#special prayers for christmas

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[cakelitter]

Pawsitively Yours Leon x Puppy - Hybrid Fem! Reader

Warnings: age gap, daddy kink, fingering, breeding kink, slight mention of virginity, spanking, degradation

Summary: Leon's new puppy treats him to a relaxing bath after a stressful mission.

Words: 5.1k

a/n: this one took me so long to do omg. rewrote some paragraphs like three times. but anyway, hope you enjoy!!!!

December has started, and with it came the heavy rain fall and bone chilling winds. Leon makes his way to the nearby convenience store, trying to be as quick as possible before the sky starts getting upset again. Bundled up in his coat and boots, he can see the white smoke like fog that forms after each breath.

His nose froze long ago, and he’s only been out of the house for five minutes. His once functional nose now turning a rosy shade of pink along with his cheeks. And so, he opts to breathe through his mouth a bit till he reaches the warmth of the store.

Milk, eggs, bread, milk, eggs, bread, milk, eggs-

His mind keeps repeating, in order to not forget anything. Writing a list would have saved him so much back and forth, but he’d rather do that than give in and actually write one down. It’s actually impressive how stubborn a man can be.

The glowing lights from the festive decoration on the streets are single handedly illuminating his way to his destination. Christmas is right around the corner, and people are filled with excitement and glee. For Leon on the other hand, Christmas is another cold winter day with the advantage of things being half off the next day.

Maybe it’s the traumatic events that he went through, or maybe it’s the fact that he barely has anyone around to celebrate this once in a year holiday with. But Christmas is not as special as it once was.

Opening the glass door, he steps into the warm space. Breathing in comfortably for once without the feeling of pins and needles tormenting him from the icy air.

It doesn’t take him long to grab the items he initially came in here for, while picking up a bottle of whiskey along the way to keep him company. It was calling his name from the wooden shelf it once stood on, and it was fifty percent off. So, he’s technically doing something good. He places his belongings on the register, while making small talk with the old cashier. The man in front of him says something about the weather, old man talk, and as time passes by he is actually starting to like these types of small conversations more and more.

He's definitely getting old.

The yell of an employee interrupts their conversation, alerting everyone around and addressing a customer that sprints out the store with unpaid items in hand. He thought the officer inside of him died a long time ago, but apparently not. He starts chasing the individual, down the street into an abandoned alley way. When suddenly the clanking sound of cans ricochet through the eerie alleyway, as some of the cans their holding slip from their grasp and onto the concrete floor.

He tries his best to not step on any of them. Which shouldn’t be too hard if this damn alley way wasn’t so fucking dark. He can’t see shit in front of him. It’s practically almost pitch black and the person he’s chasing is wearing a black jacket with the hood up. He’s chasing shadows at this point. Hopefully he is even chasing someone in the first place and isn’t having another one of his hallucinations. Running out the store like a crazy person.

All he does know however is that whoever he’s running after is fast, real fast. He’s almost out of breath kind of fast. The I hope they slip so this can be over kind of fast.

His prayers must’ve been answered cause instead of them slipping, they found themselves reaching a dead end. They’re movement ceases and they freeze in place looking at the stone wall blocking their way out.

He stands behind the hooded figure, their back turned to him.

“Turn around.” He orders, voice stern and intimidating. The thief turns around slowly, eyes facing the ground and full of guilt.

“Take that hood off.” Shaky hands comply, revealing their identity. They look up at him, and… are those dog ears?

Your eyes make contact with his, tears brimming in your eyes, reflecting the yellow light coming from the nearby and only street light, horrified of the thought of what is going to happen to you next. Your ears are droopy and wet from he can only assume the previous rain. Eye brows furrowed and your tail from what he can tell is now hiding between your legs, covered by your oversized jacket. The jacket is two to three sizes too big for you, can’t tell if that’s a fashion choice. He’s not up to date with today’s fashion trends. You’re a hybrid. A homeless one, judging by the state of your clothes and hair.

Regardless of the disheveled appearance, you’re a real cutie. Practically begging him silently to pretend like he didn’t catch you, and let you go on your merry way. His eyes drop down to see what you’re holding in your arms and finds three cans of tuna there. You poor thing, hungry and shaking from either the cold or from the possibility of going to jail… or the pound. He’s not sure where they deal with your kind.

He steps closer, and immediately senses the he picked the wrong choice of action as you start growling. Taking the hint, he backs off and nods slowly raising his hands up, making you stop.

The sound of running footsteps enter into the alleyway the two of you are standing in.

“You caught them?” the employee from earlier asks. Your eyes move over to them then back to him. Leon is a firm believer that stealing for hunger isn’t a crime. You were stealing tuna cans for fucks sake, the cheapest kind too. Not a lavish necklace worth millions.

“Yeah…” he can hear your brain cogs working, thinking about how you will get yourself out of this situation. And he could swear that he heard a whine leave your mouth. Hybrids are looked at as a minority, either locket away in cages or poked in labs. And that’s if they weren’t causing trouble. He doesn’t know what the law would do to you in your case… but it’s most definitely not humane. After a moment, he speaks again, not taking his eyes off of you.

“How much did those cans cost?”

That incident was four months ago, and ever since that day he decided to take you in. Leon was very adamant on the idea of not adopting any pets, not having the time to take care of them. But he figured that since your half human, it wouldn’t be too bad.

The first couple of weeks were hard. You’d lock yourself in your room and hide under the covers when he’s home. You’d growl if he tried touching you, and in general was having a hard time adapting to your new space. Leon however, remained as patient as possible. Giving you your time to feel comfortable, and always made it clear that he’s not a threat to you. Although he can’t really blame you for thinking he is, after all, having a man chase you down and corner you in an alleyway isn’t the best first impression to make.

He doesn’t know much about your background. Whether you were experimented on in a lab and somehow managed to escape, or simply tossed into the streets. But it’s clear that your days before meeting him weren’t the brightest. Matter a fact, he didn’t even know what your voice sounded like for the first 3 weeks, and just assumed that your breed didn’t have the capabilities to speak.

Nevertheless, you decided to break this cycle of keeping him away, when he once came home and sat on the couch. You were laying down on the floor on the further end of it. And to his surprise, decided to walk towards him, laying down and placing your head on his boot, instead of scurrying away into your room.

Leon has fought some of the most gut-wrenching bioweapons, designed to end a man’s life in a matter of seconds and managed to end them without breaking much of a sweat. Yet, this is his biggest achievement yet. You wanted to be next to him, instead of telling him to fuck off like usual. With your eyes of course, he still hasn’t unlocked the dialogue option with you at that time.

Ever since then, you’ve made small steps of opening up to him. And now, he’s the center of your universe, the main attraction, your favorite toy. Pawing at him for belly rubs, standing at the door, ready to greet him, as soon as you hear the jingle of the keys, and needing his attention 24/7 whenever he’s home.

You are now a completely different pup compared to the one he found wet and cold in a sketchy alleyway a few months back. You’re playful and energetic. A pain in the ass to take to the doctor for checkups, but nonetheless, a perfect companion for him. Leon likes to believe that you’re a gift sent to him, an early Christmas gift to light up his gloomy days. A thing he never knew he needed.

Ever since you stepped into his life, leaving paw prints behind, he started getting better without even knowing it. Instead of spending nights self-loathing and mourning the person he could’ve been, downing beer after beer. He spends that time now playing with you and watching movies together. Colorful ones though, your attention span isn’t the best…

He anticipated that you would have dog-like characteristics, and you do. Going crazy over squeaky toys, sniffing him for a good fifteen minutes after he comes back home, being obsessed with his shoes and hiding them under your bed, and tilting your head to the side when you’re confused.

Pure innocence, pure puppy innocence is what you are. Which is the reason that made him feel like a creep for his dick standing up whenever you’d sneak into his bed at night, cause you had a bad dream. Wearing skimpy shorts that did nothing to hide your ass, and a tight floral tank top without a bra. Your pouty lips, and soft-spoken voice. Your pretty eyes, and delicate skin.

“Leon…I had a bad dream; can I sleep with you?” Is all he would hear coming from the direction of his bedroom door. You don’t even bother waiting for him to answer, and instead climb into his bed, tangling your self around him. Head nuzzled into his chest, one of your arms and legs draped over his body. It doesn’t even take you longer that a minute to be fast asleep, leaving him an achy mess without even knowing it.

In addition to how you’d sit on his lap while watching a movie. He hasn’t taught you boundaries yet, knowing you, you’d get upset and give him those kicked puppy dog eyes for shooing you off his lap. Cause it makes his dick fucking hard.

It wouldn’t be such a big deal if you stayed still for once. He swears that you can’t stay in one position unless your asleep. As long as that cute little brain of yours is conscious, you’ll keep squirming on him lap, again with those frilly white skirts and revealing shorts, like he isn’t on the verge of losing it.

Worst part of it all, how your cunt always seems to be so wet all the time. Feeling it seep through your panties and onto his pants, making him want to die on the spot. The way your underwear will always have massive wet patches on them whenever he does the laundry. Is that even normal?

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Today he came back home after being away for three weeks. Opening the door, he doesn’t find your figure standing in front of him, with a flashy smile on your face, showing off your sharp canines. Twinkling so perfectly like you didn’t suck his bank account dry with those toys off yours. He raised his eyebrow at your absence and whistled hoping your pick it up in case you haven’t heard the sound of the front door opening. Which is pretty unlikely.

Dropping down his bag in the hallway, he walks over to the living room. The older man inspects the area, calling out for you, yet there is no sign of you. Kitchen, same thing. It’s not till he reaches the dining room till he spots out of the corner of his eyes the sight of your fluffy tail sticking out from under the table.

A grin creeps up on his face as he walks towards your hiding spot. He stops a few inches away from where you are and pretends like he’s still looking for you.

“Oh my god, I can’t find her!” He exaggerates, and watches over at how your tail starts wagging.

Cute.

“Where could she possibly be!!” it starts swishing left and right even harder, hitting the chair legs that are on either side of it.

Thump

Thump

Thump

“Is she under the dining table?”

…

“Or is she in my room?”

Thump

Thump

Thump

You’re adorable.

“Oh well I give up. Guess I’ll never find her.” He says throwing his arms defeatedly and turns around to exit the room.

“Boo!” Jumping out from under the table, you reveal yourself. Your arms extending and grabbing his leg. He chuckles and you look up at him with a beaming smile.

“Did I scare ya?”

“Real good, sweet thing.” He replies and crouches down to your level, rubbing behind your ear. Your favorite spot. He helps you get up and you waste no time beginning to sniff him near his shoulder. Face scrunching up at the smell and your eyes meet his again.

“Did you swim in the sewers again?” you ask rubbing your nose.

“I-… yeah”

It’s a long story okay…He needed to get to a certain point but the normal way was blocked so he had to-

Whatever.

Your head nods up and down slowly, knowing your nose is never wrong.

“I’ll go shower.”  He replies, and your eyes light up.

“Want me to help?” You ask excitedly, your tail wagging intensely. “I’ll help you take a bath, and I’ll let you use my rubber duckies too!”

“No honey I-”

You give him those eyes. The ‘you wouldn’t be mean and break my frail puppy heart would you?’ eyes. The eyes that make the strongest agent in the United States, weak. And to no one’s surprise, he gives in.

“Fine, but you only prep the bath and then leave, okay?”

“Don’t you want me to wash your hair like you wash mine?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“…I’ll only prep the bath and leave.” That took you longer to answer than he would like. “Promise? “He asks.

“…”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He nods, making sure that you understood what he was saying. And as soon as you get his approval, you sprint to the bathroom and the sound of the tub being filled follows pursuit.

He sighs, shaking his head with a smile. Walking to his bedroom, he grabs a freshly cleaned towel before making his way to the bathroom. Your figure is kneeling on the floor, hands grabbing the edge of the tub, watching as it fills with water and bubbles.

Turning around, you smile with a tail wag and turn off the faucet once the water has reached the amount, he usually puts for you.

“It’s ready!” He nods and you start to make your way to the door. As you do, he grabs the edge of his shirt and begins lifting it revealing the bare skin beneath. You stop in your tracks and he notices, your eyes looking at his defined muscles without even blinking.

“Out!”

“Okayyy” You whine, brows furrowing as you slowly close the door. Not before taking a final look of course.

He continues undressing and walks over to the tub, it has some bubbles and a couple of rubber ducks floating on top of it. Placing one foot in, the water is a little too hot, but not bad considering it being your first time doing something like that.

The water level rises as he soaks his entire body, feeling his muscles relax. Soothing his aching muscles and bones. A moment later, he pulls himself fully under the water, and then comes back out, pulling his hair off his face, giving him a slicked back hairstyle you always make fun of him for.

The smell of soap and the feeling of finally being safe after three hellish weeks grounds him as he closes his eyes. Once he reopens them, one of your rubber duckies is looking at him.

God, this is a bit weird.

He grabs it and inspects it, it’s mostly in good condition except for a few bite marks here and there. Wonder who those belong to. He examines the duck for a few more minutes, taking in its yellow body and orange beak. You go crazy over these things, he practically needs to drag you out of the tub each time because of them.

The silence around him is broken when he hears the sound of the door slightly opening which is followed by a cold gust of wind. He looks over and sees one of your eyes looking into the room.

“What did I tell you?” He says, but you don’t respond. Thinking you can trick him into thinking that you’re not there, just like how you still think he couldn’t see you back when you were hiding. And to think your breed is supposed to be one of the smartest.  He calls out your name, making you speak and pull the bathroom door open exposing yourself, kneeling next to it.

“I wanted to see if you were having fun…”

“I am now leave.” He says, tone trying to show seriousness. You don’t listen and in lieu, start crawling towards the tub.

“Are you listening to me?” He speaks again, but it falls to deaf ears. How can he blame you for not listening when he has never disciplined you. Spoiled brat. Ever since he picked you off the streets and claimed you as his own, he has not even once, raised his voice or gotten angry at you.

You crawl over and place your head on the edge of the tub. He’s honestly shocked at how shameless you’re being.

“That one’s name is Jerold.” Your voice says, pointing at the duck he forgot he was holding. A pathetic attempt of trying to change the topic. He looks at the duc- Jerold then back at you. Smiling so sweetly with a halo above your head like you just didn’t break his word.

