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sequinsmile-x · 1 year

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Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Four

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: References to abortion, but it is never mentioned explicitly. Mentions of canon-typical violence

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along

-x-

Thanks so much for the love so far on this story, I'm so glad you're all enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it!!

-x-

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

March 2009

It was freezing cold.

Emily finds herself standing in front of the church, snow falling around her, like drops of paint across a canvas as it sticks to her dark hair and her coat. In any other circumstances, she’d think it was beautiful, but this was anything but. It felt like ash, the remnants of the life she had known before she was 15, lonely and desperate for affection, finally on display for everyone to see.

She closes her eyes, and feels a stray tear slip down her cheek, burning hot in comparison to the snow around her.

The irony of John being able to walk away for a second time wasn’t lost on her. She’d forgiven him a long time ago for what had happened when they were kids. He’d been young too, and he had the ability to walk away from the consequences of his actions with no repercussions. She knew she would have done the same if she could have.

It felt wrong that Matthew, arguably the better person out of the three of them, had been the one to pay the ultimate price.

She sighs as she thinks about Aaron, about how this case had come between them because she’d let it. Ignoring his professional advice and his personal concern, a fine line to walk as both her boss and her boyfriend. He’d been right to tell her to back off, she knew it at the time which made her all the angrier at him.

He knew about Rome. She’d told him not long after they first got together, a secret she willingly shared with him along with all of her others. Afterwards, she’d felt shame for worrying about his reaction, a small part of her worrying he’d judge her for it. But he hadn’t. He’d simply held her close, and apologised for things he had no role in, whispers that she deserved better against her skin.

She has no idea how much time has passed, how long she’s been standing there in the freezing cold, the snow falling around her, when she hears him approach. She’d recognise his footsteps anywhere, even crunching against the heavy snow on the sidewalk.

Aaron places his hand on her shoulder, grimacing at the damp material of her coat, and the white flecks in her hair. He chastises himself for not finding her sooner, for giving her the space he knew she needed.

“Em,” he starts, and she turns to look at him, his eyes widening as he catches sight of the red streaked below her nose. Stark and bright against her pale skin. “You’re bleeding.”

She lets him hold her face in place as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a tissue he kept in there. He always had a packet with him, a side effect of being the parent of a toddler. She looks back at the church, just about able to feel the gentle way he wipes at her skin.

“I’ve always loved stained glass windows,” she says idly, as if he hadn’t spoken, “even then back in Rome when…when everything happened. I’d sit in church and just stare at them.”

“They are beautiful,” he replies without even looking up, all of his focus on her.

“It’s not just that,” she says, looking back at him, her eyes shining, “they have to be broken to be that beautiful. Cut into pieces before they are put back together, somehow better than they looked before.”

He sighs, pocketing the tissue before he reaches out for her hands, desperate to warm her up.

“You aren’t broken, sweetheart.”

Her lips twitch in a half smile, unsurprised that he’d read between the lines, always able to hear what she hadn’t said. He was the only person who’d truly cared enough to look past her carefully constructed words, always seeking out what lay beneath. She doesn’t know what to say, how to get across what she wants to, so she grasps his hand instead, her fingers stiff from the cold.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes searching his, “I know I made this difficult for you,” he shakes his head to disagree with her but she holds his hand tighter, “Don’t say it’s ok, it isn’t. I was sad and scared. And I took it out on you because I love you, and that’s not fair. You were just doing your job.”

“And you were doing yours,” he says, pulling her into him as he wraps his arm around her shoulder, “it doesn’t matter right now, love, ok? Let’s get you home and warmed up, everything else can wait until tomorrow.”

She nods and lets him lead her towards his parked car. It’s only when they are halfway to his apartment she realises she didn’t ask where he meant by ‘home,’ aware that it simply meant wherever he was.

___

He showers with her, enduring the water he usually finds too hot in the hopes it warms her up, not missing the slight shiver that kept passing over her skin or the way she shook in his arms. He gives her his warmest sweater and sweatpants to wear and the second they are under the covers in his bed he pulls her as close as he can, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, as he presses his lips to her hairline and his hand drifts under the sweater she was wearing, his skin scolding against hers.

“No,” she says quickly before sighing, “Yes. I don’t know.”

“That’s ok,” he replies, shifting her even closer so she was laying on top of him, his arms tight around her back, “I’m here for whatever you want. To listen. To distract you. To be the world's most uncomfortable mattress.”

She laughs, but it’s strained, her hand shifting so her fingers drift under the neckline of his shirt, her skin still slightly cold to the touch.

“I’ll have you know you’re the most comfortable mattress I’ve ever slept on,” she replies, and her smile slips off her face. “I…” she starts, unsure what she wants to say, and she’s grateful he stays silent, that his only response is to rub circles on her back, as if he could ease the words out of her, “I feel like I’ve let Matthew down. He saved me, back then, and I couldn’t do the same for him.”

“Sweetheart,” he says, kissing the top of her head again, “You didn’t let him down. You got him justice. That’s the best thing you could give him.”

“You got him justice,” she replies, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin, “You called the Vatican.”

“Well, I did that for you,” he replies as if it hadn’t meant everything, like it was something that people did every day, “So really, it’s still your victory.”

She sits up just enough to look at him, her palm flat against his chest, “Why don’t we just agree to share it?”

He smiles, reaching out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. “Just like everything else?”

She feels warmth spark in her chest for the first time in days, love for him threatening to burn her from the inside out. Somehow, in amongst all of the death and horror that they faced every day at work she had found him. A man she never anticipated who was able to help her find joy in the most unexpected of places.

“Sounds good to me,” she replies, laying her head back on his chest, her forehead pressing into his neck, “You’re stuck with me now though,” she comments, a smile flicking across her face, “No one is ever going to top calling the Vatican.”

“Sounds good to me,” he says, repeating her words back to her as he tries to press his love directly into her skin, to make sure she never forgot how precious she was to him.

They lapse into silence, content to snuggle together in bed, sharing his body warmth. He thinks she’s fallen asleep, until she speaks, her words quiet in the safety of his bedroom.

“I’ve always known I’ve wanted kids, even then,” she says, tilting her head to look up at him, “Something about wanting to do better than what I had,” she smiles sadly, “To finally have somewhere to call home, but…the timing couldn’t have been more wrong.”

“You were still a kid yourself, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, “You did the best thing you could for you.”

She nods, knowing he was right. Her sadness didn’t come from the regret of the choices she’d made, but from now, as an adult, understanding what had led to them.

“I’d still like them…one day,” she says carefully, flashing him a nervous smile, “If I find someone who wants them with me.”

“Is this your way of asking if I’ll knock you up?” He asks, the first bit of levity entering their conversation for the first time in days, a wicked smile on his face as she rolls her eyes at him before she presses her face into his t-shirt to hide how her cheeks start to flush pink, “Because I’ll happily do it, I think we should just wait until your body temperature is somewhere near normal.”

“Asshole,” she mutters under her breath affectionately, chuckling lightly as he squeezes her a little tighter. She looks up at him again, biting her lower lip as she tries to stop her smile from spreading any further, “I didn’t know you wanted more kids.”

He sighs as he considers his answer, moving one of his hands to cup her face, his thumb delicate against her cheek.

“Haley and I always talked about having more, but it took a long time for us to conceive Jack. And by the time we could have talked about having any more afterwards…”

He drifts off, and she turns her head to kiss his palm, “It was already over,” she finishes for him.

“Yeah, it was,” he smiles sadly, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “But somewhere down the line, when it’s right, I’d love to make Jack a big brother. A kid that's half you and half me would possibly be the most stubborn person on the planet,” he says, smiling as she joins in on her laughter, not missing the way her eyes shine with something close to hope, “But they’ll be half you, so they’ll be perfect.”

“You say the sweetest shit sometimes,” she replies, “I’d say it’s a shame that no one would ever believe me, but I quite like having this version of you to myself.”

He pulls her closer so he can kiss her, stamping his lips against her twice for good measure.

“We should get some sleep,” he says, and she nods, laying back down as he reaches for the lamp on his nightstand to turn it off. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“I love you too.”

___

It’s only a week later when Emily watches Aaron struggle as the Reaper taunts them, always one step ahead as they fail to catch him. The decade he’d had to plan this spree enough to make it feel like it was impossible, that they’d never find him.

She’d watched the brief regret flash across his face as Aaron hung up on him in their hotel room, refusing to take the deal Shaunnessy had years before, followed by the anger that overtook him they got the phone call about the murders on the bus.

They are the first from the team to make it to the scene, the smell of blood still in the air, the metal tang catching at the back of her throat.

“Arthur Lanessa’s wedding ring,” he says pulling her out of her thoughts, of how her mind was racing in an attempt to figure out whatever the hell they were going to do next.

“What did he take?” Emily asks, looking around to see if the answer was obvious.”

“Does it matter,” he replies, his tone harsher than it would usually be when it was just the two of them, and he walks off, exiting the bus before she can say anything.

“Aaron,” she says, following him, almost having to jog to keep up with him as he walks into an alley, his hand against his forehead. She catches up with him, her hand on his arm as he turns to look at her, “What’s going on?”

“I should have taken the deal.”

She frowns at him, her eyebrows knitting together as she tightens her hold on his arm, “What are you talking about?”

“I shouldn’t have hung up on him,” he shakes his head at himself, his anger at his actions from earlier clear, “I hung up on him and he did this.”

She sighs, shaking her head at him, realisation sinking in, almost physically weighing her down “And you think this is your fault?”

He looks back towards the street, the bus where six people lost their lives just visible from where they were standing, and his eyes fill with tears. He struggles with his words for a moment, something she’d never seen before, and she feels tears press at the back of her eyes too, his sadness her Achilles heel, just as hers was his.

“It is.” He says simply, his voice shaking ever so slightly, and she closes her eyes, gives herself a brief moment to centre herself before she steps forward, completely disregarding the line they drew between professional and personal as she cups his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

“It is not your fault,” she says firmly, holding his head in place, “The only person to blame is the man who did this, not you.”

