#who are currently experiencing the shit part where youre just looking in the mirror and wishing for things that feel impossible:

[queermasculine]

i just wanted to say thank you for your blog all your post are so gender affirming for me, a they/them lesbian who is still in a situation where i cant present as masculine as i feel myself to be, i love all the depictions of butchness it helps me feel much more at peace with my identity if that makes any sense so thanks <3

oh man, you saying that is really taking me back to when i was in the same situation. how i survived for so long not looking like myself, i have no idea. spent the entirety of my teen years just dreaming... now like half the stuff i thought was impossible has come true. thank fuck for those dreams i guess.

and thank fuck for your dreams, anon. hold onto them. they're made of powerful stuff, they'll carry you where you need to go. consider the present your prettyboy phase. that's what i see when i look at old photos of myself now. the masculinity was there even when it was covered in awkward florals, and it's in you right now. it's in your bones — the way you feel is evidence enough of that — and some day it'll be exactly as visible on the outside as you want it to be. i pinky promise.

[witchbeezy]

Pick an Image for a Channeled Message

Peace! Tonight I’m sharing channeled messages based on the image you pick.  

Please take a moment to ground and center yourself before choosing a pile down below. Then Scroll until you find your message. Thank you so much for reading. 

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I’m currently not doing personal readings at this time. If anyone who claims to be me reaches out to you for a reading IT IS A SCAM. If you’d like to support me and my work you can do so by liking this post, resharing, and following me. If you’d like to send a donation you can to my Cashapp $ConjureLightandBP

Disclaimer: Don’t force a message to resonate if it doesn’t. Only take what resonates and leave behind what doesn’t. The messages shared here shouldn’t be taken over the advice and guidance of medical and legal professionals as well as your own discernment.

Pile 1

If you selected this image one of the things I got for you was the feeling of confusion and uncertainty. This uncertainty revolves around your place in this world. You may find yourself comparing yourself to others who seemingly have their shit together and have their whole lives mapped out. The other day I got this channeled message about people in boxes and how everyone is given their own box with their own puzzle they need to solve. I feel you guys fall in line with those who are in a box with multiple different puzzles and they are all mixed together AND you don’t have a picture to guide you. The solution to that was to not focus on trying to put the puzzle together in a specific way. You can either decide to leave the puzzle as it is, a complete mess, or you can just put together what you can. Whichever you choose is the right option for you. Your life is like that. You don’t have to have your life completely figured out and you can just continue living it. Or you can try to put something together. It doesn’t have to be a completely perfectly laid out picture. I personally feel those who do have a perfectly laid out picture are actually limited because they are confined to the puzzle they’ve been given. Those who don’t have a specific image to conform to are given the freedom to explore and express who the parts of themselves are and then deconstruct who they thought they were to recreate something else and that's perfectly fine. For you I feel it’s important that you evaluate what your ideal life looks like? It’s important that you don’t put a lot of pressure on yourself to answer this question because remember your gift is that you have the ability to build a picture, but also do away to create a new one when it serves you to do so. I also feel it’s important that you do take a good look at your life. When you’re feeling confused about life and unsure about what you do want. Sometimes it’s easier to recognize what isn’t working or serving you right now. Then instead of focusing on building a life that you want you can focus on building a life that’s the opposite of what you know you don’t want. 

Pile 2 

I feel your message is a mirror image to pile 1. The energy I got from their pile was confusion and uncertainty. But for you this feels like you’re coming into a space of peace, completeness, and certainty. I feel you guys are closing out a cycle that had you feeling like you weren’t on solid foundation. You guys may be able to relate to Pile 1 as well because I feel that energy may be what you may have experienced, and some of the guidance I gave them you probably used to get yourself to where you are currently. When looking at your image I’m getting the question “what do I do now?” and the answer to that question is nothing. Right now at this moment there is no need for you to do anything. Right now you’re meant to do nothing. I feel the Divine wants that for you. You may find yourself in cycles where your immediate response is to find a way out of this cycle. But you will find your best response when in this cycle is to have no response. Instead it’s important that you balance your nervous system, and allow the Divine to cater to you. A lot of people have the idea that if they take charge and take care of everything that they’ll have peace, but real peace comes from knowing that you don’t have to be in complete control 24/7 and you’ll still be okay and everything will still work out in your best interest. In the last pile I also gave them some insight on a download I had received yesterday. I’m also getting  for you a separate download I had received on a different day. That download was this society, the collective, and even our lineage can put certain limitations on us. For example an easy one would be about money. Society and the collective can convince us that we don’t have enough by constantly filling our minds with the story that gas prices and the overall cost of living is going up. For most of us our automatic response is that we have to do something. We either have to find a side hustle or get a second job to keep up with this made up story. Depending on your lineage it can feel hard to rest because just giving your body rest feels wrong due to you coming from a line of people who were hard working because they were under the spell that they needed to be. Most of these problems are worldly and it’s our immediate belief as worldly beings that we have to come up with a worldly solution, but by falling too deeply into your worldly vessel you forget that you are also spiritual. It’s easy to forget that you have an unseen and untouchable tool at your disposal which is Source/The Universe/God whatever you want to call it. In any area that you feel blocked and confused on how you’re going to find a solution that is your cue to take a step back, relinquish your control, and surrender whatever your situation is to Spirit. And I feel there are people out there that don’t believe that they can and that’s because they’ve been sucked up into worldly or 3D programming. Going against your worldly programming takes practice, but it’s so worth it to work on creating balance between your worldly vessel and your Spirit. 

Pile 3 

When sitting with your image some words came through, and they are play, playground, wonder, and the Jungle Book. I feel the message that you need to hear is that the solution to get yourself out of the dark is to step into your childlike essence. Become curious about the world around you. Lately the Divine has been showing me messages about boxes, and I feel right now your perception of the world and your beliefs about the world is very closed off to all the possibilities. I don’t know why but I want to talk about the Jungle Book, and I might be wrong because I haven’t watched it in a really long time. But what I remember was that Mowgli wanted to stay in the Jungle because it was home and it was fun and his love for the Jungle helped him overlook how much danger he was in. It was the older beings or his guardians that tried to get Mowgli to see that the Jungle was a dangerous place. I feel your inner guardian, this adult version you’ve grown up to be that's been conditioned by the things it experienced, has created distance between your child spirit and this is essentially why you feel locked out of your light and your personal paradise. I feel it’s okay to accept that you are an adult now, but also remember to hold space for your child spirit to play and express itself. Tap into your child spirit’s innocence and natural wonder about the world when you feel like your options are limited or you feel closed off from solutions. I’m hearing there are multiple solutions and outcomes out there for you but you won’t be able to see them from your guardians perspective only with your child spirit’s innocence. I feel you may be experiencing a split between yourself even if you’re not exactly aware of it. By staying too long in your guardian energy and not spending enough time with your child spirit you’ve unintentionally created a divide with yourself. This split is between your physical self and your spirit. Your physical body has adapted to the conditioning, and in order to abide by the conditioning it has to reject the spirit. You may be feeling lost and out of alignment. Unsure of who you are and what you should be. You should be you, and in order to connect to you, you must follow your child spirit because your child spirit is the salve that will heal your fragmented soul. 

Pile 4 

When sitting with your image I immediately heard the word fairies and also mystic and magic. I feel if you chose this card, I could definitely see some of you being super into wearing the little elf ears and even wings. You might also do that little makeup thing with the blush on the tip of the nose and checks. You don’t have to be, but I do get the energy from you that you like to be eccentric, and you like to look magical. I’m also getting the word moss. You probably feel most magical when you're outside sitting with Nature. I definitely get the energy from you that you're into magic. This may be super specific so only take this if it resonates, but I am getting the message about a recent ritual that you did. This is confirmation that ritual will pay off in your favor. Even if you haven’t done a ritual recently, I feel the message the Divine has for you is to not doubt your magic and don’t be afraid to stand out from the crowd. Your uniqueness is a blessing in a world where conformity is the norm. I also feel that you may sometimes feel bad because you may get made fun of because of your belief in all things mystical, and I’m hearing it’s important that you don’t allow people who don’t have access to magic make you turn your back on yours. I feel you magic has the ability to bring healing to people and to the Earth. I’m seeing a green aura around you. Don’t forget to ground and take care of yourself so that you can continue to do your work and share your healing spirit with the collective because it is definitely needed. I hope you don’t mind, but I just have this strong urge to say I love you and I am so happy you’re here. I just feel that with my heart even though I don’t know you and you don’t know me. Going back to what I was saying earlier about how other people may try to put doubt into you regarding your magic. I feel this magic has been passed down to you by your Ancestors, although it may have skipped previous generations because they rejected the magic or couldn’t tap into it. You’ll know this is true if you find that most of your magic and rituals come from out of nowhere. You don’t do a lot of research; you just have a natural bond with the land and your gifts, and you just listen to your own drum. This is your Ancestors way of communicating with you by passing on information to you. This may happen mostly in your dreams because I’m seeing some of you rise with new rituals and new knowledge on your mind. 

[akiology]

In the Dead of the Night || Part 3

You are married to two of the most infamous information brokers in Tokyo.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Word Count: 1.1k Pairing: Akira Kurusu x Reader x Goro Akechi Note: THIS IS AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE!! this chapter focuses more on akechi's history! also i am still not sure how long this is gonna be so you might see me gradually add parts to the links haha

The thought of never being born delights Akechi. And it's not just because of his self loathing, although it plays a part, but he genuinely thinks that his mother's life would be so much better if he was never born. His mother was definitely not the best, but she tried. That is what Akechi experienced and believed.

He didn't know much about his mother's life before she had him, but he knows her life would have been so much better. When she chose the active decision to keep him, is when her misery started. Many people shunned and judged his mother for having a child out of wedlock. She had lesser job opportunities, and thus she resorted to being a nightclub worker.

He was not dumb, he knew the kind of work his mother does. When his mother brings someone home she would give him some spare change and send him to the bathhouse. But regardless, he wishes to grow up fast so that he can work instead and get his mother out of that hellhole.

Until... that day.

"Mama! I am home!"

"Mama?"

".... Mama? What happened to you?"

Perhaps if he wasn't born, then maybe her mother would have had a stable job, and married to a man who will actually take care of her. Maybe if he wasn't born, then maybe she would not have to work herself to the bone, to the point where she could not recognize the person in the mirror. Maybe if he wasn't born, then maybe... she would actually be happy.

But he was born, and there's nothing he could do to change that. But what he can do is become stronger, powerful, to the point of untouchable, so that he and all the people he loves will no longer be resorted to the kind of pain he felt as a kid. And to make Masayoshi Shido, his asshole of a father, pay. The thought of him groveling pathetically while on his knees and at his complete mercy... Akechi smiles at thought.

/./

"You know... you seem a little too young," A man clad in an expensive suit looks over Akechi's resume. He is incredibly smart yes, but he is just a college student.

"I am more than qualified for the job regardless of my age," Akechi confidently answers, and flashed the guy a big smile.

The man seemed to mull it over. While Akechi is young, all they needed was a scapegoat. Currently, news of illegal activities has been circling around their company. The higher-ups needed someone to eventually take the blame, a fall guy, but they put it under the guise of looking for a new secretary.

"Alright, kid."

Little did they know, Akechi knew. And underestimating him was what caused their downfall.

/./

"Boss?" Akechi one day approached his office, with a folder filled with business documents in hand.

"Yes, Akechi-san? I am very busy, so I am going to need for you to make this quick," he was dismissive.

Akechi sighs, "I got a call earlier this morning. I am apparently under investigation?"

"Ah yes. Be sure to be on your best behavior." He looked away from Akechi and focused on the documents he had on the table.

"That's it? That's all you have to say?" Akechi was surprised.

"Hm? What else do you expect me to say?"

Akechi's expression greatly darkened. "Don't play dumb with me, old man. I could just turn you in to the police right now."

"Ha! Don't get cocky, kid. Nobody will believe you."

"That's true, whatever will I do?" Akechi laughed, but it was dry. "I have detailed documents and evidences of the illegal shit you do around here. I also have a few anonymous people that are willing to turn in their testimonies."

"Oh? And you think that's enough? I have more power and influence over you. Just throw some money their way and they will shut up."

"Have you no shame?"

"That is nothing. It is a dog-eat-dog world. The weak are weeded out. I am merely cutting down costs, and allocating more funds for the betterment of the company."

"They were going directly to your pockets."

"Well, I am the head of the company so I think it is well-deserved!" He laughed boisterously.

Akechi brought out his phone, clearly showing their conversation was recorded. "With just the press of a button, I could send this to the police right now."

"You! You wouldn't."

"I won't if you give me what I want."

"And what is that?"

"A bar."

/./

The old man stayed true to his word, and Akechi found himself being the owner of a bar in Kichijoji. After he established himself and his bar gaining enough profit to sustain himself, he decided to take care of the only link he has that could destroy him.

"Are you Goro Akechi?"

"Yes I am," Akechi was seated in front of a certain Sae Nijima. She was a prosecutor who was chasing down his previous boss, but did not have enough evidence to warrant an arrest, much less an investigation.

"I was told that you could help me with one of my cases."

"Jin Fukuhara, my previous boss. I have detailed evidences of his corruption, and how he silenced any employees that go against him. He also has ties to some shady dealings with the yakuza," Akechi handed a portfolio filled with the information, and raised a pouch. "Inside this is a USB device with his confession, and the testimonies of his workers."

"You... this... This could be good for my career!" Sae gawked at the papers in her hand, but then narrowed her eyes at Akechi. "What do you want in exchange for this?"

"Just keep my name out of this, and remove any connections my bar, Jazz Jin, has with him. I will rebrand."

"That..."

"This is good you know? My bar is known to attract customers who may have valuable information that could help you in future cases..."

And so Jazz Jin became The Jazz Bar. Jin Fukuhara was sentenced to prison time. Sae Nijima found herself with an unlikely consultant who did not want to be named in her operations. That's fine, she gets all the credits for her cases so it's a win-win.

/./

"Where are we going, Akira?" Akechi grumbled, feeling perturbed especially since they left you behind.

"We have a client, they want to meet at somewhere near Shibuya." Akira was just as displeased, but they it is not like they can easily turn their backs on their jobs. It would have been even more dangerous if they did.

"What about the bar?"

"I've asked Ryuji and Yusuke to take care of it."

Akechi sighed, resigning himself to the job. "Who's our client?"

"Someone named Kaneshiro."

[ptergwen]

Could you write a fic where Tom is in an interview and talking about the reader as his current gf and also being his first love/childhood love?

woah i wrote kind of a lot like we got DETAILED here 😭 have fun

tom’s love life has been the topic of many conversations over the years. he’s gotten countless questions about who he’s dating and what he looks for in a partner. you’d think the hype would die down at some point, but no. even more rumors have begun to spiral as he promotes cherry.

thank the nosy interviewers for that. they’re taking all their chances to get up close and personal.

“so, let’s talk about love,” an interviewer prompts tom one afternoon. he sits up straighter in his chair, expression serious. “sure, let’s.” “what do you think about it?” she’s being vague so she’ll get the most clickable answers. “do you mean, like, in this film? or just in life?” tom wears a curious smirk now. he glances off to the side, where you’re sat watching.

you’ve been sitting in on his interviews as of late to keep him entertained. as much as the movie means to him, he gets bored of answering the same questions about it. having you there to snicker at his jokes or blow him kisses really livens things up. it’s been that way since you were little. you’re always cheering tom up even if he doesn’t realize he needs any.

“both,” the woman replies, mirroring his cheeky smile. “right, that’s what i thought.” tom clears his throat and raises an eyebrow. “so i’m not mistaken, love in my own life?” “anything you feel like sharing.” she beams into the camera while he nods to himself. you give tom a little smile of approval, which he catches from the corner of his eye. he chuckles at the gesture.

“easy enough. i’ll start with cherry, then,” he decides, getting back into the movie. the interviewer nods for him to go on. “you know, cherry’s always been kind of unlucky in the relationship department.” tom pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts. “until he meets emily, and things are still a bit complicated with her. i’d say it’s the same way for me.”

you jaw drops off camera, tom doing his best to stifle a laugh. he’s the biggest tease to walk this earth. “oh, that can’t be right,” tom’s interviewer insists with a mischievous grin. “you’re one of the most eligible bachelors out there.” “not exactly eligible, actually,” he mutters and twiddles his thumbs in his lap. a smile creeps onto his face.

she doesn’t miss that. “you do have a special someone after all?” tom squints at her through the screen. “after all? who’s been asking?” he jokes, the woman laughing like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “everyone has. the entire world.” you make wide eyes at tom. he’s never given many details about his dating life before, so this is a big step to take.

“well,” he starts, glancing over at you subtly. “yes, i’m a taken man.” “by who?” the interviewer blurts. she’s the first person to get anything out of him. “um,” tom breathes out an awkward laugh. you mouth it’s okay to him, ready to give the people what they’ve been craving.

you’ve had this conversation with tom a couple of times. he’s never wanted to put any pressure on you about going public, so it’s been your call if and when you do. now, you’ve made it.

“my, uh, my best friend. it’s not harrison, for those of you who know him.” tom bites back another smile. you sport one of your own, the tips of his ears turning red. “does this best friend have a name?” the woman questions. he looks to you again for your permission to say it. you think about it for a few seconds, then you give in.

“it’s y/n. you might recognize her,” tom explains, shifting in his chair. “she’s been on my instagram a few times, other stuff like that,” the interviewer makes a mental note to insert his posts of you in the video. “yes, yes. i think i do. you said she’s your best friend?” she clasps her hands. he’s fully blushing now, you giggling quietly at the sight.

“since secondary school, yeah. we met in one of our classes. english, i believe,” tom hums. “i was sitting alone, so she came and sat next to me.” he’s grinning at the fond memory. you feel your face starting to get hot. “how sweet. it seems like you became fast friends,” the woman suggests, throwing more questions out.

“what happened that turned your friendship to a relationship?”

it was when you were two wiser and more experienced adults that you and tom came to understand your connection. there was one moment specifically that turned you from friends to something more, though. tom will share that story with his interviewer, since it seems like she’s into the gossip.

“we didn’t seal the deal until a couple of years ago.” tom breathes out a laugh at what he’s about to say. you’re well aware of it, rolling your eyes playfully. “but, there was a moment when we were kids that i knew i really liked her.” “please, spill,” tom’s interviewer happily requests. he gladly obliges.

“y/n asked me to practice kissing with her because she liked some other bloke.” tom whispers to his camera, “which wasn’t true, by the way. we’ll get to that.” you silently groan and throw your head back on your chair. he shoots you a wink before continuing. “she wanted to go out with him, and said it was a best friend’s job to help her... prepare.”

you press a kiss to your middle finger and stick it up at tom. “precious,” he sarcastically mumbles in response. “what happened next?” the woman reels him back in. tom focuses on the screen again. “right. so, i did some research on how to kiss.” he shakes his head at his former self. “i really should’ve been studying for my A levels or something.”