He sighs, realizing there is no use in wasting his breath and places Jerold back in the water. Looking over back at you, he notices that you’re no longer watching his face, but at something else intensely. Curious, he follows your eyes and realizes at what caught your attention. The bubbles in the bath decided to migrate to either side of the tub, making his crotch completely exposed to your prying eyes.

You’re are not even blinking, a thing you do when you’re thinking too hard about something. The snap of his finger cuts your thread of thoughts, making you jump as you look back at his face, the place you should only be looking at from the get go.

“Privacy?”

Your ears go back in shame, it’s like you didn’t even realize that you were staring.

“Sorry… The water just looks nice.” He raises a brow at you. You are a pervert and a horrible liar.

“The water.” He repeats, showing you how ridiculous your lie was. You remain silent for a while, but start getting a bit fidgety. Looking around and getting up and sitting down again, the same way you act when he’s about to give you a treat.

“Can I get in the bath?” You say impatiently. You’ve always loved bath times, and pools, and lakes, and every single body of water that has ever existed. So, this is not unusual for you to ask, but he can’t help but feel like your intentions aren’t pure.

“No.”

“Why?”

…

Good question. Why not? He does think you’re the cutest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. He has fantasized about you before, something he doesn’t like admitting. He has checked you out a few times too… you were once again, wearing flimsy clothing, prancing around him, licking his neck and begging him to touch you and give you rubs. At the end of the day Leon is a man, who is guilty of thinking with his dick a time or two.

But he always resisted his urges. Locked them away in one of the rooms in his mind next to other gruesome core memories and throwing away the key. You were his baby, he’s supposed to protect, care, and provide for you, not fuck you.

By the time the voices in his head are fighting each other, you were quick to take off your clothes. And next thing he knows you’re in the tub with him. He goes to protest against what you’re doing, but you straddle him and place your head on his shoulder.

If that was your plan to shut him up… it worked. You feel warm and soft. The plush of your breast pressing up against his chest as he watches your chest rise and fall. Maybe this is wholesome, not like the two of you are naked and he could practically feel your cunt on his dick. No no no, that would be absurd.

He places his hand on your back, and moves it up and down soothingly. Why is he even rubbing your back? You disobeyed him, shouldn’t he be pissed? The two of you sit in silence for a while, before you remove your head off his shoulder. Arms still on either side of his neck, your eyes meet his. Dropping from his sky-blue eyes, over to his wet lips. Fuck.

You lean in. Fuck fuck fuck.

And you kiss him. Possibly the most delicate kiss he’s ever experienced. Full of pure affection. He doesn’t push you, he doesn’t pull back, he doesn’t lecture you about boundaries. But instead, he takes it. All of his attention on your mellow lips and light breath.

You pull away, locking eyes together. And he sees the blood rushing to your cheeks. Did he ever mention that you were cute? You anticipate him lecturing you, yelling at you, or even kicking you out, for what you did. But he doesn’t.

Remember that voice that was telling him that this is weird? Yeah, it can go fuck itself. He leans in and kisses you lips again. You let out a soft breath at his action, and he can hear the sound of your tail wagging once again even when it’s submerged in water.

Splash

Splash

Splash

Once more, your lips disconnect and you start shifting your hips above him. His dick has already started rising ever since your lips made contact with his.

“Can I wash your hair now?” he laughs.

“Sure, why not.”

And so, you do. Grabbing his shampoo bottle and squeezing some product on your hand before lathering in on his head. Your fingers work the product into his hair, before grabbing the nearby shower head and rinsing it off. The masculine aroma of his shampoo fills the small space as he decides he might as well give you a bath while he’s at it. He goes to grab your shampoo before your hand stops him.

“I want to use yours… wanna smell like you.” His heart could burst out of his chest at this moment. This shouldn’t have turned him on this much, but alas it did. Without complaints, he does what you want. Repeating the same process, you did on his hair earlier.

It doesn’t take long before the two of you walk out the tub. He pats you dry with his towel then himself. This went over rather smoothly, see wholesome just like he said. Everything is under contro- you’re rubbing your thighs together.

“Leon…” Your soft voice calls out to him, grabbing his attention. He hums in response and looks over at your eyes. Stepping closer, you place a soft lick over his collar bone before beginning to kiss the area. Your hand creeps up the side of his neck over to his jaw, coaxing him to accept your touch. And you almost managed to do that, till those voices in his head barged in once again.

He grabs your hand gingerly and whispers. “Baby, I don’t know if we should do this.”

You whine, mouth stopping its assault on his neck to speak. “Please, wanted you to breed me for so long.”

Once again, those voices get thrown out the window, as the words you just said make his brain short circuit. Cursing under his breath, he smashes his lips against yours harshly driving you up the bathroom wall.

You kiss him back fervently. Hands cupping his face as his chest closes the proximity between the two of you. Grabbing your jaw, his hands slither down and cup your mound, receiving yet another whine from your lips. Music to his ears.

His finger then starts making firm circles around your clit making your hips buck forward towards his touch craving more. Your hands scramble around his chest, a puppy like you has probably never experienced something like this before, huh.

His tongue enters your mouth and you accept it gladly. Two of his fingers rub between your folds back and forth. Collecting the slick that is practically dripping down your thigh, your hole is practically weeping. And he groans at the slippery feeling, before plunging two of his fingers into you with ease. Your back arches and you moan into his mouth, as his fingers start moving in and out of your wet heat.

“Who knew my sweet pup was such a slut.” He says pulling your ears closer to his mouth with the iron grip he as on your jaw.

You’re so sensitive, thighs begin to tremble at the way his fingers curl into you, and the real fun hasn’t even started. You can barely stand at this point. Realizing that, he grabs your thighs and pulls you over his shoulder and makes his way to his room. He plops you down on the bed, and you immediately roll over to your stomach, back arched, and ass up in the air like its instinct. He could get used to the sight of this, your face pressed down on his sheets and begging him to fuck you senseless.

“You know sweetheart, I don’t even think I should breed you after you’ve disobeyed me so much today.” He says, hands rubbing over your ass. And upon hearing his words your expression shifts, it feels like he just told you the most heartbreaking news you could ever receive in your whole life.

“Noo please. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah? I don’t believe that.”

“I promise, I won’t do it again Daddy.”

Shit.

You’re into that too.

...Oh, your nastier than he thought. Without even replying, he grabs his cock, slapping it a few times on your ass, precum forming strings connecting the two surfaces. Then bullies his cock into you making your feet kick out with a squeal. His balls are plush against your clit as he completely bottoms out inside of you.

You start drooling over the mattress, hands clutching the sheets beneath you for dear life. And without giving you much time to adjust, he starts moving. You feel so tight around him, its driving him crazy. The squelching sounds of your tight dripping pussy can be heard from a mile away. The fluid dripping from the hole that is connecting the two of you and down onto Leon’s gray sheets. Leaving wet dark gray spots on the surface. Picking up his pace, his hips slam into you harshly, pornographic moans can be heard from the two of you along with the clapping sound of your skin slamming against his.

He grabs your hips and leans in, having your back against his abdomen as he speaks into your ear.

“Here I was thinking you were innocent, not knowing what you were doing. Having your entire pussy on display for me, all wet and needy, waiting for me to fuck you full like the slut you are.”

“Wanted you.” is all you can manage to retort back, voice breaking from the impact each thrust has on you. He chuckles lowly and spanking your ass making you yelp and squirm beneath him before grabbing it. The skin now, hot and red beneath his touch.

“Should’ve spoken earlier sweetheart. I wouldn’t be this rough if I wasn’t so pent up.”

Your pussy is now sucking him in even further as he rabbits his dick into you. His hand moves over and under you, making its way to your clit. Pleasure is slowly but surely fogging up your brain, no thoughts other than Leon floating around in your head.

“Be a good girl and cum for me. And maybe then I’ll breed you.” And just like that, your thighs shudder beneath you as your pleasure blurs out your vision. The idea of being full of Leon’s pups making you see stars.

The tightness that you are gripping Leon in, in addition to your walls spasming around him, makes him tighten his grip on your hips leaving bruises there. His release ensuing yours. You bite your lip at the hot liquid being spurted out inside of you. Making you feel warm on the inside. Leon groans at the intensity of his release, one he forbid himself from for such a long time.

He thrusts a few more times, distributing his cum evenly inside you, and pushing it further up your cunt. He lets out a breath at the sight, one he can’t believe is seeing.

Plopping a delicate kiss on the middle of your back. He pulls out with a squelching sound from both your fluids combined, forcing a whimper out of the two of you at the discomfort. He walks over to the tissue box he keeps on his bedside table, and helps you clean up the mess. Throwing away the dirty napkin and laying down on the bed next to you, his arms open and inviting you.

You cuddle up against his chest, and he places a soft peck on top of your head.

“Thanks for the bath sweetheart.”

divider by: @/picopipi

[liriostigre]

Jeff Buckley's poem, “New Year's Eve Prayer,” performed at Sin-é, Manhattan, NYC, 1994.

You, my love, are allowed to forget about the Christmas you just spent stressed out in your parents' house.

You, my love, are allowed to shed the weight of all the years before, like bad disco clothes. Save them for a night of dancing stoned with your lover.

You, my love, are allowed to let yourself drown, every night, in bottomless, wild and naked symbolic dreams.

You, my love, in sleep can unlock your youth and your most terrifying magic; and dreaming is for the courageous.

You, my love, are allowed to grab my guitar and sing me idiot love songs if you've lost your ability to speak. Keep it down to two minutes.

You, my love, are allowed to rot and to die and to live again, more alive and incandescent than before.

You, my love, are allowed to beat the shit out of your television, choke its thoughts and corrupt its mind. Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill the motherfucker! Before the song of zombified pain and panic and malaise and it's narrow right-winged vision and it's cheap commercial gang rape becomes the white noise of the world, turn about is fair play.

You, my love, are allowed to forgive and love your television.

You, my love, are allowed to speak in kisses to those around you and those up in heaven.

You, my love, are allowed to show your babies how to dance full bodied, starry eyed, audacious, supernatural and glorified.

You, my love, are allowed to suck in every single endeavor.

You, my love, are allowed to be soaked like a lovers' blanket, in the New York summertime, with the wonder of your own special gift.

You, my love, are allowed to receive praise.

You, my love, are allowed to have time.

You, my love, are allowed to understand.

You, my love, are allowed to love.

Woman, disobey, when little men believe.

You, my love, are Rebellion.

[magnetothemagnificent]

I've seen goyim push back against us Jews rightfully telling them they can't learn Kabbalah by saying "b-but learning isn't the same as practicing!!"

Congratulations, you just showed your culturally Christian ass.

In Christianity, practice is only about belief and acts of faith, like praying and attending Church. While Bible study is important, it's not integral to being a Christian. Most Christians don't have a library full of medieval Christian literature.

In Judaism, learning material is *part* of practice. If you walk into the home of a practicing Jew, chances are they will have bookshelves of books, even if they're not Rabbis or educators. Learning Torah is part of practicing Judaism, just as learning Kabbalah is part of practicing Kabbalah. We collect books because books are part of our practice.

In Judaism, learning is a holy act. Before we start learning, we say a special prayer thanking G-d for gifting us His words. In some communities, learning Torah is forbidden on days of mourning like the Shiva period and Christmas Eve, because the holiness of Torah shouldn't interact with the sadness of the time. We also have times when learning Torah is especially meritorious, such as the night of certain holidays and before one's wedding. When we complete our study of a book of Jewish texts, we have a special celebration to commemorate it.

We have a holiday called Simchat Torah where we celebrate completing the reading of the entire Torah scroll all year, and celebrate re-rolling the scroll to the beginning, where we begin reading it from the start all over again. A Torah scroll, on that note, is given immense status. Many times Jews will risk their lives to save Torah scrolls- for example, after the recent earthquakes in Turkey and Syria, Jews risked entering an unstable historic synagogue to rescue the Torah scrolls inside.

And all Jewish texts are treated with care- if a book or text is damaged beyond repair, it can't be thrown out, it must be buried like a human body. On first glance, a mass-printed Tanakh and mass-printed Christian Bible may look similar. Except if a Tanakh is dropped accidentally, it is kissed, and if it's damaged beyond repair, it is buried with full respect. This is because learning is *integral* to Judaism. Studying our texts is integral to our practice. It's not enough to attend synagogue, you must make yourself familiar with the texts.

Learning Kabbalah is practicing Kabbalah, which is why we say that no, goyim shouldn't learn about Kabbalah. Is it not enough that we say it's wrong for you to listen to us? I think part of the reason goyim are so entitled to our texts is because deep down, they believe that we're hiding something in them, and they don't trust us. We're not hiding something, we just have our privacy and our boundaries and you are not entitled to everything.

[yoongsisbae]

Stories by Member

JJK

Not a Creature was Stirring You wake up Christmas Eve night not to find Santa, but to find a man cold and shivering on your front porch. Clothes tattered, cuts on his body, out in the snow. You find out he’s not as helpless as he appears. Kind of cute, kind of scary, very buff Jungkook Fantasy AU. Spring Day Still with You [Sequel to Not a Creature was Stirring] You ran away from the cold, Jungkook ran with you, warming each other’s hearts. But within the cycle of life, there is death, and as spring blooms, the blood still lays soaked in the dirt. You ran and they chased. Hybrid!Jungkook.

Banana Milk It’s Jungkook’s Birthday, will he get his birthday wish?

The Fantasy You and your boyfriend try out a new form of role play, but it just keeps going wrong…

I Didn’t Mean It, I Still Love You Yoongi made a mistake, will you forgive him? Or is it too late?

Ddak-ji SLAP Jungkook, Seokjin, and you decide to play a game…and then you fu-

Campfire Burning A steamy fic inspired by a certain vlive.

Seven Days a Week Every day, Jungkook shows you his devotion, deeper than the ocean. Seven different scenarios, seven days a week. idol!jungkook x noona!reader

Go Home, You're Drunk! - 75% “Who…are…you…” “Your worst nightmare, sweetheart.” “Really? Because you look like you belong in a boyband.” whacky and dark & for all the girlies who love an unhinged yandere character

The Snap - 70% The only surviving member of BTS, it takes Jungkook five years to find happiness again. And then life snapped back. What is Jungkook going to do now?

