#if the people who love me and know how important my writing is to me can read it

[moonstruckme]

Hello Mae! I hope you’re having a wonderful week so far. I have never requested before but I saw your requests were open and I felt inspired! (Forgive me if I do or say something wrong!) I saw that you write for stranger things but I’ve never seen a poly!steddie before! If it inspires you, I thought a little hurt/comfort with some angst could be fun with the boys. Maybe a miscommunication between them when they’re first figuring out the dynamic and one of the boys says something hurtful to writer by accident (we know those silly boys have no brain to mouth filter). Thank you for sharing your writing and working so hard for us, you’re so appreciated and loved! ❤️❤️

Thank you angel <33

poly!steddie x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“God, it’s worse than I thought.” Eddie rolls onto his stomach on Steve’s bed, dragging the chord of your headphones with him. “How many of these do you have on here?” 

“It’s the whole album,” you say. You’re watching your boyfriends all tangled up on top of the covers, half tempted to join them but too shy to do it. The carpeting on Steve’s bedroom floor is soft enough anyway. 

“Eugh, your poor ears!” 

“You’re such a snob.” Steve gives Eddie’s ankles a halfhearted shove where they’ve fallen over his lap, but really you know he doesn’t mind the contact. 

“No, a snob would tell her to listen to fucking strings music or something,” says Eddie. “I just have taste.” 

“What’s wrong with U2?” you ask. 

Really, you knew better than to think you’d actually get any studying done with your boyfriends. You knew it since Steve invited you over, but that didn’t stop you from going, pep in your step and textbook like a prop in your bag. You were barely ten minutes in when Eddie had plucked your headphones up from your head, taking a listen. He declared your taste in music “laughable.” 

“What’s wrong with U2?” Eddie repeats incredulously. “Baby, where do I start? I didn’t know I had a pop princess on my hands here.” 

You recognize the teasing in his tone, but the jabs at your music selection still taste sour in your mouth. “Oh, because Metallica is so underground.” 

“See, that’s part of it. At least Metallica is real rock. U2 is just—like—I don’t even know what to call them. They say they’re a rock band, but listen to this shit!” He sits up and tries to put the headphones on Steve, who wards him off with a hand. “This is not rock.” 

“You’re a total snob,” Steve repeats, laughing when Eddie only fights harder. 

“No, seriously! This isn’t rock. Plus, have you ever seen Bono perform? It’s totally overdone.” 

“I went to one of their shows,” you say. “Last summer.” 

“Fuck.” Eddie blows out a breath as he gives up on trying to get your headphones on Steve. He collapses against your boyfriend’s side, grinning. “My condolences, then.” 

“I liked it.” 

“Awe. That’s probably because you haven’t been to a real concert yet, huh? Don’t worry, gorgeous, we’ll get you to a good one eventually. Your ears will be relieved.” 

“Yeah, okay.” You roll your eyes. Neither of your boyfriends seem to have notice how you’ve gone quiet, both too absorbed in each other as Eddie lands aggressive kisses on Steve’s cheek and Steve grins and pretends not to like it. For the first time since you started dating, you feel bitterly alone. 

Part of you thinks you might be overreacting. You don’t usually care what people think of your music tastes—they don’t usually fixate on them so intensely, but you generally tend to believe that art is subjective and everyone is entitled to their own preferences. The thing is, you know music is really important to Eddie. He’s made it his life. He plays in a band; half his shirts are band tees; there’s a guitar mounted on his wall that he talks to more sweetly than either you or Steve. So if he thinks your taste in music is garbage, what does that say about what he thinks of you?

“Hey.” Steve nudges you with a foot. You’ve been looking morose without meaning to, not realizing anyone was watching. “You know he’s just kidding, right?” 

“Oh, no,” Eddie says, still grinning, “I don’t kid about concerts. We’re fucking going.” 

You start putting your textbook away. “I think I’m going to finish studying at home.” 

“No, hey,” says Steve, frowning now. “Come on.” 

Eddie’s eyebrows rise as he catches on. “Wait, are you seriously mad?” 

“I’m not mad,” you lie. “I’m just going to go listen to my awful music back at my place, where I can actually study.” 

“Please, you knew what you were getting into, babe. We were never going to study.” Eddie’s trying to joke with you again, but his tone turns serious when you stand up to leave. “Hey, hold on. I’m just messing around. Stay.” 

You turn around, unsure what to say and not really wanting to look at either of them, either. 

“I didn’t know you liked U2 that much,” he says in a softer voice.

“It’s not that I—” You sigh, crossing your arms. “I’m not, like, obsessed with them. I just don’t get why you have to rag on what I like so much.” 

“I was just playing, baby. I’m sorry, I didn’t think you cared, just—c’mere.” 

Eddie wraps a hand around your elbow, tugging you onto the bed with him and Steve. Your arms uncross by the nature of the movement. He gets you between them, kissing the side of your head. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, words all mushed up. Not teasing anymore. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I did, didn’t I?” 

“No,” you say, partially because you don’t want to seem dramatic and partially because it really is difficult to blame someone who’s pressing their lips to your cheek like they plan to leech on and never let go. “Just, I at least pretend to like the things that you like.” 

“Pretend?” Eddie pulls away, looking wounded. 

“Try not to take it personally,” Steve tells you. His hand has found your neck, thumb rubbing at the tense muscles near your shoulders. “He really is a snob. He called me a philistine for listening to Tears for Fears.” 

“Well,” Eddie cuts in, “you are a philistine.” 

“But,” Steve goes on with a narrow-eyed look, “he doesn’t have to be such a dick about it.” 

“Right. Right, yeah, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Eddie devotes himself to you again, hugging his arms around your waist. “Really. I was just messing with you, I thought we were joking around. We can listen to U2 if you want. We can even—if you want us to, we can go to a concert.” 

He sounds so pained as he says it that it coaxes a small smile out of you. Steve, seeing, squeezes your shoulder encouragingly. 

“I know you had to fight a gag reflex to say that,” you tell Eddie. 

He grimaces. “I may need a vomit bag when we go. But if it’s important to you…” 

“That’s okay.” 

The sigh Eddie lets out is gargantuan. He sinks against your side. “Thank you.” He kisses underneath your jaw. It tickles, but he only latches on tighter when you try to get away. “I knew you loved me. I’ll never make fun of you again.” 

“You can still make some fun of me,” you allow. 

Steve makes a dissenting noise. “Not in an asshole way, though.” 

“No, that’s it. I’m swearing off teasing for the rest of my life. The stakes are too high.” 

“Right, sure.” Steve reaches around you to tug on one of Eddie’s curl gently. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

[ivysprophecy]

I'll Be Damned

an: ummm @kimoralov3 gave me a request and we both decided i needed to write it immediately. sorry if its a little whorish LOL. the actual request is from a tumblr post TAGGED HERE AND I WILL TAG THE CREATOR @wttcsms i wanna make sure credit is given where its due. also i got SO CARRIED AWAY the longest thing ive ever written LOL and i started this so long ago i think the original post got deleted, whoops.

warnings: talks about conservative/strict/religious upbringing, purity rings, mentions of weed, loss of virginity, protected sex, mentions of not being on contraceptives, religious talk, mdni 18+, oral fem!recieving

word count: 4373

you were no saint, that much was certain. god knows if your parents knew you were alone in a boys room with said boy theyd have your head on a stick.

especially if they knew that boy was jj maybank.

your parents werent bad people by any means, they knew not to judge someone based on things out of their control. but in their defense jj had made some questionable choices.

but that was part of his appeal. his charm was his impulsivity, his wit, his knack for excitement.

how he'd decided youd be good friends you have no idea but you couldnt be happier that he had.

or else you wouldnt be sitting in his bed at the chateau with him as he smoked a joint and watched whatever sit com you were currently binging together.

"can I ask you something?" he blurted out of nowhere, his eyes still trained on the small television screen.

your head whipped in his direction at his cautious tone, "shoot," you said curiously. why did he sound so worried?

had you done something wrong?

"whats that ring? on your pinky finger..." he motions with a nod of his head down to your hand that was sitting in your lap, "i know you said its a family thing. does it have a meaning or something?"

oh boy. i hate this talk.

"its uh... its a purity ring... my dad gave it to me at my confirmation last year," he almost choked on his own spit.

"a- a purity ring? i know you said you were religious but damn- i thought those were some kind of fallacy..."

"im so proud of you! you just used 'fallacy' correctly in a sentence!" you said with an exaggerated sense of excitement hoping to change the subject.

you hated being judged for your ring. you saw the looks from boys when they saw it, if they knew what it was. girls teasing you for being a prude.

when in reality it wasnt much of a choice. rationally, you know having sex wouldnt send you into the fiery pits of hell. rationally, you knew that in your faith, heaven was created for sinners who had earned forgiveness and preached love and prosperity and worshipped God. but irrationally... what if your parents were right? your faith was important to you, a key part of how you were raised. you didnt want to become a disappoint by giving into temptation.

but late at night when a certain blond snuck into your thoughts... you wanted to give in. badly.

"i wasnt judging you, i was just a lil shocked alright? i didnt know you were that serious about all that," hed held up his hands in defense trying to calm your nerves on the sensitive subject.

"honestly?" you turn to face him with a shameful look on your face, a pink hue covering your cheeks perfectly, "sometimes i dont think i am. or- that my values and beliefs dont really line up like that."

"what do you mean?"

"just that. i dont think purity matters THAT much ya know? and forgiveness is there for a reason. that having sex doesnt mean im not a good person. right?"

jj chuckled lowly, "mama if that were true id be considered down right satanic."

you couldnt hide your laughter after his comment either. hes just so infectious. clearly with the way thoughts of him had been invading your mind lately.

"its not just that- then the insecurity comes along with it, even if i changed my mind everyone already knows about it. no guy would ever wanna sleep with me. unless its some kind of weird kink thing and i dont think my religion should be fetishized-"

"are you kidding me?"

"um... no? im not really comfortable with that-"

"no- mama-" jj shook his head in his hands, "there are plenty of guys that would wanna sleep with you. not just for some creepy kink."

"name one," you said seriously. because seriously, who the fuck would wanna sleep with you? not a single person has ever shown real interest in you ever-

"me."

shut the fuck up. he said that so confidently?! hello?!

your eyes widen with shock, "p-pardon?!"

"i didnt stutter right? i said pretty clearly that i want to have sex with you-" you clamped a hand over jj's mouth instinctively. praying that john b hadnt heard his friends loud proclamation across the hall.

"i heard you the first time!" you whispered, your tone stern.

jjs eyes gestured to the hand on his mouth as if to say 'move please so i can speak'. part of you didnt want to move your hand, partially because of what he might say, and the other because touching him kinda felt nice. in anyway you could.

haphazardly, you decide to remove your hand from his face, your face still showing your disbelief.

"why are you so confused? you asked a question and i answered it-"

"because i- well i didnt expect that from you. and i dont need a pitty fuck if thats what youre trying to say because thats even more pathetic."

"okay none of that- no maam," jj interrupts me shaking his head, "im not gonna listen to you talk about yourself like youre completely undesirable. because thats so fucking unbelievable."

his face, on rare occasion, is utterly serious. oh my dear god he really did wanna sleep with me...

lord if this is a test i want to assure you this not a battle you wanna give me. im not your strongest soldier because i will fold faster than a lawn chair.

"youre serious??"

"do i look like im jokin? do i have a mic in my hands? is there an audiance i dont see? cause im not a fucking comedian. im being for real."

what are you supposed to do now? like actually? do you kiss him? no one prepared you for what to do in this situation.

"okay listen- you look pretty freaked out. im not saying we have to or anything im just saying... ive thought about it ya know? youre gorgeous and were close so i just thought maybe youve thought about it too."

well here goes nothing, "i have. thought about it i mean. a lot."

"oh really?" that made jjs brows quirk up and a smirk plaster across his face. he always has to be so smug, "is that so?"

"dont do that!"

"do what?" he questioned.

your cheeks flush in embarrassment, "make me feel like this is so easy. because it isnt."

"but it could be," jj pauses the tv before looking directly in your eyes, meaning business, "you just said that this is what you want right? im right here offering it to you so whats stopping you?"

you took a deep, shaky breath at his words. you really didnt wanna sound like a crazy person but being scared of sex was normal right? especially with your best friend of all people.

there were so many reasons not to do this.

"honestly? im scared. scared of what that would mean for us, scared of actually doing this. scared of... a lot of things. im a chicken. a big fat crazy chicken."

he couldnt help but laugh at your words. thinking 'what the fuck is she on?'

and part of him knew hed have to talk you off the ledge if you were gonna do this, but hes willing to work for it. work for you.

"mama listen to me. we can be whatever the hell you want us to be, youre my girl whether we're just friends or my head is between your legs. and as for the other part- id never ever hurt you m'kay? if you wanna do this i promise id go as slow as you want. you set the pace, ill be gentle. but im not trynna make you do this."

oh my god jj maybank just gave you 'the speech'.

and youre sitting here with all of your clothes still on.

"and lets say i do... wanna do this... you really want this? like this isnt out of pity or curiosity or anything?"

"maybe im not making myself clear. y/n. i wanna have any and every part of you that you'll let me."

holy shit okay... yeah okay. this is really happening.

you try to scramble for the words caught in your throat, "okay.. h-how do i do this? what if i do it bad?"

"youre not gonna 'do it bad'," he chuckles through his words, one of his hands sliding onto your thigh, "look ill guide you through it okay? we'll go slow... i promise."

"that sounds...nice."

"i sure hope so," he chuckled softly, "otherwise we wouldnt be doing it... and if you wanna stop just tell me okay?

all you could was nod and watch as he moved so he was hovering over you and you were laid flat against his bed.

"i need to hear you say it mama..." his face was so close to yours you could barely muddle up a whisper in response giving him a small 'yes' before finally feeling his lips press into yours.

it wasnt anything like you thought it would be. it was... gentle, sweet, tender in the most romantic way.

but you could tell he was holding back...

your hands found the nape of his neck and quickly pulled him closer, needing more of him. wanting him to show you what its really like, not some pussy foot version.

his lips travelled further down to your jaw... to your neck... to your collar bone...

"can i take this off?" there was a small tug at the hem of your shirt, his eyes pleading with you, begging even.

you sat up almost immediately, helping him pull it over your head, and just like that his eyes were glued to your chest.

the pink on your cheeks intensified to a red at the sight, at first you were thinking of the worst case scenario. that hed changed his mind, the they didnt look right, that you werent as appealing as hed assured you.

his hands instinctively reached out but he stopped himself, unsure if he was moving too fast, doing too much.

"gorgeous..." his eyes were wide with excitement, raw and unfiltered. the inside of his mouth salivating at the sight of your braless body. "can i touch you? please god- ill pray if it means i can."

the laugh that escaped you was just as unashamed as his pleas, "yea. yea jay you can touch me," you wanted laugh more. aware that hes being considerate of your feelings but it was almost stupid how badly you wanted this.

he quickly pulled his shirt over his head before diving back in to kiss you, his hands gently kneading at your breasts. you were a bit disappointed you didnt get to ogle at him like he had you, but youd seen him without a shirt enough times at the beach to satisfy curiosity.

"jj-"

his head whipped up so fast from trailing gently little kisses across the swell of your breasts, a worried expression crossing his face. "you okay baby? need me to stop?"

"no- no i just... you can keep going. i need more. i need you..." your breathing was heavy as were your eyes.

"you sure? im just trynna go slow and make sure youre okay. wanna take care of ya."

"im okay jj... i promise. this is what i want," you meant what you said too. there isnt anyone else youd want to do this with.

he gave me a look, once more chance to back out, before letting a deep rooted sigh out. sounded more like relief than anything.

his fingers hooked into the belt loops of your shorts giving them a firm pull, "these need to go. now."

and he didnt have to tell you twice, within seconds they were unbuttoned and being pulled past your knees and being thrown across the room with abandon.

the giggle that escaped your throat was involuntary as jj pulled you buy your ankles further down the bed so the back of your knees were hanging off the edge of the bed.

"jj! what are you doing??"

"m gonna eat, fucking starving. now spread your legs f’me. wanna see that pretty pink pussy," jj knelt to the ground, threw my legs over his shoulders with urgency, looking down and admiring the view before him. “you’re so fucking perfect…”

you didn’t think someone just talking to you could elicit a moan from you, however jj was always there to challenge you. like right now.

he was peppering small kisses down the inside of your thighs, along the curves of your hips, avoiding where you need him most trying to make you feel appreciated.

he’s doing a good job too.

his thumb gently glides over your sensitive clit with a featherlight touch making me shake with need, the other hand holding your hips against the mattress as you feel his lips finally capture your core and his tongue starts lapping at the bundle of nerves.

your hand flies to his hair gripping it tightly between your fingers eliciting a groan that vibrates through you as his tongue continues to skillfully pull every sound from you and send shocks through your body

theres a feeling of something toying with your entrance delicately, looking down to see him staring up at you with a needy, hungry look in his eyes. you gasp at the feeling, your eyes widening with a nervousness and desperation.