“when i’m all ready, i invite y/n/n over so we can ‘practice’.” tom makes air quotes around the world, you murmuring, “i hate you,” only for him to hear. “i don’t know what website i used, but it was clearly awful.” he holds a hand up to pretend it’s your face. “i went in, and i just, like, stuck my tongue down her throat. like this.” he’s recreating the moment, you cringing at the vivid image you get.

“oh, no. what did she do?” the interviewer gives tom a pained look. “she nearly vomited, is what she did. ran home right after.” tom puffs air out of his cheeks. you press your lips together in satisfaction. “anyway, we’re reminiscing on it a few years later, and y/n/n tells me something very interesting.” leaning forward, the woman gestures for him to say it.

“i was the bloke she was gonna ask out, but my terrible kissing skills, or lack thereof, scared her off.” he exchanges a knowing look with you. his interviewer gasps. “i was like... are you fucking kidding me?” he only mouths the fucking part even though it’s getting bleeped. that makes you snort. “there’s a turning point, there’s a turning point,” tom reassures everyone.

“i told her i’ve gotten better since then, and we should try again if she wanted.” the interviewer puts a hand on her heart. “did you?” tom lets out a content sigh. “we did, and then we had a long talk about feelings and all that shit.” you make a heart with your fingers for him. he puckers his lips to mime kissing you, without tongue. “we’ve been together ever since.”

“what a lovely story. thank you for sharing that with me,” the woman butters him up more. she gets another idea. “now that you two are official, do we get to meet her?” “you kind of have,” tom retorts, but still checks with you. not expecting anything to come of this, you only shrug.

“i’ve noticed you looking off camera quite a lot. is y/n there?” his interviewer points out, much to both of your surprise. you’ve been at this for weeks, and she’s the only one to say something. “uh, she is,” tom finds himself admitting. he’s a terrible liar, so he almost had to. “tell her to come say hi!” the woman pushes. you look horrified when tom peeks over.

“no, no. i don’t wanna put her on the spot,” he brushes it off. “she’s a bit... camera shy.” “come on, just for a second!” she persists, waving you over like she can see you. this lady is starting to get on your nerves. “you just told me about that steamy kiss of yours. what’s the difference?” tom quirks an eyebrow. “i don’t know if-“

he stops mid sentence when you appear next to him. it’s to shut the interviewer up. although, you might as well reveal yourself before paparazzi do it.

“never mind,” tom grins a toothy grin up at you. “you wanna have a seat, darling?” “happy to,” you hum as he pats his knee. you take your spot on his thigh, an arm slinging around his neck. he wraps his around your middle. the interviewer is so stunned, she’s finally out of things to say. this could quite literally break the internet.

your voice a low whisper, you speak into his ear. “i can’t believe i’m doing this. you should’ve stopped me.” tom squeezes you closer and tilts his head to the side. “what if i didn’t want to?” “my god.” you plant a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving tom’s mouth hanging open.

“there’s your thumbnail.”

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 5

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: arguing with parents, stereotyping?, reader's parents just being generally horrible people, angst

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous → Part 4

Next → Part 6

"This is a horrible idea," you whispered to yourself as you got ready in your bedroom mirror, unable to concentrate for more than five minutes without a small panic attack taking over.

Your eyes flicked over to your clock every few seconds. Keishin was due to arrive at your family house for dinner in about thirty minutes and with every minute that passed, you asked yourself over and over again why you ever agreed to this.

Originally, when your parents had insisted on meeting your 'boyfriend' over a family dinner, your heart had dropped into the pit of your stomach; it was the worst feeling you had ever experienced . . . until you told Keishin about it jokingly and he actually agreed. Never before had you felt so sick to your stomach. Dinner was the last thing you wanted, and to make it worse, it was going to be dinner with your parents and fake boyfriend.

Shit.

More than once you had contemplated pretending to be sick or throwing yourself down the stairs, but you just couldn't go through with it. Every time you got close to backing out, a small part of your brain reminded you that this dinner might be the thing that changed your parents mind, and even though the odds of that actually happening were close to none, you couldn't give up without even trying.

So, with knots in your stomach and your palms sweating like never before, you continued getting ready for the evening and prayed that everything went as smoothly as possible.

If only you had known then that it would take much more than a prayer to save this evening.

When you heard the doorbell ring approximately thirty minutes later, your whole body froze and the thought of jumping out your second story window was starting to sound really appealing. But then, you remembered that it would be way worse if your mom or dad answered the door before you could so you rushed out of your room and down the stairs.

"I've got the door!" you shouted throughout the house, almost as if you were marking the front door as your territory and trying to scare anyone else away from it.

Standing in front of the door, you drew in a few deep, calming breaths before plastering a forced smile across your face and pulling the door open. Let the night of hell begin.

As soon as your eyes settled on Keishin, your smile faltered and you gasped. His dyed blonde hair was slicked back like usual, but instead of a headband, it was clear he had used gel. He had every hole in his ear stuffed with a black earring, and to top things off, he had showed up in jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

"What?" Keishin took a step back and examined his outfit. "You said to go all out. I did."

"I know, I know . . . I just . . ." You took a moment to compose yourself. "I didn't even know you owned a leather jacket."

"Yeah, well, you don't know everything about me," Keishin smirked devilishly, proud that he still had a few secrets to himself. "Well, are you going to let me in? I kind of want to get this dinner over with."

Opening the door wider, you stepped to the side and let Keishin inside your house. "You and me both," you agreed. "You sure you want to do this? We could both make a run for it right now if we act fast."

Shrugging the jacket off of his shoulders, Keishin shook his head. "Come on, at least give your parents a chance to change their minds."

Just then, your father's heavy footsteps could be heard exiting the kitchen and approaching the front door where you and Keishin stood together. Swallowing hard, you wiped the sweat from your palms on your clothes and sent one last pleading thought up to the heavens above, hoping that if there was a great being up there, they could be on your side tonight.

This was it. No turning back now.

"If your boyfriend has arrived, Y/N, please don't keep your mother and I waiting. Introduce us." Your father rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks when he set eyes on Keishin. Sure, you had told your parents all about your 'boyfriend', which was why they had insisted on this dinner in the first place, but Keishin was a man that words couldn't quite capture. "Oh. Hello." Your father reluctantly held out his hand to greet Keishin.

"Hello, sir." Keishin shook your father's hand without hesitation. "I'm Ukai Keishin. Keishin is fine though."

Seconds later, your mother joined the three of you. She had a similar reaction as your father had and was not subtle about it in the least. "So this is the man you've been seeing?" Your mother gave you an almost pleading look, like she was silently begging you to come clean and admit that you were joking.

Right off of the bat, things were not going well.

"Well, let me take your jacket and hang it up in the closet." Your mother stepped toward Keishin with the fakest smile you had ever seen on her face.

"Oh, there's no need." Keishin hung his jacket on the banister of the stairs. "I'll just end up taking it out in a little while anyway when I go out for a smoke. It's easier this way, but thank you."

You watched your mother's eye twitch and the smile she had forced threaten to crack. "You smoke?" You could tell that both of your parents were on the brink of snapping right then and there, but they had promised to actually get to know Keishin, and despite all the horrible things your parents did, breaking promises was not one of them.

"I do." Keishin grinned. "I know, I know, it's not good for me. Y/N tells me to quit all the time so I'm trying."

You let out a nervous chuckle as both your parents turned to face you. "Shall we head into the living room?" You started ushering everyone into the other room, hoping to change the subject as quickly as possible.

"Yes, let's have a seat." Your father nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Keishin, watching him like a hawk. "Can I get you anything to drink, Keishin?"

"Just a water is fine, thanks." Keishin had obviously decided not to push his luck too hard because you had been fully expecting him to ask for a beer.

With that, both your mother and father disappeared into the kitchen; your mother to finish dinner and your father to collect the drinks.

Taking the brief moment of reprieve to breathe, you looked up at Keishin. "I've never seen my parents struggle between their flawless hospitality and kicking someone out of their house so much in my life," you chuckled lightly.

"I'm a bit of a shock." Keishin placed his hand on your lower back and led you toward the couch. "I brought out all the stops in the beginning so they could have the whole night to get used to me."

"How kind of you." You sat down, slightly caught off guard when Keishin sat down right next to you and slung his arm over your shoulders. You were about to ask him what he was doing, but then you remembered that the two of you were supposed to be an actual couple and this is what couples did.

As soon as you felt his touch on you, however, your mind flashed back to that night in the park a few weeks ago. Since then, neither one of you had spoken about what had happened on that bench; a wordless agreement between the two of you that you would just move on and pretend it didn't happen.

But as much as you pretended to forget, you never actually could. The feeling of Keishin's hands on your sides and his warm breath on your lips kept you up at night. As much as you tried not to think of him like that, you just couldn't help yourself.

"You seem really nervous," Keishin leaned closer to you a whispered. "You okay?"

Snapping out of your thoughts, you nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just trying not to freak out is all."

"Hey." Keishin tilted your head toward him so he could look you in your eyes. "You're their daughter. No matter what happens, they will always love you. Remember that."

You flashed a smile. Somehow, Keishin knew exactly what to say to help you relax. "Yeah . . . thanks."

Just then, your father returned with two glasses of water in hand. Handing one each to you and Keishin, you didn't miss the way his gaze settled on the sight of Keishin's arm around you.

"Thank you." Keishin grabbed his glass right away and took a sip. You, on the other hand, let your glass sit on the coaster on the table. Despite how dry your mouth was, you didn't trust your shaky hands to pick up the glass.

"Dinner should be ready soon," your father said as he sat down in his armchair across from you and Keishin. "So, Keishin, tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?"

"Well, currently, I spend most of my time coaching the boys' volleyball team at Karasuno high school," Keishin answered, his eyes lighting up a little when he spoke about the team he coached; you could tell he really enjoyed it. "And my family owns Sakanoshita Market and I work there sometimes."

"Sakanoshita Market," your father repeated. "That sounds familiar."

You rolled your eyes, not surprised in the slightest that your father had forgotten the name of the place you had been working at for the past few months. "That's where I work, Dad," you told him. "That's how Keishin and I met."

"I see." Your father eyed Keishin and you were surprised that Keishin didn't shrink under the cold, hard gaze like you usually did. "So do you go after all the young women who work at your family store or just my daughter?"

"Dad!" you gasped, unsure whether to tell him off or apologize to Keishin on behalf of your father.

"It's okay," Keishin told you calmly before answering your father's question. "Actually, the store hasn't seen a new employee in years. For the longest time, it was just my mother and me. We are both very grateful for all the hard work Y/N puts in to help us with the store. She is a wonderful employee."

You couldn't help the blush that tinted your cheeks at the compliment. "Thanks."

"No need to thank me. It's the truth," Keishin said before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "And good thing you took the job too, or else we would have never met."

Keishin then shot a sparkling grin your father's way, completely blinding him and distracting him from the shocked expression on your face. You knew you told Keishin to act like the two of you were really a couple, but you never expected him to play the part so thoroughly.

Your father opened his mouth to no doubt interrogate Keishin some more, but before he could, your mother began setting the table and announced that dinner was ready.

Moving over to the table, you took a seat across from Keishin while your parents sat at the ends of the table. As your mother brought the dishes of food over, you took the chance to drink some water and parch your dry throat.

The thought of having to keep this awkward conversation up gave you a headache, but thankfully, Keishin seemed to be handling everything quite well. Just as you had expected, he took everything with a grain of salt and refused to let your parents get under his skin.

You wished you were able to do that.

After the four of you bowed your heads and said thank you for the food, you dug in. At first, everyone was too busy eating to say anything. Somehow, the silence was worse than when your dad had been firing off questions rapid fire.

"This is delicious," Keishin was the first to speak. "Thank you again for inviting me for dinner."

"Yes, o-of course," your mother wavered a little but somehow managed to voice her fake pleasure nonetheless. "Y/N has never dated anyone before so we were curious as to what kind of . . . person . . . had caught her eye."

Keishin nodded, letting the not-so-subtle rude comment roll right off his back. "Well, here I am."

"Yes, here you are indeed," your father muttered under his breath. Thankfully, it didn't seem as though Keishin had heard it, but you certainly had. "So, you said you coach high school volleyball. Is this a long-term thing or?"

Keishin thought for a moment before shrugging. "I'm not sure, honestly. I do enjoy it but I've never given much thought as to if I want to do it long-term. I started coaching because of special circumstances and just haven't stopped yet."

"Well, plenty of people coach and teach," your mother said. "You seem to enjoy working with kids, so have you ever considered becoming a teacher?"

"That doesn't sound like the worst job, but that would require me to have a teaching degree, which I don't have," Keishin responded.

"What degree did you get in university?"

Keishin chuckled. "I didn't go to university."

Oh God. Your jaw dropped and you wished that a black hole could just open up underneath you and suck you in. Out of all the things your parents hated most, people who didn't go to university were at the top of the list. They always told you that 'people who didn't go to university had no interest in investing in their future.'

Hence why they always pushed so hard for you to go the university they wanted so you could study what they thought would be best for you.

You watched your mother's face go red as she reached for her glass of wine a take a particularly large sip. "Community college, then?" she squeaked out.

"Nope, afraid not," Keishin answered, completely unashamed and even proud. "I started working for the family store right after high school."

The looks on your parents' faces that they didn't even try to hide filled you with a deep sense of shame. You didn't know how they could be so blatantly rude to someone they barely knew . . . well, actually, you did know, and that was the worst part. As much as you wished you could deny it, you had thought the same things about Keishin when you had first met him.

Hanging your head in shame, you let the suffocating silence of the dining room take over.

Feeling something brush against your leg, you looked up to see Keishin smiling at you from across the table. 'It's okay' he mouthed to you. You thought back to the time Keishin had told you he was a big boy who could take a little verbal ribbing and exhaled through your nose sharply, your mood lifting ever-so-slightly.

Keishin brushed his foot against your leg a few more times to remind you that you weren't alone at this dinner before he attempted to restart the conversation. "So what do you two do for a living?" he asked, looking to your parents.

"We are both lawyers," your father said.

You nodded and sighed. "Hence why they want me to go to law school."

"Oh, honestly, Y/N, you say that like paying for you to go to law school is abuse." Your mother shook her head disapprovingly. "Do you know how many children would kill for the opportunities you have been given and yet you want to throw them away just like that? You should be grateful."

You were about to retort but stopped yourself before you did, knowing that it would only serve to start the same argument that you had lost over and over again. No matter what you said on the matter, your parents refused to try and see things from your perspective.

It never once occurred to them that you might actually not want to be a lawyer.

"Tell me, Keishin, if you had a child who you could pay for to go to law school and they told you they wanted to pursue their dream of playing soccer, what would you do?" Your father turned to Keishin, suddenly interested in what he had to say on the issue.

"Dad, let's not talk about that now," you spoke softly, hoping to get him to change the subject.

"No, no, let's hear what Keishin has to say." Your father insisted.

Keishin thought for a moment before answering. "Well, I think I would just want my child to be happy," he said, his eyes leaving your father to look at you. "I made the mistake of not following my dreams after high school and I regret it every day, so I would tell my child to follow their dreams and try my hardest to be there to support them."

You smiled wide, surprised by how emotional Keishin's words made you feel. For a moment, it was just you and him, and he was saying everything you had ever wanted to hear. All you ever wanted for was someone to be in your corner . . . someone to support you whether your choice was a mistake or not.

"Congratulations, Y/N, you've found a dreamer just like yourself," your father scoffed, breaking you out of your happy trance. "Too bad dreams don't pay the bills."

"Well, when your future is working at a family-run corner store, dreams are all you have," your mother cackled, not even trying to be quiet about it.

Your father laughed as well. "Too true, honey."

"Mom!" you shouted at her, your anger taking over before you even had the chance to think about your actions.

"It's okay," Keishin told you again, reaching across the table for your hand.

You shook your head and tugged your hand out of his reach. "No, it's not okay!" You rose to your feet, finally having had enough. "This dinner was a terrible idea. I cannot believe you!"

"If you've finally come to your senses, darling, we can send Keishin on his way and-" your mother reached for you as well but you shrugged her off.

"I'm not talking about Keishin! I'm talking about the two of you!" You slammed your hands down onto the table, shaking the dishes of food. "The whole night you have been making offhanded remarks and rude comments about Keishin while he has been nothing but the perfect guest. I'm sorry, Keishin, but I can't sit here and let you take their abuse anymore. I've dealt with it my whole life and I won't let them do the same thing to you. You don't deserve that."

"Y/N, you're being a bit dramatic, don't you think?" your father asked, sipping his wine as if nothing was happening, which only made you angrier.

"No, father, I don't think so," you snapped back. "I think that you and Mom are being horrible and I cannot believe that this is how you're acting when meeting someone for the first time. What makes you think that you have the right to treat someone so poorly just because they don't live the same life or have the same ideals as you? You think you know what is best for me but you don't even know me, so how could you?! I would rather work at the corner store for the rest of my life if it meant being genuinely happy over being a snobby, emotionless lawyer any day."

While you vented in front of your parents, Keishin just stared at you wide-eyed, completely floored by how quickly your demeanor had changed from shy and uncomfortable to enraged and animated in mere seconds. The last time he had seen you like this was when you were going off on him and he was grateful your rage wasn't directed at him this time.

Aside from relieved, Keishin felt proud; proud of you for standing your ground.

An embarrassed look flashed across your mother's face. "Y/N, please-"

"No, just don't," you lowered your voice and took a few deep breaths. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that I'm going to put up with your plans for me just so I can have a roof over my head. Mom, Dad, I'm not going to law school. I'm not letting you dictate my life anymore. I'm done."

Stepping away from the table, completely emotionally drained, you looked over your shoulder at Keishin. "Come on, let's go." You waved for him to follow.

Without a word, Keishin stood from the table and followed you to the front door where the two of you grabbed your jackets and got ready to leave.

"If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back!" You heard your father call after you as you left the house, but his threat didn't phase you in the least. If anything, never having to return to that house sounded like bliss right then.

Wrapping your jacket tight around your body to fight the cool evening wind, you sighed. "I'm sorry about that," you told Keishin as he walked silently beside you. "I should never have dragged you into my mess. You don't deserve to be treated the way my parents treated you."

"You don't need to apologize." He wrapped his arm around you once more and held you close, both to comfort you and to keep you warm. "I'm just worried about you. Are you okay?"

