#so. now. i have to choose between sticking with my god and upholding her mothers culture

[sunstar121]

vibes after today's dnd session

[koushisatori]

if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

[samwisethewitch]

Everything You Need to Know About Pagan Deity

As you’ve probably guessed by now, there are many, many, many different approaches to deity within the wider pagan community. While it would be impossible to summarize all of these different perspectives in a single blog post, this post contains some common themes and best practices that are more or less universal and can be adapted to fit whatever system you choose to work with.

In my Baby Witch Bootcamp series, I talk about the “Four R’s” of working with spiritual beings, including deities: respect, research, reciprocity, and relationship. However, when it comes to gods and goddesses specifically, I think it’s important to include a fifth “R” — receptivity.

If you’re completely new to this kind of work and want to avoid making rookie mistakes and/or pissing off powerful spiritual forces, sticking to the Five R’s of Deity Relationships is a good place to start. The Five R’s are:

Respect. It’s always a good idea to have a healthy respect for the powers you choose to connect with, whether you see those powers as literal gods and goddesses or as archetypes within the collective unconscious (see below). While not every ritual needs to be incredibly formal and structured, you should always conduct yourself with an air of respect and reverence when connecting with deity. There’s no need to humble yourself to the point of cowering before the gods (and in fact, this kind of behavior is a turnoff for many deities), but you should strive to be polite and follow your system’s proper protocol for things like cleansing, offerings, and prayers.

Research. I am of the opinion that you should do serious research into a god or goddess before any attempt to make contact with them. This can be controversial, but in my own experience things seem to go more smoothly when I know what I’m doing. Books are really the way to go for this — the Internet can be useful for connecting with other worshipers and hearing their stories, but it isn’t a good source for nonbiased factual information. I recommend starting with academic sources written by secular experts for a purely historical account that won’t be colored by personal religious experience. Once you have a decent understanding of the basic historical context, look for books by pagan authors who have experience working with this deity. These sources will give you a framework for your own interactions with them.

Reciprocity. As we’ve discussed before, reciprocity is a core value of virtually every pagan tradition. Reciprocity is a mutual positive exchange where all parties benefit in some way, and this quality forms the backbone of all healthy relationships with deity. While we benefit from connecting with the gods, the gods also benefit from our worship. Upholding reciprocity in your relationships with deity means making regular offerings to show your appreciation as well as living in a way that your god or goddess approves of.

Relationship. At the end of the day, connecting with a god or goddess is about creating a healthy, fulfilling relationship. Like any relationship, it takes time and effort to keep the connection alive. The gods are living, thinking, feeling beings just like you and me, though on a much larger scale. Just like you and me, they have likes and dislikes and require certain things from those who want to work closely with them. Try to approach the gods as individuals, and connect with them as you would with another person. This will naturally lead to much more authentic and organic relationships.

Receptivity. To be receptive is to be open and ready to receive whatever comes your way — this is an essential quality for anyone who is serious about connecting with a god or goddess. Connecting with the gods means allowing them a place in your life, whatever they choose to bring with them. It means forming a relationship with them on their terms, and that requires us to give up a certain degree of control. While you should never feel afraid or completely out of control when connecting with deity (if you do, stop contacting that deity immediately), you may very well experience things you did not expect or ask for. Be prepared for these surprises, and understand that when the gods surprise us in this way, they do it in order to help us grow. Let go of any preconceived ideas about what a relationship with this deity “should” look like, and instead let it unfold naturally.

Though there is much more to working with deity than just these values, keeping these values in mind will get you started out on the right foot in your relationships with the gods.

Deity or Archetype?

As odd as it may sound, not everyone who connects with the gods through study and ritual believes those gods to be literal spiritual beings. Some pagans (I would even say the majority of pagans, based on my personal experience) connect with the gods as individuals with their own personalities and agency, but others connect with them as symbols that represent different elements of the human experience. This latter group is working with the gods not as deity, but as archetypes.

The term “archetype” comes from academia, particularly the fields of psychology and literary analysis. An archetype is a symbol that embodies the fundamental characteristics of a person, thing, or experience.

Swiss psychoanalyst Carl Jung argued that archetypes are powerful symbols within the collective unconscious (basically an ancestral memory shared by all of humanity) that arise due to shared experiences across cultures. For example, Jung would argue that Demeter, Juno, and Frigg all represent the “Mother” archetype filtered through different cultural lenses, reflecting the important role of mothers across Greek, Roman, and Old Norse culture. For Jung and his followers, archetypes allow us to connect to latent parts of our own psyche — by connecting with the Mother archetype, for example, you can develop motherly qualities like patience, empathy, and nurturing.

For comparative mythology expert Joseph Campbell, archetypes represented types of characters that appear in some form in most or all global mythology. In his book, The Hero of a Thousand Faces, Campbell identified the “hero’s journey” as the archetypal narrative framework on which most stories, from ancient myths to modern films, are based. (If you’ve taken literally any high school literature class, you’re probably familiar with Campbell’s work.) Like Jung, Campbell has been hugely influential on modern pagans who choose to connect with the gods as archetypes.

Working with an archetype is a little different than working with a deity. For one thing, while archetypes may manifest as gods and goddesses, they can also manifest as fictional characters, historical figures, or abstract symbols. Let’s say you want to tap into the Warrior archetype. You could connect with this archetype by working with gods like Mars, Thor, or Heracles — but you could just as easily do so by working with superheroes like Luke Cage or Colossus, literary figures like Ajax or Achilles, or the abstract concepts of strength and honor.

When pagans worship a deity, it’s because they want to form a relationship with that deity for some reason. But when pagans work with an archetype, it’s usually because they want to embody aspects of that archetype. In our above example, you may be trying to connect to the Warrior archetype to gain confidence or become more assertive.

The biggest difference between worshiping a deity and working with an archetype is that a deity is an external force, while an archetype is an internal force. When you connect with a deity, you are connecting with a spiritual being outside of yourself — a being with their own thoughts, feelings, and drives. When you connect with an archetype, you are connecting with a part of your own psyche. Because of this, archetypes tend to be more easily defined and behave in more predictable ways than deities, although some archetypes can be very complex and multi-faceted.

On the surface, worship and archetype work might be very similar, but the “why” behind the action is fundamentally different.

If you choose to worship the Morrigan, for example, you may have an altar dedicated to her, make regular offerings to her, speak with her in meditations and astral journeys, and/or write poetry or make art in her honor. If you choose to work with the Wild Woman archetype, it may look very similar to an outside observer — you may have an altar dedicated to the Wild Woman energy, speak with manifestations of Wild Woman (perhaps including the Morrigan) in meditation, and write poetry or make art dedicated to this archetype. However, these actions will have a very different intent behind them. Your Wild Woman altar is not a sacred space but a visual trigger to help you connect to the Wild Woman within you. Your meditations are conversations with different aspects of your own personality, not with a separate being. Your art is an expression of self, not a devotional act. The result is a deeper connection to yourself, not a relationship with another being.

I hope I’ve made it clear that archetype work and deity worship can both be very worthwhile spiritual practices, and that each serves its own purpose. Many pagans, myself included, work with both deities and archetypes.

There is some overlap between worshiping a deity and working with an archetype, and many pagans start out with one practice before eventually ending up in the other. Sometimes working with an archetype leads you to encounter a deity who embodies that archetype, which can lead to a relationship with that deity. Likewise, your relationship with a deity may help you become aware of a certain archetype’s influence in your life, which might lead you to work with that archetype.

Making First Contact

First impressions are important. This is true for making new friends, for job interviews, for first dates — and for your first meeting with a god or goddess. In many cases, the way you behave in your first meeting with a deity will set the tone for your relationship with them.

That being said, don’t overthink (or over-stress) about your first impression. You aren’t going to be cursed or punished if you mess this up — at the very worst, the deity might lose interest in connecting with you, and even that can often be remedied with an offering and a polite apology. While it’s always best to get off on the right foot, don’t feel like you need to be perfect.

So, how do you make a good first impression on a god or goddess? Honestly, the rules are largely the same for making a good first impression on any other person. Make sure your physical appearance is clean and tidy — some systems, such as Hellenismos and Kemetic paganism, have special rules for cleansing before contacting the gods, but it’s always a good idea to take a shower first and make sure you’re wearing clean clothes. Likewise, make sure the physical space you invite the gods into is relatively clean — it doesn’t need to be spotless, but take a minute to tidy up before beginning any ritual. Be polite — there’s no need to be overly formal, but you should be respectful. Don’t immediately ask for favors — how would you feel if you met someone at a party and they immediately asked you to do some sort of work for them?

Beyond the basics, it’s wise to make sure you have an idea of who this god is and what they are like before you reach out to them. This will keep you from accidentally doing something offensive. For example, you wouldn’t want to invite them to an altar dedicated to a deity they have a rivalry with. Likewise, you want to avoid offering food or drink that would have been taboo in their original worship. (Of course, there are exceptions to every rule, but when you’re just starting out it’s a good idea to follow the historical framework as closely as possible.)

At the risk of sounding like a broken record: this is why research is so important. Knowing who you are dealing with allows you to deal with them respectfully, gracefully, and competently.

Callings

There’s one aspect of deity worship that is controversial in modern paganism: the idea of being “called” by a deity. This is a question you’ll find many, many heated discussions about online. Do you need to be called by a deity to form a relationship with them? Do deities choose their followers, or do we choose them? How do you know what a call from a deity even looks like?

As I said, this is a controversial topic, but I firmly believe that 1.) you do not have to feel called to a deity beyond being interested in them, and 2.) feeling drawn to a deity’s image, symbols, and myths is a form of calling.

Many pagans do feel like they were called or drawn to the deities they walk most closely with. They may have encountered myths of that deity as a child or teenager and deeply resonated with them, or may have always had an affinity for that god’s sacred animals. They may have dreamed of this deity before knowing who they were, or may have felt a spiritual presence around them before identifying it as a god or goddess.