KTH

Christmas with a Vampire There once was a time when holidays were warm and special, Taehyung remembers. To you, even in his coldness, Taehyung is all you need for Christmas. Cyber-punk futuristic AU with a self-hating vampire Tae.

BTS Song Fic (Blue and Grey) Sad song. Sad story. Sad author. Happy reader?

V is for Villain 1 / 2 / 3 - 90% What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you. Superclumsysuperhero!RMverse AU.

PJM

Christmas Mass Every Sunday, like clockwork, as designed and ordained, you sit quietly. Pray. Christmas mass comes, tonight your congregation dresses beautifully, like ornaments placed in a row right in front of God. Your priest, stands at the head like an angel atop the tree, commanding and pious and hauntingly handsome. Red. You’re a good faithful girl. You were taught to be, punished to be. You pray for respite, for something more than the condemnation this cold and icy town bestows upon you. Sinners. The coldness permeates your bones, you’re always scared. Tainted. Terrified of sin, terrified by your thoughts for your priest. Sacrilegious. This Christmas prayers are answered by no God. Demon AU. Dark smut.

You Asked for Help, He Asked Your Name You ran away from your responsibilities, but they caught you and tried to lay claim to your body. If your life was never going to be yours anyways, you decided might as well give it away and make a deal. fairyprince!Jimin

KNJ

Your Friendly Neighborhood Superhero, RM Best friends 2 Lovers. Idiots 2 Lovers. Lovers 2 Enemies? This is a different kind of superhero story ;) Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all? Set in Super Clumsy Super Hero RM universe. Extended Scene: The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts...it goes there. V is for Villain 1 / 2 / 3 - 90% What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil, or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you.

I Appreciate Your Apology A Christmas party has you on thin ice with your favorite dom. Daddy Joon appreciates your apology, but does he accept it? daddydom!Joon smut, PWP, filth, aka Joon edging you until you see sleighbells.

Cold Feet You don’t want to get married anymore, what does Namjoon want? 

JHS

Day Dream The days are hotter, the nights are hotter too. You sleep, restless. Tired, you sleep more, you sleep and you dream and you meet the dream walker and things somehow become even steamier. Sandman!Hoseok Dream Analysis / Alternate Ending 

Disco Winter Ball You and your friend Hoseok are best friend buddies going on a date to the annual disco winter ball. But it’s not a date date, okay? You and Hoseok just love music and you love dancing and Hoseok loves watching you dance. Wait not love, not in that way! A friendly love. Just friends. Just two friends who drink a little too much eggnog. HOAL couple holiday special

I Thought You Were Mine? Drunk arguing leads to drunk fuc–

MYG

The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder Fearful, they buried them, stomped them into the dirt. Underneath their boot, scared men were unaware the seeds of hope had planted by their own volition. From the dirt and grime, grew flowers, blooms so tall, eclipsing their hatred. You were strong and unwilling to be cut down any more. Shapeshiftercat!yoongi.

Yoongi is a Rock That’s it. That’s the plot. Yoongi is a rock. Audio Ver. by the talented @voice-over-ff

I Didn’t Mean It, I Still Love You Yoongi made a mistake, will you forgive him? Or is it too late? 

Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all? Set in Super Clumsy Super Hero RM universe.

King of Corruption [Sequel to Christmas Mass] The organ player takes his time with you, holding you and caressing your body while you sleep, until you can’t discern your dreams from your reality. A king and a sleeping beauty, his name leaves your lips like a prayer, prostated at his feet in blind reverence…the perfect position for him to corrupt and defile you. Demon AU. Dark smut.

KSJ

The Flower Bridge You couldn’t, you didn’t want to, not anymore, the pain was too much, you wanted it to end, so you visited the bridge. Standing at the highest point, the wind stung, but your problems were bigger, your pain was stronger than the whipping air and your anguish deeper than the water below. Tethered in the center, connecting the place you came from and the place you were going, you found another type of bridge and he found you. Ghost!Seokjin.

Meet Cute, Time Loop A story where Seokjin loves you before you love him before he loves you.

Ddak-ji SLAP Jungkook, Seokjin, and you decide to play a game…and then you fu-

Seokjin’s Ho Ho Ho Your boyfriend surprises you with a Christmas dinner on the beach, things get a little steamy, candy canes get sucked, peppermint liquor might be involved, there is definitely some questionable Santa Costume attire, and lots of jolly lovin’! HOAL couple holiday special.

Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! Extended Scene: The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts...it goes there.

Gangnam Girlfriend: Korea’s #1 Celebrity Dating Show with your Host, International Super Star, Jin Welcome to Gangnam Girlfriend! Where Korea’s top eligible singles fight for a chance at love! You're supposed to be playing the dating game right? Not sneaking off in the middle of the night with the show’s host to watch the stars and talk about all your lost love connections, cuddling under a blanket. And even if the choice is clear, Kim Seokjin can't date you, the reason you joined is because you wanted a public relationship, and Jin could neverrr. Even though he wants to finally settle down! But Hybe wouldn't let him join as a contestant so he took the next best thing instead, our story's beloved host, yet now he's regretting his decision as he watches the girl he is starting to fall for fall for someone else, oh no! Meet the Cast / Epi1 - 85%

OT7

SERIES

Bon Voyage: Into the Sea [Fantasy AU] A storm capsized your boat and looks like you were the only survivor. Somehow you made it to shore, but where? Stranded, you suddenly find out you are not alone, and now you’re stuck in the middle of a centuries old conflict between 7 monsters. Member Imagines /Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 /  Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 - 5% / ?

Handshakes of a Lifetime [Soulmate AU] …the meeting room is getting closer and closer, basking you and those around you in warm light, and you think about all the internet comments people write about this kind of moment, ��she must have saved a country in her past life to experience this.” Playlist / Ch1 / Drabble - JJK / Ch2 / Ch3 / X-mas - JHS / Ch4 / X-mas - KSJ / Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 / Ch8 / Ch9 / Ch10 - 10% / ?

Caught! House of Cards [Yandere AU] You needed money. The pandemic offered little options. So you joined a website to make some quick and easy cash. Men paying to look at you, harmless fun, right? It was a decision you didn’t think too much about, you just wanted an income again. Little did you know how dangerous the members of House of Cards were. You weren’t prepared for the consequences of your actions. Watch out! Houses built with cards come tumbling down… Profiles / Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 / Xmas Drabble - KTH / Ch5 - 90% / ?

Run Run Run [Zombie Apocalypse AU Slow Burn] A zombie apocalypse breaks out and you’re stuck on a plane with none other than…BTS! Oh, you thought because you were an Army that would help you survive? Girl think again. Member Poll / Seoul Flow / Yangyang Living / Seoul Town Road / Hwarang Freestyle / Seoul Close / Samsung State of Mind - 5% / The Big Hit Break In! - TBA / ?

T H E T A K E O V E R [BTS Apocalypse / Dystopian AU Thriller] The recruits of Bangtan Academy were trained to be super soldiers, to be the strongest, fastest, most cunning fighters in the world. Now they are being put to the test! You were at the bottom of your class, but you noticed the cracks in the system first, what are you going to do? Run or try to save the world Prequel / Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 - 78% / ?

DRABBLES

BTS (as kisses) / BTS (as holidays) / BTS (as drinks)

BTS Cheering You Up While Studying Korean

MASTERLISTS

Naughty Girl Christmas BTS X-MAS Masterlist

Spring Fling Fantasy Stories that Bloom Masterlist

BTS Supers RM Verse Masterlist (coming soon…)

Original Masterlist

[boonsmoon]

Would you do a Mu Qing from TCGF fluff request Xie Lian (and by extension San Lang) attempt to play matchmaker between Mu Qing and his god/dess crush (cause Mu Qing refuses to admit liking them despite them being the person he’s closest to since meeting each other)?

I fell in love with this idea instantly A Christmas special for the lovelies Btw for creativity purposes, you can be the goddess of literally whatever

Request Masterlist Mu Qing x f!reader Genres:🎉🌸💞🧪

Kiss of Winter

To the untrained eye you would seem like a subordinate or nuisance to the cold-hearted god; however, this couldn't be further from the truth. You would considered yourself a close friend to Mu Qing, you have known each other for hundreds of years after all.

Though when asked, Mu Qing would refer to you as "a valuable acquaintance," and boy did it hurt to say this. Luckily, there was a very observant god who decided he had watched you two dance around each other long enough.

The holidays were approaching and Xie Lian thought this would be a great time to force persuade both of you to be in each other's company more often. So, with some hard thought planning and input from San Lang, the boys decided on a special celebration for the gods.

Now considering all these higher beings actually have standards, lots of works will have to be put into this. And who better to ask than someone that'll be excited to attend?

"I can't think of anyone more fitting for this job than you," Xie Lian praised, hoping to get you on the project. Everything has to be perfect if he's gonna get you and Mu Qing together.

You hesitated for a moment, "I've been getting many more prayers recently, though I suppose those can be put on hold..." There was a look of pondering on your face, weighing the pros and cons of what this could do to your status among deities and humans.

"Don't you have subordinates? If anything important happens they'll surely yap to you about it," you tensed at San Lang's words. Subordinates yes, deserving of disrespect no.

Unfortunately though, you must admit he was right. Your subordinates were always more alert than you, even when it came to your own temples. You sighed, "fine, I will help you prepare for this celebration."

After tireless days? Weeks? Of work, you all finally finished the super secret super awesome holiday party. Now you may be wondering would Mu Qing even come to the celebration? The answer is yes, but only if you invite him.

And let's be honest, most of the Heaven Official's don't like Xie Lian and San Lang very much, so making you the messenger was common sense from the beginning. So after running around and inviting everyone you saw, it finally came to the one and only.

"It is a holiday that comes each year, what makes this one special?" So far, so bad, he doesn't seem very keen on attending your greatest achievement yet.

"Becauseee we put effort into enjoying it this year. It'll be fun, I promise!" You pleaded with Mu Qing, hoping he'd say yes. "I worked on it the most anyways, so you don't have to worry about Xie Lian's 'bad taste.'"

He crossed his arms, contemplating if that was really a good enough reason to attend. "And when did I say you have good taste? It is likely just as bad considering you dare interact with him." OW OKAY THEN.

You folded your hands and begged, "if it's not I swear to never invite you again! Just please come this once..." This is what convinced him, the pain that in the future deities will get to enjoy your hard-work and he'll be left out. No one could ever appreciate your efforts like he can.

"Fine! I will agree this once..." That was a lie, he will make sure to agree in the future, even if it means forcing himself to attend a celebration that involved Xie Lian and San Lang.

The day of the celebration was fantastic, several deities appeared, many complimenting you on your efforts. You most oversaw everything that was happening, what you didn't see; however, was Xie Lian spying on you and Mu Qing while talking.

He took this as his chance to put the real plan into action. After getting a signal from San Lang that the mistletoe was hanging up a few feet from you two, Xie Lian basically sprinted into the both of you, pushing you under the plant.

Mu Qing turned around, visibly angry at Xie Lian, "would it hurt to watch where you move?!" This caused Xie Lian to put his hands up in defeat and shuffle away.

While rubbing your head to try and soothe the pain, you noticed something bright above you. Realizing it was mistletoe your face got darker. This caused Mu Qing to seem slightly concerned, questioning what was the problem. You only pointed up, and when he took notice his face also darkened.

"We can simply move and ignore this tradition, it's not that important anyways-" He was interrupted by you however, "rules are rules, Mu Qing, we can't ignore them. Plus, I kinda like this tradition."

He tried to get over the initial embarrassment and decided it would be easier to dive into the kiss. What would've been a fleeting moment to others felt like an eternity to you both.

Pulling away you could both tell by the look in each other's eyes that the feeling was mutual. And hidden somewhere else was a very proud and excited Xie Lian.

this was a very beefy fic

not that i'm complaining i liked it

anyways, happy holidays everyone! may all be well for the new year

[oinkinpigprince]

S CREAMS AND SETS YOU ON FIRE okay robbie is about to start YAPPING

okay so i found this funny video of micheal cusack from 10 years ago yapping about how he loves corn flakes. (it's .... on youtube okay. just search up 'i love cornflakes' and click the one with micheal cusack) UM THAT VIDEO MADE ME THINK..... LIKE....... PIM BEING ALL GOOEY AND LOVEY DOVEY WHILE HE'S DRUNK.

(/nf if you don't want to do that!!!! i understand completley:3)

I JUST WATCHED THE VID AND IM GIGGLIMG SO MUCH, AUSSIE ACCENTS ARE SO FUNNY

Now I’m rewatching smiling friends again in anticipation for the new season!!!!

Drunk Pim x reader

Pim strikes me as someone who doesn’t drink often, definitely drinks on special occasions! He just always gets embarrassed the next morning

You’ve never seen Pim drunk, and when you asked Pim why he just said he gets wild you didn’t by it so you tried to ask Charlie. when you tried to ask Charlie though, he just started laughing

So it wasnt until a Christmas party at Charlie’s did you understand what he meant by ‘wild’ and oh boy was it hilarious

You thought he was a ray of sunshine before, he wasn’t just a ray, he was a flaming ball of love to everything he saw

Pim kept calling you sweet pet names and you’d catch him just staring at you with the biggest sparkly eyes. When you asked him what he was doing he’d just hic out “you’re so beautiful a-and amazing!”

He started crying because he thought Charlie’s decorations were so pretty and he was so proud of him for getting into the spirit of Christmas

Have you seen the tiktok of the boy who was leading the prayer at thanksgiving and wouldn’t stop crying cause he was just so full of thankfulness and love. That was actually Pim

He made a toast and you had to drag him out cause he was so loving towards everyone and couldn’t stop the word vomit of admiration and joy

It was really sweet and you had to try not to bust out laughing at his sad little face that was so full of love and joy. After dinner and he finally relaxed he just literally clung to your shirt, like literally clung to it

He left to go use the bathroom and when he came back he forgot who you were and bro was SMITTENED. You’d think he met a real life god(ess) he was so in love again

Pim drunkenly asked Charlie to introduce you to him and when Charlie was obviously like “tf??” He began practically begged Charlie

So that’s why a snickering Charlie walked up to you and introduced you to your own boyfriend. Which was, hilarious and very confusing. You and Pim did have a very lovely ‘first meeting’.