"'s just my finger baby, relax. it wont hurt i promise," he tried to reassure you gently as you nodded.

"feels good... keep going. please."

"yes maam," he smirks up at you before diving back into your slick folds, simultaneously ever-so gently pushing his finger into you beneath his chin.

was it normal to feel so full from just a finger?

holy shit what is it gonna feel like when hes actually inside you??

you tried your best not to think about it to avoid psyching yourself out and just trying to enjoy the feeling. your walls flutter around him and he can feel how close you are already with his finger pumping in and out of you painfully slow as he curls it inside of you.

his face his practically dripping with you when he looks back up at you, "hows it feel mama? talk to me."

your face is scrunched in pleasure as you shake your head quickly, your hands back to gripping the cotton sheets beneath you, "cant," you answer bluntly, out of breath as his finger works your mercilessly. it was the honest truth, the feeling making it hard to think straight, or at all really.

"oh cmon now i believe in you. tell me how good it feels... think you can handle another? youre so close gorgeous, let me help you get there..."

you practically squeal as he presses the second digit into you, the stretch a delicious sting that borders on uncomfortable. but the slickness greatly helps with the discomfort easing it almost instantly as jj keeps his pace consistent, your hips bucking off of the bed as you come apart on his fingers, your juices dripping onto his palm.

"holy shit mama that was so fucking hot... youre so tight," he presses small gentle kisses down your thighs as he talks you through your first orgasm. his forehead resting on your hip as he gathers himself.

it feels like the lack of oxygen has made you dizzy and oddly relaxed from feeling so breathless.

jj maybank just made you come.

jj maybank just gave you your first orgasm.

oh lord am i gonna have to ask for your forgiveness until the day i die. i might die right here right now.

"pretty mama i need you to say something... kinda scaring me," you lift your head off of the pillows to look down where he lays on you, his fingers lightly tracing patterns across your stomach.

"sorry," you run a hand over your face taking a deep breath, "just kind of... i dont know. calming down."

god even his laugh made you quiver.

"we can take a break if you need it- do you want me to grab you a water or someth-" you quickly shut him up by leaning down to kiss him

"i wanna keep going.. jj that was... eye rolling, moan eliciting, mind boggling-ly good. im okay i promise."

"youre killing me here baby-" he looked up at you as his hands roamed your body slowly and aimlessly. feeling comfortable in such a vulnerable state with her. "are you sure?"

you lean to the side diving into the drawer next to his bed where you figured hed have a condom lying around, you guessed correctly.

"stop asking me that, i know youre trying to be sweet but i already told you i want this. im not changing my mind. im not on birth control for obvious reason but-"

a groan from his lips interrupts you, the sound more like a struggled, suppressed moan. his head falling into the crook of your neck. looks like someone has a breeding kink. shouldve guessed it by that nickname.

"ill do whatever you want mama but youre literally naked holding my condom in your hand. im losing self control quickly."

you giggled softly, "youre okay with just the condom?"

"im okay with or without it. god, ill be perfect as long as im inside you."

it was your turn to moan this time as he takes the foil from you, ripping it open between his stupidly cute canine teeth, grinning from ear to ear as he rolls it on almost effortlessly.

watching him you realize it was the first time you could really drink in the sight of him... and how big he was.

"jj- i dont think-" you go to protest before he kisses you softly. so fucking soft for you in every way except for one.

"we'll make it fit," thats the only thing he says before he positions his body to loom over you, your hips meeting each other. his eyes light up and he reaches behind you grabbing an extra pillow. "lift your hips for me baby... good girl."

he adjusts the pillow under your hips comfortably, his hands gripping your hips to lower you then running down your legs to wrap them around his hips.

"i read somewhere that makes it better- for you. i dont know im not a chick. does it feel okay? are you okay?"

you could melt from his words, jj wasnt always great with telling people how he felt but he does one better. he shows them, shows you. always thinking of you and your wellbeing.

"its perfect jay, thank you," you smile up softly at him, "youre perfect."

the blond blushed at your words, placing one hand next to your head so he leans over you to whisper in your ear, probably to also hide how flustered that made him.

"ill go slow i promise... its gonna hurt a little but ill stop when you need me to. and if you wanna stop all together thats okay. youre in control baby. 'm at your mercy."

your hand reaches for stability, finding it tugging at the roots of his blond mop as his hand reaches between the both of you to align him at your entrance. the folds still slick from just moments ago.

hes pressing soft wet kisses to your neck, moving his hips forward just the smallest bit so his tip barely pierces your hole. you suck in sharply as you feel him, feel the pressure, the sting.

your gasp must have scared him, he lifts himself from you to look down at you with concern.

"you okay mama?"

all you can do is nod in response trying to keep your breathing steady. frankly, you didnt think youd be this tight. obviously hes not the size of your ultra big tampons but still. you were a bit naive.

"just let me know if you need me to stop... but you gotta relax or it wont fit. trust me, ill go easy on you but you gotta breathe babe. let yourself relax... im right here."

you nodded again, maybe it was lame but you were so focused on how he felt against you, you could barely speak.

taking another deep breathe you urge his hips forward with your ankles wrapped around them, and the sting intensifies as his tip finally goes inside of you, and you were already clenching around him.

hard enough that his arms wobbled for a slight second.

"shit mama, youre so fucking tight," he sighs in ecstasy, "jesus- stop clenching around me or ill blow like a two pump chump."

that got a chuckle out of you, even though he was completely serious. the sting goes away slowly, and you press kisses down his neck to calm yourself. you wanted your lips on every inch of his body.

"keep going," you begged, your voice abnormally high and breathy.

"there you go baby, made it through the hardest part. see? its not so bad... im right here baby."

he moves his hips forward again, and you felt another inch push into you. god how did you already feel so full?

and then another inch. and another.

how fucking big is he?

"jesus jj- so full... 's too much-" you whine, your hands clinging onto his shoulders, your polished nails pressing into his skin.

"need me to stop?"

you thought for a moment before shaking your head, "no.. need more. feels so good."

and with that he pushed himself all the way to hilt, fully pressed inside your sopping wet cunt. you moan loudly, forgetting john b is just down the hall in the living room.

jj presses his lips to yours, capturing them so your tongues meet in the middle, making every thought poof from your head. youve dreamed of this moment so many times and you know youre lucky that the first time feels just as good as the fantasy, if not better.

"move, jay i need you to move... please for the love god move your hips."

he moaned into your ear before pulling back and push back into you, again and again, setting a steady pace that was safe for the both of you. safe for you because he didnt want to hurt you, and safe for him because he didnt want to come in the next two minutes.

with your head thrown back on the bed, jj begins pressing kisses across your jaw, down your neck, focusing on the sweet spots he found before. making his way down to your collar bone, your chest rising and falling drastically as he continues to pump in and out of your swollen pussy.

and finally he makes it to your breasts, beautiful and full and ready for some attention, hips lips latch around one nipple while his free hand rolls the other between his fingers teasingly.

"so fucking perfect, so fucking mine," he grumbled against your chest before switching places. he pulls off of you with a pop, a sudden idea popping into his head.

his hips fastening their pace as he looks down at the ring on your finger, before taking your hand in his, and pulling that purity ring off.

your eyes widen as you watch him carefully, watching to see what he will do as he inspects it. or at least trying to as his hips slam into yours.

he takes his necklace off, and hooking the ring onto the string before tying it back onto his neck and leaning forward back the way he was. hovering over you, and now your purity ring, thats no longer needed, dangles in front of you like a taunt.

"dont need that," he whispers in your ear quickening his pace as he feels you clenching around him, so fucking wet for him you can hear the pornographic sounds of wet skin slapping against each other. only adding fuel to your fire, "wear it so everyone knows who you fucking belong to. youre mine, y/n. say it."

oh god.

"yours," you can barely speak without moaning, "yours jay."

he slips a hand between you, his thumb working your clit perfectly as he pounds into you pushing you to the edge of another orgasm.

"yea. youre mine? coming around my cock baby, youre squeezin me to death, you gonna cover me in your cum? yea?"

you squeal at the feeling, his words, everything, this is so perfectly overwhelming. you moan, almost scream, coming again just like he said.

and hes not far behind you, driving into you before you feel him twitch inside of you, spilling into the condom shuddering around you, trying not to collapse on you.

"holy-"

"shit," you chuckle finishing his though as another ripple passes through his muscles, he pulls out and you instantly feel empty, squeezing to find something that isnt there anymore.

he lays next to you with a very satisfied smile on his face.

more like a smirk really.

"ill be damned," you smile deliriously, turning to look at him, "jj that was... i couldnt have had a better first experience. seriously..."

"glad you enjoyed it mama," he wraps an arm around you pulling him into a chest as he starts to breathe normally, his heartbeat still racing though. "you okay?"

"im perfect jay... i loved it."

"well id be happy to be of service whenever youd like-" he teases.

you slap at his chest playfully, moving to wrap a leg around his before realizing how sore you were. and soaked. he sits up almost immediately seeing your hesitation.

"let me get something to clean you up..." he grabs his boxers pulling them back on to grab a warm wet cloth from the bathroom, crouching to clean you carefully and gently.

girls at school werent lying, aftercare was arguably the best part.

he treated you with such care and so much love that it didnt matter whatever anxiety you carried from what just transpired, you were happy you did it. even if it was with your best friend.

[saidrabbles]

hey, idk if you’re taking requests but can you write about y/n comforting gd when he’s feeling anxious??? please and sorry to bother you

in her presence

a/n: hello anon 🌼 your request was no bother, thank you for being so sweet. i’m not sure about how i feel of the writing style, but i hope you like it!

pairing: jiyong x reader warnings: none summary: kwon jiyong was making a comeback after seven years, as the iconic g-dragon. he knew he would get the nerves, but he didn’t realize how new and scary the nervousness would be, and he definitely didn’t understand why you were the only person who could effortlessly dissipate all of it away.

.

.

it’s been 7 years since he was surrounded by countless cameras, hands invading his personal space to touch up his makeup, fix his clothes. he thought he was ready, but his body was acting otherwise. he had an old habit of chewing on his nails when he gets nervous, but his hands slightly shaking, his eyes involuntarily avoiding cameras and people for that matter — that was new to him.

you were also new to him – you recently became friends but your presence makes him feel the calmest he’s ever been. not even youngbae, his best friend, could get him to shake off the nerves in the first few interviews he had.

today was an important day, as he’s appearing in the first radio since a long while, to greet his fans after such a long time. he asked for you to be there, covering the real extent of his nerves by telling you that he’d love it if you came and supported him on his first show.

.

.

you exited the cab, pulling your leather jacket closer around your body as you stepped into the windy weather. you came earlier than when the show airs so that you can see jiyong before he goes on live. it was his first appearance that will be aired live in a long time. and when he asked you if you wanted to see him off, you knew that he meant he wanted you to be there. he didn’t want to impose on you but you felt that it would mean a lot to him.

you were nervous yourself, sensing the growing fondness you have for him. you didn’t want to show that in any way because you knew that he just saw you as a friend, especially when seeing how he acts the same way with his other friends. you put your hand on your heart silently wishing today goes well, and went into the studio.

.

jiyong was impatiently waiting for you when he heard your voice, greeting the staff in the lounge area. he stayed in his place, even when his body almost jumped up to greet you. as your figure became clearer coming his way, he smiled widely, flashing you his signature gummy smile. stay calm, my heart. you shook the butterflies that were forming, and greeted him. “you’re early, the show doesn’t start until 30 more minutes.” jiyong tried to shrug off the giddiness he felt inside with the thought that you wanted to see him before going on air as the gdragon. “i thought we could hangout before the show, you know get those nerves off” you smiled knowingly.

“you would think it’s impossible to feel this nervous when you’ve spent almost all of your life in front of cameras” he huffed out a laugh. “no, i think feeling nervous is very valid. you haven’t been voluntarily in the public eye for about 7 years. if it was me, i’d be running out the door right about now.” his laugh echoed throughout the studio at the image of you running away. “seriously, how are you so effortlessly funny?” he was giggling at this point. “woah there, can’t tell you the secret to my humor! wouldn’t want you to do well in that too, considering there’s almost nothing you’re not good at.” he felt his cheeks become heated at your compliment and he prayed it wasn’t visible.

“10 minutes until we go live!” was all it took for him to feel his hands shaking again, his soon to be reality becoming closer by the second. he was lost in thought before he put his hands in his pockets, not wanting you to sense this weakness of his. but you saw. you noticed how he stopped meeting your gaze, how his hands shook before he hid them, and you felt this tug at your heart. you felt helpless with this boundary that you can’t cross.

but when the same voice called for the remaining time, and jiyong became too nervous to notice his hands out of his pockets, still shaking, you pushed the alarms in your head away from the forefront of your mind. your hand reached out to his, wrapping it so that your thumb was resting over the top of his hand, as you give his a gentle squeeze. jiyong looked up, eyes unable to focus on you. “focus on my voice only, ji.” your voice was gentle yet firm, and that’s what slowly brought him back to focus again, his eyes searching for yours. your thumb drew soft, reassuring circles on his soft skin, his body slowly relaxing, feeling safe.

“i’m…i..” jiyong tried to start. “it’s okay, i’m here. we can always talk about it later, just focus on your breathing for me, alright?” how you immediately knew what he wanted to say, he will never know. just like how he never knew why his mind and body never felt this safe with someone, why you felt like the home he’s always longed for. he’s dated before, fell in love before, but not quite like this. he could give you his everything and would do it willingly.

he got up, still holding your hand, and looked back at where all the cameras are. when he turned to you again, you were standing in front of him, arms open, like you are his to hold and he is yours to hold. then he suddenly got this frightening feeling that you might not feel the same, not in the slightest. but as his worries set its claws around his mind, you wrapped your arms around him, and the claws disappeared. you had one arm over his shoulder, the other arm under his arm, nuzzling your head just under his jaw, choosing the most intimate embrace known to man.

he felt the tight knots of his nerves coming undone in your warm embrace – and melted into the hug as he heard a tiny, almost inaudible relieved sigh coming from you. he didn’t care about who was looking and who was not. all he cared about in that moment, and probably for the foreseeable future, is the way you fit perfectly in his arms, like they were made for you. “don’t leave me…please?” you weren’t sure if he was asking about leaving the studio before him, or leaving him at all, but you allowed the fuzzy feeling take over you. “i won’t…” you held him closer, if it was possible “come back to me…will you?” you wanted to make sure that your feelings we mutually growing for one another.

he let go of the embrace, afraid of carrying you and running back home to relish in your warmth, but he pulled away just enough to look at your (e/c) eyes. “if you will take me, then i will go anywhere with you, (y/n).”

you tried your best to hide your flushed cheeks with a distracting smile, but you knew that he’s noticed everything when he returned the smile. “i want to hold your hand and go everywhere and anywhere with you, jiyong.”

[madridnoora]

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ Forbidden - Homecoming

Fifth instalment of the forbidden au - lsu!joe x oc

Instalments - one, two, three , three.two and four ౨ৎ

a/n: thanks for all the love on this au! I'm going to be writing some shorter blurbs about Joe and Daisy, so if you guys have any requests or asks feel free to inbox me :)

Summary: Joe accidentally breaks rule number two, and people on campus begin to question his and Daisy's relationship which leaves Daisy feeling angry and embarrassed. The LSU Homecoming football game against Florida creates more than one surprise for Joe.

⋆｡˚ word count: 13.0k

18+ Content. MDNI :). Mentions of drinking, smoking and sex. ⋆｡˚

Pale laptop light illuminated the dark room as Daisy sat at her cluttered desk typing away on a political science paper. A clicking sound meshing with the subtle heartbreak playlist that was playing from her phone. It was Wednesday night. Three days since she got back from Austin and she had spent it hiding away in her dorm room.

Cardigan by Taylor Swift came on shuffle. Daisy sat back in her chair, taking a break from the words she furiously typed on the painfully bright white screen. Since seeing Lucas, she felt almost heartbroken again. It was like seeing him had confirmed that they were done, that the last six months of her life were real and that she had in fact lost the one person she had ever loved.

When you are young they assume you know nothing.

It was to describe the complicated feelings that twisted at the organs inside her torso. She felt over Lucas but that in itself was enough to make her feel a cutting sorrow. One that banged at her chest with a deep pulsing pain. Seeing him on that field was like saying goodbye to her teenage self. It was like shutting the chest and locking it with a key, then throwing it in the ocean never to be opened again. That part of her and her life that she once loved now only existed in memories. She was mourning it.