Many people first encounter the gods in fiction, only for this fictionalized depiction to spark a deeper connection that eventually leads to worship. In the modern era, it’s entirely possible for someone who worships Loki to have first encountered him (or at least a character loosely based on him) in Marvel comics and films, or for someone who worships the Greek pantheon to have first discovered them through the Percy Jackson books. As far as I’m concerned, this is also a valid “call” from deity. The gods are very good at communicating with us through the means available — including fiction.

That being said, just because you don’t already feel a strong connection to a god or goddess doesn’t mean you can’t or shouldn’t worship them. The connection will come with time and effort, just like in any relationship.

Dedication, Patrons, and Matrons

In online spaces such as Tumblr and TikTok, a lot of inexperienced pagans parrot the idea that every pagan needs to have a designated matron and/or patron god and/or needs to be formally dedicated to a god in order to have a close relationship with them. Not only is this untrue, but such restrictions can actually cause harm and/or stunt spiritual growth.

Let’s address dedication first. To be dedicated to a deity means to outwardly declare yourself a servant of that deity, usually with a formal dedication ritual — think of it as the pagan version of joining a convent or going to seminary. It is an outward expression of your devotion and loyalty to that deity. Dedicants are held to a higher standard than the average worshiper by themselves, their communities, and the god(s) they have dedicated to.

Dedication can be a powerful and fulfilling spiritual experience (it’s the backbone of many peoples’ spiritual practice), but it should not be taken lightly. Dedicating yourself to a god or goddess should be a sign of your commitment to them and a deepening of your relationship — it should not be the beginning of that relationship.

Dedication is a lot like marriage. Just like you wouldn’t marry someone you’ve only been on a handful of dates with, you shouldn’t dedicate to a deity just because you’ve had one or two positive experiences with them. Like marriages, dedication can be difficult to get out of — ending your dedication to a deity is possible, but it’s a messy, complicated, uncomfortable process that is sure to shift the foundation of your entire spiritual practice, and not always for the better.

My advice to new and inexperienced pagans is not to even consider dedication until you’ve been practicing for several years. As you begin your journey, your focus should be on exploring your options, forming meaningful connections, and developing a practice that works for you and your unique spiritual needs. Now is the time for experimentation, not lifelong commitments.

But let’s say you are an experienced pagan, and you feel like you are ready for dedication. How do you know if you should dedicate to a given god or goddess?

Dedication may be the logical next step in your relationship with a deity if:

This deity has been an active part of your spiritual practice for at least 2-3 years, with no major gaps in contact with them

You are comfortable upholding this deity’s values for the rest of your life — and are willing to face consequences if you fail to do so

You are willing to dedicate a significant amount of time and effort to the service of this deity

You are willing to face major changes in your life outside your spiritual practice — dedicating to a deity often leads to major shifts that may affect our career, family, and/or relationships

If you answered “yes” to all of the above, dedication may be appropriate. This may seem overly cautious, but remember that dedicating to a deity is a serious, lifelong commitment akin to joining the clergy. For context, it takes at least five years of study and practice to become a Catholic priest, a similar amount of time to become a Jewish rabbi, and three years to become a high priest/ess in Traditional Wicca. If you don’t have the patience to maintain a relationship for a few years before dedication, that is probably a good indicator that dedication isn’t for you.

If you are dedicated to a deity or are planning to dedicate, you may actually choose to attend seminary or receive some other formal religious training. This training will help you to better serve your deity in a public capacity, as you will learn skills like religious counselling, leading ritual, and building community. If your program of study includes ordination, it will also allow you to perform legally binding religious rituals like marriage ceremonies. Depending on your path, attending seminary or training may be your act of formal dedication.

Finally, let me make it clear that dedication does not make you a better pagan than someone who is not dedicated. The choice to dedicate or not dedicate is only one element of your spiritual practice, and it is possible to have a fulfilling and life-affirming practice without dedication. Some of the people who do the most work in the service of the gods are not dedicated to them. You may be one of these people, and that is totally okay.

Patron/matron relationships are a specific type of dedication.

The concept of patron deities comes from Wicca and related neopagan religions. As we’ve previously discussed, Wicca is a duotheistic system with a God and Goddess, whose union is the source of all creation. However, because Wiccans believe that all gods are manifestations of the God and all goddesses are manifestations of the Goddess, some covens choose to work with the God and Goddess in the form of other deities (say, for example, Osiris and Isis), which are referred to as the coven’s “patron” and “matron” deities. In these covens, initiation into the coven’s mysteries (traditionally in the form of first, second, and third degree initiations) typically acts as a form of dedication to these deities.

As Eclectic Wicca has gained popularity in the last few decades, there has been a growing trend of individual Wiccans and eclectic pagans choosing personal patron and/or matron deities. Some Wiccans will have a single god or goddess they are dedicated to, while others feel that it is very important to be dedicated to exactly one masculine deity and exactly one feminine deity. This second model is the one I see most often in online pagan spaces, especially Tumblr and TikTok.

The patron/matron model can be useful for some pagans, but it is not one-size-fits-all. As I mentioned, this model of dedication comes from Wicca, and is a very modern concept. In ancient pagan religions, most people would not have been dedicated in this way. That does not mean that this isn’t a valid form of worship (it absolutely is), but it does mean that those who practice reconstructionist paths may not be inclined to interact with deity this way.

The guidelines for patron/matron relationships are similar to the guidelines for dedication in general, but these relationships often (but not always) have a more parental nature. For some people, having a divine mother and/or father figure is ideal — especially for those who are healing from parental trauma or abuse. If you feel drawn to this type of deity relationship, I encourage you to explore it.

On the other hand, you may not have any interest in the patron/matron model, and that’s totally fine! It’s called polytheism for a reason — if you prefer to maintain less formal relationships with many gods, you should feel free to do so.

I hope this post has helped clarify some of the murkier aspects of polytheism and deity work. Obviously, this is only the tip of the iceberg — I could write a book about this topic and many, many authors already have. However, I think the information here is enough to get you started, and I hope that it will provide a first step on your journey with your gods.

Resources:

Wicca for Beginners by Thea Sabin

A Witches’ Bible by Janet and Stewart Farrar

The Spiral Dance by Starhawk

Where the Hawthorn Grows by Morgan Daimler

The Way of Fire and Ice by Ryan Smith

Jessi Huntenburg (YouTuber), “Dancing with Deity | Discovering Gods, Goddesses, and Archetypes,” “Archetype, Deity, and Inviting Transpersonal Experience,” and “10 Ways to Bond with Deity”

Kelly-Ann Maddox (YouTuber), “How to Have Deep Connections with Deities”

[lucky4in]

Magic Interferes in New Orleans

Prompts from Piccadilly's book #3

Words used: ☆matriarch ☆throat ☆impossible ☆vinegar ☆apology ☆slice ☆microwave ☆raspberry ☆choose ☆snore

God! I can't take it. The dread is killing me. I'm losing all the blood in my fingers with how tight I'm squeezing the steering wheel. The honking around me is not helping. I can feel everyone's fear collectively as we sit in agitated traffic. Stress. Fault. Jitteriness. Indifference. Panic, panic, panic.

God, I hate being an empath. I can't even hear my own thoughts. I need to breath! Yeah. Take deep breaths. I'm not far from the U-turn lane. So what if traffic is moving 1 millimeter a minute? The storm can't be faster.

Hooooonk!

Beepbeep!

I have to get out of this situation before I have a sensory overload.

From my front and my rear, I'm surrounded by vehicles. I can't move back, I'll hit someone. I can't move up, because they'll think there's space to move and I'll be more stuck than before. Looking to my right I realize the road across the gate is fairly empty. That last car I saw go that way was 40 something minutes ago.

I gulp loosening my grip from the wheel but still holding it firmly in my palms. Taking a breath I turn the wheel and step on the gas. My car races through the grass and crashes though the metal gates. With a screech, my tires are finally rolling and I'm off. Towards the dark clouds like a fool running blindly into a lions den.

When I finally catch sight of the curling palm trees and the flying debris, my weariness is replaced by anger. We had a plan. A simple schedule. Prepare emergency food, water, and medicine, flashlights and documents, locate nearest shelters, fill up gas tank, clear the yard, and turn off the power. When the evacuation order is set, I would be too far away at the time, so my husband would get the kids from home and we...would...evecuate.

Evacuate.

We would meet at the nearest shelter with our separate cars...

Unfortunately, my...sweet...dearest mother decided to take it upon herself to pick up the kids herself...and NOT evacuate. Instead, she wanted her grand babies to feel safe during the storm and cook them a nice meal...at her house.

I almost had a heart attack when my husband said they weren't there. Instead, a note was attached to the fridge reassuring us that my elementary school kids, including a baby, did not infact disappear off the face of the earth. She wants them to feel less threatened and stressed over this "flood nonsense". Make it seem like a regular thunder storm.

Except it's not a thunder storm! It's a hurricane!

I told my husband not to worry about it, I will get the kids and be ok. The hurricane is suppose to be a bad one, the weather man said. Anything left undemolished by the storm by the end of this would be a miracle. Hopefully it won't be my sanity. I swear, she's impossible.

By the time I get to her house, the streets are flowing with water and clawing up her driveway like waves at a beach. I step out and my shoe kerplunks into the water. I groan, feeling my ears eject hot steam. I stomp onto her porch with a squish, squish, squish and jam the key into the lock.

I kick the door open and slam it shut, my anger seeming to accelerate as soon I step inside. I cringe a bit, noticing my youngest asleep on the couch.

"DON'T SLAM MY DO-" my mother sticks her head out through the kitchen doorway and spots me.

"-Oh, hi baby!"

I stretch a tight smile, coaxing my child back to sleep. "Hello, mother."

"You came just in time. I just need to get a few things done before we eat."

And there she is. Like always. Not worrying about a thing while marinating apple cider vinegar on peices of pork. Probably to slice into the-

Sniff, sniff.

-gumbo. Her calm persona was infuriating. Almost insulting.

"Too bad my son in law couldn't be here. He'd love to stuff his face with the beignets" she continues.

