#chaos power couple energy right here

[scribbledquillz]

K but The Phoenix by Fall Out Boy is an excellent Karlach/Astarion song I mean:

Hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out? I'm gonna change you like a remix Then I'll raise you like a phoenix Wearing our vintage misery No, I think it looked a little better on me I'm gonna change you like a remix Then I'll raise you like a phoenix Bring home the boys and scrap scrap metal the tanks Get hitched, make a career out of robbing banks Because the world is just a teller and we are wearing black masks "You broke our spirit, " says the note we pass So we can take the world back from a heart attack One maniac at a time we will take it back You know time crawls on when you're waiting for the song to start So dance alone to the beat of your heart

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 9)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9

Part 9:

Just as you exited the door to your now former apartment, you heard the sound of an explosion.

You just sigh at the sound, it doesn't phase you as much as it used to. Always startling enough to make you slightly jump, but you knew it was the start of the turf war one of your acquaintances told you about ahead of time.

It was a favor they owed you after you saved them from being killed by the Overlord boss they work for, which happened to be the one you were being commissioned by back then.

To take advantage of their insider info/tip, you decided it was needed to pick up the pace so you could get out of there in one piece- so their risk of getting that info to you wouldn't be in vain.

The pace at which the explosions happened quickly increased, along with the sounds of bullets and glass breaking that joined the chorus of chaos.

"Shit, shit, shit shit!" you quietly cursed to yourself as you quickly exited the building however you could, because you could feel the foundation and walls starting to give way.

So naturally, the easier and quickest way out was through a window in the stairwell. Unfortunately, you were up quite a few flights and though you tried your best to roll and fall safely, you still landed on the ground with an unceremonious thump.

The shattered glass underneath you from the window gave you a lot of ugly cuts. Not to mention you could already feel many bruises forming all over your body, maybe you broke a rib or two, you couldn't tell. It's been a while since you've had to make such a messy escape- that was probably a couple decades and rings ago.

Pulling yourself up from the ground, you wince through the pain and make a quick dash to grab your briefcase of supplies that went flying during the fall.

You couldn't really hear too well right now because of all of the warfare going on, everything sounded so muffled, so you couldn't tell what direction the danger was. But you knew you had to run, or else you would get into even deeper shit.

You were a woman on a mission, so you ran as fast as your legs could carry you, ducking, dodging, weaving, sneaking, and even having to get rid of a few goons yourself along the way to where you'd be able to enter the Pride ring.

It was quiet here, the sounds of warfare and screams of the damned were muffled from all the way out here at the edge of this ring of Hell. And it wasn't muffled because of your hearing, your hearing went back to normal after spending a few minutes in some quiet corner to regroup yourself after the hellish way here.

It was here, you decided, that you'd make your way into the Pride ring using your special power.

Your real power wasn't to make enchanting paintings or portraits, that was just skill you've honed after many years of life (and death).

But this...it made you nervous, even though the power was truly your's, you were nervous because you felt like you'd get caught breaking the laws of how Hell is supposed to function- like fundamentally. Sinners like you weren't supposed to be able to travel freely through Hell, but for some reason, you could with this power.

You took some supplies out of your briefcase, and drew a complex crest-like symbol on the ground in front of you.

Ever since you landed in Hell, this symbol felt like it was etched into the back of your eyelids. You always felt like it defined you, the essence of you, and that held power- the type and magnitude you still weren't totally sure of. You never had any close connection you trusted enough to teach or help guide you through any of this...

With a deep sigh, being careful not to agitate any broken ribs or bones, you knelt down in front of the symbol, placed both hands on the symbol of the ground, and closed your eyes.

You focused your energy into your hands, feeling power surge through you until your felt your hands disappear into the ground- your body following right after.

The one downside to this power, spell, ability- whatever you want to call it- was that you couldn't really control where you landed.

After much trial and error, you've honed it to the point where you could go from one ring to the other, but you couldn't really pick where you got dropped in the specific ring you wanted to go to.

Not to mention it drained so much of your energy, it made you so extremely weak to the point that almost any weakling that came across you could nudge you with their foot and you'd be near double death already.

All that said, you wanted to avoid using this power at all costs unless it was an emergency. So unfortunately your search for your love Alastor was hindered greatly by this caveat- you had to stay "alive" if you wanted to be reunited.

Too many attempts before you mastered this power would likely end in your (permanent?) death if you were found that weak and vulnerable so many times by who knows what type of demented soul that would witness your sorry state after you used the power.

And once more today did you fall to the ground with a thump, though a very small distance this time that was fortunately cushion.. by... garbage in a dumpster...

"This falling shit is getting really old..." You thought to yourself.

"Ugh shit..." You slowly roll out of the dumpster, your briefcase appearing by your side with a tiny *poof*.

As you lean against an alleyway wall, it hits you like a truck- the price you pay for defying the laws of Hell. The previous injuries from escaping the turf war made this time hit so much worse than any other previous time.

You accidentally stumble forward from the wave of pain that slammed you suddenly, vision blurring, energy fading fast enough to the point where you're just about to pass out at any given moment. But you try to hang in there as you attempt to refocus your vision.

Your stumbling around likely looked like you were a drunkard making an idiot of themselves after a bar fight.

As you kept accidentally bumping into random strangers that you could hardly see due to your blurry vision, you kept getting shoved around by people thinking you were being a public nuisance- and that says a lot, given you're in Hell and all.

All the shoving and little jabs from random strangers hurt so fucking much, that your body gave out, you couldn't keep it together any longer.

You couldn't get yourself together this time.

Your vision turned sideways as you fell to the ground, except you didn't hit the hard and unforgiving concrete.

You felt a pair of arms catch you. All you could see was a girl's face talking at you, but you couldn't hear a goddamned thing. Hell, you could hardly see her even though she was right up in your face.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay? Do you need help? Oh my god, Vaggie, we need to help them!"

"Charlie, are you sure about this? They could be dangerous! You don't even KNOW them!"

Then everything went black.

"But I can't leave them to die here, we need to bring them back to the hotel!"

"Ugh, alright, fine! But if they pose a danger to you or anyone else in the hotel, they are OUT."

-> Part 10

[thesirenisles]

Luxor🎡

random astrology notes

I hope you guys enjoy! I will be doing custom, in-depth readings soon, however these notes are drawn from personal observation. Do not steal, rewrite, or copy any of my original writing. All rights reserved. © 2024 The Siren Isles Photos are of me or from pinterest. If it does not apply, let it fly. support here.

🎡 Mars in the 12th is such an interesting placement. When I found out I had this placement in sidereal (I generally prefer tropical) my dreams made so much sense. I literally dream in the Universe of a John Wick, sometimes Apocalyptic action movie! LOL Besides that, this is a late bloomer indicator. Mars natural fiery nature is hindered in the watery abyss of darkness or Chaos that is the 12th house. It’s like fighting in the dark. The assertion and ferocity of the native can be snipped when young. They’ll have a hard time showing their anger or competitiveness. In result, this also makes others project (12th house) negative traits like aggression (Mars) onto you! Your moves are hidden from the eye and some haters can’t stand that. You’re easily made the villain. But, through the pursuit of spiritual enlightenment and sometimes a very messy cathartic release… a spiritual warrior is reborn!

Uranus aspects can be defined by their celestial counterpart:

sun - uranus: You need to be seen (like the sun) making a difference. where can you be a beacon or example of radical change?

mercury - uranus: What high level thoughts are you thinking but not saying (Mercury) that could create drastic transformation?

jupiter - uranus Where can you be a generous benefactor to create change or spiritual teacher (Jupiter) of transformational knowledge.. or just new ideas?

🎡 SYNASTRY SOULMATE indicator: Vertex conjunct IC ( Imum Coeli) As a leo moon and pisces venus who just LOVES true LOVE. This is such an incredibly powerful love placement that I can personally attest to!! 🥰 The Vertex is referred to as the fated point or destiny point. Imum Coeli (IC) translates to “bottom of the sky”. It’s indicative of one’s roots and basic needs for emotional security. Having Vertex conjunct someone’s IC is a type of love that stops you in your tracks. Your breath is taken. You know them from a past life, are instantly comfortable with them, and they feel like home. I’ve read this is popular within married couples, but I also read that it’s rare. I’d love to know if anyone has experienced this. The power of this connection is marked with profoundly deep transformation for both parties, emotional wound healing, and a shared destiny. Things can get tricky if you weren’t ready for this fated meeting because the IC person may not want to leave this person’s side.

🎡 Saturn-Ascendant is so freaking stressful, my goodness. Moment of silence for these natives. (me included) Oh, the need to be great but the fear of failing! Oh, the obstacles! Oh, the need to critique to perfection. Oh, the need to present with full control. The self imposed fun-police. Oh, when does it get easy?? IT WILL.🤞🏾In the meantime, just smize 😗 for the Gods with that heavenly bone structure!

🎡 Gemini placements live such interesting lives! They are the magicians tarot card come to life. (literally, it’s associated with Mercury) The men are the types to successfully convince multiple women to be in a polyamorous relationship. I have seen it! My Gemini guy friend had like 3 girlfriends. But, he somehow made time for all of them and they were content! The Aquarius in me was baffled! LOL. These magic men seem to have a powerful charm over the Venus ruled signs, which checks out due to Thoth(Gemini) and Ma’at (Libra) being married in Ancient Kemetic mythology. But, also Pisces!! I knew a pair with these signs and they were like besties turned lovers, but only on the Gemini’s terms.😐Mercurian energy can be so fleeting, but so powerful when in close proximity. They will stay only if they want (or need lol don’t get used). If you want to know if a Gemini placement is serious about you…. words of intention mean little to nothing for an air sign, watch those actions!

🎡 Pluto Sextile Uranus natal placement is such a powerful fandom/ fame indicator in this lifetime. It literally just makes sense for this Uranus in Aquarius generation (roughly 1996-2003) of “Influencers”. Uranus in Aquarius (collective) + Pluto in Aquarius (obsession & power) = the crazy ass fandoms that follow the lives of these natives: Zendaya, Jeon Jung-kook, Billie Eilish, Park Ji-min, Bella Hadid, Jenner sisters, & the list goes on! Pluto will be in Aquarius until 2043! So, if you were born in these years and have a Uranus Pluto aspect, I advise you to find your niche & get a fandom lol Most have Pluto in Sagittarius, so it could be teaching something or selling a skill (like youtube or online courses).

🎡 Mars in Taurus or at Taurus degrees (2, 14, etc.) natives tend to have such a beautiful physique. Like, Mars refines itself when in contact with Venus. The mix ends up being so addictive to others & if you have this.. you know what I mean! Tender lover. Women with this placement are graceful and sensual by nature, often with a womanly shape. Men with this placement can have “Godly” beautiful physical qualities like broad shoulders and chiseled back dimples. Very beautiful indeed. I feel Capricorn also refines Mars in a very structured way.

🎡 Venus placements (Taurus & Libra) in a man’s chart tend to make them a bit bougie! Lol Venus rules self worth, aesthetics etc. and they may feel like a woman should have certain qualities, dress a certain way, and fulfill certain duties! Blessed with looks or charm (Libra especially), they can become quite content and spoiled by the women in their lives. Let’s not forget Taurus is the moon exalted placement! Mama’s boy, anyone?

🎡 Aries placements parents are NOT for the weak! Especially if you have an outer planets sun (Scorpio to Pisces) or gentler placements that want to be coddled (Pisces, Leo, Cancer). The energy just clashes. This is because the Aries is the youngest soul in nature. They’re here for a good time! The child can often feel like the parent or the more mature party. On the other hand, the child can feel like an after thought or accessory! Aries may be be concerned with their own stuff and may only check on “the image” of the child, but not the emotional well being. The child can become an extension of their reputation. Can also be domineering & overly bossy, making the child retreat inwards. The child can see their parent as a celebrity or dictator almost until they reach a certain age and see the deeper issues… Fire signs are worried about shining!

🎡 Venus in Leo are often stunning with feline eyes and have so much stage presence. They take good care of themselves and great pride in their hair, usually. If there is Virgo on the chart to add perfection and attention to aesthetics… this could be a superstar presence! The type of people who may be chill from day to day, but when they dress… they DRESS!

🎡 Moon in the 3rd house wants to talk it out!! They are going to discuss, baby. These are the types who may spill the beans out of emotion, say one thing but feel another.. similar to Moon-Mercury aspect energy. But, the relationship with the mother can be good with open communication.

🎡 Scorpio in Big 3 women give me Maxine Shaw vibes (from Living Single, hit 90’s show) every single time. Like, they were warriors in their past life. So bold and powerful with an unshakable inner strength. A lesser talked about quality that I have noticed is such powerful dreams as well! There can be astral projection, lucid dreaming, that manifest as challenges of literally facing your fears in your dreams! Spiritual warrior and BDE💁🏾‍♀️

🎡 Sagittarius in big 3 women are similar to me. If you really like someone, the issue will be pushed. If you really dislike someone, the issue will be pushed! I love that energy! & I am biased as a Sag rising. This reminds me of the boisterous Auntie with jokes, wisdom, and powerful energy that fills a room. With Jupiter as their ruler, they can be the masculine energy in their relationships, naturally. They move with freedom in mind when young.

🎡 Leo placements have the super power of bringing warmth to whatever space they inhabit. Suns are shining everywhere they go! Mercury brings grandeur to their conversations and intellectual pursuits. Venus is the light of their lovers life and nothing less! Jupiter is like the Sun double with this energy lol. Giant presence! Depending on the placement, they may or may not notice impact of their presence. However, it's so cold when that sunshine is gone. Everyone can tell when these natives are feeling cloudy because their light is usually felt on the skin of those around them. Such beautiful golden energy!

hiss watch🧿 𓆙

a few placements that can attract sssnakes

𓆙 Neptune in 11th House Be aware of the amount of love you give before you accept someone into your space. Your energy is magnetic, whimsical, and healing! You believe in humanity. This makes you an amazing friend but you can constantly want to see the “good” in people. At its worst, you could be the head cheerleader for your biggest enemy! Don’t be the wind beneath any wings that are uncomfortable when it’s your turn to fly! NO excuses.