Drunk under a streetlight, I knew you

Hand under my sweatshirt, baby, kiss it better

The memories weren't all bad. Lucas and Daisy had a complex relationship, one which took place over some of the most important years of growing up. They were just kids. Kids who were learning how to love, learning how to make mistakes and correct them. In the end, the bad outweighed the good, but that didn't mean the good never existed.

Daisy thought about the times they would dance around in the street after sneaking out to be together. The times they shared when no one was looking and it was only them. Sweet delicate kisses that always felt like the first. The fast beating heart that came with doing things for the first time. She lost her virginity to him. She reminicised on the innocence they had shared with each other, the way Lucas' hand was lightly shaking as he felt under her sweatshirt for the first time. A small smile found itself drawn upon her dry lips.

With a good memory, came a bad one. A way of her brain protecting herself from getting too carried away in romantic thoughts.

Chase two girls, lose the one.

Daisy had always heard rumours about Lucas with other girls. Mostly when they were fifteen. She could excuse that. They were both young and stupid, each of them doing childish things which they regretted. Once they matured, she never heard a single other rumour. Until he went to college. Then they came back. Rumours of him hooking up with girls at frat parties or with the Longhorns cheerleaders. She heard them from mutual friends from high school, people who went to the same college as Lucas. When she would bring it up, he would shut her down defensively. He would shout and scream about her lack of trust, and how she was letting jealous people tear them apart. A small part of her always knew that the rumours were true, but her heart wouldn't let her believe it fully. Her heart wanted to believe her first love. Her heart told her he could never treat her the way people were saying he did. So she stayed. She stayed for way too long. She would have stayed even longer if he never ended things. Maybe breaking up with her was the most loving thing Lucas had ever done.

To kiss in cars and downtown bars, was all we needed.

You drew stars around my scars, now i'm bleeding.

Every thing was so much simpler before they went off to separate colleges. All they needed was each other and no one else in the world mattered. He would make her feel special when no one else could, he would nurture her when she was sick, he would attend every cheer or dance competition he could. She would spend vacations with his family, she would be at every football game, every practice. They would have done anything for each other.

A wet droplet rolled down her warm cheeks. Tears bubbled in her eyes, now threatening to spill uncontrollably.

I knew you's haunt all of my what-ifs

The smell of smoke would hang around this long.

She thought about how things would have been if she never came to LSU more than she should have. She got into University of Texas, and it's statistically a better school but it didn't feel right in her gut. Her dad was an LSU graduate and her grandpa. Something in her stomach pulled her to LSU, like it was a magnet and she was metal. Lucas was the most angry she had ever seen him, he didn't speak to her for four days after she told him. He punished her with the cruel silence.

Maybe the whole thing was her fault. Had she have gone to Texas, Lucas wouldn't have been cheating, he wouldn't have got annoyed at her so much, the distance wouldn't have been an issue and they could have been happy. She ruined it.

The what-ifs would haunt her for the rest of her life.

What-if she stayed. Would it be different? or was breaking up always the fate that was written for them.

Tears poured from her eyes as she let herself feel the emotion. She needed this, she needed to let it all out. One last cry at the funeral of her old self.

I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired.

and I knew you'd come back to me, you'd come back to me.

Her last thoughts remained on what happened on the field. When the final whistle blew and Joe led LSU to a convincing defeat over Lucas and the Longhorns.

Joe didn't tell her what Lucas had really said. But Justin told Bella.

Bella told Daisy on the flight back.

'and Lucas was all like 'keep your fucking hands off my girlfriend' Bella told her the full explicit details with a lighthearted laugh. Daisy didn't find it funny. It was worse than she expected.

girlfriend.

She hadn't been that in a long time, yet he still claimed her like a possession. Even after it all, his hands lingered over her shoulders holding onto her like a lantern he couldn't let drift into the night sky. He held her down while every one else around her was able to float and fly. Chained her to his grasp.

Did he really miss her or did he miss being in control of her?

Her heart wanted to believe he missed her, but her head now outweighed those feelings. He just wanted control over her. He came back but only for the benefit of his own ego.

She should have known he would.

Lucas was no longer the boy she fell in love with and she was no longer the girl that loved him. They were dead, existing only in past lives.

Daisy took the sleeve of her jumper and wiped away her tears.

She needed this. One last big cry.

Then she broke the chain. The one which had been keeping her tied down and tied to him.

She was free to float.

and their story ended.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

Daisy and Bella sat on the grass of campus, soaking up the midday sun. Bags of lays chips, bottles of diet coke and fruit were spread around them as they enjoyed a picnic in their long lunch break. Neither of them having anymore classes for the day.

Daisy had been telling Bella of the new found closure she had experienced last night, how she had woken up feeling like a woman who was ready to take on the world. Bella told Daisy all about the double date she and Cassie went on the night before. It went pretty bad from Daisy's understanding. The guys were not anything like the pictures and also had absolutely no personality. Cassie and Bella had to beg the kitchen staff to let them leave through the back entrance just so they could get away.

'you should go on a date' Bella said nonchalantly and Daisy almost spat out her diet coke. She shook her head profusely. Daisy didn't date, she didn't go on dates, especially with people she had never met before. The whole idea of it made her skin crawl.

'come on, you're single! why not.' Bella tried to convince her.

'nope' Daisy was firm.

'I'm gonna set you up. I just need to find the right guy' Bella ignored Daisy's plea's and begs. Bella was going to set Daisy up with someone, she just had to take a week or two to figure out the right guy. Conduct thorough research and come up with a hypothesis on a man that would be perfect for Daisy.

Daisy went back to her lays chips and crunched them with annoyance until a shadowed figure blocked out the sun.

Both the girls turned to see who it was.

'heeyyyyyy!!'

It was Jada. Daisy breathed a sigh of relief.

'oh my god, hi!' Daisy stood up and greeted her with a warm embrace.

Jada was the captain of the LSU cheerleading team and a good friend from freshman year, one Daisy had been neglecting since the whole quitting cheer and football world.

'I haven't seen you in so long, you look so cute' Daisy held on to Jada's shoulder she looked her up and down. Jada was beautiful, like stupidly beautiful. Her skin so smooth it looked fake, her body built in the most insane way, her hair so curly and volumous, never once had she seen a hair out of place. She was always picture perfect.

'you too! i've missed you so much daisy dukes.' Jada's nose crinkled up as she sounded out the sweet nickname Daisy hated but could never shake. Everyone called her it, except from Cassie, Bella, Justin, Ja'marr and Joe. Most people from high school and back home just called her dukes. She had it coming the summer in tenth grade when she decided to wear nothing other that tiny denim shorts.

'sit. sit' Daisy said pointing the grass.

'okay, just for ten minutes. I have to get ready for practice'

The three girls sat once again on the pale dry grass. Small talk coming from each of them, all catching up about what they had been doing over summer and how the beginning of sophomore and senior year for Jada had been going. Then Jada says something that causes Daisy to stumble and spiral over words and thoughts.

'weird question, are you and joe burrow like hanging out?'

'NO' The word comes out of Daisy's mouth way to quick and way to strongly. Bella side eyes her with a furrowed brow of both concern and confusion. She hadn't forgot about the way Joe reacted to seeing Daisy and Ja'marr dancing in the bar and now this. Something was going on and Daisy wasn't telling her.

'I mean, uh' Daisy clears the nervous lump in her throat. 'We like spoke at a party a few weeks back'

Jada nods her head.

'Why'd you ask?' Daisy quizzes.

'Oh nothing. He like messaged three of the girls from cheer asking if they knew who you were and what your last name was' Jada said as she swatted a hand through the air like it was a nothing statement.

But it wasn't.

Daisy's heart dropped to her stomach. God, how fucking embarrassing. Her old teammates getting spammed by Joe because he wanted to know her last name. Could he be anymore obvious? Now she knew how he really had found her instagram, she had just assumed he had asked Justin like a normal person would. He was such an idiot. Vexation crawled through her veins.

Bella watches Daisy's reaction and what's happening is clear. She would wait until Jada left to bring it up.

'One other thing' Daisy looked to Jada.

Jada's got a nervous smile on her face and it makes Daisy start to feel queazy.

'Erm. I need you.' huh. Jada scratches her back briefly.

'It's the homecoming game next week and all my flyers are either injured or away on a class trip out of state. You're my only option.'

Not a chance. Daisy's face drops in almost horror as she realises what Jada is asking from her. She wants her to step in and cheer at the game next week. Daisy shakes her head quickly and lifts up a finger wagging it in the air.

'No, no. absolutely not'

'Daisy please' Jada gives her best puppy dogs and prayer hands begging her to consider it. 'you were like the best flyer we had. Please. I'll forever be in your debt'

Daisy can't even bring herself to consider it. There was no way she was ever stepping back on a football field to cheer again.

'Nope. I'm sorry Jada, but I can't. Hold some auditions and I'm sure you will find someone good enough' Daisy looks at her friend with sympathy. She felt bad. Homecoming night was the biggest night of the season for them. All the old alumni come to watch but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She didn't want to do it. It was too soon.

'Okay, well it was worth a shot' Jada packs up her things and stands up. The ten minute conversation now over. 'It was nice seeing you Daisy dukes, and you bells'

Daisy and Bella wave goodbye to her.

Bella glares at Daisy.

Daisy's eyes dart around trying avoid the death glare. She felt like a dog that had been found guilty.

'Sleeping with burrow' Bella kisses her teeth and shakes her head. Daisy's cheek flush a crimson red.

'Wow. It's sick truly. Sex with the number one quarterback and head frat boy' Bella continues torturing Daisy.

Daisy brings both her hands over her face and groans a loud groan. Bella is loving watching her squirm.

'God. I know, I know' Daisy says still into her hands.

Bella bursts into a laugh. She pulls Daisy's hands from her face.

'Reeelax. I'm kidding. I think this is good for you. To get out and have fun, as long as it's just sex'

'just sex' Daisy confirmed with a tight lip.

'Actually speaking of him, I need to go see him now' Daisy is reminded of the little texting stunt Joe pulled. Bella nods with a shrug, letting her know she is free to go ahead.

Daisy grabbed her stuff and rushed in the direction of the frat house he lived in. Since they last slept together, Daisy had ignored three of his texts, each one asking if she was up or telling her to come round. She had been hiding herself away in her dorm room in Austin, avoiding the world around her.

But now was done hiding.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

The front room of the frat house was a mess of food wrappers, beer bottles and dirty dishes. The smell was starting to sour, but they were oblivious to it.

Frat brothers sprawled across the stained brown sofa's, half of them taking rips from a bong. Joe sat on the other end next to Ja'marr and their housemate Matthew. They watched as some other brothers played Fortnite on the television screen, all while scrolling on their phones. Some of the brothers talked about the recent girls they had been hooking up with, some talked about classes and some spoke about sports. All of them in a chill state, lazily spending the day doing nothing.

The dramatic slam of the hefty dark wood front door causes them all to jump.

They hear footsteps on the wooden hallway walking towards where they're all sat.

They all look at each other with panicked eyes, none of them knowing who was coming. The boys smoking rush to hide the bong behind the sofa and frantic hands try to waft the smell away.

They hold their breaths.

Every single eye looking at the corner that opened up to the living room.

Their jaws hang ajar when they see who it is.

Daisy.

Her face is scowled. A piercing glare directed at only Joe. Her arms folded across her chest in dismay.

Every other boy in the room looks at Joe. Rule two wasn't exactly going well for the little situation Joe and Daisy had going on. Every single member of Joe's frat and football team knew he and Daisy were hooking up. Joe had to make sure they all knew she was off limits.

Joe keeps his blue eyes on her, and her only. It had been days since he last saw her and she had been ignoring his messages. But now here she was, stood in the front room of his house looking so delicious, even with the grimace look on her face. He didn't know what he had done and he didn't really care all that much. She didn't intimidate or scare him, instead he found the whole tough girl thing she had going on cute.

He checks her out with a arrogant smirk. She's wearing a cropped navy blue striped t-shirt with the neck hem cut so it sat off the shoulder. It exposes a white lace bra strap and a collarbone which looked oh so kissable. On her bottom was a familiar distressed denim miniskirt, the same one she had been wearing when they first met. Her tan legs were bare, some simple nike trainers on her feet. When Joe meets her eyes again she some how looks even more angry.

'are you fucking serious?' Joe is taken aback by her violent words. The boys in the room all hold their breaths, Ja'marr tries not to laugh by covering his mouth and looking at a blank spot on the wall.

'what' is all Joe can get out as his holds his hands up defensively.

'rule two' Daisy uncrosses her arms and places her hands on her hips.

Joe lets out a scoffed laugh and puts his hands out in a questioning manner. He had no idea what she was talking about, he hadn't told anyone he didn't need to.

The frat boys are eating up every aspect of the situation. All of them eating fake popcorn as they watch the argument unfold.

'messaging the whole of campus trying to find my instagram. I've got girls from the cheer team asking me about you, about us.' Daisy spits in exasperated breaths.

A crowd of 'ohhhhhs' and 'ahhhhhhs' sound out from the frat boys around them as Joe had just been exposed in front of them. Ja'marr no longer holds in his laugh, instead he's slapping at his knee in hysterics. Although Joe was his best friend, it was nice to see him get humbled every once in a while.

Joe sits still amongst the now chaotic room. He had asked the cheer girls if they knew her before he ever knew she was on the cheer team. He never thought his desperation to find her instagram would come back to bite him. But here it was, biting him...hard.

Joe doesn't even know how to respond, because quite frankly there is nothing he can say to make the situation better. All he can do is try to save face and dignity in front of his frat brothers and teammates. He goes coolly nonchalant and joins his friends in laughing about the situation.

'my bad, sweetcheeks' He offers her a glance and a shrug before he goes back to the egotistical grin he often wore.

'you're so insufferable sometimes' Daisy says coldly causing the room to quiet and Joe to look back at her.

She turns around and Joe thinks she's leaving, but she doesn't.

Instead, Daisy starts to walk over to and then up the grand staircase. The staircase which leads to where Joe's bedroom is. He gulps, the bottom of her ass cheeks just slightly peeking out from under her short skirt. He feels the blood begin to rush to his crotch. He frowns when he realises all the other boys are looking at her as well.

'look t'fuck away' Joe growls at them as he stands up and rushes to follow her on the stairs. The boys listen, all of them darting their eyes back to the paused Fortnite game on the television.

Joe catches up to her and guides her into his room quickly with a forceful hand on her lower back.

His bedroom door slams.

'Turn the volume up' Ja'marr says to the rest of the boys as he points to the television.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

'What the fuck are you doing?' Joe quizzes her with a demanding tone while she places her bag on the floor of his messy room. LSU training clothes lay around every where, spray canisters of deodorant scattered over his desk. An Ohio state poster hanging crooked on his wall. He navy duvet crumpled up and unmade. Pillows in every direction.

'No. What the fuck are you doing?' Daisy snaps back at him, swirling around to face his frowning face. Joe's jaw is tightening as he huffs and puffs at the little stunt Daisy just pulled. Barging into his house, embarrassing him and then walking up the stairs with her ass out. Daisy's own glare of annoyance back and stronger than ever.

Joe marches close to her and pick her up under the armpit. She yelps out a shriek of surprise. Joe throws her onto his bed, climbing on top of her. Daisy moves the strands of hair that landed on her face from the force of the landing and when she opens her eyes again she meet's Joe's indigo ones. The look she came to be familiar with in his eye.

'You'

Joe presses his lips to hers quickly. Fours days was too long to go without his fix of her. Their sex was rough and fast paced, desperation clinging to every move he made, every kiss, every thrust. Every moan and grunt that passed through each of their lips was one that had been building up in the days they hadn't seen each other. Combined with the anger and irritation in the air between them, it made the sex intense and fiery. They fucked like they hated and loved each other at the same time.

They finished quickly but some how their orgasms were stronger than ever before. The elation and exhilaration more powerful than ever before.

Joe gets up from the bed first and throws her one of the t-shirts he has laying around on the floor. Daisy, once again cleans herself up. Joe watches as she wipes his seed from bare breasts, they bounce a little bit in response. He likes the sight. He likes her bare naked in his bed wiping him off her.

Joe grabs himself some clean boxers and throws Daisy her panties. He then rummages through one of his drawers and chucks something else at her. It hits Daisy in the face, she looks at what it is, holding it up in her hands.

A spongebob t-shirt.

She pulled her hands down, uncovering her face and looking at Joe.

'you can stay tonight' Joe says casually, not really focusing on her and instead setting up the playstation in his room, his eyes scanning for the television remote.

'What if i don't want to' Daisy quipped back with attitude.