“I should have…” he trails off, closing his eyes and leaning forward, his forehead against hers.

“You should have what? Taken a deal that would have haunted you for the rest of your life? That’s not your style, and it certainly wouldn’t make you the man I love.”

He pulls back and looks at her, his jaw tight, and she watches as he considers her words before he briefly nods.

“Ok.” He says, his voice stern again.

“Ok?” She repeats back to him, flashing him a reassuring smile and he nods, “Good,” she leans forward and kisses his forehead before stepping back, putting a professional distance between them again, “We will catch him, Aaron. He won’t always be one step ahead, he’ll make a mistake at some point.”

He nods, offering her a tight smile before she turns and leads them out of the alley. As soon as she’s not looking at him his smile slips from his face, left on the ground, discarded with as little care as the Reaper showed his victims.

Aaron wishes with every part of him that he could believe her, but something told him that the Reaper wasn’t done with them yet.

___

May 2009

Emily knocks on his office door, smiling softly when he looks up, his exhaustion clear.

“Everyone else has gone home,” she says, “I thought we could get going too.”

He looks down at the case file in front of him before looking back up at his girlfriend, “Why don’t you go ahead, sweetheart, meet me at mine? I just need another hour or so.”

She sighs as she walks across his office, “Aaron, honey, whatever you’re working on can wait until…” she drifts off as she catches sight of what he’s looking at, frowning as she reaches his side, “The Foyet case?”

He closes his eyes, blowing out a breath as he realises he’s been caught out, “I’m just looking over them again.”

She crosses her arms over her chest and looks down at him as she leans against his desk with her hip. She tries to contain her frustration, biting her lip to hold her words back until she can make sure they are more measured. They’d spoken about this at length for the last few months, his obsession with the case worrying her, the burden he didn’t need to bear clear whenever Foyet was mentioned, or they saw his face on the news.

“Do you have anything new?” She asks, her voice more clipped than she intends, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No, Emily, I don’t. But-”

“No buts,” she says as she stands up straight again, closing the file as she does. She doesn’t miss the annoyance that flashes across his face, a look thrown at her that she hadn’t seen sent in her direction since the early days when he did not trust her, “If there is nothing new this can wait.”

“Now hang on a minute-”

“No,” she snaps, blowing out a slow breath so she can calm down, “I’m not having this, Aaron. You’re going to make yourself sick and I refuse to stand by and let that happen.”

“I am your boss,” he says, his voice still stern.

“Not right now you’re not. Right now you’re my pig-headed boyfriend who is taking the blame for something he has no responsibility for,” she licks her lower lip as she looks at him, hoping he doesn’t catch how it shakes, “I’m worried about you, honey,” she says, “I feel like I might lose you to this.”

Any frustration he feels towards her melts away immediately, “Oh Em, no, you won’t,” he says, shifting backwards on his chair to make some room between him and his desk. She obeys the wordless request, slipping into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck, “You won’t lose me,” he assures her, securing her to him.

“You can’t promise me that,” she replies, smiling sadly at him, her eyes shining, “Especially if you keep chasing this ghost by yourself,” she pushes her hand through his hair, “We do this kind of thing as a team.”

He nods in response, “Ok, Em. I promise.”

“We’ll get him, Aaron,” she says, repeating the same thing she had in the months that had passed since she’d first said in the alley next to the bus that still haunted his nightmares, “He’ll slip up, and we’ll get him,” her lip twitches in a smile, “And I’ll shoot the bastard myself if I have to.”

He chuckles at that, the sound catching in his chest, sticking to the inside of his ribs. It isn’t the laugh she loves, the one that could get her through anything, but it’s something.

“We should go to yours,” she says, leaning her forehead against his, “That way we can finish packing in the morning.”

“In a minute,” he replies, holding her tighter, pressing his lips to hers.

“Ok,” she smiles at him, “In a minute.”

They sit there, curled up in each other's arms, taking the comfort that they both need, until he smiles against her skin, pulling back to look at her.

“Did you call me pig-headed?”

She scrunches her nose up as she nods, holding back a small laugh, “Admittedly, it’s probably not the best thing to have said given the case we just came back from.”

He shakes his head at her, laughing properly this time, and she feels light for the first time since they stepped foot onto the plane to Canada.

It’s something she’s grateful for in the days to come.

-x-

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#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction

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darkangel1791 · 2 months

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This is sort of a rant. I have nowhere to express this but here. It's about a content creator who does little skits with their cats, who I have to stop following. Trigger Warning: discussion of religion.

I saw a random video from this Content Creator (from now on known as CC) about 2 years ago, I thought it was hilarious, I loved it and watched a lot more of the videos and followed them.

CC posted a serious video in which they told some of their life story. The relevant part is that they were raised in an extremely strict religion, started rebelling against the rules in middle school (ages 10 to 13), for instance, as a female in that religion, they were only allowed to wear dresses and skirts. So they bought jeans and changed into them at school then changed back after school, so that their parents would not know that they were wearing jeans. Then they married at 17 and broke other rules of the religion; cut their hair, wore make-up, stopped going to church, got tattoos, etc. And they felt very happy and free. This wasn't the main theme of the video, but it was part of it. It really touched me and I said so in the comments.

They began having a terrible problem with imposter accounts over a year ago. They were popping up everywhere, stealing content, and CC could not get them removed from the platforms they were on. This situation got worse, CC hired a lawyer, copyrighted their name and logo, still nothing really helped and this was costing CC a lot of money and causing them a lot of stress. They say it was all they could think about.

A year ago, CC announced that they would no longer swear in their videos. That was fine with me, to each their own, I was sure the vids would still be funny.

A few months ago CC announced that some major things that were part of the cats' 'personalities' were going to change. That was kind of concerning, but I thought I would just keep following and see how the videos were.

Today, CC posted a video explaining the changes more thoroughly and announcing some life changes that they had gone through.

The imposter accounts were really very upsetting, to the point where it became a crisis of faith. Other things happened but the final outcome was that they felt God was testing them. So they rejoined the restrictive religion they were raised in. They threw out all of the previous merch that had "unholy" sayings on it. They threw out everything that they had bought at garage sales or antique stores (because they didn't know where it had come from?). They rejoined a church of that religion. And now they are going to stop wearing make-up, stop cutting their hair, wear dresses and skirts, and they regret having gotten tattoos. They are going to stop listening to any music that is not Christian or gospel (that will also affect the 'personality' of one of the cats).

They said that after they did all of that and started attending church again, their cats started getting sick, because 'after you go back to God the devil will really go after you', that's not an exact quote but something like that.

Now, I don't understand, logically, why God wouldn't help with the imposter accounts, because that was a test, but their cats getting sick was because of the devil, who is doing it because they are religious now? And, God still hasn't done anything about the imposter accounts, though it seems they have passed the test?

So is it God or the devil who is causing negative things in their life? Why would God allow the devil to attack innocent cats and make them sick? The cats have been sick before, is that because they got their hair cut or were wearing jeans? Because they weren't religious yet, so it wasn't the devil then, right? If this decision makes CC happy, I'm glad, and what they do does not affect my life, I am not criticizing their decision. But I sincerely do not understand how this works, or what one thing has to do with another.

I would love to be able to ask them these questions, but I don't want them to feel attacked, and there will be others expressing the same sentiment to them, though probably not as politely as I would. Also, their answers would certainly not make any more sense to me than all of this does in the first place. They have their own rationale, they've made their decision, it makes sense to them and this is it.

So the reason that I am sad, and have to stop following them, is because when I see them with their new look, I see a person who has decided to live their life in fear, not in joy. Apparently, they are happy with their new life, and if so, good for them. But to me, they have built walls around themself of restrictive rules, because they think it will protect them from the outside world, or get God's attention, so that God will protect them, but it hasn't seemed to protect them from anything. I will miss them and their cats. But I can't help what I see and how it makes me feel, and I just can't watch that go on.

If you've read this, thanks so much for doing so! Anything like this ever happened to you?

#personal #have to stop following a certain account #religion #restrictive religion #God and the devil #so confused #i will miss them and their cats

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meatmensch · 1 year

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I read May His Memory Be A Blessing months ago and commented then, but I'm still thinking about rabbi Miriam and what a brilliant character she is. Especially in her POV, just seeing her thought process is so interesting. She's so full of wonder and love, exactly the kind of person I'd expect to be a rabbi. No real point to this just saying thanks for this woman I think about now and then

Awe, thank you so much! Because May His Mem Be a Bless was one of the first fics I published, it's sad, and it's Jewish, it hasn't gotten at much attention as some of my other fics. It's the one I feel to be the most artistic though, haha. So, anyway, I really appreciate comments and messages like these!

I'm glad you like the character of Rabbi Miriam! The whole idea for the fic was born because I thought it'd be interesting for Dean to express his genuine, personal anger with God to an atheist, who is a religious leader. My original thought was to make him be in a church alone, just sobbing/screaming at the idols, and a pastor's like, "You good?" Then I remembered I don't really know what church or pastors are like, lmao. And, the concept of an atheist rabbi made more sense to me than an atheist pastor. From there, I just tried to make her loving, quirky, bold, passionate, wise, and helpful.

Some more Rabbi Miriam tidbits that (for now) only exist in my brain:

She plays the fiddle

Her wife is a fat Black Jewish woman who's a mechanic and owns/runs her own garage. They met at community college when they both went back to school to take a class for fun

Their son Dudi's adopted, trans, bi. DOES TRY to hit on Dean when they first meet, but then Miriam's like, "Young man WHAT are you doing? This is my friend the widower with the recently revived husband I've been telling you about." "Oh SHIT, sorry y'all. Hey Dean, good to finally meet you!"