You felt tears begin to well in your eyes and frantically wiped them away. "I . . . I don't know," you answered truthfully. "I suppose I should just worry about one thing at a time, and since I've apparently got nowhere to spend the night now . . ."

"You'll spend the night at my place," Keishin stated plainly, not even bothering to ask if you wanted to or not. It was more like an order, but right then, you had nothing against him making decisions for you. As long as the choices weren't made by your parents, you didn't care who they came from.

"Okay," you exhaled. "Thank you."

As the two of you walked through the quiet night in the direction of the store, Keishin pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. Without thinking, you wrapped your arm around his waist and leaned into him, the warmth he radiated bringing you some semblance of peace.

"I'm sorry tonight went so shit," Keishin spoke as he exhaled, smoke spilling from his lips.

"It's not your fault," you told him. "In fact . . . I don't think tonight could have gone any better. In the end, this is how it was always going to turn out. It's better I realize that sooner rather than later."

Keishin stopped and looked down at you. "That's not-"

"It's okay," you said those two magic words this time. "You remember when you told me that no matter what happened they would always love me because I'm their daughter?"

Keishin nodded.

"I wish you could have been right."

[sibsteria]

hallelujah [jack kline]

prompts: ''please, don't stop'', ''I love it when you kiss my neck'', ''you want to have sex with me?''

summary: first time with jack

characters: Jack Kline, (mentioned) Dean Winchester, (mentioned) Sam Winchester, (mentioned) Castiel

warning: smut, fluff, first time awkwardness, tooth rotting reassurance fluff, literal filth

---

The atmosphere was light and solacing, the subtle tenderness of his fingers soothed my restless arms, as they danced across my skin with such delicacy. His hands left tingles, igniting a fire that spread across me, shivers took their toll up and down my body.

I looked up to his angelic face, to be greeted with a toothy grin, as his eyes settled on my relaxed frame. If my heart did stutter as much as it did metaphorically, I'd be six feet under from the day I met him. I lay cradled between his legs, my head against his chest, as my body was positioned on it's side. Feeling the soft inhales and exhales coming from the soft boy below me had lulled me into such a confined sense of security, his warmth enveloping me as I revelled.

The remainder of TFW had business elsewhere, so this left me and my chosen soulmate in the confines of the Men of Letters abode. If soulmates were a thing, Jack and I could be labelled as a prime example. I mindlessly fiddled with the folds of his jacket as we found comfort on the sofa, his hand that was currently grazing my arm had moved up to repeat a stroking movement in my hair. I hummed as the sensation of him running his fingers through my hair was a well-found favourite feeling of mine.

Each time he accidentally tangled his fingers within strands of my hair, creating a soft tug, would create a fiery pit in my stomach.

''Y/n...I need to-'' He paused for a moment, ''-ask you something?'' he had ended his sentence as if it were a question to himself as well, unsure of his words. His words were communicated in a shaky manner and he was biting his lip, he only did that when he was nervous.

I sat myself up and he followed suit, I sensed the seriousness of the situation and reached forward to clasp his hands in mine.

''Are you okay? Is something wrong?'' I let my tone remain calm yet my head was spinning with questions.

''N-No, nothing's wrong, I just-'' He swallows hard, his eyes can't seem to reach mine, so I cup his cheek which is red and warm.

''Whatever it is, you know you can say anything to me, I'm the last person to ever hurt you.'' I turned his jaw, carefully and lightly, so his eyes were looking into mine.

''I was, uh...speaking to Dean last week and he was teaching me about...pornography?'' I almost choked on my own spit, my eyes widened a small amount.

''What did he say? I swear to Chuck if he said anything ba-''

''He said that, everything that went in in those...videos, were fake and that you should only repeat what they were doing with someone you love.'' My heart softened for the elder Winchester, who knew under that tough exterior that he knew the right things after all.

''Did he tell you what it was they were doing?'' I tilted my head as he continued to recite his conversation.

''I had read and learned about intercourse before but, saw no need for the knowledge. Until now.'' I dropped my jaw, no way, he doesn't mean- ''I would like to try it with you.'' He smiles wide and it makes my heart drum like a Metallica canticle.

''You want to have sex with me?'' I couldn't hide the awe and blush of the features of my face that betrayed me. ''Are you sure? No one is pushing you to do this, are they?'' I search his eyes for any uncertainty but find no evidence.

''I'm sure, because I love you, no one has told me to do anything. I really love you.'' The sincerity and sureness in his voice- I could pass out, if people's hearts can shrink from hate then my heart was exploding from love and affection.

''I love you too, Jack, when do you want to-'' I couldn't find the words I was searching for, but he took the hint.

''I-I would like to try now? If that's okay, I don't want to make you do something you don't want to.'' His eyebrows pursed in genuine concern, how could anyone ever say no to him?

''Of course, I would do anything for you- with you, Jack. I'd give my life for you, if the situation desired it.'' I could see the tears glaze over his cerulean stars that guarded his gaze.

''I could never ask you for that, I'd never let you do that.'' He pulled me into his strong cherish, his arms embracing me in a lax yet wistful capture. My heart was crying out to him, craving his everything, beseeching him as a whole. But not in a sexual way, in an amorous pining way.

''I love you more than I have anything, more than I will love anything.'' I voiced, looking into his azure allure as he beamed down at me.

''I love you.'' That was all he needed to declare before I pushed forward, seizing his ductile lips with mine, moving with a fervour that could shake the building. His delighted trill that vibrated against my mouth was a sound worth the world, every nerve in my chassis felt electric, with the passionate epicentre in the deep of my stomach. What were once innocent butterflies, felt like raging hawks in the depths of this tension.

His docile nature is an adverse contrast to the cruelty of most men I have met, the sensation of his padded fingers drifting across my skin as if they belonged there, was dynamizing.

I decided that I would take direction, seeing as I have prior experience. As our lips remained deep into a passionate lock, which could taunt the most enlightened of couples.

I lightly shifted him on to his back, moving his to lie onto the sofa, as I sat in the space in front of himself. I broke our connection to press small and sighted kisses the the outline of his jaw, he breathes out what I guess he was holding, with a small profound noise. I moved my kisses across his jaw until I reach the corner.

''Are we going to?- Y'know-'' I could pin-point his struggle so I decided to answer for him.

''Yeah, are you sure you want this? None of this matters to me as long as I have you.'' I felt his reaction before I heard it.

''Oh-I'm sure, if this is any part of it, I can't wait.'' What did I do to deserve this jewel of a soul.

I lifted my leg to straddle over his lap, almost as if instinct, his hands found the safety of my hips. I felt my eyes becoming heavy with lustful dilation as I inclined my head down to re-animate my lips with his in another searing kiss. We had kissed before, a lot, but nothing could compare to right now.

I seated myself down more, pressing myself against his lap, lighter than air. I didn't want to push him right of the bat.

His careful touch trailed up the side of my back, whilst one hand remained where it lay. His lips moved so fast, it was hard to keep up, I changed my approach. I continued down the road of gentle jaw pecks and moved down towards his neck, which was high in temperature. I added the aspect of pulling his skin through my lips and teeth with pleasurable suction, creating a small purple mark on neck which disappeared a few moments after. This was the first time he let out a fully fledged moan and his hips involuntarily bucked up to press against me. My breath hitched and through impulse I ground down on him harder.

''I love it when you kiss my neck, gah-'' He let out another strangled moan as I returned my focus to his neck, his crotch pushed up once again and connected against mine.

''Oh- can you do that again?'' His voice was hardly there as I felt him getting hard.

I listened to his plea and grinded myself down onto him, this time, I didn't stop. His hand gripped my hip, but he had trouble holding on.

''Here- this might be easier to hold on to.'' I guided his hands down towards the skin below my ass, which connected to my thigh. He grappled onto it and I sucked in air between my teeth, biting on my tongue, although it wasn't pain.

''Sorry! Did I hurt you?'' His frantic apology reminded my that I was the first person teaching him how to copulate.

''N-No, felt good, you can do that as much as you like.'' I edged him on, he nodded and gripped me again, this time moving onto my ass and I lurched my front forward. Burying my head into his neck, I whimpered.

''How did you know to-'' I couldn't answer as he spoke before I could finished,

''I guessed, was that right?'' He had a hopeful look in his eyes which almost made me cry out.

''So, so right. You're doing everything right.'' I moaned against his ear, taking in his ear lobe, nipping at it. His other hand which rested on my back had moved down to cup the other side of my ass, mirroring the other. He pushed my hips down to meet his, impatiently, he really couldn't wait. I can tell already he has an extreme praise kink. I slid my hips across, driving against his cock. He bucks again, fast and sure.

Today was a good day to wear a skirt.

His length was solid and craving release, his lips found my neck, as mine had once found his. He copied what I had done, nipping and sucking at the skin, but this time it would mark. I whined out in frustration.

His hips coiled up faster, stuttering as he came, unexpectedly. Holy motherfucking shit. He called out my name in shattered cries, clasping at any part of me he could. His eyes were screwed as he experienced sexual fulfilment. shut He stopped for a moment after he peaked, I kissed his forehead and his nose as he smiled up at me in awe.

''Was-Was that?'' He searched for the words but couldn't find them.

''You had an orgasm, and I'm guessing your first. I'm also guessing you liked it.'' I heaved an amused exhale, he had no idea how hot he was in this second, he sat up to take his jacket off as I rested on his lap still.

''Did it feel like that for you?'' I could see the wishing in his sky shaded eyes.

''Not yet, but this is about you, we don't need to carry on-'' I stopped my sentence as I felt him grow once again beneath me.

''No refractory interval, huh.'' I whispered to myself in shock.

''In-In the video, the people didn't have clothes on, is that normal. And I didn't put my-'' I stopped him before I could blush any further.

''Uh yeah it's normal don't worry! You just had an orgasm from grinding your- self against me. We haven't had sex yet.'' I brushed the hair from his forehead, which stuck to him because of the cold sweat lacing his skin.

''Can-Can we? Now?'' His hot, pink, cheeks blaring against the sunlight, beautiful as he begged. I couldn't refuse him. His breathing was normal and fluid now, seemingly recovered completely.

''If you really can't wait any longer.'' I cupped his face, kissing him once again, rolling my hips down onto his. He was impossibly hard. I moaned again, slipping my hands under his shirt brushing against his untouched body.

He still remained sat up as I pulled of his shirt, his chest had a small redness across it from the heat, fucking beautiful.

I reached down to grab the hems of my shirt when his hand stopped me.

''Can I?'' Jack's curious eyes bounced between mine and my shirt.

''Go ahead.'' I shuffle back from his lap, still straddling him. His fingers find the end of my shirt and slowly pull it up, revealing my good bra thank the lord- actually no, let's not thank him.

''If it's okay with you, I'll take care of this part, it can be tricky.'' I motion to my black, lacy garment and he mumbles an 'okay'.

I reach behind myself, taking a breath before I unclasp the back, pulling off the straps and letting it fall to the floor. I go to cover myself but Jack restricts me, his head moves in confusion.

''Don't do that, I want to see you.'' His declare makes my head reel.

''I'm sorry that I can't be more than this for you.'' I remove my arms from my chest as he holds my hands.

''Why would you want to be? This is you, and as I once head Dean say-'' I inwardly cringe at his name being used in this situation. ''I think the word breath-taking describes you.'' His still-sitting form moved forward so his head can near towards me, his eyes watch me closely before leaning down. He presses soft and sweet kisses to each bust of my chest, I groan out in pleasure, but not physically. The emotional heaviness of the moment is what makes me cry out, how could one person love another so immensely.

''I love you. And that means all of you.'' I shut my eyes in impassioned heaven.

''I love you too.'' I kissed him before I left the warmth of his lip, he whined before I could speak.

''We need to take the rest of our...clothes off.'' I bit my lip and looked off to the side in blushing attraction.

''O-Oh!'' He seems to excite at this and eagerly unbuttons his jeans, unzipping before ultimately dropping them completely. ''Should I take my underwear off also?'' He questions me. His briefs are soaked from his previous settlement and I long to wonder what it would feel like to have him in my mouth, that would have to wait.

''If you'd allow me-'' I step towards him, slowly reaching for his clothed crotch, he nods in affirmation. I hook my fingers around the sides of his briefs, kissing his shoulder and chest as I start to pull them off. He kicks them from himself once they reach a certain point and points towards my skirt.

''Can I take it off?'' I nod and smile at him.

''You can do anything you want, anything.'' I say, a sincere and truthful confession.

He kneels below me, looking up with an innocent yet ruined look in his eyes. Pressing small kisses to my stomach and thighs as he pulls down my skirt along with my underwear in one swift action. I didn't feel a need to be nervous with him anymore, letting my body do the talking instead of words I led him back towards the couch, which up until this point remained un-christened. That was about to change.

''In the video, the man puts his mouth on her...lower area.'' He whispers in thought as he sat on the couch.

''That's not important right now, we can explore that later. Right now, I just want you to feel the peak of physical affection.'' He gives me one of his toothy smiles again and I can't help but stare at him with adoration in my eyes before we resume the position we were previously in.

I straddled him with no effort and took his impressive length in my hand. He gripped the couch and moaned lowly as I worked him up and down a few times, spreading the leaking pre-cum.

''You ready?'' I lean down, kissing his nose, fondly.

''Yes, really ready.'' He breathes out, I prod my entrance with the tip of him, sliding it in slightly.

He let out fast paced breathy groans as I slid down onto his firm cock. I'm in no way a virgin, but it's been a while.

He moves his hands my my waist, his nails dig into me, I moan.

''I'm not hurti-'' I answer him before he could finish.

''Definitely not hurting me.'' I sigh in pleasure, down his ear as I hunch over.

''I'm gonna move now.'' I mumble, he doesn't know what's coming to him.

I lift up my hips until I reach the tip of his cock before lightly slamming back down, his hands slide down to clutch the skin on the side of my thighs.

''Do-Do that again.'' He groans.

''I'll do more than that.'' There was no need to hold back, I slid myself up again and repeated the motion, setting a steady momentum. His hips snapped up to meet mine as I bounced with no shame.

''Oh, please, don't stop.'' He rushed out, trying to set a faster pace as he snaps up with impatience.

''Jack, you wanna- try being in- control?'' I attempt to communicate through breathy laments.

''Yes, please.'' I stop sinking my hips for a moment whilst I slowly try to transfer my body weight to beneath him. He gets the gist and helps to flip us over, carefully.

''Don't hold back, you don't need to be gentle.'' I brush a hand through his hair so it's out of his face before an unexpected thrust knocks the air out of me. He doesn't waste time, pushing himself to the brink of speed, I struggle to find somewhere to anchor my hands and I settle for one against his shoulder blade and the other in his hair.

With the relentless pounding and merciless fucking of his hips, I felt blissful thrill that I had never felt before, I couldn't help the tug of his hair that pulls between my fingers. He wails out, I panic and try to apologise.

''Sorry, fuck! Did that hur-'' He snaps into me with more meaning than ever, it's ruthless and hot.

''Do it again.'' He begs into my ear, his voice wavering. I do as he says and pull against his hair, he whines, biting down into my neck.

''Fuck, Jack!'' I cry as his pelvic bone creates intoxicating friction against my swollen clit, he's balls deep and no where near stopping.

''Are you sure you haven't done this before?'' I grip at the skin on his shoulder blade and he grouses in pleasure.

''Never, you're the only person I'd ever do this with, I love you.'' He grunts our as his cock remains a punishing and brutal pace. The sound of his voice saying 'I love you' in such an intimate moment makes me orgasm on the spot, I came hard and with a recoil I stutter my hips to try and match his, failing at the objective. I moan out his name as I grip onto his hair, the hardest I have.

''Jack!'' He pounds impossibly faster as my walls clench around him, begging him to let go, and he does. With a chorus of strangled moans, and stammered whines, he came. He gives a few more ruts before collapsing his head against my chest, leaving kisses up my neck.

I feel my body give up, refusing to move, refusing to breathe.

''O-oh, wo-wow. Woah.'' Jack grins with astonishment.

''I know, Jack. That was- especially with you- and-'' I give up on words.

''I want to do that all the time.'' He let out a throaty laugh, but I knew he was completely serious.

''We can, maybe not all the time but- when it doesn't inconvenience the others.'' It rings in my head for a moment before I realise.

''Shit! The guys will be back soon, grab your clothes.'' I usher him to hurry up and I grab mine as well, stammering along to my room with whatever working muscles I had left. As soon as I shut my door, I felt the front one open. Close call.

I breathe out in relief.

''What the fuck?'' I hear from outside.

''Uh, Y/n?'' I looked towards a blushing Jack. ''I forgot to pick something up.'' He drops his clothing and I realise we are missing his briefs. Oh, fuck.

''What the fuck is this?'' Ah yes, that would be your adopted sons cum-stained underwear, Dean.

[willwriteforhugs]

in vino veritas- song mingi (part two)

bestfriend! mingi x reader- part two of two !

~childhood friends to lovers au~

word count: 2.1k

genre: angst, fluff

synopsis: after your lifelong best-friend confesses his love for you, the two of you have to deal with the emotional (and very embarrassing) repercussions.

warnings: drunkenness, a minor hangover

if you haven’t read part one, please do so! find it here :)

a/n: HUGE apologies about how long this conclusion took! i took a *long* break from writing right after i said i’d write this... *face palm* but i still had a couple of people who really wanted to see this, and i’m hoping they still do! (or did they give up on me...?) anyways, thank you so much for the continued support, even while i was absent. happy reading, and i hope your heart doesn’t break in two<3

- allison

- - -

“please. please love me again.”

the words are like a smack to the face. they sting, the same way a slap does- and for a moment you can’t breathe. in that moment, you wish he had just hit you, because it would feel nearly the same. but you know mingi more than you know yourself, and he hasn’t hit you since you were children. he never would. 

mingi looks down at you, his face contorted in what you assume is a sort of drunken sadness. finally, you form a coherent thought.

no, no, no. you just can’t do this.

your hands are trembling, you notice. you slowly take your hand from him, backtracking a few steps until your back is against the wall. he doesn’t fight it, and he doesn’t break eye contact once.

“love me again...”

you never thought you’d hear those words come out of his mouth. no. how could he do this? reject you as a lovestruck high schooler without a second thought, but then pull this four years later? it’s sick. it’s sick because you were heartbroken. because you still are.

it’s sick because despite every ounce of your body wanting to reject him, to push him away- there is a small part of you that wants to say yes. to say yes, yes, yes, i will love you again, and it will be so easy, because i never stopped. 

“y/n-ah.” 

mingi’s voice sounds husky- the way it sounds right after he wakes up, or when he eats something particularly bitter.

it’s also how his voice sounds when he’s terribly, terribly sad, and you wish you didn’t know these things about him. 