𓆙 Pluto in 11th House Transformation, obsession, jealousy, and friendship walk into a bar… No one’s having a good time! Back-stabbing. Envious lies. Stealing your belongings. (Neptune in big 6 can make this even more painful because you may not even notice the disrespect!!) Be aware. 🧿 Not only of others but of yourself. Power struggles. Any negative thoughts or actions must be checked because you will get that energy right back!! That is the only way to reverse this curse. Energy is fluid.

𓆙 Venus- Neptune Harsh aspects can have people trying to debunk their beauty or hurt their value (Venus). “Is that your real hair?” “Are those your natural lashes?” 🙄 The people are watching! At a point in life, you may be completely lost on what you deserve, what love is, and your own self value. Others see it, but you can have an illusory gaze in the mirror.

𓆙 Honorable mention: Sun-Neptune, Neptune in 1st, 3rd, 7th house, Pluto in 7th house, 2nd house, 12th house, Pluto aspect to personal planets. Jupiter in relationship or social houses (2, 3, 7, 10) because people can see your lucky moments!

Thank you for reading!

Check out my page for more in-depth astro posts!

@thesirenisles | masterlist | support

[lev1hei1chou]

Physics Class

Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo teaches physics to his child, and it doesn't go the way they want it to. Masterlist

It was a typical evening in the Gojo household, or so it seemed. Satoru Gojo was seated at the dining table with his teenage child and a pile of physics textbooks. His usual demeanor was replaced with a look of sheer desperation as he attempted to explain the intricacies of quantum mechanics.

"Okay, so imagine this," Gojo began, summoning his Infinity to illustrate his point. "You have a particle, and it can be in multiple places at once..."

Haru, stared blankly at his father, eyes glazed over with confusion. "But Dad, I still don't get it. How can something be in two places at the same time?"

Gojo rubbed his temples, mentally cursing the day he decided to take on the role of tutor. "Well, you see, it's like... umm... Hollow Purple!" With a flourish of his hand, he conjured the swirling vortex of energy, hoping it would somehow make the concept clearer.

Haru's expression didn't change. "It just looks like purple fog to me, Dad."

Gojo sighed dramatically. "This is harder than fighting curses," he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, a light bulb seemed to go off in Gojo's head. "I know! Let's try a practical demonstration." Within seconds, he summoned a small rubber ball and a series of miniature black holes using his powers.

Haru's eyes widened in alarm. "Dad, are you sure this is safe?"

But before he could protest further, Gojo released the ball into the gravitational field of the black holes. Chaos ensued as the ball disappeared and reappeared in seemingly random locations.

"Dad, I think you just broke the laws of physics," Haru exclaimed, a mix of awe and terror in his voice.

Gojo chuckled nervously. "Well, umm... let's just say it's a... creative interpretation."

Despite the chaotic lesson, Haru couldn't help but smile at their father's antics. "Thanks, Dad. I still don't understand quantum mechanics, but at least I had fun trying."

Gojo grinned proudly, tousling his hair affectionately. "That's my kid. Now, let's tackle the next chapter: Kinetic Energy!"

As Gojo delved deeper into the world of teaching normal subjects, he realized that traditional methods simply weren't cutting it. So, he decided to incorporate his sorcery skills into the curriculum, much to the dismay of his teenager.

Satoru decided to demonstrate the concept of kinetic energy using his Infinity. He summoned a couple of marbles and set them rolling on the table, intending to show how their speed affected their energy.

"See, Haru, the faster the marble moves, the more energy it has," Gojo explained, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

His son nodded along, trying to follow his father's logic. But when Gojo decided to ramp up the demonstration by using his powers to increase the speed of the marbles to near-supersonic levels, chaos ensued.

The marbles careened off the table, ricocheting around the room like tiny bullets. Furniture was overturned, vases shattered, and Gojo found himself ducking for cover behind the sofa.

"Dad, I think we should stick to the textbook," Haru yelled over the chaos, dodging a marble that whizzed past his head.

Gojo emerged from his hiding spot, looking sheepish. "Right, maybe that was a bit much."

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Gojo household. The door swung open, and you walked in. You were greeted not by the usual calm ambiance of home, but by a scene of utter chaos.

"Baby, what on earth happened here?" you exclaimed, taking in the overturned furniture, cracked decorations and the faint scent of burnt rubber lingering in the air.

Your husband looked up from his haphazard pile of textbooks, relief washing over his exhausted features at the sight of his wife. "Oh, thank goodness you're here. We've had a bit of a... situation."

Your son sat at the table with tears glistening in his eyes, surrounded by scattered papers and half-hearted attempts at calculations. He looked up at his mother with a mixture of frustration and defeat.

"Mom, I just don't understand any of this. We tried so much and nothing worked," he confessed, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your heart broke at the sight of your son's distress. You crossed the room in a few quick strides, wrapping him in a comforting hug. "It's okay, sweetheart. We'll figure this out together."

Turning to Gojo, you found her husband in a state of near-panic, his usual smirk replaced by a look of sheer desperation. "Love, what's going on? Why is everything in shambles?"

Gojo ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his frustration palpable. "I've been trying to help Haru study for his physics exam, but nothing seems to be sinking in. I've tried every trick in the book, and then some my personal tricks. It didn't do much though."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of your usually unflappable husband on the brink of a meltdown. "Well, why don't we take a break, and then try some different approach?."

[allybxtch]

The last sacrifice

bakugo x reader (angst)

the final battle between heroes and villains roared as an infernal storm. the air was loaded with dust, ashes and the acre smell of destruction. screams, explosions and the rumble of the powers facing themselves in a deafening chaos. Y/N, with his elementary manipulation quirk, was in the heart of this cataclysm, fighting side by side with his teammates to defeat Shigaraki and his sinister amalgam with All For One, now known as Shigarafo.

things had twisted in a way that not even the most experienced heroes had planned. Shigarafo seemed unstoppable, each attack absorbed and redirected with brutal efficiency. the heroes fell after another, and despair began to leak into the ranks.

Y/N, covered with dust and sweat, was looking for Katsuki Bakugo with her eyes. she knew that he was there, somewhere, giving everything of himself as always. she recalled the moments they had shared, their fights, their laughs, and that deep link that had united them as a couple and, although they were no longer together, love persisted.

suddenly, she saw he. Bakugo was throwing directly against Shigarafo, with a fierce determination and a desperate glow in his eyes. Y/N felt a knot in the stomach. Something was not right.

"Katsuki, no!" she shouted, her voice barely audible about the rumble of the battle. she threw herself towards him, using the air to boost and gain speed, but the debris and the flying attacks delayed her.

Bakugo was face to face with Shigarafo, his explosions resonated with almost deafening force. Y/N watched the scene on slow camera, every second stretching in eternity. Katsuki, in his typical challenging style, refused to go back.

—I’m going to kill you here and now!— Bakugo, his palms lit in a blinding shine.

—Pathetic— Shigarafo replied, his cold eyes and devoid of compassion.

Y/N arrived just in time to see how Shigarafo extended his hand to Bakugo. the explosion was deafening, but it wasn't Bakugo. the hero fell to the ground, his inert body and his shattered heart.

—KATSUKI!— Y/N shout was heartbreaking, a mixture of horror, pain and fury. the vision of Bakugo collapsed, his blood staining the ground, plunged her into an uncontrollable rage.

she ran towards him, falling on her knees next to him. —Katsuki, please look at me...— she reached his face with trembling hands, his blood staining her. His eyes were open, but empty. Life had escaped from him. Y/N felt her heart break into a thousand pieces, the pain was unbearable. —No, no, no...— she murmured, trying to deny the reality she had in front of her.

the control she had always maintained over her powers was broken. the air around her began to vibrate with a chaotic energy while manipulating fire, water, earth and air simultaneously. the earth shuddered, the fire roared, the water swirled and the air became a furious gale.

—You're going to pay for this!— Y/N shouted, her voice trembling with the intensity of her anger and pain.

Shigarafo turned to her, a cruel smile deforming her lips. —Do you want to join him in death, girl? I thought the heroes were smarter—

Y/N launched a massive attack, combining all her elements in a devastating assault. Shigarafo dodged it easily, counterattacking with a brutality that Y/N could barely handle. but she didn't stop. every blow received, every wound inflicted, only increased its resolution.

the battle between them was a whirlwind of power and destruction, both fighting with desperate ferocity. but the simultaneous use of all its elements began to take its toll on Y/N. her body trembled, her forces faltered, but she couldn't stop. she couldn't fail now.

—I won't let you win!— she shouted, throwing everything she had against Shigarafo. Her heart beat with a mixture of fury and sadness, prompting her to continue despite the pain she felt in every fiber of her being.

in a moment of distraction, she saw Nejire in danger. without thinking about it, she threw herself to protect her, receiving the blow destined for her friend. the sharp pain in her belly made her fall to her knees. she looked down and saw Shigarafo's hand going through her, the blood gushing out and staining her suit.

—No...— she murmured, the pain and weakness overwhelming her.

Shigarafo pushed her back, her laughter resonating in her ears. —Pathetic, just like him—

Y/N fell to the ground, her vision clouding. everything around her seemed to fade, pain and despair dominating her senses. she remembered the moments with Bakugo, his arrogant smile, his laughter, his determination. everything they had shared, everything they could never have.

—Katsuki...— she whispered, her voice barely a breath. she felt her life fading, the cold taking over her.

in the distance, she saw her companions fighting, the battle continuing relentlessly. but her eyes were only looking for Bakugo, hoping that, somehow, he would get up, that all this was just a nightmare.

the memories of their time together flooded her mind. the shared nights, the promises, the fights and reconciliations. everything he had meant to her, and everything she had lost in an instant.

the world around her became blurred, the sounds fading into a distant murmur. Y/N closed her eyes, clinging to Bakugo's image, his smile, his love.

in her last moments, a tear rolled down her cheek, mixing with blood and dust. —Katsuki... I'm sorry...—

and so, in the midst of the final battle, Bakugo's sacrifice and Y/N’s despair became a reminder of the brutality of war and the price of heroism.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

hiii, this is my first time posting something I write. oh, also tell you that English isn’t my first language but i try my best

this is something about the last chapter of mha. you can tell me what you think, thank u (I’m sorry for the aesthetics, I don’t know much about that)

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝙸𝙸𝙸. 𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: trauma responses disguised as life skills, angst, fluff, pining, soft!Joel, protective!Joel, girldad!Joel, lots of flirting, inherent power imbalance due to boss/employee dynamic, financial/mental/emotional/physical abuse, mentions/depictions of childhood trauma, high functioning alcoholism | WORD COUNT: 9.7k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: All the progress you've made is jeopardized by a chance meeting. Joel begins to worry the nagging feeling he has about your home life might just have more truth to it than he knows.

Joel had a good feeling about you even before you started helping out Miller Contracting, but he’d never been so optimistic to think you’d be this quick on your feet with pivoting. He hesitated to call it embellishment or outright lying because it was never an ill-intentioned or malicious thing from what he’d seen. It was more along the lines of a finely tuned social skill, something that could be implemented to mitigate a client’s frustration or labile moods. It was a mastery of sorts that might be used by somebody to change the energy of a room or quell fits of chaos into a more orderly, civil atmosphere.

You’d surprised him with that line to Mr. Dillard about Jennifer having some mystery health concern that required a sudden departure. It was such a simple explanation – and not entirely false. Her mental health had taken quite a hit, and she’d made the decision to preserve what was left of it when she stepped away from the job. It was an understated but effective approach on your part, and possibly the best thing about it all was that it put the ball right back into the client’s court. They really only had two choices then: keep kicking up dust and silently admit you were an asshole or show a little empathy and save face.

Much to his delight and seemingly your relief, most clients chose the latter. After all, it didn’t require much mental capacity to understand that sometimes bad things often happen at the best times. It let Miller Contracting off the hook a little bit as to why there was a sudden hiccup in the daily operations. Even some of the more irascible clients had asked for general updates or news on if there’d be any improvements to Jennifer’s condition. Yet again you handled the conversation with devastating perfection by falling back on not going into much detail to “respect her medical privacy during this difficult time.”

Joel had picked up a few gems from you and used them himself. His go to’s were “it’s one day at a time” and “the prayers really keep her spirits up.” It addresses the situation without saying much of anything, and he gets to move on with his day swiftly.

He wonders where on earth you learned to be so quick on your feet with the perfect thing to say at the perfect time with the perfect delivery. He wonders what sort of life experiences you’ve had that gave you enough practice to hone such a skill. Maybe one day he’ll learn enough about you to fill in the blanks, but for now he’s just grateful you’re here to help him.

Your heart slams into your stomach when you round the corner to your street. Your dad’s car is parked in the driveway. He’s home early. You were going to get all the housework done with the couple of hours you had ahead of you before he got off work. His unannounced, premature arrival meant you had to think of something to tell him about why you were out somewhere on your day off instead at home tending to things. You park your bike and keep a steady pace to the door in case he’s looking through a window somewhere. If you acted out of sorts, he was going to wring you for every last detail. You slip inside the front door and gently close it. You flick the lock just as his voice breaks through the dead silence.

“Where were you?” The question comes out calm like a snowdrift creeping along the edge of an avalanche.

“Just around the neighborhood,” you reply plainly. You can’t sound too evasive, but you most definitely can’t sound too indifferent. He has to know you aren’t just carefree and lazy on your days off. You earn your keep around here and then some. You can’t give him a reason to think you’re not taking things seriously.

“Just around the neighborhood?” he parrots. “You have friends in the neighborhood?” The dubious slant in his tone is meant to be cutting, but the knowledge of that doesn’t stop it from being hurtful. You hear what he’s really saying: you don’t have friends in the neighborhood or anywhere else for that matter.

“Well, sort of. You’re home early. Is everything okay?” Maybe directing the conversation to him and his day will nimbly refocus the attention off of you, your whereabouts, your comings and goings . . . 

He sighs and stands from his irritated slump in the plush living room recliner. The nearly empty bottle of beer sways in his hand. “Denise got into a fender bender. Called me in fucking hysterics. You’d think the whole front end had come off her car.” He pauses to take a swig of beer and shake his head with a derisive tut. “Typical woman driver, though. At least you know it’s better to stick with the bike instead of terrorizing the road with your driving.”

