#guy at my church is going there now and he texts me to complain about it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

meissashush · 1 year ago

Note

4, 11, 17, 18, 25 <3

I liveeeeeeeeeee

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

Good feral or bad feral?

My favorite word ever is susurrus; a hushed sound, a murmur, the rustling of wind. It looks and sounds how it should and it makes my brain purr.

The word I hate the most is turgid. I don't think I need to quantify that, just look at the damn word.

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

Honestly? Nope! I don't kill my darlings much at all. I do, however, sometimes set them aside into a different dock to be recycled later. My 'darlings' are phrases and events that I think are fun and cool, so they get to stay because they are fun and cool.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

Uhhhhh -shoves my piles of WIP under a rug- What wip? I don't have wip. Haha.... haaaaa

Okay, well let's take a look at one that probably will never get published. Pre-Tears of The Kingdom being released, I was getting out my impatience by throwing Noctis to the wolves. Now I'm well into the new game, and ironically I can still make this fic work, but idk if it will ever evolve beyond what it is--selfish fun writing.

Some excerpts:

The Legend of Lucis Noctis wakes up in the Sheikah Resurrection Pool, completely alone and confused about where he is. There is no Zelda to speak to him, nor does he have a connection to any of the Messengers. The pedestal that held the Sheikah Slate is empty, just a glowing circle with a strange ruin carved into it and a rectangular space. His magic has no interaction with it. The ‘bed’ he had been lying it is entirely dry, as Link had resurrected here, and Noctis was just dumped there by Etro. The air is humid and warm, but Noct doesn’t exactly fancy wandering around the weirdest ruins he has ever seen butt-naked. They definitely aren’t from Solheim, though he couldn’t have placed them if he tried. Ignis would be so disappointed in him. ... Noct slowly tries to get his bearings, not sure where he is or what is going on. He feels like he’s in a sort of stasis as well, his head pounding and sluggish. He wanders down the hill and finds the remains of the Old Man’s fire, as well as the apple tree and a large church. He makes his way towards it, not in the least hopeful because it looks to be in as much disrepair as anything else, but unwilling to risk getting caught out at night when the daemons came out. He wanders past the broken and overgrown fountain and up the stone steps, mildly unnerved by the weird metal statue that sits half in a puddle, covered in rust and moss. ...

Up the stairs towards the Temple (of Time) leaves Noct with a foreboding feeling. There is the metal leg of one of the Guardians sticking half out in the archway and it sets his teeth on edge, but he feels stupid once he realizes it’s another statue. The thing is terrifying, looming over the rubble, but the designs are similar to the Shrine he came out of, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. All he knows is that he doesn’t really want to meet the guy who designed them. He decides to skirt around the room and head up the left side, only to see the ‘statues’ frozen where they were climbing up the side of the temple, and Noct decides they _definitely_ aren’t statues. Fuck. He continues into the Temple, bummed to find it mostly torn asunder on the other side, but wanders over to see a few pots. Gladio is in his head, emphasizing the importance of hydration, so he picks one up to see if it might be water tight. Something rattles in it. He tips it over to find a bundle of arrows, which is weird as shit but he’s not complaining. He looks in the next few, finds more arrows and yet another chest, this one with a bow. He’s pretty much convinced he’s either trapped in a video game or in a coma dream, because there is no way anyone would leave around a bunch of chests with ‘loot’ in it. Still, he takes what he can carry and grabs a pot. Before wandering back down to see where the was water that wasn’t full of robot, he eyes the statue at the end of the Temple. After everything he’s gone through back home—did any of that even really happen?—he feels weird not being respectful of obvious religious iconography. His own gods, after all, we really very real. He can’t hope that the ones of this world will turn a blind eye to looting. The statue is way less… detailed, then he’s used to. All rounded edges and winged like a Messenger in the Cosmology. Also the six little ones circling the big one was making him uncomfortable, but he made a show of walking up to the statue and bowing anyway. “Hello, um, statue? Well, the… uh, god, I guess, that this statue depicts. I really hope you won’t mind me taking these. I mean, they’re just laying their otherwise, and I kinda need to be able to defend myself. I’m, uh, also going to take a pot to get some water. I hope that’s okay?” He feels weird and also stupid. The statue feels like it’s smiling at him like an indulgent mother. He takes the lack of smiting to be a yes. ...

He walks down the stone steps, carefully looking for signs of life or danger, and tries to ignore the amount of robot corpses frozen in time around him. If it weren’t for the bird and bugs and breeze, he would have assumed he was frozen in time with them. Instead, the whole thing just feels apocalyptic. The huge fuck-you glowing tower definitely wasn’t helping things. Big, blue, and foreboding. Just like his— Okay, no, that joke didn’t even make sense to him, and he’s the only one around to appreciate it There was also another weird glowy thing a little ways away, also blue, but he felt even less inclined to wander out there. Instead, he walked to the base of the glowing tower. It had a weird grate system along all its edges that he could probably climb, but he wasn’t sure how long that would take, let alone how long it would take him to get back down. Just beyond the tower, he can see what looks like a decrepit stone wall. He walks over the hill, man the breeze is nice here, and towards the wall. As he gets closer, he starts to see a road with lined with flags somewhere in the distance. At the edge, he can the road is full of destroyed buildings, leading towards a broken bridge and off in the distance a mountain with a split down the center. He feels incredibly alone. He walks along the wall, heading right, hoping to find the remains of a guard posting or possibly somewhere that leads off the plateau. He doesn’t want to believe he’s the only person left. As he moves right, he encounters the East Abbey, and, unfortunately, more guardians. It’s the humming noise that alerts him to them at first, having opted to ignore the creepy statues in favor of inspecting the wall. Once he hears it though, he whips his head around, desperate to find the source of the sound. He finds it, blue and red and aiming right at him. Noct warps before he can think. Once, twice, until he’s undercover. He’s breathing heavy, backing away from the robots with his heart in his throat, when he starts the hear the buzzing again. To his left (facing with his back to the east now) is another one. Without thinking, Noct runs.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

Ah yes, the hug. As in, the one thing I have given you to survive on while I slooooowly stretch this relationship as thin as it'll get.

Nyx couldn’t pretend the warm tears on his face were the rain, much as he wanted to. He sniffed wetly as they came, unwilling to look at Cor, who must have thought him a child. He felt exhausted, as he always did once the storm finally came, the burn in his hands leaving behind an old, familiar ache. In Galahd, he used to bury himself into his mother’s arms, letting the storm roll around them as the grip of Ramuh’s Temper finally let him loose. He had no shame in his tears back then. Now? Now there was only shame.

This scene was rewritten TWELVE times. Mostly because Nyx did not want to admit that he was crying. For a while it was just a place holder as

He pulled away from Cor, quickly turning to rub the rough edge of his sleeve over his face like a sniveling child. Cor’s hand was still on his shoulder, firm, but Nyx was desperate to make space between them. To spare Cor the indignity of comforting him.

Nyx is such a drama-queen. He was so much meaner to himself about this before I cut it down. The man needs therapy.

“Cor, I’m sorry, I—” “No.”

This is where Cor having a kid makes him a MUCH better romantic interest. Pre-Rosea Cor probably would have let Nyx continue to pretend he was fine so he could keep his dignity. This Cor? Nah, he knows only one thing and it is Hug.

The fight left him as that firm hand pulled him in, warm arms coming to wrap around and hold him close. Nyx stood, stunned, as Cor hugged him. A broad palm made slow, warm circles on his back as Nyx choked on the tears he couldn’t swallow anymore. The thick embrace of the heavy rain swallowed the noises of the city, and as Nyx relented into his arms, all he could hear was the thundering of his own heart against the steady rhythm of Cor’s. He let his forehead fall to Cor’s damp shoulder, his arms coming up to grip desperately at the man that held him. “It’s okay,” Cor whispered. “I have you.”

This is about as much fluff I can manage before I start to squirm. Naturally I made Nyx reflect this.

Thunder shuddered around them as Nyx relaxed into his embrace. The proud part of him wanted to pull away, to fake bravado and deny himself this humanity as he had done storm after storm in Insomnia, but he didn’t. He burrowed his face into the crook of Cor’s neck, content to ride out the storm in his arms.

And then I made myself swallow that so we could get more hug out of it. You're welcome.

It was warm. Warmer than it had any right being, soaked from the rain as they were. Nyx couldn’t even remember the last time he hugged someone, beyond the barebones slap on the back Lib had given him a few weeks ago at Yamachang’s. He didn’t know how, but life had slowly dissolved into nothing but workday after grinding workday, every moment spent picking up the pieces that monster had left behind and attempting to cobble them back together into a respectable Kingsglaive. To sew himself back together, too, in the wake of his betrayal. They stood for a while, Cor gently murmuring comforting words in his ear as the man continued to soothe his hand against Nyx’s soaked jacket. His face was aching from where it was pressed against the obnoxious epaulettes of Cor’s formal uniform, and Nyx couldn’t help but snicker at the stupidity of their situation. Two of the strongest men in Lucis, soaked to the bone and hugging it out in an abandoned guard post. The press would have a field day.

This last line was actually one of the first I wrote. I was mostly making light of them hugging in the plotting portion of this fic, so its at least a little bit surprising how serious it got. Though, to be fair, the Original also had no hug at all, soooooooooo

“Feeling better?” Cor asked, voice warm and bemused against Nyx’s temple. “Yeah,” Nyx sighed, still unwilling to pull away from Cor’s embrace. “Fuck, I needed that.”

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

Tredd is lactose intolerant.

#ask game fill #garbria #cor leonis #nyx ulric #cornyx #noctis lucis caelum #botw!AU

4 notes · View notes

ava-of-shenanigans · 2 years ago

Text

Yeah so one time during the summer between 3rd and 4th grade I decided I was going to read the entire Bible. (And I did not successfully read the entire Bible. Prophets and Letters were too boring for me so I skipped them). But I approached it the same way I would do for any other mythology/religion I was interested in learning about, Where I was more interested in hearing cool stories first and then learning the religious/symbolic meaning later if I thought they were interesting enough.

And I remember that reading the Old Testament was a pretty alright experience (except for Prophets which I skipped). Some of the stories were interesting for me to read (I remember really liking the book of Esther). And even the parts that weren’t stories I found interesting or compelling sort of held my attention through sheer force of values clash. Like hey… there’s a lot of sex and violence and sexual violence in this book I was given to read in Sunday school. (I remember this one bit where all the tribes get mad at this other one of the 12 tribes. So they kill almost all of them. Like just exterminate them with extreme prejudice. But then they feel bad about it. So to fix it, they almost completely genocide another one of the 12 tribes that did something bad, so the women from that tribe can marry the men from another tribe and they can repopulate together). And like, that’s also something I find interesting about reading stories from mythology/religious traditions. Seeing the different values from the time and culture they came from (and sometimes it’s way too much and way too upsetting for me, but I was mainly able to tolerate it here, although that might just be because I was eight years old and didn’t really grasp a lot of it). I made it entirely through all of the law books mainly because it was pretty interesting to see it demonstrated how these stories came from a time when the punishment for a lot of crimes we’d consider very minor today was being stoned to death.

The New Testament, on the other hand, I did not have a fun time with. Cause the New Testament is like, religious morals and overt messages first, and conveying those morals and messages with compelling storytelling second. Which works fine as part of a religious text, but I am not here for Christian enlightenment, I am here for fun God shenanigans. And there were very few shenanigans, so I did not have a good time. (Except for the book of Revelations. The book of Revelations is entirely shenanigans. Not narrative shenanigans; symbolism vision shenanigans that relate the treatment of Christianity in the Roman Empire, but still.)

Also I remember kind of not liking Jesus? Like in the sense of how he was portrayed as character? Like, he kind of feels like one of those characters who is really rude to people a lot of the time, but he’s the best at what he does (which in this case is being the best at knowing how to do religion right) so we’re supposed to like him anyway. And I have just never really liked characters like that. I remember reading this at eight years old, I felt like there was kind of this big discrepancy between this image I’d been given back when we still went to church of a Jesus who was nice and friendly and stuff, and this guy I was reading about who felt like the kind of adult that I’d want to avoid, because if he talked to me and I didn’t understand what he was saying or if I said something very normal and innocuous then he would yell at me about it and then refuse to explain what he thought I’d done wrong.

This post isn’t me making a statement, I just never got a chance to complain about the lack of interesting narratives in the New Testament at the time, so I’m doing it now. If you want to read the Bible for fun and not for religious enlightenment then you should only read only the Old Testament and also the book of revelations.

#Ava has thoughts

6 notes · View notes

shesharesomething · 7 months ago

Text

Shared by Pastor Joe Bonifacio

There’s so much that can be said and is being said about the strength of his character and his impact on so many lives. For someone who lived simply and desired nothing more than to support other leaders, his humble service brought him into all kinds of roles that he fulfilled well.

What follows is just a bunch of Pastor Ferdie stories that I treasure and are a bit of comfort to me during this time. Coming from the memorial service in his hometown, I tried to spend the next day writing down some thoughts. By last night I was surprised by how much it was.

OUR YOUTH PASTOR

For so many people, Pastor Ferdie was our youth pastor. A memory burned into my mind is from my freshman year of college. He asked to me to meet him in Kenny Rogers along Katipunan. Pointing at Ateneo, he said, “Joseph, inside that school are people who need to know Jesus. I believe you aren’t just a student there, but a representative for God. Will you partner with me in telling your classmates about Jesus?”

He spoke with passion and fire in his eyes. It was the same energy he preached with, except now it was three feet away and there was just one of me. In what is a common theme of everyone who had an encounter with him, I thought to myself, “This guy really believes in me.”

Pastor Ferdie set the example of a person who valued young people. This is why some bad ministry tropes never made sense to us. Like the youth pastor who sees his position as a stepping stone to “greater heights.” Or the senior pastor who didn’t understand or support the campus ministry. Pastor Ferdie was the opposite of all that.

Since his death, a number of us from his youth group have been texting each other. We’re in different parts of the world. Some are in different churches. But we’re all moved, remembering his life. Even though his title is technically Bishop, we still affectionately call him “Pastor Ferdie,” coz he was our youth pastor.