“y/n, listen to me.” his eyes bore into yours, and he begins to stutter again. “i was an idiot, saying the things i did. i know- i know i felt that way at the time, but- but dear god, if i’d known what i was going to lose? i just..”

“mingi.” to your own surprise, your voice is a stark contrast to his- it’s clear and sharp. decisive. “i need you to stop.”

your counterpart cringes.

“listen,” you plow on. “you. are. drunk. you do not understand what you are saying, but understand this- you’ve upset me.”

finally, your voice breaks a little. “you broke my heart, mingi, and i haven’t forgotten. but i don’t want to remember. so here’s what we are going to do- i am going to go to bed, in my room, and i am going to be alone. somehow i still have an obligation to help you, so you will sleep right here, on this couch. tomorrow morning you will take an advil, call a car, and leave my home. understood?”

you see mingi’s eyes begin to water, and the crack in your chest seems to expand. 

“don’t.” you whisper. “don’t do this to me.”

mingi looks down at the floor for a moment, and finally, having decided to remain quiet, sinks onto the sofa. you turn to leave the room, but as you leave, he calls out again;

“i’m sorry, y/n.”

you just manage to get your bedroom door shut before the sobs start. 

- - - 

you wish you could stay in the dark forever.

the light streaming through your windows is just so invasive...

but maybe the real reason you don’t wish to get up is the man currently sprawled across your living room couch.

god, what even happened last night? will he even remember the things he said?

a part of you- well, most of you- hopes he doesn’t. that would surely simplify things. but even so, you also kind of hope he does remember.

you want to know if he meant it. 

- - -

finally, you sit up in bed, stretching your arms out. when you manage to stand up as well, you beeline for the bathroom.

a quick glance in the mirror confirms your previous suspicions- your face is puffy, from all of the crying. 

good god, the crying...

you know he could hear you, and you are humiliated. not that you think of crying as a bad thing, not inherently- but you have almost never cried in front of mingi, and to think you did last night. and that it was because of him...

you shove your insecurities aside and wash your face. you throw on a simple outfit, and finally you come to stare at your door.

sighing, you open it as quietly as you can. maybe he’ll still be asleep, and you can slip out unnoticed? 

but no such luck. mingi is sitting on the couch, his feet propped up. he doesn’t hold a phone, and the tv isn’t on. not a book in sight- he’s just staring up at the ceiling. 

you close your eyes as they begin to sting.

you can’t believe the effect he’s had on you all these years- and that you’d managed to ignore it for so long. but you can’t ignore it anymore, not with it being the main cause of your pain the past day.

biting your tongue, you step into view. mingi immediately notices you, and shoots into a more presentable position.

“y/n-ah.”

you pause to meet his eyes. “i thought i’d told you to leave.”

mingi frowns slightly. “and i thought i’d elect to ignore that part of our conversation.”

so he does remember.

shit.

“are you hungover?” you ask.

“only a bit.” he responds stiffly.

you heave a sigh, and the two of you look at each other for a moment, the air stuffy and thick with tension.

you break the silence with a strained whisper. “are we gonna do this?”

mingi doesn’t hesitate to respond, though his voice is no louder than yours was.  “i think we have to.”

you frown, knowing he’s right.

but it hurts, and you wish more than anything it was an ache you could ignore. but your heart has been slowly dying for years now- a fact that you are now painfully aware of.

is it too late to fix it?

before you can say anything more, mingi continues to talk.

“first of all, y/n- i just. i’m so sorry. for coming here last night. i was drunk and i was sad and i didn’t know where else to go.”

“why didn’t you just go home?” you can’t help but sound slightly bitter.

“do you believe me when i say i didn't even think to? all i knew is that i wanted to see you.”

you inhale sharply, and years of sadness burn the back of your eyes. “mingi, i don’t care that you came here in the first place. but i care about the havoc you wreaked when you did.” you stumble over your words. “you- you said you loved me.”

his face is filled with some sort of resignment, but he keeps his eyes on you. “i know i did.”

“why?”

“because i do.”

heat claws its way up your neck, and you feel the first of the tears begin to flow. “no. you can’t- please, mingi, you can’t just come in here and say that. not after- not after what you did to me.”

mingi bites his lip hard, now looking at the floor. his eyes are wet. “i know that.” his voice sounds pained. “i know that, y/n. that’s why i never intended on telling you... apparently the beer had other plans.”

“what do you mean, ‘never intended’?” you snap. “you mean to say you’ve been in love with me for- for what, a time- even after you told me it would never happen?”

“i was young, y/n! i still am young, but god- i was 16! i didn’t even know what love was! and if you had ever asked me in these recent years-” his voice cracks, and his face displays years of cleverly disguised pain. “if you’d asked me what my biggest regret was, i would have said you. i would have said turning down the love of my life because i was a pubescent idiot.”

even through the tears, you manage to snort at this. 

after a moment, mingi manages a half-hearted smile. “so, uh- are you still trying to kick me out?”

“not really.” you mumble. “but that doesn’t mean i’m happy with you.”

when he doesn’t say anything, you force yourself to continue, even through the tears. “i’m just surprised. you know- do you remember what you told me? you told me that it was just a crush, so you were letting me down easy. but- mingi-ah, it was never just a crush... i loved you, i really did.”

mingi lets a small sigh escape his mouth, and moves to stand in front of you. he gently brushes your hand with his- an invitation. and against your better will, you reach out and take it.

“do you think,” he whispers. “do you think you still could?”

another fat teardrop rolls down your cheek. “that sounds a lot like what you said last night, and you were really drunk.” you whisper back.

“i’m not drunk.” mingi murmurs. “drunk in love, maybe.”

“you’re an idiot.”

“obviously.”

“and i hate you.”

“mmhmm.”

“please kiss me.”

and he does.

his lips crash against yours, and you actually give a small yelp of surprise. but the surprise is overwhelmed by the instant rush of emotion you feel- mingi kisses you with an intensity you’ve never experienced. like at any moment he might lose you, like there really is no tomorrow.

he parts his lips along with yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. you actually feel your knees weaken a bit- but the moment passes, and he moves away from your mouth. he leans downwards and places slow, deliberate kisses along your neck. your hands are tangled in his hair, and his are on your hips. and then it hits you- you are kissing song mingi- the boy whom you vowed to never touch, the boy you always knew you wanted. 

the kiss is a kiss of passion- of regret, of betrayal, of bitterness and of love. it is unlike anything you’ve known. it’s fully fueled by the destroyed hearts of two people who love each other too much.

you never want it to end.

the kiss is everything and nothing, beautiful and painful. it’s all that mingi has ever been.

suddenly, mingi pulls away from you, ending the kiss abruptly. you jerk back in surprise, face burning. had you done something wrong? what the hell were you thinking? you two should be at each other’s throats-

mingi interrupts your thoughts as he grasps your hand in his, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. “are you alright?” he murmurs.

you glance up, having nearly forgotten that you were in literal tears only minutes before. “yeah, i’m- i’m okay. are you?” on the inside, you wonder. why did he stop? what are we doing? is this okay?

“honestly? i don’t know.”

your brief high falters.

“y/n.” his voice is serious again. “please, y/n. is this really what you want?”

he’s worried that i’m just doing this to fix things.

“mingi.” you force him to meet your eyes. the room is dead silent, and your voice is a little raspy, but it needs to be said. you need to say it, you just do.  “i love you.”

the moment washes over the room like a cool breeze. mingi’s eyes soften to a look of love and concern, and a small smile quirks at his lips. “what? you mean it?”

a moment ago, you were actually scared that you wouldn’t- but now that it was said...

“yes. stars, yes. i love you- i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, but i think i was so scared of that love- and of yours- that i shoved it away. but i do, and i’m sure i always will.”

“i love you too.” he manages. “and maybe i didn’t mean to get drunk and say all the things i did, but- but i don’t think i regret it. because i love you, and want to take back everything i said all those years ago. cause i loved you then, too, i just didn’t know it. i hurt you, and that almost ruined this for us. so will you help me make it up to you?”

“how?” you murmur, a feeling of nervous anticipation washing over you.

“let me kiss you a little longer.”

you smile, knowing that even though things aren’t totally fixed yet- and the two of you have a long way to go- you still have gotten him back. mingi. your best friend. your love. your life.

“gladly.”

[lazarettta]

Misthios VI

Pairing (Spartan! Reader x Mother Miranda)

Word Count (1.4k)

Rating (T)

“Yeah, life was more intense before the world became so modern and technology dependent. It was simpler back then...but it wasn't always so great.”

“But you were a mercenary, right?” Daniela asked, staring up at you wide bright eyes and too morbidly fascinated with the conversations current topic but you figured out a while ago that these women weren't at all human, looking like one didn't count in your books, and that they were not saints, “A Misthios? Did you ever lose a fight?”

“Oh yeah, lost a couple,” you laughed, glancing at Alcina for a moment but like her daughters she was listening raptly to your stories though she was far more regal and less obvious about her own curiosity than her daughters were. “Most of those were when I was younger and for a merchant to kill a kid was just bad for business, so I usually got a good beating and yelled at before I was let go.”

“That's...” Daniela made a face, not impressed, “Lame.”

You chuckled, shrugging because she wasn't wrong, “It was, but when you're hungry...you take risks like that, had too.”

“So...how did you end up surviving the streets if you were caught and beaten all the time?” Cassandra asked, speaking for the first time in a few hours or so—being the most reluctant to fully interact with you but even she couldn't deny that it was nice to talk to another immortal that wasn't in the village. Not that the other Lord's really talked to them anyway.

“I said I was beaten, never said I gave up. Taking odd jobs all the time for drachmae teaches you things...I used those skills to survive and eventually I was making a name for myself—and then the villagers just came looking for me with their monies. Help me this, help me that...I had to learn a hard lesson that not everything could be solved with words, y'know?”

On the other side of the door, Miranda stood and listened as your voice carried over the roar of the fire as you answered any of the questions the Dimitrescu daughters asked while their mother remained steadfast and quiet in her chair closer to the fire. Miranda had been standing outside of the study for close to an hour now, just listening to you reminisce and never shying away from a question and more than once Miranda caught herself smiling behind her mask every now and then. She too remembered a few of those stories, ones that you've told her plenty of times...others she has experienced right by your side.

It stung a bit when you omitted her from those particular stories, how flawlessly you did so really—Miranda hated it, really. She hated how persistent part of her thoughts were, reminding her that she could've had this with you with children of your own shared between the both of you. And more than once did that vision lay itself out for Miranda—for her to have everything she's ever let slip between her fingers. Those pesky intrusive thoughts weren't new but harder to shake off now that she physically had you...but could she keep you?

~~

You were in the middle of telling the story about being hunted by a albino bear when you saw Alcina tense up from the corner of your eye before the Lady of the castle was rising to her feet and that was the only warning you received before the double doors were opened and Miranda walked in, wearing her robes sans her gold encrusted ravens mask. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun but there were a few strands loose in the back. You hadn't even realized you were also on your feet until Miranda stopped a few inches away from you, closer than you expected and it amused her to make you squirm a little.

“Hello again.”

“Hi.”

Miranda held your gaze a little longer, hers eyes flickered around your face as if trying to commit it to memory before she turned to the Countess, “Lady Dimitrescu.”

“Mother Miranda.” Alcina nodded, her eyes flickering to yours momentarily before she addressed her daughters who were watching everything and everyone closely, “Alright girls, story time is over. Go finish your tasks for the day.”

You weren't surprised by the complaints and grumbling from the three daughters but you weren't surprised when they didn't outright protest—Alcina didn't seem the type to put up with backtalk, especially not from them. However, when Alcina herself stepped out of the room, you were surprised not expecting to be alone with Miranda this soon. You weren't sure if you were ready to do this with her yet, but time hasn't always been your friend lately, has it?

Once the doors soundly clicked shut, emphasizing that you were both alone, you had no idea what you should be doing. You rubbed the back of your neck, a nervous tick that you've carried with you since you were a teenager, “Ah, there's still some tea left, do you want any?”

Miranda glanced at the tea tray sitting on the coffee table, shaking her head, “I prefer coffee.”

“I don't think this castle knows what a coffee maker is, to be honest.”

Miranda shared your small smile, hoping to put you at ease for what she was about to say next, “No, but my house does.” Miranda's smile grew a little when your shoulders tensed beneath her heavy stare.

“Oh, you took care of that problem already?”

“It took care of itself, really.” Miranda shrugged, shifting her wings slightly catching your attention and this time it was Miranda's turn to tense, but whatever she was going to say next was caught in her throat when one of your hands came up to her shoulder, at the bend of her wing.

“They've grown,” you murmured quietly as you have a better look at them, you saw the night before but you were distracted. But you couldn't bring yourself to actually touch her—you didn't have that right anymore, and you wanted to slap yourself for forgetting that. You cleared your throat, shoving both of your hands in your pants pockets and took a step back—but Miranda followed you, causing you both to freeze. Her expression mirrored the surprise you felt to some degree and you knew that she didn't mean to do that and it furthered convinced you that it wouldn't be a good idea for you both to be completelyalone.

“I think it would be best if we talked here.”

“No.”

“Why not? We're already here and alone—”

Miranda sighed heavily, her eyes narrowing slightly, “Because I'd rather have this conversation in the privacy of my own home than someone else's. Preferably not where it echoes either, or have you gotten quieter when you're upset, hm? Do you want the entire village to know our business?”

Eyes downcast you licked your lips and you didn't see Miranda's glare waver, but she had a point—there were things you'd rather not have overheard. You exhaled heavily, get your shit together (Y/n)! “You're not carrying me.”

Miranda's grin was predatory and smug, “It'll be quicker. I won't drop you, I promise.”

“The last time you made me a promise, you ripped my heart out. Do you remember that?”

“(Y/n)...”

“I gave you everything, Miranda! And you threw it back in my face by marrying some bastard Prince behind my back?! I was fucking humiliated and broken because of you! So, no...keep your promises, Miranda. And no, you are notcarrying me.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them but you couldn't find it in yourself regret them—the relief of getting them off your chest felt too good. You weren't sure were that flash of emotion came from as you'd been relatively good at keeping your cool but Miranda had always made you emotionally charged whether you wanted to be or not—both good and bad. And right now old memories were resurfacing and old feelings were warring against the new ones.

“There's so much you didn't know, (Y/n)! I—”

A tray was dropped down the hallway outside of the study startling both of you and reminding Miranda where she was.

“...right,” Miranda clasped her hands together in front of her to keep from fidgeting with her rings, “I'll speak to Alcina and see about you procuring one of her horses for a few days.”

You didn't verbally respond and you watched Miranda cross the room back to the door. She paused at the door, poised to turn as if she wanted to tell you something but after a second or two, you were alone. You sat down on the edge of the coffee table, combing one hand through your hair, “Fuck...what am I doing?”

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 12: What Happens in Alleyways

From the Beginning,  Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Sorry it's a lil short, it's more of a transition chapter to actually jumping into this case and Reader's now even more confusing "relationship" with Hotch. Things get kinkier and angrier and more explicit from here, but I'll do my best to tag stuff. Thanks for your patience as always, guys, especially amidst the dumpster fire that is current events right now <3 Your reblogs and tags slay me and I love it.

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary: Turns out, the world doesn't stop on its axis just because you had sex with your boss. You’re unsure whether or not that’s a good thing.

Words: 1,882

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Violence, dark themes, explicit sexual content. More specific warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You awoke to the dim light of the dawn, rain gently pattering on the windows, and the blaring sound of Hotch’s ringtone three feet from your face.

“Jesus christ, old man,” you groaned, blinking your eyes open, “turn your hearing aids up.”

Already sitting up in bed, he paused with the phone halfway to his ear.

Shit. You were being too casual - waking up in his bed, joking with him. Acting like you belonged there. You didn’t know how he felt about what happened, for all you knew he regretted every second and-

“You’re paying for that later,” he smiled before answering the call.

The playful threat filled you with relief before it made your stomach flip, and the memories of last night came flooding back. His body, his eyes, his hands all burned inside your eyelids as if you’d been staring directly at the sun. You’d never been in this situation before - waking up next to someone you’d spent the night with and desperately hoping it was the first time rather than the last. But you’d also never felt your body sing with the white-hot pleasure it did when it was touched by the seemingly unattainable man who did so last night, so. There was that.

The low rumble of his voice brought you back to the present, and you looked up at his face to find it was twisted up in concentration, resignation, and something else.

“I’ll be right down,” he said, standing up swiftly and pulling his work clothes on with practiced speed. “Don’t let anyone touch anything.”

He shoved his phone in his suit pocket and looked at you, still tangled up in his sheets.

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs,” he said, terse. “There’s a body in the alley outside the building.”

“Outside this building?”

“Yes,” he responded, “and there’s a note.”

As he swept out the door, leaving you reeling, you realized what the other expression on his face was. Fear.

***

Hotch had gotten ready and exited the apartment before you had even processed the situation, and your mind was racing a mile a minute as you flung yourself out of bed and scrambled to get dressed. The logical assumption, of course, was that the stalker had left the body. People didn’t just end up dead in alleyways in this part of town, and certainly not in the middle of a rainstorm mere floors from where the BAU Unit Chief slept - not without a reason.

You threw on your coat and boots, forgoing contacts and makeup in favor of your glasses and a hat to cover the tangled mess last night’s tryst had made of your hair. Without even pausing to look in a mirror, you scurried down the stairwell and exited the lobby into the cold October wind.

It was easy to tell which alley the body occupied - there were an excess of thirty people milling in and out of the space to the right of the building. Crime scene investigators, policemen, and other personnel talked in hushed voices. You spotted a clearing in the sea of people and knew that’s where the victim would be, given a wide berth per Hotch’s instruction.

The team hung out at the edge of the circle watching Reid, who was kneeling in front of the body slumped against the side of the apartment building. Moving closer, you could tell he was in the middle of one of his spiels, gesturing wildly while the everyone nodded along. You joined the group that had formed around him and caught the middle of what seemed to be a hypothesis about victimology.

“ -no patterns, obviously, but if we assume similar characteristics would be present in all his victims, it’s hard to discern what statement he could be making. Positing a male in his mid-to-late twenties is statistically most likely, but stalkers of this age group also frequently have some sort of sexual motivation, and if the autopsy is consistent with what we can observe now,” he gestured to the body, “I don’t think that’s the case here.”

Throughout his speech, you’d been scrutinizing the victim - a brunette women who looked to be no older than 20, arranged in a half-sitting position against the wall behind her. There was no blood anywhere you could see, in fact, she barely looked dead at all, likely thanks to the below-freezing temperatures last night that had put a pause on the early stages of decomposition. Pinned to her shirt was a white envelope that bore an ominous message in bold, black ink:

“For my friends at the BAU.”