You swallow past the words in your throat and ignore the flood of thoughts about why you actually have anxieties about driving. One too many times of getting into his car as a kid while your mom turned a blind eye or was just altogether out for the night. Your legs were barely long enough to reach the pedals from where you sat on his lap, and it was nerve-wracking to help him “keep the wheel steady” while he drove to get himself something else to drink because he’d run out. All those times he’d run into the store and tell you to sit tight and wait felt like centuries. Being alone with your thoughts meant your mind wandered into full blown paranoia, making you feel so sure you could hear sirens and that the police were going to catch you. 

The cadence of your inhales would outpace your exhales, and soon enough you were in tears trying to strain your ears to hear all the impending catastrophes coming your way. Your brain would race to formulate an explanation you could offer law enforcement so you wouldn’t get in trouble or your dad wouldn’t get arrested or they wouldn’t think a home visit was warranted. You were always so, so afraid that you and Calum would get separated, and then who would he have to protect him?

“You didn’t answer my question,” he points out in a deceptively collected tone. “Where were you?”

You freeze up. Oh god, you can’t freeze up. Not now. He’ll know something is different. He’ll know you’re lying. He’ll—

The steely grip of his fingers across your lower jaw anchors you in place for closer inspection. “You keeping something from me?” His nostrils flare at the mere idea of you having the gall to lie to him. You try to shake your head, but his hold tightens on you. “Don’t. Lie. To. Me,” he seethes.

You try to speak, but it’s garbled around the cage of his hand. He lets up just enough for you to form words. “I-I didn’t want to get your hopes up yet until I–until I knew I had gotten the job,” you plead.

His eyes narrow with interest. “What job?” he demands.

“It’s–It’s a customer at the store. Their secretary quit, and I’ve been helping. I’m trying to get the full time maybe, but I didn’t—”

He covers your mouth with his hand. It reeks of beer. “You quit your job at the grocery store?”

You shake your head, and he drops his hand. “No! No, of course not!”

“Well how THE FUCK am I supposed to know what bullshit you’re getting up to when you’re running around hiding it from me?” he bellows. You flinch when he raises his voice and his arms to the side in a gesture of righteous anger.

Tears start to pool at the corners of your vision. “I wanted to surprise you when I got good news. I wanted to try to get this job, but I didn’t want to get anybody’s hopes up yet!”

He stares at you with empty, cold eyes. “So, what? You’re doing secretary stuff? How much are you making?”

Of course that’s his first concern: how much more money could you be feeding into the joint account? You lie and tell him it’s a dollar less than the grocery store. Before he can lash out too much, you emphasize the long term growth an opportunity like this could offer. There’s more room to go up, and the experience is something that could translate to a lot more stable, higher paying jobs. His brain isn’t wet enough with alcohol to keep him from considering the validity of your statement.

“I want to see your pay stubs.”

“I-I don’t have it set up yet. I’m not in their system yet. I don’t technically have the job yet.”

His eyes thin into scrutinizing slits. “Fine. Write down your hours so I can compare it to your pay. The last thing we need is you getting swindled because you’re too fucking stupid to keep track of your finances.”

“Okay,” you choke.

He juts a finger out and pokes your shoulder with it. “Next time you want to make a big choice like that, you come to me first for permission.” He leans in closer to tower over you. You drop your gaze to the floor. “Do you understand?” Each word is accentuated with a stabbing finger to your shoulder.

“Yes, sir,” you utter. “I’m sorry.”

“Now quit your crying and get the hell outta my face,” he snaps.

Without a word you turn on your heel and rush to your bedroom. You fumble with your door, hands trembling so hard you feel like they’re not even a part of you. You still and listen to your dad go into the garage for another beer.

“Oh, I got somethin’ for ya,” Joel announces as he stands and starts rooting through a desk drawer. His home office is a mess as he’s transitioning everything back into the actual office now that things are back on track for the most part. “Forgot to charge it, but Jenn finally returned her work phone. Figured you might have some use for it since you’ve sorta taken over her duties.” He hands you the nicest phone you’ve ever held in your possession. You look up at him, thinking of how you should turn it down because you couldn’t possibly accept such a nice thing, could you? You don’t even have Jennifer’s old job, so what would make you entitled to Jennifer's old phone?

“I–Are you sure, Joel?”

“Yeah, of course. It just makes your life easier, really. You can forward calls from the office to it if you need to. You know, like if you’re working from home or somethin’ one day. And then if I’m texting you I’m not usin’ up all your personal data plan, you know? Work related things means the company should cover it.”

He explains it simply enough, but you still feel uncertain about him entrusting you with it.

“I mean, I know it ain’t the newest on the block, but–”

“What? Are you serious? This phone is amazing.” You barely hold back a laugh as you pluck your dingy old flip phone from your bag. “Literally, this thing is, like, a million times nicer than this thing.”

“What’d you lose a bet or something?” Joel snorts as he takes your phone and turns it in his hand. You are distracted for just long enough by the difference of how small the phone looks in his hand compared to when you hold it that Joel clears his throat. “I, uh, I didn’t— it’s a fine phone, is what I meant. Perfectly functional.”

Oh. He thinks he said something to make you feel bad. “It’s a piece of shit, I know.” Your lopsided smile and shrug probably aren’t enough to entirely convince him that you aren’t embarrassed about your ancient phone, but it would have to do. There’s no way you’re explaining to him that it’s all you’re allowed and that your dad won’t let you get anything nicer because it would “just be a waste of time and money.”

“Well, it’s…. Yeah, it’s a piece of shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean to be so rude about it.”

“Not rude. Just stating the obvious.”

“Well, still.”

“Besides, it’s nice of you to let me use this phone anyway seeing as I don’t even have the job to justify it. Doing some real charity work there, boss man.” Your cheeks plump up in a self-deprecating smile.

“Yeah, about that….” Joel clears his throat again, but this time it’s a more hopeful sound. “What if you did have the job?”

“Ppffftttt yeah. Real funny.”

“No, I’m bein’ serious. Would you– Are you interested in it? You’ve taken to it like crazy, and you’re already gettin’ things closer to how they were. I mean, I know it’d mean stepping away from the grocery store, but—”

“You can’t be serious.” You sit there, staring at him like he’s grown a third ear on his chin.

“Well, I know it’s a bit of a leap, but I mean… I don’t wanna pressure you, and if you need time to think–”

“You want me to have the job? Jennifer’s job?”

“It’d be your job if you say yes, but, yeah, Jenn’s job.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Joel laughs.

“Oh my god! I– Are you sure? You’re sure? Tommy’s okay with– you really — you mean–” You jump to your feet with a burst of energy and try not to get too ahead of yourself. Maybe you heard him wrong. Maybe he’s playing an elaborate joke on you. So many other things would make more sense right now than what you think he’s saying.

“So is that a yes?”

“I– Of course! I would – oh.” Your shoulders slump in disappointment. Of course this was too good to be true. “I just remembered that I don’t exactly have a, um, have a way to get– I mean, I have my bike, but–”

Joel waves you off like it’s no issue at all that you don’t have a way to get to the office except for biking a long commute. “I’ll take ya with me. I live just around the way. It would actually be kinda silly if we didn’t carpool.”

“You mean you’d take me to work?” You can’t imagine why someone would go out of their way to be so kind to you. “You’d drive me every day?”

“M’already goin’ that way anyway,” Joel points out. “It’s not like I’m goin’ outta my way.”

“It just doesn’t seem…. Are you sure? I don’t want to put anything on you. It’s still a big commitment. You don’t have to, um, you know – I was sorta joking about you doing charity, but I don’t want you feeling like you have to—”

Joel holds up a hand to stop your running dialogue. “It ain’t a big deal, and even if it was, I’d still do it. You’re good at the work, good with the customers, a fast learner. You’re reliable and a hard worker. Seems like a pretty fair exchange to me.”

You practically strain your eyes trying to keep the hot pinching feeling from blooming into full on tears. “Joel, this is so– I can’t thank you enough for — this is so… thank you. Yes, I would love to have the job. And thank you for taking a chance on me. I won’t let you down.”

Joel grins at you and shakes his head like he’s thinking through some inside joke with himself. “Same to you, sweetheart. Took a chance on me when you agreed to help out, so I think we’re in the same boat here.”

“Here’s to taking chances then, I guess,” you giggle after a loud sniffle.

“Here’s to taking a chance on each other,” he agrees with a wink.

The more downtime Joel has, the more opportunities he has to sit and think about you. It’s one of the reasons he’s been trying to keep himself busy, to keep himself from blurring that line between professional and personal with you. He’s your boss for chrissakes – officially now that you accepted the job offer. Not to mention he’s much older than you but apparently missing the wisdom that was supposed to come with that. 

It was his responsibility to set clear boundaries and make sure he was fostering professional relationships with his employees. The problem when it came to you was it felt personal no matter what he tried to do. The more you two got to know each other, the more you eased into conversation and opened up. The more you opened up, the more greedy he got to unravel some other tangled string about who you were and what made you tick and what things you liked and what he could do to make you smile.

It was a death knell in his delusions that he didn’t feel anything for you when it became clear that you shared the same dumb brand of humor, taking delight in the small, nonsensical things that cropped up everywhere and anytime. You’d surprised him a few times when you’d have some smartass little quip out of the blue, looking nervous for a moment that it would be taken the wrong way, but of course it never was. He loved those random moments where you’d come out of left field with something and make him laugh in the sort of carefree way kids do when they’ve stayed up too late and had too much sugary soda and junk food.

And just when he’d gorge himself on those little moments, there was an undeniable, unsettling feeling he got sometimes when you’d talk about things. Carrying yourself in a way that seemed like you anticipated censure even when you’d done nothing wrong. Acting surprised when he’d compliment something you did, even if it was simple. You had a hard time accepting and believing all the good things but no difficulty whatsoever in assuming the worst about yourself. He couldn’t understand it, especially when you were so easy to get along with and so good with people.

Sure, your old boss Jeremy was a jerkoff, but you hadn’t seemed fazed too much the handful of times Joel was aware of his mistreatment towards you. There was something else going on there, but he wasn’t sure what. He wasn’t exactly close enough to you to ask about your mom leaving all those years ago. He’s wondered more than once if you struggle with feelings of being unwanted or not good enough – things that Sarah had struggled with when her mom up and left without so much as a backwards glance.

It was painful enough to see Sarah go through it, and he wasn’t sure watching it happen to someone else would be much easier to witness. You seem sensitive and ironclad all at once, but he’s not sure if that’s just the protective shell you’ve built up over the years. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to contribute to any notions you have about low self-worth or lack of talent.

And then even after all that, the more he learned about your home life, the more muddy the waters became. You’d mentioned your brother – Colin? Calum? Calvin? – had moved out several months ago with stars in his eyes and dreams of living a bigger life than what he could ever make here. It all sounded a bit too much like those perfectly curated responses you always had – like the one you’d skillfully delivered to Mr. Dillard to get him to warm up to you.  Joel didn’t like to press you too much about your brother, and you didn’t say much about if you two had a good relationship or a relationship at all. But you always seemed a little sad whenever it came up.

He knew your dad still lived in the house with you, and that was maybe the most perplexing piece of the puzzle yet. Joel had seen his newer car parked in the driveway before, knew from what you’d told him about his job title and where he worked that he must have a pretty decent salary and selection of suits and ties, and he had a house in the same neighborhood as Joel. All signs pointed to doing pretty well in life, at least enough to be financially comfortable, but then why didn’t you seem to have those things? 

You didn’t have a car. Maybe you didn’t have any interest in driving? But it didn’t seem that way. And regardless, your bike had certainly seen better days. At the very least you and your dad could pool finances together for a newer bike? And you wore a lot of the same clothes over and over again. He hadn’t said anything about the business casual that was loosely encouraged for the job you just accepted. Maybe you just had a few clothing choices that made you feel the most comfortable? He didn’t want to risk stepping in it by mentioning something other than the plan t-shirts and jeans you often sported.

Joel glances at the clock on the wall of the car shop – 11:30. His mechanic buddy was supposed to be done with the company truck by now. Not wanting to sit and mull over every tiny tidbit about you and your life, he got up and headed for the front desk to check with Susan about how much longer she thought it might be. Before he got there, she called out for someone else. A someone else with your last name. It was a unique enough name to make him wonder if there was some relation, but the man’s face confirmed it. There was that stony, cold face Joel had conjured in his mind’s eye a few months back. He hadn’t just imagined that distinct lack of warmth after all.

The woman with him seemed impatient and jumpy, following behind him like a petulant shadow. The cut of your dad’s voice to Susan made Joel’s head clock to the side. He hadn’t said anything rude, but he didn’t need to. The tone there expressed all the disdain and irritation left unspoken. Susan responded with something about the cars getting backed up because someone called out sick, and your dad’s companion rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“I can’t attest to the reliability of your staff, but I hope your work on her car is more promising,” he says plainly. His posture was so rigid and lax all at once. Everything about him was a bit of a contradiction. Joel noted the clean, shiny watch on his wrist where his pressed dress shirt grazed against it in a crisp, starched line. His hair was groomed without a single strand out of place. His shoes looked freshly polished. Between the attire and his demeanor, he certainly commanded respect and attention.

“Again, I apologize for the inconvenience,” Susan replied in a bored tone. She had never been one to take anybody’s bullshit in all the years Joel knew her. “If you would like the mechanic to review the work with you, I would be more than happy to call him in.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, but I appreciate the offer,” your dad says without sounding much like he means it.

“Alright then. I’ll call you up shortly once I print out the paperwork and detail. You can take a seat. And you can come on over, Joel.”

Susan waves him to the desk. Your dad meets his eye and seems to vaguely recognize the name and the face together. Joel puts his hand out for a shake. “Yeah, hi there. Joel Miller with Miller Contracting. Unless I’m mistaken, your daughter has been helping us out these past few weeks.”

Your dad gives him an up and down before offering a tight handshake. “Mr. Miller, yes. Joel. Nice to meet you. I’ve been wondering who this mysterious side job had come from.”

“You’re lookin’ at him,” Joel laughs low with a shrug. He waits for him to introduce his companion, but he doesn’t. “And, uh, nice to meet you….?”

“Denise,” she sniffs. She takes his hand in an awkwardly pinching grasp before tucking her arms across her chest again.

“Denise, nice to meet you.” The insincerity in his voice came through, but thankfully Denise didn’t really seem to care regardless.

“So Miller Contracting is doing pretty well these days?” your dad asks.

“Yeah, can’t complain. Projects are steady. Customers are good.” Joel tucks his hands into his pockets, calm and friendly.