She drinks a lot of Manischewitz which Dean clowns on her for cuz "Rabbi it's WINE. If you're going to drink, have a real drink, like beer" "Dean that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard" "And it's so sweet! You'll be pissing corn syrup!" "What I piss is none of your business"

She has a sister. That sister has a husband and 2 kids. Dean dated one of them in high school. Yes, Lenny Cortez. Neither Dean nor Rabbi Miriam have realized this connection yet

She and Sam aren't as tight as her and Dean, but they do love to hang out and talk about literature

Her and her wife both grew up with Yiddish speaking grandparents but they didn't retain much. When they got together they decided to relearn Yiddish together. Their son's a native speaker

She did a lot of peyote back in the day

Her and her wife have EXTENSIVE record and book collections. Just walls of them

#i hope u do not mind how i went off here #spn #my posts #my art and writing #mail #jupernatural

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caffeinated-chaos-bean · 6 months

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youtube

"Oh, come on, Jotaro!!"

"Tch, I said absolutely NOT!!"

The blonde gritted his teeth, the small vampiric fangs showing through. "Will you get over your damn feud just this once?!"

"Tch, fuck no!"

"Mn... Jotaro," an older voice chimed in. "Perhaps the young one has a point? It has been over two decades..."

The marine biologist shot his grandfather a glare before looking back to the teen mafioso. "Do you even understand the amount of chaos we went through because of your father?"

"I do." Giorno hissed. "But this isn't being asked for his sake, I'm asking for my mother. She set aside the one thing that's special for a woman and that's her special day, her very wedding!!"

"And that's her problem!!"

"Oi, what's the commotion about?" Josuke. He always had a bad habit of not paying attention until the noise got to loud for him to ignore. "Who's having a wedding??"

Giorno turned and gave the young adult an exhausted look. "Ah, buon giorno, Josuke. My apologies for disturbing you, I'm trying to get Jotaro to help with something I wish to surprise my mother with."

"But aren't Ads and Dio already married?"

Giorno sighed. "Yes, but they never had a proper wedding ceremony. Legally, it was done at home and Papa had a friend who pulled some strings with the church. Mama has never had the chance to wear a real wedding dress, nor enjoy that one special day."

Josuke raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting to his nephew. "And this is a problem... why?"

Jotaro glared at him. "Tch."

"Giorno, let's do it." Josuke encouraged. "Gramps, what's your take?"

Joseph rested a hand on his cane, looking at the two. "Dio may have been... er... that was his name, right? Well, no matter. When is this party?"

Giorno smirked at the only negative nancy in the room. "Better get your daughter a pretty little dress, she'll be the flower girl."

Jotaro's jaw clenched, resisting the urge to clock the kid. "I'll replace those flowers with knives."

"Good, it will make Papa glad to know you thought of his hobbies."

Jotaro groaned as he stood from his chair, storming from the room.

After months of planning, it was finally the day. All was set and ready, food choices precise, and music hand-picked by Josuke. Giorno has picked the loveliest dress for his mother, albeit was shocked when she had dyed it black. He knew, however, that she was excited and still a tad in shock that he'd put all of this together for her.

Of course, his father was in a more proper attire for a change, which was a shock to everyone as well. But knowing Dio, he did still add a personal flare to the attire with a red cape. Somehow, Giorno knew his father wouldn't be able to keep himself from being flamboyant in some manner... at least he ensured it would go nice when paired against his wife.

The ceremony was held in an old, stone cathedral that could hold plenty of guests. Lace drapery hung at the stained glass windows and everyone was dressed to impress.

"Ah, Giorno~" Adelaide cooed, taking her son's hands. "This party is wonderful. You didn't have to go to all this trouble, really!"

Giorno chuckled, eyes closed eyes smiling. "Of course I did, Mama. You never had your special day, and so you deserve this. Today is your day, no one can tell you otherwise."

The blonde woman was glowing, if that was even possible for a vampire. "Oh, my son, you are too sweet. I'm honestly surprised that you got Jotaro to even agree to be in attendance!"

Giorno huffed, although a smirk broke through. "It took a lot of convincing, I can assure you. That reminds me!"

"Yes?"

Giorno smiled wide. "Have you had your dance yet?"

Adelaide cocked her head slightly, not recognizing at first what her son was asking. "W-What? Oh! You mean...? I, uhm... N-No, I have not, You know your father isn't one for that, and with a crowd he'd be even less willing. Especially in front of Jotaro of all people."

The Don's brows furrowed. "You can't be serious? Mama, you can't let him rid you of that! That's a special moment for you! Just as special as this party!"The woman shook her head. "N-No no, it's okay, dear. Really, I--"

Her words were cut off when the music suddenly stopped, everyone's attention turning towards the front of the cathedral. There, Josuke stood in a fitting, purple suit that was complete with frilly white wrist cuffs. "Everyone, if I can divert your attention please!"

Adelaide raised a brow, leaning to whisper to her son. "Giorno, what is he doing?" The mafioso, however, had just as confused of a look as she did. "I have no idea..."

"Now, first off, let me thank all of your for coming. We know our families have had their differences, but to us all put them aside to give someone a once in a lifetime moment such as this is quite heartwarming." Josuke spoke, a sparkle in his eye. "Wouldn't you agree, Jotaro?"

"Tch." Jotaro didn't respond, all he did was roll his eyes at the comment.

"I knew you'd agree!" Josuke teased. "Now! We've all been having quite the time here, drinking and enjoying the food and company, but there's just one thing I can't help but notice was overlooked! Forgotten!!"

"Did I misplace my cane again?" Joseph stammered, looking around as everyone lightly laughed. "Huh?"

"No no, gramps, your cane is right there with you." Josuke chuckled. "What I'm talking about is something special, something that would be intimate and only for the bride and groom. What I speak of... is the bride's special dance."

Giorno's eyes widened in surprise. He'd noticed, as well? Well, he wasn't going to contest if the young man was going to take initiative. His attention was diverted when he heard his father's voice.

"....The hell are you on about?" Dio snarled, tapping his nail against the wine glass in his hand.

Giorno's gaze then fell upon his mother again. "Ah! G-Giorno!" Her tone was nervous and hushed, clearly worried. "G-Giorno, your father isn't going to agree to this!"

Josuke could see from the stage what was occurring with the bride and a strange look came upon his face. Was it confidence or a form of bravado? "Giorno. Bring your mother to the center, would you? Jotaro, you'll help, yes?"

Jotaro huffed. He wasn't going to budge at first, but then a smirk came over his face. He knew what Josuke was asking without having to get clarification. "Yare yare, daze..." The man stood and made his way to his old enemy's side.

"G-Giorno!" Adelaide stammered, her son gracefully leading her to the center of the room.

"H-Hey!! Get your hands off me!!" Dio protested as Jotaro began pushing Dio in the same direction, a devious grin on his face. "Shut up."

Adelaide and Dio stood awkwardly at the center of the room together, Jotaro returning to his seat and Giorno joining Josuke up on the stage.

"And now..." Josuke began. "May we present to you..."

"The bride..." Giorno chimed in. "...and groom's moment to shine."

With that, Giorno turned to Josuke and they both nodded. At this point, the two younger men were mentally in synch. They knew just the song to put on, even if it wasn't the most conventional choice.

Adelaide's eyes widened as a more upbeat tune began to play from the cathedral's speaker system that Narancia had set up. She turned and looked around, frozen at first. When she saw her husband's expression, however, she then smirked. Dio stood with his right side to her, arms folded and eyes closed, clearly irritated at their son's actions. Adelaide exchanged glances with both Giorno and Josuke before turning back to her husband, shoving him.

"H-Hey!!" Dio hissed. "What are you--!!" Adelaide backed away from him, a smirk on her face as she grabbed a corner of her skirt and began to lift it above her knee. Dio's eyes widened as well as Giorno's when the two watched the woman tear the fabric of her dress, taking it from floor length to her mid-thigh. If a dance is what her son wanted her to have with Dio, then a dance everyone would get.

"She's into superstition~" Giorno began to sing.

"Black cats and voodoo dolls~" Josuke followed up, taking on the back-up role.

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musingsoflys · 2 years

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A Vent, caregiver fatigue

Lately I've been feeling like I live in a care facility, and I'm the only employee. This is my primary job despite the fact that I'm the one with *the* job that pays the bills and requires me to put time into it, during regular business hours, I can't just do my work whenever. I wish I could. The patients are capable of minimal self care; one gets left out a lot b/c the other two need so much in-person attention, but that attention can't be shared with anyone else at the same time. Clingy. Last night I had to sit in my older child's room, so she could focus on her homework that was due in 2 hours. (3 assignments. It got done. Yay!) Every time I leave her room with an armload of dirty dishes and have to use my foot to pull her door closed behind me, I remember that scene in Disney's Cinderella when she does the same thing, only I'm human and tired of it. In the middle of that, my younger child needed to get things ready for school tomorrow but is apparently constantly on the verge of having a breakdown. The prospect of trying to plan anything for the next day nearly caused her to curl up into a ball like an armadillo. She is very behind on the majority of her schoolwork, and it's only getting worse, which, of course, only adds to the stress. Vicious circle. And my husband is lonely and getting depressed again. He and his therapist keep missing each other or having to reschedule. He finally called his endocrinologist for more T (he's been out for months) and an appointment. Guess when the next available appointment was? March. March 2023. Fortunately he doesn't have to wait that long for meds. Even just now, I'm supposed to be teleworking. I had just sat down to do this little dump when he called me from upstairs to go scratch his back b/c he's in so much pain that he can't sleep. No one knows why he has so much pain; it seems to be nerves. He's got strong pain relievers and has had multiple nerve ablating procedures. I think he should give a pain psychologist a shot. It would make sense to me that, over time, his nervous system has learned this pain behavior and needs to relearn that there's no need for all this pain. There's no life threat. His neck and shoulders are also ridiculously tight; regular, frequent massage and learning how to relax those muscles would be helpful, no doubt. And I'm trying to figure out my personal development/journey (faith, sexuality, re-finding myself, discovering me, discovering god). Lately I've been stagnant. It's so easy to get busy with ... anything: dishes, laundry, TV, Facebook & Instagram. I would like to get out of my church weeknight youth commitment, but the other leaders keep leaving (for extremely valid reasons), but I don't want to put the girls through a sudden complete leadership change. It's hard to keep my foot in the door that way while also feeling rather icky about church as a whole. We have a good congregation, and sometimes I miss it, and it feels awkward being there. Very liminal. That's the word, still, yes. Liminal, like a hallway, not in any of the rooms, not having a place, just hanging out in the hallway. And I'm 50 now. It's very weird. Especially as once again I'm around significantly younger peers (same grade/responsibility level). I'm glad I had my last boss who loved being in her 50s, was proud of it, but it's weird and challenging for me.