Not hard to guess who had killed this woman.

“Can you determine cause of death, Spence?” Prentiss asked, her arms folded.

“I’m not sure, but if I had to guess…” he used his pen to push the victim’s hair to the side, exposing a neck mottled with stark blue bruises. 

“Anger, then,” you offered, speaking to the psychological drivers behind strangulation, “but I doubt we’ll find any sign of sexual assault. The unsub made it clear that his disdain is directed towards us; it’s not likely that would extend to his victim.”

The rest of the team nodded in thought, but Hotch looked at you in surprise, as if just noticing your presence. As his eyes glued on yours, his face changed, and he grabbed your arm in an unpleasantly tight grip.

“Open the note. I’ll just be a moment.”

Unaware of his boss’ sudden change in demeanor and the vice on your elbow, Morgan gloved up and reached for the envelope. Hotch, meanwhile, unceremoniously dragged you down the alleyway and around to the deserted back side of the building.

“What the hell?” you hissed, yanking your arm out of his grip.

“Did you fail to look in a mirror before you came down here?” Hotch’s narrowed stare betrayed nothing but contempt, and you scrambled to determine the implication of his question.

“I’m sorry, did you want me to take a shower before looking at the dead body? I did the best I could, it seemed urgent -”

“No,” he snapped, “I’m referring to the fact that your neck looks worse off than our victim’s does.”

You processed his words for a moment before the implication hit you.

“Are you talking about the hickies?! Christ, Hotch, I’ll get a scarf then. Just give me a second!”

“Please do. I’d like my agents to appear professional, not like they’re college kids coming off a one night stand.”

His words halted your stomp back into the building, and you turned back, furious.

“You put them there! How is this my fault?”

“I didn’t think I would have to be this explicit about the fact that I don’t want the fact that we had sex last night broadcast to everyone at the crime scene.”

You gaped at him in disbelief.

“Are you embarrassed or something? I’m sorry if you regret what happened, but you don’t need to lash out at me like this -”

“I’m not lashing out,” he interrupted, “I’m informing you of my expectations for my agents. Is there a problem?”

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to smack that perfectly raised eyebrow and controlled expression right off his face. But he was boxing you in - speaking to you as your boss and not the man you slept with last night, and as much as you hated him for it, your sense of self-preservation won out.

“There’s no problem,” you mumbled, unable to make eye contact as you slipped past him and around the building.

You made it halfway up the stairwell before the tears started flowing. Had you really thought sleeping with him was going to change something? That he was going to ask you to be his fucking girlfriend, like he wasn’t the chief of your unit and you weren’t a twenty-something intern? For all you knew, he did this all the time. His level of skill in the area certainly made it seem like he did.

That wasn’t true, though, you knew it. He may not reveal much, but you could tell it had been a fraught decision to let your relationship develop the way it had. Perhaps even a decision he regretted now - and it certainly seemed so, given his behavior.

Wiping tears on your sleeve, you fumbled with the spare key he’d given you to his apartment and walked in. You glanced in the mirror by the entrance and your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. Hotch wasn’t exaggerating when he likened the marks to strangulation - indigo smudges, still peppered with the angry red of burst capillaries, circled your throat.

It was a juvenile, possessive, ridiculous display, and Hotch was absolutely right to label it unprofessional. And yet, the thought that you’d walked onto the scene bearing the marks he’d given you filled you with a thrill so intense you had to brace yourself against the entryway table and clamp your legs together.

Breathe. There’s still a fucking murder scene downstairs.

You steadied yourself and headed for your duffel bag, where you’d thankfully packed a scarf in preparation for the cold snap that was predicted to hit the state this week. Midway through unzipping your bag, though, your eyes landed on his dresser and the devil sitting on your shoulder, buzzing with a deadly combination of anger and arousal, whispered a terrible, reckless idea in your ear.

***

You practically skipped downstairs to rejoin the team, who appeared to be engaged in a lively debate about the contents of the envelope Morgan was holding. After gloving up, you reached out a hand towards him.

“Can I read it?”

He handed it over, distracted by another stream of consciousness from Reid. Hotch took note of your return and glanced in your direction before turning back to the conversation.

You pretended to read the note and waited for him to notice.

You waited all of three seconds.

He whipped his head back so comically fast you struggled to suppress a snort, and you knew exactly what he was looking at. A midnight blue cashmere scarf, nicked from his dresser and wrapped artfully around your neck to cover the bruises, just like he’d asked. The first compliment you’d ever paid him was in regards to this scarf; tentatively whispered when he’d worn it to a chilly 2 am crime scene. He’d accepted the compliment passively, but the optimistic part of you had noted that he seemed to wear it much more frequently after that.

You weren’t entirely sure what statement you were intending to make by wearing it, but his reaction told you you’d certainly succeeded at provoking something.

Morgan reached back out for the note you were still pretending to read and dropped it in an evidence bag. If he noticed Hotch steaming from the ears next to you, he didn’t say so.

“They’re ready to pack everything up and head back to the lab. Let’s meet ‘em there?”

Everyone nodded in the affirmative and headed back to the SUVs.

“You riding with me?” Morgan asked, nudging your ribs with an elbow.

“No,” Hotch answered for you, an unseen hand suddenly gripping the back of your neck. “She’s not.”

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[giantsreach]

part of having written carver since like. 2013/14 is that i can never remember which topics i’ve posted meta on but i’m pretty sure i haven’t discussed his banter with fenris in-depth on this blog yet.

i think something that rubs me the wrong way about the way carver and fenris often interact in fan work is that there tends to be an underlying and fundamental misunderstanding about why carver approaches fenris in the manner he does. i’ve seen a lot of carver talking out of his ass to fenris for no reason other than a ) he thinks he knows better, and/or b ) his overly critical eye wants to fault-find. + he’s annoying or smth to that effect. 🙄

these interpretations tend to neglect the actual driving force behind carver interacting with fenris in the first place, and that’s that carver has had little exposure to other warriors. apart from his time in king cailin’s army, he was peerless ( literally ) in his field, and only interacted with his fellow swordspeople when they passed through town via the imperial highway. 

now, there is aveline, of course, but the writing makes it clear that aveline takes on the role of yet another older sibling ( or family of a similar, authoritative position ) in his life, and as such, doesn’t quite qualify as a peer in the traditional sense.

this likely isn’t the most flattering way of phrasing it, but carver wants friends. people who he can relate to, who share his interests and background, who find him as compelling as he finds them. carver may seem prickly or sullen in act i ( and he certainly is at times ), but he’s also experiencing two-prongs of isolation:

     1 ) cultural, as a fereldan refugee in a city-state that doesn’t try to hide its hatred of foreign asylum-seekers, and      2 ) mundane, as a displaced young man who has never quite fit in at home nor in any village they've settled in, and who has recently lost the family member closest to him, and who watches his surviving sibling pick up new companions left and right as if it’s not at all difficult.

cut to fenris, who is a consummate swordsman. and while carver is initially on edge because he's under the impression fenris could pose a threat to hawke, once the tension is dispelled, he's far from opposed to fenris's presence. if anything, carver is eager for his approval. fenris is, aside from aveline, the only warrior carver gets to spend any considerable amount of time with, and he's singular in his skill and ability. it's plain to see why someone like carver, starved for peers, would want to establish some kind of rapport with someone as exemplary as fenris.

the problem is, naturally, that carver — nineteen and having never learned to read socialize properly, due in equal parts to growing up sheltered as well as having poor self-confidence — cannot stop himself from saying shit that is so mind-blowingly stupid, that it is a wonder fenris was as forbearing as he was. i'm talking about:

Carver: So... this master of yours wants your markings back? Skin and all? Fenris: So his hunters told me. Unwillingly. Carver: So why not cover them up? Wouldn't that make you harder to find? Fenris: Let them come. I am not one to hide. Carver: Still, if it were me— Fenris: It's not. ─────── Carver: So you've really never thought of hiding from those hunters? Fenris: To what end? Carver: So you could, I don't know, have a life? Fenris: What life do you have? There are no hunters after you at all.

i feel like it should be obvious why these banters are in bad taste, so i won’t go into detail to lambaste carver over his blatant ignorance. the dialogue is proof itself, especially considering how little of fenris’s experience carver ( or anyone else for that matter ) can truly comprehend. 

what i will do, true to form, is explain that no, carver did not just pull that suggestion, careless as it was, out of his ass. while hawke may or may not do their best to lay low as an apostate, potentially choosing to engage then-knight-captain cullen over the unjust treatment of mages depending on player discretion, carver has internalized how malcolm guided the family. his father taught them to keep their heads down and be prepared to hit the road in case the circle caught scent of them? then that must be the best way to approach it. emotional neglect unfortunately primed carver to idealize and adopt malcolm's choices and general philosophy. this carries over even to legacy, where, regardless of carver's current character arc, carver will agree that malcolm was correct to keep secrets.

so there's fenris, right, who carver believes is in a position similar to that which the hawkes have been in. carver, attempting to help ( as he is wont to do ), wants to share what had worked for them in attaining a semblance of normalcy, not realizing or considering that that is not fenris's foremost goal. hiding is not a one-size fix-all solution, but carver hasn't expanded his horizons well enough to grasp that fully yet.

then there's largest contributors to my secondhand embarrassment in da2:

Carver: You're very different from other elves. Fenris: Oh? You know them all? Carver: No. I just... you look different. There's no denying that. Fenris: It is what I am. And unlike the problems you claim to have, I really did have no choice. Carver: Do we know anyone who isn't brooding every hour of the day? Fenris: Like attracts like, it seems. ─────── Carver: You know, Fenris, I have a tattoo. Fenris: You have a what? Carver: A tattoo. A lot of us got them before Ostagar. It's a Mabari. For strength. Fenris: Does it curse you with the ability to reach into a man and tear out his insides? Carver: Uh. I can make it bark. Fenris: Please don't.

i’ll start with the second one first. at its heart, the tattoo banter hearkens back to the fact carver wants to feel like he has something in common with someone. yes, it is cringe. but it’s also misguidedly sweet, and on top of that, it’s something carver also tries to do with merrill, who carver arguably has the friendliest dynamic with out of hawke’s crew. 

Carver: Your people came a long way Merrill, but I like to think that we have Ferelden in common. Merrill: I never saw Lothering. Did you walk as much as we did? Probably more, you didn't start with halla. Our ship stunk. Carver: Your ship? Merrill: There was something foul in the hold. I can still smell it. Carver: Oh, well, that must have been unpleasant. Merrill: It was. Did I miss something dirty again? Carver: No.

speaking of parallels, the “you’re very different from other elves” dialogue mirrors this one with merrill:

Carver: So, you're not like a lot of other girls. Merrill: No, I'm an elf. Carver: Right. Alright then. Merrill: Oh, did I miss something dirty? Carver: What? No! It wasn't dirty. It wasn't anything.

yes, i took 42069 points of psychic damage from reading that too. but the main takeaway from this is that carver is trying, poorly, to make the two people he thinks he could be friends with feel like they’re special. ( you know, like how carver wishes he was. lol. ) to disastrous results. but i think it’s more than worth mentioning that the intent behind his conversation-making is never once condescending. 

and it’s not like carver lacks self-awareness, either. after he becomes a warden and returns to the party for mark of the assassin, he admits he lacked polish.

Aveline: I'm glad you found a place with the Wardens. Carver: Well, it's not the city guard, but it'll do. Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you. Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I?

Carver: So, we're lost. Varric: Just like old times. Carver: Maker, I hope not. I was an ass. Varric: (laughs) Fair comment, Junior. All right, let's get this done.

and specifically to fenris:

Carver: Orlesians. Can't build a hallway without turning it into a maze. Fenris: Keep going. I'm sure your training will kick in any moment. Carver: Still don't like me? I've tried to change. Fenris: You have. Now you're dangerous. Let's move.

i don’t know how to end this nearly 1.5k meta, so tl;dr i guess

[chloelucia13]

Chapter 15: The Mall Rats and the Case of the Missing Lifeguard

Pairing: none for the moment (currently Jonathan Byers x (kinda) Platonic!Henderson!reader)

Prompt:  You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: You felt... different. Whatever happened that night in that warehouse had changed you, but you feared telling anyone else about what had occurred. Or maybe... Maybe you couldn't.

Warnings: some fluff, some angst, mostly just going in depth with plot, language, kinda gory, discussions of not having control over your body (flashbacks in italics, separate perspective in bold)

Word Count: 3746

A/N: The series continues! The chapters for season three are gonna get pretty wild, so I hope everyone’s excited to see it! As always, my requests, inbox, and tag lists are open! 

Tags: @just-my-fandom​, @nightbu-g​

“Get the fuck up! We gotta go!” 

A harsh cough rattled your lungs as you awoke, blinking quickly to try and clear your vision and orient yourself. “Wh-” you grumbled, scrambling to get on your feet.

A hand grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet. Your mind quickly caught up with your body and you began to sprint. Behind you, a snarl echoed through the empty warehouse, spurring you further forward and out of the building. “Get in the car!” Billy demanded, and you followed his instructions with no second thought. 

As soon as you both had sat down, Billy sped out of the lot and down the long stretch of road. “What the fuck was that?” he shouted, his voice strong despite the clear wooziness that plagued both of you.

It was familiar, that you knew. That presence, it was something that had left a large imprint on you. You thought it was gone. You thought you didn’t have to suffer any longer.

But whatever that thing was, it was more than you had ever seen. It was new, worse than anything you had ever experienced. It scared the shit out of you.

So you only half-lied when you responded, “I don’t know.”

Within moments, Billy screeched to a halt in front of a phone booth. You both stumbled out of the car and tucked yourselves away in the glass box, praying that it would be enough to shelter you from whatever that being was, if only for a few seconds. As you leaned against the wall to try and get a full breath of air int your lungs, Billy held the handset to his ear and dialed 911. From where you stood, you could hear a tinny female voice come through the speaker.

The single light above your head began to flicker, and any hope that you had in your mind that this was something completely foreign flew out the window. 

You and Billy exchanged a glance as the light died out, and he hung the handset up before hesitantly pulling the phone box’s door open and stepping out. You followed behind him, footsteps sounding in the distance as you stared out at the open road where the car’s headlights illuminated a path. A thick fog had settled over the air, ashen particles intermingling with the fog and creating an all-too-familiar dread in the pit of your stomach.

As the two of you walked forward, the silhouette of a crowd could be seen through the haze, their footsteps growing closer and closer to you.

“What do you want?” Billy huffed, standing his ground in the middle of the road. You stood beside him, but your fear was evident. “Hey! I said, what do you want!”

“Billy-” you attempted to stop him as a clash of thunder and flash of lightning streaked the red night sky.

“I said, what do you want!”

The crowd froze, and two individuals stepped forward, their features materializing through the fog.

Features you knew as well as your own. Features that were your own.

***

When you finally came to, you were already at the pool. You assumed you had just zoned out this morning, too wrapped up in whatever happened last night to realize what you were even doing.

But that was the thing. You couldn’t remember what happened last night. Sure, you remembered the crash, and that thing, those people. But that was it. Everything else was blank. 

You felt different. Like your skin was on fire and your insides were frozen solid. Every light was too bright, every brush of wind felt like you were being whipped, and every sound was far too loud. And you were so thirsty.

These new feelings made working at a pool more miserable than it already was. You tried your hardest to push through it, ignore the pain and just get through the day, but it proved to be much harder than you were anticipating. In order to live through the day without feeling like absolute shit, you had swapped shifts with Heather, allowing you to sit in the air-conditioned office and work at the entrance to the pool.

The day had gone smoothly for the most part, except for the lingering feeling of wrongness that had settled deep into your bones. It was that same feeling that had plagued you when you were stuck in the upside down, a sense fo familiarity in a completely unfamiliar place. But, at the same time, it was like nothing you had ever experienced, like your entire being was just a thought shoved in the brain of a body you didn’t own. 

You were about to get up and grab another bottle of water from the fridge when a figure appeared at the front counter. “How many?” you hummed, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes to block out the sunlight.

“Are you okay?” the person responded, and your shoulders slouched at the familiar voice. 

“Hey Steve. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.”

he scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “Just a ‘hey, Steve?’ You didn’t call me last night! I drove over here and you weren’t here but your car was! And now you look like you’re dying and you didn’t even recognize me!” he shouted.

You winced at the volume of his voice, your head pounding. “Sorry, sorry. My car broke last night and I had to get a ride from Billy.”

Steve vividly stiffened. “He didn’t... Do anything, right?”

“No! God no! He- he just dropped me off and I fell asleep and forgot to call you. that’s all.”

“That’s all that happened last night?”

“I said, what do you want?” Billy’s voice roared, nearly matching the intensity of the thunder clapping in the sky.

You stood stock still as the mirror image of you stepped closer and closer until they were toe to toe with you. 

Your clone and Billy’s clone spoke simultaneously, a singular bellowing voice echoing out, “To build. I want you to build.”

“To build what?” you snapped, fingers curling into fists.

“What you see.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you stepped back. 

“I don’t understand,” Billy huffed. With a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning, the figures disappeared, leaving you and Billy alone on the deserted street. 

“Billy, we need to go-”

“I don’t understand!” he snarled, spinning in circles and taking in the dramatic change of atmosphere that happened in a split second. “What do you mean? I don’t understand!”

A startled gasp fell from your lips as you snapped out of your memories, eyes wide as you fixed your gaze back on Steve. 

“What the hell, Y/N? Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve urged, reaching forward to touch you.

You recoiled, stumbling out of your chair and onto your feet. “I’m fine,” you hissed, winding your jaw tight. 

“Y/N, you’re clearly not-”

“Steve!”

He jumped at the tone of your voice.

“I’m fine. Just drop it. I need to work. I’ll call you tonight.”

He mirrored your clenched jaw, but he nodded and walked away without another word.

You collapsed to your knees with a shuddering sigh. You weren’t okay, and you wanted to tell Steve. You wanted to beg for help, for him to take you to a hospital or something. But there was this weird switch in your mind, a defense mechanism of sorts, that turned you into a completely different person. It was like you were possessed.

Your reflection on your current state was cut short, though, when a guttural yell echoed from the showers. You sprung to your feet and rushed over to the showers, only to run into Heather who had heard the same thing. You two shared a look before hurrying over to the only running shower. 

However, as soon as Billy’s crumpled form came into view, your body began to move on that same autopilot that it did just moments ago, your mind and being possessed by an entity that you couldn’t hold back. Silently, you stood behind Heather as she called out Billy’s name, hoping to snap him out of his stupor. After a few tries, she was successful in catching his attention.

“Billy, are you hurt?” she asked, lowering to her knees in front of him.