“Good, good. Maybe a bit more growth and that starting pay could get bumped up a little, huh?” your dad chuckles. His tone is light, but the underscoring message is clear that he’s serious.

“Uh, definitely like to share the success of the business with our employees, for sure,” Joel answers back stiffly. How did your dad know exactly what you made? Had you talked to him about it? Were you upset at the amount? Did you think it wasn’t enough? It was more than the grocery store, and you didn’t have any experience in the field. He was covering transportation for you and setting you up with a better work situation than what you’d had before, right? And he and Tommy always did their best to show appreciation to their staff with things like holiday or hire date anniversary bonuses.

Most of all, you hadn’t ever seemed concerned or upset about your pay. Was this just another example of you tamping down a reaction or thought to something just to keep the waters smooth?

“She’ll never ask for it. Probably wouldn’t occur to her,” your dad laughs at your expense. “Never been too financially savvy. Takes after her mother, unfortunately.”

Joel doesn’t know your mother and doesn’t know the circumstances of her leaving, but it’s clear a comparison to her is not in any way intended with kindness. A burning hot impulse to stick up for you rolls in his gut.

“Well I don’t know about not bein’ savvy. She’s been doin’ a knockout job so far. Got a good head on her shoulders for sure.” It’s a harmless enough claim to vouch for you, but Joel feels a bit at odds with himself trying to balance the instinct to defend you with the logical, benefit of the doubt sort of way he usually handled things. After all, your dad was a finance and economics guy. He probably thought most everyone was lacking in that area of finesse and knowledge. He probably didn’t mean to single you out specifically.

“We’ll say that’s where she takes after me then,” he laughs with a tight smile. “Well, it was nice talking to you, Joel. We’re gonna go take our seats now.” He glances back at Denise, who immediately turns to sit down.

Joel shakes your dad’s hand again and waves at Denise when she makes no move to interact with him again. He doesn’t miss the unimpressed yawn that Susan does while watching them go sit back down.

He doesn’t mention meeting your dad at the auto shop. He wants to see if you bring it up first or at all. He wasn’t sure he’d do very well communicating all of his thoughts and feelings about it, anyway. It bothered him to imagine you being upset, feeling taken advantage of, and then not feeling comfortable enough with him to say anything about it. Every imagining of it always ends up with some saddened version of you badmouthing him to your dad. Now your dad thinks you’re being underpaid by some random asshole, and Joel knows how he’d feel if Sarah was ever in a situation like that.

But then he couldn’t stop thinking about how there was something peculiar about your dad. Maybe it was the stress of haggling for a fair price over the repairs? Maybe he was feeling like he had to act like a strong, stand up guy for Denise and handle business? Maybe maybe maybe. There was still something so detached in the way he spoke about you. 

His plan to not bring it up falls through halfway through the week. He can’t take the idea of you seeing him as unfair or cheap or deceitful. “Hey, uh, so I ran into your old man a coupla days ago.” He clocks the way your entire body freezes for a moment before stiffly sitting up straight and chewing hard around your bite of sandwich in the break room. 

“Oh?”  

His brow pulls together at your forced casual inflection. “Yeah. Yeah, he was, uh, he was giving my mechanic friend’s shop a bit of a hard time. Think he was just tryna impress his, er, lady friend that was with him? Denise?” Joel cringes at his bumbling explanation, but your split second sneer tells him he’s probably on the right track thinking it was a girlfriend. Maybe one day you’d get to know each other well enough for him to ask about whatever happened with your mom. When the neighborhood gossip had made the rounds about her abrupt departure, leaving behind two teenaged kids with her husband of 16 years, he’d been so curious to know what had happened there.

“Yeah, I guess she was getting her car repaired. She was in an accident a little bit ago. My dad is helping her out with it.”

“That’s nice of him,” Joel supplies with a pleasant but neutral tone, searching your body language or expressions for any tells or clues.

“It is,” you agree. Your answers always veered into this curt, factual sort of expression whenever your dad or family came up.

“And, uh, well he mentioned somethin’ to me that’s been sorta buggin’ me if I’m bein’ honest.”

Your eyes snap up to his, panic swelling and being forced back so quickly he almost misses it. “What did he say?”

“Just somethin’ about the pay, and I guess– well, I’ll just come out with it. Do you feel like you’re not bein’ paid fairly?”

That quelled panic now cannonballs back into the picture. “What?! No! Of course not! I’m very happy!”

“Now listen, it’s okay if you don’t. I want you to be honest with me. I want you to know you can talk to me about that sorta stuff, and—”

“I’M VERY HAPPY!” You say it like you’re begging him to believe you, so he does.

“Okay, alright alright. It’s okay. I’m not upset with ya,” he assures you. That seems to take some of the edge off. He hated whenever he got you into these little destabilized whirlwinds. You had several tripwires of interaction that he’d come to learn and try to maneuver, but he was trying to get better at figuring out what made you feel calm again, too.

“Listen, my dad is just— he’s protective or whatever, okay? He’s just very— he takes— he wants to make sure the money goes into the account like it should,” you flounder. “He keeps tabs on it because I’m just–I’m just not good with that stuff. I’m not— I just make stupid choices. I’m stupid about stuff a lot, so he just– he wasn’t—”

“Hey now, whoa whoa hold on,” Joel interrupts with a partially raised hand. He turns to face you at the table and makes the bold choice to cradle your bicep in his hand. A part of him sings and swells with delight when you don’t pull away and actually look a bit comforted by it. “You aren’t stupid. You’ve got to quit with that shit.”

You stare back with a deer in headlights look. “I’m– what I meant to say was that he’s– I’m not a finance person like him, is what I meant. So, in comparison or whatever, you know? That’s what I meant.”

“Well then say that instead. Don’t call yourself stupid because it’s not true. Okay? You hear me?”

You nod, eyes dropping down to your lap, and fiddle with the fabric of his jeans taut against his knee. “Okay.”

Your deliberate choice to make physical contact with him overwhelms him with a sense of pride he doesn’t fully understand but recognizes nonetheless.

“Listen, I gotta head out in a few minutes to meet with a client, but I’m gonna call to check in on you after when I’m on my way back, alright?”

You smile a little at that. “Okay.”

He can’t shake the strange feeling about your dad and your pay and why he’s apparently managing your money for you. His words come out before he’s really even thought about what he’s saying. “I think if you’re okay with it, we’re gonna keep doin’ the cash payroll for the time being. Might switch over after tax season is done.” He doesn’t even know if that’s a thing or what it even means, but it’s all he can concoct on the spot to keep your finances in a gray area until he gets a better hold on what the dynamic is between you and your dad.

Your face brightens and relaxes. “Oh, okay. Yeah. No, that’s fine. I’m fine with that.”

Way to fucking go, you idiot. 

You’re practically seething at yourself after Joel leaves to meet with a client. Why why why had you given your dad such a low number? You got greedy, that’s why. You could’ve just said it was a 50 cent pay cut instead of a whole dollar. Now Joel thinks you’re an ungrateful employee after he hired you even though you weren’t qualified whatsoever, and now your dad has made some point of contact with Joel. What if they run into each other again and your dad confronts him with the number you gave him? What would he do when Joel corrected that he in fact did pay you a whole two dollars more than what you were claiming.

You can imagine it now, the way your dad would go back through every timelog and bank statement to calculate how much you’d diverted. A cold snap runs up your spine when your mind starts to wander into the “how would he reprimand you for your dishonesty and disregard for his rules?” territory. You grab your flip phone to distract yourself for a moment in the hopes you can shove all this mental disequilibrium to the side until you have time to process and deal with it. 

You mindlessly read through Kenzie’s texts about meeting up with a classmate last night to study, only for it to end up with “lots of not studying oops lol” and a winky text emoji. She goes through her usual Dicking Down Rubric as she liked to call it, and ultimately gives her “study buddy” a 2.9 out of 5. Any hopes of getting your mind to a clearer spot have gone out the window. You wish your biggest life issues right now were how to grade someone’s sexual presence and prowess. You hadn’t been laid in forever, and you briefly wonder if your pussy could wither away permanently if the dry spell was long enough.

Maybe you could still become a nun or something one day if things don’t work out.

You sigh and shake your head. This wasn’t helpful, and it was keeping you from getting your work done. So, you force yourself to open an email, return a voicemail, open another email, double check the calendar for next week, open another email…..

Joel’s picture is taking up your phone screen before you know it. Your heart does a little leap just seeing it. “Hey,” you answer in an unbothered, collected sort of way. You hope, at least.

“Hey, just checkin’ in,” he says.

He remembered to check in on you after he said he was going to. The notion is enough to make you feel a tad too emotional for a work setting. Pathetic. Get it together.

“What a good boss,” you hum – light, bubbly, playful. Definitely not still reeling from your earlier conversation. Definitely not spiraling into the abyss. Definitely not panicking. Definitely not wishing you could feel him wrap his hand around your arm again or anywhere else he pleased.

“Just a perk of the job,” he chimes in with a hearty chuckle. He clears his throat. “So, uh, you’re doin’ alright? You feelin’ okay from earlier?”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you exhale.

“You’re doin’ it again,” he gently chides.

You aren’t sure what he means at first, but then you realize you must’ve apologized. At this rate you were downright curious as to what he deemed apology worthy because anything you’ve ever felt bad for thus far hasn’t met the criteria. “I guess I shouldn’t say sorry for saying sorry, huh?”

He breathes a little laugh over the receiver, and you want to melt into your seat. “And you have the nerve to call yourself stupid?”

Ever since that afternoon discussing his run in with your dad, Joel has been doing his little check ins more frequently. Chats in the car. Calls to and from clients or job sites. Little texts here and there over the weekend when he didn’t see you. You’d always regarded attention on you as a harbinger of corrections and judgements, but this sort of attention was different. It was nice. It made your chest feel more open, like you could breathe a little easier. It inserted a strange sort of hard stop to your day no matter what was going on, and it provided a clear moment of pause for you to check in with yourself.

You’d never been good at checking in on yourself. You were always too consumed with taking the temperature of everyone else around you. It was always harder to gauge your own thoughts and feelings without someone else’s mood and mindset acting as the measuring stick.

The entire month passes with these threads of outreach and gentleness and concern and support. Before you know it, the threads have woven into a tapestry of care and a true connection with somebody you might’ve never expected it from. How is he so soft and solid at the same time? How is he so commanding and comforting at the same time? How is he so steadfast and sympathetic at the same time? How is he so action oriented and receptive at the same time?

How was he so many things that your whole life you thought you had to pick one or the other when apparently you could be both without contradiction?

“You keep starin’ at me like I got barbecue sauce on my mouth or somethin’,” he laughs. His eyes stay fixed on the road, but his grin is so broad it bleeds into his entire side profile.

“Maybe you do,” you laugh back with a nonchalant shrug. You fix your eyes ahead now, too. Caught red-handed.

“I told you after y’all let me walk around with that booger in my nose for pretty much the entire day last week you’re required to tell me if I got somethin’ goin’ on.”

“I didn’t even see the booger,” you giggle.

“Liar,” he huffs. “Kept lookin’ at me so much I got to thinkin’ I musta looked real nice that day. Then I go to the bathroom and see that giant bat in the cave. Crushed my heart. Ego up in flames.”

“If you want me to say that you’re handsome even with a booger hanging out of your nose, you’re gonna have to promote me to CEO.”

He chuckles at that and fake pinches your leg. “Better read your contract again, ma’am. It’s right in there: employees must lie to Joel about how handsome he is.”

“Hm, sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen,” you muse.

“The only crime bein’ committed is y’all hurting my feelings by letting me walk around with delusions of grandeur,” he charges. “And I think that deserves jail time, honestly. County jail. None of that cushy stuff.”

You whistle low and cock an eyebrow. “Judge, jury, and executioner?”

Joel pulls into your neighborhood, and your heart sinks a little bit. It was always too short of a drive, always too short of a day. It wasn’t fair.

“Shame, isn’t it? And all you had to do was lie and tell me I’m handsome,” he tuts.

You angle your body towards the driver’s side and prop your elbow into the headrest. You rest your head against your hand and prop one leg on the seat. “So you go out of your way to hire liars then?”

He glances at you now with an impish little grin. “Sweetheart, if they’re as good as you are, I don’t care if they’re a liar or not.”

“Well in that case, you are devastatingly handsome.” You bite back a smile and pray to god he can’t feel the heat in your cheeks radiating off you.

“Knew it,” he declares in mock vindication.

You pretend pinch his leg back, and he grabs you before you can pull it away. His hand is so warm and big and safe.

“You better quit it,” he warns. You have a moment of internal shock when his words – words you’d heard spoken a million times in a million different variations, all intended to elicit compliance out of fear – don’t make you afraid. Nervous? Yes. Nervous in the stage fright sort of way. Nervous in the first day of school jitters sort of way. Nervous in the first kiss on a first date kind of way. But there’s no fear here. Just heady anticipation.

He drops your hand to make the turn onto your street, and your heart plummets through the floor. Everything with him always ended too soon.

Joel: Paul Revere here to tell you the trick-or-treaters are out and about.

Joel: The kids are coming! The kids are coming! 🐎🕯️Ready the candy bowls!

You: what’s with the horse and the candle lol

Joel: Paul Revere’s midnight ride. It’s not midnight, but you get the idea.

You: wow I’ve never met an emoji artist before

Joel: Ha ha very funny.

Joel: You get any trick-or-treaters yet? I don’t know what half of these costumes are.

You aren’t sure you want to tell him you’re currently sitting by yourself in a pitch black house so no kids come to your door thinking you have candy. Because of course your dad was out with Denise and her two kids, so of course he didn’t give a shit about putting out candy or what your plans were. He hadn’t even bothered to invite you, but you suppose that’s fair because you probably would’ve declined anyway. He was just saving you the extra step, really.

You: yeah funny enough we didn’t get any candy so I’m hiding out in a dark house so the kids don’t get mad at us

Joel: You’re by yourself?

Your heart did little flips every time he showed a modicum of protectiveness and thoughtfulness.

You: yeah it’s no biggie though I can just live vicariously thru you

You: you can tell me about the best costumes tomorrow morning and I can try to guess what the character is based off your terrible descriptions 🥲

Joel: Or you could just pass out candy with me? Unless you like sitting in the dark by yourself.

You: lol you tryna con me into passing out your candy for you?