MY FIRST BOSS

When I went into vocational ministry out of college, my dad said, “Don’t serve in my church. You already know how I think. Learn from someone else. Talk to Ferdie. He and I do things differently, but he’s a good man and I respect him.”

Pastor Ferdie was a firm, energetic, and hardworking boss. He inspired great commitment and effort from his teams because that’s what he brought every day. At the time, we were scrambling to keep up with the increasing attendance so sometimes we’d be shorthanded at Sunday services. I once had to preach at four church services in a single Sunday. Exhausted, I made a comment/complaint/kuwento to Charlene, Pastor Ferdie’s assistant at the time. She responded, “Oh yeah, we’re kinda understaffed. He preached at six services the other week.” Okay, no more complaining from me.

Being a campus missionary under Pastor Ferdie could be a double-edged sword. On the positive side, you never felt like the young people were a secondary priority. There was always support for anything that would help students. But on the other hand, his standards were always high because young people mattered, so you better give your best.

In one staff meeting he said, “Any update on the young people? What’s going on with the campus ministry? Patrick? Dan? Joseph?” None of us made a comment and indicated that nothing out of the ordinary was going on. It was business as usual. At the end of the meeting, he said, “Okay, we’re done. Everyone get to work. You three campus guys stay behind.”

He gave us a stern talking to. “What do you mean you have no updates? What do you mean business as usual? Is the Holy Spirit not doing anything at all with students? When I give you a chance to speak at a staff meeting, it’s not just for logistics. It’s a chance to cast vision! It’s a chance to impart passion. How can we pray for you? How can we support you if you just say “business as usual?!” Ouch, but well-received.

The next week, he made sure to ask for an update from the campus team again. Patrick, our leader, gave his update on the overview of all upcoming events. Then Dan jumped in talking about an exciting new outreach that would become a church plant years later. I know I said something too, but can’t remember what.

He ended the meeting after our report, and asked the three of us to stay behind again. What now? “Next time, I don’t need all three of you to talk. Dan, Joseph, just give your updates to Patrick and he can speak for all of you.” While he encouraged people to be ready to inspire, Pastor Ferdie also did not enjoy when people prolonged meetings with unnecessary comments. It was a matter of respect and humility for him. Know your place, do the job, then get out of the spotlight.

THE PREACHING COACH

Pastor Ferdie embodied the calling of a preacher. He grew in confidence not through positive self-talk, but by focusing on something greater than himself. He could speak to hundreds and thousands because he loved the people. He studied diligently because he revered the Word of God. He was fearless in declaration because he wanted to bring honor to God.

Pastor Ferdie didn’t distinguish between big moments or small ones. He gave the same excellence and energy for a sermon in an air conditioned arena to thousands as in a nipa hut with a dirt floor. I think he would have recoiled at hearing someone say it was their dream to preach at an arena.

Our batch of youth ministers likened Pastor Ferdie to a high school basketball coach – the kind who drilled you in fundamentals. Like the story of legendary basketball coach John Wooden starting his teams on how to tie their shoes properly, Pastor Ferdie always had an eye for excellence in the small things. To this day, I have a mental routine before every sermon that started from those Sunday mornings serving with him.

– is anything hanging from my belt loops?

– is anything bulging out of my pockets?

— is my outfit distractingly good, bad, colorful, offensive, etc? (Pastor Ferdie wanted nothing else to take any attention from the Word of God.)

– is my message pointing to Jesus or pointing to my own works?

When I mentor young preachers, I advise them to look for what he gave me and many others: take as many opportunities as you can to serve and find someone who will give you honest feedback.

“Why don’t you do the transition later? Do you have something to share? (No.) Share anyway. You should always be ready.”

“Why would you use Genesis 11 to talk about unity? The theme of the tower of Babel is rebellion. Aren’t there better passages for unity in the Bible? Don’t twist the Scriptures to fit what you wanna say.”

“Do you realize that the whole time you were talking you said ‘You do this, you do that.’ Do you know how that sounds? How old are you? 22? There are people more than twice your age here. Your grandfather is in the second row. It would sound better if you said “we” and “us.” That would show that you aren’t talking down to the people, but are also under the authority of Scripture yourself.”

“Joseph… keep it up.” Everyone who’s ever worked with him knows the significance of that statement.

(He never called me Joe. Always Joseph. Maybe because he knew me since I was a kid and “Joe” was a later nickname. I found that weird of him until I started working more with Elle and found myself often being the oldest guy in the room and the only one still calling her Ellie.)

These and many more were weekly occurrences. I didn’t realize how generous he was being until I had to train younger preachers myself. Only then did I see that him staying engaged and making the effort to give feedback showed how much he valued preaching and helping us get better.

THE EVANGELIST

I have a memory of Pastor Ferdie. I don’t know if I imagined it. But I’ve had it for a while, so I really think it’s true. In 1997, Trumpets Theater produced an original work of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe the Musical. It was so excellent that C.S Lewis’ stepson said that in his opinion this was the theater production that was “the closest to Lewis’ intention.” (Source: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe Wikipedia page)

On one of the theater nights, our family went to watch with a lot of other people from church. I think more than half of the crowd were people we knew. The jocular mood of the church people contrasted with the ceremonious halls of Meralco Theater. At the play’s climax, you could feel an energy in the room. Aslan had been slain, but when he made his reappearance the church people were audibly excited. I heard little shouts of “C’mon!” When the girls asked Aslan what power could break the Deep Magic that bound him to death, Aslan triumphantly said, “Deeper Magic!” At this, cheers broke out at the theater like we were watching a sporting event. And I have a memory of Pastor Ferdie standing and pointing his finger at the stage with full passion. His face at maximum expressiveness. This wasn’t just a play to him. It was the Gospel.

I thought about that a lot over the years, when I would pray to be more evangelistic, I would say to myself, “It has to be like THAT.” It wasn’t just a technique for him. It wasn’t a script. It was someone so caught up in the beauty of the Good News that he couldn’t help but share it with everyone.

THE FAMILY MAN

The fastest way to see Pastor Ferdie transform was to hear him talk about his family. Or for a select few, to catch him with them. There he was gentle, relaxed, cracking jokes, and always offering food. As much as he liked the work of the ministry, Pastor Ferdie loved being home.

I only caught this a few times. But I can’t forget how he spoke about then. The pride and joy in his voice as he talked about Elle. How he treasured every moment and interaction with John Philip. He shared some of his family stories in his book, Run 50. Those accounts alone are worth the price of the short, but meaty book. I loved the chapter where he talks about the birth of their son. IYKYK

A few years ago, while on a long drive in the US, everyone else in the car had fallen asleep and I saw he was looking out the window. I asked him a question that had been on my mind for some time.

“Pastor Ferdie, if I may ask, how do you lead and receive love from your wife? I ask because Ms Judy doesn’t seem to fit the stereotype many people have of an emotional, sometimes irrational, and extremely dependent woman. It doesn’t seem like she likes big showy romantic gestures. She’s competent, logical, and capable of standing toe to toe with you.” Then I described how Carla is similar – practical and straight to the point. Our relationship doesn’t have the common expressions of showering her with flowers, chocolates, or love notes.

Pastor Ferdie was quiet then he said something along the lines of “I know Judy loves me in her own way. I don’t compare with how other couples do things. I know she is loyal to me. Her loving our children is a way of loving me. Her improving our home is her love for me. One time, I sat down to rest and she walked in with a list of things for me to do. I didn’t get mad or snap. I just smiled, and she got the message. I needed this time to rest. In short, we know how to love each other.”

That short exchange really helped me be thankful for the uniqueness of my wife and to look for how she loves me and our kids. I’ve shared that insight from Pastor Ferdie to a number of husbands when we talked about being married to strong wives. Their strength is not something to pare down, compete with, or be intimidated by. It’s a gift. Something to celebrate. And husbands need to study their wives, be secure, and find the ways that you both give and receive love.

A MAN OF INTEGRITY

Forty years ago, Pastor Ferdie gave his life to Jesus. He was immediately involved in volunteering and eventually leading others at church. In the past four decades, I haven’t heard of a single hint of inappropriate behavior, financial fraud, or immoral scandals from him.

I’m not saying he’s perfect. In fact, I had many disagreements with him, like many others. A number of people have been hurt by his leadership or rough manner. But many of those people are still mourning his passing. Because despite the hurts and mistakes, they can sense the integrity of the man.

One of them told me he was mourning because “even though we didn’t see eye to eye, he was a good man.” Another said, “He could be harsh. But he was never malicious.”

I think that’s a good point. Even when he would shout, get harsh, or have an overboard response, it was never with an intent to harm. If anything, he was doing it because he thought that was the right thing to do. It is also something he would have been willing to subject himself to if necessary. If there were inconsistencies in his manner, they were unintentional. And when he saw his error, he would acknowledge it.

Harsh? Sometimes. Malicious? Never. Duplicitous? Never. Hypocritical? Never.

A few days after he passed, I was in a Bible study group with a few church planters from different denominational and church org backgrounds.

The discussion led us to Acts 20 when Paul gave his farewell to the Ephesian elders. I was struck by how many of Paul’s characteristics applied to Pastor Ferdie.

– You know how I lived the whole time I was with you… (v. 18)

– I served the Lord with great humility and with tears and in the midst of severe testing… (v. 19)

– You know that I have not hesitated to preach anything that would be helpful to you but have taught you publicly and from house to house. (v. 20)

– I have declared to both Jews and Greeks that they must turn to God in repentance and have faith in our Lord Jesus. (v. 21)

– Therefore, I declare to you today that I am innocent of the blood of any of you. For I have not hesitated to proclaim to you the whole will of God. (v. 26-27)

– I have not coveted anyone’s silver or gold or clothing. You yourselves know that these hands of mine have supplied my own needs and the needs of my companions. (v. 33-34)

– In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” (v. 35)

– However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace. (v. 24)

These verses described Pastor Ferdie well: living simply, hard working to help the less privileged, never coveting money or possessions, preaching the Word to serve and save others, and running the race God had for him.

One of the pastors in the group remarked, “Isn’t it funny that his story is so inspiring, but that should be the norm. Shouldn’t every pastor be that way?”

I think Pastor Ferdie would like that outcome more. Instead of being one of a few shining stars surrounded by fallen pastors, he would prefer being just one of many ministers with integrity. Ministers who work hard, live simply, don’t covet wealth or luxury, preach humbly, fearlessly, and faithfully, and finish the task God has for them.

A LIFE OF DEEP RELATIONSHIPS

On the night of April 1, our oldest son approached me. He’d been giving me concerned glances all day. “Papa, I’ve never heard you cry like that before.” He wanted to know if I was okay. I explained to him that I was sad because someone I deeply respect passed away, but we would see him again in Heaven.

I told him that when we are sad about not being with someone, it’s a sign that we really loved each other and were important to each other. Like when we miss a good friend who moves far away.

Watching the outpouring of messages regarding Pastor Ferdie, we can see that he had that impact with so many. Thousands of people have a personal anecdote or point of contact with him. A timely word. A hospital visit. A note scribbled in a book. I said to a friend that it’s funny, given his grumpy image, how relational he really was. Driving to his hometown for the wake with my parents, we told each other many stories from years of knowing the Cabilings.

Given all those deep connections, it really will be painful when it gets cut. Funnily enough, one of the last messages he preached asked the question if we are living our lives in a way that will be missed when we’re gone. At one point my Facebook feed was full of Victory pastors posting that clip of his preaching alternating with different people proving with their stories that Pastor Ferdie’s life was like that.

So this really hurts and will continue to hurt for a while. Because his was a life well-lived. But we are not like those who grieve with no hope. (1 Thess. 4:13) And we will continue to pray and love the Cabiling family, even as we look forward to a joyful reunion with him and with Jesus.

0 notes

triplexdoublex · 3 years ago

Text

Scotty Doesn’t Know

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/tags: smut, cheating

A/N: based off this old song Scotty Doesn’t know from the movie Euro Trip. Colson has a small lesser known band in this fic. https://youtu.be/7_AKr1BEajA

youtube

“Does Scotty know you're here?” Colson asks as you unbuckle his pants

“No! What do you think I am? Stupid?” You question dropping to your knees.

“So, what’s your plan y/n, you just gonna string him along forever. C’mom already I want you to myself.”

You pull him free from the confines of his jeans “Can we talk about this later?”

“Y/N!” Colson scolds at your attempt to avoid the conversation for the umpteenth time.

“Sorry it’s not polite to talk with your mouth full,” you respond coyly before stuffing your mouth with him.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me!” He groans, pushing your hair out of your face and wrapping it around his fist. “You’re lucky you’re so fucking good at this!” He grits between his teeth slowly rocking his pelvis as he holds you in place, your cheeks hollowing around him as you suck.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you quickly try to silence it with your free hand before Colson hears but it’s too late; he lets out an annoyed groan and you know he heard it— Knows who it is . You distract him, sucking him harder, faster and cupping his balls — you know he loves it when you play with them. He’s told you on occasion that your head game is so good it could make him forget his own name; you’re just hoping now that it’s good enough to forget your boyfriend just texted in the middle of it, because the last thing you wanna do is talk about it … again.

************

Long after you’ve swallowed him down, you’re content with yourself thinking just maybe you really did make him forget about the mid-head text from your boyfriend when all of a sudden he springs it on you. “Did you text him back?”

“Who?” You feign innocence.

“Y/N don’t play stupid, you know who!”

“Oh, Scotty?”

“Yes, fuckin-Scotty. Who else?”

“Yeah, I just said ‘sorry I missed your text I was at church.”

“CHURCH!” Colson chokes out a laugh. “Just because you were on your knees on a Sunday morning , doesn’t count as church. Why can’t you just tell him the truth and break up with him already?”

“He’s my best friend's brother. It’s complicated. She made me promise I wouldn’t break his heart.”

“Sooo fuckin’ me behind his back is your solution to that?”

“Until I can figure out a way to let him down easy and not destroy my relationship with my best friend, yeah.”

“Solid plan,” he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Be a shame if he found out about us before then.”

“You wouldn’t!” You can’t tell if you're scolding or pleading .

“I might,” he smirks.

“Colson, please!” —Pleading, you’re definitely pleading.

“Oh, relax Y/N, I’m not gonna tell him— maybe just help the poor fuck figure it out on his own.