"He's at the shelter. Kinda like we're suppose to be" I say, honey tounged and all "which begs the question..." I lean in, my palms face down on the table. "Why aren't we there right now?" I sneer, bringing my voice down.

"Because there's no need to. You know that" she says simply.

"Maybe in your case, but not mine. You just felt entitled to do things your way. Like you always do. I had everything under control and-and you had me worried."

"You know nothing was going to happen to these kids. I knew nothing was really wrong."

"If you really felt so aloof about this, you should have stayed yourself. You can't just up and take my kids like that. We've talked about this."

She finally looks at me, turning away from her task. "I should be free to see my own grand kids whenever I want to."

"I would have probably excepted that, if we weren't in the middle of a god damn hurricane-"

"Momma! Momma look!"

I was interrupted by my two children excitedly telling me that a pie was on the way. All while showing me their hands, proof of a raspberry massacre. Animated. Passion. Triumph. Pleasant. I ruffle their heads with a quick "good job" and they ran off together. Their happiness almost cures my frustration. It does calm me down a bit though.

"Is is so much to want to keep your family safe" my mother asks.

Aaaaaaand its back.

"Is it so much to just listen to me? To just let me do things my way? I am in no less danger than you are just because I dont have the same... tools that you do."

"It looks like it puts you in a lot of danger if you have to evacuate the city. You could simply come here so momma can protect you."

"That makes me look like a normal person, mom. The streets are already flooding and a ton of people just saw me go the opposite direction. I look stupid and suspicious." I'm taken back to my teen years. Having a similar conversation with my mother. "Not everything can be solved with your protection. I can make my own decisions. But instead you undermine me and tamper with everything around you. Just because I dont have it, doesn't mean I cant keep my family safe or simply be a mother. How about, for once, you let mother nature do her job."

"Your father made this house with his bare hands, rehydrating himself with his sweat. No one is touching this house. Not even Cosmo's or Gaia or whatever." She huffs and turn away. A puff of steam emerges over her head, indicating she opened the pot of Gumbo.

"Well, when your the Matriarch, you can start making the rules around here."

Realizing an apology isn't coming, I groan restricting myself from wrapping my hands around her throat. Its silence between us, as there is after every altercation. Especially when the house is mentioned, cause it's always Papa's house. He passed away before I could even learn to speak his name. Mama always told us about Papa. How she met him, how he put her on her feet and built a house for her (it was told he even built the bricks holding this house up), how his devotion to his family and the love of his life lasted until death did them part.

"What makes you think I'm going to be the next Matriarch?" I ask, slipping in the kitchen chair.

"You will. It's a family tradition that you need to uphold. And you are the only girl conceived by me." She answers, this sounds almost rehearsed.

"Why don't the others take your place?" I ask, for the millionth time.

"It's only rare that a boy has ever been in place of a woman. And once a girl was brought in, he was removed immediately."

"If it's that simple then crown them and get it over with."

"Oh, do you think it's that easy"? She quizzes, slowly turning to me.

"Knowing you, probably not."

"Hyde is much more coordinated than that. If they really didn't think you were worthy, we would have known, but I always knew you were special."

Here she goes again. Hyde,, is supposedly the person that gifts the family with magic, life, and girls. It's the spirirt who thrones and dethrones us. No matter who we are. According to mom, the next Matriarch could be good or bad, Hyde has a plan for them in the end.

Along with Papa's stories, Hyde was always directed towards me because I was the only girl, excluding my half sister. Truthfully there was no way to know if Hyde was actually real. I'm not even sure if my parents have seen it. Mom would tell me tales at night of different women throughout our generation, chosen by Hyde and how I would be like them someday.

Perfect.

"Hyde doesn't give you this gift for no reason" mom reassures "they always have a plan. You can't see everything in a negative light. What if Hyde chooses Clio and you-"

I stop her at the mention of my youngest name.

"I'm not putting that responsibility on my kid" I say sternly, though It probably won't matter what I tell her "Especially if, no offense, she ends up like you. Completely dependent on Hyde's gift. IT didn't give me any when I was born, like the rest of you, and I'd like it to stay that way."

Silence once more.

"Perhaps you're afraid-"

"I'm not afraid-"

"-its okay."

"-Of this imaginary ghost."

"Sure, keep believing that. But when it happens~" she sings.

"When it happens to me, pigs will fly" I sneer, memories of that same sing song tone prodding at me.

She says nothing.

"Just let it go mom, it's just not meant to be. I'm not a child that you can hide under your wings when hail comes. However your gifts came to be, Hyde, the house, whatever, it must've skipped a generation."

She continues to stir. She sputters "but-but the family-"

"-The family doesn't know what's best for me and neither do you. I know I'm the only daughter to the Matriarch. I know I wasn't born with any gifts like my siblings. I know refusing my path makes me an ungrateful child and Hyde will handle me" I say reciting what I also heard throughout my life "But that's not my life. And I'm not defenseless."

She freezes. More silence.

"And, I mean, it's not like having voodoo is easy. It consumes you and it messes a lot of things up. This worlds order and the next."

"That's what the council is for" my mom mutters finally.

"Oh, right. The council. The same family who's just as dependent as you. Do you even remeber a time where you haven't used your gift and actually did things yourself?"

...

...

"Don't you ever think of letting go of this life? Doing things for yourself and not the family? Hyde? Papa's house? I notice how this changes you as you age. If this is the answer to our problems I wouldn't mind the sea taking this house away for a while-"

"Mama! Mama!"

"Wow, look."

I follow my kids voices and they seek for me, a glimmer of wonder and awe in there wide pupils. My 2 boys are pointing to the window in the living room. My sleeping child is now up, standing on her toes to see what her brothers are looking at.

As I begin to walk In the living room, they're rushing back to the kitchen. I take a peek and see a part of the lawn, including my rental car but the road and the neighborhood is gone. A large amount of visible debris is covering up the world around-

No.

No.

That's not debris. That's not wind.

I follow my kids. They've opened the screen door and ventured into the back yard. I race after them and stop in my tracks. The water barrier has followed us to the backyard. My kids are screaming and dancing in the sprinklers as the hurricane is trapping us in its second eye. The oceanic barrier is circling around is, refusing to touch the property. With my kids instructions I look up, the sky is dark above us like it's the dead of night, yet inside the barrier, its murky like a cloudy day.

I can't concentrate. Excitment. Curiosity. Shock. Chills.

I sigh as my daughter wobbles to me and I scoop her in my arms. I can see it now, worst hurricane in 6 years and the Crobitt house still stands. This is similar but not related to the instance when a pair of swings at the run down school across the house seemingly froze in the air a few years ago... CIA is currently investigating...

I gather my children inside, they were starting to go towards the rushing ocean and who knows what'll happen. I shut the door with a defeated sigh and sulk at the table. The beneits sit gracefully with their powder sugar and I worship it by stuffing it in my mouth.

"I told you..."

I look up. My mothers eyes are glowing that familiar bright green and she has that devious smirk on her face. She always gave me that look as a child as if she's trying to tell me something. That, or it's to prove something, which I still dont know. I dont think I ever will.

"...you're father built this house. No one is taking it from me..."

...

...

"Now, elbows off the table."

-------

If you like to write or be creative, perhaps you need inspiration, go check out this book! Its the best!

[stranger-writer]

A Bowers’ Bet (Part 3)

Sorry for the long wait on this one! I hope you enjoy!

Summary: When Henry and Patrick make a twisted pact on who can steal Derry High’s most inexperienced student’s virginity first, they think it will be their most exciting game yet. But what happens when one starts to develop feelings, while the other is determined as ever to win, no matter what or who is standing in their way? A Bowers Bet (Part 2)

On Saturday morning, Juliet’s parents left for an overnight for one of her father’s business trips. Her mom typically went along with him, but only if it consisted of a night or two and if Jennifer’s mother was going along as well. Juliet met her close friend Jennifer through their dads since they both worked for the same company. Their families were persistent in upholding their respectable, high status in Derry. Jennifer’s mom, Theresa, was a lawyer, a very dignified woman that Juliet quite admired. However in Jennifer’s case, having two successful parents who were hardly ever home meant coping with her loneliness by excessively and maybe even purposely, using her parent’s credit card when they were gone. 

Juliet knew a shopping trip was in order, Jennifer always planned one whenever both parents were out of town. Even though the two girls have been best friends for years, their personalities couldn’t be any more polar opposite. Jennifer’s track record of guys is impressive while Juliet’s is clean, Jennifer cheerleads while Juliet is in literary club, Jennifer is the life of the party while Juliet has only been to two in her lifetime. But that’s kind of what makes their friendship work. They each have a tendency of balancing each other out and sometimes bringing out different side to them that no one would expect.

Juliet has the devil on her right shoulder and the angel on her left as she sat in the car with Jennifer, deciding if she should tell her about Henry or just keep her mouth shut. Deep down she knew what her reaction would be, but maybe if she explained everything from the poem and how wonderful last night went, she’d understand. Although at the moment, Jennifer was much too preoccupied with going on and on about how Gretta was sabotaging her by making the cheer team wear their hair entirely up instead of having the option to do half up, half down.

“The whole school is going to see my huge fucking dumbo ears because she needs the attention taken off of her horrendous overbite,” Jennifer hisses before changing the radio station. Juliet quietly chuckles at her as the only sound between them is the low hum of Mick Jagger and the harsh wind from the windows being slightly open.

 “You’re quiet,” Jennifer states in her typical blunt manner, eyes on the road, being able to read Juliet without even having to look at her. 

“No I’m not,” Juliet defends, staring out the window, knowing if she as much glances towards her direction she’ll crack.

“Juliet we have known each other since we were eight. At this point, I know you almost better than I know myself. Tell.” 

Juliet slowly turns her head towards her while biting down on her lip, trying to hide her immense blushing and smirk just from the thought of Henry before letting out a soft giggle. Jennifer begins to gasp, knowing the look on Juliet’s face means only one thing. “Stop it right now! Who’s the guy?!” Jennifer rushes, her eyes widening with pure anticipation.