Joel: Yes. 😎

Joel: Is it working?

You: be there in 5

His heart leaps into his throat when you cruise around the corner on your bike. God he hadn’t in his wildest dreams expected that texting you that stupid Paul Revere joke would result in you spending the evening with him. In truth, he’d just wanted to talk to you again. He couldn’t count how many times over the past several weeks he’d picked up his phone to send you a message and thought better of it at the last second. Can’t cross another line when he’s already crossed too many. 

He’d usually just stare at your contact picture for more time than was appropriate – a little consolation prize for barring himself from sending inane messages and calls your way – before shoving his phone back into his pocket. But now he didn’t have to settle for a static image of you. Now you were here in the flesh and going to spend a couple more precious hours together. He knew he shouldn’t make his giddiness too obvious, but christ was that becoming harder and harder the longer he knew you.

He takes your bike and props it against the porch railing. He makes a mental note about getting you a new one or at least letting him fix this one up for you. You settle onto the bench where he has the candy bowl already set up. He kicks himself for not knowing your favorite candy so he could’ve dumped a few bags of it into the mix.

“You want a beer or anything?”

You scrunch your nose and wave him off. “No, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

He settles onto the bench and can’t quite muster enough genuine regret about the tight fit it is for you both to share. You don’t lean away or adjust in your seat, so he takes it as good a sign as any that you don’t mind your thighs touching. You draw your legs up and place them criss-cross, apologizing for how your knee rests against his leg, and he takes a deep gulping swallow. Nope. Certainly no regrets about not building this bench bigger in the first place.

The first few trick-or-treaters come springing up onto the porch with their sights set on candy acquisition. You keep laughing at him trying to ask the kids what their costume is or who they’re supposed to be, only to have them flying off the porch in search of the next house.

“Quit it,” he laughs with a prod to your side. You squeak and nearly fold in on yourself towards him. “Oh, ticklish, huh?”

“Don’t you dare,” you warn. You sound like you might really mean it.

“I would never,” he huffs. “I’m the handsome gentleman boss, remember?”

“You’re just adding adjectives now, huh?”

“Caught me,” he concedes with a wink.

You’re icy when he asks about why you were holed up at your house by yourself. You tell him your dad is out with Denise and her two kids. There was that same odd energy from you whenever your dad cropped up in conversation. Trying to change the subject and lighten your mood, he asks about what sort of costumes you wore as a kid. You give him generic, vague answers — princess, witch, princess again, witch princess — and don’t seem all that nostalgic about any of it. 

“What about Sarah? What sort of costumes did she have?”

He loves talking about Sarah and all the things she’s done in her life and all the places she’s going next, but other people weren’t always as invested so he kept it simple. He laughs as he recalls the one year she insisted on being a hot dog for some reason but ended up stomping around and crying when all the other kids kept calling her a wiener. “It wasn’t funny, but shit… I mean….” He breaks into another round of laughter, and you join in.

“You’re a really good dad.” It’s a gentle remark, a tender observation. It makes Joel’s throat feel tight how delicately you share the sentiment, how soft it is on your tongue. It almost sounds wistful the way you say it. You reach over and squeeze the hand not holding onto the candy bowl. “Sarah’s really lucky.”

He squeezes your hand back. “Well, I’d say the same about her. Hard to not try for a kid like her, you know? She was better to me than I deserved most of the time. The least I could do was show up for her.”

Your sad smile goes tight as you look off into the front yard at the dwindling number of kids. It’s almost time for you to go home, and Joel knows it. He hates it. Every time he’s with you, the clock goes too fast and the time is up too soon. It’s always over too soon.

“Well, I’d better head out,” you announce. Your eyes drop back to your hand in his. He nearly slots his fingers into yours when you gently rub his hand with your thumb before standing up.

“Let me drive you,” he blurts out. Anything to make this last longer. Anything to spend more time with you.

“Oh, that’s silly. It’s just around the corner. That’s really sweet, but I—”

Joel hops up and abandons the nearly empty bowl of candy on the bench. He’s grabbing your bike and putting it into the bed of his truck before you can talk him out of it. “Just grabbin’ my keys,” he says as he skirts around you to the front door and swipes them from the console table.

“C’mon,” he insists. He places a hand on the small of your back. Your lashes flutter in a syrupy haze at the contact. He ushers you to the passenger door. He opens it for you and shuts it behind you.

“You really don’t have to,” you contend. It’s a weak appeal. He knows you don’t mean it. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up that maybe you like spending any spare second possible with him, too.

“It’s dark out, and who knows what kinda weird pranks some teenagers are tryna play. Gonna get yourself hit with a water balloon full of pee or somethin’ if you bike home.”

You exhale a shocked laugh through your nose. “A what? Is that the sorta thing you and Tommy got up to as kids?” You lean closer to him in the front seat.

He laughs and swears he never did more than TP a house or two or play ding dong doorbell ditch. He drives as slow as he can to your house, but it’s not very far. He’s helping you out of the car and unloading your bike for you before he knows it. Your dad’s car isn’t in the driveway. He hates thinking about you being in the house by yourself late at night like this. You walk him into the backyard where you store your bike in the shed. 

You walk so close to him side by side that he can feel the heat coming off you. He jokes that he really just wanted you to come over because he’s a big scaredy cat on Halloween. You snort and give him a light bump with your body. He gives you one back, and you grab onto his arm with the claim that he “could knock you flat on your ass” if he wasn’t careful. Joel lets himself be delusional and believe that you just want to hold onto him the way he wants to hold onto you.

“Ya know, talkin’ about being scared of things. I’m so fuckin’ glad I didn’t scare you off when I came with that offer to work in my house out of the blue.” He shakes his head and chuckles at how odd it probably was for you to be approached with it. “It was a weird situation, but I’m glad you don’t spook easy.”

You shoot him a soft, wistful smile from the porch steps where you turn to meet him almost eye level. “Spook me? No, hardly. Not when it’s more like you’re the one keeping The Scaries away.” Your eyes glance down to where your hand eases into his. You look up at him again and give his hand a little squeeze. “Get home safe. Don’t get yourself pelted with piss balloons.”

Joel grins and shakes his head instead of what his body is compelling him to do because he knows it wouldn’t be right to snatch you up right now into a kiss. “I’ll text you when I get home to let you know my fate.” He reluctantly drops his hand before he does something stupid that he can’t take back. You wave him off and head inside. 

Joel’s tail lights disappear around the corner, and your entire body feels like it could collapse under the taut band of whatever your relationship with him was turning into — or had already turned into weeks ago.

No. No. This isn’t a relationship. It’s a work relationship. It’s professional. 

He’s your boss.

The house is empty. Your dad is still trick-or-treating with his ready made, play pretend family. You thought you’d be used to it by now, the nauseating sensation of someone else always being picked instead of you, but it still feels like a scab being ripped up every time. Even during his love bombing phases, he never showed up for you like that as a kid. He was almost always putting most of his energy into keeping your mom complacent enough to stay.

There wasn’t ever any leftover energy or motivation after he charmed and conned your mom into believing this time would be different. You’d always felt even as a child that she’d been the one who wanted to have kids and that he obliged but resented her for it, even all these years later. Kids were a means to an end, a bandaid on a broken relationship, and you wonder if it ever occurred to him that you and Calum were actual people with actual feelings and individual hopes and dreams and thoughts and aspirations. More often it felt as though he regarded you much the same as some household pet or other dependent thing that was more trouble than it was worth.

It always seemed so obvious that he cared mostly about the projection of family life rather than the actual family unit. Appearances were something him and your mom could actually agree on, and they both exacted their demands to fit the mold in different but equally excruciating measures.

You feel like crying, but you aren’t sure why. You don’t want your mom to choose you. You don’t want your dad to choose you. Not when all the destructive, dysfunctional aspects come with it. It’s a package deal you never truly want, even if sometimes your heart tried to tell you maybe it was okay if you did want to be chosen by your parents just once to know what it felt like.

The gleam of light from your work phone illuminates your room. It’s Joel.

Joel: Made it home dry. Didn’t get hit by any pee balloons either.

You: is that a double pee joke??? 😭

Joel: Yes.

You: wow all I can say is that urine luck that I like you so much because otherwise 😐

Joel: Please never tell Sarah I was bested in a toilet humor joke-off. I have so little, and I can’t lose this.

You: oh you want my silence huh what’s in it for me?

Joel: My undying love and gratitude.

Your heart swells at his words, and you allow yourself to slip into the fantasy of it. The alternate universe where Joel Miller truly does wish to give you his undying love and gratitude. In text land, though, you play it cool. Or try to.

You: hmmm idk anything else on the table?

Joel: Breakfast tomorrow morning on me?

You: ok now we’re talking

Joel: See you bright and early. 😎

You: lol ok see you in the am

Joel: Night. 🎃💤🧸

You: what’s the bear doing?

Joel: That’s his favorite stuffed animal, thank you very much!

You: the pumpkin?? 

Joel: Yeah. Because it’s Halloween. Get it? Goodnight? Jack-o-lantern with his favorite teddy bear going to sleep?

You: wow you should write books

You feel a rush of excitement and nerves when his contact picture takes up the entire screen. You answer almost immediately, eyes fluttering closed at the sound of his breathy chuckle on the other end.

“Well, hello, Joel,” you hum.

“You makin’ fun of me?” he demands in feigned indignation.

“No, not at all. In fact, if you wrote that book I’d read it one hundred percent,” you assure him in an over the top sweet voice. “I’d be first in line at the signing and everything. I’d have on my jack-o-lantern and bear t-shirt with my matching wristband and baseball cap. I’d be decked out. Totally. Your number one fan.”

He scoffs and fakes offense. “You mean you aren’t already my number one fan?”

“I dunno, where are you buying me breakfast?”

He laughs hard now and mutters under his breath about you being a wolf in sheep’s clothing. You tug your lower lip under your teeth and stifle a giggle. “Wherever you want, princess.”

“Oh, now who’s brown nosing who, huh?” you lob back with a tiny titter, trying with all your might to not scream into your pillow and the way his voice dropped with that last line.

“So what if I am?”

Maybe he hadn’t meant to come across so charged and weighted, but it landed like a lead brick in your lap. A beat of nervous silence and then–

“Well, then I’d say it’s working,” you tease. He breathes a little laugh, a relieved exhale more than anything. “And I don’t care where we get it. Just some random drive-thru would be fine with me, honestly.”

Joel tuts in disapproval. “C’mon now, you can do better’n that.”

“I’ve never been a huge breakfast person, so I don’t know all the good spots. I mean, why don’t you just pick whatever your favorite spot is, and we’ll do that?”

He considers this for a moment before agreeing. “Yeah, alright. I’ll figure somethin’ out. I’ll pick you up about 30 minutes earlier tomorrow. You get some rest now and don’t let me keep you from it, alright?”

“You’re not keeping me from anything,” you softly correct. When the quiet passes between you two again in that weighted, charged energy, you add, “Tonight was really nice. Thanks for letting me pass out candy with you.”

“It was nice,” he agrees. “And I enjoyed the company and conversation. Brought up lots of good memories for me all while makin’ some new ones.”

Your heart feels like it could burst at any moment.

“Definitely some wholesome piss balloon memories made,” you joke.

He laughs again, a sound you’ll never tire of hearing. “Absolutely. Now on that wonderful note, I’ll let you get some sleep. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Joel.”

trying to do the tags even tho they didn't work last time:

@witchy-and-persnickity @tuquoquebrute @ellenmunn @akah565 @goodwithcheese @koshkaj-blog @umnitsa @jupiter-soups @pastelnap @fadajnaoqkzalq @confusedpuffin @zooty-and-fruity @drunk-and-capable @cumberpegg @persephone-girl @lovelyjess69 @verybigvag @nutterbitter @sunshinehaze1 @beelzebeth87 @bizarrelove-triangle

[sherewrytes]

ℂℝ𝕌𝕊𝕀ℕ', 𝓒 𝓼𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻

The soft hum of city life buzzed around you as you adjusted the strap of your Diesel purse on your shoulder. The night air was cool, tinged with the faint scent of freshly baked pretzels from a nearby food cart. Neon signs flickered, casting vibrant colors onto the sidewalk as you made your way to the entrance of The Vibe, an exclusive club in the heart of downtown L.A. Your heart pounded with excitement and a hint of nervousness. Tonight was a big night for Connie, your boyfriend of six months, as he was set to perform his new single for the first time.

The bouncer nodded at you, recognizing you immediately. Being a top fashion model for Ony’s girlfriend’s new and upcoming fashion label, Xera, had its perks. You smiled back, offering a polite nod before slipping inside. The interior of The Vibe was a kaleidoscope of flashing lights and pulsing music, a perfect blend of chaos and harmony. You scanned the crowd, spotting familiar faces and a few industry moguls. Connie’s performance tonight was more than just a gig; it was a potential launchpad to stardom.

As you made your way to the VIP section, you couldn't help but reflect on how far you and Connie had come in such a short time. You were once just a graphic and web designer, content with your creative world behind the screen. Then Ony had introduced you to his girlfriend, Delle Ceasar, and suddenly, you were thrust into the glitz and glamour of the fashion world. Meeting Connie at one of Xera’s fashion shows had been serendipitous. His charisma, talent, and genuine nature had drawn you in from the moment you laid eyes on him.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice called out, snapping you from your reverie. You turned to see Ony making his way towards you, a grin plastered on his face. His arm was draped over the shoulders of his girlfriend, Delle, who wore one of her latest Xera creations. They looked like the ultimate power couple.

"Hey, Ony! Hey, Delle!" you greeted them, exchanging hugs. "Y’all ready for Connie’s big night?"

"Absolutely," Ony replied, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "This is just the beginning for him. And for you too, Y/N. Y’all like the ultimate dream team."

Delle nodded in agreement. "You’ve been his rock, Y/N. He’s lucky to have you."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thanks, y’all. I’m just glad to be here for him."

As the night wore on, you found yourself by Connie’s side backstage. He was pacing, a bundle of nerves and energy, his usual confident demeanor slightly shaken. You placed a hand on his arm, stopping his frantic movements.

"Hey, babe," you said softly, looking into his eyes. "You got this. I believe in you."

Connie stopped, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Y/N. I just… this is huge, you know? don’t wanna mess it up."

