends up being VERY drunk and doing A LOT of stuff at the party. The two would later leave with y/n being all ditzy and giddy and saying a bunch of babble, along with him saying how much he loves his hellhound girlfriend.

Then later the next day, he ends up with a terrible hang over and hardly even remembers all the stuff he did the night before.

thank you for requesting! hope this was what you wanted <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loona x Shy! Male! Reader: Comfort Zone

You were always shy growing up. Barely had friends because you HATED talking and didn't want to screw up. Which shocks you because you now have a girlfriend.

Loona has been great towards you. Always buying you stuff, loves cuddling, but you despise whenever she tries to get you out some more. She wanted you to overcome your shy nature so she's always inviting you to do things. You always say yes to her because you want her to be happy.

One day she called you saying that you and her got invited to Beezlebub's and Vortex's party and thought it would be a good opportunity to get you out of the comfort zone. You hesitated but then denied the invitation. You especially didn't like party's.

Loona begged you to go with her. She even told you some story's where she first got invited to this party and was a nervous wreck.

"Was it fun for you?" You asked over the phone.

"Well...yes and no. Dad..well Blitz kinda messed it up. But this time will be different! Please Y/n." She whined.

"Alright, fine. I'm doing this because I love you."

You heard you squeal, "It's going to be so fun, I promise. Pick me up at 7!" She exclaimed before hanging up.

You got all dressed up for this party and picked Loona up. She was happy of course, which in return made you happy for her but you're still a nervous train wreck.

You pulled up to Beezlebub's mansion and slammed on the breaks.

"Jesus, Y/n!"

"Loona, there's so many people here."

"So? Just stay by me. I already know most of them." She placed her hand on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

You sighed dramatically and parked the car, the two of you getting out. She grabbed your hand and lead you the way to this house. As you were walking past all of these hellhounds your heart raced. Loona noticed this and she squeezed your hand, mentally telling you that she's here.

"How about I get us drinks? Maybe that'll loosen you up."

"Eh, I don't know. What if I make a fool of myself?"

"Nothing will compare you to Blitz. Trust me on this one."

You finally agreed to her request and she got you a cup of beezlejuice. One drink turned into two, then three, then four. The alcohol completely got rid of your nerves and your social anxiety.

Loona tried cutting you off but you refused.

"Come on, Y/n! You're drunk." She smiled, but still wanting you to be careful.

"Sooo? I feel great! And I loveee my girlfriend." You pulled her into a hug but since then world was spinning you trembled a bit.

"Let's get you some water." She laughed, still hugging you.

You pulled away and frowned, "Nooo. I no no wanna."

"Christ on a stick." Loona mumbled, "You're gonna have a horrible hangover."

You yet again didn’t listen to her and started break dancing (she did not know you could do that and was VERY shocked you could).

You started to unbutton your shirt as you swayed left and right to the music.

“Keep your shirt on!” She whispered with force, grasping your hands.

You laughed, “Whyyy. You get flustered when I dooo.” You teased.

“Because we’re in public!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” You put your hands up in defense.

"Loona! Hey girl." Beezlebub interrupted. "Who's this?"

"My very drunk boyfriend."

"Wassup." You giggled, "I'm Y/n."

"Queen Bee. You having fun?"

"Mm, very." You swung your arm around Loona's shoulders, almost knocking her down.

"I can see that. Did you give him water?" She asked Loona.

"He won't take it. But I'm about to take him home and force him to chug it."

"Good idea. It was nice to meet you!" Beezlebub shook your hand.

"Do I have to shake all four?" You hiccuped.

"Ha, only if you want to!"

Loona shook her head out of embarrassment as you proceeded to shake all four of Beezlebub's hands.

"I like you! You should come party more often." Bee offered.

"Yes!"

"No! Babe I love you but I'm cutting you off for sure next time."

You didn't say anything, just kept on smiling and giggling.

Loona dragged you out of the party and drove you back to the house.

Since you couldn't walk properly she put your arm over her shoulder and guided you to your bed. She left for a bit to get you water as you whined for her to come back.

"Loooonaa!"

"I'm coming right back!" She groaned.

Your eyes lit up once you saw her again. She handed you a glass of water and forced you to drink it.

"I need you to go to sleep, please?"

"Can we cuddle?" You whined.

"I was planning on it." She said, taking off her dress and slip on some pajamas. She didn't even bother to take your clothes off.

You pulled Loona closer to you after she got underneath the covers.

"Babe, maybe you should face the other way so you don't throw up on me." She laughed.

"Mmno." You held her.

"Please." She groaned.

You grumbled and turned the other way with her being the big spoon.