“What?” he gasped, brow furrowed.

“I said, are you hurt?” She let out a huff when he continued to stare. “What’s going on? I heard screaming. Should I call an ambulance?” She glanced back at you, confusion further marring her features when she noticed the rigid-but-dazed state that you were in.

You watched as Billy’s eyes lifted up to yours, and then everything went black.

***

The bumpy road made you dizzy as you stared at the road ahead. The car was completely silent, except for the revving engine and the thunder, of which you couldn’t decipher if it was coming from outside or if it was inside your head.

The car rolled into the familiar gravel lot that sat outside the abandoned building. You and Billy robotically exited the car and as Billy opened the trunk, you began to slowly descend down the metal stairs that fed into the building’s basement. Once you were at the bottom, you sat on the concrete floor and stared into the deep black abyss that laid just feet from where you were.

Billy’s footsteps echoed throughout the building as he walked down the stairs, his figure and the limp body he was carrying coming into view. As he walked past you, nausea settled in the pit of your stomach and you were positive that you were going to vomit, but you couldn’t even move.

He gently laid Heather’s now-alert body on the cold concrete between you and the staring darkness. Her eyes locked with yours, silently begging for mercy, and your eyes began to well with tears along with hers. Billy whispered lowly in her ear before rising to his feet and standing next to you, both of you disturbingly still as a growl echoed through the humid air.

From the darkness emerged a creature created from limbs and blood and gore, its monstrous body crawling towards the sacrifice you had involuntarily placed before it.

Beside you, though, Billy was able to tear his eyes away from the sight, anger radiating off of him. You, however, couldn’t force your body to look away.

***

When Max said that Billy may be doing something weird, Eleven didn’t expect this. 

Through the empty expanse of black, a car sat feet away from her. BIlly’s car. The headlights glowed bright into the dark, illuminating the large shatter on the windshield as she walked over to the driver’s side and peered inside.

Soft whimpers reverberated through the empty air as she rounded the back of the car, glancing into the opened trunk before looking up and seeing Billy’s figure knelt on the ground.

“I found him,” El announced.

“What’s he doing?” Max inquired.

“I don’t know. He’s... on the floor... talking to someone.”

Billy’s voice mingled with the harsh whimpers from a disembodied voice as Eleven walked closer, anxiety gnawing at her lungs as she struggled to gasp in a breath.

As she walked, she nearly stumbled over another figure that sat on the floor, a few feet away from Billy. 

“Y/N,” Eleven breathed.

“Y/N?” Max nearly shouted, and Eleven imagined that her eyebrows had shot up to her hairline. “What is he doing to her?”

“Nothing, she’s just... sitting there.” Eleven knelt in front of you, examining your face. “She’s crying.”

Just as she was about to reach out and touch you, Billy rose to his feet, startling her attention back to him.

And he looked at her. He saw her.

With his eyes locked on hers, her heartbeat jumped to her throat. There was something off lurking behind his eyes, something disturbed. But as soon as she saw him, he was gone, evaporating into nothingness.

She gasped in terror and ripped the blindfold from her eyes, light flooding her vision as blood dripped from her nose.

“What is it? What happened?” Max urged, reaching forward and touching Eleven’s arm in an attempt to ground her back into reality.

***

By the time that you had left the Hargrove/Mayfield residence, exhaustion had settled deep into your bones. Silently, you trudged along the broken road that winded from Billy’s house to yours and reflected on everything that had taken place in the last eight hours. 

You felt... disgusting. Monstrous.

You couldn’t remember much of it, but what you do remember made you ponder who you really were. Were you actually you? Did you truly do those heinous things? Or were you just a pawn, a puppet forced to orchestrate these terrible acts to appease these beings?

You were so deeply entrenched in your own thoughts that you didn’t even notice the pair of girls walked towards you.

“Y/N?” Max voiced, startling you.

“Max! El! Hey! What are you guys doing over here?” you hummed, smacking a smile onto your face and acting like nothing was wrong.

The two girls exchanged a look. “We were, uh, walking to my house. What are you doing?”

You nodded, awkwardly crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh, I was just taking a walk. Needed to stretch my legs.”

“Right.”

“Right.” You pursed your lips and looked over to El who was staring at you with a strange look. “Well I should probably get going. It looks like it’s gonna start raining soon. You guys stay safe, okay?”

They both nodded, but their demeanors were unusual. They were usually so comfortable around you, and it made you worry that you had done something to them that you couldn’t remember. 

“Bye, Y/N,” El spoke finally, nodding at you before Max grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away.

***

With adrenaline coursing through their veins from what they found hidden under the bathroom sink, the two girls rushed to the heart of town to dig further.

As they exited the pool house, they noticed Jonathan and Nancy leaving the Hawkins Post. They ran over to the other pair, calling their names. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Nancy asked the girls, her brows furrowed in confusion from their panicked states.

“Have either of you talked to Y/N recently?” Max inquired, leading the group under a large awning attached to one of the shops on the block to escape from the rain.

Nancy and Jonathan both shook their head. 

“Why? Is something wrong?” Jonathan spoke up.

“She didn’t show up to work today. Neither did Heather or Billy,” max explained.

“She probably didn’t feel good and she stayed home,” Nancy tried to reason, giving the girls a reassuring smile. “Besides, I doubt Billy and heather skipping work has anything to do with Y/N.”

Eleven vehemently shook her head. “She was with Billy,” she argued, anxiety evident in her voice.

That made Jonathan and Nancy exchange a look between each other before looking back at the girls. “What do you mean?” Nancy urged.

“Last night, we were messing with El’s powers and we decided to spy on Billy. We thought it was gonna be a bad idea, but we weren’t expecting...” Max trailed off, searching for the words. “El saw Y/N with Billy. She was sitting behind him, and she was crying, and he was talking to someone.”

“And this morning,” El broke in. “She was walking from Billy’s house.”

Max nodded. “We looked around and we found a whole bunch of lifeguard stuff hidden under the sink. We don’t know if it’s Y/N’s or someone else’s but-”

“It was bloody.”

The same panic that the girls felt began to invade Nancy and Jonathan’s systems, their hearts palpitating and their breathing becoming ragged. “Oh my god,” Nancy breathed out finally.

“Maybe it’s nothing,” Jonathan spoke, shaking his head. “Maybe we’re just reading into it too much. I’ll call her tonight and check in on her. It’ll be okay.”

The girls nodded, but that anxiety still lingered in the air. They hadn’t even mentioned what El had seen in the showers at the pool, but they thought that it wasn’t dire at the moment.

“Do you guys need a ride home?” Nancy asked, breaking the silence.

“No, we still need to do something,” Max stated vaguely before the two girls pulled their hoods over their heads and ran through the rain over to their bikes.

***

The rain was pouring outside as you tucked your hair behind your ear, a blank look on your face. In the dining room, Heather’s parents chatted idly with Billy while you and Heather meandered dazedly around the kitchen.

Some sort of bell or signal appeared to go off in your mind, as you slapped a smile on your face and made your way into the dining room, sitting in the chair besides Billy and joined in on the senseless chatter.

After a few moments, the chat fell silent, and you and Billy lifted your gaze to see Max and Eleven standing in the doorway of the dining room. You noticed both girls were taken aback by your presence, reeling for a moment.

“Max,” Billy stated plainly.

“We didn’t mean to... Barge in,” Max began to explain, finally finding her voice. “We tried to knock but maybe you didn’t hear us over the storm.”

“I’m sorry, but who is this dripping all over my living room right now?” Heather’s father spoke up, shifting to look at the two girls.

You and Billy both chuckled, exchanging a glance before you subtly gestured for him to introduce them. “I’m sorry,” Billy hummed. Janet, Tom, this... Is my sister, Maxine.”

“And her friend, El,” you added, following Billy as he stood up and walked over to the two girls.

“What on earth are you doing here?” he grumbled. “Is something wrong?”

“We just wanted to make sure everything is okay,” Max explained, quickly glancing over at you before returning her gaze to Billy.

“Okay? Why wouldn’t it be okay?” you spoke, looking between the two girls.

Max looked at you incredulously, as if that was a rhetorical question, before Eleven spoke up: “Where is she?”

“I’m sorry, where is who?” Billy hummed, a playful tone in his voice.

“Well, they’re a little burnt, I’m sorry-” Heather rambled as she brought a tray of cookies into the dining room, pausing when she saw the small group gathered between the living room and the dining room.

“Heather! This is my sister, Maxine! And I’m sorry, I did not quite catch your name...”

“El,” El stated plainly, fire in her eyes.

“El.”

“Now, what is it you were saying, El? You were looking for somebody?” you said sweetly, giving her a smile.

El’s brows furrowed confusedly as she looked over at Heather, stutters falling from her lips. I-I saw- I saw you-” El tried to formulate.

“Your manager,” Max cut in. “At the pool. He said you guys didn’t come into work today, so we got worried.”

“Heather wasn’t feeling so hot today, so we all thought we’d take the day off to nurse her back to health,” Billy explained, smiling at you and Heather. “But you’re feeling just fine right now, aren't you, Heather?”

“I’m feeling so much better,” Heather agreed, shaking her head emphatically. As Billy turned back to the girls, Heather offered the two girls a cookie. “They’re fresh out of the oven.”

“No, no, we should get going,” Max voiced, gripping onto El’s sleeve and giving you one last worried look. “Let’s go.”

“Billy, do you mind walking them out?” you asked, smiling at the two girls.

“Of course,” Billy nodded, walking behind the two girls as you made your way back to the table.

“Well, they’re quite lovely,” Janet noted. “So nice of them to check on you two, even if they dragged some mud in doing so.”

“They truly are the sweetest,” you agreed. “Sorry about all of that, though.”

As Heather’s mother began to go off on a tangent, a sharp pain began to course through your skull. Suddenly, visions of El sealing the gate closed flashed before your eyes, her screams piercing your ears. You gripped onto the table and watched black veins creep up your arms between flashes of the burning orange gate slowly web closed. It left as soon as it came though, though the veins still lingered on your skin and a heavy fog clouded your mind, inhibiting your thoughts.

The creature took over your mind, taking advantage of the fog to make you act as if nothing was wrong. You watched Billy walk into the room and sit beside you, him seemingly in that same daze.

“Is everything alright?” Heather questioned, brows knitted in concern.

“Yes,” Billy stated simply, and you took note of the black veins that snaked in his eyes when he glanced at you. “Everything’s fine.”

“Your sister really didn’t want to stay?” Janet asked, mirroring her daughter’s concern.

“No, she’s just not... you know, really a people person.”

“Well, I just don't like the idea of them out there in the storm like that.”

“Oh, they’ll be fine,” Tom huffed, clearly wanting to end the conversation.

Janet nodded hesitantly and reached for her wine, only for her hand to graze the glass and knock it over. “Oh!” she exclaimed, grabbing a cloth napkin and beginning to dab up the spilled liquid.

“I told you to slow down on that wine, Janet,” Tom grumbled, shoving another forkful of food into his mouth.

“Yes, darling.”

“Are you okay, mommy?” Heather asked, her brows furrowed once more.

“Yes, I’m- I’m just... Feeling a little lightheaded is all.”

As Tom made another comment about the wine, you and Heather and Billy exchanged a look, all of the emotion gone from your faces. Out of your peripheral, you watched as Heather’s mother rose from her seat, only for her to collapse to the ground.

Heather’s father shot to his feet to help his wife, all the while you three gripped your weapons in your hands. You handed Billy a bottle of chloroform and as he wet his cloth napkin with it, Heather carried her wine bottle into the living room. Silently, you both followed behind her and watched as she swung the bottle into her father’s skull. Billy handed her the napkin a moment later, and Heather quickly finished off the remaining half of her parents.

[bxdbxdboy]

Character Development

BASICS

Full Name:  Luz Noceda 

Alias:   Apprentice

Nicknames: Bad Boy, (Luz Squad) B.Boy, (herself) Soft Boy, (Cottage) Baby Boy, (Eda) Nice Boy, (Sunny) Sweetheart (Bee)

Sex / Gender:  Female, Nonbinary  (she/her/hers, he/him/his, they/them/theirs ) .

Right or Left:    Left 

Age:   16.

Height:   5'6″.

Eye Color:    dark brown

Hair Color:   Dark brown

Distinguishing Marks:  She has a raven tattoo over her scar she received trying to stop her villain in her timeline. She’s shaved her left eyebrow in the middle to match her friend’s scar.  

Paragraph Of Physical Traits: She’s got a rather strong build which means she has no weak nerd arms and a significant amount of muscle to her arm. Her hair is slicked back like a wave and it’s always been like that it just has always naturally curled and folded over in that direction. When she sleeps it gets wavy or spikey sticking up like a parrot.

FAMILY / RELIGION

Parents / Guardians:     Camilla Noceda 

Siblings: n/a  adopted Brother King.

Marital Status:  Not married. 

Significant Other(s): Bee (Amity-Bee), Blushy (Amity in her timeline)  

Children:   N/A.

Other Relatives:   Many Many cousins, aunts and uncles and cousins on both sides of the family. 

Pets:   Bunga, (familiar, honey badger) Saturn, (familiar magical Owl) Calypso. (palisman Sable)  

Friends:     Cottage, Sunny, Iris, Bee, Lucky, Otter, Puppy, Gus, Willow.

Enemies:     Emperor Belos. 

Ethnicity:     Latina 

Religion:     None. 

Beliefs:    N/A

Superstitions:    black cats, broken mirrors. KARMA!

Languages:   English. Spanish. 

Diction / Accent:    Spanish 

SCHOOL / WORK / HOME

Education:   Public School / High scool leverl/ Hexside

Degree(s):   Not yet. 

Occupation:   Local Power washer for her boiling isles, Food delivery, Potion distributor. 

Own or Rent:    Neither.

Living Space:   Eda’s home in the owl house, Her home in the human realm, and Magic Treehouse bedroom. 

Work Space:    N/A.

Main Mode of Transport:   Skateboarding, Walking, running, or flying. Can drive, will learn, will drive without license. 

PSYCHOLOGY

Fears:      Being replaced / abandoned,  her anger issues, her home getting concurred, loosing her friends, venomous snakes, possessed creatures, dark mimics. spiders, The deepest depths of the Ocean, Slender Man, Siren Head.  

Secrets:    A big softie just doesn’t want many who meet her to realize it. 

IQ:     Was never formally tested,   but she may not be as intellectually gifted as the other Luz’s There’s a big jock mentally mindset to her as a whole.

Eating Habits:  Ravenous Appetite, no matter how much she eats she’s always asking for more. She can put some food away if someone has something they’re saving it’s too late she’s already gotten to it. 

Food Preferences: She enjoys Hot Wings they are her most favorite food besides Pizza coming around at a close second She likes a lot of junk food candy, cookies, chips of all kinds. On occasion she will eat something green though like some lettuce with taco meat or a green pepper. She’ll eat it all everything under the sun and even be adventurous eating a wide margin of other foods. She almost always has hot sauce on her there isn’t a single kind of meal she doesn’t love covered in the hot stuff.  

Sleeping Habits:   She sleeps well, for the most part, when she isn’t attempting to be a night owl she falls asleep relatively quick, even rivaling some of the younger Luz’s with how early she can fall asleep. It’s likely she has sleep apnea as she has tendency to snore so very loud and wakes up during the night in cold sweat, when she stops breathing from night terrors. She will oversleep until almost 2:00 in the afternoon if not monitored.         

Book Preferences:   She’s not a big egg-head book reader like the rest of the squad is the most Bad Boy read in school was “Animal Farm”, and The “Lord of the Flies”, in high school two books that peaked her interest a little bit. She also enjoys listening to Cottage read some horror books it’s the most she’ll really listen rather than use her eyes to read, in fact, one would say she struggles to read efficiently. 

Music Preferences:     Hip Hop, Rap, Dubstep, 80′s music, The Weekend, Various artists. 

Leader or Follower:    She likes to be the boss, but will occasionally follow if she doesn’t have to do much. 

Planner or Spontaneous:  Spontaneous! All of her ideas are never planned out she definitely does not look before she leaps. Her leaps are full of optimism and happy stupidity. The only time she tends to plan is when Bee holds her hand and forces her to take a step back. 

Journal:    Nope

Hobbies:    Dancing,   listening to music,     training,    watching videos / shows,  exercising,  roasting members of the Luz squad, doing dangerous stunts, skateboarding, basketball, baseball, (more so the batting range)  Surfing (Prior), Deep woods exploring, practicing her magic, teaching her familiars, (Saturn and Bunga) Listening to music, Swooning Bee, Video games, Baking Pizza, Breakdancing, Beat Boxing, Collecting Hats, Serenading, Dancing, Snuggling King.

How Do They Relax:  By listening to some calming beats privately, counting to 10, or at any point stroked by Bee she curls and becomes softer. 

What Excites Them:  Competitions,  Wild magic, Magical Creatures, Parkour, Plane Crash videos, Unus Annus, Dogs! Kitties, Being in charge, Buffalo sauce, Food!, Flirting, 

What Stresses Them:  Bossy individuals, Strict Parents, Rude people, Being inside the Emperor Castle, Being the butt of the joke, Tests, Explosives. Needles. 

Pet Peeves:   Vegan food, Whining, losing games, Being accused of being a perv, mocking, people stealing her hat,  Lucky sending her cursed images. 

Prejudices:  high horse, pretends not to be a trouble maker to stay in good graces, struggling to not be hostile towards her doppelgängers, 

Attitudes:   Closed off, Laid back, Aggressive,  or chill and cool depending on who you are. Bad Boy appears to be the “scary” anger issues Luz that is liable to explode at any moment and when she does her face and ears can get as red as Bee’s. You’re either in good graces with her or your not, she’s not always easy to approach unless you have a good sense of humor than she cracks up with you about stupid jokes. 

Obsessions:    Her shoes and hats, her favorite music, lids, BEE

Addictions:    Does addiction to sugary cereal count? because oh my god-!!

Ambitions:     Defeat Belos in her timeline, find a way to get adopted as a sibling by Cottage Core, Have her own identity outside of Cottage and the Luz squad.   Become a powerful witch, Make her mom proud.  

ASTROLOGY / PHISIOLOGY

Birth Date:    November 26,    2005.

Sign:    Sagittarius

Traits Associated with Western Sign:  loyal, smart, assertive, and compassionate personality   

Chinese Zodiac Sign:    The rooster

Traits Associated with Chinese Sign: active, amusing, and popular within a crowd. Roosters are talkative, outspoken, frank, open, honest, and loyal individuals. They like to be the center of attention and always appear attractive and beautiful.

Handwriting:     It’s okay…;      fairly sloppy.

Sexual History:   N/A.