#CareGiverFatigue #Venting #BrainDump

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deerydear · 4 months

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Something I've finally got a small foothold on, again, recently...

I started reading Steven Hassan's book about Combatting Cult Mind-Control.

In it, I was able to recognize the behaviours of some people I made friends with, recently...

....and yet, those people came as an answer to a prayer. I learned some interesting things from them.

The conundrum I started drumming up in the back of my mind was: "Do I burn it all down and start again?"

These were Christians. I learned things that were very useful, about self-control... and I also really enjoy Bible study. I like finding my footing in a parable. I like teasing out the different combinations of light --- how the same passage can have so many meanings. It really is food for the soul.

Before this, I had been involved in political groups that also acted in a cult-like manner.

I've been thinking about this on an expansive scale: not just "when I got inducted into this particular group", but my life before that... what made these groups so appealing to me? What had shaped my personality this way?

My mother, in her fear of the Catholic church. God bless her, because she had good intentions. Her dear friend had been abused by a priest.

"No, I'm not raising my children in this."

It started way before me.

...Then I think even longer...

I think about the crusades and the persecutions that forced people into becoming Christian. I think of how the priests had worked so hard to present themselves as an authority, someone who cannot be disagreed with, without pain of death. My mother told me of these sorts of things, when I was a child.

She decided that it was all meaningless mind-control: as if the sins of man define God.

Haughty... low-minded. Sad.

I think of Jesus' suffering on the cross, at the hands of human beings.

I expressed this to my mother. I told her my doubts. She said: "I'm glad you won't believe just anyone just because they start waving a bible around."

but then this.... human emotion springs up.

It sprung up in me, times before.

Matthew 13:24

I like Matthew 13. I recommend reading the entire chapter, but this little metaphor keeps coming up...

Isn't this a reflection of God's promise to never send another world-ending flood after us?

Genesis 9:8

I pray this prayer every day:

"Our Father, Who art in Heaven:

Hallowed be Thy Name.

Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done

On Earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us today our daily bread.

Forgive us our debts,

as we forgive those who debt against us.

[or: Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.]

Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

Amen.

This is a promise to God, for us to try to think in the Ways that He thinks.

God won't burn the entire field down.

I shouldn't reject truth or good advice if it comes from the mouth of someone who has wronged me before.

It is important to be scrupulous and discerning.

Every person is like a field, in my eyes. They have a choice of what to tend to, within themselves. They have a choice of which plants to nurture. Free Will.

This was my mistake in my leaving behind of feminism, activism, even my normal life.

The types of people whom I met online had promised that I could burn with impunity.

"Who cares about the opinions of sexists, abusers, transphobes.... etc. etc. ?"

Any accusation can be warped to fill this void.

"I will always be justified in my anger, because I am a 21st century feminist."

So said the Nazis. So said many.

Key point: "Always".

Are you justified in your anger right now?

Maybe so.

Are you always justified in your anger?

Are you looking for reasons to get offended at someone, backtalk, backstab, be a bitch...?

Instead if just correcting them, giving them a new way to think about things and setting them on a better path in life...

That's my personal grievance against so many anti-trans radfems. BUT NOT ALL!

There are a lot of intelligent writers. It is all dependent upon your own personal cultivation and responsibility of your skills.

No one else can do it for you.

It doesn't matter what group you are a part of. Nothing guarantees that you are a good person. That is the basic human conundrum that everyone has to live with.

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ocean-anchored · 5 months

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November 23, 23... continued

Saturday evening I went to Grape Fest with Sasha which was also really fun. It was super busy but we had a good time & some good laughs, I enjoy her company a lot, she's a good one. Sunday I went to a new church. I was a bit nervous but I'm glad I went. A girl my age sat beside me & we ended up talking afterwards, I asked if she needed prayer & we exchanged prayer requests & numbers. Later I met up with Daniel at Courtyard for a beer & then we went for nearly a 2 hour walk. It was pretty nice, he's really genuine & intentional. We had really great conversation about life & ended up getting pretty vulnerable. He's a good guy & I'm glad to have him as a friend. Monday I ended up going to Okotoks because Ed canceled our meetings. I told Danny I forgave him which was nice, we hugged it out & its in the past. This guy Braeden works there, I know he's just a young kid but damn he's nice to look at. I went to Anneriekes for late birthday dinner & visit with J. It was good but always all about Steve. It was nice to hear the update at least but man, it's like you try to keep her at arms length but after that night she's texted me like 5 times, sent me a bunch of stuff on IG it's just a lot. I feel bad but I just got to watch myself & my time. Tuesday night I went for sushi with Kamber - finally met up with her since like 3 months ago. I really love that girl too, she's so sweet & we always have such a great time. I'm really glad to have met her & our friendiversary is coming up too in January so I need to find that out. Yesterday I essentially got off for the week since it's US thanksgiving. I had a meeting & cleaned the house etc. Zack started texting me a bunch again. I really did plan to never talk to him again, but I was worried about him again... we ended up talking, went to nose hill & just had a brief talk. I could see it in his eyes. I understand his pain. I understand how much he doesn't want to live like this. It really saddens me. I stood my ground though & my boundary was clear. He knows if he does something again that I'm blocking his number 100% & he will never hear from me again. I think he gets it but who knows. I wonder why I do this. He's my kryptonite. He's that one person that could treat me horribly & I will always come back because I fell so hard. I find him so attractive that I can't not look at him. I hate it. I hate what he does to me, how he makes me feel. But I will keep my stance & I will protect myself. I deserve more & i deserve better, I know. Then Shane came over & we played some switch games. It was nice, chill. He bought me a vegas knights toque & signed Marchessau jersey. I was beside myself.. He does too much. He's too kind. I feel like I trust him but I don't want to hurt him & I know I'm in no place to be seeing anyone anyways, nor do I even want to. He's a good friend though, really does respect my boundaries which I appreciate. Anyways - that's all for now. Im heading out for dinner at the Keg and have a massage tomorrow morning. I'm becoming happier. I'm reading more, including an audio book. I'm spending more time on myself & my self care. Spending more time with nova going out, eating cleaner & have been exercising & working out a lot more, been essentially every day for just over a week now so I'm feeling pretty good again.

#personal #dear future self #life update #dearfutureself #monthly update

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kimhargreeves · 2 years

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The Sinner- Father John Pruitt x Reader (Midnight Mass)

Summary: You've never been a religious person but when a new Priest arrives at your small town, well, everything changes and he's the reason why you head to church.

(Yeah, so like I just finished watching Midnight Mass, holy crap did the priest did it for me. Anyway enjoy some smut based on him. I was listening to Abuse by William Control since he makes these types of bdsm religious songs/videos. I love him so maybe you will if you're into alternative. I myself am a goth so Reader will be a goth here. I am not a religious person myself but..I am going to hell for this."

"(Y/N)?" I hummed when a voice called out my name. It was my mom once again. I was laying face down on my bed mindlessly reading through one of the many books I've read many times.

She appeared by the door frame to which I ignored and kept on flipping the pages ones I read them. "It would be nice if you were to go out for some fresh air. I saw that boy again, Riley."

"Riley? No shit, he's back?" I ask myself not believing that he's truly back.

My mom gave me a disapproving look because of my language, to which I simply ignored again. "Maybe you should go and meet up with him."

It's been awhile since I've seen him. He was locked up for so long that I'm sure he came back as a changed but broken man. "Maybe I will." I mutter and watched her leave my room.

"Today is Sunday! We're going to church later, Monsignor Pruitt is back." I heard my mother shout from the outside of the house.

Monsignor? Is it the same old man who used to still talk back then many years ago? If I were him I'd go on a long ass vacation and never return. Anyway, I know my mother was going to bother me if I said no in going to church.

I sometimes ask myself if coming back to Crockett Island was a good idea or not. Most times if feels like it isn't worth it living here. This is a small island, a small town with the few of the population here who are closed off people. They believe in any rumor and know too much about others.

My mother lives here alongside her sisters and brothers who are in a few houses nearby. One of her sisters is devoted to god and acts too much like Beverly Keane. Both of them of course get along just fine.

"You better dress yourself nicely." I heard her sister, my aunt, Marcie warn me when she passed by to get some things ready.

"I don't remember church having a dress code." I sarcastically told her and didn't bother in changing myself.

I was dressed myself in black from head to toe, my hair matching the same color. I had on a black dress with boots and a large coat, a few jewelry here and there and a spiked choker. I'll say hi to Riley if I see him in church, surely he must be hanging out with Erin by now.

"(Y/N)! It's time." I finally got out of my bed and went over to my mother who was waiting for me outside. I joined her as we walked down to familiar path to the church.

"Seems like tonight storm is going to be big and disastrous. We'll put up some cardboard and wood on your windows so you won't see a thing." My mother reminded me. I hummed and continued walking silently next to her.

"Do I really have to go? this is stupid." My mother knew too well that I am not a religious person and neither is she that much. But she likes to know, wants to know that someone is out there watching over us.

I placed my hands into my pockets and kept to myself until we reached the small church up ahead. "Sister, I'm glad to see you made it early." My aunt told my mother and completely ignored my presence.

"Hmm. It's been quite a while since I last saw you near a church or any religious event." Beverly Keane the religious bitch said when she noticed me. Scowling at me on the inside. My aunt and Beverly were here outside greeting everyone who'd come.