*********

By noon he’s got you on your knees again— hands and knees to be exact, pushing into you from behind.

“Oh fuck Colson, just like that!”

“Yeah, you like this dick, huh? Better than Scotty’s I bet!” He grips your hips roughly and snaps his hips forward. “Who fucks you better, him or me?” He taunts.

“You!” You answer without hesitation. He knows it’s the truth you’ve often complained about having to fake it with Scotty.

Just then your phone goes off blaring Scotty's ringtone

“Speak of the devil… Answer it!” He demands.

“Colson are you —?”

“I’m not playing — answer it or I’m not gonna let you finish!”

“Fuck— fine.” You reach down off the bed to the floor to retrieve your phone, while Colson keeps a firm grip on your waist, making sure he stays buried in your warm cunt. “Hel-lo” you answer, failing miserably to disguise how out of breath you are.

“Y/N? You alright?” Scotty questions.

“Sorry… umm yeah. I just—” you pause to suppress a moan “— I just ran to grab the phone.”

“Oh ok, I was just calling cuz the guys wanna take me out next weekend for my birthday but I didn’t know if you had anything planned for us already?”

Oh fuck, his birthday— you completely forgot. “Well… yeah, I did” you lie. “But it’s okay, go with your friends we can do something the weekend after.” You already have plans to attend one of Colson’s bands gigs this weekend anyways.

“Thanks, babe. You’re the best!”

Colson’s blood boils at the pet name. “Fuck” he drives his hips into you as hard as he can. Your teeth pierce into your lip as you bite back a moan.

“What was that!?” Scotty asks.

“The TV,” you answer quickly.

“Mmmm, you are so bad, baby,” Colson whispers into your flesh as he kisses between your shoulder blades. “I can tell you’re close, don’t hang up til you cum.”

“Oh whatcha watching?” Scotty inquires.

“Ummm… Horror movie— shit!” You choke out.

Colson brushes your hair of the nape of your neck and nuzzles into the crook.“C’mon baby, cum for me,”

“Must be really scary— you seem on edge.”

If he only knew how close to the edge you actually are right now .

“Yeah it’s really s— oh FUCK holy shit!” You scramble to hang up the phone as your orgasm hits; Colson’s following moments later.

“Uhh, Y/N! Fuck!” His moans are loud and exaggerated.

“I already hung up, dipshit!” You playfully punch him

In the arm after he pulls out.

You pick your phone back up and shoot Scotty a text ‘sorry, jump scare. I accidentally hung up.’

********************

“Five minutes til stage.” A voice announces from behind the backstage curtain. Today’s the day of Colson’s band's big gig, and coincidentally Scotty’s birthday.

“Perfect timing.” Colson smirks as he pulls his pants back up over his ass and you button your top. “Nothing like a little backstage quickie, before a show.” He kisses you then heads to the stage; you take side stage, hanging out near the crew and equipment.

“How we all doing tonight?!” Colson shouts into the mic. The crowd cheers lively in response. “Aight, that’s what I like to hear! I’m gonna start out with a new song about someone special; the sexiest little sex kitten I know!” He looks to you. “Y/N get your sexy little ass up here!”

You blush as you climb the few stairs that lead to the stage taking Colson’s outreached hand and he pulls you up. Your stomach sloshes with nerves and excitement, simultaneously eager to hear Colson’s song about you and concerned about this getting back to Scotty somehow. You try to push Scotty to the back of your mind and just enjoy Colson song about you … until it starts —

“Scotty doesn't know that Y/N and me

Do it in my van every Sunday

She tells him she's in church but she doesn't go

Still she's on her knees and Scotty doesn't know ”

Oh, Scotty doesn't know

So don't tell Scotty

Scotty doesn't know

So don't tell Scotty”

Your hand flies up to cover your gaping mouth as he continues to sing— each line more divulging than the last. You can’t help but laugh and decide to throw caution to the wind at this point and begin to jump and dance along. Colson sneaks up behind you as he reveals more and more of your secrets into the mic, wrapping a hand around your neck as he snaps his hips forward against your ass.

“I can't believe he's so trusting

While I'm right behind you thrusting

Y/N’s got him on the phone

And she's trying not to moan

It's a three-way call and he knows nothing, nothing”

It’s as Colson sings one of the songs most incriminating lines—“I did her on his birthday” — that you notice a familiar face in the crowd making their way to the front. “Which is today by the way” he ad libs.

“SCOTTY!!” You gasp.

“Oh shit it’s Scotty!” Colson announces and then opts for a lyric change — “Scotty does know , Scotty does know!”

#machine gun kelly #colson baker #mgk #colson baker smut #machine gun kelly smut #mgk smut #colson baker fanfic #machine gun kelly fanfic #mgk fanfic #xx

182 notes · View notes

plaidbooks · 3 years ago

Text

Rough Beginnings

A/N: So! This idea spawned after reading @cycat-carisi story, We. Please read that first, then come back here for this prequel! This also covers the Mafia square in @adarafaelbarba moodboard bingo!

Tags: mentions of a prostitution ring, talks of murder and mafia-related goings-on

Words: 1964

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

(gif by @resparza )

Sonny never hated his job more than when he went undercover. He had hated when he was posing as a homeless man with an eye for children, but this was worse. So. Much. Worse.

His cover story for this job was that he was part of the Italian mob, and he had been hired on as security for a prostitution ring; some huge network that was international but had its roots right here in Manhattan. Him, along with multiple real mafia members, were in charge of transporting girls, drugs, and anything else the head honcho told them to.

It had been three months since he went under; his beard itched his face still, his leather jacket was starting to be uncomfortable, and he wanted nothing more than to take all of these bastards down. But they didn’t have enough yet. So, he had to stick it out a little longer—at least, that’s what he told himself. A little longer, a little longer. He wasn’t sure how much “little longer” he had left in him.

Sonny lived in the housing quarters his boss supplied him, along with three other mafia guys. He had almost zero contact with the world outside his job—all the information he gathered was sent in a coded text from a burner. But he was starting to miss his friends and family. At least his employer understood that as part of the Italian mob, Sonny was allowed to go to church on Sundays…if there wasn’t something big happening.

His saving grace came a month later, while standing guard at his boss’s door. A woman he’d seen before came stomping up to him, and he braced himself; he knew that look.

“Let me see my father,” you snarled.

Sonny rose his hands defensively. “I was given orders ta not let anyone in. That includes you,” he replied, crossing his arms once more and trying to puff out his chest. But you simply glared at him.

“Fuck you; let me in, before I force my way in,” you growled.

He chuckled, eyeing you. “Ya really think you can get passed me? Let’s see ya try, doll.”

You gave him another impressive glare before trying to lunge passed him, reaching for the handle. Sonny caught you easily around your midsection, lifting you and placing you down at arm’s length in front of him.

“That the best ya got?” he teased. This wasn’t the first time you tried to brute force your way passed him before, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. But you had a trick up your sleeve.

You let your bottom lip quiver, tears appearing in your eyes. “Pl-please, sir, let m-me see my—” you trailed off, sniffling loudly.

“Ah geez, don’t be doing that. Come on; he’s in a meeting and will be out soon. Just wait a lil, okay?” he said, a touch of pleading in his voice.

But you didn’t stop, letting the tears trail down your cheeks. You let out a loud sob, and Sonny wanted to rip his hair out; he didn’t need a tantrum with daddy’s spoiled brat right now. He internally winced at that; he didn’t really believe that that was what you were, but when you came up here, trying to cry your way in, his mind went there.

You let out another loud sob. “Please, doll, I promise ta let him know as soon as he’s free—” Sonny started, but he was cut off by the door behind him opening. He stood at attention—like a good little lapdog—and the man who was having a meeting with his employer came out. He took one look at you, then left, rolling his eyes. You quickly wiped your face with your shirt before your dad appeared.

“And what are you doing here?” your father asked, annoyance dripping from his voice.

Sonny felt bad for you, but said nothing, gave away no emotions on his face as you requested to speak with him, privately.

He nodded, and Sonny moved out of the way, letting you enter, the door closing softly behind you both. He released a breath; it was always high tension after a meeting. But Sonny also found himself feeling sorry for you, having a father like that. He was hoping that when the walls came down, you’d at least be spared; you had no real idea of your father’s business, how big and deep it ran.

The meeting between you and your father didn’t last long, and soon enough, the door was opening once more behind him.

“Sonny; drive my daughter home. Giuliano will cover you until you're back,” your father ordered.

Sonny nodded, letting you pass him before following you. He kept his emotions in check, but he saw the look on your face; sadness, betrayal, and fear. He vaguely wondered what you had talked about but didn’t want to pry; he could be fired or worse for it.

It wasn’t until halfway through the drive to your place that he asked if you were okay.

“Fantastic,” you muttered, staring out the window.

Sonny wasn’t sure why he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut; the words just spilled out. “Ya father is a hard man. I’m sorry ya have ta deal with that.” It was a mistake, he knew; if you were indeed loyal to your father, then saying that out loud was a good way to end up dead.

You blinked in surprise at his bluntness, and for his apology. “Y—yeah, he is. I wouldn’t let him catch you saying that, though.”

He nodded. “Uh, how ‘bout makin’ it our little secret, then?” he asked, hoping beyond hope that you’d say nothing about this to him.

“Our little secret…. Yeah, okay,” you replied dryly, eyes going back to the window.

*******************

After that conversation, Sonny’s boss would often send him to you, whether to drive you or as extra protection—more like babysitting, to Sonny. But he found that he couldn’t complain; it was the only time he could be close to his true self…plus it was safer and better than doing other, illicit things. Even if he should be doing those things for intel. And of course, he never slipped up like he had on that first car ride. No, he was Sonny from the Italian mob, not the soft-hearted detective. He held you at arm’s length, determined to not let the mask slip. But something about you got to him, and he found himself afraid of you. Afraid that he’d make a mistake, and that you would see right through him.

“Sonny, why do you do this job?” you asked one day while he was driving you home. It had been over a month since your father had basically assigned Sonny to you.

He tried to stay neutral, but you saw how he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “’Cause it’s a job. I was hired.”

“That’s a bullshit answer and you know it,” you replied, smiling.

His jaw tightened. “Nah, see, when my boss tells me ta do somethin’, I do it.”

“You’re not like the rest, though. The others, I see murder in their eyes. They have such dark thoughts; it’s almost like they’re hoping my father gives them a kill order,” you explained. True, your father told you that they were security guards for his business, but you never bought that story; they were more like murderers than security. The day when Sonny kept you out of your father’s office was the first time you noticed that he was different; his eyes were soft, and he talked to you like a person, rather than making vaguely concealed threats. He seemed to genuinely care when you started to fake cry, even though you knew that he knew it was fake.

His bright blue eyes met with yours in the rearview mirror for a brief moment before flicking back to the road. “We don’t kill—”

“Stop lying to me, Sonny. Please. I deserve to know what’s going on,” you said, a slight begging tone in your voice.

So that confirmed it; you had no idea what your father was capable of. Sonny swallowed, wanting this conversation to end. “Talk ta ya father, not me—”

“I’ve tried! Multiple times! I’m not an idiot; I know he’s shady as hell. But just what are you protecting?”

“If he’s not willin’ ta tell ya, then that should tell ya somethin’, right?” he asked. He pulled over in front of your art studio, putting the car in park and getting out. You thought about his words; it was more than you got from anyone else. To be honest, Sonny always gave you more than anyone else; he didn’t sneer at you, ignore you, call you names like “brat”. And he definitely didn’t look at you with hungry eyes or creepy smiles. He seemed like…like a generally good person, all things considered. You weren’t sure when it had happened, but you noticed you had developed a crush on him.

All too soon, Sonny was opening the door for you to get out. You thanked him as you exited the car, and felt his presence behind you as you climbed the stairs to the door. He always walked you there, to make sure you were safe.

You unlocked and opened the door, then turned around to face him. He gave you a nod and you thanked him again. But something possessed you in that moment; why else would you have grabbed his shirt and pulled him to you in a kiss?

Sonny froze in place, eyes wide, before he placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you back. You looked up at him, the apology dying on your tongue; you weren’t sorry at all. That kiss was worth it in your eyes. But there was an almost…pained? look in Sonny’s eyes.

“D-doll, we can’t—ya father—”

“Never has to know,” you finished for him.

He blinked, obviously warring with himself, and you were sure you knew why; if your father found out about you two, he could have Sonny killed. But, if Sonny felt the same way about you that you did about him, then maybe, just maybe, he could help you escape from under your father. Something about him was safe, trustworthy.

Slowly, you reached up to cup his face. When he didn’t pull away, you gently leaned in again, kissing him slowly, tenderly. He paused for only a moment before he melted against your lips. Then he gently pulled away from you.

“I—I gotta—” He didn’t finish his thought before he turned and hurried down the stairs. You watched him go, hoping that he’d say nothing to your father.

The car door slammed shut and Sonny was quick to turn the car on and leave. What the fuck was he doing, letting you kiss him? And then he kissed you back?! He must be a fucking idiot! Sure, he liked you—more than he was willing to admit—but this could blow his cover. Not to mention get him killed, cover blown or not. Plus, he was lying to you; any feelings you felt weren’t for him but for the façade he put on.

He resolved to keep his distance from you; nothing good could come from any of this. It ended in one of two ways: you, heartbroken over Sonny’s lies, or him buried six feet under in some lot. There was no way to disobey your father if he ordered him to take you home, so there was no avoiding you. Sonny would just have to lay down the rules next time he saw you; absolutely no relationship could exist, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #adarafaelbarbaseptemberbingo

72 notes · View notes

9layerdevilfoodcake · 4 years ago

Text

Some Of A Kind

Chapter 1: Virgin in the Chapel

(Michael Langdon x reader)

Summary: When you accompany your friend to a black mass at the Church of Satan. You pick the wrong time and place to let him in on the fact that you’re a virgin, garnering the attention of the ‘chosen one’ himself.

Warnings: murder, mentions of drug use, poorly represented Satanism

Word count: 3,666 (that’s right)

It was a typical Wednesday night when you got a text from your friend Tyler.

‘So what do you say? Is tonight the night?’

He had been bugging you for weeks to come see a sacrifice at the satanic church. And since the first time he asked, the conversation always went the same way.