General Health:     She takes pretty good care of herself as far as hygiene and having a good confident attitude.  experiencing some struggles with her adhd, bad posture leaves her with some back pain.

Mental Disabilities:      PTSD,   ADHD,  depression,  

Allergies:   Seasonal.

OBJECTS KEPT IN

Purse / Bag:  Wallet, towel, water bottle, Treehouse keys key chain,

Wallet:     Photo ID, Gold, Cash, rings, Brass knuckle, 

Fridge:     Chalked full of between meal and frozen pizza. 

Medicine Cabinet:  Bandages, Healing Potions, Icey-hot muscle rub,  

Glove Compartment:   Parking tickets, Trespassing tickets, concert tickets. 

Junk Drawer:     fidget spinners, gum, pens, sharpies, stress balls. 

Backpack:   Hats, Snacks, Mints, hair gel, Extra clothes, socks,  pepper spray, hand sanitizer, suntan lotion, hair brush

Desk:   Doodles, Paper Airplanes, Crumpled up Paper.

Clothes Pockets:    Phone, Hot Sauce packets, hand warmers, stress ball.  

OTHER

Halloween Costumes:   A zombie, the cementary is hiring.

Talents:    break dancing, beat boxing, fighting in close quarters, self defense, making Luz squad question their sanity, making jokes, flipping her hat. being annoying. 

Politics: Nah. 

Flaws:   stand offish,  moody,     blunt and direct,   vain,  doesn’t like to be on the losing side indecisive, selfish,

Strengths:  Her optimism, strong sense of personal integrity, avoiding the status quo, free spirited, confidence level, good sense of humor.  

Drugs / Alcohol:    N/A. No who invited? 

Passwords:     The most random shit. 

Prized Possessions:   Her hat passed down by her oldest cousin, her unus annus sweatshirt, a small wolf plushy named Akela 

Time and Place:    Currently, at the Treehouse interviewing new members of the Luz squad. She just got back from a trip and she has jet lag.     

Special Places:      The treehouse, her original house, The owl house, the forest where she goes to meet Blushy, The cliff by the Grom tree, the beach. 

Special Memories:   Meeting Eda and King then running into Cottage and Bee, Becoming friends with Cottage Core learning magic from them, Teasing Belos and Hunter with Cottage Core, Dancing with Bee at her Grom, becoming a polyamorous couple with Bee and Cottage. Being accepted into the Luz Squad. 

Tagged by:    Stole it from @witchesborn​

Tagging:    You,    if you want to do it.

[komfortkiri]

QUIRKLESS!KATSUKI BAKUGO x QUIRKLESS FEM!READER x QUIRKLESS!EIJIRO KIRISHIMA 

WORD COUNT: 1,308 TW/CW: GUNS, GUN WOUND/BEING SHOT, BLOOD, HEAD INJURY, DEATH, CURSING, VOMITING, DEPRESSION.

NOTES: I felt inspired and I couldn’t make an AO3 so.... I decided to post this on here for now then move everything over once I get an invite in my email. I hope you enjoy this whirlwind of.. emotion for this first chapter. Don’t worry, it won’t be the last of Bakugo. There will be HELLA plot twists. The first part is a flashback, in case it’s not clear. Y/N will have quite a few of them. I’ve already started on the 2nd chapter so after the zoo tomorrow, I’ll finish and post. 🥰

SONG: BeFoUr - ZAYN

Everything was so blurry. You managed to sit yourself up but felt so lightheaded, that you had to use the last bit of strength you had to hold yourself up. What was that loud explosion? You brought your hand to your head to rub but the minute it made contact, it felt wet. You thought it might have been from the sprinklers but when you looked at your hand, all you saw was blood. Your stomach wasn’t the strongest as it was but the splitting pain that you felt plus the faint feeling of adrenaline was enough to distract you from your urge to hurl. All you heard was ringing and alarms from what was left of the house you had just kicked doors in at.

You looked around, scanning the room with squinted eyes. There was debris everywhere, smoke filled the air and-- Wait.. Where was your partner? “Katsuki?” No response, maybe you weren’t loud enough. You tried so hard to move but that’s when you felt a sharp pain in your side and you looked down. You were shot. That didn’t stop you, though. Not only was Katsuki your partner for work, he was your literal partner. You lived together and loved each other so much. He was the first guy you had ever fell so madly in love with and the thought of him even dying was unacceptable. “Katsuki!” you screamed with everything you had left inside of you, using the arm you were propped on to drag yourself forward, wincing at the unbelievable amount of pain you were experiencing.

It seemed almost impossible to move yourself along the floor. You didn’t weigh that much, did you? You put your opposite hand over your side, applying some pressure to it. You managed to pull yourself to what seemed like the kitchen portion of the home, leaning your back on the doorframe for a minute to take a few deep breaths. “Jesus fuck.” That was all you could say considering the position you were in but when you went to look around the kitchen for any type of life form, it felt like your heart stopped and everything around you went slow. “No. No, no, no. Kats!” Your eyes filled with tears, from not only the pain, but the sight of your partner, your lover, lying lifeless on the floor. You pushed through the pain as much as you possibly could to pull yourself the rest of the way toward him but your arm was cramping so bad that it gave out just next to him. You tried so hard to reach for him, hoping that your fingertips could graze his face.... but even if you were so close, you were still so far away.

8 months later.

The last several months seemed to pass by rather quickly. It was filled with the same shit, every day, after you fully recovered from.. the incident.. All it consisted of was you waking up at the crack ass of dawn, attending work, sitting at a desk because nobody thinks you’re ready to go on missions yet then going home to wallow in sadness of it being so empty.. It was boring and a waste of your time, you felt like. You were one of the agency’s best agents, never failed a mission, and now you’re sitting around twiddling your thumbs.

In fact, that’s where you were currently. You were staring at your laptop screen, tears coming to the surface again because your background picture was you and Katsuki at a festival he brought you to as a surprise. You ran your hand over your face, blinking the tears away right in time because your boss, Ronald Clark, paged you through the intercom, telling you to come to his office. “Great, what does that old bastard want now?” A deep sigh left your lips as you stood up to head toward his office.

Once you reached the door to his office, you took a deep breath then opened the door, walking in. It seemed like you weren’t the only one that your boss wanted to talk to because your eyes immediately darted to a rather big man with bright red hair sitting in one of the chairs in front of Clark’s desk. You walked toward where both men were, but it seemed like they were so busy laughing about whatever it is they were talking about, that they didn’t even acknowledge your existence. You cleared your throat and it immediately got both of their attention, causing the red head to turn and look at you and you at him. You hadn’t seen him around here before so who was he? Why was he here? What did he have to do with this meeting with your bossman?

“Ah, Y/N. Sit.” You broke eye contact with the stranger to look at your boss, nodding. You circled around the other seat next to where the big guy was sitting to settle into it. “You wanted to see me, Clark?” He cleared his throat, almost nervous to bring anything up but he sat up straighter in his chair, crossing his arms on his desktop in front of him. “Well, Y/N, I called you in here because I know that you’ve gotten tired of your desk work and I get it, I really do. That’s why, I wanted to ask if you really feel like you are ready to get back out on the field? I know what happened was devastating for you so please, if you aren’t ready then--” You cut him off, “I’m ready but what’s Hot Tamale over here have to do with any of this?” You could’ve swore you heard a quiet chuckle leave the man’s lips. Your boss looked at him first then averted his eyes back to you, “Hot Tamale is going to be your new partner.” Your stomach dropped and all you seemed to be able to muster was a sarcastic laugh, scoffing. “Come on, boss. You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.” The red head rubbed the back of his neck nervously, not expecting that type of reaction.

You heard Clark sigh while you looked between the two but he just shook his head, “I’m not joking, Y/N. It’s been 8 months and I know you’re still grieving but.. if you want to get back out there, you need a partner. You can’t do things without one-- It’s too dangerous.” You clenched your jaw, running your fingers through your hair. “Of course, boss. I understand.” Arguing would only get you more desk time and you were not doing that so you had guessed you’d play along with this.. game. “This is Eijiro Kirishima. He’s come from a bigger and more specialized agency. He’s very skilled in combat and is great with a gun.” You nodded, feeling sick. Did this mean that you were seriously replacing Katsuki? The longer you sat in the room with the two men, the hotter it became and the more nauseas you felt. “I hate to be rude but.. I’m feeling sick. I need to run to the little girl’s room.” You didn’t even wait for any rebuttal because in seconds you were running out of the door with a hand over your mouth and to the restroom down the hall, luckily making it to a stall where you puked from sadness.. disappointment.. anger. You felt so many emotions that it was hard to really pinpoint how you really and truly felt.

After you were finished in the stall, you came out then walked to the sinks, looking into the mirror. Why did you have to leave me, Kats? This wouldn’t even be happening right now. You hated to blame him but you were out of options at this point. It all just wasn’t fair and felt like it never really would be anymore. Tears began to fall from your eyes, one after the other. The heartache was too much to bare right now.

While debating on whether you should go back to your Clark’s office or go back to your desk, you received a text message from him telling you that you could take the rest of the day off and to feel better. You breathed a sigh of relief, doing just that.

You knew that tomorrow, you would start training with your new partner.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Are you Christian? You usually seem very negative about it with Jake but Nat talks Bible stories and you own a Bible?

There are a few things to unpack in this ask, and I’ll try to touch on them all. 

CW for frank talk about religion/Christianity, child abuse, domestic violence

1. I was raised in a very conservative rural Christian community in which the closest I came to knowing an open atheist before I was in high school was that my best friend’s family didn’t go to church. It was the kind of conservative Protestantism where my friend in high school being Catholic was cause for commentary by my extended family, who were concerned that if I attended church with her I might get into “idol worship.”

I wanted Card Captor Sakura tarot cards once because I thought the art was beautiful and had a family member threaten to burn them.

I took Christianity for granted as the foundation of the world until I watched it used as a cudgel against the people I knew who in some way did not fit a mold that made no sense, and I became aware that the strictures I was living in were subjecting some of the people I loved to utter misery, hatred, and violence. This is before I was able to even conceive of my bisexuality. 

The older I get, the more I see how the American Christianity I grew up with is merely a weapon, twisted and corrupted from the very words that its adherents claim to most believe in, used to excuse and justify bigotry, selfishness, and cruelty. Learning about the history of Christianity used as a weapon during colonization did a lot, too, to make me see that what I read, and learned, in the Bible was not Christianity as most of its adherents understood it.

Would I identify that way now? I don’t know. There is such a weight of negativity, when we have watched those great and pious Christians support tearing children from their families, executing prisoners, justifying all those things they once taught us were unforgivable sins unless you repented, and selling the soul of the national Christian to gain a little power and a justification for their own bigotry.

If you shall know them by their fruits, there are a lot of rotten fruits.

There is a lot of good in Christianity, but it has lost so much ground by catering to the worst and refusing to stand up for those who need love most. The very people we are called to hold our arms out to are turned away for the tiniest, flimsiest, most ridiculous reasons.

The person I have known in my life who most embodies Jesus is an atheist and she is working herself to the bone trying to serve undocumented communities along the border in Texas, despite a consistent risk to her own health from the violence she is routinely threatened with.

2. I don’t really think the comparison of Nat to Jake is a fair one. Jake grew up in an abusive environment, and his experience with church was a congregation that turned away from the obvious signs that he and his mother were being abused. 

Jake experienced being told his father was the ‘head of the household’ and he should be more respectful. He experienced his father’s bullying, violence, and homophobia. He experienced his mother being told that she should try to “steer” his father away from abusing her, or be more faithful, or call on God for help, when the people who could have helped her chose not to.

He saw his father wear the mask of an affable family man, and how everyone chose to believe the mask, because it was easier for them if they did not see a woman and her son who desperately needed a way out.

Jake’s experience was, as a whole, a deeply negative one. And if you think it’s not true to life, I would challenge that you are ignoring a lot of stories of very real people who have experienced and survived this exact thing.

While I have not modeled Jake on a single person, every aspect of his upbringing, right down to being told that if he respected his father as an authority more that the abuse wouldn’t be so bad and being sent back to his mother when he got old enough to fight back and couldn’t be used to control her from afar any longer, is something that happened to someone in real life.

A lot of these things are hidden - but they are still real.

Nat, meanwhile, has a background of some similarity to my own, in that nothing was perfect but the church was not inherently negative in her life, it was simply part of the foundation. She has a lot of joyful memories of her childhood in church.

A lot of us are walking around who may not attend church, at least not regularly, but who were raised on Bible stories that we can still recite word for word even a decade or two later, and who can sing whole songs from Veggie Tales, who could right here and right now burst into “THERE’S A RIVER FLOWING DEEP AND WIDE” at the top of their fucking lungs. You want to hear about Jacob wrestling with God? I can recite parts of it from memory. I can sing “It Is Well With My Soul” right now. How Great Thou Art, all the old hymns, they’re still in my mind and my heart and I still find so many of them beautiful. 

I still think of Bible stories when making comparisons, sometimes, because it’s very much like any memory - your mind pulls on the strongest associations automatically, and our childhoods are foundational. 

So, yeah, Nat thinks about those stories and what is left between the lines, because they’re part of her identity, no matter how she lives, now. She also tells Jake, when following the ambulance to the hospital, “we take the hand that God deals us and we hope for the best”. 

I would argue Nat has retained some faith in God as a force of good, but she has retained a faith that requires her to do the hard work, make the hard choices, and stand up for the ‘least of these’ rather than hoping someone else will, rather than waiting for someone with more power or more authority or more money to do it.

Nat is my view of the ideal Christian - imperfect, prone to mistakes, but her compassion knows no boundaries, and she will stand up for the weak ones, and those who need her, even at the cost of her own freedom and life if necessary - but she doesn’t sit around proclaiming it, she doesn’t need the world to know it, she only needs to show through her actions, be known by her fruits. She fucked up before, sure, but she’ll spend the rest of her life working to undo that failure and how it hurt so many people she could never have understood at the time, with the information she had available to her. If I had to pick a song to define how I see Nat’s view of religion, it would be Dear Me by Nichole Nordeman.

If Jake kept any shred of positivity towards religion, it would be because of living with Natalie Yoder, who actually quietly lives out all the shit that other people just say really loudly while publicly supporting the opposite.

They’re different people, with different life experiences and therefore very different ways of looking at Christianity - and neither one of them is me, not fully. Neither one fully reflects where I am, in my own beliefs. 

I understand them both, but I am not my characters, and I don’t want their mindsets or beliefs to be taken as mirror reflective of my own, because they aren’t.

3. For the record, I own five Bibles. Three were gifts, two I bought myself a long time ago. The archeology Bible I bought myself and I still fucking love it, it’s cool just from a history nerd perspective even. I have never thrown a Bible away in my life, and I don’t get rid of them. 

It’s just a superstition, I guess, but I’ve never been able to. 

When my father died, he had something like seventeen Bibles, many deeply worn and torn. I can’t tell you how we agonized over what to do with them, because throwing away a Bible seemed so deeply wrong. We had to sort of gin each other up to be able to throw any of them out, and we still kept some.

But, yeah. I own a few. 

I think you are likely to discover that a whole lot of us raised very Christian still have Bibles in our houses/apartments, whether we currently practice or not. 

Some of us may only have them for still-religious family members to see, to hold off a series of questions we don’t want to answer. Some of us have them because they’re just part of our lives, like the walls and the kitchen faucet. Some of us still sit down to read them, sometimes, because we still feel moved by the stories that lived in us first.

Some of us keep them for all those reasons and more.

[phairfantooooom]

Dancing with the Devil(s)

In which the brothers try to teach you how to dance (Read: WALTZ)

Mammon

hahahahaha

Oh is he just a ball of nerves!!!!

“Of course the GREAT Mammon can teach you how to dance!”

“I mean how hard can it be, right?”

He doesn’t know where to put his HANDS and his face is just constantly red. Don’t call him out on it he will just get more flustered and start stammering

HE CAN DO THIS DAMMIT

Lol no he can’t Fhskfhskf

He is very gentle and goes verrrryyyy sloowwwwllyyyy because god forbid he accidentally steps on your foot he would probably cry please give this boy a hug he gets stressed out easy

Levi

Mammon v2

He is so stiff and worried he is gonna mess up you gotta guide him a bit

Audibly counts out the beats and is staring at the ground to make sure he doesn’t accidentally hurt you

“Is… I-Is this pace okay with you?”

He actually has good form but he can never relax enough to show it off

His grip on you fluctuates between firm and loose cause he wants you to be comfortable and overthinks how you might be feeling

If he ever relaxes a bit there is a chance that you may hear him humming the melody of the instrumental piece that was currently playing

Beel

It’s like dancing with a big teddy bear

He doesn’t find slow dancing awkward or strange at all and doesn’t mind that his hands are on you

“If you start to feel tired, or your feet start to ache don’t hesitate to tell me.”

Finds dancing with you quite relaxing to be honest

Having you close and mirroring his steps reminds him of when he was a kid and he himself had to take lessons with Belphie

He tends to daydream while you both make your way across the floor, his eyes get a faraway look and sometimes you catch him staring at you with warmth in his eyes

100% would give you a kiss on the top of your head when the dance ended

And then promptly suggest going out to eat

Satan

Has “some” experience

That experience being from him reading books about dancing, he has studied it but never applied it in the actual ballroom this nerd i swear

Although you’d never know this unless he told you, because when he held you in his arms and glided across the floor you fully trusted that the guy had had professional partners before

He enjoys trying out more historical dances from the Baroque era and Renaissance period as he prefers the quaint and modest ways of dancing over modern-day practices.

Can and will twirl you and do complex moves on his part to show off and impress you

He does his best to bring out that charming smile of yours that he fell in love with

“If you want, I can make this an experience one you will never forget.”

Asmo

Oh boy

He is EXCITED

Waltz? Waltz??? “Why don’t I show you how to do the horizontal tango instead”

This boy WILL try to get in your pants at some point while teaching you

Spends less than half the teaching session showing you how to waltz and tries teaching you how to tango instead

Fucker puts a rose in his smug mouth and knows exactly how to work his body to get you flustered

He will dip you, kiss you, and take your breath away in more ways than one

Honestly one of the best dancers of the brothers if not the best

“Perhaps if you perform well enough I’ll give you a private dance…”

Belphie

I mean

The man is the Avatar of Sloth

You are leading most of the time and he is sluggishly following your footsteps while just laying his head on your shoulder

If you aren’t watching he will just straight up fall asleep and his body will go on auto-pilot and sleepwalk his steps

Despite the strangeness of it, he never weights down on you, as if his body regardless if awake or not was constantly trying to not to burden you

Eventually, if you go to take a break and sit down with him beside you he will lie his head gently on your shoulder while quiet murmurs left his lips

“Having you in my arms is one of the best feelings I’ve ever experienced.”