"She really want to come and join us this time." My mom joined in and held my shoulders. "Isn't that right?" She squeezed my shoulders a bit.

"Sure." I simply replied and tried moving past them until Beverly stood in my way again.

"Can you try and dress up a bit differently next time? I'm afraid some people might find you offensive or scared."

I looked her in the way and I so wanted to also her. She was hiding her smirk do bad. "(Y/N), it's nice to see you."

Another voice spoke my name from the inside and I saw Erin waving at me. I walked past Beverly and ignored her looks.

"Hey, thanks for saving me." I mutter and see Erin's warm smile.

"Don't mention it. We all need a break from her from time."

"I don't get how you can put up with her everyday at school." Erin is a teacher, we would hang around at times and she'd tell me the many times that woman could come to her and complain. That's all she does.

"We should hang out more often, I know you're busy but it'd be nice to chat." Erin is pregnant so she can't exactly do much. We used to walk around the island and talk about many things.

"The three of us. Yes, we should." Three of us? I look back and see Riley, he is sitting with his family and quickly looked down when Erin looked back. They used to be such a nice couple.

My mother came in and joined us on the same bench. I sat down first and heard them talking to each other. Some people stared at me and some didn't, the few who did made me feel self conscious.

I sometimes do feel very awful about myself and other times I don't care. It all depends on how I am feeling. That's why I prefer to stay by myself "You just need someone to love you for who you are, only like that you'll be happy." Erin once told me when I was at my lowest.

I yawned loudly and was hit on my arm so I'd shut up. My mother gave me a harsh look and looked away. I frowned and rubbed my arm, it did hurt a bit. "The Monsignor is here." I heard her say.

Great! Now do wait for all of this to be finish. Beverly Keane rushed up the front of the church and took her seat. I rolled my eyes and kept staring striaght ahead. Everyone began to sing from their books. I was certainly taken aback when I saw a young tall man with dark eyes and jet black hair.

Everyone was silent, no one expected this young man here, we were all expecting Monsignor Pruitt.

I watched carefully as he walked down the center aisle and rose to the podium. His eyes looked at everyone until they landed on me for a moment. It felt weird. I felt my chest tighten and my cheeks were burning up a bit.

"Good Morning. I know I am not who you expected to see this morning. My name is Father Paul Hill. And I was sent by the diocese to fill in Monsignor Pruitt for a few weeks. He fell ill. He is recovering back at a hospital in the mainland. But it is my pleasure to be with you all at St. Patrick's."

I will admit and say that I was paying close attention to what he said. It was odd but I felt like something was attracting me to him. Everyone began to line up to take the body of Christ and his blood, being wine.

"(Y/N), let's go." My mom gritted her teeth when she began to grab my sleeve so I'd get up.

"No way." I angrily muttered, I was mostly feeling embarrassed. My mother frowned along with her sister and finally left me alone

**********

It was already over. Everyone stood up and began to head out, most of them stopping by to greet and welcome Father John. Beverly and Marcie my aunt began to talk to each other. "Father John! Welcome!" My mother exclaimed when she reached his side after Riley's family left.

"Thank you for your kind hospitality ma'm. And this is?" I tried walked past them but my mother grabbed my coat and stopped me just in time.

"This is my lovely daughter." She smiled wide.

"I'm (Y/N). It's nice to see a new face around here, welcome to this crappy town." I joked.

Father John turned to face entirely and his dark eyes rested on me longer than expected. "Lovely she is indeed." He said ignoring my joke which my mother found a bit offensive to say in front of him.

Father John extended his hand for me to take which I did and shook it.

"I saw you sitting back in Communion along with Mister Riley. God accepts all of us, it's just a matter of time before you give in to him, (Y/N)."

"I'm sure he'll be surprised then if I decide to give in." I blushed when I looked up at him and realized we were talking for a bit and staring at each other.

I felt my mother staring at us both quietly and so were Beverly and Marcie with a warning look. "I'm not that much into religious but that mass was wonderful." I compliment.

He smirks a little and nods. "Does that mean you'll come every Sunday then?"

"I'll try too if you're the one who will preach about the Lord." I decided to flirt a little.

Marnie shot me a angry but warning look when I said that. Father Paul began to chuckle at my words. “That’s quite the compliment I must say, (Y/N)." he said looking at me again.

"Can I have a word with you, Father John." My mom said all of the sudden.

"Hm? Certainly." I watched them both walk a bit further with Father John glancing to see me every now and then.

I turned around and almost had a heart attack when I was face to face with Marnie. "Don't you dare get any ideas with Father John much less fuck him like you always do when you meet men.You better repent yourself before it's too late." My aunt Marcie warned me bitterly and went back to join Beverly's side.

I felt dirty, embarrassed at her bitter words. How dare she tell me that?!

"(Y/N)? Can you please join me back inside." Father John said to me when he joined us. I forced a smile on my lips and tried my best to not break down and cry.

"O-Of course."

"Oh, Father John. Do you need any company?" Marcie said when we walked inside the church again. Beverly also sticking to her side.

"N-No thank you. You've both been of great help, but I can deal with her." Father John said when I went to sit down and the door closed behind us.

"Your mother is concerned." He speaks up when he makes sure no one is around.

I raise an eyebrow and he continues and quickly looks at me up and down at my usual clothing style. "About your looks and your acting."

Fucking knew it. She won't say it to my face but she always agrees with my aunt on most things. "Now now don't be upset, each of us went through a rebellious phase, others just like dressing alternatively."

I scoff and crossed my arms over my chest and sat down in front of the Father who was watching me closely. "It's been years since I've dressed this way, yes, it was a way to get attention but I enjoy my looks."

I'm in my late twenties and I think it's still stupid that my mother thinks that I need to change my ways to please others.

"Now, I understand. I didn't mean to offend you in anyway. People who are close minded don't accept the strange and unusual, there's good and bad in this world and all of that seems to disappear when people fix their eyes on people who dress like you."

This feels like back at school, when I would constantly get called in to talk with the psychologist.

"I for one think you look nice the way you do." This made me look back at him and I felt my heart beating faster.

I chuckle lowly and try to hide my face from the tall handsome Father. "That means a lot coming from someone who's very religious."

"Your way of dressing harms no one. People should see that instead of backtalking once they leave this holy place."

"Tell me about your life, (Y/N)."

"There's nothing interesting about me, I came back a year ago since I had no money and decided to join my mother back again since she's mostly alone. My dad died about three years ago, we weren't close but it did hurt when he left. I've had my fair share of partners-"

I joke and noticed Father John looking at me intently, paying close attention. "Have you acted upon your instincts towards any of them, sorry if I am making you uncomfortable."

Uncomfortable? Oh..now I get it.

"No I have not, many especially, Keane might think that I'm a slut, but no I am still pure." I smirk and feel a bit annoyed at that question. He's the first person I've told him that.

Everyone thinks I sleep around with men because of the way I dress and sometimes act, but no. I'd never give myself away to a stranger.

"What do you think of God?"

This made me look at him confused. Of course this question was going to be asked. I smile and shake my head, "He's never helped me. I sometimes believe he hates me, we were so poor back then. We had no way of coming back here to live, my mother couldn't afford that much and honestly? I was planning on selling myself for some money."

Father stayed silent while I continued. "He's never given us a home, money, clothes. We all need to work our asses. Why can't he help the poor? Joe Collie? Everyone sees him as a villain, a bad guy. Not me. He's just a guy who's misunderstood and wasn't guided correctly."

"And you blame that on God?" He suddenly spoke up.

".. I'm not sure." I answer truthfully.

Father smiles just a little and he slowly came and sat next to me. "God doesn't hate you. God loves us all, he is around even if we cannot see him. Sometimes he can be disguised as a person-"

"And so can the Devil." I tell and looked at him.

Father John glanced at me too, his dark eyes staring into my own. "Do you believe in the Devil as well?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't either. I might if something were to happen, Father."

We heard loud thunder once I said that, we looked around and noticed that the sky was now cloudy and dark. How long has it been since we've been talking?

Another thunder roared along with lightning, we felt a heavy breeze and it began to rain.

Father smiled at me and didn't seem to mind the harsh weather that was about to commence outside. "Please, call me John. Would you care to come to my home? I'm afraid I can't let you walk on your own in this rain."

I returned the smile and nodded my head. "I-If you're so kind, yes! It'll only be once the storm passes.

**********

I hit my head against the pillow and squeezed my eyes shut and moaned loudly as I held onto John's set of dark locks. He held my legs apart, placed them on his shoulders and began to eat me out. John moans against me while he brings his thumb to massage my clit, I cry out in pleasure and begin to move my hips when he begins to insert two then three fingers inside of me.

Both my hands move down to grip his hair tightly, "Please don't stop." his eyes darken when I moan those words.

Father John slides his is tongue slides inside of me, he then licks, sucks, slides a finger back inside of me, I am a moaning mess and for once I feel blessed that no one is around to interrupt me.

I feel my stomach getting tighter. John grips my hips tightly pulling me closer when I began to grind into his face. "J-John!" I tug onto his hair when he doesn't stop. "Father John!" Just then everything stopped and it felt like heaven.

I fall back onto his bed and see him slowly getting up to his feet. "I'm afraid my child, you'll have to cleanse yourself..to me entirely." I watch Father John closely, he begins to unbuckle his belt and begin to pull his pants down-

"(Y/N)." I sit up abruptly and held onto a pillow. I look around at my surroundings and found myself in Father John's small home.

The thunder and rain hasn't stopped at all, I didn't even realize that the lights had went off. "Are you okay?" John came in with a blanket and draped it over my shoulders.

He was just sitting in front of me a moment ago, reading a book outloud, the Bible probably. Was I seriously thinking of Father John in an unholy way? Was I really that bored from his Bible reading or was it to distract myself from the storm outside.

I felt my palms getting sweaty and I could feel my entire body growing hot. I have never thought of someone like this before, much less a Father. I have done many things before, but I am definitely going to hell for this.