“Well...,” Juliet hums smiling, causing Jennifer to slightly swerve the car a little too far to the right.  

“Juliet,” Jennifer warns in her typical voice that means “stop beating around the bush and say it.” 

“W-well it’s just like, Ugh-I don’t know, i-it’s nothing serious yet, but-”

“For fucks sake Juliet, I hate when you stutter like that kid Bill Denbrough, just spit it out,” Jennifer demands, her patience running thin.

“I went on a date last night with Henry Bowers,” Juliet responds, causing Jennifer to slam on her brakes in the middle of the neighborhood, causing Juliet’s body to be yanked to the point where she almost got rammed into the glove compartment. “Jesus Jennifer,” Juliet scolds, rubbing the back of her neck from the sudden jolt she experienced from the abrupt stop of the car.

“Henry Bowers?” Jennifer pronounces the name slowly, her tone in disbelief mixed with a whole lot of judgement and well, repugnance. “Have you lost your mind? You were too scared to ask the waiter for ketchup last week, but you went on a date with Henry fucking Bowers? Please tell me you only went because he had you held up at gunpoint.”

Juliet knew how unbelievable it sounded coming out of her mouth, but how could she convince her that it was one of the best times out she’s ever had?

“I get it. I know his reputation, but he’s-he’s different, I swear, he-”

“God Juliet, don’t be so naive,” Jennifer interrupts, rolling her eyes. “Henry is known as Derry’s scum for a reason. He’s dirty. He’s gross. And even worse,” Jennifer pauses, her nose scrunching in disgust, “He’s poor.”

Juliet’s fingers begin to rub her temples in distress, immediately regretting her decision of even mentioning Henry to her in the first place. Jennifer finally takes her foot off the brakes and continues driving, but her rant was far from over. “I mean come on Jules, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. That whole gang is fucked up. They only flirt with girls like you for one reason.” Jennifer states, having a hard time deciphering how she should choose her words without being a little too brutally honest.

Juliet snaps her eyes away from the passing houses from the window and swung her head to face her. “And what’s that?” Juliet persists defensively, her eyes piercing at Jennifer.

Jennifer huffs, her stare intent while looking out onto the road contemplating what to say next. “Because you’re an easy target,” Jennifer murmurs, her voice low, but more calm. “You have never been seen at school with a boyfriend or really any guy for that matter and they can smell your inexperience from a mile away. He’s using you. I’m sorry, but guys like Henry don’t fall for girls like you.”

Juliet could feel some tears begging to break loose, but she pushes the feeling aside. “You mean girls who are at the bottom of the school’s hierarchy?”

“You know that’s not what I mean. You’re beautiful and smart and kind and deserve somebody better than Bowers. I’m just telling you his intentions can’t be good. Him and the other ones hit on every girl that has a pulse,” Jennifer responds, sticking an unlit cigarette in her mouth before she continues on and says, “They see someone shy and untouched like you giving them a chance and go fucking ecstatic.”

“That’s not true,” Juliet mutters, shaking her head in defense while staring down at her hands nestled on top of her lap. “Henry told me he would never hurt me and that I was safe with him.” There was a part of Juliet that could feel herself sounding like one of those girls she would roll her eyes at in a cheesy romance movie. Was it honestly too good to be true?

“I know you try to live your life trying not to be noticed, but guess what? You are. People see you. Henry sees you. He sees someone fragile, someone who he thinks he can easily control and manipulate.” Jennifer responds before taking a puff of her cigarette.

“You are always telling me how I should loosen up and try to put myself out there more, and now you’re giving me shit for finally going out with someone?” Juliet chides, her voice slightly raising. Juliet could tell she was getting irritated because she started talking not only loudly, but with her hands.

“Yeah Juliet, but that wasn’t secret code for me telling you to go out with the school’s biggest psychopath and not even tell me about it beforehand. What the fuck were you thinking?” Jennifer scolds, her tone harsh, making Juliet recoil in her seat. An awkward and tension-filled silence immerses in the car, causing the two close friends to suddenly feel distant.

Jennifer finally breaks the stillness and says, “Look. We’re going to the mall. Let’s get you a cute outfit for Gretta’s party tonight and you can come with me and you’ll see that you’re more than capable of meeting someone who isn’t a total delinquent.”

Juliet wanted nothing more than to decline her offer that sounded like a demand than an option, but it’s bad enough she had to keep Henry from her mother, she didn’t need Jennifer added onto the list and on her case about it as well. She thought maybe if she just went for a bit and pretended for Jennifer’s sake, she’d make everyone happy.

“Fine,” Juliet huffs, slouching back in her seat while crossing her arms.

Juliet is used to having to deal with what life throws at her alone. Between having a mother and best friend who shares similar traits of being dismissive and controlling, she felt like she was always more worried about pleasing other people instead of worrying about what actually made her happy. Henry gave Juliet a certain kind of attention that she wasn’t used to receiving from anyone. He made her feel understood, special, pretty enough, smart enough, but most importantly, Henry made Juliet feel like being herself was good enough. Juliet wasn’t going to let anybody get in the way of that. Not this time.

………………………………………………………………………………………

The last party Juliet attempted going to was last December. Similar to now, Jennifer begged and convinced her how much of a good time it’d be until it resulted in Tyler Brian barfing all over Juliet’s lap mid-conversation. She can only hope that history won’t repeat itself.

The black dress Jennifer picked for her was slightly sexy, but not too much to where it strayed far from Juliet’s character. The sweetheart neckline was cute with a very tiny black bow that was attached right in the middle. It was also a quarter sleeve and babydoll style. Jennifer pleaded that she wear heels, however, Juliet absolutely refused because she didn’t want to meet anyone new in the first place and her leather black booties would go just fine with it. To no surprise, Jennifer handled not only her wardrobe, but makeup too. She blushed and hollowed out her cheekbones, glossed her lips, and applied some cat eyeliner to enhance her eye shape, which surprisingly Juliet liked, even if she did still have to wear her glasses over them. 

Juliet’s knee was uncontrollably bouncing up and down the whole ride there. She could already hear the music blaring from outside before they even drove up to the house. Her heart almost jumped in her throat though when she saw the infamous Trans Am parked in the sea of cars that were in Gretta’s driveway, causing her leg to stop shaking. Oh no. As soon as Jennifer parked along the sidewalk, she turned the ignition off and began clapping her hands fast in an excited way. “We’re here! You ready?”

No.

“Yeah!” Juliet exclaims in her best, fake eager voice she could muster.

When they walked inside the large, red brick house, Juliet immediately sees a staircase decorated with people from school either talking, smoking, or making out. Her eyes shift to the left where it was the Keene’s living room, but was currently being occupied as a dance floor flooded with sweat, alcohol, and hormones.

Juliet didn’t want to admit to herself that she couldn’t help but feel somewhat paranoid Henry was here. Would he be happy to see her? Confused? Angry? “Let’s go grab a drink,” Jennifer yells in Juliet’s ear because of the blaring music, interrupting her thoughts. Juliet nods as they walk down the hall to where more couples were lingering on the sides of the wall, kissing.  

When Jennifer walked into the kitchen, she was immediately greeted by Gretta and a few other girls as well as a group of boys who hollered at her as soon as she stepped in. Juliet lingered by her side.

It wasn’t hard for Juliet to not feel Gretta’s typical judgemental stare as she eyed her up and down. Moments like this was the reason why Juliet would never want to be able to read minds. “Interesting seeing you here Juliet,” Gretta sneers in a tone that could only be described as condescending and then says, “Nice dress. For once it doesn’t look like something your grandmother picked out.” This causes a fit of giggles from her posse that are attached at her hip.

“Nice frizzy ponytail that you wear every single day,” Jennifer quickly intervenes before grabbing Juliet’s hand to lead her near the sink where all the glass bottles of drinks were laid out. “Your ability to be quick on the spot never fails to impress me,” Juliet smirks while nudging her shoulder with hers, earning a wink from Jennifer.

“Here,” Jennifer offers, handing Juliet a red solo cup. “It’ll ease the nerves,” she grins with a mischievous glint in her eyes before taking a sip. Juliet gave her a small smile, deciding it would be best to at least try it. Her eyebrows raise immediately at the strong concoction Jennifer mixed together, deciding it would be best to not finish this unless she wants to be found blacked out on the front lawn.

“Shots time!” Peter Macintosh shouted, his cheeks flushed from what was most likely the high amount of alcohol he has already consumed. He was a heavy set guy, who for some reason always looked sweaty and wore his jersey pretty much everyday. He was only useful on the team for his size since he could tackle just about anyone. This was Juliet’s que to relocate elsewhere for a few minutes.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom real quick,” Juliet says while lightly grasping Jennifer’s arm.

“Use the one upstairs. The bathroom that’s down the hall is always where Tommy Johnson and Pam Kirkland are fucking each other’s brains out,”Jennifer informs, physically shuddering at the thought of when she had accidentally interupted one of their sessions last time.

“Good to know,” Juliet chuckles, shaking the vivid thought away before nudging her way through the intoxicated crowd that was beginning to form. Once she reached the staircase and begins walking up them, she couldn’t help the strange feeling like someone had their eyes on her.

…………………………………………………………………………………

“Any fucking time now Criss,” Henry huffs, waiting for Vic to hand him a cigarette while he was pulling one out of his pack. He was in his usual, typical annoyed stance with his arms crossed while leaning against the house, impatient as ever. Him, Patrick, Vic, and Belch were huddled outside on the back patio smoking, each with a beer bottle in their hands. 

Casey Fletcher walked by them and Belch couldn’t help but turn around to get another last glance at her ass before turning back around to face his friends. “Is it just me or is there a lot of hot chicks here tonight?” Belch asks, swigging his beer back.

Vic nodded, seeming to still be mesmerized at Casey’s backside as Henry only shrugged. Belch and Patrick give each other a knowing look, seeing how that reaction wasn’t a normal one for Henry. This would be the part where he agreed and told them what he’d like to do with a girl who had an ass like that. But tonight he was off and they could all tell.