"You won’t," you assured him. "You’ve worked so hard for this. Just go out there and do what you do best. I’ll be right here, cheerin' you on."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "What did I do to deserve you?"

You laughed, the sound light and filled with love. "You just be you, Connie. That’s more than enough."

The moment finally arrived. The lights dimmed, and the crowd’s chatter hushed to a murmur. You stood in the wings, your heart pounding in time with the opening beats of Connie’s new single Mister Misfit. He stepped onto the stage, the spotlight catching the gleam of determination in his eyes. As he began to rap, the words flowed effortlessly, his voice commanding and raw. The audience was captivated, swaying and nodding to the rhythm.

You watched, pride swelling in your chest. This was Connie’s moment, and he was seizing it with everything he had. The connection you felt with him was undeniable, a bond that had only grown stronger over the past six months. As he finished his performance, the crowd erupted into applause, and you couldn’t help but let out a cheer of your own.

Connie looked over, his eyes finding yours in the sea of faces. He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that spoke volumes. This was just the beginning, not only for his career but for the journey you were on together.

Connie walked off the stage in the nightclub straight backstage to you and scooped you up in his arms. "Thanks for being here Ma. If you weren't I'd choke up there." You giggled as her spun you around. You say Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Ony and his bf walking up to greet Connie on his performance. Connie put you down to dap up both Eren and Ony

"Got to say man Con' I was a lil worried about this new single since it's a bit different than your usual shit. Most people don't dabble with new sounds this early on." Armin said to Connie.

Armin came from big family of the largest record company Paradia Records were all his friends were signed to with more than favorable record deals.

Connie rolled his eyes, taking the blunt from Eren's hand to spark it and take a drag "Yah man, told you and your old ass fam I know my shit when it comes to music" Armin laughed knowing Connie was right.

Everyone left backstage and headed to the VIP section of Mikasa's family nightclub The Vibe to turn up.

After the show, you found yourselves cruising through the city in his blacked-out Corvette, the night alive with possibilities. "Differences" by Ginuwine played softly from the speakers, a fitting soundtrack to the evening. Connie reached over, entwining his fingers with yours.

"Thank you for believin' in me, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I couldn’t have done this without you."

You squeezed his hand, looking at him with all the love you felt in your heart. "And I couldn’t imagine bein' anywhere else. We’re in this together, Connie. Now and always."

The car ride was smooth, the city lights whizzing by as the music filled the silence. Connie glanced at you, his eyes soft and full of unspoken promises. "You know, when I was out there tonight, all I could think about was you. How you’ve been there for me through all the grind, all the late nights. You my ride or die, Y/N."

You smiled, your heart swelling with emotion. "And you mine. Ain’t nothin’ we can’t handle together."

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Remember that time you stayed up with me all night, helpin’ me write those lyrics? Man, you had some bars! I was like, damn, my girl got talent."

You laughed, remembering the night vividly. "Well, I do what I can. We make a good team, don’t we?"

"The best," he agreed, his grip on your hand tightening for a moment. "I ain’t never had nobody like you, Y/N. You different."

The words of Ginuwine's "Differences" seemed to echo his sentiment, the lyrics weaving a tapestry of your journey together. As the car cruised down the highway, the cityscape morphing into quieter suburbs, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. This was your life now, a mix of hustle and heart, dreams and determination.

"You know," Connie said after a while, his voice soft, "I been thinkin’... we should celebrate tonight. Just you and me. Get away from all this for a minute. How about we head to that little spot by the lake? The one you love so much."

Your eyes lit up at the suggestion. "That sounds perfect. Just us, some good music, and the stars. Ain’t no better way to celebrate."

Connie smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Then it’s a date. Let’s get outta here, ma."

As you left the city behind, the road stretching out before you, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Life had a funny way of bringing people together, of creating connections that were both unexpected and extraordinary. With Connie by your side, you knew that no matter what the future held, you were ready to face it head-on, together.

The night was still young, and as the two of you cruised towards the lake, the stars shining brightly above, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning. A story of love, dreams, and the unbreakable bond that tied you and Connie together.

Lemme know if you want this to be a multific

[windvexer]

Resolving conflicting magical recommendations (for beginners)

(This isn't reactionary I promise, it's been on my mind for a couple of days ����)

Idk really how helpful this will be, but if you're a beginner who is confused by a lot of apparently contradicting information, here are some thoughts/ideas that are too basic to have been this hard earned, but I'm not called Fool for no reason.

[All of the following are just my beliefs and aren't universal or applicable to everyone]

Resolving magical conflicts through intent

You can find apparent contradictions in almost any magical action. For example:

Light a candle to charge a crystal with energy

Light a candle to burn away an energy and dwindle it down to nothing

When you light the candle, is it going to fill the crystal with energy?

Or, is it going to burn away energy until nothing is left?

My belief is that this is where the idea of intent plays one of its most basic and vital roles in witchcraft.

When you perform a magical action, "setting intent" can be a vital first step that should not be skipped.

If you are aware that the fire could either charge or burn away, then it is very literally up to you what it does. As the agent of control and/or chaos, it is the witch who determines which facets of power come out to play.

Setting intent can be done inside of your head. Or, speak, sign, or write intent.

Rules about how you totally have to write intent can, for the most part, be ignored (e.g., "your intent must be present progressive tense or the Universe will never let you manifest your goals." Nah, the Universe doesn't even speak human language tbh.)

Setting intent is not the only step to working magic, and sometimes literally doesn't matter. ("It's my intent to honor the spirit of this lake with an offering! *Dumps cigarette butts and beer cans into the water* "The lake is honored because that was my intent 😌")

Having a limited set of beliefs about what a certain power can do is like automatically setting intent. ("It's only possible that candles burn away energy, so when I light it, of course it will have a banishing effect.")

Setting intent in this manner only works to the extent that the power you are working with could already do the thing. If you've got a freezer with an ice dispenser on the door you can intend to store food inside it to chill, or, you can intend to get water out of the door, but it doesn't matter how much you intend to fry a chicken. The fridge does not do that action.

Resolving magical contradictions through tradition

Tradition in and of itself can advise how to resolve contradictions of magical meaning. This includes religious, magical, and cultural traditions.

What's important to remember is that just because one group does it one way, it doesn't mean that their way is universally correct.

A lot of people enter into the world of witchcraft with the concept that there is one universally correct set of methods and rules by which to perform magic. These methods are secret, but written down somewhere, and the key to learning magic is to just find the truest set of rules to magic. Magical truth is mutually exclusive, and contradictory information must either replace current truth, or be rejected as falsehood.

And fortunately for everyone, none of that is true!

This is why someone in one school of magic can make a certain claim ("letting spell vessels touch the earth immediately robs them of their power and the magic becomes inert,") and someone else can make a totally contradictory claim ("bury spell vessels for three days to supercharge them with the power of Nature,") and both people can be equally right.

Which set of rules might be true for you?

Well, whichever tradition you're a part of.

This is why it's really important to understand where your beliefs come from, and also to engage in self-examination about what you believe about the cosmos, our planet, and your role within it.

Entering into a tradition has a curious effect - you tend to be bound to those rules and assumptions, whether you like it or not.

Reflect on whether or not your current traditions and beliefs can resolve conflicting information.

Ask yourself what beliefs must be inherent before an assumption about magical 'rules' can be true.

(P.S. you can learn multiple contradictory systems of magic and flip between them depending on needs)

Resolving magical contradictions through experimentation

One witch may be able to charge excellently by burning candles and using intent to direct the burning energy.

A second witch may discover that they really can't charge jack shit with a candle. The energy seems to slip between their fingertips. When they direct it at something, it seems to have a consuming effect - not an invigorating one.

Setting magical intent is like choosing which path to walk down. But, the paths are unique for each of us. For the first witch, the path of "Charging Through Candleflame" is wide and open, a beautiful paved boulevard they can stroll down.

For the second witch, the path of "Charging Through Candleflame" is like hiking up a steep hill littered with boulders, and also the hill is on fire.

Many magical contradictions can be explained by practitioners simply having different personal experiences, and incorrectly assuming that their experiences must be universal.

One excellent way to learn not only about magic as a whole, but also how magic works for you, is to earnestly experiment with contradictory meanings and discover which ones A) make sense to you, but more importantly, B) actually work for you.

Whether or not you can use a candle to charge, banish, or both; and whether or not that's more or less effective for you than using water, or the sun, or pop culture icons, is something that you'll only be able to discover for yourself through experimentation.

Resolving magical contradictions through technique

If setting intent is choosing what path to walk down, then on the course of walking down that path, there is a chance you trip and fall flat (see: "I'm honoring the lake by dumping trash in it!").

Tripping and falling flat doesn't mean that path of magic is impossible for you, or shouldn't be further explored.

It can really just mean that you need some hiking boots and a trail guide.

Or, in other words: setting intent can be insufficient to actually access and manifest certain types/aspects of power.

I have personal beliefs about sorcerous power that dictate that various powers can be more or less difficult to access depending on a variety of factors. And, a witch must learn techniques to access the power. The more remote or hidden that power is, the more capable or attuned a witch must be to access that power.

That is to say, someone intensely aligned with underworld powers may be able to easily access the facets of death and decay that exist within many natural forces. But, someone without that alignment might instead need capable techniques gained through learning and practice in order to access those same powers.

And someone with neither of those things, who only tries to set intent and starts on a difficult path filled with roadblocks, may falsely assume that something "just doesn't work for me," when in reality, it's just more difficult to access.

This is why one witch can say, "roosters are a powerful source of connection to the underworld," another witch can say, "roosters only connect to the underworld if you use their feathers in a certain ritual," and a third witch can say, "roosters don't connect to the underworld," and all three are speaking from valid personal experience.

Experimenting with different techniques means learning a wide variety of ways to perform magic, including different paradigms, rituals, techniques, and methodologies.

Many systems of witchcraft contain concepts of when power is more or less available (the easiest example is the types of power more freely available due to the phases of the moon). Learning these systems can assist in discovering the accessibility of various powers.

Research is your friend.

In summary,

There are many reasons why witches have different lived experiences with magic (the topic of which would be enough to fill a book or two). As a witch-practitioner, your role in the creation of magic can't be ignored.

It's through your own culture and traditions, your own intent, and your own sorcerous techniques and education, through which you will be able to determine what aspects of magic are true to you - and which do not apply.

[m-ayo-o]

capture [I]

suggestive 600 wc it had to be him selfshiptember; 8 // something scary

You know it’s only been a couple of hours, but you’ve been trapped in his domain for what feels like days.

The King of Curses has captured you, and you know there’s no escape.

There’s no one coming to save you.

All you can do is wait for his return, processing over and over how you ended up here in the first place.

Your eyes eventually droop after an age of waiting, slipping into unconsciousness while your body slumps against something hard and uncomfortable.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

You remember chaos hitting the city, buildings levelled, people running and screaming, getting trapped and buried in the rubble.

Escaping the fate of death so many others faced, you stumble into a clearing, finding the one who seemingly caused all the destruction.

His crimson eyes find you, barely a scratch on your body. He must’ve known then that you were different. There’s no way a non sorcerer would’ve survived that mess.

But what kind of sorcerer? Does she have a useful ability? A few of the first questions that cross his mind.

“Who the fuck are you!!!” you scream, “My friends are–” your shrill cry is silenced when you feel a hand over your mouth.

Fear runs through your body, panic crossing your features.

Seeing him up close like this, you realise who this is.

The black markings hooking over his face, those deep, red eyes, the terrifying cursed energy you can feel from his body.

He enjoys how slowly you take in the information, watching reality dawn on you.

“You know who I am, don’t you?”

You nod, a tear threatening to prick in your eye.

“Sorcerer?”

You nod again.

“You want to live?”

A muffled sob escapes your lips against his hand, “yes”

“Hm,” he snickers, seamlessly teleporting to a dark and dingy pit, red and black, with no sky, finding only blood and bones at your feet.

He sits you atop a large bony frame, seemingly a ribcage, and starts questioning you.

You answer quickly and succinctly, surprised that he’s sparing you the time of day to listen. He gets all the information he requires, the edge of his mouth lifting into a smirk hearing your bold and unwavering tone.

“Very good. You could be useful,” he admits, his hand finding your face again as he tilts your jaw from side to side, seemingly inspecting you.

“Pretty, too,” he remarks with a grin, watching you squirm, your stomach flipping at his words.

You know you shouldn’t feel this way, but after sitting here and studying his features while you answer his questions, you know your body is drawn to him. It’s a shameful, dirty attraction that you can’t fight.

His power and prowess alone could draw you to him, let alone his twisted grin and that thick, velvety voice.

“Enjoying the view?” he questions, pulling you out of your long stare, a blush crossing the bridge of your nose.

An evil laugh escapes his lips, “Falling in love with your captor isn’t advisable, you know,” he gives you a wink, which only makes the pink spread to your cheeks.

He leans right down to your face, “Maybe we can have some fun, hm?”

You return a glare, which he seems to take for a ‘yes’ as he edges closer, his lips hovering over yours.

“But I’ve got some unfinished business,” he mutters, pulling away.

“Don’t–” your voice erupts from your mouth before you can think.

“What?” he laughs.

“Don’t go back out there.” you feebly try to stop him, knowing that he’s going to cause more carnage.

“Don’t miss me too much,” he grins then disappears.

sukuna | m.list

selfshiptember 8!!

likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! <3

[inthemytdl]

Teenage Dream

Summary: Jack prepares for his first date (with a girl)

Note: she/her pronouns

“Are you sure?” Jack brushed down the black shirt and army style jacket Dean gave him.

The sleeves went a couple inches past his hand, so he had to roll them up to fit properly. The shirt, on the other hand, fit well. 

“Trust me, chicks dig the bad boy look,” Dean said. “A little dirt, a little grime. Works every time.”

Jack had never been on a date before, but he imagined dressing nicer than this. Wearing his FBI suit, maybe. It was the nicest one he owned and the sleeves fit perfectly.

He turned to Sam. “Is that true?”

“Sometimes,” Sam said, without looking up from his computer.

But Jack had seen a good amount of romance films and couldn’t imagine Sam as the bad boy in any of them. In his mind, he was always the nice guy. The hero.

“Did you think you’d go in your FBI suit?” Dean laughed. “This is a date, kid, not a case.”

“I like that suit. Cass says blue is my color.”

Cass nodded. “It’s true. And that”—he pointed at Jack—“is horrible.”