"You seemed deep in thought? Is anything bothering you at all?" John began to ask, he then let our a soft chuckle.

"I apologise. I'm afraid I am not used to having visitors." I take a quick look at John and see his dark eyes on me.

"Are you perhaps afraid of the dark? Have you always been afraid of storms?"

I nod my head and continue to look up ahead, I can't face him not after what I just thought of him. My eyes wander over to his lap and I quickly look away and blush.

"Yes I-I've always been afraid. It's the only thing that hasn't changed. It's getting late, I have to go." I said standing up and was ready to leave but John stopped me.

"I cannot let a child of God wander on their own. Especially at a night like this, I wouldn't forgive myself now would our Lord."

I furrowed my eyebrows and knew there was no use in arguing with Father John. I slowly sat back down and hugged my legs together, I tensed up when I felt John's hand on my shoulder.

"Let us resume reading the holy Bible." John smiles to himself and reached for the Bible again. He opens it and begins to read from it.

"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

#midnight mass #midnight mass netflix #father john pruitt #monsignor pruitt #father john pruitt x reader #hamish linklater #i am going to hell #priest kink #father paul x reader

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katzkinder · 2 years

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Wrath Group and Jeanne D'arc

Wrath Fam Posting never ends, because I like them and thank you all so much for encouraging that 💕

idk what it is about this group that keeps drawing me back to them. Maybe it's because Norse mythology is one of my special interests, maybe it's because the story of Wrath arc moved me so much, maybe I'm just gay as hell. Who knows, who cares, they make me happy, and I'm glad I get to share that joy with all of you~

--Alright enough sappiness, down to business

As the title of the post says, this is going to focus on the ways Strike uses references to Jeanne D'arc as a character motif for the Wrath group, which I consider to consist of Freya, Gil, Ray, and of course, Iduna.

First up, Freya. This one's super easy. We all know Jeanne was executed under false charges of heresy, but the thing that did her in, the one accusation the English levied at her that somehow stuck was... Cross dressing. Now, Freya as we see her is a very feminine woman, but her battle outfit when paired with Iduna is undoubtedly a military uniform, and canon shows us that it was quite common for Freya to be wandering around battlefields, picking up subclass as she pleased.

The "men's clothing" Jeanne wore was armor, and her short haircut she had throughout her military career was for the sake of convenience, not because she was attempting to dress as a man. (@redlanternchild also makes note of this in her post here! Very reassuring that I am not, in fact, an insane person ww. I love her analysis in general so please give her blog a look through if you haven't already; It's super duper worth it!)

It's also a common misconception that Jeanne was executed as a witch, one that might be due to how she was depicted in Shakespeare's Henry IV part 1, where, spurred on by common English propaganda at the time of writing, she was portrayed as a witch and a promiscuous woman (This makes Freya's one-sided adoration for her baby brother rather... bitter, in a funny way). And, well... Gear went and rescued Freya from a witch trial, so. There ya go.

Second comes Freya's subclass, Gilberto Weasel and Rayscent Crazyrabbit, aka, Gil and Ray!

Using Italian pronunciation of Gil's name would make it sound closer to "Jill," while Ray, is, well, Ray! Put em together, and you've got something remarkably close to Jeanne's compatriot and the commander of the French army, Gilles de Rais!

Now for birthdays. Birthdays for characters in Servamp are NEVER chosen Just Because, and Freya's subclass are no exception.

Gil's birthday is February 12th, which also falls on the day the Battle of Herrings started, allll the way back in 1429. It's a really minor battle within the Hundred Years War, but, it was the date Jeanne met with Robert de Baudricourt and ended up, ahem, convinced to help her. It's actually really funny; she basically cornered the dude and then proceeded to publicly lecture everyone present until he relented. This is significant because Jeanne's encounter with Baudricourt is considered by historians to be her first major step towards her career and fame, much like Iduna's first meeting with Gil was what pushed her to really think about what she was creating, who for, and why.

Now, time for Ray! Ray's birthday is May 15th, which just so happens to coincide with the day Gilles de Rais kidnapped a cleric during a dispute at the Church of Saint-Étienne-de-Mer-Morte. This ultimately prompted an investigation by the Bishop of Nantes, during which evidence of Rais's crimes as the infamous "Bluebeard" was uncovered. ... Basically he murdered and did Other Things to a bunch of kids but let's just move past that, ayup.

Finally, we have the Star (lol) of our show... Iduna! She's the most obvious of the bunch with her connections, to the point that I almost feel silly bringing it up? But I also realize that people genuinely might not realize some of these because it just never came up in their lives before.

First, Jeanne's nickname was the Maid of Orléans, and she wasn’t just a flag bearer who rallied the troops. She also carried a sword into battle, a fact that for whatever reason is often left out when discussing her accomplishments. Iduna's combo with Freya is literally named "Maid of Orléans (Draw your sword)", and its effect is to give Freya the weapon she is lacking to become a perfect bastion of offense and defense. I'd have to be a total idiot to miss that given that even FGO, which, as I mentioned in a different post about Freya, plays it VERY fast and loose with history, gets this right, and how popular Jeanne D’arc is as a person to take inspiration from for fictional characters.

(side note, but i wonder if the design of Freya's demon was inspired somewhat by Fate Extra CCC's Karna? Strike's definitely a Fate fan and has even drawn Ildio in Gilgamesh cosplay, so it's entirely possible considering she loves to sprinkle in homages to series she likes within character design)

Second, and I've mentioned it in a previous post, Iduna's birthday, May 30th, is also the day Jeanne died at the hands of the English.

Jeanne was also only 17 the day she first rode into battle, just like Iduna! She's also the patron saint of prisoners (of which C3 was keeping the subclass as, and they were freed and safely guided out of the collapse thanks to Iduna intervening with the battle between Shamrock and Shuuhei) and soldiers, especially female soldiers like Freya. However, she's much more well known for being the patron saint of France ww

Finally, there’s one of the charges leveled at Jeanne during her trial. While she was captured by the Burgundians, there was an incident where she jumped from a 21 meter(!!) tall tower, and she safely landed on the ground despite the height (but was quickly recaptured). Now the reason for this seems to have conflicting sources, and I… Do not speak French |D

Some say she was merely attempting to escape, others insist that she did so to save a nearby village. Point being, she leapt, survived, was captured, and maybe did so for not her own sake, but for others.

Anybody remember the end of chapter 106 and the entirety of chapter 107? Iduna, using a new invention, leaps from the window of the hospital (much to Gil and Ray’s distress lol) in order to more immediately tend to the injured Nicco, and her kindness is met with being taken hostage. I just thought this one was a funny little coincidence and probably not intentional, so take it as you like~

#servamp #kat's katerwauling #long post #servamp freya #gilberto weasel #rayscent crazyrabbit #iduna nobel

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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 2 years

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Hi! I was raised in church in a very traumatic environment where the gender binary defined how I was expected to behave and perform in pretty much every context. This summer, after a lot of therapy, I finally came to terms with the damage that this has done. I think I am still processing a lot of it? I told a couple close family members who asked if I was “trying to prove something,” which really hurt. Once I explained, they were supportive…but it was kind of a brutal process that involved a lot of me crying and a lot of them being weirded out. I tried labels, but none of them seemed to fit exactly. All I can say is, I’m a woman, but I’m a human first and I enjoy more masculine-coded AND more feminine-coded performance esp. thru clothing. My therapist and my GNC friends assure me that this is fine and I do not need labels, but it’s hard because sometimes I show up to church in my Tintin haircut and my baggy trousers and button-up and men’s loafers, and other days I show up in a super cute dress, and I always sit alone and see all these nuclear families and… I don’t know. I guess I don’t know if this is just me? I don’t identify as non-binary, but I think I could say I’m an “androgynous woman”? I’m just confused. And lonely. Any thoughts would be helpful because growing up there was no space for how I feel except to be a horrible unnatural sinner and now, as an adult, I’m not condemned, but there’s just this sort of…silence…?

Aw dear, I really feel for you as you go through these feelings of loneliness and people's lack of understanding.

Since you're asking whether all of this is "just you," I can tell you — it's definitely not just you! I relate to a lot of what you're talking about; and I can think of friends of mine + people whose stories I've heard who would also relate.

My childhood experience with church & faith weren't as flat-out traumatic and stifling as yours, from the sound of it, but there were messages I absorbed there that do still impact me today; that have taken me years to pull apart so that I could build something new and more life-giving. Even if you're in a better place now, the pain of your childhood church is real.

Same with the pain of your family members' first response — even if they're more supportive now, that pain lasts. When I remember how some of my family and friends responded to me first coming out to them as nonbinary, my gut still twists and my spirit aches.

In all of this, I'm really glad you've got a therapist with whom you can process that trauma! I will offer the hopeful note that as time passes and good experiences build up, more healing comes — the good doesn't erase the bad, but it does tilt the balance in favor of the good. Pain won't be the last word; there is so much joy to come as you find more support, more community.

For me, every time my parents refer to me with the correct pronouns without any trouble, a little piece of my heart slots back into place. When I visit my new home church and am greeted by people of all genders and sexualities who love me and my wife dearly, my experience of the word “church” moves from being more about isolation and fear to being more about connection and love.

For you, maybe an example of a moment like this will be a family member casually complimenting one of your more masculine outfits; or glimpsing another gender nonconforming person in the pews.

I wonder, are there any ways you can cultivate moments of healing in your life? For instance, you might pray about exploring some LGBT-affirming churches, places where you won’t be surrounded solely by “nuclear” families but families and connections of all kinds, and other gender nonconforming people like you — not to replace your current church, necessarily, but to supplement it. You could attend one church one week, another the next, etc. (Here’s a post where I discuss how to find an affirming church.)

_______

Not to talk too much about myself lol, but I do want to share one specific experience I had a couple years back. I was back in my hometown, and decided to visit my home church, because there’s so much I loved about it once, and because it’s Catholic and I miss a lot about Catholic mass.