'Then get your shit and leave, I won't stop you'

Daisy's eyes widened in disbelief and her mouth hung agape in shock. Joe's words were brutal. Brutal in the sense that they made it very clear he did not care what she did. Joe didn't care whether she stayed the night or left.

Daisy huffed. Reluctantly, putting on the silly shirt he had gave her.

Joe smiled. He clambered back into bed next to her with the remote and a playstation controller.

'knew you'd stay' a cocky jab flew from his lips as he loaded up Fortnite.

That night Joe and Daisy spent a quiet evening together, Joe ordered them so takeout food and played video games while Daisy worked on her paper in bed next to him. They didn't talk much, they didn't need to, the silence was a comfortable one. They did fall asleep beside each other. In the night, they got uncontrollably closer. Joe wrapped one arm over her waist. One he removed hastily before she could wake up and notice it come morning.

The next night she stayed over again, leaving before sunrise on Saturday morning as Joe, Ja'marr and Justin had an early morning flight to Nashville, Tennessee for a game against Vanderbilt.

The departure was an awkward one. Leaving in the clothes she came in two days ago while walking past frat guys still awake from a night of partying. Ja'marr, Justin and a few other teammates stood with their bags waiting for their quarterback to come down the stairs so they could head to the airport.

'Hey texas' Justin gave her a quick hug and she shyly nodded. She assumed Justin knew, but she hadn't been a hundred percent until he had seen them together.

'Joe, we're running late' Justin says with subtle dismay.

'Yeah, I know man, I overslept' Joe's excuse fell flatly, especially since they could hear his bed creaking in an early morning rhythm and Daisy was hot with rose tinted cheeks. Joe was late because of early morning sex and they all knew it.

'I'm gonna head.' Daisy's voice was unusually shy, and slightly raspy. She avoided the eye-line of all the boys, picking at the skin around her nails.

'Have fun' she said and offered a small wave as she turned to walk out of the frat house door. Ja'marr waved back and Justin nodded. The atmosphere was uncomfortable. Justin hated it. The thing between Joe and his friend was ruining his relationship with her.

'Later' Joe didn't even look at her when she left out the door. An unfazed act.

'Just because it's meaningless, doesn't mean you can't look at her when she says bye man' Justin's words are laced with ever so slight disgust for Joe's ungentlemanly actions. Justin picked up his bags and headed out to the cars waiting to take them to the airport.

'What's his problem?' Joe asked Ja'marr.

Ja'marr shrugs and follows Justin out.

They would return from Nashville on a late flight in the evening.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

Joe and the LSU football team beat Vanderbilt 66 to 38 in a dominant performance. Ja'marr was the standout player of the game, he caught six passes for 123 yards with two touchdowns. Joe had a heismann worthy performance again and threw for six touchdowns.

Daisy didn't watch the game. Just because she had closed the book on her previous relationship and attended a game this season, didn't mean she wanted to have anything to do with the football world.

She did hear about it though. It was all over social media.

She decided to send Joe a quick message. Nothing to personal or forward, just something casual, something friendly.

daisyymoore

nice game!

About an hour and a half later, she got a response.

@.Joeyb_9 sent you a message

thanks. plane just got in. meet me at my place at 11. Just walk in.

Daisy pondered the message. She had stayed at Joe's two nights in a row, if she stayed tonight it would be the third. That felt too personal, too involved, too not casual. She didn't want to find herself in a complex situation with Joe. It was meant to just be some fun, some fun that was forbidden. Joe was like her dirty little secret, and that was all.

She sent back a text saying she was busy and locked her phone.

Joe never responded.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

From Monday to Thursday of the next week nothing other than the boring usual happened. Daisy would attend class, Joe would attend training. Daisy hung out with Cass and Bella. Joe hung out with Ja'marr and Justin. Daisy would get a text from Joe, she would go round and they would hook up. One night she stayed, the other she didn't. The whole thing was becoming routine. It was beginning to become difficult to imagine the times when she wasn't having casual sex with the quarterback.

Now, it was Friday night.

Daisy, Bella and Cassie all snuggled up under a blanket with a bowl of sweet and salted popcorn watching the fourth episode of Vanderpump rules in a row. A half drank bottle of wine on the floor beside the one they already drank. They were taking mouthfuls every time Kristen Doute did something unhinged.

Being a nineteen year old girl was fun sometimes.

They're laughing at an episode when a knock on the dorm room door startled them. Daisy gets up to answer it with apprehension. No one ever knocked on the dorm room door, not unless it was with a noise complaint.

She clasped her hand around the silver door handle and pulled it open with caution.

Her brows furrowed. There was no one there, at least that's what she thought until she heard a desperate plea from beneath her.

'Please, I'm am coming to you because I have no other option, please Daisy'

Daisy's head turned sharply to the floor. Jada was on her knees doing prayer hands.

'This is the most important game of the season for me, please Daisy. As a friend if nothing else, please be a flyer.'

Daisy gaped in amazement as Jada begged and begged with wide puppy dogs eyes, ones which had panic drawn across them. She was desperate, more desperate than Daisy had ever seen anyone. On her knees humiliating herself all in the hopes of making Daisy change her mind.

'I've asked everyone and you're the only one who knows the routines.' Jada's pleading cries sound out once more. People in the dorm hallways beginning to watch on in confusion. Weird looks being given to both of them.

'I don't even train anymore' Daisy said.

'Yes you do. Coach sees you tumbling in the gym all the time' Daisy got caught out in her lie, it left her feeling bare and exposed.

She looks back to Cassie and Bella for guidance. Bella just shrugs but Cassie nods her head, telling her to do it. Maybe it's the wine she had drank or maybe it was the fact that her friend was in need of saving and she was the only one who could do it. Either way, she knows come tomorrow morning she will regret her decision.

'FINE. Fine. I'll do it, just get up of the floor' Daisy said grumpily. Jada jumped to her feet and smashed into her with a forceful, tight hug. Squealing sounds rang out from both Cassie and Jada. Cassie excited to once again see Daisy cheerleading.

'I'll ask Justin for them spare home game tickets. I have to see this' Bella said with amusement as she pulled up her phone and typed away quickly.

All of a sudden, the red wine begins to wear off and a sinking, sobering feeling manifests itself in the belly of Daisy.

What had she just agreed too?

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It felt like a nightmare. Like it wasn't real, like it wasn't a choice she actually consciously made last night and that she would wake up at any moment.

But it was real.

She could tell it was real from the purple, yellow and white LSU cheerleading uniform that Jada had dropped off bright and early, along with gel, a comb and hairspray. It hung on the closet door and Daisy glared at it with squinted eyes. It had been almost a year since she last wore one, and she cursed herself for the fact she ever did.

Today was the stupid homecoming football game against Florida.

She felt like she was going to throw up.

Every single aspect of the day made her feel nauseous.

From having to get ready and do her hair just right, to meeting and mingling with her old teammates, some of whom she disliked, to actually having to perform on the field, to the inevitable moment Joe saw her on the sideline. Every single part of today made her feel faint, she just wanted to snap her fingers and have it be done, over with and never thought about again.

'I can do your hair, like old times' Cassie said cheerfully as she finished getting ready for the game herself, way earlier than she needed to be. Bella and her planned on joining in on the tailgate that took place before the game.

'Why did I agree to this?' Daisy groaned as she sat in the chair of her desk facing the mirror and began to do heavier makeup than she usually did.

'Because at one time, whether you believe it or not, you actually enjoyed it. Lucas doesn't have to ruin everything y'know' Cassie said as she began to slick back the top half of Daisy's silky brown hair. Her words make Daisy think about the times she was a cheerleader. It's hard to say she never enjoyed it because before college it was her most passionate hobby, but then she came to LSU and Lucas would always complain about her doing it so she ended up loathing it so much she quit.

I guess tonight she could find out whether she actually did hate it or if she had just been manipulated by an insecure ex boyfriend.

Once her hair and makeup was done, Daisy put on the tight uniform and looked in the mirror, her poms in her hand. She felt indifferent about the way she looked, she didn't love being in the uniform but she didn't hate it either.

'You look so pretty, Daisy. I'll see you at the game later, look for me in the bleachers' Cassie reassured and hugged Daisy, then Daisy left her dorm room to meet with her old teammates.

They had to get their before the game to run some routines and prepare for the fans arriving.

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Gunna blared through the speakers of Joe's car as he, Justin and Ja'marr headed to the stadium for the game. He felt ready, determined and fully prepared for the homecoming game ahead. Florida was a top ranked team in SEC meaning it could be a tough night, but he knew he could lead his team to a victory. He had spent hours and hours reviewing game footage and revising the playbooks.

'You know Bella asked me for two tickets last night. Cass and her are coming' Justin dropped the bomb as she scrolled aimlessly through instagram stories. Joe wasn't shocked that Daisy wasn't coming.

'How you feel about that qb? only girl at college who doesn't care about seeing you play' Ja'marr tries to wind Joe up again, thinking that if he kept trying enough Joe would eventually crack and admit that maybe it was something more than casual. But Joe wouldn't admit something that wasn't true.

'I don't care what she does outside of my bed sheets' Joe shrugged nonchalantly, with an air of arrogance. He wasn't lying either, for the most part. He didn't care what Daisy did, where she went or where she didn't go, as long as she wasn't hooking up with teammates, his frat brothers or other football players. He wouldn't miss her tonight, in fact he might not even message her to come over. He might scout for another girl in the after party they were throwing if they won. That seemed like a good plan, he didn't want to get too involved with her. He didn't want her catching feelings for him or anything.

Joe rounded the corner to the stadium and drove into the underground parking. Ja'marr looked out the tinted window of the backseat and saw a sea of people dressed in purple and gold in the distance. The pre-game tailgate already firmly underway. Chants happen in the distance and he can see the cheerleading team amping up the fans. Shakes of poms in the air, and signs which read 'geaux tigers' being broadcasted proudly.

'I got a good feeling about tonight' Ja'marr said as Joe parked up the car and they all made their way to the locker room.

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Purple figures started to fill up the bleachers of Death Valley. An hour before the coin toss was scheduled to take place. The atmosphere was charged with an electric anticipation, excitement seeming to hang in every breath.

The LSU football players ran out onto the field to a roar from the existing crowd, Florida ran onto the field with a subtle chorus of boos.

Joe runs throwing drills while Ja'marr and Justin practise routes. All of them coming together for brief moments to stretch out their muscles to avoid injury. Small talk encapsulates conversation. Until, Justin lets them know he was going to speak with Bella and Cassie briefly, just to 'make sure they found their seats'. Joe rolled his eyes as Justin ran down field. He didn't understand why Ja'marr would grill him about Daisy but left Justin alone when it came to Bella. Just because they weren't sleeping together didn't mean they weren't something more than friends.

More fans crammed into the stands of the vast stadium, a hyped music playlist rang around in the speakers. Cheerleaders were practising tumbling along the side lines, while others formed pyramids and did tosses in front of the crowd to get them pumped up for the match.

Joe and the team would always glance at the cheerleaders, they were typical young boys. Most of them members of fraternities, so when you put a bunch of girls in short skirts and tiny tops around them, they were always going to look.

Joe and Ja'marr checked them out. Eyes trailing to women up and down, most of them they recognised but some they didn't. Perhaps they were freshman who had been called up.

Ja'marr slapped Joe on the chest to get his attention. Joe's eyes lingered on a blonde cheerleader who was looking at him with a seductive smirk. He shot her a wink and watched at the blush crept up her cheeks. It could be her tonight.

Ja'marr backhanded his chest even harder. He was looking at something down field, someone standing out in a huddle.

Joe's eyes still remained on the petite platinum blonde girl. She was pretending to stretch, but really she was just giving the star quarterback a show in hopes of getting something more than his attention later.

Ja'marr whacked him once more, this time with enough force to take some of the wind out of Joe, even with all the padding on.

'WHAT MAN' Joe shouted in annoyance as his teammate breaks up the eye fucking he was doing. Ja'marr doesn't respond, his eyes just keep looking down field. Joe let out a disgruntled huff and let his eyes look to the sight that had his best friend so hypnotised.

'holy shit'

'gah damn' Ja'marr lets slip before rushing a hushed sorry.

There, stood in a huddle of other cheerleaders was Daisy and it was like everything was moving in slow motion. Like the world around Joe had paused and she was the only thing playing. The noise of the stadium was now only a dull ringing in his ear, the blonde on the sideline forgotten about in seconds.

Her hair is half up, slicked back and pinned behind with a small purple bow. The rest of it was cascading down her back in perfect curls. The light breeze of the warm Louisiana evening made strands float in the air around her. She brought a delicate hand to her face and swiped away a stray hair. A strange feeling pinches at Joe's stomach.

Olive skin glows under the warm floodlights as she talks with some boys dressed in the LSU mens cheer clothes. She laughing at something they're saying, nodding her head long with them and whatever they were saying. A pom filled hand rests on one of the guys' biceps. A different feeling rattles against Joe's ribcage.

Joe looks at what she's wearing. It's the same as everyone else on the cheer team but somehow she's wearing it differently. The tight purple skirt, which has a gold outline on the hem, clings to her body in different way, it stops on her thighs just below the end of her ass cheeks. It's tightness makes her ass look bigger than it ever had before. Joe swallowed. His eyes rake over her flat and toned torso, one that he knew all too well. Then they stopped on her chest. She was wearing a cropped purple top with a matching gold trim, one which has LSU written across in bold golden yellow lettering. Small diamonds dotted across the words. Once again, it clings to her chest snuggly, her small breasts more pronounced that they ever usually were.

Every moment is in slow motion. Thirty seconds plays like thirty minutes in Joe's mind. Never did he think he would see her here, in Death Valley, let alone dressed like that.

'Gator's incoming' Ja'marr says but Joe doesn't register it, all he can think about is how good she looked in purple.

Joe's jaw stiffens when he understands what Ja'marr meant. There were a few Florida players on their way into to tunnel and heading back to the away locker room. They should have just kept going but they didn't. One of them, a nobody, reaches out a hand and taps on Daisy's bare arm capturing her attention. Joe watches as they engage in a conversation, she's smiling at the nobody, exchanging words that were killing Joe. What did he want? What were they talking about? Why did he touch her? The conversation is over quickly, Daisy waving quickly as a goodbye to the swamp donkey as he runs off into the tunnel. The feeling is no longer just a pinch, it grasps at Joe's insides and twists them viciously. He raggedly breathed through clenched teeth.

Ja'marr looked at him.

'Don't say a word' Joe shot at him, his words stabbing sharply. They head off down into the tunnel themselves. The game would be starting in forty minutes.

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Daisy was talking with some of her friends on the team, discussing what had just happened. One of the gator players, who went to high school with her, had come up and said a simple 'hello'. The guy was in the grade beneath her and was on the football team with Lucas. Daisy had also happened to have been friends with his long term girlfriend all throughout high school. They just exchanged some small talk about how small the world truly was, how his girlfriend was and how college was going for each of them. The gator wasn't a starting player this season but he hoped he could be next year.

Her talking get's interrupted.

'you're looking nice tonight miss daisy!' a flirtatious chirp came from behind her.

She turned over her shoulder. Ja'marr's cheeky grin plastered across his face. She didn't think they had seen her, she thought there was a slim chance that maybe, just maybe, they would be so distracted by the game that they would have never known she was on the sidelines but alas, she was wrong.

Joe's in front of him, walking with his head down, one hand gripping his helmet by his side and the other gripping over the padding of his chest. Daisy looks as him after offering Ja'marr a sarcastic smile back.

Joe doesn't look at her, he only glances. He tilts his head up to where she's standing, their eyes meet for only a split second. His face was hard, locked in tense emotion and his eyes are cutting her sharply with a glare she had never seen from him. He continues walking into the tunnel, not saying a word. Ja'marr runs behind, following him. They left behind a confused Daisy, and some even more confused cheer teammates.

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The marching band vibrantly sounded out LSU's signature pre - game song while Daisy and her team performed a routine to the crowd. She could see Cassie and Bella violently waving at her with both arms, trying to get her attention. She can't help but start laughing at them.

Once the routine was over, the marching band had performed and the national anthem had been sang, it was time for the cheerleaders to line the tunnel exit where the football players would be running out from. She stood beside Jada and shook her gold and purple poms in sync with the rest of her team. Nerves clawed at her beating chest. Joe's glare had left her feeling anxious. He had never looked at her like that before, a look which held so much annoyance and disgust.

The trumpets sound, and the smoke begins to pour. The beating of cleats on the pavement turns to crunches on the grass as the players come barrelling out. They're hooting and hollering adrenaline filled fighting words. Daisy can't help but look for his number and his name on the jersey, but she doesn't spot him.