“What’s the matter Bowers, don’t see a bitch here we can share like last week?” Patrick taunts. Henry rolls his eyes, remembering the dumb blonde girl whose name he didn’t even know because well, he didn’t even ask. She wanted to take turns which resulted in Patrick having his first go and once he was finished he tossed her right over to Henry.

“All I see are a bunch of easy sluts who try too hard,” Henry utters under his breath, checking briefly over the girls who are standing on the other side of the pool who were unshamefully giving, as the gang would call it, their best “fuck me” eyes. 

Vic snickers before he mumbles, “Somebody’s whipped,” causing a breathy chuckle from Belch and Patrick.

“The fuck you say?” Henry asked, but it was in fact a warning.

“He said your whipped man,” Patrick responds for Vic before he continues and says, “Pretty little Juliet most have swept ole Henry here off his feet. Awh, how sweet is that?” This causes an amused reaction out of the boys. Patrick knew what he was doing. He wanted to get a rise out of Henry. He wanted to edge him on. Rile him up. Make him do something that could work out in his favor. 

“I ain’t fucking whipped alright. Has anyone forgotten that she’s just a fuckin’ bet? All I got from last night is that she’s just another needy bitch with mommy issues who’ll jump at the chance to spread her legs if it means adding some excitement to her boring life,” Henry responds, the words tasting disgusting coming out of his own mouth. He didn’t mean what he said, but he refuses to have his friends, especially Patrick, thinking she has even in the slightest, meddled her way into his stone cold heart.

Patrick however, knows his bluff. He hid in the woods and eavesdropped last night when Juliet and him were in the treehouse. He knew that she in fact wasn’t exactly easy considering she freaked the minute Bowers touched the waistband of her panties, but secondly, he knew Henry opened up a bit about his dad to her. Patrick couldn’t tell if that was a ploy to get her to feel bad for him or if he was being genuine. However his lack of eagerness to get any action tonight is evident that Henry might in fact be developing the worst F word in his book. Feelings. 

“Sounding a little cocky there Bowers,” Patrick responds, crossing his arms over his chest.

Henry laughs before saying, “Says you. At this point you should honestly just call the fucking bet off. She was all over me last night and I think she's made it clear that she wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole. Face it Hockstetter, I’ll have her underneath me by next week.”

If Patrick wasn’t certain before, he is definitely certain now. He could see what Henry was trying to do. Persuading him to call the bet off so he can walk away hands clean with the girl who he thought was just another mediocre virgin to fuck in Derry. No. As far as Patrick is concerned, Juliet belongs to him. Henry can try to convince Patrick all he wants that he has no chance, but he remembers that look Juliet gave him in the movie theater. He sees how she’s into Henry regardless of his well known, fucked up reputation. Henry and him were one in the same. Patrick knows the kind of girl Juliet is. She’s attracted to people who are broken, people who need to be fixed. That’s the only reason why she instantly fell for Henry first, because she thinks there’s hope for him. Patrick has no problem playing his part until she sees the truth.

“If you think she’ll easily fuck you first then why call the bet off early? Isn’t that the whole point why we made it in the first place?” Patrick retorted, his cheshire grin growing from ear to ear. Henry could hear the teasingness in his tone and realized that Patrick could sense what he was trying to get at, so Henry attempted to play it off the best way he could. “I’m just sayin.’ You got a lot of catching up to do Hockstetter. Thought I’d be nice and give you a little warning to save you from the embarrassment later,” Henry smirks while patting him on the back.

“I appreciate that,” Patrick responds, reciprocating the action by giving Henry’s shoulder a friendly pat, but instead he doesn’t release his shoulder and pulls him in closer, his mouth inches away from his ear. “But the only one who’s going to be embarrassed here is you when I’m balls deep inside your little girlfriend’s tight virgin pussy, wrecking her fucking insides.”

Henry has to physically bite his tongue on the right side of his mouth to prevent from attacking him on the spot. At the end of the day, Juliet is technically a bet that Henry conjured up in the first place. Henry couldn’t show any possession over her, no matter how much he likes her, no matter how crazy it drove him. He releases an amused huff, wishing he could actually drown him in the pool.

“But for now,” Patricks states, his tone a lot more uplifting as he wipes the shoulders of Henry’s jacket, “Let’s play with what we’ve got right here.” He grins, referring to one of the girls that was staring at them earlier with his pointer and middle finger.

Henry knew if he turned down the offer, he’d look like the biggest bitch of all time. What guy says no to pretty girls practically yearning to get any sort of attention from them? But the thing was that these girls weren’t Juliet. They didn’t look like her, act like her, or even laugh like her, but all Henry could do is play along and keep the twisted mentality that whatever Juliet doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

The brunette Patrick beckoned over, whose name was apparently Tracy, seemed to be the most interested in Henry, however, she was quite the talkative one. She wasn’t getting Henry’s not so subtle signs of disinterest in conversation as he responded to everything with a monotone one worded answer and the habitual way he continuously kept flicking his pocket knife in and out. Patrick and Vic actually got so bored they ended up ditching Henry and thought walking over to the other side of the lawn to watch a drunk Peter barbecue Doritos was a much better source of entertainment.

Patrick and Vic started to make their way back to Henry, Tracy, and Belch, passing the patio’s white french doors again until Vic’s clunky, black combat boots come to a stop. 

“Oh shit!” Vic busts out laughing, which causes Patrick to turn around and see what the hell was so funny. Patrick stalks slowly towards him and mimiks his stance. “Look who showed up,” Vic smirks right as Patrick sees Juliet on the other side of the clear glass door. He licks his lips, taking in her appearance. Her all black, short dress is enough for him to already feel a slight hard on in his jeans. Her hair was down and loose like usual, with her petite glasses still adorning her face, but the fact that she was wearing clothes that actually fit her and the more heavily applied makeup made the two boys have no choice but to gawk at her for a minute. 

“Damn. She looks hot,” Vic observed, crouching behind a bush so the two could have a closer look without their ogling being too obvious. “But I wonder what she’s doing here. I’ve never seen her at parties and I know Henry didn’t invite her.”

“I don’t know why the hell she’s here either Vic, but it must be my lucky fucking day,” Patrick mutters, staring at her intently. He could tell that regardless of how good she looked, she was uncomfortable. The way she kept glancing at the ground and the nervous way she was toying with her necklace was a clear sign that she didn’t wake up this morning and say “there’s nothing more I’d love to do today than go to a wild high school party.” Patrick felt sort of jealous, hating how he wasn’t behind the cause of her anxiety at the moment. Soon though.

“I gotta go tell Henry, he’s going to absolutely lose his shit,” Vic chuckles all giddy, getting ready to stand up before Patrick grabs him by the collar, yanking him harshly back down.

“Don’t say a word to him that she’s here or I’ll fucking cut your tongue out and make you wipe my ass with it. I want to see the look on that fucker’s face when he sees her here himself,” Patrick sternly warns, not wanting to tell Vic exactly what he has planned.

“Alright, Jesus I won’t. Let go of me dick bag,” Vic shrugs, nudging Patrick’s grip off him. Vic brushes the knees of his camo pants and starts to walk back towards Henry again. He couldn’t feel Patrick’s presence near him and his senses were proven right when he turns around and sees Patrick stepping into the house, closing the door behind him. Vic quietly snickered to himself, knowing it was only a matter of time before shit was about to hit the fan.  

When Patrick enters the house, he spots Juliet down the hall. He watches and follows behind her closely before she reaches the steps and carefully walks up the stairs while holding the banister. As soon as she gets to the top, that’s Patrick’s que to begin heading up there as well.

……………………………………………………………………………

Juliet started analyzing the Keene’s bathroom decorations, realizing exactly what she was starting to do. Quit stalling, she thought to herself before shaking her head and giving herself one last glance over in the mirror before opening the door.

As she was walking she heard what sounded like a muffled scream coming from one of the rooms on the right hand side. She stopped and slowly tiptoed her way closer to the door until Juliet heard a girl’s moaning and then it all clicked. Oh.

“Sounds like fun,” a voice says, making Juliet frantically spin around to see none other than Patrick Hockstetter.

“Patrick, hey! I didn’t see you there,” Juliet smiles nervously, having no clue how someone with his height can have this special talent to pop up out of nowhere.

“Listening in?” he questions with a smirk, the sound of the headboard banging into the wall now apparent.

“No! Oh, god no,” Juliet laughs, running a hand through her hair. “I was using the bathroom and came out and heard a girl screaming and got nervous for a sec, but uhm- yeah I, uhh, thinks she alright,” she chuckles, making Patrick simper from her innocent response.

“So what brings you here?” Patricks asks.

“I just told y-”

“No, I mean like the party. I’ve never seen you at any before,” Patricks states, leaning on the side of his shoulder and resting his head against the wall.

“Jennifer wanted me to go with her so I thought I’d just come for a little while,” Juliet explained, not wanting to get into detail as to why Jennifer insisted on her being here tonight.

“Henry didn’t invite you?” Patrick asks, his eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. Juliet shakes her head, feeling stupid that the boy she just went on a date with last night was at the same party, but she was trying to almost avoid him for reasons she didnt know why. 

“Huh. Weird,” Patrick quietly mutters under his breath. sliding his shoulder alongside the wall to inch closer to her. His response suddenly made Juliet feel self conscious. How come he didn’t ask her to go to Gretta’s party? Was he embarrassed of her? Maybe he knew she didn’t go to parties and thought it’d be stupid to even ask?

“You’re not having fun are you?” Patrick observes, a sly smile forming on his lips.

“I mean I’ve only been here for about fifteen minutes, 7 of those minutes I’ve spent in the bathroom so…” Jennifer bites down on her lip, suppressing a shy smirk which made it extremely difficult for Patrick to restrain himself from pushing her into one of the empty bedrooms. 