When I was there, and settled somewhere in the back of the very crowded church, I looked around and couldn’t recognize any kin among the other churchgoers. Among those very gender conforming people, those families of one man, one woman, and some kids with boys in pants and girls in dresses, I felt Alone. I felt like i stuck out like a sore thumb, too; it was hard to convince myself that no, it’s not true that “everybody’s staring at you.” It was so hard to let go of the feeling that I was being judged — even though no one said a thing to me or even did more than glance my way.

And when the purpose of worship in church is to worship God in community, that sense of isolation is quite an obstacle!!

One thing that helped me get through that Mass (and other services like it over the years since I started dressing in “GNC” ways) was imagining that some of the people around me might be Like Me — but still closeted, either still unaware of their difference or else hyper-aware of it but not ready to live it out openly yet.

Maybe the child pouting in the pew in front of me had to be wrestled into their pretty dress that morning, demanding to know why they couldn’t wear pants like their brother. Maybe they’ll see me and realize, oh! i’m not the only one! and when i’m older, i will be free to dress myself, to be myself!

Maybe a middle schooler, or even someone decades older than me, will see me and be — amazed — or encouraged — or emboldened — because here is someone living into non-conformity in a way they can’t, or aren’t ready to do!

Maybe a homophobic family member — a parent, a sibling, an aunt — of someone who has come out will see my genderqueer self approach the alter, hands folded with palms outward to receive the Body of Christ. Maybe they’ll see the priest place that host in my palm, not denying me because of how I look; maybe they’ll see me place it reverently on my tongue — and they’ll see that I do not drop dead, struck down by God for my impudence — and maybe...maybe...maybe their heart will open just a crack to the idea that one can be queer/LGBT/gnc and a person of faith, beloved by God.

When I can imagine myself as an agent of God’s good news as I sit there scared and alone among all those “normal” people, I feel courageous enough to stay, to worship, to receive God. ...I have no clue if imagining that will help you, or if that’s just me, but yeah. When i feel i stick out like a sore thumb in church, i try to transform my fear of that into part of how i might live out God’s love.

___

Another thing about my visit to my childhood church: when the feelings overwhelmed me; when I just couldn’t connect to the other people in the pews, so that I felt like i was worshipping all alone instead of jointly with them — i did eventually leave the pew, to go sit with my Mother Mary.

The church has a statue of her, of Maria Della Strada, or Mary of the Wayside, in one corner, with votive candles you can light and a kneeler so you can pray before her. I sat on the kneeler in that quiet little corner and asked her to join me in worship, so that I was worshipping God in community even when I didn’t feel like part of the community of the other people physically there.

I wrote a poem about that experience (and took a couple photos haha) that you can see here.

___

Well. This got long, and I don’t even know if any of it will even help you at all! But if nothing else, know that you aren’t alone in what you’re feeling; that who you are and how you like to express yourself is not only valid but even holy — a beautiful example of the diversity in God’s image, of how Jesus calls us not to be “conformed to the world” and all its norms, “but transformed” (Romans 12:2).

If anyone else has advice, or encouragement, or solidarity for anon, please do share!

#church hurt #loneliness #isolation #long post #unaccepting family #unsupportive family #avery speaking #essays

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oh-atlas · 2 years

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ophelia's slightly better, still fucked up second morning of hanging out with the party, aka tonight's session recap, this one got long enough that i'll spare y'all with a readmore

let's start out with

dreams and morning weirdness

inmis raven queen, comforting shadows, sleeps great

ophelia falling out of the sky in barovia tears streaming down her face until she falls back into the inn and wakes up hyperventilating, crying, and holding her necklace

axton drew a stylized bust of strahd but didn't remember doing it

coco now has dragon eyes 👀

kregga looked in the mirror and one of her eyes (yellow one) winked involuntarily at her in the mirror

ireena didn't sleep well either 😭

the day carries on

ophelia leaves before dawn and before anyone else is awake to go to the church and also walk off that fucking nightmare.

meanwhile the party is discussing things over breakfast such as wtf is up with coco's eyes, axton's drawing (maybe bleeding on the ritual altar in the durst's basement wasn't the brightest idea. I DID NOT KNOW THIS HAPPENED BC I JOINED CAMPAIGN LATE LMAO)

APPARENTLY IREENA WAS HURT, ESPECIALLY AFTER THEIR CONVO THAT NIGHT, THAT OPHELIA HAD LEFT BUT NO ONE INSIGHT CHECKED HER 😭

back at the church ophelia sees that priests are doing last rites for the people that were killed in the marketplace the day before.

she works herself up to crossing the threshold and nothing happens. (Scream)

Ophelia tries not to take up their attention and just sits in a pew and is thinkingTM

When the priest Zelma comes up and recognizes her because she saw the fight in the marketplace. Asks Ophelia if she's made an oath to Lathander (Ha), and Ophelia is like, "Well, No, I was a ward in the Barovian church." and asks her if she knows how to talk to the big guy. She does not but has a very cute speech about how her acts of kindness to others are her way of devotion to lathander and wah. that Did definitely remind Ophelia of Luce.

AND THEN SHES LIKE. WELL. BONES MISSING.

AND I REMEMBER. THAT BONE CHURCH IS A THING. AND BONE CHURCH. IS IN VALLAKI.

FEAR™️

However Ophelia doesn't know shit, asks a few questions, I have some pretty shit rolls to see if I can figure anything out in the basement where the bones were kept about what type of person was down here and tracking shit. And Ophelia's just kinda like "Yeah I will try to find your bones but I've gotta go out of town for a little bit." : ) SHE DOESNT KNOW BETTER BUT I DO

EDIT: APPARENTLY THE PRIEST THOUGHT IT WAS HOT THAT OPHELIA MANAGED TO LIFT A TWO TON STONE AKA THE ONLY SUCCESSFUL ROLL I HAD DOWN THERE LMAO, STUPID SEXY OPHELIA BE WINNING

The party meets back up on the way heading out of town and Coco says to Ophelia "Oh, I didn't think you were coming back" to which Ophelia's like ??? "We have a common interest?? I Just went To Church?" And then "Oh, How was Church"

OPhelia Voice: CHURCH WAS FINE.

And then she walked away to go hang out with Ireena <3 and Ireena keeps bumping her shoulder into Ophelia 😭😭 because she's glad she's there 😭

Inmis the cleric also got a Raven with a message from allies in Barovia that there was an attack at exactly the same time the attack in the woods when Ophelia met the party happened 😬

kregga and axton had a backstory convo and apparently. strahd is the SECOND evilest thing Kregga's met. 👀👀 also their parents r both dead and whatever killed their parents did that to Kregga's eye.

Also we had a retcon scene towards the end of session where Inmis, the cleric, gave Ophelia a bouquet of flowers on the road as a way of welcoming her to the party 😭😭😭

and guess what arrangement of fucking flowers those were. OPHELIA'S BOUQUET. A reference to Hamlet, and all of the flower meanings the player chose as a nod to having discovered Ophelia's backstory LMAO as well as what Inmis kind of has understood from insight checking Ophelia. I Am Going Insane.

We get to argynvostholt (i'm so powerful i learned how to spell it finally) and we do a bit of wandering around and come across three guys beating the everliving shit out of each other with their swords. but none of them are dying. and we roll okay enough on stealth that they don't notice us. but we are also. like "yeah nah maybe we should fight this" and we do :D

we got some fucking nasty crits from the barbarian and ophelia and some awesome sneak attack from the rogue, bard cast faerie fire at the top of our surprise round and it was just. SO GOOD

EDIT: IREENA ALSO THREW A KNIFE AT ONE OF THEM IT WAS VERY HOT

i invoked ally beardsley's name and proceeded to have the best rolls i'd had all session. 22 to crash through a stained glass window depicting imagery of lathander. Cannot remember exactly what I rolled to restrain one of the guys to the column but enough to do that.

Then when one of the Revenant (PALADINS. THEY WERE PALADINS TOO) was going to do searing smite but switched to either blinding or branding after looking ophelia dead in the eye and i rolled a nat20 with my mage-slayer reaction so he couldn't get the spell off 😭

Then on my next turn at the top of it Ophelia pulled out Luce's necklace and spoke in Old Barovian to him, saying "We're friends to Lathander," and rolled a nat20 persuasion check 😭

We Got Some Lore out of the Eternal Fighty Boys, There's someone upstairs who knows more about stuff and might be able to help us find the relic, They mentioned Sir Godfrey and Vladimir (Hello MLM)

And then we ended session going out back towards the mausoleum : ), Ophelia hiding the burn on her hand from clutching Luce's necklace so hard and how warm it was when she was holding it out :)

#ch: ophelia #game: curse of strahd #recap: ophelia #it was SUCH a fun session #AAa #we're going deeper into dead dragon manor and more and more things r going to call ophelia out for vampire. FUCK.

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kerie-prince · 3 years

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We're Worlds Apart (5)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: cursing, mom being a dick :/, accidental peeping eyes, jealous draco

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

a/n: omg, i had to rewrite this WHOLE THING again. but now i know to write things in my google docs first

(gif cred)

Everyone at the table was silent. Your mother sat processing what had just occurred moments ago. I practice, too. You always wondered why your brother never talked too much about her whenever you were on long phone calls with him. He was pretty vague about Stephanie, and now you knew why.

Actually, it made complete sense as to why he didn't tell your mom about Stephanie being a practicing witch, but you? That was what really confused you.

“So,” you decided to break the silence, “how long have you practiced?”

Stephanie had an excited glimmer in her eyes when you asked. “I'm still a baby, I started earlier this year.” Something about her aura was soothing and pure. You scooted your chair closer to her and continued your conversation. “So you’re a Wiccan? Or do you practice something else?”

“I practice Gardnerian Wicca,” she declared. From the corner of your eyes, you could see your mother holding back a scoff. Surely she was thinking Why the hell is she encouraging this?