That's when she sees him emerge from the corner of her eye. Not running, or bouncing out the hallway, walking slowly out the mist of smoke. Helmet off, hanging by his side in his hand. Head held up high. An aura of self-confidence and courage swirling around. Daisy's eyes slightly widen, she had never seen this side of him, especially not this close up. The cocky and arrogant frat bro persona was no longer there, and a poised leader stood in his place. It was attractive.

Joe keeps walking but stops in front of where Daisy is stood, only for a brief moment. So brief, that many people wouldn't have even noticed it but Daisy did. Joe's eyes trailed up her body, up her purple uniform before he met her eyes and shot her a look. It was a look she couldn't make out due to how quick it came and went. A fleeting glance with unwritten words that she couldn't read.

Then Joe ran. He ran onto the field placing his helmet on his head and clapping his hands to rally his team. The coin was tossed and the game kicked off.

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The purple filled stands were noisy all throughout the game. The first two quarters were tough, Florida's gators convincingly going toe to toe with LSU's tigers. When the second half came, that changed. Once again, Joe Burrow gave a heismann worthy performance, the stand out moment being when he threw a 53 yard touchdown to the hands of Ja'marr Chase.

Joe remembers when he did it, when he let the ball go from the cannon known as his right arm. It spiralled through the air with force and might. An instant touchdown. The student crowd roaring in happiness, screams leaving their mouths in celebratory glee. His team celebrated down field but he was looking at only one thing; the jumbotron.

Daisy's smiley face flashed upon it.

Daisy had been on it a lot, cheering and pushing a fake cheesy smile. One which made the apples of her cheeks bunch up and her eyes gleam. To Joe, it felt like every time LSU did something it would cut to her. The camera lingering on her for longer than it should have, getting her from every angle it could. Every dance move or cheer, captured in high definition and broadcasted across the nation. Joe knew this happened, cheerleaders going on camera when LSU score points. It happened in every tier of football but tonight it felt more than ever.

Sometimes Daisy would wave to the camera, portraying a sweet and innocent all american girl act but Joe knew she wasn't innocent. Not when she was between his bed sheets arching for him, screaming out moans of euphoric pleasure.

'Why is the cameraman so close' Joe had groaned to Ja'marr after he spotted her on it again. His pale blue eyes darting to see the cameraman in person. It was just some scrawny student media personnel, one with brown thick rimmed glasses and charcoal coloured greasy hair. He was considering going and pushing him away from her, asking what his deal was, but he knew his deal. Clearly, the camera man liked the look of Daisy more than he liked the look of the other cheerleaders.

Joe kissed his teeth.

Cameramen, Football players, Nerds, Male cheerleaders.

Was there anyone Daisy didn't infatuate?

It pissed him off. Joe didn't like the idea of sharing her with others, not because he liked her but because he didn't like the idea of losing. If Daisy went and hooked up with some nerd from her class that meant that he was better than Joe, that's how his mind worked. Never in his whole life had he had a girl not begging to be with him. Daisy made him feel on edge, like their was always a chance he would just be her second choice. Joe wasn't second to anyone or anything.

But he had no right to stop her from meeting other people, just like she had no right to stop him. It was just sex, meaningless and casual.

The game ended LSU 42 - Florida 28.

That meant a party, one that Joe wasn't really in the mood to attend, but he had no choice. It was in his house after all.

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Multicoloured strobe lights flashed across the walls of the busy frat house. Heavy rap music boomed from the speakers with a shaking bass, beer pong was set up in the crowded dining room. Beer kegs littered across the deep wood floors. Drunk boys and girls lined every corner of the house. Weed stunk out the place, and vape clouds acted as make shift smoke machines. The kitchen table was crammed with various bottles of liquor, each other them half drunk as the celebration reached it's peak.

Joe was sprawled out on the couch, the petite blonde cheerleader from the field was sat on his knee. Her arm loosely laying around his neck and across his shoulders. Her name was Abby. Every few seconds, Abby would flick the poorly done extensions over her shoulder while she whispered sweet nothing's in Joe's ear, but Joe wasn't listening to or looking at her.

Daisy was standing on the edge of the dance floor, speaking with a guy. He had come up to her around forty minutes after she arrived and they hit it off. His name was Daniel. He was member of a different fraternity down the row of houses, but he studied animal sciences. Kind of a juxtaposition. He was sweet, different from most of the other frat guys she had met. She wasn't that attracted to him or anything but they were getting along really well, both of them sharing the same sense of humour. It was nice, pleasant to just be able to speak and get to someone new.

Joe's eyes narrowed on the interaction taking place. He'd been watching it since the guy first approached her. When he saw it first happen, he turned to his housemate and asked if he knew who the guy was.

'Daniel Kingston, plays lacrosse and lives a few frats down'

Joe grimaced and clicked his teeth in the sound of his disapproval. He made his way to the kitchen and grabbed another drink. As he did, he tried to catch Daisy's eye line, but it didn't work. She was too focussed on her conversation with Daniel. Her cheeks flushing as she let out a laugh.

Fine. Joe thought.

and that's when he set off into the crowd to find a play mate of his own. He saw the girl from the field and knew she would be an easy girl to please. A couple flirty exchanges and dark glances later they made it to the couch where they are now, but Joe can't seem to shake the gaze he has set on Daisy.

Dark eyes filled with irritation dance over her body. Joe looks at what she's wearing, no longer was she in the purple cheerleading uniform from earlier. She was in a small black pleated mini skirt, with a simple white cropped t-shirt. Some platform low top Dr.Martins on her feet, white socks poking out up to her ankles lined with a lace frill. He can feel the fabric around his crotch begin to tighten. He distracts himself by looking away quickly and taking another drink of his beer.

Daisy felt holes burning in the side of her body, she felt the lingering eyes of someone across the room. She took a break from her conversation with Daniel and turned her head to the direction they were coming from. She wasn't met with eyes. Instead, for the first time that evening, she saw Joe. He was laid back on the couch, taking a sip of beer and Daisy's old cheer teammate Abby was sat on his lap. Her head resting in the crook of Joe's shoulder, her hand stroking his arm. Her eyes for a brief moment widened in shock, not expecting to see the sight before her. She bit her lip, to hide any emotion from showing on her face.

Daisy couldn't tell how she felt. Joe wasn't doing anything wrong but it felt weird to see him with another girl. Daisy gulped and brought her own red solo cup to her lips, relief in the form of strong sweet liquor. A light burning sensation cascaded down her chest.

She glanced back at Joe. His hand was now rubbing on the thigh of Abby in a way that looked almost comforting, something more than just typical hook up behaviour. She drank another gulp, this time it was bigger than her last. Her green eyes still remained static on the couch.

Joe let himself look back to Daisy, only this time she was looking back. A light frown or a mild scowl was decorating her face. Daniel was still talking to her but it was clear she was no longer listening. Joe felt the smug smile creep back onto his face, his actions with Abby had effected her. Made her notice him and he liked it. He shot her over a wink. One which was cheeky, slightly cruel. He continued stoking the thigh of Abby and brushed some hair from her neck, planting a small peck. He did it just so Daisy would see. When he looked back to see her reaction, a momentary panic set it.

Daisy was no longer stood at the corner of the dance floor and neither was Daniel.

Joe shot up off the couch, ignoring Abby's whining voice asking him what he was doing or where he was going. She called for him to come back but Joe only one thing on his mind -- finding Daisy.

The room was dark, the strobe lights making faces only appear in brief flashes. Hands sway in the air as like a G6 by Far East Movement plays out the speakers. A frat party classic that had already been played multiple times. Slurred drunken voices shout out the lyrics as Joe tries to push his way around the crowd, looking in every direction for a five foot three brunette. His frustration growing and growing with every drunk person that gets in his way, at one point he gives someone a hard shove.

when sober girls around me they be actin' like they drunk

when sober girls around me they be actin'-actin' like they drunk

Every lyric that sounded out of the overplayed song only irritated Joe more. He couldn't see her, not over the stupid flashing lights and clouds of fruity vape smoke.

'Move, move out the fuckin' way' shouting as he pushed people.

He ran a stressed hand through his blonde hair, a sheen of sweat sticking across his tanned skin. The overfilled room creating an unbearably humid heat.

'yo man, y'good?' A hand grabs his bicep, he shrugs it off quickly before looking at the culprit. It's Ja'marr, a deep ruby red haired girl is clinging his his arm drunkenly. Lipstick smudged on her face and around Ja'marr's lips. Usually, Joe would have taken the moment to give Ja'marr a pat on the back, a silent well done for his hookup but he was in too much of a hurry.

poppin' bottles in the ice, like a blizzard.

when we drink we do it right gettin' slizzard.

'You seen Daisy?' Joe shouts over the loud music. Ja'marr shakes his head with a light shrug of his shoulders and a small downward turn of the mouth.

'Daisy Moore?' The red head shouted at Joe over Ja'marr.

Joe nodded quickly, not questioning how the red head knew her name.

'She's over there, near the kitchen' The red head pointed in a direction which Joe didn't hesitate to follow, once more working his way through the warm and sweaty crowd of intoxicated students. Thankfully, at six'four Joe was able to see over most of the crowd. His icy eyes scanning no longer in frustration but anger, an anger which intensified when he finally spotted her in the sea of people.

it's that 808 bump, make you put your hands up

make you put yo hands up, put yo, put yo hands up.

Daisy is hanging from the neck of Daniel. Close. Way too fucking close. Daniel's hands are on the small of her lower back, maybe even the top of her ass. It's too dark for Joe to make it out clearly. What he can see, is that their foreheads are almost touching and they're looking at each other as they bounce along and sing to the song.

Daisy pulls her arms from off the boys neck, putting them in the air while she presses her body against his. Slowing rolling her hips up and down. Joe watches as Daniel moves a hand from her ass and instead moves a stray hair from her face, looking longingly into her gleaming eyes. Joe knows what going to happen next, and he won't let it.

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The bright lights of the frat house startled party goers. The once booming music, now cut off at the source. Groans of displeasure and disorientation bounce around the house.

Some frat guy in a backwards cap and a Ralph Lauren three quarter zip stands at the top of the stairs with a bright orange megaphone.

'IF YOU'RE NOT A BROTHER OR WITH A BROTHER, GET THE FUCK OUT'

The party was over.

People rushed around, grabbing their alcohol and belongings from all over.

Daniel grabbed Daisy's hand and led her toward the large double doors at the front of the house. She followed coyly behind him. People stumbled past them, every one pushing their way out the doors as the frat brother on the mega phone told them to hurry up. Daisy kept her head down and looked at her feet, making sure she wouldn't stumble over herself while walking out.

When she stepped outside, the cool air hit her like a refreshing cold drink on a summer afternoon. Clean air filling up her second hand smoke filled lungs. She goes to take another step, still clinging onto Daniel's hand but the feeling of another hand on her forearm hits her like an electric shock.

Joe waited outside by the door to grab her. He saw her walking out behind Daniel as he gave her a hand to cling onto. How kind of him, Joe's sarcastic thoughts only served to piss him off more. He quickly grabbed onto her forearm and pulled her back in to the house.

It all happened so fast. Daisy was disorientated, not understanding what was going on. One minute she was following a new friend out of the frat house, the next she was back inside it by the tug from an unknown hand.

'Bro, she's min-' she heard Daniel's voice argue at the doorway.

'Stop fuckin' talkin.' She recognises Joe's voice and raises her head abruptly. She watches as he shoves Daniel out of the front door with such fierce force that he falls over. Then he slams it shut, a startlingly loud thud echoing in the empty house. Everyone else had left already.

Drunk frat brothers and their girls wobbled to different bedrooms rooms.

'Go to my room' Joe's not looking at her. His toned back, covered by the grey cloth of his t-shirt, still facing her. His tone was harsh, and commanding. His voice low and brooding.

'No' Daisy quietly chirps back, Joe's demeanour was intimidating. So intimidating, she wasn't sure if she wanted to fight him and his words in this moment.

Joe let out a long breath of frustration, his hand rubs over his eyes.

'Get up the fucking stairs now' His tone now somehow even more harsh, his words no longer only commanding but filled with a rudeness Daisy was not fond of.

'N.O...no' Her response is feisty, spelling out the word for Joe in the hopes he would understand it better.

Joe spins around, his muscular arms cross over his chest in agitation. First, she was flirting on the field with some gator football player, then she ignores him all night, then she decided she's going to leave his house with another guy and to top it all off, she was now refusing to do what she was told.

Daisy swallows a lump in her throat as she meets Joe's intense, burning gaze. The air around her being sucked away by an invisible vacuum.

Within a split second, she's in the air. Thrown over Joe's shoulders and he's marching them towards the stairs.

Ja'marr snickers from the couch where he and the red head are sat cuddling, watching the Joe and Daisy show go down with amusement. Daisy starts hitting Joe's back and wriggling as they are halfway up the stairs. Cries to put her down ring out. Joe doesn't falter, he could barely feel the small hits coming from her dainty hands.

When they get to his room he slams the door shut with his foot and put back Daisy down on the ground. Daisy pushes herself away from him, more annoyed by Joe than she had ever been before.

'What was that?' Her chest rises and falls quickly as she gawks at him in utter disbelief.

Joe doesn't reply to her, instead he begins to take off the wristbands that lay colourfully on his forearm. He unclasps the watch he always wears and places it on the cluttered desk in the corner of his room.

'You have no right to drag me around like I'm just some sort of toy you pick and choose when to play with' Daisy's voice is shaky. She was never good with confrontation, but this was something that needed to be said. Joe was hooking up with, or at least kissing the neck of her teammate Abby and that was okay, but the second she talks to a guy he becomes demanding and controlling. He was hypocrite. and a total jerk.

'You're a real fucking headache sometimes, y'know that Daisy'

Joe's words cut through Daisy's stomach like they were a knife. Slicing her open and letting her bleed out. Flashes of her past relationships arguments rattled her mind.

'Me? This is all you Joe. My night was going fine but you ruined it' She spat back at him, a deep loathing crawling up her spine.

'You don't do what you're told' Joe's called back. His jaw set tight and heavy, nostrils lightly flaring.

Daisy's face contorts in confusion. What was he on about? She quite literally did anything Joe asked of her, she stayed away from his teammates, his frat brothers and other football players. She never told anyone about them, she never stopped him from speaking to or hooking up with other women.

'Flirting with that fuckin' gator player.' Venom laces his words.

Daisy looked at Joe again, only becoming more confused. She hadn't spoken to any football players other than him and Ja'marr, she hadn't even spoken to Justin. He vanished somewhere after the game. Likely hanging out with Bella.

'On the sideline, in your little cheerleading uniform' Joe tries to make her remember but he only winds himself up more in the process. Why couldn't people just stay away from her, it would make his life so much easier, so much less stressful if he didn't have to worry about what situations she was getting herself in. He recollects seeing her for the first time, in her purple LSU uniform and watching as some nobody player steals her attention. Joe shakes his head, trying to shake the thoughts away.

The realisation dawns upon Daisy. She has to let out a laugh.

Joe's face contorts in further anger, his nostrils flaring and huffed breaths exhaling from his chest.

Daisy collects herself and lets out a sigh. 'That was just some guy from high school, he was in the grade below. I also happened to be pretty good friend with his girlfriend, the one he's still with. We were talking about her. Dumbass'

The world crumbles around Joe. He's humbled. Standing at six foot four but feeling minature. Joe let his own ego, and his own cockiness control his thoughts and over reacted at something minor.

'and Daniel?' Joe tries to save face by bringing up the other problem from tonight.

'and Abby?' Daisy jabs back. 'You say no teammates but she's on the cheer team'

'Please. You stood in for one game, you're not on the team' Joe tuts with a click of his teeth as he shuts down Daisy's line of argument.

'Is she your type?' Daisy wonders out loud.

'Is Daniel yours?' Joe challenges her question.

Daisy walks over to his bed and sits on it. She folds one leg across the other and begins to untie her shoelaces. She looks at Joe, scanning the emotion behind his ocean eyes.

'No' her word is hushed, almost whispered out into the silent room that surrounds them.

'Are you and Abby hooking up?' Daisy probes for more information almost shyly. She thinks back to seeing them together on the couch, the way Joe stroked her thigh in a manner which looked more comfortable, more friendly than he ever was with her.

'That shit doesn't concern you' Joe shuts her question down quickly.

'I was just wondering' Daisy backs herself up.

'we aren't, but don't ask me shit like that again' Joe answers her when he can tell her face has dropped, when he can tell her shoulders are tenser than usual and her plump lips are pouty.

'You and I, we're friends, dais. That's it. Friends who fuck meaninglessly' Joe clarifies the agreement.

'we're not friends Joey' Daisy speaks frankly but an aura of seduction clung to every word. Her voice soft and sweet like honey. She picks up her shoes and puts them over by a pile of dirty football clothes and a half deflated football before returning to sit on the bed. She leans back, her forearms propping her up. Every movement dripped in sex appeal.