“S-s-so do you have a b-b-boyfriend?” “You’re actually never going to believe this.” Let’s just say he was SHOCKED. You gave him a peck on the cheek and he just stared at you open mouth and eyes, you heard Charlie loosing his shit in the background.

You had to carry Pim home, and his face the next day when you told him everything was priceless. He was so flustered and embarrassed. This is why he doesn’t drink

[jflemings]

— dancing shadows

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: jessie’s made her move to the nwsl but she can’t move on from you

warnings: angst, implications of sex

a/n: there’s no part 2 bc i like a cliffhanger

Shadows of us are still dancin'

In every room and every hall

jessie stirs her coffee gently. her new kitchen is littered with half packed boxes and hope, a lavender and honey scented candle burns in the centre of the countertop, the flickering flame taunting her as if it knows all her secrets. she’s dressed in her new portland thorns training kit with her hair tied back into a neat pony tail and her boots sitting on top of her training bag.

she breathes in deeply and sips her coffee in the silence. she’s done her best to settle, to make this still somewhat empty house feel like home, but she knows that it takes more than her favourite blend of coffee, a candle and a routine to do that.

the truth was that she hadn’t been sleeping well since moving. at first she could point the finger at jet lag and timezone differences but that excuse only went so far. she’d spent her nights tossing and turning in an attempt to just let sleep overtake her before she’d wake up every so often and have to remind herself where she was. she’d get up, get a glass of cold water and take herself back to bed to repeat the cycle of broken sleep until her alarm woke her up in the morning.

nothing had changed until jessie swore she saw your shadow dancing down her hallway late one night.

it was silly, just her eyes playing tricks on her, but for a fleeting moment she could swear that you were right there with her. if she was anymore sleep deprived the midfielder probably would’ve heard your soft giggle echoing off the walls like a sweet melody demanding to be listened to.

the morning after she dug through a box and pulled out the candle you got her as a christmas present two years prior. it was an expensive one, definitely costing more than it’s worth, but you didn’t care. you just wanted jess to have something small, something nice that she could enjoy by herself. she decided to only burn it on special occasions or the night before an important game, like a good luck charm or an offering to the universe.

it now serves as an offering to you and your soul that has followed her across the pond. before, she would spend her nights breathlessly saying your name like a prayer and offering her body instead of a scented candle. nights when her cream coloured curtains would block out the world outside the sanctuary you had made for yourselves whilst tangled in bedsheets.

she finishes her coffee and rinses the porcelain mug, turning it upside down and placing it in the sink before grabbing her training bag and car keys, and blowing out the candle.

the smell of lavender and honey follows her out the door.

You thought that it would wash away

The bitter taste of my fury

And all of the messes you made

she knows that you had been almost furious with her when she left, your eyes betraying the too-wode smile that had been plastered on your face as she stood in front of the team and began to say her goodbyes. jessie understood why you were mad. you had found out at the same time as everyone else that she was leaving, something that she knew you would deem as an act of betrayal.

the two of you weren’t anything official but all the players and staff knew that you only had eyes for eachother. it was something special, like the fates themselves had brought the pair of you together. you both made your debut for chelsea during the same game and had ended up living just two streets apart, something that the two of you figured out after celebratory drinks with the team.

she had let the guilt eat her alive until you’d shown up at her door with more questions than jessie had answers. instead, she took you to bed and apologised with pleasure rather than the explanation that you deserved.

the next morning the canadian awoke to an empty bed and a bitter taste in her mouth.

You'll see my face in every place

But you can't catch me now

you were everywhere.

people couldn’t stop talking about you and how seamlessly you had adjusted to jessie’s departure, in more ways than one.

on the pitch you were bagging assists and executing flawless tackles, but off it you were the subject of many romantic rumours. players from both chelsea and your national team had been romantically linked to you, fan pages and media outlets alike claiming to see you getting too cozy with someone new every other month.

first it was guro, then it was mccabe, followed by alanna kennedy and other countless players that you were so obviously friends with. it infuriated jessie to no end. she had become a mere outsider getting insight into your life through word of mouth and lies.

“jess you can’t get caught up in that shit” christine huffs “it’s all worthless anyway”

“i can’t escape it” jessie defends quietly “she’s everywhere”

christine’s face softens, her light eyes conveying a mix of both worry and pity for her young teammate. she pats jessie on the shoulder comfortingly “she was always going to be”

Through wading grass, the months will pass

You'll feel it all around

I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere

But you can't catch me now

your lingering presence weighs heavily on jessie’s shoulders as she sits on the grass of the portland thorns training ground. the sun kisses her face similarly to how you used too: with warmth and steadiness. she throws her head back and picks at the blades of grass under her, not noticing her long time teammate and friend approaching.

sinc sits down quietly, bending her knees and leaning her elbows on them as she waits for jessie to either acknowledge her or begin to tell her what’s on her mind.

jessie keeps her eyes shut and leans back on her hands “i’m sleeping a lot better, if that’s what you were going to ask”

the older woman smiles “when did you start being able to read people with your eyes closed”

jessie pauses for a moment and opens her eyes, looking directly at christine’s face “i can’t” she says quietly “i just know you’ve been telling janine you’re worried”

sinc purses her lips silently, twirling two blades of grass between her fingers. the veteran’s presence is strong and solid, like an immovable force that can’t be ignored. she sighs “healing takes time jess. especially after a breakup”

“we didn’t break up. we weren’t together” jessie mumbles “not officially, anyway”

“it’s still going to hurt”

the young midfielder nods her head slowly “i can’t escape the feeling of her” she admits quietly, like a small child telling a secret. all of her attention is now focused on her feet in front of her rather than the teammate next to her, not daring to look sinc in the eyes.

“what do you mean?”

jessie hesitates for a moment as she gathers her words “…she’s not even in the country and i still feel like she’s around every corner. it’s like i can feel she’s still mad at me for leaving”

christine sighs and cocks her head “she’s not mad, jess”

“she was”

“yeah, because you didn’t tell her you were moving” sinc says pointedly, making jessie frown “but that was then. this is now.”

jess once again looks up to the sky with her eyes closed, sighing deeply “she won’t call me back”

the two canadians hear footsteps walking back out to the training pitch, popping their small bubble of vulnerability that they have created. the breeze carry’s the light chatter of the rest of their team and the two of them can’t help but smile when they hear janine’s all too familiar laugh get closer.

“she will one day”

Yeah, sometimes the fire you founded

Don't burn the way you'd expect

the way your relationship had gone wasn’t what jessie had expected or intended when the two of you first started seeing eachother.

she supposes that it’s partly her fault. you two were never explicitly together, and you hadn’t had a conversation about not seeing other people, but jessie just couldn’t find the right time. she was constantly so caught up in everything that you were that she wasn’t even focused on the fact that you weren’t really hers.

the more time she spends basking in the new life she’s forging for herself the more she regrets not making it the right time.

because you weren’t together, you hadn’t broken up. the pair of you hadn’t sat down and said ‘this is the end’, she simply just up and left without much warning.

now, she sits in her bedroom that feels more like hers than it did before, clutching one of your worn oversized band t-shirts that she hadn’t realised she’d packed. she runs her fingers over the soft material thinking about the night she’d acquired it.

the tv in your bedroom acts as background noise as jessie lays in your lap, her eyes opening and closing slowly as she attempts to fight off sleep’s warm embrace.

you card your fingers through her hair, wrapping one of her loose curls around your finger “just stay the night, i don’t want you driving home if you’re tired”

“m’ not tired” she mumbles

you half chuckle softly “you’re trying not to fall asleep in my lap jess. you’re tired”

she turns over so that her face is now tucked into your stomach, subconsciously burying herself further into you as she does so. she lazily smiles against your abdomen and wraps a hand around your lower back, inhaling your scent.

“i’ll stay”

“you’ve got no choice” you say quietly before tapping her thigh twice “c’mon let me get up”

jessie groans and holds you tighter “no”

you roll your eyes and gently begin to get up so that she’s forced to let you go. she does so reluctantly, letting you place her back down onto the plush mattress below. she can hear you opening and closing drawers but still makes no effort to move, obviously still comfortable where she is.

the bed dips as you place your knee on it and lean over her, brushing stray hairs out of her face before kissing her forehead lightly “let’s get you out of these clothes”

the canadian rolls over to look at you leaning over her. her honey brown eyes are droopy and barely open but you know that she’s not going to like waking up in the morning in the same clothes she was wearing the day before. pulling her up gently, you place a t-shirt down next to her and grab the hem of the one she’s got on.

“you eager to get me in your bed, l/n?”

“you’re already in my bed fleming” you say smiling as she puts her arms up

“y’know what i mean”

in one swift motion her shirt comes off and you place your finger tips under her sports bra ready to take that off too. she does so herself, her arms flexing as she pulls the material off and throws it somewhere across your room before putting her arms back up.

the oversized band tee falls over her body nicely and you quickly move the covers down to take off her jeans. your fingers make quick work of undoing her button and zipper before she lifts her hips up to help you shimmy off the denim.

“now who’s eager?” you say teasingly

she smiles at you and flops back down once you’ve discarded her jeans, snuggling her face into your pillow and inhaling “still you”

jessie balls the fabric up in her hands and brings it to her nose, breathing in the fading scent of you that has miraculously lasted the trip. a stray tear falls from her eye at the memory of the two of you, the reality of what waiting for the right moment resulted in setting in heavily.

Yeah, you thought that this was the end

she’s sitting in janine’s living room when the instagram post shows up on her feed.

the announcement stares jessie in the face, a haunted look in her eye as she traces your features. she can’t tell if she’s about to get up and run straight out of janine’s house or call niamh and unleash a string of confused curses at her best friend.

this was the last thing she had expected to see, and it was throwing her for a loop.

jessie throws her phone carelessly next to her onto the couch, not daring to look her teammate in the eye as she curiously picks up the device.

a pregnant silence overtakes the room and janine’s eyes are wide with both concern and confusion when she looks back to jessie.

y/n l/n joins angel city fc

[shadesoflsk]

WILL YOU BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS?

pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x gn!reader

summary: It's going to be Leon's first Christmas without you. He promised you he would get over your death. But how is he planning to do it if the ghost of you keeps haunting him?

warnings: Character’s death, (reader) angst, hurt/no comfort, self-destructing behaviour, alcohol, mentions of religion, Leon speaks with reader.

author's note: I took the liberty to switch the order of my Christmas' special fics, I decided to post this one first since I liked it a lot. I would even say it’s my favorite one so far. Grief is such an interesting topic to write about, so I hope I did a great job! The dialogue part was lowkey (highkey) inspired by one scene from the Crown, season 6. The one where Carlos talked with Diana’s spirit. 

It’s 11:45 pm or so Leon believes. Time seems to slow down when night engulfs his apartment, and he is let alone with his own demons. He would be in pitch darkness if it wasn’t from the fact that his neighbor had decided to turn on the Christmas tree lights that reached through Leon’s windows. Faint carols could be heard, and it was a dreadful reminder of what date it was. 

He is trying, he really is. He drowns in his job that is slowly but surely killing him. Mission after mission, he keeps attempting to mess up — with no avail — since life is cruel enough to keep him alive, to continue watching his sins materialize in sorrow and depressive states. 

During the latter, he would often forget or purposely avoid taking care of himself. When was the last time he ate a full meal? He doesn’t nor wants to remember. His apartment was starting to reek of alcohol and rotten food that Claire has so gratefully left. She would often try striking up some conversation, which was welcomed with an awkward but expected silence. He was never the talkative one. On numerous occasions, he was reprimanded by you for this same topic. So, in the past, he decided to stick with a one-liner — that sometimes brought him unnecessary attention — the dinner one. Your laugh would fill his ears as he told you about the multiple times where people thought he was flirting with them. If you were here, could he make you laugh like that again? Or would you be disgusted by the man he has become these last weeks?

Besides his own memory serving as the place where your face and mannerisms would replay all over again, where are you now? He once heard that a soul is destined to be reborn into a new life. Life is cyclical, the sun rises and sets, the day and night come, but they never meet. He wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a lilly now. The pureness in your heart resembled one of those delicate flowers that your eyes seemed to follow each time you passed through a flower shop. Or maybe you’re someone’s baby being born. Bringing happiness to a family that prayed all night long for a miracle to happen. 

His mind wandered through the blurry moments when he was young. Prayers and cries surrounding a well illuminated place where many statues were presented. He used to fear one specifically, but the gentle touch of his mom would pull him closer to it. In his memory, he looked up to see the person who gave him life, yet he was met with a diffuse image of her. He has long forgotten the looks of his mother. 

In those moments, he often wondered what heaven felt like. He grasps on the last string of memories he had with his parents. How his mother would pull him to her lap and read to him. “Our God loves us so much that he has granted us a place to go when the time is right,” she would say, the term of death was so foreign to his little self but once again he remembers those prayers and promises. Is heaven the clear sky and peaceful home the Bible describes? Or is it a nonexistent place that Christians invented to cope with the fact that a loved one is no longer with them? He hopes it’s the first one since he wants to indulge in that little wish of him — that at least in the afterlife — you found peace. 

How is heaven? He wanted to ask you. Conversations with you used to flow so easily, so right. So, when the time comes he expects to hear every little rambling about your early trip to this called “everlasting paradise”. Is it raining right now? You loved rainy days, since it meant that both of you could cuddle while watching a movie. Or is it snowing since it’s Christmas?  He could almost hear you, your voice echoing in the deepest places of his mind telling him to stop trying to open the gifts. You were supposed to be next to him right now, waiting for Christmas to come.

He is in denial, two weeks ago he had you safely tucked in his arms, already planning what to do on Christmas. He still had your gift somewhere, hidden from your prying eyes even though you kept scolding him for that. Both of you were soulmates, two sides of the same coin. 

Now, he only had the ghost of you haunting him. Mocking him for not being able to protect you. He was hyper aware of every little detail his apartment provided. From the way he hasn’t moved your used mug on the dishwasher, because he feels that it was the last thing your lips touched. A bittersweet memory of your existence in this cruel world, to your book that you didn’t finish. You kept telling him that you were dying to know the ending but you couldn’t finish it before it was too late. If he reads it and prays to God, would he be generous enough to tell you the ending? 