“Does Henry even know you’re here?” Patrick asks, and it’s like Juliet can feel he already knows the answer.

“No I haven’t seen him yet. Like I said, I really haven’t been here very long,” Juliet explains, twirling her necklace between her fingers. Patrick notices the nervous habit and begins to feel exhilarated.

“Well he’s right downstairs. Let’s go surprise him, he’ll be thrilled to see that you’re here, especially since I heard you two uhh...really kicked it off last night,” Patrick winks, grabbing her wrist and leading her down the rest of the hallway. Juliet felt confused in the way Patrick said that, but she couldn’t even think clearly with Patrick practically dragging her so fast that she almost tripped going down the staircase. Once they reached the bottom he motions for her to take the lead as he stands directly behind her. 

“Do you know where he is?”Juliet turns her head to ask him.

“Last I saw he was talking outside to some girl named Tracy,” Patrick responds casually, pretending to search for him in the living room, knowing exactly what he was doing. Juliet couldn’t help but feel the tiny pit in her stomach grow in size. She didn’t know if she was being completely played or acting totally crazy over a boy she has gone out with only one time. 

“C’mon. Maybe he’s still out back,” Patrick says in her ear before walking in front of her as she follows close behind. He opens one of the french doors and she takes in how there’s quite a lot of people out here as well. Between the ones hanging around the perimeter of the pool, or the guys to the far right playing some sort of drunk version of football, Juliet briefly glances around the area. That is, until her eyes suddenly land on Henry’s back. His arm is wrapped around some girl’s waist. She’s whispering something in his ear, causing Henry to smirk as he pulls her in closer, his mouth inches from hers as he says something Juliet can’t hear, but it causes her to start kissing down Henry’s neck.

Patrick notices Juliet has spotted them because of her obvious stare and her face that portrayed nothing but disappointment. “Well that’s not Tracy,” Patrick clears his throat as if what he’s witnessing is awkward, even though he’s the one who perfectly managed to make Juliet catch Henry in the act. 

Suddenly, Belch and Vic walk up to them, the look on their faces completely different. Vic’s was more friendly while Belch’s was full of concern.

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun,” Vic mocks in his best shakespearean voice he can summon while giving a bow.

Juliet swallows her utter dismay and smiles at Vic. “Impressive,” she smirks, causing Vic to grin back at her. Belch interjects when he says, “Hey Juliet, Henry would be so happy to see you here. Let me go get him, I know he’s around here somewhere.” This was his poor attempt to try and cover Henry’s ass, but he knew in that moment it was most likely too late.

“No.” Juliet demands, her voice so stern that it almost surprises herself. The three boys gaze at her in a bit of a shock. “Let’s go say hi to him together,” Juliet offers, putting on a brave face. As much as Juliet just wanted to go home and cry in her room, she realized she was over everyone thinking she was like some china doll that’s could break easily. Her heart may feel broken but it was her mission in that moment to make sure no one saw the cracks.

“O-Okay,” Belch stutters, watching in bewilderment as Juliet takes heading towards Henry. The unknown girl is still draped all over him, but Juliet wasn’t annoyed at the poor girl having a good time. 

Once the three of them approach him, Juliet gently taps him on the shoulder, causing Henry to turn around. His initial face was of pure annoyance until he realizes who’s standing behind him. He quickly yanked his hand away from the blonde’s side and his mouth opened slightly, but no words were coming out.

“Juliet,” Henry observes, taking in her appearance while also in complete shock that’s she even standing in front of him in the first place. A million thoughts and questions were racing through his head, making for once, Henry Bowers actually speechless.

“Hi,” Juliet responds, her voice soft, deliberately acting like she was unfazed. There was a few seconds of awkward silence before the unknown girl helps breaks the ever present tension when she says to Juliet, “I love your dress! I almost bought the same one at the mall, but they didn’t have my size.”

“Thank you! My friend actually picked it out. You see, she wanted me to come to this party to meet someone because I went out with this guy last night who she thinks is a total waste of time. Told me I could do so much better,” Juliet looks so her eyes are now instead staring right into Henry’s. “Turns out she was right.” 

This results in a fit of breathy chuckles coming from Patrick and Vic while Juliet maintains her cool. Henry’s piercing blue eyes were like daggers into hers, but she never once glances down at the ground. Juliet gives him one last glare before turning swiftly around and walks straight back to the house. The most horrible and pathetic part of this whole situation was that there was a part of Juliet that wanted Henry to chase after her. Unfortunately, he never did. Juliet didn’t know why her heart was beating out of her chest or why the back of her neck felt slightly sticky or why she was breathing so hard, but she knew that she could not stay at this party for another second.

Patrick jogs after her, not wanting to lose her in the crazy crowds of people inside. When he steps into the kitchen, he quickly catches her wrist.

“Where ya goin’?” Patrick asks.

“I’m going home,” Juliet states, tucking some hair behind her ear.

“Didn’t you come with Jennifer?”

“Yeah, but I actually live close by so I’m just going to walk,” Juliet responds while her eyes casually search the area for any signs of her best friend. Things were bad enough with Henry, the last thing she needed right now was for Jennifer to see her talking to Patrick Hockstetter of all people. 

“I’ll walk you home,” Patrick demands.

“You don’t need to do that Patrick, I’ll be okay,” Juliet tries to convince him.

“Sorry princess but I’m not taking no for an answer. Your face is too pretty to be on a missing person's poster downtown,” Patrick places his hand at the small of her back, using that as an advantage to guide her through the small crowd of people so they can reach the front door to leave. Juliet didn’t particularly want Patrick’s company, especially now, but he did have a decent point. 

“Okay, just let me find Jen to let her know I’m going,” Juliet explains before Patrick gives her a nod. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

Juliet scouted through the living room first and luckily spots Jennifer on the couch, sitting on Ryan Novack’s lap. “I’m leaving,” Juliet states, making Jennifer get off the jock’s lap, analyzing her intently.

“What do you mean you’re leaving, we just got here.”

“I just don’t really feel that great and I think it’d be best if I went home,” Juliet lied, hoping Jennifer would be easy going. Hoping.

“First about Bowers and now this. Catching your little lying habit from your hillbilly boyfriend?” Jennifer hisses, crossing her tan arms over her chest. Juliet stares at her offensively before Jennifer continues on and says, “Although I guess I shouldn’t talk since I forgot to mention how the Bowers Gang are notorious for getting laid at parties.”

Suddenly, the light bulb goes off in Juliet’s head as she connects all the pieces together. “You brought me here on purpose,” Juliet utters, almost as if she’s saying it aloud to herself.

“Don’t give me that look. I mean how else would you be able to see what a pig he is? You should be thanking me.” 

 “I should be thanking you?” Juliet chuckles in disbelief. “Okay then, thank you for dressing me up and bringing me here to only make me look like a total ass. Congratulations, you proved me wrong. Henry is a total jerk and you’re a complete bitch.” 

Juliet has never spoken to Jennifer like this before in her life, but Juliet’s blood has been boiling since her encounter with Henry and Jennifer wasn’t helping simmer down the heat. Juliet shook her head at Jennifer and darted out of the living room as fast as she could, leaving Jennifer quite dumbstruck. For some strange reason, Juliet didn’t feel bad for saying exactly what was on her mind, even if it hurts her. The only thing that made her heart feel heavy is that the two people she cared about deceived and lied to her in just one single night. And unfortunately, the lanky boy waiting for her outside wasn’t any different.

……………………………………………………………………………

The night air was a little chillier than usual, making Juliet cross her arms over her chest to warm up her hands. Patrick notices the small sign and takes off his leather jacket and drapes it over her shoulders.

“Oh. Thanks,” she smiles at him before slipping her arms through the sleeves. A small smirk plays at her lips when she says, “It’s a perfect fit.” It was comical how huge the jacket was on Juliet. The sleeves were so long that you couldn’t even see her hands.

“It looks good on you. Ya know I’m really digging this whole look you got goin’ on. It’s sexy,” Patrick smirks, tugging slightly at the bottom of her dress.

“It’s definitely different, but I think you pull it off a lot better than me,” Juliet teases, referring to his similar all black ensemble of boots, jeans, and a thin long sleeved shirt. 

“Are you saying I’m sexy Jules?” Patrick smirks while throwing his arm over her shoulder. As shocked as she was, Juliet started to feel a sense of comfortability with him. Nobody besides her family or Jennifer called her Jules, and for some reason hearing Patrick use the nickname gave Juliet a sense of warmth that she didn’t think Patrick was capable of. Juliet thought to herself that Patrick could have easily let her leave the party alone, but he wanted to make sure she was safe whereas Henry let her walk away, not caring whatsoever about where she went or how she felt.

“Patrick?”

“Princess?”

“I want to apologize,” Juliet states, keeping her eyes straight forward as they walked while Patrick looks at her slightly confused. “I just feel like I’ve been rude to you lately and that I was quick to judge you before even actually getting the chance to know you.”

Patrick was beaming with pure ecstasy. He had her right where he wanted her. 

“Don’t sweat it sweetheart,” Patrick responds, petting her head. “If it makes you feel any better, I seriously underestimated you. I didn’t think you had it in ya to tell Bowers off like that.”

“Neither did I,” Juliet chuckles before she says, “But you were right and tried to warn me and I didn’t listen. I’m sorry.” 

Juliet suddenly feels tiny droplets of water speckle across her nose before she realizes that it’s starting to lightly drizzle. In a literal instant, the light drizzle turns into harsh, downpour rain.

“Shit,” Juliet hisses before Patrick grabs her hand and they both begin to run down the sidewalk. They sprint for a few blocks, each step like walking into a giant puddle until Juliet steers Patrick towards the white house that’s hers at the end of the cul-de-sac. They race across Juliet’s soggy lawn and up her creaky wooden porch steps when they finally make it to the front stain glass door.