The ding of the oven sounded like church bells to her as it gave her an excuse to leave the room and focus on anything else. The situation was quite hysterical. But questions were in order. As Stephanie left to use your bathroom, you pulled your brother aside. “Dude, why the hell didn’t you tell me anything?”

He flinched away from your hand and started massaging the pain away from your grip, “I didn’t think it was my business to tell.”

“But you told her about me?” You asked with crossed arms. Your brother’s logic was lacking. “It… might’ve slipped, but I only told her after she told me that she’s a witch. I don’t go around campus saying ‘Hey, I’m Y/B/N Y/L/N. I’m a communications major and y’know what? My sister’s a witch.’” You weren’t upset that he told his girlfriend about you. You weren’t ashamed at all. And you weren’t really upset that he didn’t talk to you about her. Because, in a sense, he’s right.

But you like being dramatic, so you figured that while you've got your brother in your house you’d act like a petty sister. “Whatever, man. But you could’ve told Mom beforehand,” you scolded with your arms crossed. He had a scoff in his laugh, “Tell Mom? We’re thinking of the same person, right? You know she would freak.”

“She’s freaking out right now! I’d have rather her freak out earlier before she made my house look like some stupid picture in a Martha Stewart kitchen advertisement,” you whisper yelled. To think that your house could have looked as it normally did annoyed you. Grandma’s tapestry you whined internally.

Stephanie found you two in your hallway and froze in an awkward stance, “Is everything okay?” You and your brother put on your best smiles. “Yeah, just wanted to see how my baby bro is doing,” you reached up to pinch his cheeks to which he swatted you hand away. It started a playful fight that made your guest laugh in amusement. The sound of your mother announcing that dinner was ready brought the little fight to a halt. “I’ll beat your ass later,” you challenged him, fingers doing an ‘I’ve got my eyes on you’ movement.

—

He couldn't believe it.

Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini stood at his doorstep with their bags. Theo had his wand pointed out with confetti spurting out the tip. “Surprise!” he yelled.

Draco pulled them in quickly and nearly sprained his neck as he looked around to make sure no one saw his friend. “What part of 'muggle neighbors’ did you not understand” he scolded.

“Oh shit, sorry mate. I forgot.” Theo scratched the back of his head. He then glared at Blaise knowing that with his brilliant memory, he let Theo make a big mess of things. Theoretically and literally. An enchanted broom swept up the confetti on the floor.

“What are you guys doing here, I wasn’t expecting you two for another week?” Draco asked as he pulled each wizard in for a welcoming hug.

“Merlin, mate. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re disappointed to see us,” Blaise teased.

“That's not what I meant and you know that. I’m happy… just surprised.” The blond wasn't isn't used to showing this kind of side to himself. “What brings you two here early?”

“Have you ever known Theo to be patient for anything? Bloody git nearly dragged me out in the middle of work,” Blaise expressed. The Slytherin trio laughed as the two friends followed Draco through his new home. “Well, here’s the guest room. Set your things down and I’ll grab some drinks.”

For the first time since getting his phone and learning about take-out, Draco had ordered a couple pizzas to be delivered. Blaise and Theo were genuinely impressed by the whole thing. “Muggles sure do think of everything,” Theo observed.

“Almost shocked that Malfoy here adapted pretty well to them,” Blaise had a smirk on his lips before stuffing his mouth with his first ever slice. “Salazar, this is amazing.” Draco raised his eyebrows in agreement. The three men sat in the living room eating and caught up with each other.

The night was filled with laughter and tipsy hiccups. It was arguably Draco’s best night since he first moved to America. He hadn’t realized how much he missed their shenanigans since Hogwarts before it all went to shit thanks to a certain Dark Lord. He was ecstatic and couldn’t wait for them to meet his new friends.

In the middle of their laughter, Theo was seen squinting his eyes in a direction, “Oi mate, who’s that?” The two others followed his eyes which looked out a window. Sort of blurry due to the alcohol, Draco leaned forward to focus on what it was Theo was talking about.

When his vision cleared, he saw some heads moving around. And… arms flinging about? The sight was strange to say the least. Draco didn't exactly know what was going on, he watched as you stood in your living room in front of who he recognized as your mother. Sitting on your couch was some woman, and in between you and your mother was some guy.

“Is that the muggle neighbor you told me about?” Blaise observed.

“Yeah, and her mum. Don’t know the others, though.” Draco stated. He shrugged his shoulders and sat in a comfortable position. Blaise continued to look at the weird scene next door. The only pieces he could put together was that you definitely weren’t happy and neither was your mother. “She’s kinda fit, don’t you think?”

“No,” Draco didn’t hesitate to answer. His irritated voice was indication enough to not press on the matter more. And seeing as it was their first night in America, Blaise didn’t want to risk getting hexed before bed.

Draco looked at the clock on the wall which read 10:57 pm. “Shit,” he whispered. “I’m turning in. I have a meeting in the morning.” Theo was already passed out on the soft couch and Blaise walked himself to the guest room to claim the bigger bed. Once in his room, Draco chugged a bottle of water that was on his nightstand and went to sleep.

—

She finally went home. After the huge fight that broke out after dinner, your mother grabbed her things and left. Poor Stephanie had witnessed the mess and regretted coming. As much as she was glad to finally meet a fellow practicing witch, she underestimated your mother entirely.

It actually surprised you that your mother acted in such ways. Growing up, your mom never really made too much of a fuss of your Craft. But just out of nowhere, she’s making comments of this and making complaints of that. You wanted to forget Thanksgiving night all together.

Currently, you were pacing in your kitchen debating on whether or not to call Stephanie and make sure she was alright. She was nothing but sweet and kind. Didn't deserve to come home with your brother and have some woman blow up. Your mother hit some random nerve in the middle of your conversation that you carried on about what Steph’s practice consisted of and yelled about her whole family getting full of ‘damn weirdos’.

The best thing to come out of it was that you were able to bring back all your original decorations and stored all the stuff your mother bought in the garage.

Thinking about it started to give you a migraine. You walked to your bathroom and started to fill the tub with the hottest water you could take. As it filled, you went to the comfort of your room and undressed. You opted out on bath salts and oils; just the warmth of the water would be enough to settle your nerves.

Before you could remove your bra, you felt a weird shiver up your spine. Something in the air made you feel tense. You wanted to assume that it was negative energy that your mother left behind, but it felt different than that. No, you felt a presence in your home. Or worse, from somewhere else.

You turned around and widened your eyes in horror. A man that you didn’t know nor have ever seen before looks at you from the window of your neighbor, Draco’s room. As soon as it processed to him that you were looking back, he quickly shut the curtains again. At that moment, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you forgot to shut your blinds.

You sat in your bathtub still shocked that a complete stranger almost saw you naked. Had you even gone further a couple seconds or ignored your instincts, he could have seen everything. You dunk your head into the water and scream under it. This day can’t get worse you thought.

But oh, how it can. You performed your house cleansing spell and as soon as you set the censor dish down, the doorbell rang. You opened the door and was face to face with the same man who saw you. “Hello,’ he said. You recognized the accent, how it sounded like Draco’s.

Shyly, you nodded your head and said a soft ‘hi’.

“Listen, I just wanted to say that I am so sorry for… for what happened,” presumably Draco’s friend apologized.You stood there a bit shocked and flustered. “I swear I’m not a bloody pervert. Mate doesn't have any light in his room so I’d thought I’d do him a favor. Guess that didn't turn out so well,” he sheepishly chuckled. It made you laugh as well. It was decided that it was just an honest mistake.

“It’s okay. I should’ve closed my curtains so I guess it goes both ways,” a blush was spread across your cheeks. The more you looked at him, the more you studied his gorgeous features. “I’m Y/N. You must be Draco’s friend,” you extended your hand out for him to shake. He took it in his and you nearly melted into his smooth skin.

“Yes, I am. I’m Blaise.”

—

Draco returned home with a pounding headache and stiff neck. He had never felt more tired than he did in this moment. He saw Theo sitting on his couch reading the Daily Prophet with one hand and holding a cup of tea in the other. It was funny to Draco because he explicitly remembers Theo promising that he would never become his father who did this exact thing.

Looking around his surroundings, he noticed how his other best friend wasn’t around. “Where’s Zabini?”

“I think he went out for a walk,” Theo guessed. “Think he’s been gone for about an hour now that I think about it.” He put his paper down and mirrored the look of curiosity that was also on Draco’s face. Seconds later, the devil himself walked into Draco’s home. The look on his face was the same he had back in Hogwarts. A look Draco and Theo knew all too well.

“How? Actually no, scratch that. Who?” Theo pressed on instantly. Draco was also interested as to how Blaise somehow seduced a woman a day into his vacation in the foreign country. “You gits really want to know who?” They both nodded. He stood hesitantly but kept the smirk on his face, “Your muggle neighbor, Y/N.”

Theo stood up and gave Blaise a high-five, “You still got the magic touch I see.”

“Please never say that again,” Blaise sighed. He went on to explain everything that just happened, how he accidentally saw you, how he went over and how you invited him in for coffee and talked for about an hour. Well, mainly flirted. Then he talked about how he acted coy and wanted to know whatever was nice in town and when you told him about a French restaurant uptown, he used it as a way to ask you on a date.

Blaise was explaining everything, but it all sounded quiet to Draco. He couldn’t hear a word out of his friends mouth after he said your name.

“Mate, you alright? You look pale,” Blaise looked concerned.

Draco snapped out of it and lied through his teeth, “I’m fine. Just tired and slightly hungover is all.” Lie? Why would I be lying about this? Wait… why am I lying about this?

“Oh, well I can make the thing my mum makes for hangovers if you’d like,” Theo offered.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just get some rest.” Draco walked to his bedroom and removed the necktie around his collar. As he walked in, he saw how his curtain wasn’t fully closed. He opened it slightly and as he looked across, he saw you sitting in a chair in your bedroom. You seemed to have been in a haze before you looked up and met your eyes with his. You waved gently and Draco, as he always does now, nodded his head and closed the curtains.

This can’t be real.

—

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