“I’m telling you, just one slice and then you can have whatever you want”

“You mean I can have powers beyond compare?”

“Yes” he answered back, in a hopeful tone. Clearly he hadn’t picked up on the sarcasm in your voice.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the excitement in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you do whatever you want over there with your edgelords but I’m perfectly happy in my boring powerless existence”

“First of all we aren’t edgelords, we're satanists. We just see the world for what it is. A dreadful place full of selfish people.”

“Well I can’t say I argue with that”

“Exactly, so give in to being selfish, and start doing what you want. You work so hard, and for what a one bedroom apartment you can barely afford and bags under your eyes that are only getting bigger by the day?”

“Hey” you interrupt, slightly offended. Which only earns a laugh on his end.

“I’m just saying, you put in so much effort for no pay off, when you could do this one thing and have everything you deserve”

“What a cable package and a ‘skip the line’ pass at Disneyland?”

“I also get unlimited snacks!”

“Oh sorry how could I forget, well if one soul is all it takes to get a free waffle cone then what are we still doing here?!” You ask back, your tone full of mockery.

“Have you ever wondered why I can snort as much coke as I want and have never OD��d? Or why every girl I bring home is a certified 10?”

Actually you had, the two of you had met the year prior in a religious studies class when you were partnered to write a paper on whether morality was dependent on a god. He could barely get through a sentence without tripping over his words or looking away in embarrassment. It was sweet really, and by the end of the class you two had basically become best friends.

But about 2 months ago things started to change. There was almost always a girl leaving his house when you would come over.

You swore at least two of them you recognized from Victoria Secret runways.

One night you even saw a man leaving whose resemblance to Ryan Reynolds was suspiciously uncanny.

He got a new car without any explanation as to where he got the money, and he had so much coke in his living room you assumed he started dealing, before he told you it was just his stash for the weekend.

At first he was vague about everything, but eventually he told you the truth, or at least what you assumed was a version of it.

For his final project he wrote a research paper on the church of Satan.

You went with him to a couple of services when he was writing it, him being too nervous to go alone.

You both thought they seemed a little kooky, but relatively harmless.

Yet what you didn’t know was that he kept going back after the class ended and had gotten himself sworn in, and eventually given the honor of participating in a black mass.

Where he had sacrificed a school teacher in order to get these new “gifts”.

Now you weren’t naive enough to think he actually killed someone!

You were sure his new lifestyle was a part of some religious Ponzi scheme, and one day the debt collector would come calling.

You’ve watched enough documentaries to know better than to get involved with this.

But he is still your friend so you take it upon yourself to be supportive and let him have his moment, while simultaneously letting him know you’ll be here for him if the day comes that he gets excommunicated.

“I love you and I am so happy for all you’ve gotten, especially when you share it with me, but I’m good, really. I’ll let you know if I ever change my mind”

That dropped the subject for a while.

That is until a few days ago when you lost your job.

Well actually when your job was stolen from underneath you by your boss's son.

All it took was one night of bitching to your best friend for the talks of satanism to start up again.

So here you were bored on a Wednesday night actually considering his offer to watch a black mass.

‘Well…’

He texted back after a few minutes of no response on your part

‘Fine’

It’s not like he’s ever going to let up, you might as well go see what all the hubbub was about.

After he picked you up, you made your way to the church.

More precisely the back alley with a hidden door. Not at all unsettling.

And the rain pelting down on the robe he gave you just adds a nice ominese touch to what you're sure is going to be a long night.

Now inside you sit in a pew in the back. While the choir above you sings as the others file in.

They actually sound pretty good if you’re being honest. Maybe on your way out you’ll pick up the album you saw for sale in the lobby (for $6.66 no less).

You haven’t been sitting more than 10 minutes before the mass begins.

And in that time Tyler roughly explained what you were about to see.

You weren’t paying too much attention though. More enamored with the atmosphere.

It was a sea of red cloaks and black pentagrams. And the thunder outside appeared to clap along in sync with the crescendo or the choir.

This place seems vastly different from the shabby collection of misfits you encountered when you visited the first time. Who spent most of the service complaining and handed you a stale donut on your way out the door.

“...Y/n are your listening?!”

“Hmm Yea”

“Really?”

“Yea the guy’s gonna sacrifice some ‘innocent soul’ say a few hail satans and voilà he gets his hair back and starts getting laid again” you answer back, waving him off. You’re more interested in watching two Satanists in the front of the room give each other the “sign of the cross” gesture in reverse order.

“This is serious, the things you see might shock you but you can not react! If they think you’re some sort of threat to our secrets or even just afraid of them, it won’t end well. I’m kind of taking a risk by bringing you here”

That brings your attention back to your friend.

“So you hound me for weeks to come with you, but I’m not even allowed to be here?” You ask back, starting to wonder why you actually said yes to this.

“Well yea, I just really want you to see what I’ve seen, I want what’s best for you”

That was actually really sweet of him.

Now you felt a little bad for making fun of this so much.

That is until you see a man in the next row pull out a flask with “unholy water” written on it and rub it on his chest like Vick’s.

But before you get the chance to ask Tyler where he keeps his flask(which you're certain he has). The choir stops singing and the Priestess has the room's attention.

Everything goes as Tyler explains at first.

The “sacrifices” are brought in in their underwear. (They couldn’t even keep their clothes on, what does the devil give them a level up if the victims are humiliated before they die?) and tonight's chosen one, Phil, is about to take his position, before you hear a voice behind you.

“Wait!”

You turn your head to see an older woman rushing in, but it’s not her that steals your focus it’s who walks in behind her.

He is quite possibly the most attractive person you have ever seen. With cheekbones that could slice butter and soft blonde hair falling around icy blue eyes.

She says his name is Michael and this honor belongs to him.

You look over to Tyler to see what’s going on. He didn’t explain what part of the performance this was, was this some sort of second act surprise?

You were expecting this night to follow like a church service, watching Phil take his vows and minimal audience participation. Now you wonder if this is all rehearsed, or if the Satanist’s are partial to improv?

But Tyler pays you no mind, he can’t take his eyes off the blonde either.

It’s not until the Priestess mentions the “mark of the beast” and that he is the chosen one, that you get why Tyler is looking at him like he’s some sort of god.

Because to him he is, this guy is supposed to be the Antichrist.

Tyler says nothing only glances in your direction when he sees you’re the only one still standing, before he pulls you down to your knee like everyone else.

The rest of the performance is really top notch.

The flickering of the lights was a nice touch, but you can’t help but feel a little uneasy wondering how they keep getting the thunder to time up with everything they do.

Plus the bodies of the sacrifices fell to the ground almost too well.

How did they manage to get their bodies to look that lifeless, and why did those cuts look so deep?

But you try not to focus too much on it as you walk to the ceremonial Wednesday night potluck.

After the Antichrist has dismissed his followers from fawning all over him, you sit with Tyler at the end of the table and dig into your lasagna.

“So does the antichrist part happen at every sacrifice or is this one special? Is it some Satanic holiday I wasn’t aware of?” You ask, breaking Tyler out of whatever trance he appears to be stuck in.

“What?”

“I gotta say the dramatics were very entertaining, but if you really wanted to get me here all you had to do was tell me the guy who plays the Antichrist is really hot” you snicker under your breath.

“Play? Y/n your don’t understand he IS the Antichrist” he explains in a hushed voice before continuing

“That doesn’t happen every time, he really has come. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for! Don’t you see?! I think it was fate you came here on this night!”

“Ha, why do you need a virgin to sacrifice or something?” You laugh and take another bite before you look over and see Tyler staring at you with wide eyes.

“What?”

“You’re not serious are you?”

“Well yea, what’s the big deal, I didn’t realize you were so caught up on a social construct”

“I’m not, but you can’t say things like that around here” he looks around the room nervously and you follow his path of vision until your eyes land on Michael, who’s own gaze is locked on you.

There’s no way he heard you, you were across the room and you were whispering.

Still he continues to stare with eyes that speak only of intensity. No smile, no nod, no hint emotion whatsoever.

It’s only after you raise your brows and mouth a “What?” That he looks back down at his plate with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Oh Satan, I think he heard you. You should go” Tyler’s tone becoming more erratic by the second.

“What?” You’re sure he's joking, but when he looks at you there is nothing but worry in his eyes.

Now you’re starting to get nervous, this is too far.

He actually thinks these people are going to do something?

He’s practically shaking with fear, and because of the man in the turtleneck? Who barely knows how to hold a spoon?

Okay you’ll play along for tonight, but tomorrow you are having a serious talk, he might need professional help.

“Alright let's go then” you huff out as you start to grab your belongings.

“I can’t just leave, especially since our savior is here, but I’ll make sure everything is good and you’re not followed or anything”

“Okay, is there some sort of satanic shuttle bus that can take me home? Or should I call an Uber? Does this place have an address or should I just send them an inverted cross?”

Still unamused by your inability to grasp the gravity of the situation, he just shakes his head and hands you his keys.

“Here just take my car, I’ll get a ride later, in fact stay at my house incase you’re followed”

He’s basically pushing you out of your seat and nodding to the door.

“Okay...bye I guess”

And with that you take off down the hall.

You know you’re supposed to go straight to the car. You’ve never seen Tyler look so serious in his life.

But when you walk past the chapel you can’t help but stop. You can still see the bodies up at the altar.

Why are they still there? Was there a trap door you missed and these were just doubles?

Or were these people so committed to the role and as crazy as your friend that they had to stay in the character of “dead sacrifice” all night?

Curiosity got the better of you, the car could wait, you had to see for yourself.

Closer inspection did nothing to stifle your suspicions.

It looked so real.

They weren’t breathing, so there was no way they were still the two actors, but you had never seen fake bodies look so real.

You're reminded of an anatomy class you took last semester.

Those cadavers looked suspiciously close to these.

Just colder and with less life left in their faces.

And there was so much blood, the iron was thick in the air.

But that couldn’t be true. Your friend wouldn’t kill someone would he?

He didn’t actually think they would kill you?

If you got a closer look, if you just swiped some of the “blood” with your pointer finger it would surely taste like corn syrup and not like…

“Are you afraid?”

You whip your head around, blood still staining your finger and beginning to drip onto the linoleum. To see Michael walking in the same way he had an hour earlier. Only this time without the cloak, but with some newly added confidence.

“They’re really dead aren’t they?” You know it’s true, but you still wait for his confirmation.

“Yes, that tends to happen when you slice someone’s throat” He acts as if this shouldn’t be a shock to you. It didn’t shock any of the other members of the congregation. Yet you know without him saying it, that he’s well aware you’re not like the others. That you don’t belong here.

“So you really sacrifice people, just to get stuff” you blurt out. Still trying to wrap your head around the fact that everything you witnessed tonight was real. Perhaps you shouldn’t have taken that last crescent roll you’d seen another satanist eyeing at dinner, you definitely have a curse coming your way. That is if you live through the night.

“Well not me” Michael says, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

“Oh of course, you’re the one they do it for”

“Well my father more specifically”

“Does that upset you?” You know you should be more careful about how you proceed with this conversation, but the words leave your mouth before your mind can stop them.

The question seems to catch him by surprise as he ruffles his brow, you’re not sure if it’s in anger or just shock at your brazenness. But he doesn’t answer. Just goes on to question you.

“Have you ever witnessed a murder before?”

“No”

“How did you feel watching it before your eyes?”

“Well I didn’t feel much, considering I thought it was all fake” That earns you a smile from him.

“And how do you feel now?”

“Curious”

“Really? Not scared?”

“No. Why should I be?” You’re really digging your own grave here. But your mouth seems to have a mind of its own.

“It seems your friend would say otherwise”

“Ah so you did hear.” You say, seeing his smile grow wider. “These aren't the days of the Old Testament, virginity doesn’t equally purity. Just ask sacrifice number one over there, with a body like that I doubt she was a virgin” you laugh, partially at your joke and partially out of sheer uncomfortableness. Michael doesn’t even spare the bodies a glance, eyes latched onto you, you go on to add

“I’m no saint. Despite my sexual history, or lack thereof”

“No, I’m sure you’re not” he emphasizes by swiping some of the liquid from your finger with his own, before taking it into his mouth. Making a show of it by closing his eyes as he releases it from his lips, slow as molasses. Smiling when he opens his eyes and sees you’re practically drooling.

Before his little show can go any further, you continue with your own questions.

“Have you killed people before?”

“Yes”

“How many?”

“You don’t have the time”

He’s looking at you waiting for your response. Waiting for the shock to subside and the shrieks of terror to take over.

Instead you just pause thinking everything over.

You should be scared, you know you should.

In one night you have watched two people die, found out your friend is a murderer, and that the Antichrist is not only NOT a myth, but is standing in front of you, conversing with you like he’s nothing more than your new neighbor.

Yet you search and search in your mind for any hint of fear and come up empty. All you feel is curiosity. You must be losing it too, you feel bad for judging Tyler so harshly. Maybe it’s his youthful face and the little outburst in the dining hall earlier, but Michael seems like more than simply the ‘incarnation of evil’. He seems so...human.

And more than anything he just seems confused and dare you say, lost.

“Do you like killing people? Or do you do it because it’s expected?”

“It depends”

“Would you like to kill me?”

Now it’s his turn to take pause, looking like he’s trying to decide if he’s “in the mood” to take your life.

“Not right now”

You can’t help but laugh at that (yea you’re definitely in shock). Soon enough he joins in too, and the mood feels lighter than it has all night. You might even say you feel comfortable.

That is until the laughter subsides and you meet his eyes. He’s now staring at you with the same intensity you’d met earlier at dinner.

It’s like he’s looking right through you, into your soul. You feel on display and more than anything afraid of what he might find.

“Stop that”

“Stop what?” He says with a playful tone and a tilt of his head.

“You’re..well..I don’t know what you’re doing but I don’t like it. You’re trying to get a read on me or something.”

He just smiles at that, because of course he does.

You know there is no avoiding playing into his hand. He wants to get a rise out of you, in one way or another.

“And what do yo-”

“Y/N!”

At the mention of your name you both turn to see Tyler standing in the doorway.

Antichrist or not, the look Michael gives him is enough to send a wave of fear up your spine.

He appears as though he’s about to snap his neck through just a look(and you're afraid to find out if he could).