He wouldn’t.

Every night he prayed to God, begged him to switch places with you even though it was an unrealistic thing to ask. But that’s what he wants right now. “It should’ve been me.” But that wish never becomes a reality. He wakes up, night after night, being him and being alone. God doesn’t hear him, he believes that this made up character just blatantly hates him. The forgiving, the loving and almighty God as his followers describe him, just doesn’t match up with his own criteria. A loving God wouldn’t have taken away his only reason to live.

The content in his Jack Daniel’s now does little to numb the pain he was feeling. With a sigh, he drank a bit more, straight from the bottle as the burning sensation traveled from his tongue to his throat. If he drinks enough until he passes out, he could imagine you. Moving across the kitchen with agile steps as you cook his favorite food.

Those moments were the ones he thinks he should've embraced more. Your quirks and habits. How you usually left traces of yourself in his apartment. How you always missed a spot when cleaning the counter and how you always kissed his forehead when placing the plate down on the table. 

Now, it's a bitter reminder of his own loneliness. His eyebrows twitched as the Christmas carols seemed to get louder. The clock reads 11:50 pm, ten minutes to Christmas. Even with the thick snow, the chants of kids being too stubborn to fall asleep were loud enough to fill Leon's ears. He hates living in this neighborhood filled with happy families.

You had a wide and warm smile when you showed Leon this same apartment he's currently rotting in. “It will be perfect once we have a family,” he remembers word by word what you said and he also remembers how you stumbled on your words once you saw the quizzical look he gave you. “I mean we could just have a dog or a cat if you want that. After all, family is where you are.”

Always the damn perfect partner. Always the stupid understanding other half. Why the hell did you even appear in his life if you were gonna die? Everyone else mourned your death but now they are moving on, yet Leon is staying in a never ending loop. Was it your plan? Are you fucking happy in heaven?

For once, he feels all the anger he’s been bottling up. His fists clenched as his breaths grew heavier. He throws the bottle against the wall. The contents spilling all over the floor as the bottle shattered in multiple pieces. He stared at the mess he’s done. His shaking hands grabbed handfuls of his own hair as he tried his best to compose himself. His mind repeating that you would be disappointed over and over again. 

Icy blue eyes started to get clouded by tears he refused to let go. The palm of his hand almost bled by his own nails digging into the thin skin. The regrets and what ifs were the perfect combination for Leon’s wish of dying albeit the fact of his own self deprecating being who believed he deserved to live this hell of a life alone. 

As he managed to keep his tears at bay for now, his eyes lingered on your designated seat at the table. You would always sit at his right, next to him, sometimes holding his hand, forcing him to eat his food with his left one. Now, his hand is cold without your touch. Which reminds him of your body and the last time he held you. Your heart no longer beat and your body was a freezing cruel realization of your death. 

“I was never good with emotions…” Leon’s voice came out as a groan. He had finally spoken after God knows how long. His own throat was constricted by the lump that was forming. He was denying himself the right to be raw, to be human. “You were the one who was better at everything… not me.” Leon swallows his own saliva, an attempt to stop the imminent lump. 

“I guess I was.” A melodic voice which was no more than a whisper filled Leon’s intoxicated ears. He looks at the empty seat next to him and sees nothing. It may be his own mind playing dirty tricks on him. Everything was blurred and dizzy from all the booze he had drunk. But nonetheless, he wouldn’t miss this opportunity, even if you were a creation of his own messed up mind. 

“I’ll take every little moment with me.” The voice was painfully comforting, a soothing lullaby to Leon’s broken beyond repair heart, a gentle breeze that surrounded his body. “The hugs, the kisses, our little trips to the beach and even the fights when none of us could go to bed without saying sorry.” 

A laugh as soft as a draft lingered in the air. The reality behind those words made Leon feel like he was going crazy. He blames the alcohol and the lack of social interactions for this moment. But your bubbly personality was unmistakable. That sweet and tooth- roothing laugh was — at least to Leon — proof that maybe, just maybe, God allowed him to grasp on you one last time.

Or maybe God allowed you to pay him a visit. Neither of you were religious people, but you were closer to heaven that he’ll ever be. So, maybe that pure and wholesome smile blinded God, and you escaped, true to your rebellious nature. Your death turned him into a sappy man. He has always loved you, but the tragic destiny you met made him see you in an even better light. 

“You know I loved you so much…” The voice turned sour and sad, so out of character for you. Well… if it’s you. Even in your last days, you tried to be that thoughtful partner, pushing away every worry out of his mind even though you were slowly withering away. The words slightly trembled, albeit the raw honesty that was being said. Silence set as if the owner of the voice was attempting not to cry. 

“So deeply…” The hushed voice seemed to get even quieter as the course of its words dug deeper in Leon’s heart making it bleed harder than ever. His hand itches to reach where he thinks you are, as if you could materialize from thin air and give him one last hug. One last farewell.

“Please, stop blaming yourself for this. This wasn’t your fault.” Yes, it was. Leon wanted to tell you that. You planted seeds of hope in his heart even when he felt the world was too corrupted to be home for someone as splendid as you. The sense of your living left him chasing footsteps and shadows in order to meet you again.

And as a moth to a flame, he followed you. The chemicals in his brain working overtime to hear the gentle ring of your voice as long as you keep talking. It doesn’t matter if this behavior could put him at a psych after. Talking with ghosts? That can’t happen, yet his love for you seems to break the rules between life and the realms of the afterlife.

“You weren’t supposed to go so soon…” Leon’s voice fills the dim room, engaging in conversation, the tears that he was previously fighting off were at the verge of falling from his eyes. But as a stubborn man, he wouldn’t show weakness and vulnerability, even in a moment like this. “I know nothing good lasts long in my life but —” a choke left his lips as the lump is now growing impossible to hold back. “What kind of twisted sin am I paying off? I can’t live a life without you, I simply can’t.”

“I wasn’t done with you, I wasn’t done with our life. I wanted to adopt that dog we saw at the shelter. Do you remember? I wanted to take you to Italy because you once told me you wanted to try a real pizza.” A shaky breath cuts off Leon’s speech before he continues, his slurred words stumbling one another as if he knew he was running out of time. “I wanted to grow old with you, I wanted to be the first person to notice the gray hair appearing in you. The first wrinkles in your face, which I’m sure would have looked amazing in you darling, you were always perfect. I wanted to help you stand up when your legs couldn’t carry the weight of your body. I wanted —”

“Leon.”

“I wanted to at least spend one last Christmas with you.”

He finishes off with one last wish. One last desire he had hid in his mind for a while now. He knew everything had ended, but right now, he wanted to hear you one last time. He wanted to hear an "I love you" from you.

And there it was… the last thing he wanted to hear. Nothing. 

As soon as the deadly silence filled the room again, uncontrollable tears streamed down his face. Leon bent forward, his forehead hitting against the hard material of the table, letting out all of his repressed emotions. In the midst of his despair and hatred, he cried not only for you and the fact that he failed to protect you. Each drop carried the weight of every life that was lost under his watch, each one of those bright eyed agents who were looking forward to working with him, and only found death in their paths.

What has he done wrong to deserve this terrible but inevitable outcome? He’s beyond tired, beyond hopeless. In his rage, he could only blame the world. 

God, why have you forsaken me? 

He stays there for a while, drowning in his own tears. As reality once again sets in. Deep down, he knew this would be the last time. The universe granted him (or cursed him) by allowing him to hear you one last time. Hear the tender tone of your voice calling his name like you used to do. And maybe he should take that with him just like you did. 

Everyone dies, so will he. There will be a time when God takes pity on him and allows him to meet you once again. Once the time comes and he's sent to the place where you are, he will tell you about the book’s ending. He will tell you about every mission he will get in the still unknown future. He will tell how much he missed you and how much he loved your presence, even if it was just the blink of an eye. He doesn’t know what else he will tell you, but he’s going to make sure to have a list before parting from this world — in a long, far future.

He had enjoyed meeting and being with you. And if somehow God gives him another chance, he would choose you over and over again.

The sweet carols have grown faint and not even the innocent chants of those children filled Leon’s empty and dark living room. It’s already christmas.

[infiniteimaginings]

i absolutely LOVED your freddie benson fic and i was wondering if you could write some sort of fluff for spencer? 🙏🏾🙏🏾

Why I Don't Give Up (Spencer Shay x GN!Reader)

Summary: You visit your boyfriend while he's working on one of his sculptures, and he tells you why he keeps going even if a lot of people don't believe in him. Pronouns: You/Yours Warnings: None Word Count: 1.8k A/N: I'm glad you enjoyed it! Here's some Spencer love for you!

It was a typical Wednesday afternoon in Seattle where people would just try to get on with their days. Some were just waking up in their apartments, wondering what they would even do, others were at school or work.

You were currently walking through the lobby of an apartment complex, beelining to the stairs. Your hand was covering the side of your face as you walked, praying that the doorman wouldn’t see you. Your prayers were not answered because you heard the man clear his throat loudly to grab your attention, you could have ignored it if it weren’t for his blazing stare into the back of your head that urged your body to react with a flinch.

You slowly turned with a plastered smile on your face, hands behind your back as you walked to his desk, “Good Afternoon, Lewbert.” You greeted him, your voice slightly strained.

The man looked at your boredly, cheek twitching as he idly tried not to scratch it. You tried your best not to stare, averting your gaze to anywhere else, feet kicking at the ground. 

Lewbert sniffled a bit before he turned around and picked up two packages, roughly placing them on the counter, “Since you’re already going up there, go ahead and take these before I keep them for myself.” He grumbled, leaning back in his chair to place his feet on his desk. 

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and took the packages, looking down to who each was addressed to before making your way up the stairs. You didn’t try to say goodbye to the doorman as there was no point, he would act like he didn’t hear you anyways. 

You went up the stairs and before knocking on the door you were originally going to, you turned to the one across the hall. You placed the top package down gently, knocking a bit to alert the Benson residence that their package was in front of their door. 

You turned back to your original destination and decidedly just opened the door. Most people would care if you just walked into their house without knocking, but the man who was sat on his couch looked up and his eyes lit up like a christmas tree when you appeared. 

You breathed out a chuckle at his expression and closed the door, still holding the package, “Delivery for Spencer Shay?” You read out from the package playfully. The brown haired man stood up and raised his hand, “Wait that’s me!” He laughed, standing to walk over to you. 

Spencer stood in front of you, cupping your face to pull you in, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Thank you.” He mumbled to you, taking the package from you to place it on the coffee table. You hummed and walked with him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he opened up the box.

It wasn’t anything special, just a few supplies for a project. You weren’t exactly sure what his project was, he didn’t give you many details, but you knew you would enjoy it just as much as he did making it.

Spencer turned around, hugging you tightly before telling you to take a seat so he could finish making the lunch he planned out for you guys. You nodded and sat on the couch, almost sinking in from how soft it was to your back.

The coffee table had drinks on it, some art supplies, and a plethora of opened letters. You picked them up and began going through them, it wouldn’t be the first time, Spencer never minded. Besides, you sometimes had your mail delivered to his apartment as you were there half the time.

None of these letters belonged to you though, they were all addressed to Spencer from several galleries, art shows, etc. You began feeling bubbles of excitement in your chest as you began reading, your eyes scanning the papers for good news but instead you were met with…

‘The artist shows enthusiasm but their execution falls short of gallery standard. The subject matter is cliché, struggles to communicate, and fails to provoke meaningful engagement.’

‘The piece is utterly amateurish, devoid of any sort of artistic merit. It’s embarrassing that this was submitted.’

‘There is a lack of understanding of the basic principles of composition.’

‘There’s plenty of room for improvement. They could refine their techniques to convey the vision better.’

‘The artist has used materials for an interesting dimension, enhancing points that viewers may not have initially drawn focus to. Experimenting with different materials was compelling, but it didn’t encourage the viewer to look deeper. It could be communicated better.’

‘Everything clashes, though the artist was bold for that.’

‘The execution lacks everything needed in art, there is no focus. There is complete inconsistency, there is nothing that brings my attention to the piece. It is completely looked over, which is not what galleries look for.’

Your frown deepened as you read from letter to letter, these were harsh criticisms. You weren’t exactly an artist, so you didn’t know if this was typical engagement from galleries, but either way it felt a bit much.

You were so invested into the letters, you didn’t notice Spencer had walked up to you, two plates in his hands. He noticed you were reading the letters but he didn’t react much, he’s read over those letters over a hundred times, nothing in them was new to him. He simply placed the food on the table and sat next to you, you didn’t react to the shifting weight on the couch which was partially concerning to him.

The hazel eyed man took his thumb and smoothed out the creases made between your brows from how you had them furrowed. You jumped a bit at the sudden contact and looked over to him, “Hey.” You mumbled to him, placing the mail back on the table.

“Hey.” He responded, looking at you with a slightly weak smile.

There was silence between the two of you, neither of you knowing what to say at that moment. Due to the silence, Spencer cleared his throat and grabbed the plates of typically unnatural food combinations that were still somehow the most delicious delicacies you’ve ever had. You thanked him and ate quietly, still not speaking.

Spencer didn’t immediately start eating because he was staring right at the letter on the table. He ultimately sighed and put his plate down, “I know they’re pretty harsh.” He laughed out and you hummed in agreement, no smile on your face.

“They are.” 

He nodded at your comment, scrunching his nose, rubbing his hands on his knees. “I’m used to them, trust me there are piles and piles of them in my room.” He explained to you, looking at you with the hope that you would give him a grin, you didn’t. His smile died down a bit due to your lack of reaction and he chewed the inside of his cheek.

You put your plate down and frowned at him, “You’re used to it?” 

“Yeah, the life of an artist. You have to get used to criticism.” He explained, shrugging and knowing you weren’t used to anyone receiving so much of it at once.

You blew air through your cheeks, “If you’re getting so many of these letters, then why do you….” You trailed off, putting your face in your hands, upset at yourself for even thinking the way that you were.

Your boyfriend gently placed his hand on your back, rubbing small circles on it. “Why do I keep going?” He finished your question for you, it was a question that everyone has asked him, he was also used to that portion of being an artist.

You didn’t look up but he knew that was what you would’ve asked.