Goosebumps dotted over Joe's skin as he heard his nickname roll off her tongue like a gentle harmony. 'Joey'. Most people called him Joey, but when she said it it sounded different, more delicate, more soft, more sexy. His deep eyes roamed slowly over her body, taking in every detail of her.

we're not friends joey

Her seductive words play back in his head as he studied the curves he was beginning to know so deeply.

Daisy's own piercing stare is looking at him, her eyes darting over his athletic form studying the muscles she was beginning to know so well.

and they're in that place again. The Garden of Eden, in which both of them are a forbidden fruit waiting to be bitten into. The place where the air is so thick with tension, it makes it hard for them to breathe. Pounding heart rates and yearning thoughts control every movement. Green and blue eyes glossing over with a deep hunger that needs to be satiated. They needed each other.

Joe doesn't hesitate, he rips his grey t-shirt over his head and chucks it in any direction. He goes to get on top of Daisy.

She puts her leg up. A pointed foot on his bare chest stopping him from coming any closer.

The pleats of her black skirt fall backwards and can see what was hidden underneath it. A sheer red lace thong was all she had on. His mouth waters at the sight.

'Thought I was too much of a headache for you' Daisy's words are slow and tormenting. She dragged out the insult he had called her only moment prior. She couldn't let him get away with it that easily, she had to see him squirm. Her foot was still placed on his toned chest, right in the center, holding him back from being able to touch what he so desperately desires.

'dais-' Joe starts.

'say you're sorry' Daisy cuts him off. Joe looks at her wide eyed. Daisy was never one to be commanding, especially not in the bedroom. That's where he took control. But now she had switched the roles, and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

'don't play fuckin' games with me' He grumbled.

'say you're sorry' She repeated her words firmly.

'FUCK!' Joe glances at the red lace that is torturing him. An agonising throbbing sensation in his crotch.

'I'm sorry' His words are small, pushed out his mouth unwillingly but it's enough for Daisy to feel accomplished.

'thank you baby' Her soft voice purred, her leg dropped from his chest swiftly and she lefts him have full access.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

Ragged breaths ripple through the room. Warm, humid air clings to them. They're naked, skin to skin, pressed against each other as Joe bury's his length inside her with fast thrusts. Her hands grip and tug at his silky hair, soft moans leaving both of their mouths. Joe's head in the crook of her neck, nipping and pinching at her collarbone with his teeth.

The red lace panties long gone, thrown on the headboard of his bed, decorating it like they were a trophy.

Daisy wraps her legs around Joe's waist, bringing him even closer. She wanted to feel every inch inside her. The wooden bed creaked around them sounding out a painfully obvious rhythm. The headboard banged lightly against the white walls.

Joe's teeth nipped at her perky breasts, one hand moving to grab the other, lightly massaging it.

Joe flipped them in a swift manoeuvre. Daisy now perched up on top of him, sitting pretty on his thick length. It was rare she was on top. Very rare. She looked down at him, feeling some slight nerves run through her system.

'ride me cowgirl'

His large hands gripped tightly at her hip bones, tender squeezes which made her feel more reassured.

Slowly she began to circle her hips, ever so slightly moving up and down as he remained inside her. Joe guided her every move. Deep eyes traced her toned figure, her waist small and her hips wide as she straddled him. Her breasts lightly bouncing up and down, hypnotising him. Her abdomen contracting with every whine of her waist, with every drawn out roll of the hips. Her olive skin glowed with sticky dew, a testament to the heat they created in the room. Strands of her brunette hair lay messily around her peach flushed face, bouncing with her every movement. A plump pink lip bitten between her teeth. Her head tossed back in pleasure, eyes closed looking up the the ceiling. Silent prayers to god even when she was sinning.

The strange feeling pinched at Joe's stomach again. He couldn't take his eyes off her, an aura as golden as the summer sun shone around her. She looked ethereal, like an angel sent down to earth from heaven. She didn't look real, she was a sight that seemed too good to be true.

He shook away the thoughts with a couple hard blinks, focussing no longer on the sight of her but the pleasure she was giving him. The transactional, meaningless sex between them.

Daisy picked up her pace, leaning slightly forward. Her open palms pressed onto his strong chest as she bounced on his length, feeling him deeply. Joe smacked her ass leaving behind a harsh red mark and a soft, stinging sensation that sparked an electric thrill within her. Her mouth parted with a subtle whimper, one that makes Joe smirk.

'you like it huh baby?'

Daisy could only nod her head as she continued riding him. Her stamina tiring, and her legs beginning to ache. Joe could tell. He could feel it in her slowing pace, and the ragged breathes she let out.

He curled a warm arm around her and flipped them once again, so he was back on top of her. Her weak legs shaking against his rib cage as she instinctively wrapped them back around his wide abdomen. His gold chain dangled against her chest, a sweet cooling sensation briefly skimming over her burning skin.

'let me make you finish' Joe breathed softly into the sultry air around them. Sloppy wet kisses laid on her chest as he looked up at her through his eyelashes.

'you been so good for me' His words sound almost teasing, almost mocking. A bold playful glint sparkled in his eyes as he watched her squirm beneath his soft touches.

'you want it baby' Joe whispered. The room more silent than it had been all night as their movements paused. Joe still inside her dripping flower.

Daisy whimpered. She hated when he did this. She hated begging for him but he made her feel too good to resist. Her kitty purred for him, pulsating in deep yearns.

'i want it' a shy whisper from her soft, full lips is all it takes.

Joe begins to thrust into her, this time faster and harder. Daisy's nails grip onto his back. Scratching hard as she tried to control the pleasure overtaking her body.

Both of them were close. Their climax's pooling with a strong pressure in the bottom of their torso's.

Daisy reaches it first. Joe places a gentle hand on her mouth as she cries out his name louder than she ever had before. Joe stifles a laugh, a cocky one. If he hadn't covered he mouth, she may have woken up the whole fraternity.

Joe continues pumping into her, his own high coming closer and closer, he's about the pull out when Daisy's words stop him. Hitting him like a cold slap to the face.

'You can finish inside me y'know. I'm on the pill'

Joe looks up briefly to the sky. A silent thank you in his thought. Why hadn't she told him this before?

He pins her leg up as he continues his hard pumps inside her. Jaw clenched, eyes tightly shut as he prepared himself for the ecstasy that was coming.

He came inside her. His toes curling at the feeling.

Tired breaths sounded out softly in the muggy sex filled air. Foreheads pressed against each other as they both came down from the adrenaline of their blissful highs. For a brief moment, their eyes open and meet each others. Daisy's eyes soft and doe like. Joe's gaze a tender one. Unreadable meaning written in each of them. Deafening silence filling up the space around them.

After two seconds, their eyes widen in realisation of their closeness. Joe jumps off her, leaving her bare skin coldly laying in his navy sheets. Daisy, suddenly feeling exposed, grabs the blanket and covers herself. For the first time, she didn't have to clean herself up.

Joe rummaged through the messy middle drawer of his dressing table, grabbing her a pair of his boxers and the same spongebob t-shirt she always wore when she stayed round. He placed them at the end of the bed for her to grab, before he himself grabbed some boxers putting them on.

Daisy shuffled in the bed as she put the clothes on he had given her. The boxers were baggy and the t-shirt fit her more like a dress, but they were comfortable. This was the most aftercare Joe ever offered her, so she took what she could get.

'Pass me your phone' Joe said casually, holding out the palm of his hand.

Daisy did so hesitantly. She watched as he tapped at her screen a few times and typed something in, then tossing it back on the bed beside her.

He'd added himself as a contact.

She looked at him and he could feel her questioning gaze.

'It's easier to message this way and uhh-' Joe said as he scratched the back of his head with a hesitation to his next words. 'just in case you need anything or whatever' He tried to complete his sentence coolly but it wasn't effective. Was this him trying to say he cared about her? Daisy wondered or maybe it was just because it was easier to organise their hookups. Daisy went with the second option.

They slept beside each other once again, underneath the comfy sheets of Joe's bed. This time closer than usual. Her back pressed against his. The warmth of his skin radiating against her all night long.

Sweet dreams softly filling her slumber.

౨ৎ

[paucubarsisimp]

Could you write for dad!Jude where you two have a toddler daughter who is absolutely obsessed with Jude. Her crying when Jude has to leave to travel for games. You explain to her that daddy needs to leave for work, her not fully understanding as she is only like 3 years old. Then she decides to help you bake chocolate chip cookies for Jude as he is coming back home. Her running to his arms screaming “daddy!” “daddy!” in joy when he walks through the door. Her babbling to him about what she was up to the past few days when he wasn’t here. Jude is just so happy to back with both you and his daughter - his two favourite girls 💕💕

dad

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

summary: basically the request!

warnings: none

tagged: @barcapix, @universefcb, lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

the house felt a little too quiet, a little too empty. jude had been away for a few days now, traveling for an away game, and while you were used to the occasional time apart, it always left a small void in your heart. you missed him, of course, but more than that, you could feel the sadness in ella. the house was quieter when jude wasn’t here, and the usual sparkle in ella’s eyes dimmed a little.

you stood in the kitchen, wiping down the counter, but your thoughts were elsewhere. the sound of ella’s soft sniffles from the living room made you pause. your little girl was a sensitive soul, and the separation from jude was proving harder than she had expected. she was so young—barely three—but already so in tune with the love and affection between her parents.

“mommy,” you heard her voice call, fragile and full of longing. you turned, sighing softly, and saw her sitting on the couch, hugging her favorite stuffed bear tightly. her eyes were red, and her lip quivered, making your heart ache.

you walked over to her, kneeling in front of her with a warm smile. “hey, sweetheart. what’s going on?” you asked, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from her face.

“i want daddy,” she whispered, her small voice breaking. “where’s daddy?”

you sat beside her, wrapping her in your arms as she curled against you. the sweet smell of her baby shampoo mixed with the soft scent of the cookies you had just started baking together, but it didn’t seem to lift her mood. “daddy’s on a trip, honey,” you said softly, rubbing her back in soothing circles. “remember? he’s playing football for his team.”

“but i want him here,” she murmured, her tiny hands clutching her stuffed bear tighter, her little face so serious. “he’s my daddy. he’s supposed to be here with me.”

“i know, sweetheart,” you whispered, holding her close. “i miss him too. but you know what? daddy’s doing something very important for us. he’s going to help his team win, and when he comes home, we’re going to have a big celebration, just the three of us.”

“but i want him now,” she said, pouting. “i need him, mommy.”

your heart swelled with love for her. it was tough seeing her so upset, but you understood. she was so little and her world was so centered around the people she loved. you leaned in and kissed her soft hair, murmuring, “i know, baby. i wish he could be here with us, too. but guess what? we can do something special for him, and when he gets home, he’ll be so happy to see us.”

her eyes brightened at the thought of something fun. “what can we do?”

you smiled, wiping away a tiny tear from her cheek. “how about we bake some cookies for him? he loves your cookies.”

“cookies?” she repeated, her voice lifting with excitement. “for daddy?”

“yep! we’ll bake the yummiest chocolate chip cookies, just for him.”

her face lit up in an instant, the sadness dissipating as she looked at you with big, eager eyes. “okay! i’m gonna make the best cookies for daddy ever!”

you laughed softly, lifting her up into your arms. “i have no doubt about that, princess. let’s go wash our hands and put on our aprons!”

the next hour flew by as the two of you made a mess in the kitchen. ella, standing on a stool to reach the counter, was covered in flour from head to toe, her little apron swaying as she enthusiastically mixed the dough. her tiny hands were uncoordinated but determined as she carefully dropped chocolate chips onto the dough, her concentration so serious it made you smile.

“mommy, is this enough chocolate chips?” she asked, holding up a bowl full of the precious little morsels. she grinned, already getting chocolate on her cheek.

“that’s perfect,” you assured her, handing her another spoonful. “we want lots of chocolate in each cookie.”

“daddy’s gonna love them,” she said with a nod of determination. “and i’m gonna tell him i made them all by myself!”

“well, you certainly did most of it yourself,” you agreed, chuckling. “but we did it together, didn’t we?”

“yeah!” she replied, her face lighting up. “we make a good team, don’t we?”

“the best team,” you said, your heart melting at her sweet innocence.

you both worked together, laughing and sharing little moments of joy as the dough came together. ella was a natural—well, sort of. she might have spilled a little flour here and there, and there were a few more chocolate chips on the counter than in the bowl, but the cookies were made with so much love.

“mommy,” she said, peering at you over the edge of the bowl, “what do you think daddy’s doing right now?”

you smiled, wiping flour from your cheek. “well, i think he’s probably getting ready for his game. he’s probably putting on his kit and talking to his teammates.”

ella nodded thoughtfully. “i want to talk to him. can we call him?”

you paused, running your fingers through her messy hair. “you know, we can’t call him right now, sweetie. but we can leave him a special message. how about we make him a little card?”

ella’s eyes lit up again. “a card for daddy!”

you laughed, “yes, a special card just for him. he’ll love it, i’m sure.”

as the dough rested in the fridge, you both sat at the kitchen table, creating a colorful card for jude. ella’s small fingers grasped a crayon, drawing random shapes and scribbles, clearly proud of her artwork. her face scrunched up in concentration as she carefully drew a heart and a big smiley face. “this is for daddy,” she said, her tongue poking out slightly as she concentrated on coloring the heart in.

“that’s beautiful, baby,” you said, watching her with affection. “daddy’s going to love it. he’ll think it’s the best card ever.”

ella beamed up at you, clearly pleased with herself. “i want to make sure he knows i made it myself.”

“he will, sweetheart. he’ll know,” you reassured her as you carefully tucked the card into an envelope. “and when he gets home, we’ll give it to him along with the cookies.”

as the card dried, you made your way to the oven, setting the temperature just right, and slid the dough onto the baking sheets. “okay, baby, we’re almost there,” you said, reaching out to grab ella’s hands. “let’s set the timer and then we can wait together.”

ella nodded seriously, her tiny face full of purpose. “i’m so excited for daddy to come home. i want to see him right now!”

“me too,” you replied, giving her a reassuring hug. “but you know, it won’t be long now. we can finish our cookies, and then we can enjoy them together while we wait for daddy.”

a few hours later, ella was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. she’d been watching the clock all afternoon, asking a dozen times when daddy would be home. you couldn’t blame her. the anticipation was building, and you could feel the excitement in the air.

finally, you heard the familiar hum of jude’s car pulling into the driveway. ella’s eyes widened as she bolted toward the door. “daddy’s home! daddy’s home!” she screamed, running down the hallway at top speed.

you followed behind her, a smile spreading across your face as she reached the door and practically launched herself into his arms the second he stepped inside. jude caught her effortlessly, lifting her high into the air as she giggled with glee.

“daddy!” she squealed, her tiny hands wrapping around his neck. “i made cookies for you!”

“did you?” jude asked, his face lighting up. he kissed her cheek and set her down. “well, i can’t wait to try them!”

you walked over, your heart full as you watched the reunion unfold. jude had such a special bond with her, and the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at ella made everything feel right again. he turned to you, pulling you into his arms for a long, loving kiss. “i missed you both so much,” he murmured. “being away from you two is always the hardest part.”

“i know, love,” you whispered, resting your head against his chest. “but now you’re home, and we’re all together again.”

ella tugged at his sleeve, her little face serious. “daddy, can we have the cookies now?”

jude’s smile grew even wider. “of course, sweetheart. let’s have a cookie party!”

the three of you made your way to the kitchen, where the warm, freshly baked cookies sat waiting. ella immediately grabbed one and handed it to jude with a big grin on her face. “here, daddy! i made this one just for you.”

jude took the cookie, his eyes twinkling as he pretended to inspect it. “it’s perfect,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “thank you, princess.”

you watched as she proudly handed you one as well. “i made it just for you,”

you watched as she proudly handed you one as well. “i made it just for you, mommy!” ella exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement.

“thank you, baby,” you said, taking the cookie from her small hands. “it’s the best cookie i’ve ever had.”

jude chuckled softly, taking a bite of his own cookie. “these are incredible. i can’t believe you made them all by yourself.”

ella beamed, her cheeks flushed with pride. “yep! and i made a card for you too!”

“a card?” jude’s voice was full of affection as he crouched down, looking at the small envelope ella had handed him earlier. he carefully opened it, his face lighting up as he looked at her drawing.

“this is amazing, princess,” he said, holding up the card for you to see as well. “i love it. it’s the best welcome home gift ever.”

ella giggled, her hands clasped together. “i drew a heart for you and mommy, and i drew a smiley face! i want you to be happy.”

jude wrapped his arms around both of you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “i am happy, more than you know,” he whispered, his voice full of love. “you two are my world.”

you smiled, leaning into him. “you’re our world too, jude. we missed you so much.”