Noticing his anger, Tyler stops and bows before Michael, apologizing incessantly for interrupting him.

You don’t miss the twitch of Michael’s lips. He’s clearly loving the effects he has on his followers.

You just roll your eyes at your friend.

“Calm down Tyler, get up”

He just let’s your words pass over him as if you hadn’t even spoken. If he hadn’t been the one to call your name a moment ago, you wouldn’t be sure he even knew you were in the room.

Every sense he had was aimed at Michael, and it was only when his precious dark lord gave him a nod that he got up and looked your way again.

“What are you doing? I thought you were going home?” He says through clenched teeth.

If he weren’t so worried about keeping you alive he would be pissed at you for not listening.

“I was. I am” you reassure him turning to Michael.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Michael, I’ll see myself out”

You are scurrying out of the room, grabbing a frozen Tyler and tugging him along with you, when Michael calls after you.

“No y/n, the pleasure was all mine.”

You’re at the end of the hall, and in the middle of Tyler’s scolding session, when you realize there is still blood on your finger.

It feels like it’s vibrating where Michael touched you, begging you to take notice.

Just wipe it on your jeans, you tell yourself.

Wait until you get to the car and find a napkin.

Do anything rational other than what you're thinking.

As you pass through the exit door, you cave and take a taste of the crimson on your finger.

Although you can’t see him, you know Michael is smiling. You can feel his smugness in the air around you and you're sure he knows what you just did.

This started out just as me wanting to make some jokes about Michael and the Satanists and has somehow turned into a multi-chapter fic. I still don’t really know where it’s going I’m just letting it take on a mind of it’s own. If it looks familiar it’s cuz it’s been on ao3 for a little bit now, so sorry it’s not a “new” new story! If you liked it that makes me very happy, and if not I hope it was at least entertaining! Either way thank you for reading!

(I wasn’t sure who wanted to be tagged just in my Xavier fic and who did in general so I didn’t add a tag list to this one)

#Michael langdon x reader #Michael langdon #ahs apocalypse #far too much sarcasm

146 notes · View notes

sif-the-tsunami · 4 years ago

Text

When you fall apart

But this ain’t my mama’s broken heart.

Warnings: Yes, all of them. No smut all angst. and no promise of a happy ending. gallows humor, pregnancy loss, infidelity, self medication, spicy language.

Summary: Sy is a cheating bastard and his wife has had enough.

Pairing: Syverson, now a Colonel and his long suffering wife Josephine. (marriage is great guys, I promise.)

Just over 3,300 words.

This might not have been what you were expecting @oddsnendsfanfics

My mother was a genuine Southern debutante, I grew up with pictures of her on the walls with her gorgeous smile and pretty pearl necklaces. Blonde hair and green eyed, she was the most beautiful little slice of American apple pie. Her daddy was the ‘Old Money’ type, and she was his finest accomplishment, she looked, behaved, spoke perfectly. Never once have I heard that woman raise her voice to a man. Hell, I never heard her pass gas in front of anyone for that matter. She is the picture of privilege, she went from her daddy’s house to her sorority house to her husband’s house. Some how, even though she smokes a pack a day, she still looks like she could pass for being forty instead of almost sixty. The last time we saw each other, my friends told me they didn’t know I had an older sister.

Mama married a gentleman who had the good sense to enlist in the military to help support the lifestyle she demanded he provide for her. He was never around much but he gave her a nice house with a lovely front yard, and two little perfect children. He was another one of the old Southern types, I don’t think he ever outright said “I love you, Josephine,” or “I’m proud of you, girl.” Looking back, I don’t think anyone ever did that for him either, so he probably didn’t know how to tell that to me or my brother Theodore. I’m almost sure that he and Mama loved each other once upon a time. Daddy worked hard, he broke his body serving his country, and when he couldn’t do that anymore he broke his own heart trying to please Mama. She must have been disappointed in how her life turned out. She might have had dreams once, when she was younger. I’m pretty sure the last of them were crushed when Daddy died balls deep in the woman who used to perm my Mama’s hair.

Mama played the grieving widow perfectly, not a single person knew that they had been miserable for years. She has worn black out in public ever since. I think the only thing that has really changed is that she has started day drinking now because she’s lonely. I don’t blame her really. She pushed us really hard to be as perfect outwardly as she is, so it is safe to say that she is really disappointed in your truly.

You might be wondering why this all matters, dear reader. However, I find that it is important for you to know this when I tell you I’m remembering this sitting here in the county sheriff’s office, waiting on my Mama to come pick me up because my probably soon to be ex-husband and I got into screaming match, and I may have drunkenly thrown my bottle of tequila at my probably soon to be ex-husband’s head. The details are a little fuzzy at the moment.

“Josephine Syverson, your mother is here to pick you up.” The Sheriff’s deputy starts in his slow drawl, “Now don’t you go pickin’ no fights with your husband. You’re lucky he ain’t pressing charges. Go sleep it off now, Ma’am. I’m sure you two kids will work it out.”

I wait until he can’t see my face to roll my eyes. And low and behold, there she is, my Mama drove four hours to come and pick me up. She’s in a black vintage driving coat, and her hair is covered by a dark gray satin bonnet. It doesn’t matter that it is half past midnight, she is still the beauty queen she has always been. I drank enough Jose Cuervo tonight that my head is still swimming, but I walk with the grace and dignity she taught me.

“Oh my Lord, Josie, what have you done to yourself?” She asks. “Thank you, officers, I’ll get her back on track.”

We make our way out to the car and Mama unlocks the door for me. I slide in and as soon as my butt hits the leather of her seats, I start crying all over again. She gives me the packet of tissues she keeps in her purse then hands a little make-up bag.

“So, what was is this time, Josie, I swear to Lord Jesus that if he laid a hand on you, your brother and I will bury him in the back yard.” She says turning on her Cadillac. “Get cleaned up, you are coming home with me. Maybe James will be smart enough to figure out where you went.”

“Mama?” Who was this woman? She never talks like this.

“Come on, your mama isn’t as dumb as she looks. Although he evidently is.” She lights up a cigarette and offers me one.

“I quit when we started trying… Even after… well… everything, I didn’t start back up.”

She pats my leg. I unzip the bag to find makeup wipes, mascara, face powder and some brick red lipstick. We might not get along all the time but she is a damn life saver. I have black rivers of my own eyeliner and mascara from earlier today streaking my face. I clean myself up as much as I can and then reapply some make-up. “There, now that you are looking better, tell me what happened...”

“Where do you want me to start? I swear this started after his first deployment.”

“Okay, Josie, start there.”

James Syverson is an Army Ranger, I met him after he finished officers school. Because of the nature of military special forces, they deploy more often than most jobs in the military. I understand that they are under a lot of pressure during these deployments and because he is in a position in leadership I opted to give him as much room as he needed. The other officer’s wives informed me that I needed to recalibrate my expectations of what could happen. They warned me that what happens on deployment shouldn’t be held against him when he gets home. And I didn’t, until a girl barely old enough to visit a bar came up to my door asking for my husband with a hand on her belly. She was just as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I just looked up Syverson in the phone book, and I didn’t know he was married.”

“Is it his?”

“Ma’am?”

“I can see that you are pregnant. Is. It. His?”

“I… I don’t know…” She said quietly.

“He is still over there. Do not come here again unless you are requesting a paternity test.” And I slammed the door shut. She did come back for the test results when he came home. Turned out that the baby wasn’t his. Small favors, right?

I never faulted the women who fell in love with him. I knew how special he could make them feel, its how I fell in love with him in the first place. After everything he’s put me through it almost doesn’t matter when it is just the two of us. All I have ever wanted was for it to be just the two of us again, but I don’t know think I can wait for him to retire.

“How many times do you think he’s done it?”

“At least once a deployment. The most recent one saw us at the movies last night. He was holding my hand like nothing had ever happened. When he was coming back from the concession stand, a little redhead stopped him and asked who he was here with. When she saw me, she looked like she saw a ghost. He came back up, handed me my pop, kissed my cheek and wrapped his arm around me. He said ‘I promise you, it is not what it looks like.’ but the bitch and her friend kept looking over their shoulders to peek at us. I saw her texting someone and then his phone vibrated, but he didn’t look at his phone until I wasn’t with him.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” She lit up again. “And you’ve just been sitting on this, the entire time?”

“Yeah, I learned from the best, Mama. I didn’t want to let you down. You taught me to never let them see me cry.”

“Oh, my baby girl...”

The rest of the night at the movies, I kept it to myself, I’ve had enough. The boiling, seething hatred I was feeling for both of them. I hate that they are always younger than me. I hate that it always makes me like I’m not enough. When I woke up this morning had a beer in the shower. I always save the last one for him, so taking the last one was a big “fuck you” to him. He tried to climb in with me until he saw me drinking in the shower.

“Woman, what are you doing?” He asked. Like he wasn’t the one who introduced me to the idea of a shower beer.

“I’m going to keep drinking ‘til my heart stops hurting, Sy. I don’t know what else to do. But whatever it is that we keep doing, I can’t keep it up anymore. Get out.” I have never denied him, no matter what he wanted. And up until this morning, I had been an amazing wife to him. In the fifteen years of marriage, he has only had to do his own laundry when he was away from home. And even then, he probable conned someone into doing it for him. I have lost almost every friend I have made from relocating so often. I have started and stopped working on my Master’s degree more times than I can count. And now here I am, mid-thirties with none of my own goals accomplished to show for all of the work I have done over the years. If I had opened my mouth, even once, about his indiscretions, he never would have made it to Colonel. Not once have I complained.

After I dried my body off, I walked into the kitchen, naked as the day I was born and grabbed my trusty kitchen sheers. I needed a change. He paused the game he was playing long enough to watch me walk past him with my scissors and the bottle of margaritas.

“Jo, it’s nine in the morning. Being a little dramatic, aren’t we? We going to church today?”

“Why, James? You’ve been yelling ‘Oh my god,’ between some whore’s legs fairly regularly, I’m sure he knows you are a big fan.” I walked away before he could reply, locking the door behind me to our bedroom. He pounded on the door a few times but got the hint that I was not in the mood to be talked to when I turned up Chris LeDoux as loud as I could play it. Then I went to go give myself bangs.

When the music fades, the house is silent. No video games, no football, nothing. I continue to drink from my bottle and the world becomes a little more tolerable. Now, I am not a heavy drinker. Sy teases me all the time about how cheap of a date I am.

“Josephine!” He snaps at me in his soldier voice and I drop the margaritas.

“Jesus fuck, Sy, why you gotta scare me like that.”

“Oh, you are the one getting scared, woman, I have never seen you act like this before.”

“That’s because you ain’t here every time one of your indiscretions comes knocking on the door of my house. Never once have I expected sainthood from you, James, I learned better after your first deployment,” he won’t look me in the eye, either he’s ashamed of what he’s been doing or he is going to punch a whole in the wall tonight. “You would have seen this if you had been around after my daddy died. This is your wife, Syverson, she goes a little crazy from time to time.

“You know how hard I tried to come home for that, that is not fair Josephine.”

“I’m sure you did try. I wish you would try a little harder when it comes to picking out these dumb sluts who think that you are just going to run away from home as soon as you come back from the sandbox. I have received notes on my car windshield telling me that you were going to leave me for them. How you loved them and you were just suffering with me. That I’m hateful, and spiteful, and they could treat you so much better then I ever could. What have you been telling these girls, James, for them to think I am some kind of monster? Haven’t I been a good wife to you? What did I do to you to make you hate me this much?”

“I had no idea that they were doing that. I don’t hate you, baby. You have been a better wife than I probably could have ever deserved. Is that what you want to hear? I know I’m a rotten bastard. How long have you been holding this in, Josie?” His face darkens, I can see all the rage boiling up in him too.

“Don’t you call me that name, you son of a bitch.” I spit at him.

“How long?”

“Since Cassandra came up holding her belly, waiting to tell you that she made you a daddy. Too bad it wasn’t the first time, or I actually might have been worried that you’d leave. I hadn’t even stopped bleeding yet before she tried to take you.” I snarled back at him. And he face drops. Twelve years ago, we tried. I was seven months pregnant when I lost our son. Sy’s squad was wiped out after a night of heavy combat. He barely made it out alive himself. I got a phone call about his injuries and I must have made a deal with the devil himself. I would put up with the womanizing, the long distance, the heartache, just please have him come up to me. I would give anything to save him, I had thought. An hour after I got the call that he had woken up and was safely on a ship in the Mediterranean sea, I started to go into early labor.

“Oh, fuck me. That long?” He whispers. He rubs his face, the stubble was getting long, unless he was out in the field, he kept himself within regulations. He reached out to hold me but I shrug off his touch. He walked away from me, thinking that maybe he might let me calm down and we would go back to being a picture perfect couple again. He could just do whatever he wanted and I will grin and bare it.

I cleaned up the mess I made then went back to the bedroom to put on something on me other than shame. We gave each other space until the evening came around. He came in to ask if I had any plans for dinner. Wrong question, buddy. I walked to the kitchen in my tight black yoga pants and a tank top, went to the liquor cabinet, grabbed my favorite bottle of tequila and took three long gulps.

“That’s my plan, worry about yourself.”

“You haven’t had any real food today, you need to eat something.”

“Eat my ass, Colonel.” With that he pins me to the wall, the room spins around me and I start thrashing against him. He’s got probably 100lbs on me and more combative training than I can remember, so as you can well imagine this is going super great for me. I stop long enough to see the tears forming in his eyes. “Was there ever anything special between us, did you keep any part of yourself just for me?”

“Josephine, you are the only woman I have ever loved. I never even implied that I had any feelings towards them. They knew from the beginning it was simply recreational. Jo, you know you are my best friend.”

“Then why do you keep hurting me? Why am I not enough, Sy? Why do they keep getting you at your best, and I have to put all of your broken pieces back together again when you finally do come home.” Remember every time he woke up screaming the names of his fallen friends. When we have to leave BBQ’s early on the 4th of July because the fireworks remind him of mortar shells.

“You are enough. You are more than enough. I couldn’t have made it this far without you. It has never been anything other than stress relief with them.” The first tear rolls down his cheek. “I love you, Pussycat, now please lets get some food in you. Are you going to be good?”