“Hey!” Dean shouted. “That’s style. Army green, simple tees. That’s in right now. It’s all over the mags.”

“Mags?” Sam said.

“Magazines. God, you guys are old.”

Jack watched the scene unfold. Dean was doing that thing where he pretended to be young again while Sam groaned and Cass filed his nails against the wooden table. Usually, he’d let it go on, but there were just thirty minutes until his date with you and he still didn’t have an outfit.

“I don’t have time for this!” Jack shouted. His skin was hot like when he used his powers.

“Woah. Relax. It’s just a date,” Dean said.

“He’s never been on a date before, Dean,” Sam countered.

“So? Neither has Cass and he’s doing fine.”

“Dating, love, relationships. Those are human things,” Cass said. “Trivial.”

“Trivial?” Dean craned his neck toward him and the pair erupted into yet another argument as Sam approached Jack.

“It doesn’t matter what you wear,” he said. “Just be yourself. Girls can tell when you’re faking.”

“They can?” Jack felt more nervous than before. It was all too human. And he was only half of that. He wasn’t used to having sweaty palms or a butterfly-filled stomach. He thought he was sick the first time he felt their flutter before Sam explained that it was normal.

“Uh, yeah. Sometimes,” Sam coughed. “But you’ll be fine.” He gave him those puppy dog eyes he gave families when working a case: his attempt to take half of their pain. It worked sometimes. Jack was grateful it worked now.

“Okay,” he said, leaving to change. 

He hurried to his room and put on a white button up paired with a brown suit. That blue tie he loved. He stopped for a moment to look in the mirror, did an awkward smile, then made his way back to the command center.

The chaos had died down by the time he arrived, and all three of the boys sat around the table listening to Sam. Jack overlooked the scene from the head of the table. This was one of the few times the bunker was quiet: when one of them was talking and the others listened. And that was rare. Most days, they talked over each other.

“Woah. Look at you.” Sam was first to notice him. His dimples pinched his cheeks as he smiled.

“Much better,” Cass rasped.

Dean scrunched his face and made his way over to him. Jack wiped sweaty palms down his blazer. Dean was never all that nice to him, but a couple months in the bunker and they had become somewhat of a family.

“You’ve got to learn how to properly tie a tie,” Dean said, and he adjusted it for him. “There. Not as good as before but… decent.” He nodded, then fished in his pocket and produced silver keys. “Here.”

“You’re letting me drive the impala?” Jack said.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Sam clapped. “Alright, go get ‘em, tiger.”

A rush of energy overcame Jack, though he couldn’t tell why. It might’ve been confidence or nerves or something entirely different—he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t used to feeling this way. He had grown accustomed to fear and adrenaline. Love, even. But never romantic, and never like this.

This would be the first time he went on a real date, and one where no one tried to kill him. He felt prepared; he knew what to do. Once he got to the restaurant, he would pull your chair out for you, you’d talk, and then you’d fall in love with him.

There was only one thing he was unsure about.

“What should I say when I get there?” he asked. 

“I read in a Teen Vogue magazine it’s custom to talk about your interests,” Cass said.

“Zombies?”

“No—no zombies!” Dean said. “For the love of god, no zombies.”

“Just follow her lead, okay?” Sam said.

Jack nodded, making a mental note of all the advice he’d be given. But if he wasn’t allowed to talk about zombies, what would he talk about? 

“Uh, kid.” Dean laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not moving.”

“I’m not?”

“No,” Cass said. “You’ve been standing in Dean’s beer puddle for thirty seconds now.” 

“Oh.” He felt the liquid squish below his feet.

“Here, I’ll walk you.” Sam placed a hand on his back and led him to the door.

“You’ll call me if you need help?”

Leaving during a case felt wrong—like when he finished a box of cereal and it didn’t have a toy in it or when he waved at someone and they didn’t wave back—but Sam insisted he go.

“Yeah,” Sam said, opening the door for him. 

Jack lifted a slow hand and waved goodbye. 

Sam smiled and waved back; gave him that look that took half his nerves, half his pain. Then the door shut and it was time for his date.

[whole-circus]

Hey! I have recently been obsessing over your works I love your writing and you ARE SUCH A LOVELY PERSON 😭 i love reading your kind words to others and how you write in such a creative way!!

Could you possibly do a fem!reader who looks masc and constantly gets misgendered with jeff, Ben, Toby, hoodie or clockwork!

(I would be happy with any of them)

Thank you <3

Creepypastas with fem.reader that looks masc!

➥ with Jeff the Killer, BEN Drowned, 'Ticci' Toby, and Clockwork

I will cry you are the sweetest!! Fr you feed my self esteem!!🫶<3 Im sorry that you waited so much!! And I apologize for not putting Hoodie here!! Have amazing day and take care of yourself!!! i love your nick btw 😭

˚　　✦　　　. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚. 　　　✦　　˚

Jeff the Killer

Thats it, he is propably one of the people that misgendered you on purpose (and he is proud of himself because he is little shit like that..). But of course Jeff can do that once you both are in relationship, he has to have some privilege yk? Being meanie is just his love language. Even if he is still mean sometimes, then at the end of day he is here to beat people who do that - no matter if they did it in in mean manner or not, Jeff doesnt care he just want blood and chaos (and your happiness)! Besides all that, he finds you cute and pretty anyway, doesnt matter what you really look like. Jeff isnt the best person to talk about appearance and he knows that. So you can wear anything, be more "feminine" or "musculine" and he is still cool with that!

BEN Drowned

Boy will literally bark at people who misgender you 😭 No, just kidding, but he dont stand people being like this and will automatically correct them! Gets the fact that you are tired because of that and want to do everything in his power to make you feel better! Even if someone is not doing it on purpose then you have full right to feel uncomfy! So you will recieve a lot of worship and sweet words from Ben overall. Okay but you cant tell me that he wouldnt dress in dresses and skirts to fuck up with people (plus he want to feel pretty (he is a pretty boy anyway, lets be honest))! Loves making them even more confused. Ben is pretty open-minded so doesnt care what you look like or how you dress you are his queen and he treats you like one!!

"Ticci" Toby

I will start with something a bit out of request but..Toby would 100% want to wear matching clotheswith you! Dont get me wrong, he definitely loves you and drool at you no matter you wear (you could wear anything, even garbage bag), but loves showing you off! He is so so grateful that he is your boyfriend and he wants to brag about it to everyone. Definitely thinks in his head that someone would look at you and be like 'omg they are a couple what a cuties'...we love his energy. If you feel upset about people constantly misgendering you, Toby is right here to make it all better and give you a lot of praises! He enjoyes pampering you, when you feel especially down..he is always content to make you both small things like face masks, painting eachother nails or even do eachother makeup for fun (Toby suck at it but he got the right spirit)!

Clockwork

Clockwork doesnt really believe in things like "too musculine" or "too feminine", clothes should be functional - doesnt matter what you wear, but rather how you feel in them - and people are just diffrent when it comes to look. Thats why i think she would be even more angry, she gets that people can make mistakes but if they do it on purpose just to mess with you, then she wont stay calm. What a protective gf she is! Its nice if you dont care about this constant iccidents, becasue they happen - but if you start worry even in the slightest? She will be your sholder to cry on and your number one support girl! Natalie will assure you that you are fine just the way you are, and you can look however you want - its nobody case - she likes you for you! .. Just dont tell anybody about this, she would rather keep it as a secret.

˚　　✦　　　. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚. 　　　✦　　˚

[sometimes-sleeby-octopus]

I have a new AU idea swimming around in my head where the Smiling Friends are all mages trying to save their town from a disaster event so I drew Mage Allan recently!!! :DD

Shout out to @universallydestinytaco for listening to my infodumping and giving great ideas and feedback on the AU!!! :D

Haven’t worked out all the details yet but here’s some (as in a lot of) info on the au:

1. It would be called the Fifteen Minutes AU since I got the idea listening to the song Fifteen Minutes by Mike Krol

2. Background: The main four would still work for Mr. Boss, but the company would be called The Smiling Sorcerers instead! Their goal is to help out around the town using their magic to make people smile!

3. Glep’s design would be very similar if not completely the same to the design in this post.

4. The main four and Mr. Boss would all have different ways of using magic/spell casting!

5. Mr Boss is a future seer and randomly gets premonitions of events shortly beforehand, usually within the same day, except in the case of really severe events like the disaster, in which he gets a couple days notice. He cannot predict everything that will happen and essentially gets a general summary.

6. Allan utilizes magic cards as both physical weapons/tools and to harness their magic. The fortune’s in the cards, so he has increased luck that he can choose to pass onto others through giving them a card. He pulls them out/summons them from the area by his heart, right underneath his bow. The drawbacks are that she can’t change the size of the cards, only combine them, and she can only use so many before running out of energy, so she has to use them wisely.

7. Glep utilizes mind magic to read others minds and even transmit thoughts to them. He can also increase the production of certain brain chemicals like adrenaline for himself without any side effects. His mind reading also works for premonitions (which makes him find out about the disaster event before the other four). The drawback is that he has to focus to clearly read someone’s thoughts and when he does so, any thoughts that someone has (intrusive, impulsive, random, untrue etc) can be read, so he has to read between the lines and ask the right questions to find out truth. He also cannot use his magic for attacks, but he can utilize it to increase his existing physical ability like in the case of using adrenaline.

8. Charlie uses his hands to cast spells that interact with the existing physical world, mainly through things like levitation and object manipulation. There is no weight limit or energy limitations for his powers, but one of the drawbacks is that the heavier the object, the more concentration it takes to levitate it. Another one of the drawbacks is that he cannot change the "core meaning" of an object (ex: he can't just instantly turn an orange into a potato, he would have to use different steps of manipulations and associations to make that happen, and it could take a while if he can’t think of a proper association).

9. Pim uses a wand to cast his light spells!! They function somewhat similarly to electricity with the different levels having different effects. The lower levels have healing properties and the higher levels are more chaotic and cause damage. They tend to use their powers more so for healing and dislike using them to cause harm, which exacerbates the drawback: The chaos of the higher levels can be difficult to control.

Lastly, here are rough sketches of Charlie and Pim’s outfits!!!

More on this later in another post assuming I don’t burn out haha :’)

TLDR: The Fifteen Minutes AU is an SF au where the main four + Mr Boss are mages working under the company The Smiling Sorcerers, which helps people using their different magical abilities. It was inspired by the song Fifteen Minutes by Mike Krol. Maybe more on the plot later! :3

[eevylynn]

Dark Horse

Voiles || E || Stiles/Void Stiles || 1909 wc

Everything was muffled and loud at the same time. Sirens. Screams. Metal on metal. Everyone around him seemed to be moving in slow motion around him. Two hands suddenly grabbed his face, turning his head gently until a familiar face, his own face, caught his gaze. “Stiles, breathe,” Void urged, his raspy voice steady as he firmly kept Stiles’ identical eyes on himself. “Breathe with me, kit.”

Made for @foofsterroonie

Stiles/Void is my second favorite Stiles ship, so I was very excited to get the opportunity to write this! They were so much fun to play with.

Yes, I got the title from Dark Horse by Katy Perry. That song just works so well for this couple, and I couldn't think of a better title, lmao

~*~*~*~

“Breathe.”

His whole body was buzzing; his brain felt staticky. Stiles bit his lip to test how that felt.

It hurt. A lot actually…

Wait, that’s good right?

“Stiles!”

Everything was muffled and loud at the same time. Sirens. Screams. Metal on metal. Everyone around him seemed to be moving in slow motion around him.

Two hands suddenly grabbed his face, turning his head gently until a familiar face, his own face, caught his gaze.

“Stiles, breathe,” Void urged, his raspy voice steady as he firmly kept Stiles’ identical eyes on himself. “Breathe with me, kit.”

They breathed together as Stiles imitated Void’s slow deep breaths until slowly, bit by bit, Stiles started to feel more normal.

It had all started with a sudden, intense wave of emotion. The anxiety had built up, a pressure cooker ready to burst.

Without warning, a massive shockwave erupted from Stiles, radiating outwards. Void was there in an instant, his presence a calming anchor in the storm.

The shockwave had left a trail of destruction in its wake: overturned cars, shattered windows, and uprooted trees. The air crackled with residual energy, the remnants of Stiles’ unleashed power.

Void’s grip on Stiles’ face softened, one hand sliding down to his shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern etched into his features as the thumb on the hand still cradling Stiles’ face caressed his jaw.

Stiles nodded slowly, still trying to catch his breath. “I-I think so. What happened?”

“You lost control,” Void replied, glancing around at the devastation surrounding them. “Your powers…your spark. You’ve finally awakened it.”

Stiles swallowed hard, the reality of the situation sinking in.

He hadn’t really thought of his supposed spark in years.

“I didn’t know it could do this,” Stiles muttered, looking around at the chaos he had unintentionally caused.

Void’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “I knew your spark had the potential to be powerful. It’s a part of why I originally chose you, kit.”

Stiles took a deep breath, trying to steady himself further. "I...I need to learn how to control it."

"You will," Void said resolutely, not a hint of doubt in his eyes as he released his grip on Stiles. “Can you stand?”

Stiles nodded.

Void swiftly rose to his feet. “Come on,” he said, reaching down to help Stiles up. “We need to get you out of here. Now.”

[continue reading on ao3]

[honourablejester]

Heart: The City Beneath - Quick Class Impressions

Cleaver: This place is a world of eldritch flesh and eldritch blood, and you’re the sort of person who learns by eating. Quite literally. A methodology that can, if you choose, also be applied to people. Taste the flesh, taste the world. This is a delightfully tactile survivalist class that gains skills and power by getting squishy about it.

Deadwalker: What more perfect dance partner could there be for a thief and a killer than the sentient shadow of their own delayed death? Heaven and hell are mere vaults before the right fingers, and your death loves you, so why not? If you want to play a metaphysical sort of rogue, this is the class for you.

Deep Apiarist: The chaos of this world is a sensory hell, so you drowned it out by allowing eldritch bees to make a living hive of your body. Because that’s a thing sane people do. But you are now glitteringly sane, owing to the order-inducing abilities of said eldritch bees, so … a successful experiment? Honestly, this is my second favourite class.