"Have you ever gotten an hangover?" She asked.

"mmmno."

"Pfft, you're about to."

The next morning your head throbbed as your stomach was churning. Loona was still asleep holding you but woken up after you sat up quickly to throw up.

"Yep...knew it."

"Fuck..Loona. I don't feel good." You rubbed your temples.

“Told youuu.” She singsonged. “Need some water and pain meds?”

“Yes please.”

Loona went and fetched the water and pain killers and handed them to you. She sat down beside of you on the bed. “You’re a mess you know that?”

You chuckled, “I know. But hey, the party was fun, right?”

“You asked to shake all of Beezlebub’s hands.” She deadpanned.

“Oh shit…did I?”

“Yep.”

“Did I embarrass you?”

“Only a little, but I love you so it doesn’t bother me.”

“Did I do anything else?”

“After you shook her hands you sang opera. Which by the way, how?” She laughed.

“Oh shit I did? Was I good?” You joked.

“Sadly, yes you were. Oh yeah you also break danced.”

“Damn, didn’t know I had all of this talent when I’m drunk.”

“Yeah. You probably didn’t remember this but you kept grinding on me and I had to pull you off.”

“Ugh. No more, I don’t wanna know.”

She rubbed your back, “Yeah, you probably don’t.”

“I’m gonna frew up again.”

“Not on your carpet, go to the toilet!”

[satureja13]

Even though Jack had such an amazing day with Lou, he couldn't wait to log out and tell the others that the second painful spot is gone! Since their therapies go so well, they don't monitor each session all together anymore. One of them is supposed to be near the one who's currently ingame, so they installed an opening in the kitchen to the therapy room.

Jack immediately took off the VR glasses and the robo arm and his shirt to show Ji Ho his progress ^^' Ji Ho: "Oh Jack, that's amazing!" Jack: "All thanks to our incredible Tiny Can! Let's show the others! Ah I'm so glad I didn't give up and went back ingame!" Ji Ho: "I'm so happy for you." Jack: "I love you too :3 "

Meanwhile Saiwa is working hard to overcome his 'bird/fake relationship/Kiyoshi/Jeb problems... He went all in in his exposure therapy and even placed flamingo lounge chairs so he can practice here too... But he's having a hard time going through all these memories again. And Vlad wasn't very helpful. He's still worrying what Caleb might do with Ji Ho in Ji Ho's therapy. Saiwa sighed: "Don't give Ji Ho a hard time, hm? Try a little harder to make him feel good so he won't fall even more for Caleb. It will soon be over and then he's yours alone. Hang on." Sai already told him this a few times before. But he also knows how hard it is to change and accept things one couldn't change.

Luckily Jack came running along with Ji Ho to disturb their gloomy thoughts with his never failing puppy energy ^^' Saiwa heard their footsteps and was alarmed. He always expects the worst when Jack is involved ö.Ö' Saiwa: "Omg - did something go wrong?" Jack: "VLAD! SAI! The second spot is already gone! Only ONE left!"

Saiwa, relieved: "That's unbelievable! I never imagined it would ever get better without you getting back together with Kiyoshi! I mean, he's your fated mate. How is it possible you can leave him just like that?" Jack: "Hey, I endured over 6 months of searing pain! Fate learned now that I'm determined! Plus I'm the Su..." The others chimed in: "Super Soldier!" (hahaha, them ^^')

They are so happy for Jack :3 There is a new area to sit outside by the river and they gathered by the fire. Jack told them about his insightful talk with Lou which also inspired the others to try to find ways to improve their relationships. And, since the Therapy Game is going so well for them, they also discussed how they could make it acessable for the creatures in the real world, as planned. They currently can't be of any help for other creatures in the Muggle World who suffer under the Council and from other hazards. The least they can do is to offer them the Therapy Game. Vlad only listens half-heartedly.

Jack tries to convince Saiwa to let him go back in his therapy before the others but Saiwa insists that they take turns. Ji Ho's therapy is important too. To finally find his buried feelings and to get this over with Caleb to prevent Vlad from going insane... Which is nearer than one might think because suddenly he jumped up in and threw a jealousy tantrum...

Jack: "We should leave them alone."

Ji Ho: "We'll talk about the game later." Only Ji Ho can fix him.

Jack: "Come on, Sai. Let them charge the Bond. We'll go and play Simbles." Sai looked questioning at Ji Ho and he nodded.

Doesn't mean it isn't still awkward as hell when they're alone...

Ji Ho eventually made the first move and carefully approached Vlad - and Vlad hissed! But Ji Ho learned not to be offended. The Bond already told him how much Vlad craves Ji Ho's touch. He just can't let his foolish pride and priciples go...