Spencer gently pulled at your hands, causing them to be removed from your face, and he began rubbing your knuckles with his thumbs. You were finally making eye contact with him and you could see how his eyes sparkled when you met eyes with him. He pulled you into a gentle hug, your ear leveled with his chest to hear his rhythmic heartbeat.

“I keep going because no matter how many people put me down, you’re always there to put me back up.” He spoke quietly, rubbing at your back. “I could receive thousands of these a day and the only people's criticisms that would matter to me are yours and Carlys.” He told you, kissing the crown of your head so gently, as if you would break if he pressed any harder. “No one else matters to me, because as long as I have you guys, I can keep going without giving up.” 

Once he leaned back on the couch, just for a more comfortable position, you finally looked up at him, your chin resting on his chest so you could look at his face. His ears were slightly red, but other than that he wasn’t showing any signs of sadness, disappointment, etc. When you looked at him his grin just widened, his eyes filled with light, and you could feel his heart begin to race.

He took a deep breath, “And I know that when a gallery accepts my work, you guys are the only reactions I’m going to care about.” He explained to you, his voice soft as he took one of his hands to trace your features.

You didn’t know what to say, because Spencer always said the most beautiful things that just took your breath away. You placed your hand over his and moved forward, gently placing your lips on his. He kissed you back, holding you delicately as if you were his greatest gift. 

Once you pulled away, your noses grazed each other, “You’re already the greatest artist I know.” You mumbled to him, eyes barely open as you laid on him.

He didn’t respond, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, holding you tightly, never wanting to let you go.

Once the two of you finished your moment, you pulled back and continued eating, talking about anything and everything. You brought up the topic of his new project that he didn’t tell you about and he nodded, food filling his mouth.

After he finished, he stood and wiped his hands on his pants, rushing to the kitchen where he pulled a sculpture on a rolling platform to the living room. 

You finished your bite of food and rushed to stand in front of the tarp covered project. Your hands clasped in front of you as you waited for it to be exposed. 

Spencer warned you that it wasn’t finished yet, to which you understood. He pulled the tarp off and at the bottom was the title of the work, ‘An Artists Biggest Critic’. The sculpture was a mold of Spencer himself, covered in some of the letters he received from galleries, making it show that his biggest critic is himself.

It was beautiful, you knew it would be even more beautiful when it was complete, and all you could do was stare in awe. Spencer was really going to make a name for himself, and you couldn’t wait for the day to come.

[fairuzfan]

Today Good Friday and for Amy family that mean go to church do what called Station Of The Cross and go see pictures all things Jesus did and stop pray every time, and after all that some Amy family friends meet together say extra prayers for Palestine, got special help write down so remember "For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world" and other parts of prayer but that part say over and over

That special prayer called "Divine Mercy Chaplet" and priest Amy know said that prayer to ask God protect have mercy for people and that what ask for Palestine in prayers. Also saying that prayer powerful to heal every heart make even most evil person better and not sure that true for real but just in case Amy and friends can pray it anyway hope that make everybody in charge US at least change mind stop hurting Palestine.

Think that really sad that place Jesus come back after dead supposed to be Palestine but got stolen. Not fair that Palestinian Christians not get to have Easter there.

Sorry that very long message have lots to share and since special holiday say lots of prayers all day and special prayers for Palestine.

Oh no need to apologize thank you so much for sharing. Thank you for telling me about Good Friday, I didn't know what happens much so it's very good to know.

Also thank you so so much for you and your friends praying, Amy, that means so so much. I hope the US and Israel changes its mind too, even if there's a small, small chance to take. You're right, it's very sad that Palestinian Christians don't get to have christmas or easter or anything until things calm down... but also if it helps, they still do celebrate, in little ways and in big ways. I remember seeing Palm Sunday celebrations photos recently.

Thanks again Amy for sending this in, I appreciate it a lot. InshaAllah (God Willing in Arabic) we get to see a better world soon for us all. I'll keep you and your family in my Ramadan duaa (prayers where we ask Allah for things) for staying safe and healthy. ❤️🍉

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 16

Part One Part Fifteen Link to Ao3. Part 17

So late but I needed to post this as soon as I was happy with it haha! Thank you to @stevethehairington for betaing and @thefreakandthehair for listening to my endless rambles

Step Sixteen: Fix What You Brea

Decorating a christmas tree was an interesting experience. 

It wasn’t like Eddie had never seen a tree before, it just wasn’t something he had ever personally done. Before living with Wayne, his parents had never stayed in one place long enough to have a tree, and after he moved in with Wayne, they both agreed that the money would be better spent on having a present for Eddie instead of a tree to just stare at. Eddie had always thought it would be kind of stupid anyway. What was the point? 

But decorating Steve’s tree was actually pretty enjoyable. 

Sure, Frank and Jeff were fighting over eating the popcorn string instead of hanging it up, and yeah, Jonathan kept making little side comments to Nancy about it that were almost a shade too sarcastic for comfort, but the air was filled with laughter, and Steve was directing him on where to put the important ornaments, so it wasn’t all bad. 

“What about this one?” Eddie asked, holding up a delicate glass design. It was shaped like a pair of ballet slippers, hanging on a pink ribbon that gleamed in the lights on the tree. 

This was the best part in Eddie’s opinion. Every single one of the ‘special’ ornaments had some story attached. A family anecdote or a tradition long held. Steve wasn’t on Eddie’s level of storytelling, but there was something incredibly cozy about holding out an ornament and listening to Steve tell the tale as they hung it up together. 

“That ones my mom’s,” Steve said, his voice inordinately warm as he took the ornament and leaned into Eddie’s space to place it on the right side of the tree almost all the way at the top. “She was a ballet dancer back in the day. The ribbon is from her first set of pointe shoes.”

“That’s cool,” Eddie said, looking closer. Sure enough the satin was too thick to be a traditional ribbon, and there were rips in it that had been sewn back together with pale pink thread. 

“Yeah. You have to replace pointe shoes every twenty hours of dancing or so, but my mom’s family never had much money, so she used hers until they were too broken to dance,” Steve explained, tracing his index finger down the side of the ribbon, his eyes far away somewhere Eddie couldn’t quite reach. 

Huh. 

It was strange to think of anyone in Steve’s family as anything but rich. The Harringtons were well known snobs, and although Eddie didn’t personally know Steve’s mom, he had definitely heard about her. Head of the PTA, head of the ladies auxiliary, head of the church prayer group. She was a socialite through and through. 

Initially Eddie had heard the word ‘ballet’ and imagined an uptight little prima in a sterile looking studio with starched white tutus and perfect form. Steve’s story had shifted that, and now Eddie’s mind was conjuring up images of a tiny girl practicing and practicing her steps with shoes that were tearing at the seams. A small child trying and trying to be as good as everyone else when the tools she was working with were nowhere near what everyone else got to have. 

The same way Eddie himself had practiced on his first guitar before he had started dealing and was able to afford his Warlock. 

“Why’d she stop dancing?” Eddie asked softly, suddenly desperate to know the answer. He needed to make the two images connect, needed to find the through line that could turn a poor kid who just wanted to dance into a formidable small town queen. 

“She married my dad,” Steve replied, giving the exact answer Eddie hadn’t wanted to hear. “They moved here, had my brother, and Mom didn’t need to work anymore. The back room used to be her studio, but my parents decided to make it a second office for my dad.”

Eddie bit his tongue, looking at the tree but avoiding the shimmering ballet slippers sitting on the branch above his head. 

Steve’s mom had been like him, then she married a rich guy, and gave up all the things that mattered for money. She had been just like him, once upon a time. 

Would that happen to Eddie? 

Was he turning into someone different now because of his crush on Steve? 

It wasn’t a completely lunatic idea. He was here decorating a tree, which is something he normally saw as completely arbitrary and useless. He was letting a jock into hellfire, and not just any jock but the King. 

Would being near Steve chip away at all of Eddie’s long held beliefs? Would he move backwards and backwards because of this idiotic infatuation, until his guitar was just an ornament on a tree? 

“Eddie?”

And then with just one look, Steve erased the entire idea. One flash of those big brown eyes and that little side quirk of his head, and Eddie is a goner. There was no way Steve would ever turn his partner into some cookie cutter perfect picket fence person, no planet on Earth where Steve wouldn’t love someone enough to love their weird bits too. This was Steve. 

And besides, it wasn’t even like Eddie was the kind of person that had a shot with Steve in the first place. For a lot of reasons. 

“Sorry, got lost in thought, Sweetheart,” Eddie said, crooking his mouth into a half smile and ignoring the panging ache of guilt crushing his chest. Steve’s shoulders relaxed and he leaned closer, letting his arm rest against Eddie’s. 

“Well, don’t go somewhere I can’t follow,” He murmured, the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his body sending Eddie into a tailspin. 

Just like before when their hands were joined and Steve’s warm breath was blowing across his frozen fingers, Eddie’s mind stuttered to a halt. The endless loops and running thoughts were stuck in place, held motionless by the enigma that was Steve Harrington. It was overwhelming, too much and not enough all at the same time, and Eddie needed to get away from it before he did something he couldn’t take back. 

“C’mon, we’ve still got work to do, lazy bones!” Eddie chirped, slipping away from Steve and practically jumping over to the box of carefully packaged decorations. He was so focused on escaping, that he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings until it was a moment too late. 

At the same time Eddie picked up the next ornament, Jeff and Frank’s battle over the popcorn string reached its apex. Jeff let go of his side of the string, and Frank flew backwards. He barreled into Jonathan, who crashed into Nancy, who stumbled and bumped into Eddie just enough to make him lose his grip. 

The air was filled with the terribly delicate sound of breaking porcelain, and everything seemed to freeze in place. All six of them stared at the ground, where a tiny angel rested in three pieces where it had once been whole. 

“Shit, I’m sorry-”

“We were just fucking around, but we shouldn’t have-”

“Steve, I’m so-”

Floods of apologies from the rest, but Eddie stayed silent. He was watching Steve like a hawk as he slowly bent down on one knee and began to collect the pieces of the broken ornament. 

Steve hadn’t said a word yet, but he was still saying plenty. His shoulders were almost at his ears, and his fingers were shaking as they tried to grab onto the porcelain remains. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were starting to take on an honestly terrifying shine, and his blinking was getting more and more rapid by the second. 

Eddie should have left it alone, should have given Steve space to collect himself, but he had never been good at leaving things be. So, knowing it was the wrong thing to do, Eddie knelt down by Steve and reached out to put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. 

“Sweetheart?” 

“It’s fine,” Steve instantly replied, a completely hollow smile materializing on his face as he continued to blink far too much. He leaned away from Eddie’s touch, a tiny jerky movement that put a twenty pound weight on Eddie’s chest. Steve scrambled upwards, cradling the broken ornament close to his heart as he continued to fake a smile. “It was an accident, Babydoll. No worries.”  

It was an accident, but that didn’t make it ‘fine’. Steve was obviously so far from fine, and even that little silly name wasn’t enough to assure Eddie of the lie. It actually made it worse, like Steve was trying to appease him, to make Eddie let it go, when he really didn’t think he should. 

“I’m gonna go see if we have superglue. It doesn’t look too bad,” Steve said to the entire group, still faking it. Unlike Eddie though, the rest were buying it, tension leaking out of them with relieved smiles and quiet sighs. “You guys finish up though, people will be here any minute.” 

And then he was gone, ducking into the kitchen and disappearing from view, leaving Eddie unmoored and unsure of where to go. Every fiber in his being wanted to chase after Steve, catch him alone and hope that he wouldn’t keep trying to hide, but he was stuck in place. Steve had leaned away, escaped as soon as he could, that had to be a sign that he didn’t want Eddie near him. 

Wasn’t it? 

“Nice job, butterfingers,” Frank joked, gently jabbing an elbow into Eddie’s ribs in an effort to lighten up the air around him. 

Eddie threw him a distracted smile, still staring at the doorway Steve had disappeared through and trying to ignore the part of him that was desparate to follow. 

“I’m gonna go check on him,” Nancy murmured to Jonathan, nearly inaudible over the sound of Jeff and Frank looking for a broom to get any remaining slivers of porcelain on the ground. Jonathan nodded with a quiet hum, kissing Nancy on the cheek before letting her go without even a word. 

Because it was oh so natural for an ex-girlfriend to leave her current boyfriend in the dust to go check on her ex-boyfriend. 

Eddie watched her perfect little curls bounce in their perfect little ringlets as she practically skipped out after Steve. Now Nancy was going to go in there and comfort Steve, act all sweet and soft and drag Steve into thinking that she cared when she was the one that had cheated. Hell, maybe they would even kiss, and she would have her hooks in Steve again. 

Why wasn’t Jonathan upset about this?!

… Why was Eddie so upset about this?

Eddie let his eyes slip shut, his breath escaping in one huge gust as he finally began to wilt. It wasn’t really any of his business. He and Steve were friends. That was all. If Steve wanted to kiss Nancy, then he would kiss her, and that wasn’t Eddie’s choice. All Eddie had was a fanciful crush, a ridiculous dream, a hope for something that he should never have let himself hope for. 

But still. 

“I’m gonna find a bathroom,” Eddie muttered to no one, slipping out of the room and carefully creeping down the hallway towards the kitchen. 

He could hear the indistinguishable sound of voices coming from the room ahead, the open door tempting him closer and closer for a taste of what Steve and Nancy were discussing. 

Was Eddie really doing this? 

Yes. Yes he was. 

Resolved, Eddie leaned against the hidden side of the doorway, letting his head hit the wall as he shut his eyes and focused on eavesdropping. 

“-really don’t want to talk about it, Nancy,” Steve said, sounding utterly exhausted as cupboards opened and slammed shut. 

“Okay,” Nancy relented, clearly not happy to let the subject go, “let’s talk about the other thing?”

Other thing?

“Other thing?” Steve asked. Eddie bit back a snicker, his heart fluttering at the way Steve had mirrored him without even knowing it. 

“You invited Eddie?”

The humor instantly fled, rushing out of the hallway along with all of the oxygen, leaving Eddie dizzy and struggling to breathe. His indulgent smile soured into a scowl, and his hands curled into tight fists. 

It was the tone. That tone that Eddie had heard his whole life. The condescending, lower-than-me, dirt on the shoes of society tone. It was the kind of thing that girls like Nancy could use because they lived in perfect two story houses on cul-de-sacs, and Eddie was trailer trash from the bad side of town. 