Heretic: Yours is a heretic faith, a faith that would get you killed in places that are not here, a faith not in the moon above but the moon below, but her silver light guides your hands regardless. There’s a definite inquisitorial, Bloodborne-type hunter sort of vibe to these priests. The damnic virtues are a little bit on the intense side. But I can vibe with that.

Hound: Once upon a time, an unlucky few, three hundred, were sent to die so others wouldn’t have to, and did something dreadful to survive. Now, they can never die, and their curse echoes down to all who bear their standards. But you were always unlucky anyway, and someone still needs to do it so others don’t have to. Do you want to play a cursed WWI soldier possessed by the genius loci of the trenches, forever standing your ground for the sake of others? I love the lore here.

Incarnadine: You were so fucking good at being perpetually in debt that you drew the attention of the god of being in debt, and they wiped your old life clean in psychic balance. Now you bear their mark, and your life is a razored game of balancing costs, but it’s not without its rewards. I’m not entirely sure of the lure of playing a rank on the totem pole of metaphysical loan sharks myself, but you do get to buy and trade in reality while you’re at it?

Junk Mage: You’re a high energy junkie on the bleeding edge of magic, stealing slivers of power from the many eldritch beings that live in the City Beneath. You’re mad, of course, but what’s life without a little madness? I get a lot of PF2e’s thaumaturge from these guys. Also warlocks, obviously. Junkyard magic, begged, borrowed and stolen, but it’ll burn you out eventually. They’re itchy and I like them.

Vermissian Knight: The train system was plugged into the heart of the eldritch beating thing that is this place, and immediately broke reality, and now you, armoured in scraps of eldritch train steel, must explore and stand guard over what remains. Far and away my favourite class. I love them.

Witch: The Heart gets in your blood, oh, so very literally, and courses its power through your body like a disease. Exactly like a disease. But oh, you are a blood-red, beautiful thing in the process. Something between a witch and a werewolf, if you want a class that lets you plug yourself directly and physically into the eldritch vibes of the setting, the witch might be the choice for you!

Overall, the Incarnadine is the one that pings for me the least. My personal top three are Vermissian Knight, the Deep Apiarist, and the Cleaver.

Also, side note, there is so much body horror in this game. I’m vibing with it, but my sister was quite distressed by the Deep Apiarist in general, and a couple of the Cleaver’s abilities as well. This is a squishy, squelching, writhing sort of game. (Or, well, it can be. If you have a party of Heretics, Vermissian Knights and Deadwalkers, it might lean more grey and desolate and technological. But if you’ve got Witches, Apiarists and Cleavers, it’s gonna get messy).

[thenerdyindividual]

Ship ranking?? Uhhhh I want in!

The most random ships I have:

Mithian / Vivian, Mithian could turn out to be the one to free Vivian from the enchantment and make her into a better person!

Hunith /Uther or Ygraine / Balinor or Hunith /Ygraine etc etc. All the combinations

Gwaine / Elena I just think they're neat. They both have chaos energy. Plus, Elena's Father seems like a chill guy who would accept a peasant (who isn't actually a peasant huhhhhhhh)

Hear me out... Finna / Alator.

Nimueh / Freya

Julius Borden / Will

I swear I am not throwing these name out randomly there's a thought process behind it

Like Nimueh is of the old religion, so maybe she finds Freya after death in Avalon. And Freya being the kind soul she is can help her heal and grow out of her hatred.

And for Julius and Will... Picture a world where Will didn't die. And now everyone thinks he is a sorcerer. Julius hears rumours of the son of the last dragon lord living in Ealdor. So he goes there and he assumes it's Will, and Will just agrees to cover for Merlin, so he has to fake being a Dragon lord until the letter he sent reaches Merlin to warn him and to idk get help? But huh huh they actually fall in love.

Okay! There’s a lot here and I’m going to unpack all of them! This is fun!

Mithian / Vivian

I’m in favor of lesbian queens ruling a kingdom together, but also I like Mithian and feel she deserves better than Vivian. And I really dislike Vivian because she was mean to Gwen and I adore Gwen. I’m just not that interested in Vivian’s character, personally. I think Mithian, Gwen, and Morgana are all more interesting in her. So for that reason I rank it:

E-Tier

Hunith /Uther

No. Just no. Okay I know Uther was probably not always a genocidal maniac, but to quote Brennan Lee Mulligan “Before you were a fascist, you were a bully.” I think Hunith deserves to get her needs met by someone who would not one day gleefully send her son to the pyre. I rank this ship:

E-Tier

Ygraine / Balinor

Ohhhhh now this has some interesting vibes. Does Ygraine have a romance with Balinor before meeting Uther? Does she find out that Uther cheated on her, and got revenge on Balinor? Was it both? Does that mean that Uther and Ygraine were an arranged marriage? If so that makes Uther and even bigger hypocrite by using her death to justify his hatred.

For sheer implications and intrigue, I rank this:

C-Tier

Hunith /Ygraine

Ooooo a parallel to Arthur and Merlin, hell yes. I’m in favor of more sapphic romances in this fandom, and this could be fun. But also I now want an extremely cracky one shot where Merlin and Arthur are dating and introduce their moms, only for their moms to start hooking up, much to the horror of Merlin and Arthur.

I rank this:

C-Tier

Gwaine / Elena

I see this one a lot in the background of fics and I’m never much of a fan. It’s just a little too quirky for me. Like I’m sure there’s a fic out there that could get me to ship it, but most of the time it feels like people just want to ship the chaotic one with the chaotic one. It rarely feels thought out to me, and often feels like shoehorning it in because everyone needs to be a couple.

That said, it’s never enough to make me click away from a fic. And I could see how I would enjoy it if there was more time and thought put into their relationship. I mean, Gwaine is wandering rogue pre season 4. Chances are he ended up in Gawant at some point right?

I rank it:

C-Tier

For the potential

Finna / Alator

Tbh? In my soul, this is canon.

B-Tier

Nimueh / Freya

I just feel like Nimueh would trigger Freya. Super powerful, super scary, witch lady? After Freya got cursed dating Nimueh would just set Freya up to be terrified all the time. I don’t vibe with it. Also I think Freya has been through enough and doesn’t need to be fixing Nimueh.

I rank it:

D-Tier

Julius Borden / Will

Here’s the thing, I love Borden as a character but I like to make him Merlin’s shitty ex. I know the go to is Cenred, but he has way more chemistry with Borden.

So as far as shipping him with Will? Idk man. I’d maybe be tempted to read the fic you described because it sounds fun as hell, but Borden is just such a fun scummy piece of shit that I don’t ship him seriously with anyone. So without reading that fic, going on vibes alone…. I rank it:

D-Tier

Send me a Merlin Ship and I’ll rank it on a tier list. Note: This is a subjective ranking and a low ranking in no way means that I am shaming you for your taste in ships.

[ashspecter]

Fate Deals in Bad Luck;

@aggressivelyClueless's prompt:  Backstory: pick your favorite ghost and flesh out their history a little. How did they die? What do they miss most about being alive? @bloggerspam's prompt: Danny and Ellie Parent Trap a Fighting/Divorced Johnny and Kitty

Summary: In another attempt to gain everything he lost back in college, Vlad tries to steal Clockwork’s staff, unknowing of the lesson the Master of Time already had planned for him.

Warnings: N/A

Words: 1,462

Danny squints against the setting orange sun as he watches the heavy, low-hanging mist settle over the crossroads of Highway 36 and Route 13. It’s almost time.

He glances at Ellie who seems to vibrate out of pure, incessant excitement. He rolls his eyes at her, feeling the soreness of last week’s bruises and scrapes that Johnny and his shadow had given him; since fighting with Kitty, the ghost has been nothing but a pain for Danny to deal with. Bad luck here, bad luck there. A light falls, the world almost ends. 

Which is why they need to do this tonight.

Danny sighs, rubbing his temples in frustration. The weight of their mission presses down on him like a lead blanket. He knows they have to put an end to this destruction and chaos, but he can’t shake the fatigue that seems to hang over him.

He glances at Ellie, her energy seems boundless, almost electric. She’s oblivious to the toll their encounters with Johnny and Kitty have taken on Danny. Her enthusiasm is infectious, but Danny can’t help feeling a pang of resentment toward her carefree demeanor.

But that’s beside the point right now.

He turns his gaze back to the mist to see it fully blanketing the intersection. It’s time to act.

Ellie tugs at the strap of her backpack, pulling out a carefully folded map and a string of fairy lights. She hands the map to Danny with a wide grin before zipping off to hang the lights in the two trees.

Unlike other intersections in the state, this one always seemed to draw in Johnny and Kitty. It wasn’t until Danny had asked his mom and done some research on his own that he learned that the couple had met their tragic end in a horrific car accident twenty-five years ago.

As Danny unfolds the map, his fingers trace the faded lines, each crease telling a story of previous journeys. He glances at Ellie, who’s now skipping around, weaving the fairy lights through the branches with a childlike glee. Despite the gravity of their task, her spirit remains untouched by the weight of the past.

Danny takes a deep breath, trying to summon the same fervor that seems to come so effortlessly to Ellie. He studies the map, memorizing every detail, every curve, and every intersection. They have one shot at this, one chance to set things right. They need this to go right.

“This should do the trick,” Ellie grins, her eyes alight with mischief as she lands beside Danny.

Danny studies the hanging light before glancing at his watch, “It’s almost sundown. How much more do we got left?”

“Not much!” Ellie replies bouncing on her toes. She jumps over to her backpack again and pulls out Jazz’s boombox radio.

“Did Jazz let you take that?” Danny questions.

“She won’t miss it for a little while,” Ellie replies and pulls out an extension cord.

“How do you plan on powering it?”

“You.”

He blinks, “Right.”

The plan is simple: lure Johnny and Kitty to the crossroads under the guise of unresolved spectral phenomena— something both of them can never resist investigating, especially when it is located at their Passing Place. Danny and Ellie have gone to great lengths to spread rumors about a mysterious energy spike at the intersection through the ghostly grapevine. Now, all they need is for the two specters to take the bait.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ground, Ellie plugs the lights the fairy lights into the extension cord and shoves one end of it into Danny’s hand, earning a mildly perturbed glare from the older boy. However, the lights spark to life and twinkle like distant stars, setting the mood the two had been looking for.

Danny glances at his watch again and grins, “Showtime.”

Right on cue, the sound of a motorcycle’s engine grows louder, echoing over the abandoned highway like roaring thunder. Johnny, always the show-off, arrives first on his phantom motorcycle, the wheels a blur of otherworldly energy. His leather jacket and carefree smirk are in stark contrast to the somber mood at the crossroads.

Kitty seems to materialize moments later, stepping out from the mist. Her expression is less than enthusiastic and it only seems to sour further when her eyes land on Johnny.

Danny and Ellie exchange a glance, then quickly and quietly retreat behind a nearby tree, watching the scene unfold.

“What’s the big mystery then?” The green-haired female questions, studying the area.

Johnny, leaning against his bike, shrugs, “Heard it might be something big. Couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“Like you could,” Kitty retorts, placing a hand on her hip.

The air between Johnny and Kitty crackles with a familiar tension, a mix of old grievances and undeniable attraction. As the on-again, off-again couple continues to glare at each other, Danny and Ellie hold their breath, watching the interaction between the two ghosts unfold, knowing that their plan hinges on keeping Johnny and Kitty distracted long enough for the next phase to commence.

“We need them to remember why they fell for each other in the first place,” Ellie murmurs to Danny.

“And not just focus on the bickering,” Danny adds, nodding.

“Right,” Ellie whispers, turning invisible, “I’m gonna turn on the music.”

Danny stays hidden behind the tree, his heart pounding in anticipation as he listens to the soft rustle of leaves under Ellie’s feet.

As Ellie reaches the boombox, she flicks it on with a deft movement, and the soft strains of an old love song fills the air.

The music, nostalgic and haunting, seems to weave its way through the mist, wrapping around the bickering couple like a gentle embrace. Johnny’s eyes widen in surprise at the familiar melody, and for a brief moment, the hardness in his expression softens. Kitty’s gaze softens too, her shoulders relaxing as the memories of happier times flood back.

“I remember this song,” Johnny says softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Kitty nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, “Yeah, we used to dance to it all the time.”

The tension between them dissipates, replaced by a bittersweet nostalgia as they share a moment of silent remembrance. Watching from their hiding spot, Danny and Ellie exchange a triumphant grin. It’s working!

“Well hold on, is this a date?” Kitty questions, finally noticing the fairy lights.

Johnny follows her gaze, his playboy smirk softening into a hesitant smile. “Maybe it is,” He says, a playful edge to his voice, “What do you think?”

Kitty’s expression flickers, caught between annoyance and amusement. “It’s… cute,” She concedes reluctantly, her eyes tracing the warm glow of the lights. “Kind of romantic, actually.”

Danny and Ellie watch with bated breath from their hiding spot. This is the moment they’ve been waiting for— a crack in the constant arguing— a chance for the old sparks to fly again. The younger of the two nudges the other as she rejoins his side.

“Let’s make it more obvious,” Ellie whispers, and without another word, she sucks in a breath and blows it out, causing a breeze, cold, even by ghost standards.

The sudden chill sweeps through the crossroads, stirring the mist and sending a shiver down Kitty’s spine. She instinctively moves closer to Johnny, seeking warmth in his presence. And Johnny, ever the opportunist, wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

As they huddle together, the tension between them seems to melt away, replaced by a warmth that Danny and Ellie can practically feel radiating from the couple. It’s a small victory, but it’s enough to give them hope that their plan might actually work.

The atmosphere around the crossroads shifts, the mist swirling gently around Johnny and Kitty as they stand together, enveloped in the soft glow of the fairy lights. For a moment, time seems to stand still as they gaze into each other’s eyes, lost in the memories of their shared past.

“Did you plan this?” Kitty asks.

Johnny shakes his head, a genuine smile softening his features, “No, I didn't. Did you?”

Kitty chuckles, a hint of blush rising to her cheeks, “Of course not. But… I’m glad it happened.”

The two halfas exchange a triumphant glance. This is it! They did it!

As the mist swirls gently around them, Johnny and Kitty stand in the middle of the crossroads, their gazes locked in a tender embrace. The air now crackles with a different kind of energy that speaks of reconciliation and understanding rather than conflict and discord.

Danny and Ellie share a silent nod of satisfaction. Hopefully, there won’t be any more chaos and bad luck in Amity Park for a while.