“i missed you both,” he said, his voice tinged with emotion. “this is why i do it all. for you two.”

ella, her face lighting up, jumped up from the table. “daddy, can we play now? we can all play together!”

jude laughed, standing up and scooping her into his arms. “of course, we can play. what do you want to do, princess?”

“i want to play tea party!” ella said, bouncing up and down. “you have to drink all my tea, daddy!”

jude nodded, a playful glint in his eye. “sounds perfect. i’ll be the best tea-drinker there ever was.”

you watched the two of them, your heart swelling with love. jude had a way of making even the smallest moments feel like an adventure. you could see it in the way he looked at ella—like she was his whole world. and you were so grateful for that. there were no other two people you would rather have in your life.

after a little while, the three of you ended up sitting on the living room floor, playing with ella’s tea set. jude held his teacup awkwardly, pretending to sip from the tiny cup as ella giggled and pretended to pour him more tea. her laughter was like music to your ears, and seeing jude so at ease with her, so fully present, made you feel like the luckiest person alive.

“mommy, do you want some tea too?” ella asked, holding up her tiny teapot.

“i would love some,” you replied, taking the tiny cup she offered. “thank you, darling.”

“we’re a family,” ella said seriously, her tiny face full of concentration as she served more tea. “we’re the best family ever.”

you smiled, feeling your heart swell at her words. “yes, sweetheart. we are.”

jude leaned over and kissed you softly, pulling you close. “this is what it’s all about,” he whispered, his voice full of warmth. “you, me, ella. together.”

you nodded, resting your head against his shoulder. “together,” you echoed.

as the evening wore on, the house began to feel more like home again. the warmth of jude’s presence filled every room, and the sound of ella’s laughter became the soundtrack of your evening. you spent the rest of the night curled up on the couch, watching movies as a family, laughing, sharing stories, and simply enjoying each other’s company. for the first time in days, everything felt right.

when it was time for ella to go to bed, she insisted on giving jude another round of kisses before she curled up in bed. “goodnight, daddy,” she said sleepily, snuggling into her blanket.

“goodnight, princess. i love you,” jude said, kissing her forehead.

“i love you more,” ella replied with a yawn, already drifting off to sleep.

jude smiled as he watched her for a moment, then turned to you, his eyes soft. “you’re an amazing mom,” he said quietly. “she’s lucky to have you.”

you shook your head, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “we’re both lucky to have you,” you replied, your heart full of gratitude. “you’re the best dad she could ever have.”

jude leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, tender kiss. “i’m just doing my best to be the kind of dad you both deserve.”

you smiled against his lips. “you’re more than enough, jude.”

with one last look at your sleeping daughter, you both slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind you. jude took your hand in his as you walked back to the living room, settling back onto the couch together.

“i’m so glad to be home,” jude said, pulling you close. “there’s no place i’d rather be than here with you and ella.”

you snuggled into him, resting your head on his chest. “i’m so glad you’re home, too. it’s not the same without you.”

he kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you. “i’ll never take you two for granted again. i promise.”

as you lay there, your heart full of love and contentment, you realized that no matter where jude went, no matter how many games he had to play or trips he had to take, there was one thing that would always stay the same: your family. you, jude, and ella—together, always.

and that thought, that simple truth, made everything feel just right.

don’t forget to leave a request!

[lurkingshan]

Thoughts on ThamePo

I finally got some time this weekend, so I decided to go ahead and binge ThamePo, a show many of you seemed to enjoy and that quite a few people have told me is one of the more solid to come out of GMMTV's BL lineup in awhile. I told a few friends I would share thoughts when I watched it. Let’s go!

The TL, WR: I had a fun time watching this show and agree it managed to avoid a lot of GMMTV shows' worst pitfalls, but I also found the writing around the core plot to be an inconsistent mess. I'll break down the good, the bad and the huh from my perspective, so only read on if you care to know. Disclaimer: I am not a LYKN fan and in fact knew almost nothing about them before watching this.

The Good

The show looks fantastic. As soon as I turned it on I said "is this a Parbdee production?!" And it sure was. It seems GMMTV picks one BL a year that it's willing to actually fund high production values for, and ThamePo was the lucky winner of this round. It was quite a startling contrast having just watched My Golden Blood.

The flirting between Thame and Po in their talking stage was a lot of fun. I don't think it made me swoon quite as hard as some of you, but I was charmed. Is memorizing someone's phone number the new height of romance?

Drake and Sammy were here! And looking cute! I was happy every time they showed up.

Nano's colorful sweaters. I want every single one.

All of episode 10, which was my personal favorite of the show. It was the only episode where I felt like they had a strong episodic plot and theme that they executed well and that showed a realistic sequence of events around how idols are treated by their fans.

Baifern learned something about how to love and support her idols without crossing boundaries. This girl made me so uncomfortable for the whole show and I was glad they had her realize she was wrong and speak directly into the camera about it. GMMTV owed us that after the disastrous handling of this issue in Only Boo. Plus, Baifern growing meant I could enjoy the absolute comedy of her reaction to finding out who Mr. B was. Ciize is so funny.

Noble idiocy was given the respect it deserves: none.

I liked the resolution for the romance, and that ultimately what Thame and Po wanted was just an ordinary relationship where they could spend time together and pursue their careers on their own terms. It was wonderfully straightforward and low drama.

Contra GMMTV's usual pattern, this show's strongest run was its last four episodes, and I actually thought the finale was strong given the story they had set up for themselves. I appreciated that rather than indulge in the fantasy ending of Only Boo, MARS had to suffer real consequences for choosing their personal lives and orchestrating a breach of contract. They had to reckon with the fact that being idols was directly at odds with the way they wanted to live, and make a choice. Kudos to the show for that.

The Bad

It feels like this script was written by someone who doesn't really understand the idol industry or how anything works. Much of the plot for MARS and the business machinations of managing them was nonsensical and contra how idols are actually managed in the industry. It was extra jarring to then cast a real idol group and have them act out this weird incorrect version of their reality.

Relatedly, the writing for Pemika was all over the place. We are supposed to see her as a smart businesswoman who knows what's best for their careers even as she is very unkind to them as humans, but the way she handled Thame throughout the show was ludicrous. First of all, it is the industry norm for idols to do solo work while staying in their group, so for her to insist on dismantling MARS so that Thame could go solo made no sense, and the entire plot hinged on this! It's not only bad artist management--she is deeply pissing off and damaging her relationship with her most important performer--it also just doesn't make sense from a revenue standpoint. Why kill MARS, a popular idol group with a large fanbase, when you could just negotiate with Thame for a solo album in exchange for another MARS album and keep both revenue streams? Pemika's approach was counterproductive. I was intrigued by what they tried to do with her in certain moments, but it didn't hang together because there were too many logic gaps.

On that note, I think the biggest problem with the way the MARS plot was constructed is that if they are already a successful group, most of the plot does not make any sense. Agencies don't destroy successful and profitable groups just for the hell of it, and if Thame is the leader of a successful group with a powerful fanbase he should have more power than the show implied. The whole story makes a lot more sense if MARS was struggling to break out and didn't actually have fans yet, but the show tried to have its cake and eat it, too.

This is a matter of personal preference, but I personally did not care for Thame's characterization as an extraordinarily selfless idol with no ego who only cared about his friends at the expense of his own career. Please, show. A little more nuance and complexity to his motivations would have been nice.

The whole subplot with Jun pretending to hit on Po was just stupid and I found it to be a very frustrating diversion that was mostly there to stall getting Thame and Po together. They already knew they liked each other and his interference did not accomplish anything except making me wonder why Thame considers that asshat his friend.

Must GMMTV continue to stab me in the heart by making me listen to the Last Twilight OST over and over again?? Write a new song!

On that note (look away stans), the music performances in this show were just unforgivably bad. I will not go into further detail so as to not hurt anyone's feelings (but you can come sit by me in the DMs if you want to talk shit).

The Huh

I don't understand why Thai idol dramas keep making getting recruited to Korea the standard. Not only is it deeply unrealistic to suggest that an industry already teeming with talent is eager to recruit middling talent from elsewhere, but if your goal is to promote the tpop industry, focus on tpop!

On top of the business plot not making sense, the way they presented the group and their roles was just strange. Idols all have to have baseline competency in singing, dancing, and rap--you don't have one member who does each like the show kept saying. I got confused every time the show reverted to this framing. Don't even get me started on the concept of Nano, the successful idol who *checks notes* doesn't know how to sing.

Let me not also forget that these are supposed to be famous idols, yet they are constantly casually hanging out in public spaces with no fans approaching them. Every time they sat around as a group in a park I wanted to scream.

Which of course leads me to my incredulity that so much of Thame and Po's flirtation happened in public, outside, in front of tons of onlookers, and somehow they were not spotted every time despite Thame being famous. As fucking if! The way the story ignored this reality for the first 2/3 of the show really undercut the final arc when they suddenly remembered idols can't date. And right after the group handled Pepper's scandal, Thame was back to holding Po's hand outside again. I felt like I was taking crazy pills.

I was also salty about Pepper directly encouraging Thame to pursue Po only to turn around the next episode and tell him idols can't date. Sir, what the fuck.

The whole thing with Mick was kind of a miss for me. They made a big deal about his incompetence in the first few episodes, then he functionally disappeared for half the show, then they revealed he was pretending to be bad at his job as some roundabout way of helping them, I guess? It was a half-baked idea poorly presented.

Since I mentioned Only Boo up top, it would be remiss of me not to mention that if ThamePo takes place in the same universe as the cameos imply, this plot makes even less sense because Moo already broke down this barrier and idols can now have boyfriends with no consequences! (Seriously though if you're gonna have them cameo at least let Moo speak I love that boy).

The show should not have been in the bubble. So much of the romance plot and the contrast between Pepper/Gam and Thame/Po would have been strengthened if their sexuality mattered.

Lastly, I'll just say that I found this plot a strange one if GMMTV's intent was to use the show as a vehicle to promote LYKN. The entire plot is that the agency thinks Thame is the only talented one and the rest of the group is holding him back, but he's a Good Person so he will stay with them anyway. If I was anyone else in LYKN I'd be side-eyeing this plot big time.

In conclusion: This was a fun binge but I am still waiting for the Thai idol BL of my dreams starring Daou and Offroad. I will write the goddamn script if I have to!

[violettwritess]

Letters I can’t send c.s

Summary: After Y/n and Chris stopped talking, she spirals into a deep emotional void, unable to find a way out.

Warnings: Mentions of depression, heartbreak, Ed, mental health struggles, deep emotional pain, mentions of not wanting to live.

Wc: 1.8k

English is not my first language

The stars have always been beautiful, haven’t they? They just shine, effortlessly perfect, without a care in the world. Sometimes I wish I could be like them, just existing, without worries or flaws. But life isn’t that simple, is it?

I’m not even sure why I’m writing this, maybe it’s because I miss you so much it hurts. Every time I look at the sky and see the moon, I think of you. I don’t think I’m ready for you to be gone. Sometimes I hope you’re feeling the same way because I’d like to believe you still care about me as much as I care about you.

Mom suggested I should call you, but what would I say? Would you even reply, or would you just ignore me? The uncertainty scares me. I’ve been rehearsing our conversation in my head, maybe I’d ask how you are, or invite you to that coffee shop downtown where we used to go. Maybe you’d say yes, and we’d talk like old times, or maybe you’d tell me you’ve moved on and forgotten about me.

I’m scared because I see how happy you are now. Your career is taking off, you have new friends, and so many people who love you, but I wonder, do you ever think of me and miss us? Do you miss our late-night walks, the way we could talk forever without getting bored? Because I do, and it’s killing me a little more every day.

Sometimes, just before I fall asleep, I remember when we were neighbors and saw each other every day, I wonder if you’re mad at me, if I did something wrong. Is that why we don’t talk anymore?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m genuinely happy for you, Matt, and Nick, but sometimes I wish you hadn’t left me behind. You’ve got everything you ever wanted, and here I am, stuck in the past, clinging to something that will never come back. You might see it as a small thing, but to me, it feels like my world is ending, I feel like I’m falling apart, and I don’t know how to move on from this.

I don’t even know if I’ll send this letter, maybe it’s enough just to write it all down, but if you do read this, I hope you understand how much you meant to me, and how much you still do, but maybe that doesn’t matter to you anymore.

Maybe you’ve already closed the door on this part of your life, sealed it away in some box labeled “things that used to matter” Maybe I was never as important to you as you were to me.

That thought alone makes my chest tighten, I hate feeling like this, like I’m the only one who’s stuck, like I’m the only one who still looks for pieces of you in my everyday life, in the smallest moments.

Do you ever feel that? Or am I just a passing thought you don’t even realize you’re having?

I don’t know why it hurts so much. It’s not like you promised forever. It’s not like you even owed me that.

I keep wondering if I should let go, if holding onto you is only making things worse, but how do you let go of something that shaped you? How do you forget someone who felt like home?

They say time heals everything, that one day I’ll wake up and you won’t be the first thing on my mind, that I won’t feel this dull ache in my chest every time I hear your name or see someone who walks like you, dresses like you, carries themselves the way you do. But what if they’re wrong? What if I never stop missing you?

I wonder if you ever talk about me. If my name ever slips into a conversation by accident, and for a second, you remember the way things used to be, if maybe, just maybe, you feel even a fraction of what I do.

~

I took a break from writing, I kind of forgot about this letter, but today I found it in my drawer and read it. I cried. I couldn’t help it. Honestly, I still think about you constantly, I barely even sleep, I wake up a thousand times in the middle of the night, swimming in an ocean of memories, and I feel like I’m drowning.

I tried calling you the other day, but the call didn’t go through, maybe you blocked me, maybe you’re closing every door that led to us. But here I am, still looking for an opening, a way back into your life. Could I ever do that?

If I’m being completely honest, I feel like I’m getting worse. I know I should’ve moved on already. I could meet new people and be happy, but I don’t want to be happy if it’s not with you. It just isn’t worth it.

Mom’s starting to worry about me. I think I understand why. I’ve been barely eating, barely sleeping, and failing all my classes. I stopped hanging out with my friends. I told her she doesn’t have to worry about it, but even I am starting to worry. I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t have the energy to do anything, I feel like I’m draining, I’m not even alive anymore, I’m just there.

How do you call it when that happens? My mom thinks I’m depressed. Maybe I am. She wants me to get help, but should I? I know how therapists work, they just listen to you for money, and most of the time they don’t even give you solutions. So why bother? Maybe that’s how I’m destined to be now, alone and stuck in the past. I honestly can’t even picture anything past 25, I don’t have the motivation to keep it up, but I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this, maybe because it feels like I’m not allowed to tell anyone else. I don’t want to burden them with how lost I am, how hard it is to pretend like everything’s fine when it’s not. I don’t think anyone would understand the weight of this and how hard it is to just keep going, pretending I’m okay.

I keep telling myself that I’ll be okay. That eventually, I’ll stop feeling like I’m drowning in this. But the truth is, I don’t know if I ever will be okay, I don’t know if I’ll ever stop missing you, if I’ll ever stop looking at the stars and remembering how we used to talk about them like they were ours, maybe I’m just not ready to let go of the person you were to me, the one I thought I’d always have.

~

I’ve been getting thinner. I’m starting to worry. Everybody’s worried. Mom took me to the doctor, and I still don’t have the results yet, but from the looks of it, I think it’s not good. What do I do?

I feel like I’m falling apart even more now, like my body’s betraying me. I don’t even recognize myself anymore, physically, emotionally, mentally, everything feels like it’s slipping through my fingers. I try to act like I’m fine, like I’ve got everything under control, but I don’t, not even close. The weight of all of this is starting to break me in ways I can’t even put into words.

It’s hard to admit this, but I think I’ve been punishing myself. I’m scared to talk to anyone because I’m terrified they’ll see how broken I really am, I can’t help but wonder if they’ll think I’m being dramatic or weak, maybe I am weak, maybe I should be able to pull myself together by now, but I can’t. And that’s the hardest part, feeling so out of control, like everything is spiraling, and I don’t know how to stop it.

I keep thinking about how you used to make everything feel better, how you’d be there when I needed someone, maybe that’s why this is so hard, because I can’t find anything to fill the void you left. Not even the stars, no matter how beautiful they are, can make me feel the same way you did.

I just wish I could talk to you. I wish I could reach out, hear your voice, and somehow make all of this better. But I know that’s not possible, maybe it never was. But still, there’s this tiny part of me, a part that refuses to let go, that keeps hoping for something that will never come back.

I miss you, Christopher. I miss you so much, and it pains me how much you seem to not care. We used to be everything, and now we’re nothing at all. I still don’t know why I’m writing this, and I still don’t know if I’m sending it, maybe I should, but I’m scared, I’m scared you’ll think I’m a freak, but maybe I’ll send it someday.