They both stood there, catching their breaths while taking in each others sopping wet appearances. “This is the second dress in a row Hockstetter. I’m starting to think you’re some kind of bad luck charm to my nice clothes,” Juliet jokes, referring to when he spilled soda on her just last night and now this. Patrick leers at her, his eyes studying her face to her wet hair to the droplets of water on her exposed skin to the way her makeup is slightly smudged. She looked messy and it made Patrick’s appetite for her all the more unbearable. Juliet feels his thumb graze over her knuckles and that’s when she glances down and realizes her hand is still interlocked with his. 

“I’m sorry,” Juliet awkwardly apologizes, slipping her grasp from his and instead placing her hand on the door knob before she rambles on and says, “Please, come in so you can get dried off and wait until this rain passes. It’s the least I can do.”

“If you insist,” Patricks smirks, gesturing his hand out for Juliet to walk first. She obliges and he follows, making sure to lock the door behind him. 

@kola95

[awkwardmuslim]

help! I come from a Jewish family and I’ve been taught that Islam is a terrible religion, that it promotes sexism, and even rape. I however have always ignored this but I see it everywhere in the media but then I see people saying it does support feminism, that women get to choose to wear the Hijab, that rape is wrong, etc I’m sorry if I sound confused or anything, I just need help understanding Islam, and maybe a few pieces of proof showing it’s a religion just as good as Judaism . Thank you!

Hi,You don’t sound confused at all and its really important to ask questions, and look directly at the source than to absorb all the information from the media.So, what I’m going to do is provide you with some scriptures to help you understand Islam more, and answer your question.

Before I show you some of the texts, here is a background of what they are, if you weren’t aware of them. (I apologise in advance for the information overload).

I will quote from two sources: The Quran (Which is the book that was reveal to Muhammad Peace be Upon Him. The Quran is split into chapters, which are known as Surahs) and the Sunnah (Which is a compilation of teachings, saying and deeds of the Prophet Muhammad Peace be Upon Him). 

 The Sunnah was compiled into written format after His death, by which they are known as Hadiths. The two most famous complilations were from Imam Bukhari and Imam Muslim. These compilations are respectably known as Sahih Bukhari, and Sahih Mulim (Sahih meaning authentic). There are other compilations such as; Ibn Majah, Sunan Abu Dawud, Tirmidhi, Al-Nasai, .. all named after the scholars that compiled them, but they contain other grades of hadiths e.g Hasan, meaning reliable.  To understand the difference between the grades requires some studying, because they are based on a chain of narrations and there is a whole science behind it... But, for ease of understanding, I will try and stick to all the Sahih Hadiths in this response. When you see a hadith I have quoted that says “Narrated by …” - That narration is usually from someone who a close companion of the Prophet Muhammad Peace Be Upon Him. Also if you see “ﷺ” - it is just an honorific in arabic which we as muslims attribute to the Prophet Muhammad and it means Peace be Upon Him. We also say Peace Be Upon Him after all of the Prophets in Islam. If you see “رضي الله عنه” or “رضي الله عنها” which are honourifics we use for companions of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, which mean “May God be pleased with Him” or “May God be pleased with her”. Now... Like Judaism, Islam also teaches the 10 commandments, it is also a condition of being muslim, to believe in the the books revealed by God: The Torah revealed to Moses, The Zabur (interpreted as the Book of Psalms) which was revealed to King David, Injil (The Original Gospels) which was revealed to Jesus, and also the Scrolls which were revealed to Abraham, and are now considered to be lost. (May Peace be Upon Them).

We hold all Prophets of God in high regard, in fact Moses (Peace be Upon Him) and Jesus (Peace be Upon Him) are mentioned in the Quran more times than Muhammad Peace be Upon Him.

OK.. are you ready?

Upholding Justice

I’m going to start with this, because in a sense, this bit may answer the majority of your questions.

In the Quran, God commands us to promote justice. So much so, that we should speak up for it even if it is against ourselves.



“You who believe, be steadfast in your devotion to God and bear witness impartially: do not let hatred of others lead you away from justice, but adhere to justice, for that is closer to awareness of God. Be mindful of God: God is well aware of all that you do.”
~ Surah Al-Ma’idah, Verse 8



“You who believe, uphold justice and bear witness to God, even if it is against yourselves, your parents, or your close relatives. Whether the person is rich or poor, God can best take care of both. Refrain from following your own desire, so that you can act justly- if you distort or neglect justice, God is fully aware of what you do.”~ Surah An-Nisa, Verse 135

As you can see, these two verses alone command us to treat people fairly regardless of who they are; even if they are our enemies, we should treat them fairly so they receive justice, and if we do not, we will be held accountable to God. It covers being just in all aspects of life, and not when someone commits wrong against you.

As for choosing to wear hijab…

Wearing the hijab is obligatory in Islam, but the Quran teaches us not to force people into doing something for the sake of religion. This is not just in wearing the hijab but also other aspects of Islam.

“There is no compulsion in religion”~ Surah Al-Baqarah, Verse 256

Instead, we are taught to advise by being polite and using good manners:

“Call people to the way of your Lord with wisdom and good teaching. Argue with them in the most courteous way, for your Lord knows best who has strayed from His way and who is rightly guided.”~ Surah An-Nahl, Verse 125

“By an act of mercy from God, you were gentle in your dealings with them- had you been harsh, or hard-hearted, they would have dispersed and left you - so pardon them and ask forgiveness for them.”~ Surah Ali ‘Imran, Verse 159

Narrated Jabir bin ‘Abdullah رضي الله عنه‎: The Prophet ﷺ said,“Every act of kindness is a Charity.”[Sahih Al-Bukhari: Book 78, Hadith 52]

Narrated Anas bin Malik رضي الله عنه‎: The Prophet ﷺ said,"Make things easy for the people, and do not make it difficult for them, and make them calm (with glad tidings) and do not repulse (them).[Sahih Al-Bukhari: Book 78, Hadith 152]

Is rape wrong?

Rape is a crime that is forbidden in all major religions, and in the minds of anyone who possesses an ounce of sanity.

Islam has a clear stance that states this repugnant action is forbidden and imposes a strict penalty on those that commit rape. The laws of Islam protect a womans honour and chastity and the crime of rape carries a severe punishment. In certain cases it carries the death penalty, should there be no doubt whatsoever that the rapist is guilty.

In Islam, capital punishment for certain crimes can only be undertaken if the evidence is absolutely 100% that the suspect is guilty. This is comparable to certain laws in the US, where a person can be found guilty and face the death penalty even if there is reasonable doubt. 



Does Islam support feminism?Islam identifies men and women both play different roles in society. That doesn’t mean men have more rights than women, it means we share responsibilities between each other. If we take the example of a mother giving birth to a child. No matter how much time a father spends with his child, the bond between the child and the mother will always be stronger. Does that make the father or mother any lesser? No.

Abu Hurairah رضي الله عنه reported that a person said: “Prophet ﷺ, who amongst the people is most deserving of my good treatment?” He ﷺ said: “Your mother, your mother, your mother, then your father, then your nearest relatives according to the order (of nearness)”[Sahih Muslim: Book 45, Hadith 2]

Notice how the mother was mentioned 3 times before the father, this shows the high regard in which a mother is shown.

Islam empowers women, it teaches that what they own belongs to them, and after marriage. The husband cannot take from her earnings to support the household. He must provide for them. That does not mean that the women is lesser because she can not provide for herself, it gives the duty to the man to do so, but at the same time it doesn’t forbid the woman from doing so. It is important to understand this because many that interpret the western meaning of feminism and look into islam, tend to misinterpret this.

“You who believe, it is not lawful for you to inherit women against their will, nor should you treat your wives harshly, hoping to take back some of the bride-gift you gave them, unless they are guilty of something clearly outrageous. Live with them in accordance with what is fair and kind: if you dislike them, it may well be that you dislike something in which God has put much good.”~ Suran An-Nisa, Verse 19

Islam honours women greatly and commands men to treat women with kindness. Even Gold and Silk is forbidden for men to wear, whereas it is permissible for Women!

I hope that is enough to answer your questions.Its great that you’re taking the initiate to ask questions, so if you have any more please do not hesitate to ask. If I have missed anything out, please forgive me.Thank you.~AM


[aficaria]

Lucis in the Rain

I had decided to get myself back into writing. And in all honesty, I’m actually really trying. New styles here and there and maybe I might actually push myself to up my vocabulary game and also my word count.

Anyways, Happy 2018!

Yes, I know it’s 5 days late. But better late than never.  And comments and critics are always welcome as I’m trying my best to improve! If anything, any opinions would be taken in seriously in time for my newest fic. 

Title: Lucis in the Rain Pairing: Lightning Farron x Noctis Lucis Caelum Length: ?? I have no idea. AO3 ULR: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13276860

Without further ado;

Planning wasn't in Noctis' forte.

If anything, most of the planning work goes to Ignis. He is the beast of strategies, of accuracies and surprises. And if being Noctis' future personal adviser is anything to go by-- Ignis is just the best mother in any situation. The one ready to spoil Noctis when given the opportunity to do so.

At least until now.

Thing was, Ignis had blatantly rejected Noctis' plead to plan out the best night with a certain pinkette. It was New Years Eve; and for Astrals sake, Noctis just wants to put on a good impression on that lady. Lightning wasn't one to be half assed with. But Ignis had turned down those pitiful blue orbs down with a straight forward, “It’s your date, not mine.”

And with that Noctis had the most stressful week to plan out the best Date™. From having to choose the right places to go, to finding out what suits Lightning’s schedule and what is her preferences. And ultimately, Noctis had begun to swear to Ignis for not at least helping out because this is the first time the prince had done something remotely tiring.

And by the Gods if being half ass wasn't Noctis' only attribute.

So here they are, both young adults crowded under one flimsy umbrella, soaking through their garments. And to be more accurate of the situation, the umbrella wasn't even the prince's. It was luck on his part that the young soldier had brought one upon request of her younger sister. So nope, Noctis was not prepared at all.

The young prince's demeanor was calm but for the love of God; he was having a mental breakdown. Of all things he had to forget when planning this excuse of a date was the weather. The rain was building up and the wind was getting stronger. And there's still an hour left till the fireworks.