Well fuck her. Fuck Nancy Wheeler and her stupid perfect life, and fuck her for hating him just for existing. Eddie could hate her right back. He had hating the conventional down to a science, an art form almost. He was brilliant at striking first, and he had half a mind to walk in there and tear her down a few notches, just for the fun of it.  

“What is your problem with him?” 

Eddie stopped in his tracks, blinking his eyes open and staring in shock at the wall in front of him, watching Steve’s shadow turn to face Nancy’s. 

“I don’t have a problem,” Nancy scoffed. 

“Obviously you do, Nance,” Steve shot back, crossing his arms  “Eddie’s a good guy. They’re my friends.” 

A good guy. 

It wasn’t exactly a glowing recommendation or anything, but the words and the protectiveness in Steve’s voice was doing terrible wonderful things to Eddie’s stomach. His fingers were still burning from being held by Steve before, and now his brain was on fire too, caught in the blaze that was Steve damn Harrington. 

“I… I just think he might be trouble,” Nancy admitted softly, quickly continuing when she heard Steve’s inhale of interjecting, “and not in the way you’re thinking! I promise.”

A long silence, one that gave Eddie too much time to think, one that left too much room for endless questions with zero answers. 

What kind of trouble did Nancy think Eddie was dragging Steve into? What would Eddie do that she was so scared of? Did she really care that much about Steve’s reputation? Steve didn’t even care about it anymore! 

Was she scared for her brother? Why was all of this so damn cryptic?

“In what way?” Steve finally asked, and Eddie leaned in, needing the answer.

“Just-” Nancy cut herself off with a frustrated little sound, and her shadow eclipsed Steve as she stood on her tiptoes to put her arms around his shoulders. 

“If you ever need to talk. About anything. Me and Jonathan are here. We would never judge you for anything. You know that right?” 

Eddie barely heard it, the words muffled between the two bodies, but he heard Steve’s soft chuckle, and saw the way his shadow arms wrapped around Nancy.

Even just an image of them on the wall looked so… right. 

It made a small part of Eddie die inside. 

He closed his eyes once, hating the burn that was already there waiting. He shouldn’t have come over and listened. He shouldn’t have done any of this. But as Eddie took a step back to walk to the living room with his tail tucked between his legs, Nancy spoke again. 

“And you need to tell them about El before she gets here.”

El?

Who was El? 

“Shit, you’re right,” Steve sighed, pulling away from Nancy, “I totally forgot.”

“Do you remember the story?”

“Nancy I’m the one that came up with it,” Steve said, annoyance tinging his voice, “I remember the story.”

Story? 

Eddie was definitely eavesdropping about something bigger than relationship woes now, and the mystery of it all dug right into his soft spot, pulling him away from his aching heart and tugging him forward with a desperate need to know more. 

This was the thing that Wayne always tried to warn him about. Eddie’s need to know everything was always getting him in trouble, and he had heard plenty of times about what curiosity did to cats. 

That was all true… but the thing that Wayne always seemed to forget was that satisfaction brought that cat back. 

“It’s important that we get this right, Steve. You know what-”

But whatever Steve knew, Eddie didn’t seem destined to hear it. As he leaned closer, intent on catching every word, he overbalanced, tripping over his own feet and slamming his entire body against the other side of the doorway, coming into full view of both of them. Steve and Nancy both jolted, pulling away from each other and staring at Eddie with slack jaws and wide eyes. 

Fuck. 

“This is what I get for never tying my shoes,” Eddie joked awkwardly, trying to be casual as he straightened up and let out the world’s worst fake laugh. His brain was racing, running as fast as it could to come up with any rational reason for him being there besides eavesdropping. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, his brow furrowing. He didn’t even seem to catch what was going on, but Nancy was practically glaring, her lips pursed in quiet fury. 

“I’m fine, Sweetheart,” Eddie reassured him, ignoring Nancy’s look in favor of focusing all of his attention on Steve. If he played it right, then Nancy calling him out would just look like she was against him, which Steve had already tried to stop. 

He wasn’t being manipulative. This was just strategy, the same kind of strategic thinking that any dungeon master worth their salt would employ. It was improv, a game, an act. Nothing bad. Nothing wrong. 

So why was guilt creeping cold fingers down Eddie’s spine? 

“What do you want?” Nancy asked, clearly trying to go for nonchalant but coming off completely cold with her crossed arms and flat inflection. It wasn’t working in her favor if Steve’s quick sharp look was anything to go by, and Eddie did his best not to preen under Steve’s protection. 

“Drinks? The boys were wondering if you had anything stronger than eggnog,” Eddie wondered, coming up with his excuse on the fly. It would work. Frank was never one to turn down a stiff drink, especially if it came loaded with whatever ridiculously expensive alcohol the Harringtons were keeping stashed away here. 

Nancy tossed her hair over his shoulder, raising a single brow as her expression stayed firmly unimpressed. It made Eddie want to squirm in place, but he held firm, meeting her head on. 

“You know there’s gonna be kids at this party, right?” Nancy said, her voice a little less frosty, but a hell of a lot more condescending. “And the chief of police.”

Eddie bristled, opening his mouth to tell her exactly where Hopper could stick it, but Steve intervened before he could. 

“There’s nothing wrong with having a little,” Steve offered in a mediating tone, already moving towards one of the high cabinets and starting to open it. “But just one before they get here. Last thing I need is the brats trying to convince me they’re old enough for whiskey.” 

“Jack and Coke? Or are you spoiling me with the good stuff?” Eddie asked, possibly laying it on an inch too thick, but unable to help it when Steve was giving him that fondly annoyed side eye. 

“We do not drink the good stuff as a mixed beverage,” Steve lectured, grabbing a fat bottle from behind a box on the shelf and bringing it down, “but I think breaking out the crown wouldn’t be amiss.”

“A crown for a king!” Eddie crowed, taking the bottle of Crown Royal from Steve and wiggling his eyebrows. Steve huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head at Eddie’s antics and turning towards the fridge. 

“Here, Nance,” Steve said absentmindedly, holding out a bottle of coke for her, “take that inside and you guys can make your own before everyone else gets here. I’ll be in once I find the glue.” 

“Why don’t I help you?” Eddie blurted out, his mouth moving before his mind even caught up with what he was saying. 

“Oh, sure,” Steve agreed, still distracted as he began to root around in cupboards. 

“You’ll be needing this,” Eddie said sweetly, offering up the bottle to Nancy as she walked past him. 

Nancy’s eyes narrowed impossibly further, and she let out a short sigh, taking the bottle of alcohol with a vicious little swipe and striding out of the room. Eddie watched her go, barely resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at her retreating form. 

He had won. That was what mattered. 

Did Eddie even know what he had won? No, but he still felt like he did. 

Once it was just the two of them, Eddie’s hackles began to slowly lower. There was no need to be on guard when it was just him and Steve. He idly twirled around the kitchen table, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen and looking around the room with distracted curiosity. He had been in the kitchen before, but never really cared enough to explore the details. 

Now every fridge magnet was a new discovery, and the way that the spices were lined up on the rack was information that seemed important. But the most interesting thing in the kitchen was the angel on the counter right by Eddie’s fingers. 

It was a pretty thing, delicate, but somehow still beautiful, even in parts. The sculpted wings were curled around the figure of a little boy, kneeling with his hands cupped over a star. At the bottom of the ornament was the name ‘Jaime’ in ornate script. 

Jaime. 

“Who’s Jaime?” Eddie wondered aloud. He had mostly been talking to himself, but his words caused Steve to stop short, flying around from the drawer he had been searching through and whirl around to face Eddie.

“Where did you…” Steve trailed off, noticing the angel. He wilted like a dying flower, biting at the inside of his cheek as he turned his back to Eddie, returning to the drawer of odds and ends. 

“Jaime’s my brother,” Steve said shortly. 

Eddie’s shoulders were starting to tighten, but he pushed through the feeling. It wasn’t a rejection, or an outright refusal to speak. Steve was just being cagey, secretive the way he sometimes was. 

Eddie could crack that. 

“Ah, yes, the elusive mystery brother,” He joked, putting on a fake accent and bopping over to Steve’s side, bumping against him in an effort to get Steve smiling again. “Will the elder Harrington sibling be making an appearance at tonight’s festivities?” 

Maybe if he was, Eddie would get some answers. Reasons for the panic attack at the Hideout, or some details on the mysterious ‘El’. The possibility of unraveling another part of Steve was enticing, coaxing Eddie further down the rabbit hole. 

“Um…”

Just like that the curiosity was gone. Instantly killed by the way Steve’s adams apple was starting to bob, and the sharp shaking inhale that went along with it. Eddie’s heart fell to his feet, and his fingers felt cold for the first time since Steve had touched him. 

“I was just kidding around. You don’t have to-” Eddie began.

“It’s okay,” Steve interrupted, still worrying his lip as his eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but at Eddie. He was gearing up, trying to find what he wanted to say or maybe trying to force it out. Either way, Eddie was going to be frozen in place until Steve was ready to speak. 

“Jaime um… Jaime died,” Steve finally managed, the word practically shooting out of his mouth the second he was done choking on it. 

It was like being dunked in a freezing cold shower and tossed out in the snow. Not only had Eddie forced Steve into talking about his dead brother, he had broken the ornament obviously meant to commemorate him. 

If he had a gun, he would be pushing it up against his temple. Nope. Even that wouldn’t be enough. 

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed out, wishing he could just shut his damn mouth for once, but he was too keyed up to stay quiet. The apology was worthless, but it was already spilling out of his mouth, vomiting itself up, “Steve, I-”

“Really, it’s fine,” Steve insisted, busying himself with looking for the glue. “How could you know? Besides, he died before I was born, so…”

“So?” Eddie prompted, not really sure where Steve was going with that. 

Steve said ‘so’ like that meant it didn’t matter, but from just one glance Eddie knew how much this did. Steve, who was one of the most open people Eddie knew, was hunched over, practically trying to disappear from Eddie’s gaze, hiding away whatever emotions were trying to push themselves up to the surface, demanding to be felt. 

“So- I don’t know,” Steve said, cutting himself off with a sigh. He held up the tiny bottle of superglue, walking over to the other side of the counter, his back to Eddie again. “But it’s my mom’s favorite ornament, and she would get really upset if she came home and it was broken,”

Steve gave a tiny laugh that wasn’t really a laugh, the tip of his finger running over the edge of the wing like it had run over the satin of the ballet slipper ribbon. 

“Not that I even know when she’s coming home again,” He whispered, the bitterness in the words so heavy that it was sitting on Eddie’s tongue. 

It was just wrong. Eddie had never heard Steve sound so beaten down, even in the parking lot the other night. This was somehow worse than just watching Steve shake through an unseen panic that he couldn’t control. 

But, unlike that night, Eddie could do something about this. So, rather than satisfy his own curiosity, Eddie put his needs to the side. 

“Can I?” Eddie asked, holding out his hand for the glue and the angel. “I work on miniatures all the time. I’m super steady.” 

Steve looked down at the hand outstretched toward him, then up at Eddie. A long slow look that went deep in Eddie, making him want to squirm with how far it was going. 

Then, finally, Steve relented. He handed over the pieces and hopped up onto the counter, watching Eddie like a hawk. 

Eddie immediately went to work, bending his head close to the angel and narrowing his eyes as he carefully glued first the broken wing on, and then the small corner of the name plaque. He held both in a firm but soft grip, balancing the ornament effortlessly between his hands as he waited for the glue to bond the pieces back together. And, as he did all of that, he worked up the courage to say what he was thinking. 

“You know it’s okay, right?” Eddie whispered, unable to make his voice any louder. 

“What is?” Steve whispered back, just as quiet. 

“If you aren’t okay,” Eddie replied, braving a quick glance up at Steve’s face. 

It was the wrong thing to do. The blank look of utter shock on Steve’s face was painful, hurting Eddie inside in a place he didn’t even know existed. 

All at once Eddie was sure that he was the first person to ever tell Steve such a thing, and that was just… too much. It was too much pressure, too much potential to fuck it up and hurt Steve even more, too much of a chance that Eddie would say the wrong thing. 

But it was also too much to not be sure Steve knew that it was the absolute truth. 

“You’re allowed to not be okay,” Eddie said, gently placing the repaired angel in Steve’s palm. 

Taglist: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name@minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

[actualmermaid]

Hey Christians

I am once again getting reports that some of you are appropriating Jewish holidays and traditions, and 🌠 you should immediately stop doing that 🌠

Since I'm also a Christian, maybe you'll take this better from me. I usually see this behavior from people who are white, American, and/or Evangelical-adjacent, and I suspect that you're messing around with Jewish stuff because you feel alienated from your own cultural background, whatever that may be. You belong to what is essentially the big-box-store version of Christianity, and you're probably hungry for something that feels more "authentic." That's 100% understandable! But it is not a reason to appropriate traditions that belong to a community that has not shared them with you!

Luckily, there are some pretty easy ways to get acquainted with your own cultural heritage through traditional Christian observances.

Get acquainted with the traditional liturgical calendar. Our observances are structured around the solar year, and historically, these observances were tied to the patterns of agricultural labor. Religious festivals also had seasonal significance: the birth of Jesus coincides with the lengthening of days after the winter solstice, the resurrection of Jesus coincides with the rebirth of plants and animals in the spring, and so forth. The more you learn, the more you realize how much we've lost/forgotten!

If you know where your ancestors came from, you can research how folk-religious festivals are practiced in those parts of the world! What foods are eaten? What games are played? What stories are told? If there's a church associated with "your" cultural community, you might consider visiting them around important festivals and learning what they do. Remember, you are a student, and you should still approach these observances with respect and openness!

Here's a non-exhaustive list of things to try if you're feeling the temptation to appropriate a closed Jewish practice:

Instead of observing Rosh Hashanah because you're feeling left-out by the lack of major Christian holidays at this time of year, start looking forward to the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi (October 4). Here in the US, it's common for churches to hold a special "Blessing of the Animals" service or a "St. Francis the Peacemaker" service, often in cooperation with churches from other denominations! It's a lot of fun!