Holds your hand even after the session ends and has a soft small smile gracing his face as he gives you a kiss on your cheek

Lucifer

The Pride Dude

It strokes his ego that you came to him for lessons until he remembers that not many people in the house even know how to dance, and then he deflates a little

When you first start out you receive constant reassurance from him, and praise for accomplishing steps in the proper order

Graceful as hell, all his movements are calculated and he has an aura of professionalism around him

If you two are close he might even take his gloves off and hold you with his baRE HANDS It’s scandalous I know

He is a patient and kind teacher, but ONLY because he is soft for you

Makes sure that you have a good time (While still being professional with his teaching) If you try to tease him while dancing you can expect swift revenge

“What sweet punishment should I enact on you, hm?”

BONUS ROUND: The Unobtainable Quartet

Diavolo

Can and WILL sweep you off your feet with his skill

He acts as if its no big deal to dance with you, he’d make a show of it if Barbatos didn’t stop him. The man wants to show you off to the world cause he is so happy to have you by his side

He has been tutored in dancing since he was a kid and you can BET he will take advantage of it to impress you

Will reserve the most extravangent ballroom just to practice with you cause the boi is ExtraTM

If you aren’t careful he might try to sneak in a kiss during one of the times he twirls you

“You’d make an excellent date for my coronation... surely you wouldn’t mind being my partner for it, right?”

Barbatos

The elegant of the elegant

He knows his shit, he was the one who taught Diavolo how to dance

Probably the best teacher next to Lucifer

Also the biggest tease about it. He will not hold back his criticism, but will always provide constructive feedback that you can immediately apply in practice. Even when he corrects you he has this sly smile on his face as if he knew something you didn’t

Classy but also sneaky with his methods of teaching, its hard to get a read on what he is thinking until its far too late

“Surely you didn’t think I’d just teach you for free, did you?”

Simeon

The saving grace

Hasn’t danced in a long time so he is a bit rusty but he warms up quickly with you in his arms

Dancing with him tends to leave a warmth in your heart that makes you feel at home

While teaching you he also teaches Luke and god if that isn’t the fucking cute shit you have ever seen

Luke totally tells Simeon to make a move on you cause he is tired of seeing you two mutually pine for each other but not DO anything he doesn’t want to you end up with one of the wack demon brothers

Simeon asks you on a date after the session and Luke demands to come along as a chaperone

Solomon

"Oh? You're approaching me? Instead of running away, you're coming right to me?" 

"I can't ask you to dance without getting closer, you dumb shady crackhead."

Seems like he has only minimum interest in teaching you while internally he is like fuck yeah

He takes you to this little secluded spot that you didn’t even know existed and then you get to watch him cast enchantments

“It’s so we won’t be interrupted...”

O_o

Ensures that the lesson has a mystical spin on it and will make it it seem like you are dancing in the sky or on the stars and moon.

Surprisingly good at setting a romantic mood and will have you wondering just what the hell had happened after the session ended

“Perhaps next time I can teach you some more... intimate dances.”

--

A/N: jesus this took forevER also lmao so many fucking tags kdjfghsdfg shorter cause god so many characters

[nakedmossy]

Alone, Together - Chapter 1  [JJ x Reader]

JJ x READER

Description: JJ is not the only pogue on the cut who deals with abuse at home. Reader is an only child who lives with her mom and her abusive stepdad, has a strong relationship with JJ because they share the same home life. Reader experiences physical abuse for the first time, which changes her relationship with JJ irrevocably.

Chapter summary: Reader goes to a party after getting into a fight at home and tries to hide the evidence, but JJ sees and chaos ensues.

Disclaimers: Mentions of physical abuse, swearing, alcohol.

_________________________________________________________

     There were barely any cars on the road at this time of night, thankfully, because you were having enough trouble seeing as it was. Your eye was almost entirely swollen shut at this point and the overcompensation of the other eye was making it blurry. You checked the time on your phone (your car clock had been wrong since 2003) and hit the gas a little harder – the party started at 10 and it was almost 11 now. You weren’t so concerned about being late – more so you needed to make an appearance (even if from a distance) before people started looking for you. The less concerned people were the less likely they were to start looking more closely at you. The less closely they looked the better. You didn’t want to talk tonight, especially not about your face – even if you had rehearsed your explanation (“a bad surfing accident”). The light from the giant bonfire started to peak through the trees on the beach side of the road, and you felt small butterflies in your stomach. You were not popular by any means, but the Pogues cared about you and they would be there, and you didn’t like lying to them. Especially not JJ. You pulled off the main road and slowed to a crawl along the dirt access road trying not to make too much dust or noise. After throwing it in park and grabbing your pack off the passenger seat, you slipped it on your shoulders and started wandering around the treeline towards the rocks lining the beach access. You had opted out of putting concealer on to try and diminish the bruise, it would be more suspicious if you did. Nobody covered surfing wounds – they were like a rite of passage.

As you meandered slowly down the walkway above the sand, you could hear the music from the sound system competing with the thundering crash of the waves. It wasn’t stormy tonight, but the current was strong. You pulled your baseball cap out of your pack and fastened it on your head, pulling the brim down, and rounded the corner around a cluster of beach grass and shrubs, almost immediately immersing yourself in the crowd. You kept your head tilted slightly, trying to create a shadow over your eyes so it wouldn’t be massively illuminated by the light from the bonfire. You waved and offered a small smile at the few people who said hi to you before resuming to their drinks and conversations until you found yourself at the keg. One of the Junior girls who usually spent summers working at Kie’s family restaurant was running the keg, probably under strict instruction from JJ and Pope to only poor full cups to the locals, the Tourons got half full max. The girl – Kaylie you think her name was – smiled warmly at you and poured you a cup – handing it to you quickly and sloshing some over the brim.

“Cheers Y/N” She winked and resumed her honorably duty. Alright, one person down who didn’t say anything about the marks and bruising on your face. You were off to a good start. Thank god it was dark.

You kept walking through the crowd, muttering ‘hey’ and ‘how’s it going’ every few groups until you had almost reached the other end of the beach. You just wanted to sit and drink your beer, listen to the sounds of the music and the water, relax. You didn’t want to think or talk about what had happened before you got here, or why you had a swollen eye, a bruised cheek, and a split lip. You just had to stay long enough for people to know you were there and not question anything, then you could bounce and go find a spot to park and sleep for the night. Just as you were nearing the edge of the crowd you heard your name shouted from behind you. Shit. John B.

You turned quickly and smiled brightly, then waved and pointed at your beer, motioning as if you were empty and going for a refill. Then you shouted “see you in a few” and turned and kept walking, quicker. Good enough, that was passable. You didn’t hear him say anything else so you felt like you were in the clear. You found a quiet(er) spot at the end of the beach where the next line of rocks divided the sand down to the water and dropped your backpack to the ground, then lowering yourself down and crossing your legs. This was probably the first time you had sat down all day – for sure the first time you had relaxed all day. And what a fucking day it was. Your brain wandered back to your house where you had run out the front door, blood running down your cheek and chin, where you tripped at the bottom of the porch stairs and scraped your arm raw on the gravel. He had followed you out and ran after you until you got to your car and shook the door open before sliding in and slamming the door closed, locking it. He had banged on the driver’s side window and kept shouting how useless and disgusting you were to him until you managed to put it in reverse and get away from him. You saw him shouting and shaking his fist at you in your rear-view mirror. Shaking your head, you pulled yourself out of the memory, staring blankly out at the water again. A tear fell down your cheek, stinging the open wound. You winced and picked up your beer, chugging it until it was empty.

“Woah there, cowgirl” JJ laughed from behind you. Fuck. “Long day in paradise?”

He always referred to your family life, your house, as paradise. A bit of an inside joke between kids from broken homes. He had it worse by far, well, used to have it worse by far – until tonight. He popped a squat beside you and you felt his arm brush against yours.

“John B said he saw you wander over here by yourself, thought you might be peeing but – glad to see you’re not” He joked.

You didn’t look over at him, just pushed a small laugh out and said hey. You kept looking out at the ocean but tugged the brim of your hat down a bit. Thankfully he had sat on the good side.

“So…what’re you doing over here” He said less jokingly, clearly noting the awkward silence.

“Nothing” You retorted quickly “Just taking 5 to sit”

“Right, right” You could see him nodding in your peripherals. “You uh…you good?”

“What? Yeah of course. Why?” God chill out, moron. You felt yourself shift position to look farther down the beach, turning your head away from him slightly.

“Y/N…hey” He said in a more alert tone, then quickly leaning towards you had pushed the brim of your hat up your forehead. “Jesus Christ” He shouted, breathing out in exasperation. “What the fuck?”

You had flinched and instinctively looked over at him when he had lifted his hand to push the brim up, exposing your face to the glow from the distant bonfire. His expression was equal parts horror, shock, and concern. He leaned towards you and tried to get a better look but you pulled the brim back down and leaned away from him.

“Its fine JJ, just caught a bad wave and hit some coral.” Ugh. That was barely believable even to you. You should never have tried lying to him of all people.

“You mean to tell me that was a surfing accident?” He scoffed and stood up, standing in front of you looking down. “I was at the beach all day, Y/N. You weren’t there. What happened?”

You shook your head and placed your hand on top of your hat, wiggling it around then positioning the brim again. You were in the lie deep now, no turning back. “I told you, bad wave.”

He knelt down in front of you now, reaching out to take the hat off, but you swatted his hand away. He reached again and grabbed your hand when you tried to swat him, gently restraining it and pulling your hat off with the other hand. He could see you in full view now, and was silent. His eyes were glossy and he was grinding his teeth, breathing slowly but heavily through his nose. Your eyes were now full of tears and starting to spill over, but you kept eye contact with him. Through your good eye you could see it passing over his face – anger, confusion, distress. Disgust.

You felt shame, and you had nowhere to hide. The sea air was cool and felt like ice against your hot skin. JJ didn’t say anything, but he slowly leaned forward and put a hand on the good side of your face, brushing the tears off with his thumb.

“Long day in paradise” You managed to say quietly, pursing your lips together and nodding, numbly. After a breath he stood you both up slowly, holding you under your elbows, and pulled you into a hug so crushing that you felt the air entirely squeeze out of your lungs. JJ was a full foot taller than you, and was the kind of core strong that didn’t come from a gym. You felt a small part of yourself crack open when he held you, something you hadn’t expected or prepared for, and you began to sob into his shoulder. Neither of you spoke, you just stood there embracing each other until it stopped hurting so bad. An unspoken understanding passed between the two of you that JJ wasn’t alone in experiencing physical abuse at home anymore.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” He spoke in a muffled voice into your hair. You felt that he knew this was your stepdads fault. Neither of you needed to say it. “I’m here” He murmured. “You’re safe.”

When you finally relaxed enough that you were able to pull away, he loosened his grip slightly, but not entirely. His hands came up from around your back to cradle either side of your head and look closer at your face. He winced when he looked at the cut on your cheek and the presumably dark blue and purple that was forming around your swollen eye now. His expression was changing now, from anger and disgust and concern to something…darker. His eyes were dark. He chewed on his lip and took a step back, dropping his hands from your face and running them through his hair. Then, in an unexpected moment of rage, he kicked the red solo cup and let out an angry yell into the dead air.

“God DAMNIT” He shouted, startling you. “Sorry” He said when he saw your expression.

“You okay?” You said quietly, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

“No, Y/N. I’m not okay. That’s fucked” He emphasized the word by holding his hand out and motioning at your face. He kicked a piece of driftwood and ran his hands over his face again.

You took a deep breath and sat down beside your backpack again, not sure what else to do. You chewed your lip and stared out at the water, your head starting to throb.

“What are you gonna do” He finally asked, standing a few feet from you with his hands on his hips. You were stricken by him in this light, as you had been only a few times before. All his exposed skin had a sheen to it, sweat that made his golden tan look shiny. His sandy blonde hair was poking out around his backwards hat, and his shirt kind of hung around him loosely, but stuck to his abs and shoulder muscles.

“Nothing” You croaked out, almost breathlessly.

“What? No. I mean…you can’t go back there, Y/N. He’s a fucking psycho. If I didn’t think he wouldn’t take his shotgun out on me I would go there right now and kill him myself.”

You rolled your eyes at the melodramatic explanation, but he wasn’t actually wrong. You shook you head. “I don’t know”

“You … you know you can’t go back there, right?”

“Well, he’s my stepdad JJ. I can’t exactly never go home again.” His eyes narrowed and he stared at you, before taking a step closer and making a single fist out of both hands.

“That…is exactly what you don’t do. You absolutely do not go back there, Y/N. Seriously?”

“Come on now,” You were starting to get upset. You didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Not with JJ. “You’re not seriously lecturing me about staying in an abusive home are you?”

He tilted his head to the side with an expression that said careful. He licked his lips, smiled sarcastically, and turned around, staring at the water. You could see his back muscles contracting through his shirt, his breathing labored. You sighed knowingly, kicking yourself internally. Too low.

“Sorry – JJ. Sorry. I shouldn't have...said that” He didn’t turn around. You stood up, standing behind him, and reached a hand out. He flinched when you touched his back. You took your hand away and took a step back. You hadn’t meant for the comment to hurt him that bad.

“I’ll go” You said quietly, leaning down to grab your backpack from the sand.

When you stood up straight he was staring at you, his face blank and his arms folded over his chest.

“That is exactly the reason you can’t go back there, Y/N. I know what it’s like. I know how unsafe you are.”

“I’ll figure it out” You say shrugging your shoulders, starting to feel the burn in your chest and tightness in your throat again. The thought of JJ going through what you just experienced on an almost weekly basis was making your stomach turn. He hadn’t taken his eyes off you, and was grinding his teeth again, the sharp line of his jaw moving shadows across his neck. “I shouldn’t have come tonight anyways” you mutter.

You started walking towards the crowd again, fastening your hat on your head and pulling the brim down. You only made it a few steps when you heard JJ say something behind you and then felt his hand wrap around your arm, pulling you to a stop. He walked around in front of you and lowered his head until you were eye level with each other, seeing that you refused to look up at him.

“Where are you going” He asked quietly, his eyes darting back and forth with yours.

“I don’t know, I-” You looked at your feet then back to him, shaking your head. “I don’t know.”

“Please stay.” He said, eyes holding yours again. “Please don’t go back there.” His voice was quieter now, almost pleading. You could feel his hand gripping your arm tighter the longer the silence lasted.

“Ouch, JJ” You said looking down at your arm. “Oh shit” He let go of your arm, not realizing he had been hurting you, and watched as you pulled your sweater sleeve up, exposing the road rash that had hardly had a chance to stop bleeding when you got here and was now freshly bleeding again. “Shit”

“Oh fuck, Y/N, I didn’t mean-“

“Its fine, I just fell when I was-” You closed your mouth as the memory surfaced again and you started to unzip your hoodie to take it off.

“Here” JJ pulled his t-shirt over his head and pressed it onto the open wound, which was the length of your forearm. “We need to clean this” He said distractedly, trying to move your arm around to get a better look at it. You briefly stared at his chest and abs, the shadows from the bonfire making them look more defined than usual. Good lord. You were lightheaded but not sure if it was from the blood loss or the proximity of a shirtless JJ.

“I have … I don’t know. I have whisky in my car” You say before wincing loudly as JJ fastened a knot in the shirt fabric to secure it to your forearm.

JJ looked around at the crowd standing between you and the vehicles before nodding to the hillside behind you both.

“Let’s go this way.” You followed him up the small embankment and into the treeline, walking carefully around the rocks and tree roots that littered the ground. JJ had looked over his shoulder and saw that you were struggling, so he waited for a moment and put his arm around your shoulder when you caught up. You smiled up at him and then looked back to the ground to ensure you didn’t misstep.

“Don’t worry, kid” He said quietly, looking over your head at the party down the bank below. “We’re in this together”

When you had reached the clearing where the cars were parked, you took a second to kick a rock out of your sandal before walking towards your own car, and froze. JJ stopped and looked at you, confused, before following your gaze. There, parked next to your car, was your stepdad. 

You felt your chest tighten and your throat constrict and your vision tunnel. This wasn’t seriously happening right now. Why was he even here? How did he even drive here? He was so inebriated when you had left three hours ago he should have been passed out by now.

“JJ-” You had started but your voice was so high pitched it had cut out. JJ looked down at you and had shook his head in confusion before starting to put his arm out to hold onto you. You had already started moving towards the car, your legs going without your brain knowing why yet. You had an unprecedented urge to defend yourself, to protect JJ from being a part of this shit show, to stop whatever was about to happen before it started.

“Y/N, wait!” JJ had shouted from behind you, but you didn’t. You picked up your speed and walked with intention to the parked car. Just as you were in eye shot of the mirrors, the passenger’s side door opened and your mom climbed out, moving towards you. You stopped.

“Mom?” You looked at her, her work uniform still on, her hair messy as if she had been sleeping on it, and her face puffy from crying. “What’s going on? What are you doing here?”

When she saw your face she began to cry, her hands going out towards you. She had muttered something about ‘my baby, my poor baby’ before pulling you into a hug.

“Mom what’s going on” You repeated, numb to her affection.

“Oh JJ, oh my babies” Your mom continued to cry, her hands fussing all over you, looking from you to JJ and back. “He just wants to apologize, baby. He just wants to apologize.”

As she had been fussing over you and smoothing down your hair and rubbing your shoulders, he had gotten out of the driver’s side and turned to face them.

“Why did you come here?” You spoke quietly, back away from the car, away from him. You backed up until you backed into JJs chest. He stood firm and put his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, kid” He said quietly, looking down at the road and not making eye contact with neither you nor JJ. JJs hand had tightened on your shoulder, reminding you was there. “I just uh…you should come home.”

You had already started shaking your head before he had finished talking.

“I think you should go.” JJ had said loud and clear, directly at your stepdad. “Now.”

“Back off, kid” Your stepdad had retorted, staring right back at JJ. He seemed quite sober now, which meant he was still drunk but on the functioning alcoholic scale he was at the sober end. “None of your business” He had mumbled, when JJ took his hand off your shoulder and began walking towards the car. 

You wanted to tell him to stop, to wait, to stay away from your stepdad, but you felt your lips start to tingle and your limbs feel distant. This was not happening. This was terrifying. You started to hear a ringing in your ears that was drowning out the now very loud arguing between JJ and your stepdad. You saw JJ shove your stepdad back towards their car, then you looked over at your mom in what felt like slow motion as you felt your knees hit the ground, sharp gravel and dirt cutting into your skin. You couldn’t breathe but somehow felt like you were hyperventilating at the same time. You were choking. You heard your mom let out a small scream of your name and then everything went black.