“Haven’t I always been good. Been good, but not good enough.” I whine and slide down the wall once his hands are off of me. Good lord, where the hell is my dignity.

He lets me go gently and leaves to make me a peanut butter sandwich. While his back is turned, I grab the bottle one more time and take another long swig. This is where the rest of my night is very fuzzy until I came to in the back of the squad car.

He evidently tried to take the bottle from me, I threw it at him, it went wide and smashed against the wall. He took me to the ground, just tried to keep me from hurting either of us and I screamed at him every vile thing I could think of until the sheriff showed up. They tried to take him in, seeing that I was a sobbing mess on the floor. I told them I tried to hurt him, so they handcuffed me and took me in. Before they drove off, James brought a sweater and my purse out for me. I watched a couple of nosy housewives standing at the end of their drive ways. I’m pretty sure I flipped them the bird and they looked at me with disgust.

Now I’m sitting here, in Mama’s Cadillac, licking my wounds.

“Why in the name of God have you not told me about any of this?” Mama asks, this is now her sixth cigarette. I think she’s trying not to turn the car around.

“I thought you would have told me to get over myself and save face.” I say as we pull to her house.

“No, baby girl, I wouldn’t have. No one, especially not my daughter, deserves to be treated like that. Ooo I never liked the boy. Your daddy used to say that cowboy was all hat and no cattle. Let’s get some sleep, Princess. We will go get your stuff in the morning.”

I make my way to my childhood bedroom and collapse down on the bed. Before I close my eyes for the night, I finally check my phone. He had been blowing up my text messages.

I realize that I have never apologized to you about my short comings. But I swear to you, I will get out of the army if you want me to. We can move anywhere you want to, we can start over, just the two of us. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry that you kept this all from me. I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t love you. These where from six hours ago.

I don’t know when you will get your phone back, I love you. This was from before my mom collected me.

They told me you have been released from custody but didn’t say to who. Who ever picked you up asked them not to tell me. Are you safe?

I love you. Please. Let me know where you are, I’ll come get you. I hope that you are just ignoring me because you are asleep.

I reply to him with a simple Mama picked me up. Get some sleep. We will talk in the morning.

No ‘I love you’ from me tonight although it killed me not to tell him. Tomorrow, I will figure out if what we have can be saved. But that is tomorrow Josie’s problem.

#captain syverson #henry cavill fanfic #my apologies to henry cavill #henry cavill

179 notes · View notes

jinpanman · 3 years ago

Note

mai out here living her main character life 😌 we love to see it 😌

i am living vicariously through you and it’s bringing me so much joy to see your little updates every now and then

Ommgggg thanks;w; the mc life is so stressful tho omfg i am not built for this

should i tell you some cute things about vegan boy?<3

He let me take control of the music in the car 😍

He says "stooop" in this super cute whiny voice when i tease him about something

He walked around all new years eve day with me with a bloody ankle and never complained once (i didn't even know until the day after!😭 i felt so bad)

We shared all the food and all the drinks. Don't mind me as i go a lil delulu over all the indirect kisses hahaha (I FORGOT TO ADD BUT HIS BOTTOM LIP CAUGHT AGAINST MY FINGER WHEN HE WENT IN TO EAT THE BURGER I WAS HOLDING UP FOR HIM JSHDJSJDKS I ALMOST DIED)

He loves chocolate and hates seafood (didn't like it even before he became vegan) -- i chose the right man lol

HE LIKES TO DRIVE. Oh god. You have no idea how happy i am about this lol when i tell you liking to drive & not liking seafood are two of the top criteria for the man i end to marrying..... i got my eyes on him!!!🤣

He's super considerate of my fruit allergy 🥺 (which isn't even a big deal for me i just suffer through it bc people like fruit. HE SAID "I CAN LIVE WITHOUT FRUIT" UNPROMPTED (i'm sorry bby but i can't give up meat for u)

He thinks koi fish are cute (I do not)

He sucks at taking pictures lol

He joked about us & some friends going to hawaii for 2 weeks. I told him everyone's gonna leave him after week 1 and he said "You're staying with me!" (and then amended himself by adding on [friend here lol] 🤣)

He also sucks at singing but it's really cute when he sings lol

He sang me 2 seconds of this one hmong love song that translates to "pretty girl you're the one i like the most" AAAHHHHH

He's really easy to talk to. Like it's just so easy

He bought me this penguin pen case he saw me eyeing in a stationary shop 🥺🥺🥺

He let me shop in that store for however long i wanted to 🥺 and didn't mind waiting in line with me

He texts me about things we talked about. Like this hotel i told him i would not be able to afford bc it looked expensive. He actually looked it up a few days later and told me i was right (😍 love a man who knows when a woman is right)

He offered to take me to a shop across the street just for the bathroom bc the one in the restaurant we were eating in was really gross

He stole his cousin's clothes (bc his house was too far away) to come eat lunch with my family

Literally everyone i know loves him

He does this thing where he sniffs a lot

He's tall

He always offers to take me home after a hangout even though 1) my cousin's always around to take me home and 2)he lives on the complete opposite side of town where i was staying

Vegan pizza

He made sure to get me boba during our nye trip (i forgot all about it lol but he didn't 🥺)

He is so innocently optimistic about things that I'm so drained from. It's kind of refreshing

He gels his hair and it looks so good

He has a nice happy trail

He fed me a lot 🥺

He sat next to me at church 🥺🥺 apparently when i moved from my spot to talk with family and he didn't see me he sat somewhere else but when i moved back to my original spot so did he

(Story time: before service, some old lady behind us "whisper" asked a friend if we just got married lloooolllll and our friends being her usual self, she was all "oh nooo they just started talking! They're not married yet."💀💀 there is no way he didn't hear that either omfg and yes we both pretended we didn't hear that lol)

He also fed my family 🥺 like wtf 🥺 heart eyes 🥺

He's really cute

HE LIKES KPOP

HE DOESN'T JUDGE ME FOR KPOP bc he is also in this blackhole with me!!!!

Tbh I'm not used to having a guy "chase after" me. Bc I'm usually the one who initiates things. So him going for all these things (INCLUDING THE BTS CLUBBING EVENT OMG) to be with me makes me not know what to do with myself lololol

Ok. I should stop now lol this got really long oops

#a-noona-mous #mai got mail

10 notes · View notes

delta-roseblr · 4 years ago

Text

Ficlet for your reading pleasure

Look at me posting a prompt (that really wasn’t a direct prompt but lets not focus on that) in the first time in a while! I’m proud of me!

Hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where is this place again?" Felix asked as he made what felt like his one-hundredth right turn. They were going in circles, not that Felix was going to admit that. All the streets just looked too similar, and Felix wasn't familiar enough with Nashville to have any idea where he was going.

"It's off Church," Kyle answered as he sat forward in the backseat of Felix's jeep so Felix could see him in his rearview mirror. He and pretty much nothing else. He kept fucking talking about Church Street like Felix knew where the fuck that was. If it was Burlington, Felix could have drawn a map of Church Street from god-damned memory, but he really knew next to fucking nothing about Nashville. He had told Kyle multiple times, but he still just kept talking about fucking Church Street. Kyle held his arm out in the space between the driver and front passenger seat and gestured at the darkened street in front of them as he added, "I think you go two more blocks and then take a left."

"It's three blocks, and you need to take a right if we want to find parking," Dean declared from the passenger's seat as he looked up from his phone. The fact that it had taken this long for Dean to chime in was surprising. Dean had actually pitched a fit when Felix had said he would be the one driving that night. Since Leonard thought Felix was studying at Kyle's and had no idea Dean was home from college yet, and he definitely didn't know they were going to a gay bar, it made the most sense. Also, Felix would never say it to Dean because he loved his car so much, but the old Honda was just filled with the weirdest mix of unpleasant smells, and even after the engine was rebuilt, it still made strange fucking noises like it was ready to fucking die. Felix appreciated Dean's car, especially when it was the only car they had access to, but now Felix had his jeep. His jeep was an old piece of shit, too, but it just wasn't quite as old or quite as shitty as Dean's POS.

From the corner of his eye, Felix saw Dean slip his phone into the pocket of his jeans before bringing his full attention to the road. "And I won't point out how much easier this would have been if you had just let me drive," he commented.

It was dark, but the streetlights lit up the inside of the cab, and Felix could see the little satisfied smirk playing on Dean's lips. He thought he had won something which should have been annoying, but it was just kind of cute. Dean had really been away for too long.

They came to a stop at a streetlight, and Felix took advantage of the moment. He turned to look at his boyfriend. He was all blond hair and warm skin as always. "Dean," he said his name sweetly but also with a warning, "Unless you've figured out how to suck your own dick, you should probably stop fucking talking."

"I retract my previous statement," Dean stated seriously. Of course, it was Dean, and he was just as bold as he always was, so he reached out and brought a hand to rest on Felix's thigh. It wasn't so high, but it was high enough to up Felix's heartbeat a little. "Your driving and understanding of the city of Nashville is amazing, and I really can't complain," he stated with a bright smile.

"You two are so cute," Kyle faked cooed from the backseat before adding (mockingly), "I think I'm going to puke."

Eventually, they found the bar, found a place to park, and then made their way to the bar. It might have just been because Felix was comparing it to Burlington but getting into the place was beyond easy.

Once inside, they found a pretty thin crowd, but Felix didn't expect much more for the time of year. They had managed to hit that sweet spot where most of the younger people that came to the club were probably already tangled up in family holiday stuff, but most of the college kids hadn't returned home yet.

They were just a few feet into the place when they all collectively decided to stop and look around. To be honest, it was pretty much what Felix expected for a gay bar on the outskirts of Nashville, so it was pretty much par for the course, but other people clearly felt differently.

"This isn't….what I had been expecting," Kyle admitted sounding more disappointed with each word.

"What were you expecting?" Felix questioned. He sounded annoyed, which was because absolutely was, and yeah, he knew that made him an asshole, but this had been Kyle's idea. Not only had it been Kyle's idea, but Kyle had asked Dean after Felix had said no. He didn't go as far as to ask Dean behind Felix's back at least and asked Dean about it right in front of Felix. Much to Felix's surprise, his boyfriend that had also expressed a dislike of bars, immediately said yes. Felix was fucking shit at telling Dean no, so he was fucking stuck going, and both he and Kyle knew it. So Felix didn't care if the place was a little on the dingy side. He didn't care that the lighting managed to be both too bright and too dark at the same time. Felix didn't even care that the music playing overhead sounded more like static than anything else. He expected Kyle to be his typically overly excited self. "Pride flags and a rainbow-colored bar?"

"I was expecting to get ID'd at the door," Dean admitted. His voice was carefully neutral, and one look Felix found his expression matched his tone, but his eyes were scanning the room critically. Felix knew Dean well enough to know that this place was dive bar enough to bring up some daddy issues, not that Dean would say anything or suggest they leave. No, Dean would suffer silently.

"This is supposed to be an under 21 bar," Kyle informed quickly and matter-of-factly. Felix was half surprised Kyle didn't start reading the place's description from the website from memory. Felix was sure he could have because Kyle had been internet stalked the place for a while. Apparently, the website painted a different picture than what reality had to provide, and the shock was clear on Kyle's face. "And I don't know what I was expecting really," Kyle offered, and to his credit, he was obviously trying to hide his disappointment, and he mostly succeeded with his neutral tone. It was his face that gave him away. "I at least expected half the people here to be around our age."

"Yeah," Felix agreed with an unnecessary look around the place. "For a bar that is supposed to include people under 21, a lot of the people here look to be over forty," he pointed out. Really, it would have been impossible not to notice even if the place was hopping, but since it was moderately busy at the moment, so it stood out. Felix saw more guys that looked like they might hang out with his dad instead of kids around his age. He guessed divorced middle-aged men embracing the gayness they had been suppressing for years needed to get out too, but it was weird that they were choosing an under-21 bar when Nashville has several more traditional gay bars.

For the briefest of moments, Felix had a little bit of hope that the difference between Kyle's expectations and reality would be enough to make Kyle want to leave. They could get pizza or something. That hope died almost the moment it was born. It was almost like someone snapped their fingers, and Kyle got over his disappointment and shifted back to being excited, even if it was a bit more tempered now.

Kyle turned to him with a fucking smile on his face and asked, "Do we find a table?"

"I guess," Felix conceded with a sigh. He wasn't surprised, but he was disappointed that he wasn't going to get to escape. "Dean?" he questioned and got no reply. "Dean!?"

He looked to Dean just in time to see him looking up from his phone with a confused and bewildered expression. "Sorry, what?"

"We are going to find a table if you can look away from your phone," Felix informed with mostly fake annoyance.

"Yeah, sorry I was trying to translate this text message from Nico," Dean explained, which made sense even before he added, "For a guy that speaks several languages he can't spell in any of them" He shifted his phone so he was holding it in one hand and moved to put it in his back pocket before commenting, "But we should definitely find a table."

Felix would have fucking sworn he felt every ounce of positive drain from Kyle, so it wasn't a fucking surprise that when Felix looked at the guy, he looked tense, and his expression was carefully stony. "So Will is bringing the boyfriend?" he asked in a painfully neutral tone.

"Oh no," Felix exclaimed. He wasn't buying Kyle's attempts at neutrally, mainly because they were shitty attempts. If anyone could understand having an inconvenient, inappropriate crush, Felix liked Kyle too much to watch him continue to do this to himself. Felix had grown to think of Will in a somewhat positive way which was a journey, but he still didn't think of him as much in the way of dating material. Still, that wasn't why he was so bothered by the fact that Kyle couldn't let that crush go. It was never going to fucking happen, which was why it bothered Felix. Will was the most unavailable person on the fucking planet. He and Nico were practically fucking married, for fuck sake. Even if that wasn't the case, Will came with a load of baggage in the way of demigod shit. Kyle, of course, didn't know about that, but Felix fucking did, and he didn't think Kyle needed or would want any of that fucking drama. Fuck had Felix been trying to get Kyle to see the fucking light and shift his interest to someone more appropriate, even if at times it felt like he was banging his head against a wall. Felix didn't have any fucking desire to once again go through all that shit with Kyle, so he just shook his head insistently as he stated, "We're not doing that tonight."

"What!?!" Kyle questioned, but he sounded too outraged for Felix to believe for one second that he didn't know exactly what Felix was talking about, "I asked a question."