The Little Goats Satyrs have a new friend as it seems! Little Dust Bunny joined them and they are briefing him on the story hahaha

Until Little Goat heard some highly anticipated and telling noises... He sneaked around the corner to take a look.

Little Goat: 'Boys! Come over! They're doing it!!!' Little Dust Bunny: 'Whoa!' The Little Goats delivered on their promises ^^'

'Reach out, touch faith

Your own personal Jesus, someone to hear your prayers Someone who cares Your own personal Jesus, someone to hear your prayers Someone who's there'

Personal Jesus - Depeche Mode

Ji Ho hesitantly reached out for Vlad and he looks a bit worried because he knows how much Vlad tries to avoid getting overly physical as long as Ji Ho isn't able to love him... And Ji Ho still can't get used to Vlad's hairless chest ^^'

Ji Ho: "I'm yours alone. I only want you." That's what the Bond is telling Vlad too but it's still killing him that Ji Ho is going to marry Caleb ingame. Ji Ho will make him forget it. At least for a while. Little Goats and Little Dust Bunny: 'Aouwww!'

Poor Jack and Saiwa. Let's hope they'll find love again soon too.

(I took a lot of pics of Vlad and Ji Ho in the hot tub. I'll make a little extra post like last time ^^')

Addendum: After I posted 'A Rainy Night in Soho' in the last episode, I googled around a bit for Nick Cave and this song and I found out that he and Shane had been good friends. And that Nick sang 'A Rainy Night in Soho' at Shane's funeral. I didn't cry when I heard that Shane died, but when I watched the video, I did. (I still do as I write this. Thank you for the music, Shane.)

'Now the song is nearly over We may never find out what it means Still there's a light I hold before me You're the measure of my dreams The measure of my dreams'

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[3rdeyeblaque]

On August 1st we venerate Ancestor Henrietta Lacks on her 103rd birthday 🎉

Sister Henrietta is known throughout the world as, "The Mother Of Modern Medicine", being the biological source of the HeLa cells - 1st immortalized human cell line, which has been central to cancer research studies & methods. Billions of her cells are presently used in biomedical research development around the world, notably in the manufacturing of COVID-19 vaccines, mapping the human genome, HIV/AIDS & cancer treatments, testing human cells against zero gravity in space, other vaccine research, & undoubtedly much more.

Today, however, venerate the woman behind the medical atrocities that it took to achieve such a feight.

Born Roanoke, VA, a young Henrietta grew up working on a tobacco farm with her father, her 9 siblings, & extended relatives on their land in Clover, VA - where their ancestors had worked as slaves. She'd lost her to complications of child birth when she was just 4yrs old. Due to his lack of patience, her father divided his children to be raised among different relatives accordingly. Henrietta was to be raised by her grandfather, who had already taken in her First-Cousin, David "Day" Lacks - who she later married. Henrietta continued her schooling until the 6th grade. On a hopeful prayer, they left Clover, VA for Turner Station, MD to escape the impoverished life that came with tobacco farming. There, they settled down to start their family.

While pregnant with her 5th child, Henrietta discovered a painful knot inside her that persisted through atypical bleeding post-childbirth, among other symptoms. Finally, she sought medical treatment. Prior to this, she & her family would lay flowers at the local Jesus statue, recite prayers & rub his feet for good luck. Henrietta kept her diagnosis to herself so as to not worry her family; she was determined to overcome her medical condition on her own.

While receiving treatment at a segregated ward in John Hopkins University, doctors took a tissue sample of her tumor for medical research without her knowledge or consent. This was an everyday practice at most medical institutions of the time. Unfortunately, Sister Henrietta did not survive her treatment. She was later buried at the Lacks Family Cemetery in Clover, Va.

Following her death, the medical research scientists from John Hopkins University coerced her husband to consenting to have an autopsy conducted on her remains; they claimed doing so would provide beneficial health information to his children. This allowed them to lawfully collect tissue samples from all of Henrietta 's organs. As of 2020, the cells from these tissue samples that were collected on that day & prior are THE most widely used in biomedical research labs around the world.

For all her pain, suffering, & desecration (of which the latter continues presently), may Sister Henrietta be forever elevated in peace, healing, & light in the spiritual as her physical essence has become immortalized in the physical.

We pour libations💧& give her 💐 today as we celebrate her for her love of family, community, & faith.

Offering suggestions: prayers toward her elevation, libations of water, catholic prayers, & a Catholic Bible.

‼️Note: offering suggestions are just that & strictly for veneration purposes only. Never attempt to conjure up any spirit or entity without proper divination/Mediumship counsel.‼️