Noctis just wants to jump into the nearest trash bin.

"Are you tired?"

"No. This is nothing compared to patrol duty." The female soldier simply shrugged before raising a brow at the man beside her. "How about you? Are you tired?"

Noctis shook his head, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "Just worried for you. Isn't it cold? I mean with you wearing those short sleeves and everything."

Pale Aqua eyes continued to stare at the male beside her. The prince may be reticent but he's easy enough for long time friends to be read. Even after knowing him for maybe a year or so, the pinkette grew accustomed to the prince’s reserved self. If not for her training as a soldier, it was obvious from his demeanor that he was actually getting tired from standing under the rain. If not for his weight shifting, the slouching of his shoulders would’ve given it away.

Plus, he couldn't be any more obvious to his own personal suffering. Lightning knew of the prince's constant whinning from none other than Ignis Scientia-- okay, maybe also from passing by a certain training room of the King's shield once a week. Though, it was kind of adorable of him to always act macho for her impression of him. But for the sake of the prince’s ego, maybe the soldier should just keep her opinions to herself.

"I'm fine." She mumbles, sticking her wet back against Noctis. Adjusting herself to stand in front of the prince. Even though this was a ‘date’, Lightning still has a duty to uphold, especially as a member of the Kingsglaive. And of course, the courts wouldn't be all that happy to find their prince to be sick the next morning. So, if standing infront of him was anything to go by, at least he had more space to shield himself from the rain. Eyes averting, keeping her attention to looking for any suspicious behavior.

Achoo--

Silence passed by both adults.

"Okay, maybe I'm getting a little cold."

"Heh, why didn't you just say so?" Letting out a little chuckle, noting how that sneeze was extremely adorable on her part. It was even cuter for her to still play aloof after. Shifting the umbrella to rest on his right shoulder, he let the umbrella's handle to drop to his right shoulder before shrugging of his bomber jacket. "Here put this on. It might help, at least the rain won't get to your shoulders."

"Thanks."

Lightning grabbed the already wet jacket from his rough hands and proceed to put them on. Immediately Noctis could feel the droplets of rain starting to seep through his somewhat damp black T-shirt. The feeling was less inviting but-- if that would mean Lightning being somewhat more comfortable than him, then so be it.

"So uhm-- why Lightning?" Glossy blue eyes stared at the woman infront.

Raising a brow at the prince, "What do you mean, why Lightning?"

"I mean, why not some other names?" Oh Ifrit, someone shut him up right now. "i-It's not like your name isn't cool or anything, but... I mean, don't you have your rights to choose the names?"

Dead silence.

Oh Gods, he may have fucked it up now. Blue orbs staring anywhere but the woman infront of him, he just doesn't wanna look at her expression. Why in the right mind would someone ask why is their name, their name. But for the love of Shiva, he was trying. And the pinkette standing infront of him knew of that. In all honesty, Lightning couldn't help but laugh at her partner, knowing that the prince's awkwardness would be his undoing one day.

"Actually, Lightning was so much better than the other name I was going to be given." She smirked, playing along with the prince's awkward curiosity. "Plus, it wasn't I who was tryna drill that name to everyone's mind. Just that, everyone back at KG dubbed me 'as quick and witty as Lightning'. And it just kind of stuck through."

"And what might that other name would be?"

"Demon bitch?" She snorts, always eager to tease the prince. "I swear, Your highness. You just keep digging that grave."

"My apologies. I didn't know that asking a really obvious question was me digging my own grave." The prince pouts, casually ignoring his own social ineptitude. "But you gotta' admit, now that the elephants out of the room-- we can talk about other things."

"Other things?" Lighting was laughing at this point, "If watching you casually making a fool of yourself is what other things are-- then I'll gladly accept it and savor it like fine red wine," she emphatises, right hand lifting up to comically swirling a crystal glass between her fingers.

The prince snorts, blue eyes glistening under the streetlights. "Is my suffering something to be make fun of, Soldier?"

"You gotta admit, it's kinda cute when you do it." The pinkette smiles genuinely at him, before turning her attention to the watch resting on her right wrist. "--besides, I think you look much better now compared to before. I think you look better confident, your Highness."

"Thanks. I'll be sure to continue being a social potato if that would mean having a positive impression for you. " He grumbled somewhat bitterly. The prince sounds totally unamused that the fellow soldier had found his social suffering enjoying while the pinkette is all perfect. The ravenette tilts the umbrella to the other side, allowing his shoulder to relax. Joking as he may be right now, he hasn't let the way Lightning has called him to slide. "And please stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Calling me anything relating to my birthright." Damp hair swaying as the ravenette shook his head in disappointment. It wasn't like he didn't like being called by his royalty. If anything, it felt degrading for anyone he considered close to him. He wants everyone to see him as an equal; because he respect his friends for whom they are.

"Would it make you feel better if I call you by your name, then?" The soldier teases, grinning now. It wasn't like she had done it on purpose. Having a job in the citadel would have obligated her duty to call anyone with higher authority the tittle they are bestowed. Plus, lighthearted banter with the future king of Lucis doesn't mean that she should be fully relaxed around him. Lightning isn't the type whom doesn't put responsibilities first. But still, it was entertaining to be with the prince like this.

There were many passerby, totally oblivious to both adults now standing under the rain for an hour and a half now. The two of them watched as they pass with slight envy, noticing how they were smart enough to bring rain coats. Though, Noctis was more desiring to have the type of relationship with the woman infront of him that he can exhibit. Lightning however, was much more envious of a certain floating object in the hands of many. The lighted balloons seem to draw the attention of the pinkette; despite her own rational mind would find that a waste of money.

Then again, if ego wasn't a word.

"Noctis."

Pale aqua eyes blinked in surprise. "Hm?"

"I'd prefer if you would call me that..." The prince explains, a hint of redness shimmering on his cheeks, his words slowly dwindle off mid sentence.

"Hmm.." Her voice sounding as if she was considering, shrugging away from the prince before turning back towards him. "I'll think about it."

"You gotta be kiddin' me." Noctis huffs, puffing his cheeks out comically; a habit he would probably wouldn't let go. "Light, I swear to Astrals--"

"Noctis."

"W-what?" Blue orbs staring at pale aqua ones.

Noctis hadn't thought that the Kingsglaive woman would've actually given in so easily. With how the conversation was going on, he would've actually thought that the pinkette would go on about responsibilities and the hierarchy of the citadel-- or whatever Ignis would always go on about. But he knew his ears did not fail him, and neither did his eyes as he could see as those beautiful ones tried to avert their attention at anywhere but him.

"I-I'm not going to repeat." The pinkette stuttered, not wanting the silence to drag out any longer. Teeth worrying on her bottom lip, Lightning hadn't thought herself as a stammering type. And Noctis knows that she's trying her best to push away whatever she had said like as if it was nothing. How many times have the pinkette even flustered under his watch? Not that many times. And now that she is? Astrals, Noctis is going to abuse it as much as he can.

"Lightning...." His voice falling on a lower octave. Smirking almost obviously, Noctis tilts the umbrella to the side, before grabbing the girl's shoulder infront of him. Lightning couldn't help but shiver under his watchful gaze. "Please?"

"I--"

Just as she was about to finish, the weather turned for the worse. What was once a small shower turned into a thunder storm and Noctis couldn't help but curse under his breath for such bad luck on his part. Pulling Lightning closer to him, he held the umbrella like it was their life line. From afar the crowd started to disperse, running frantically towards shelter.

"I think it's better if we follow the crowd, your Highness." There she goes again, calling him not by his name. They were in an unpleasant situation, shoes soaking, hair clinging and clothes almost dripping; not forgetting how Lightning had to actually shout to get her point across. Noctis had wanted to argue right then and there but ultimately only letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Right, let's go."

The trek towards 'shelter' wasn't pleasant either. Water was collecting into puddles and the cluster of humans rushing towards a tiny entrance into the nearest subway station was...sticky. Noctis couldn't help but feel a tinge of regret, almost wondering why he had decided to bring his little date to watch the fireworks outside.

Heck, he was the prince. If only he had taken up his father's offer to sit beside him in the podium, just right infront of the firework's platform-- a sheltered seat right infront of the platform to be exact. But no, he wanted a romantic gesture to impress the pinkette.

Well, look how well it's going now.

The sliver of light in this whole situation was that Lightning was holding his hand the entire course towards shelter. Straying away from the crowd, both adults managed to find a corner with no one at all. Right beside an office building, they could hear a party going on somewhere else.

"I'm sorry." Noctis couldn't help but mutter under his breath. It was embarrassing to say the least that he had dragged Lightning out of patrol duty to entertain his childish ideas on going on a date. He didn't think it would rain cats and dogs, all he wanted was to spend time with the lady of his life. "I--"

Lights flared and the sound of fireworks echoed throughout the city. From a distance, the sound of people shouting ecstatically could be heard. The sky's colors turned from a dull grey to red and yellow, the smell of smoke was obvious. Though that did not stop the rain from getting worse. Water was pooling below their feet, but Noctis didn't care.

At that moment, the prince was solely focusing on the pinkette's expression. The color of the lights reflected in her pale aqua eyes. Despite the monotonous atmosphere surrounding them, her radiant smile was all Noctis could see. Little does he know, a grin was already etched on his face.

"Happy new year, Light."

"It's Claire." She says, eyes not straining away from the flaring of fireworks far away. Despite that, she couldn't help but smirk, knowing that she had let go something sentimental to the young prince.

"What?"

"Claire." She repeats, "My real name isn't Lightning. It's Claire."

There's a long pause on Noctis' behalf. Light could almost hear the glee form on the future king's face. Because he knew it, Lightning was just another side name she had chosen to remain mysterious. Noctis had almost taken the opportunity to tease the soldier beside him, but not wanting to ruin the moment, he simply nodded.

"Happy New Year, Claire." He fixes, his hand moving to grab hers tightly.

"Happy New Year to you too, Noctis."