"No, you're starting to pine over a self-absorbed ass," Felix summarized indigently. In truth, Felix knew now that Will was pretty far from self-absorbed. Still, he did come with abandonment issues from like a dozen siblings dying in battles and a need for attention that came from having a fuck ton of siblings because Apollo is a fucking whore of a god. Calling Will self-absorbed was just easier, and maybe it was a little be of a reflex still. "Have some self-respect and standards."

Kyle huffed and rolled his eyes dramatically. "A smart, funny, attractive, blond, soccer play," Kyle declared with a heavily sarcastic tone. "No way you could get that attraction," he made a show of looking pointed toward Felix before turning and smiling toward Dean, "Oh, hi Dean! I forgot you were right there."

"That is totally different, and I resent the comparison," Felix growled as he pointed his finger aggressively toward Kyle, "There are plenty of age-appropriate guys around here. We will find you a better one that is available." So plenty might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but the point remained valid. "Now, let's go find a fucking table, so I can see if this bartender won't look too hard at my fake ID."

Surprisingly, the argument or discussion or whatever ended there, at least for the moment. They made their way through the bar's crowd with ease and found a large table that wasn't so far away from the bar that getting drinks would be annoying but not so close that they had to be worried about being overheard by the bartender. They still had the leering older men wondering the place to deal with, but Felix got a general impression that there was no escaping that.

There was some discussion about not wanting to lose their table even though Felix thought the likelihood of that was slim. Kyle suggested waiting until Will arrived (and made no mention of Nico) so there would be someone to watch their table. Felix wasn't exactly sure what Kyle was thinking with that one, but in the end, it didn't matter because Dean reminded him that he didn't have a fake ID so he could stay at the table while Felix bought his drink. Dean suggesting Felix buy anything was a surprise but not a bad one.

"How don't you have a fake ID?" Kyle ended up asking Dean with bewilderment, "You're in college."

Felix had asked the same question the first time Dean mentioned he didn't have a fake ID, although Felix's shock had been he had been in high school without one. The general feel of the question was the same, though. Of course, when Felix had first brought it up, he and Dean weren't dating yet, so he didn't know the details of Dean's home life. Now that he had that knowledge, it all made sense, but at the time, it seemed absurd.

Dean's response to Kyle was almost identical to the reaction Felix had gotten almost two years earlier. He shrugged casually as he replied, "I've never needed one."

Kyle sputtered for a second before reiterating, "But you're in college."

Dean's only reply was to shrug again. Dean wasn't going to explain that he always had unfettered access to alcohol if he wanted it, so something like a fake ID didn't make sense to him. He certainly wasn't going to waste his money on one.

"All the people he hangs out with are older," Felix interjected so they could move on. He patted Dean on the shoulder, ignoring the fact that he had to get up on his toes a little to do it so and gave him a sarcastic smile, "Don't worry, I've got you covered, College Boy."

Dean smirked back at him as he replied dryly, "My hero."

One playful eye roll, and then Felix was off to the bar with Kyle in tow. Considering the place wasn't that crowded, the bar itself was pretty busy. Felix blamed all the old dudes for that. Whatever the reason, he and Kyle ended up standing at the bar waiting for the bartender to notice their existence for a while.

As they waited, Felix pulled on his wallet and dug through the variety of cards and other random shit he had shoved in there to find his fake ID slide behind a stack of used gift cards. It wasn't the most obvious spot to keep it, but it wasn't exactly well hidden either. He was surprised his dad hadn't found it by now. After Leonard had found out about Dean, he had search everything Felix own on more than one occasion.

"Won't the out-of-state ID draw more attention?" Kyle asked as he leaned over Felix's shoulder.

"Don't know," Felix admitted with a shrug as he looked down at the fake Vermont license, "But I guess we'll see." Honestly, if anything was going to be a problem, according to the ID, Felix was almost twenty-six years old. Hopefully, the bartender wasn't too good at mental math because there was no way Felix looked that old.

Felix actually got a little worried when the bartender finally made his way toward them because the guy looked annoyed, but then it became clear that some middle-aged dude was trying to hit on the guy from the other end of the bar. As soon as he was away from that, he cheered right up, took their drink orders, barely looked at their ID's and started on their drinks.

Felix had ordered two beers for himself and Dean while Kyle had ordered some mixed drink, so Felix was handed his beers first and headed back to the table while Kyle remained behind. When he got back to the table, he found that Will and Nico had arrived, and they had apparently brought a third.

"Hey, Cecil," Felix greeted as he deposited one beer in front of Dean before taking a seat. "Wasn't expecting to see you."

Felix liked Cecil, at least for the little he actually interacted with the guy when he was at camp. He was glad he was there if for no other reason then it made it so it wouldn't be two couples and Kyle the whole night. Still, the guy hanging out at a gay bar seemed at least slightly risky if he was still trying to keep quiet about actually being gay thing, not that Felix was going to mention that.

Cecil shrugged, and he might have even had something to say, but Dean interrupted him by tapping Felix's shoulder and catching his attention before Cecil got a chance. "Where's Kyle?" he asked as he looked over Felix's head as if he was still looking.

"Waiting for his drink."

"And you left him!?!" Will questioned with absolute shock.

That was the type of reaction that had made Felix not like Will at first. Okay, it was one of the many things that had made Felix not like Will at first. The guy could just be so dramatic and over the fucking top about small shit. And yeah, Felix now sort of got why but that didn't make it any less annoying at the moment.

"He's a big fucking boy," Felix assured dismissively, "He can take care of himself."

Felix picked up his beer and took a long sip before turning back to Cecil, "What brings you to boring as fuck Tennessee."

"Hey!" Dean protested.

Felix didn't bother to turn to look at Dean, but he did reach out and patted his cheek dismissively. "I love you, but I hate this boring as fuck state, accept it."

Cecil chuckled at their interaction. Felix guessed, even though that was pretty much par for the course for them. "Will and Nico invited me to Thanksgiving," he explained.

"Cool," Felix replied with a nod even though he wasn't sure about that. Camp Half-Blood had pretty good food, and Felix would imagine that they put out an impressive spread for the holidays. Maybe it was depressing to hang out when many campers were away for the school year to spend with their families. Everyone needed a change of scenery every once and a while. At least he wouldn't be missing out on some damn good food because Dean's aunt was a fucking incredible cook.

A surprisingly loud buzzing sound began coming from his pocket, and Felix pulled out his phone, half-convinced it would be a message from his dad saying he had to go home because that would be a very fucking Leonard thing to do. Luckily, it was just a text message from Kyle, even though Felix couldn't think of why Kyle would have to text him when they were literally in the same fucking place.

OMG, come to the bar, NOW!

Felix had no fucking clue what that was about, but he didn't see how he got out of it, so he guessed he was going to have to go back to the bar. "Um, alright," he declared with a heavy sigh as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. "I'll be right back," he informed before hopping off his seat.

He only had to walk about halfway back to the bar to find Kyle standing with his drink in hand, half-hidden behind a wall craning his neck as he stared in the direction of their table. Felix had to admit that wasn't what he had been expecting, and he had no fucking idea what it meant.

"Alright, you got a drink, so now I'm confused," He admitted as he pointed to the drink in Kyle's hand, "Why did I have to come over here?"

Kyle looked at Felix for maybe a second before glancing first at his drink, and then he was back to trying to see their table through the crowd. "Who's the mysterious handsome with Will?" he asked instead of acknowledging Felix's question at all.

Felix looked back toward their table with confusion. He seriously didn't know who the fuck Kyle was talking about. "You've met Nico before," he reminded because that was the only thing that made sense even though it only barely did.

Kyle turned and glared at Felix like he was an absolute idiot. "You are such a fucking ass," he responded with more contempt than Felix had ever heard from Kyle before. "I have zero interest in Will's punk rock underwear model boyfriend, thank you very much."

Every once in and while, Kyle would insist that he wasn't bothered by the fact that Will was dating someone and that he was totally over his crush, and then there were moments like this where it was painfully apparent that neither of those things was true. Felix felt bad for Kyle and was impressed that he managed to make "underwear model" sound like an insult.

Kyle didn't want Felix's sympathy, and he wouldn't appreciate him pointing out that Will and Nico were a great couple either. So Felix just rolled his eyes as he commented sarcastically, "And you're not bitter at all."

Kyle just ignored him and huffed, "The cute guy with the curls."

"Who?" Felix questioned before looking back toward the table again. There was only one person there with curls, but Kyle couldn't have been talking about him, right? "Cecil?"

"That's even a cute name!" Kyle cooed.

What the fuck was happening? Felix thought to himself.

"No, it fucking isn't," Felix replied with absolute bewilderment. Felix liked Cecil but considering the guy wasn't a ninety-year-old man. His name didn't fit him at all. And since when did anyone comment on another person's name being cute?

Kyle glared at him again, which was really starting to feel like a weird turnaround in their friendship. "Who is he?" Kyle questioned. He didn't wait for Felix to answer. Instead, Kyle turned, so he looked back at the table again as he continued to ask questions. "Is he single? Is he gay?" Kyle's eyes lit up, and he turned to look at Felix again, "Please tell me he's gay!"

Of all the things Felix had expected to happen that night, he could honestly say Kyle finding a new crush, at first sight, wasn't one of them. He didn't know how he felt about it either. He was all for Kyle moving on from the idea of Will because that was never going to happen, and Kyle was a cool enough guy and deserved to be happy, but another fucking demigod, really? That was not something Kyle wanted to get dragged into. The guy was fucking attracted to trouble, and he didn't even fucking know it. The worse thing about it, Felix knew exactly why Kyle shouldn't get his hopes up, but he couldn't say shit about it.

"Oh my god," Felix groaned and rolled his eyes, "You are fucking hopeless." Hopefully, Kyle would take that statement to mean that Cecil was straight and would just let it go. "Come on, I'll introduce you," he stated and waved for him to follow.

They walked back to the table. At some point, Kyle ended up a few steps behind him like he was fucking hiding or something, which was especially dumb because Kyle was the same height as Dean, so he was at least a head taller than Felix.

"Hey, what did we miss?" Felix questioned as he went right back to his seat next to Dean. That, of course, was the moment he realized that the only empty chair left was between himself and Cecil. That was inconvenient but not nearly as annoying as Kyle sharply poking him in the back the moment Felix had sat down. The point was taken, so Felix gestured to Kyle to do the whole introduction thing. "Oh yeah, this is Kyle," Felix then gestured around the table without much enthusiasm as he continued, "You've met Nico and know Will, and that's Will's friend Cecil."

"Hey," Kyle greeted with a bit of wave and a smile. Of course, he seemed to look at Will and Cecil and completely ignored Nico's very existence. Baby steps, Felix guessed.

There were waves and a few greetings. Nico might have seemed a little less enthused, which was kind of funny. Felix remembered hearing some vague story about Nico putting a skeleton in some guy's bed because he showed an interest in Will. Maybe that was what Kyle needed.

"Again, sorry we took so long," Will offered, apparently unaware of Nico's subtle disapproval of Kyle's presence. "We had kind of a hard time finding a place to park."

"They were arguing about Will's driving and kept driving past parking spots," Cecil informed with a smirk.

It was an amusing thought. Felix had never really seen the two bicker before. Usually, they were too busy being all over each other to do things like that. Felix didn't get to enjoy his amusement long because Kyle had to chime in. "These two did that too!" he exclaimed with far too much excitement as he pointed at Dean and Felix. The pointing especially seemed unnecessary, considering it was obvious who he was talking about.

Nico smirked slightly in a way Felix guessed was sort of mysterious. He didn't see it personally, but that didn't really matter. "That doesn't surprise me," he commented knowingly.

"We don't bicker…like….at all," Felix defended, and it was the truth. He and Dean could easily break into lively debates over absolutely meaningless shit, and Felix was pretty sure most of the time they both dug down on their side to drag it out, but that wasn't bickering. Hell, at times, that was practically fucking foreplay. Felix couldn't see how it could be mistaken for actual fighting.

"Oh, I know," Nico admitted, "It's just in my limited experience Dean's driving is…interesting."

"Bad," Will interjected, "Dean's driving is bad."

"You didn't complain when I drove you to school every day," Dean commented even though he didn't have the heat behind his words for them to have any real impact.

Nico seemed to ignore Dean and Will's little exchange and focused his attention on Felix as he continued, "And you have a tendency to be….vocal."

Felix really didn't know how to take that. If it were anyone else, he would have probably taken offense, but with Nico, he just couldn't. Nico wasn't the type to sling insults, or at least that Felix was aware. So he was at a complete loss, and if it had been a year earlier, Felix would have covered his bewilderment with some comment that would have come out way more hostile than he meant it to be, but Felix was really fucking trying to be better than that. Instead, he tried to make a joke out of it by turning to Dean with a fake look of outrage and questioning, "Did your cousin just call me a screamer?"

"I don't think so," Dean replied, although he didn't sound as certain as he probably should have, "But I could see how it could sound that way."

"Well, are you?" Kyle questioned with a laugh in his voice and a smirk on his face before Felix could even think of something else to say.

Felix wasn't overly loud in bed. Of that, Felix was sure. Actually, Dean was louder, at least when he bottomed, and even then, Felix wouldn't call Dean a screamer. There was no way Felix was explaining any of that to Kyle, and Kyle knew it. That was probably why he asked, to get a bit of a rise out of him.

Felix responded with a glare that, in reality, didn't have as much heat behind it as it would have it was anyone else that asked.

Dean missed the memo about not answering questions about their sex life because he gave it a moment's thought before answering, "Not normally."

Felix actually wouldn't have cared if he could have been classified as a screamer. All that would mean was he was vocal while enjoying sex. Sex was amazing, so why shouldn't he be vocal about it? Also, he knew he loved it when Dean got loud during sex because it usually meant he was losing his damn mind from the fucking pleasure, and that was sexy as fuck. That didn't stop him from giving Dean a 'What the hell man?' look. If nothing else, it gave Felix something to tease Dean about later, which was always fun.

Nico chuckled, and it was hard to tell if it was from amusement or nerves. It could have been both. "I just meant you don't seem to be shy about giving your opinion," he offered.