Instead of trying to host your own Passover seder (I have a horror story about this that I will refrain from sharing out of respect for my Jewish friends), just celebrate Easter like the rest of us! Easter, not Christmas, is the most important day in the Christian liturgical year. There are MANY ways to celebrate Easter in a more "traditional" way than you might be used to.

Celebrating Hanukkah as a Christian makes you look fucking stupid! Don't do it! Instead, if you want a multi-day traditional Christian observance, our things are the seasons of Advent and Christmastide! Again, depending on your cultural background, there are lots of ways to "practice Christianity" around this time. Fasting (similar to fasting during Lent) and lighting the candles on an Advent wreath are easy ways to start.

Don't try to observe Torah, that's not our thing! If you want to practice more "rules," consider trying out one of the many Christian fasting traditions (NOT the "Daniel Fast," which is basically a crash diet attached to some very bullshit theology), praying the Daily Office or using prayer beads, or wearing a head-covering in church. ("But I'm not Catholic," you might say, but if you do some research you'll discover that none of these things are unique to Catholics! You're not Jewish either, but that's not stopping you from messing around with their stuff!)

Before you come at me with excuses about this not being "biblical" or whatever, keep in mind that many Jewish observances are also not "biblical"! If you really want to try out a Jewish holiday, you should make a Jewish friend and let them invite you, but it's pretty hard to make Jewish friends if you're constantly trying to steal their shit! (The last 2000 years of Jewish-Christian relations are hard proof of this!)

[internetscenarios]

HIIIIII just wanted to ask for some Larry x Masc! Partner headcanons? No one ever seems to make one centred around a mlm relationship even though he’s bi lol 🩷🩷🩷

omg yes

happy pride guys🫶🫶

larry x masc!reader 𓆩♡𓆪

- so sweet to u omg

- if theres a height difference 😆

- u will carry him on ur back or the other way round

- theres so many silly pictures of you two on his instagram

- like he has a highlight reel dedicated to u

- the group lovess u

- u star in willy vlogs, if u and larry every hold the camera its just pure silliness

- defo has u on stream or ur in the background occasionally if ur relationship is public

- absolutely terrified at roblox games if u play them with him

- if nick every brings bento to the house u and larry are alll over him acting like hes your grandchild

- this man is never quite just pure yap yap so if u like listening ur in for a treat

- think he definitely loves holding hands whether it be in public or in the comfort of ur own homeee

- if its ur anniversary or a special day he gets isaac and nick to help him make a special dinner for u but they fail miserably but u appreciate his effort

- feel like he would beg for anyones help in the tgc if its something romantic

- u call him mr croft he calls ur mr (last name) 😆

- he talks spanish to u🫶🫶

- petnames in spanish?? would do cringey ones as a joke but call u cute ones not as a joke

- i remmeber in the christmas group video isaac was like “say the lord’s prayer in spanish” if u were ever teasing eachother u would do stuff like that

sorry if its short🫶🫶 i wanna get all my requests done so i can work on big things like fics when i have time

[it-happened-one-fic]

Relentless - Cyno

Author Notes: I'm breaking the rules a bit and posting today instead of tomorrow, but Christmas and college are going to have me far to busy to even have a prayer of posting then, so here we are. Writing for Cyno is always a bit of an adventure because I'm not very good and coming with puns and Cyno-style jokes, which makes writing him a little difficult. Nonetheless, I'm pretty happy with this fic, though it is a wee bit more descriptive than some of my other stuff. I blame the fact I listed to "The Lightning Strike (What If This Storm Ends?)" by Snow Patrol while writing this. It definitely affected the way this fic came together. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ reader is or was a student (Akademiya)/ fluff/ romance/ Cyno simping for his partner a little

Word count: 709

You were relentless, just like a matra. Which was, perhaps, an odd thought coming from Cyno. But that was how he’d seen you for quite some time now. You’d tracked down his heart in a way not unlike how he would search out criminals who fled to the desert. But while he took them like captives back to Akademiya, you took no captives. No, when you had caught his heart, you’d been uncompromising. You’d taken it over in its totality. And so, in that sense, you were relentless, like lightning. That too was possibly an amusing way for Cyno, an electro vision holder, to view you. But it was nonetheless true. It had been a rainy day in Sumeru City, which wasn’t really odd considering how close the city was to the rainforest. Cyno had been walking to the Akademiya to double-check a report before going out to do his work as per usual. Nothing out of the ordinary or anything special. But then he’d seen you. A common sight in and of itself considering you were a student at the Akademiya. To this day, Cyno did not know what had made him stop and look towards you. Because while he had already known you, he hadn’t known you well at that time. Rather, you were just another student, relentlessly going about your work even in the rain. But something akin to fate had caused the General Mahamatra to pause. Or maybe he’d chosen, for reasons unknown even to him, to look your way. But that was when it had happened. Lightning striking close to the city, lighting up the otherwise dreary sky and backlighting you with the full force of nature’s fury. You’d looked up in that moment, making eye contact with Cyno as you seemed to glow with a perfect halo, backlit by nature’s own glory, in front of him. A simple image that seemed like something that, in all his years, he’d never seen before. It stirred something impossibly deep within him. And when the peeling thunder crashed through the sky, Cyno realized this was a moment he’d never recover from. Because what if, when the storm cleared, he no longer saw you as you were in that instant ever again? Somehow, it was a thought he couldn’t bear. Not then, and not now. The very idea of that moment becoming a distant echo of a memory had chafed him in a way that had reminded Cyno of desert sand in his clothes. It was unbearable. So he’d found himself walking towards you, meeting you in the middle of a raised platform that formed part of the path up to the Akademiya, just as lightning struck once more. Almost like nature was signaling that something impossibly life-changing had just happened in that instant. And that, for Cyno at the very least, there was no going back after that moment. And it was that very moment that had led to now. The present, with you laying beside him still wrapped in blankets with a pillow under your head as you continued to doze even as a storm raged right outside your shared window. He let out an exhale, and you stirred, almost as if you sensed his gaze. Your eyes fluttered open and met his, a smile curving across your face as you sat up right as lightning struck. Backlighting you just as it had on that day that seemed so long ago. And even now, despite the fears he’d held that day, you were still as radiant. Making it wholly impossible to look away from you as you struck, just like lightning. Seizing his heart in your relentless grip with the mere flash of a smile before quietly saying his name in a way that was somehow punctuated by the crashing thunder that seemed to shake the world itself. Deafening, in a way that was replicated by how your voice could deafen his ears to all other voices. Cyno felt a smile creep onto his face as he realized that this was a feeling that wouldn’t fade. Instead, you would continue to overwhelm him with feelings of love so intense that they rivaled nature’s greatest show of power. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

A Hell's Kitchen Christmas [Hallmark Trope]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Hallmark Special tv movie trope 1. Busy career woman in big city reluctantly returns to hometown for problem™. Handsome man in town who she initially clashes with wins her over and they fall in love. She stays in hometown. It is also Christmas. "You return to Hell's Kitchen to help your estranged dad in a legal battle over his hardware store. You’re a hot-shot Miami lawyer after all, how hard could it be? Except the charming, handsome local lawyer named Matt Murdock your dad hired to help him keeps getting in your way. And yes, it is Christmas. Because this is a Hallmark Movie."

Warnings: No use of Y/N. No pronouns are used for reader, so any gender applies! Catholic/Religious mass mentioned/attended by reader, reader’s mom is dead, Christmas, Fluff on top of fluff.

WC: 1500

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The footsteps of parishioners thumped softly against the carpeted aisle of Clinton Church, nearly drowned out by the blaring of the organ as it played them out while they all exited. Christmas Eve Midnight Mass had just ended. Typically always over-crowded with those Sister Maggie called “Christers” (those who only attend church on Christmas and Easter), the many people walked past where Matt sat in a pew towards the back, chatting about what excitement tomorrow brought them (technically today, as it was nearly 1AM on Christmas Morning).

Matt remained in his seat, listening to the crowd depart, until there was just one other person in the chapel with him.

He noticed you as soon as he sat down before the service. Despite the many unfamiliar heartbeats in the crowd tonight, he picked yours out right away. Your citrus-scented perfume confirmed your presence when its pleasant smell reached him. 

You were alone, which Matt found odd. Not joined by your father for the holiday celebrations as he expected you to be.

He heard you finally stand from your spot and walk up to the altar just as the last of the crowd left. The lighter trembled in between your fingers as you picked up a tea light and lit it, placing it amongst the many flaming symbols of other people's prayers.

“Shit God, I know I don’t pray a lot… or at all really.”

Matt listened as you spoke, chuckling to himself. You clearly hadn’t noticed him there.

“Look, it’s just my dad… the hardware store has been his whole life since mom died and please, you just can’t take that away from him. I know me leaving didn’t help, I know. I’m still living with that guilt, believe me.” you continued to pray, sniffling and wiping away a tear from your eye

“But this pro-bono guy he’s got. I don’t think it’s gonna be enough. I guess what I’m asking is please just let him open his heart enough for me to help. Or at least for this Murdock schmuck to get it together enough and actually save my dad’s store. You know, like a nice Christmas miracle? Um… thanks God.”

You crossed yourself and bowed to the altar, turning to leave.

Matt could tell you spotted him from the gasp that left your mouth and the way your heart skipped a beat.

“Matt. Hey. Um… Merry Christmas.” you said, still trying not to cry as you walked over to him

“Hey. Merry Christmas to you too. Where’s your dad?”

“Oh, he had a long day today. You know him, he never stops working. I told him to stay home and rest. Can I walk you home?”

“Oh you don’t have to…”

“Come on Matt, it’s late and it’s Christmas. It’s only a few blocks anyway. Let me walk you home.”

Matt nodded and took your arm as you led him out of the church and into the cold New York night. The snowflakes danced around as the two of you walked, arm in arm. Crunching footsteps made a path through the white-covered sidewalk and left evidence of the route to Matt’s apartment you took. 

“Did you not bring a warmer coat? I can hear you shivering.” Matt exclaimed

“I didn’t. I never come home for Christmas, but with everything going on with my dad, I booked the trip so last minute and a winter coat isn’t exactly something I need in Miami.” you replied, tugging at the sleeves of your thin jacket

“May I?” Matt offered, releasing your arm for a moment to shrug off his wool pea coat.

Gloved hands ghosted your neck as he situated the garment around your shoulders. It was snuggly and warm and reminded you of Matt in a way you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

“Thank you Matt. Not just for the coat, but for everything. You’re really helping my dad out.” you said, letting him take your arm once more and resuming your journey

“Oh yeah? You sure I’m not just some schmuck he hired?”

“Shit. You heard that? I didn’t mean it.” you shook your head and Matt just chuckled

“You really are a good lawyer.” you continued “Everything you’ve proposed we try and all the research you’ve done… I know I’ve been really hard on you since I got here and I’m sorry. I’m a big deal at my firm in Miami and I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am. And my dad is about to get evicted and he doesn’t even call his own kid to help? I know I’m in corporate finance law and I’m not licensed in New York but still… He didn’t tell me this was happening for months and he hired you and I was hurt.”

“So why’d you come back to New York then? If you think I’m a good enough lawyer to help your dad out that is?” Matt asked

“I didn’t think that at first. Didn’t think a small pro-bono firm could take on the big developer trying to tear down the whole block. But now that I’ve been working with you on this, well I was wrong. And maybe I came back too because I missed him and I missed home.”

“Yeah?”

The streets of Hell’s Kitchen were practically empty at this hour, families all tucked away in their homes waiting for the excitement of Christmas morning. It was tranquil, seeing the city that never sleeps so quiet and calm. The electric buzz that New York always seems to have was still there, but dimmed. 

“After my mom died, we just grew apart. He threw himself into work and I threw myself into school and my career. I think he was bitter that I moved away, that I didn’t want to take over the store from him.”

“Well you shouldn’t feel bad about going on your own path.” Matt reassured

“Yeah but it was the way I did it. But now that I’ve been back, god it’s like we used to be. Close you know?”

“Yeah I was really close with my dad too. And I’d give anything to have him back. To have what you and your dad have.”

“Shit you’re right. I guess that really puts it in perspective.” you replied

The purple and gold light of the video billboard on Matt’s block reflected off the snowflakes like a disco ball. A festive touch considering what day it was. You stopped your journey just outside his front door, facing him to observe the way he licked his lips as he formulated his next thought.

“I think he just wants what’s best for you.” 

“I know that. It’s a shame it took me this long to figure out what’s actually best for me.” you replied

“Oh yeah? You figured that out just in the 10 days you’ve been home? Wow counselor, research and evidence gathering stage usually takes longer.”

“Very funny Murdock. Yeah actually, I have.” you replied

 “And what did you figure out?”

“Matt, the work that you do, seeing it in action and how it’s helped my dad, it really inspired me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I think I want to shift my legal specialty. Find a firm to work for that takes on clients like yours and actually helps people. And Matt, I don’t know that I would have discovered that if it weren’t for you.”

A wide smile spread across Matt’s face as he lowered and shook his head.

“Well, I might know of just the firm that could use a lawyer as smart as you. You’d have to stay in Hell’s Kitchen though, or at the very least New York…”

“Matt, are you offering me a job?” you asked

“Well I mean you’d have to pass the bar in New York first, but yeah, actually I am.”

“What are you doing tomorrow– or today I guess technically?” you asked

“For Christmas? I don’t really have plans. I used to go to dinner at Foggy’s family, but his parents became snowbirds a few years ago, so now all the Nelsons travel to Florida for the holidays. Why?”

“My dad is cooking a fabulous meal and we’d love to have you join us. To thank you for all you’ve done. For both of us.”

“I don’t want to impose on your first Christmas in years with your dad.” Matt replied

“Oh c’mon Matt, you have to come! You’re practically family at this point; you’re saving my dad’s business, you’re repairing our relationship, you’re offering me a job.”

“Okay, okay. I will come.” he conceded

“Great! We can tell my dad I’m moving back to New York. Together.”

“Does that mean you’re saying yes? To my offer?”

“Yes Matt, I am saying yes. To working for you. And staying in New York.”

Reaching out with a trembling hand in the cold night air, you ran your thumb along his jaw. Matt let out a chuckle as you reveled in the way his stubble felt against your freezing fingers. A sigh escaped you into his plush, soft lips when he finally kissed you, warming you instantly from the chill.

“Merry Christmas, Matt.”

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.”