It was really fucking hard to take anything Nico said as offensive, but Felix was pretty sure if anyone else said that to him, he would have been bothered. "I guess," he muttered in reluctant agreement.

"Yeah, that's very true," Dean agreed, maybe a little more enthusiastically than was really warranted, at least in Felix's opinion, "Also, irrelevant because I wasn't the one driving."

"Oh," Nico exclaimed with obvious surprise, "I retract my previous statement then. What were you arguing about then?"

"Parking," Felix answered.

Kyle hissed like he had something to say about that, but Felix shot him a look because he really didn't need Kyle offering his opinion on the matter. That was enough for Kyle to think better of it. "Well, parking was definitely part of it."

Dean was smart enough to remain silent on the topic, and Kyle already seemed to be distracted by making eyes at Cecil (and Cecil seemed more into that than Felix would have liked). Felix guessed it was better than Kyle just spending the night openly ogling Will, so he let it go for the moment being.

Nico was quick to offer a change of topic. "Is someone going to come to take our order?" he asked as he looked around expectant.

Considering what Nico looked like and what he did for a living, Felix imagined he usually didn't even have to order a drink at a bar. People probably just brought him drinks in hopes that he would acknowledge their existence. Nico did seem like a down-to-earth guy, so Felix figured he wouldn't expect something like that, but he was probably just used to that sort of thing.

"This isn't Gladiators," Will reminded, "I think we have to go to the bar."

Not entirely surprising, Nico looked confused by the idea, which confirmed what Felix had suspected. He was a smart guy, so Felix was pretty sure he would figure it out. Besides, there was still a chance someone would present him with a drink in the hopes of getting a chance to bang an underwear model before he ever made it to the bar.

"The bartender barely looks at your ID, so it isn't a big deal," Kyle assured.

Good for him, Felix thought. He could tell Kyle was trying to be nice even though he disliked Nico at least a little for the simple fact that Will and Nico were dating.

"Perfect," Cecil declared as he pulled a wallet out of his pocket and dropped it on the table before moving to another pocket and producing another wallet. Cecil made at least half a dozen wallets from various places on his person appear in a matter of thirty seconds. "Let's see what I have to work with."

Cecil started flipping through the wallets in front of them in a way that made it very clear that he had some experience with that sort of thing. That reminded Felix that Cecil was the child of Hermes, and Hermes is the god of thieves. He wasn't sure if he should be horrified or amused by what he was seeing.

The look on Kyle's face was definitely tipping it more into the amusing category. He was clearly fluctuating between absolute shock and confusion, and his expressions were so extremely exaggerated it reminded Felix of a cartoon.

To Kyle's credit, he didn't stay silent, but that wasn't surprising. Kyle usually didn't have a problem speaking his mind. "Um…." Kyle hummed and then pointed toward the pile of wallets on the table, "Are all of those your wallets?"

Kyle continued to flip through the wallets, pulling out IDs and credit cards as he did. "Well, I mean, they are in my possession now," he offered. Pausing briefly after tossing one of the IDs aside, and looked up just a little in Kyle's direction. Felix thought he saw the smallest of flirtatious smiles spread across Cecil's face directed toward Kyle, but that couldn't have the case. "And you know what they say about that," he offered.

So stolen. That was pretty much what Felix had figured. Even if he didn't know Cecil was the demigod child of the god of thieves, it was more than evident. Will apparently wasn't so quick on the uptake because he sounded genuinely outraged when he shouted disapprovingly, "Cecil!"

"You know I can pay for everything, right?" Nico offered without clearly as much shock and outrage in his voice.

"That isn't the point," Cecil returned as he tossed the last of the wallets aside. He looked up and seemed to talk more to Will than anyone else even though he had a captive audience in Kyle from its looks. "It's about the challenge, and the guys around here are not much of a challenge."

"It's a gay bar," Felix reminded as he tried to contain a laugh, "Most guys are expecting a little fucking groping." That wasn't true for Felix, at least not in the sense of a stranger. Now Dean was another fucking story, and hopefully, that was how the night would end. But there were plenty of guys in the bar, and Felix had his money on the vast majority looking to hook up.

Next to him, Felix heard Dean laugh. "He isn't wrong," he admitted.

Cecil just shrugged unapologetically, "That doesn't mean they shouldn't mind their wallets."

Felix was fucking flashing forward to when Will and Nico had kids because the look of disappointment and disapproval on Will's face reminded Felix of disapproving parent. "That isn't a valid excuse for pickpocketing strangers," Will reprimanded.

"Don't worry, no one noticed," Cecil assured like that was the problem, the getting caught part and not the actual pickpocketing part. Felix almost laughed at Cecil's bravado. The thing was, Felix's dad thought he was studying at Kyle's, and if he found out Felix was really at a gay bar with Dean, Felix would be grounded for a fucking eternity. So if Cecil got caught pickpocketing people, that could present some problems. Cecil clearly didn't see the issue as he smiled brightly. "I'm very good," he stated with confidence.

Will's brain had apparently broke at some point because his only response was to stare at Cecil slack-jawed. Felix would think since Will and Cecil had been friends for a while, Will wouldn't have been so surprised. He got the feeling this was pretty standard for Cecil. Nico at least didn't seem overly surprised or worried about it. If anything, he seemed sort of amused by the whole thing, but it could be hard to tell with Nico.

"I'm going to get a drink," Nico declared as he hopped down from his chair. He looked between Will and Cecil briefly before asking, "Do you both just want a beer?"

"Sure," Cecil replied as he started to tuck away the various wallets he had collected into his pockets, "Thanks, Nico."

"Um, I guess," Will muttered uncertainly. Felix was pretty sure Will was just still too distracted by Cecil's kleptomania because it was seriously out of his character for him not to jump up to follow Nico around immediately.

You would think that Will simply refraining from following Nico around like a lovesick puppy would have been enough for Kyle but not. At least some part of his horny teenage brain viewed Nico as competition or at the very least as something close to an advisory which was just incredibly stupid, to say the least. Kyle decided that was the moment to get what seemed like it was meant as a dig. "Do you even have a fake ID?" Kyle asked Nico with almost a disgusting amount of doubt.

"No," Nico replied, "But I don't foresee that being a problem."

No one in their right fucking mind would look at Nico and believe he was twenty-one; of that, Felix was fucking sure. That didn't mean he didn't think Nico was probably right about his lack of an ID not being a problem. Not only was Nico good-looking, which seemed to go a pretty far way, but he also had a 'Don't fuck with me or else' vibe that was pretty fucking hard to argue with. Felix would bet the bartender wouldn't even bother to ask Nico for an ID.

Kyle at least had the common sense not to push the topic further, which satisfied Nico greatly if the glint in his eye and the slight grin that spread across his face was any indication. It wasn't an over-the-top expression by any means because it was fucking Nico. Felix was pretty sure the guy didn't know how to do over the top, or at least that kind of over the top. Even subtle, it was noticeable enough

It probably didn't help that after giving Kyle a few seconds of his victory face, Will decided to jump into the conversation in full lovesick puppy mode. Felix got that Will was oblivious to Kyle's lingering crush on him even though he had been told on multiple occasions, but how he missed the little exchange between Kyle and Nico, Felix didn't fucking understand. He had most definitely missed it never the less.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Will asked Nico.

"I'm sure I can handle it on my own," Nico replied with a shrug, "But if you want to, I could use the extra pair of hands."

That was all Will needed to hear. He hopped out of his chair like a tiger from Winnie the Pooh or some shit. "Be right back," he declared quickly before trotting after Nico as he headed toward the bar.

They watched the two walk-offs for a few seconds before they were lost to the crowd. "Oh, codependence," Felix commented dryly in hopes of cutting off any of Kyle's potential pouting. "I'm so glad that isn't a family trait because I'm pretty sure I would murder you," he added with a humorless smile directed at Dean.

Felix wasn't actually all that worried about that sort of thing. He and Dean were pretty independent, so neither would take on the relationship's lost puppy role. Sure, between texting and phone calls, they probably talked for hours most days, and Dean had been trying to talk Felix into applying to Berkeley so they could be at the same school, but that was just….different.

Next to him, Felix heard Kyle snicker at that comment. He was fucking loud about it, so Felix wouldn't have been surprised if half the fucking bar heard. Felix couldn't help but turn to look at him, and the amused fucking grin on his face was just even more fucking confusion.

What the fuck did I miss?

Felix probably should have just let it go but hated feeling like everyone knew something he didn't. "What?" he asked as he stared at Kyle critically.

"Nothing," Kyle assured, but he sounded far too amused to be even remotely believed. Before Felix could push any further, Kyle had already turned his attention to Cecil and changed the subject. "Um, so Cecil, what brings you to Tennessee?" Kyle asked with a smile. He was clearly trying to be friendly, but it was over the top, so Felix found it awkward. It was also pretty out of character for Kyle. It was an interesting development, to say the least.

"Oh, Will invited me to Thanksgiving," Cecil answered with a bit of a shrug, "And Nico insisted. Saying no to Nico seems kind of …."

"Dangerous?" Felix offered without even thinking about it. Nico was actually really nice, but he was also scary as fuck. Felix wouldn't want to tell him no either.

Dean was less than a second behind with an equally valid suggestion, "Terrifying?"

"Yeah," Cecil agreed with a laugh, "Pretty much."

"So, you had no choice," Felix summed up. He paused to sip at his beer before adding, "Only legitimate reason to come to Tennessee."

"Hey!" Dean immediately protested, "I honestly don't know how to take that."

Felix looked at Dean to find him staring back, looking genuinely outraged. Maybe that should have made Felix feel at least a little guilty because of that, but honestly, he found it a little funny. He didn't actually laugh, but it was a close call. "You should be fine with it," he retorted. "I can hate the state I met you in and still love you," Felix explained matter-of-factly before taking another sip of his beer.

Dean's reaction was precisely what Felix had hoped for. He grinned from ear to ear. "You love me? Really?" Dean leaned over and made a real fucking show of kissing Felix on the cheek, "Because I definitely love you."

It wasn't like Felix wasn't used to Dean being affectionate. He wasn't used to Dean being so openly affectionate in such a large crowd, but around friends was normal enough. He still blushed at it, which officially killed any chance he had to even try to play it cool. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try, but it did mean he knew going in it wouldn't work.

"God, you've had like two sips of beer," Felix grumbled under his breath even as his cheeks continued to burn, "You can't be like this already."

"So," Cecil point at them while looking at Kyle, "They are just as bad as Will and Nico?"

"Um," Kyle hummed, still being a bit awkward about the whole thing, "I'm more used to these two, but yeah, they're pretty cutesy."

Felix swallowed down the urge to argue that by taking a large sip of his drink. Dean got kind of cutesy when he had a few drinks in him, but otherwise, they weren't like that at all. Besides the few affectionate gestures, they acted just like they did when they were just friends. He even got Kyle to admit that he claimed that didn't mean they weren't cutesy a few times. It wasn't worth arguing about, Felix was sure, so once he swallowed his drink, he went to change the topic. "Alright, Cee," Felix declared, "Why did Will drag to this great state for the great food holiday?" The state of Tennessee might have sucked by Will's mom was a fucking fantastic cook. In Felix's opinion, her cooking rivaled the food at Camp Half-Blood, so at least Cecil was in for a treat.

"Sympathy, I guess," Cecil replied with a shrug, "He's making a bigger deal over the breakup than either me or Lou are."

Felix opened his mouth to say without even thinking about the fact that he would be outing Cecil. Luckily Dean saved him from accidentally spilling the beans before Felix got a chance. "You guys broke up?" Dean questioned with great disappointment in his voice, "Sorry to hear that."

"It's cool," Cecil assured a little awkwardly before adding, "We are better friends."

Felix guessed that was one way to put it, considering that Cecil was gay. He guessed Cecil had finally worked up the nerve to end his fake relationship but not enough to tell people he was gay. Felix wasn't judging, but he figured pretending to be upset about a breakup would get old fucking fast.

"That's a positive attitude to have," Kyle chimed in, and suddenly the awkward energy he had just a few moments before was gone, and Kyle seemed way too excited to hear about Cecil's break.

Felix liked Kyle, but the boy was beyond fucking obvious. How anyone thought he was straight, Felix would never fucking understand. He also had horrible taste in guys. First, he spends years drooling over Will, and now he was getting hot and bothered over Cecil. Sure, Cecil was an improvement but still.

Cecil sort of smiled at Kyle, and it struck Felix that this might be a problem. Luckily Nico and Will decided that was the moment to reappear, drinks in hand, and they interrupted the whole thing before either Kyle or Cecil could attempt any awkward flirting that Felix would have to stop.

"We are back," Nico declared as he placed his drink on the table before pushing himself up into his chair.

"And we have drinks," Will declared from half a step behind Nico, holding up the two beers he was carrying as proof. He placed one beer in front of his seat before placing the other squarely in front of Cecil. "There was actually a guy about to send you a drink," Will told Cecil as he took his seat. He waved his hand in what Felix was sure was met to be a reassuring gesture as he added, "Don't worry, I told him you were straight."

Felix had to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from calling Will a cock block which made him wonder if this was going to be a problem. They were in a fucking gay bar, and Cecil wasn't a horrible-looking guy. If Will was going to keep help his friend out by explaining Cecil was straight, Felix didn't know if he would be able to take it. He was going to slip up and say something he shouldn't and outing Cecil like a fucking asshole.

Maybe he just had a lot of practice because he had to lie about all the demigod stuff, but Cecil did an impressive job of hiding any disappointment or frustration he might have been feeling. "Thanks," he replied. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic, but he didn't sound annoyed either.

"Um…..," Kyle hummed, which matched the confused look he was wearing quite well. His one finger in the air to signal he had a question was a bit much but to each their own.

"Lou is short for Lou Ellen," Dean offered quickly.

Kyle, unlike Cecil, did not school his emotions at all. The guy visibly deflated as he tried to cover (poorly) by saying, "Oh, that's an interesting name."

Felix had to admit that he did feel a little bad. Kyle was a cool enough guy, and he really shouldn't have to wait until college to date. But, at the same time, it really was for the best. Kyle did not need all that crazy demigod shit in his life. It was better for him just to think Cecil was straight than for Felix to have to play interference all night.

#Delix #Solangelo #other OCs

23 notes · View notes