I just need you to know, you were everything to me, Chris. You were my safe place, my constant, and now I don’t even know where I belong. I feel like I’m floating through life, disconnected from everything and everyone, like I’m just waiting for something to change, something to make me feel whole again. But nothing does. Nothing ever does.

I wish I could go back in time, back to when everything was simple, but I know I can’t. I can’t turn back the clock, and I can’t change the past, I can only try to figure out how to live without you, even if it feels impossible right now.

I don’t expect you to understand, or even care, but I had to say it. I had to write it down because it’s the only way I can make sense of all of this. It’s the only way I can make sense of you.

Maybe one day, someone will tell me that time heals all wounds, but for now, I’m starting to think this wound is one that will never close. And maybe that’s just my fate, to carry this pain forever.

~

I’ve decided that I’m going to send you this letter, I’ve read it many times and I know it’s kind of ridiculous, but I feel like you need to read it, part of me wants you to so, here it is, here I am, all of me, all of it, I hope you answer, if you don’t, I’ll understand, but I really wait for your response.

I miss you, I’ve missed you for months now, and I’ll always miss you, please reply to me.

Your dearest, y/n.

Authors note: I don’t really know why I wrote something like this but I finished reading a book like it so I got inspired

Part 2

[delight-angelsbliss]

ik you did a knuckles hcs alr but if you don't mind revisiting this topic I'd love to see your hc takes on Boom Knuckles x a thick girly... I feel like he'd be rly sweet. Even if he is a bit confused, he'd try his best ;-; i love that beefy bimbo sm

Precis: Boom! Knuckles with a thick female! Reader

Warnings: one mention of starving yourself but it isn't about actually doing it

Notes: Everytime I force myself to write smth through a writer's block and then see no notes, but the one who stole my prompts get more notes than me, an angel loses its wings... Also sorry for the late post and I got a bit off track when writing

Boom! Knuckles is already beefy himself, so he doesn't mind people with a little more meat on their bones. He doesn't see the issue with it at all. Knuckles thinks it's a good thing to be a bit more thick than others, it isn't a problem and shouldn't be seen as one! This meathead (in his words) can also be a feminist who believes in body positivity (unlike Clara dao) so he tries to show you just how beautiful you are in his eyes. Since boom! Knuckles is quite literally the dumbest guy you'll ever meet, he doesn't quite understand the severity and the fact that most insecurities stay as a mental state. When you first explain it (I don't think he'd understand because of how he's portrayed but wtv) he tries to show this better understanding of your predicament he has now, pointing out when you look radiant and/or put together, he loves uplifting you, it's just the kind of person he is

Knuckles knows how judgemental people can get, and he understands how you feel since he also gets many insults his way about how stupid he is. Obviously he'd defend you, you're someone he loves and truly cares for, so it only makes sense for him to defend your peace and dignity. Knuckles would always rant to his friends about how many insults are said to you just existing, he hates seeing you sad, he wants to see you confident, but these people are just wrecking that. Knuckles loves seeing you confident about your body, he also loves the way you look and he thinks you should do the same! Knuckles is a lover boy at heart and that won't ever change

He loves seeing you confident, wearing stuff you like, not letting comments get to you etc. It brings him happiness knowing you're well off with your looks. He thinks it's important to have self confidence and not be afraid of the opinions that other people may have towards you, there will always be people to resent you for no apparent reason and it's ok to care about it to an extent, but that doesn't mean you should let it rule your life like a tyrant. Since boom! Knuckle is more of a meathead, he isn't the best at comforting, but he still tries to! Trying to get advice from friends, searching on the internet, etc. He always wants you to be happy and healthy life.

Knuckles is someone who prioritizes comfort in a relationship, he wants to make sure you're fully comfortable with him. If you seem uncomfortable wearing smth tight around him that show off curves, he won't pressure you to do so, he wants you to trust him fully. I can't stress this enough. Knuckles adores it when he's able to give you compliments or talk about how cute your body rolls are, it's not only a boost to his paranoia about being bad for your confidence, it's a boost for moral and confidence. He doesn't see a reason to buy stuff like fat blocker, cut calories, ⭐ve yourself, etc. You're perfect as you are to him and you shouldn't harm your body over anything. Knuckles will always support and love you through out any decision you have

[rockofeye]

Dry Bones Breath

I have been attempting to write this particular post for months. I have innumerable drafts full of emotion and wrought feelings and explaining, and none of them have ever felt right to post. Maybe two months ago, I gave myself permission not to write this. I felt like I was pushing too hard to birth something that had yet to be fully formed, and so I put it to the side and went on with life. I jotted notes when something bubbled up, and I otherwise didn't think about it or look at it. I stopped expecting myself to be able to produce something when the moment for that something had clearly not yet arrived.

In retrospect, I think I was waiting to feel right about it. I don't like to write angry, so I have waited not to be angry all the time. I have waited to not be tearful when writing about particular aspects. I have waited for my process of writing to be calm and not a frenzied pounding at my keyboard. I have waited to not feel like I was writing to appease others or in fear of others or what might be said about what I write. I have waited for the burden of not writing to feel heavy but not reactionary, in that I know I need to set this down for my own betterment but that the burden is not a bag of angry cats that I need to throw into the river to feel a little peace. This past week, I have finally felt like I have arrived in that place, so here we are.

On November 26, 2024, I submitted a letter resigning my membership in Sosyete Nago. As I have written extensively on my journey with and in Sosyete Nago, it feels important that I write about my exit, how and why I made that decision, and, to some extent, where I go from there. I have always been as transparent as I know how to be with my journey and process, and I feel that it would be dishonest not to be transparent here, too. I owe myself transparency and speaking the truth as I understand it and have experienced it, and I owe transparency to people who have held faith with me through this blog--co-religionists, siblings, friends, clients, seekers, curious folks, and more.

To be perfectly blunt, I really would love to be able to feel like I could just wash my hands of this and keep moving forward without getting into this incredibly painful process, but I can't. That feels like lying and also like tacit agreement with a whole of things that I really don't agree with. So, I write.

I was active in Sosyete Nago for eleven and a half years. I attended my first fet at Manbo Maude's house in Boston in November 2013 and completed my kanzo/initiation in July 2016 in Jacmel. The first time I missed a fet kay in the US was the fet Danbala that was only a few weeks after I gave birth and the last fet I attended was fet Kouzen this past spring. I was committed to being present and a part of the community because that was both something I was directly taught by my godfather, in that I had been given a lot of grace in the djevo and the appropriate response to that was to show up and put my hands in the work, and because I felt strongly that I didn't make all the sacrifices I did to get where I was to not be of use and to not learn anything. I spent literal years standing or sitting in a particular place in the temple in the US and the temple in Haiti, either actively helping the fets unfold or absorbing what was happening and allowing the lwa to speak to me through the drums and the salutations and my observations.

I didn't join Sosyete Nago with the intent to leave, at all. This was a topic at the ceremonies in Haiti leading to my kanzo; more than one spirit asked me if I was going to take what I would learn and what I would be given and leave. When I said no, I meant it. I went to Haiti to do the work that I desperately needed and that I had promised to do, with no other agenda. I told myself that if I hated it, I didn't have to go back but I never had any plans of walking away. That was a big deal for me, because I am not a joiner. I do not find it easy to trust people and I certainly did not want to forge any lasting ties with any person or community. The lwa had other plans, though, and so I jumped in with both feet and trusted that they would keep me whole.

Over the years, I learned a lot about developing as a spiritual person from Manbo Maude. I learned about prayer and how that can really change things, I learned a set of ethics and principles that have governed how I interact with world as a spiritual person and a priest, and I learned how to work my lwa to have them teach me themselves. I built my life on that foundation of principles and prayer and relationship with my spirits, and that is what I have always (and still) rely on.

I utilized all of this in community as well, and community is hard. There was a lot of learning and reflection on my part, and I did my best to keep up. I have always fallen back on the primary tool of discernment that Manbo Maude taught me; that of watching and waiting in patience. In practice, that means when I have a dream I don't understand, I don't necessarily push for meaning but I put it on the shelf and then watch what happens in my life. In relationship with community, it's the same; if I hear something I disagree with or see something that doesn't sit well with me, I sit with it and I watch and I wait and I'll probably pray about it, too. Sometimes it's something that flows along and I don't feel that I need to bring it up, and other times, it feels like something that needs to get brought up, so maybe at some point I will choose to say something. Often, I just continue to watch because not everything needs to be said by me, I don't have to be right, and sometimes the price of speaking instead of remaining silent is high.

One of the first outings my husband and I took our kiddo to was going to Sosyete Nago's Fet Kouzen this past spring. We both wanted people we cared about to meet the baby, and we wanted the baby to see the lwa. My mother, Manbo Maude, had not yet met the baby despite multiple invitations/asks from me; it was important to me that the person who had held the spot of mother in my life for years meet the baby that had been hoped for, but it didn't pan out. I stopped asking because I don't press people for things when they demonstrate they don't want it. At the time, I told myself that she was just busy, but in retrospect there was more going on.

In fact, after the fet things kind of blew up. My husband was unhappy about something and after I pressed him on it, it came out that statements had been made before the fet by an elder sibling of mine that the baby could not be his because it did not resemble him both in looks and in skin tone, because the baby had arrived early and the timeline didn't make sense, and because we had struggled quite a bit in our relationship once my husband arrived in the US so there had been presumed openings for me to cheat on my husband and try to baby trap him.

This was shocking and incomprehensible to me because why would anyone choose to be that poisonous and, frankly, that much of an asshole about a baby? And why would someone feel so free to speak about one of their siblings in our mother's house in front of our mother? I asked my husband to go through with me what happened multiple times and to tell me who else was present. I spoke with other people who witnessed this and had them go through the blow-by-blow with me as well. It seems that an innocent and funny joke was made about the kiddo, which is fine and not upsetting to me, and it seems that this person saw that as an opening and decided to really go in on our child with some really hateful stuff.

I didn't and don't understand why someone would be so hateful, and I didn't understand why that conversation would be allowed to stand. I sat with it and decided that I would speak to my mother about it after she returned from Haiti because, for me, respect is an action word and because of my respect for her I was not going to add to what she needed to do before going to Haiti in July. I convinced myself that there had to be some logical explanation for all these things. 

In retrospect, that was pretty naive of me. What happened next was pretty awful: this terrible bit of poisonous gossip went everywhere, because people talk and something so egregious and outright mean is not going to stay quiet and particularly when gossip is held as a sort of social token or payment.

When I say everywhere, I mean EVERYWHERE. I watched my husband field three or four or more phone calls every day for WEEKS about this. His friends in Haiti, the US, and beyond called to ask what in god's name was going on in Boston that Sosyete Nago would be saying these things. His family heard about it and I listened to him explain to his son what was going on. His spiritual mother and his spiritual children heard about it. I had spiritual clients coming to me and asking if I was okay because of what they were hearing. My siblings in Haiti and the US heard about it.

It was awful and humiliating and at no point did my mother reach out to me and express any concern about what had been said or what was being said. I didn't believe anything that had originally been said was out of actual concern, as a person who cared about my husband and had real concern that I was so unprincipled as to cheat on him and pass off someone else's baby as his would have pulled him aside and had a private conversation. Instead, the goal of these kind of statements and the intentional use of gossip as a way to hurt someone was to hurt my husband and hurt me. There is no other reason someone would stoop so low as to speak on a child that way.

But, I told myself I would address this later. I was busy with the baby and told myself, over and over that there had to be something else going on because why would my mother tolerate something so virulent and not speak with me about it?

Then, July happened. Almost immediately after the passing of Dana, both my husband and I independently heard rumors that someone had passed away. The rumors were all over the place: someone had passed in the djevo, someone had passed during a ceremony, someone in the lakou had passed. Both of us said the same thing to people who brought those rumors forward: there is no way that someone would have passed in any of the manners described because Manbo Maude would not continue on with dances and celebratory ceremonies. Both of us stood on the fact that we knew Manbo Maude to be a generally caring and sensitive person who just wouldn't do that. I confirmed this to myself by seeing clips of happy people during fetes and house members who were present sharing photos of themselves, promoting businesses, etc. 

When I found out almost a week later that we were both terribly wrong, I was shocked. I was beyond shocked, honestly. I don't know if there is a clear way to describe how truly flattened I felt to hear that someone had passed, that the someone who had passed had just emerged from the djevo, and not one thing had paused. I genuinely could not believe it, because how could something so significant and serious as a brand new manbo passing happen, celebrations continue, and the children of the house not be informed? I honestly felt like I had been steamrolled and it made me viscerally ill. One of the first things I did after getting the news from a sibling and being shown memorial posts on Facebook was vomit.

In the immediate aftermath of this bomb dropping, a lot unfolded. Several of my siblings named this event as the straw that broke their backs and reported to the community allegations and experiences of theirs that were at best extremely concerning and at worst extraordinarily problematic before leaving the sosyete. I began asking questions of others; had they heard about these allegations (because I hadn't)? What had been done to address and rectify them? I was told that these allegations were known and that no one was really sure what had concretely been done.

A little more than a week after Dana's passing, a group of elder children of Sosyete Nago was convened to presumably try to help manage these unfolding crises. A group call was scheduled within a day or two, and some of us assembled to try and address these situations. When the call began, I was direct and to the point: a public statement acknowledging Dana's passing needed to be made immediately and all public activities of the sosyete should be suspended for a full year, including the suspension of kanzo, out of respect for the passing of our sibling and to do the work to address the allegations and failings of our community. For me, this was the minimum that we could do to try and repair what was quite broken in the moment.

This was noted, but not received well. The initial reaction was that suspending kanzo would be a devastating financial blow to the house, and I found that as the immediate response troubling. Equally as troubling to me was a general chastisement of the group that we had not inquired as to how Manbo Maude was feeling and doing. That did not sit well with me and I said so: someone had died and as houngans and manbos our first responsibility is to the dead and the community that was both reeling with the loss and deeply fractured due to information and experiences coming to light.

After the call, it became clear those of us in this group of elder children had been placed in a position of trust but were not trusted. Questions were asked over and over and remained unanswered, like if the desounen had been completed, what Dana's baptism name was so she could be appropriately prayed for as she deserved, and specific questions addressing some of the rumors circulating. When I pressed for Dana's name so I could pray for my sibling and call her as the lwa called her, the group was told that the name was being kept private to keep Dana safe. The implication that her siblings were not safe people was a blow.

A continuing blow was the lack of public statement that many of us asked for over and over, both for the dignity of Dana and for the well-being of the sosyete and its members. We were continually told that multiple lawyers had been consulted and all said not to make any public statement, but how would simply acknowledging the passing of a child of the house be held as negative?

The situation continued to spiral and many of us continued to ask for action, and shared how we were personally being affected by this. For myself, I had clients pull back from me for fear of association without further information. I was threatened privately and dragged publicly, and I had just signed a contract for a book in June that was immediately suspended and probably will never see the light of day. When I shared some of this, it was responded to with a chastisement of how could we be thinking of things like this in the middle of this tragedy? Well, how was it possible then that the sosyete went forward with celebrations hours after Dana passed? There was never a response to my own sharing of what was happening for me, nor was there any response to what other siblings shared.

Folks were saying Dana had been killed or sacrificed and her death covered up, and why wouldn't they say this when the actions of the house certainly seemed suspicious? I do not believe for one minute Manbo Maude harmed Dana, and yet the handling of her death certainly left ample room for those rumors to seem very believable, which rests solely on the inaction of the sosyete.

Sosyete Nago seemed cold, callous, and cruel. There was no noting of the death of a house member who had just finished her initiation, but there were plenty of photos and video clips of smiling children of the house enjoying fets and relaxation time in Haiti, posing for photos in their special outfits, and promoting business opportunities. How would anyone think anything different when Dana passed in the morning and a kouche yanm ceremony began in the afternoon? How could this be seen as anything but an endorsement that Dana's death was unimportant?

Community meetings were held and I chose not to attend. My questions had not been answered in a more private forum so what would be the benefit to me of attending a larger forum where me asking them again would surely be viewed as troublemaking? 

I continued to be disturbed by what I was seeing and hearing from these meetings and in general among the sosyete. There were statements made about how funeral rites are done that were in direct opposition to what I was taught by Manbo Maude, that the kanzo was totally normal, and excuses continued to be made as to why celebrations began immediately after Dana's passing--people had paid for spiritual work to be done so things had to be done, Dana's parent had given their okay for things to continue, the recent initiates gave their consent for things to continue, and, perhaps most disturbing, once you make a promise to spirits, you can never change that. For all the effort that was made to convince people that the right thing had been done, it hit wrong.

I was floored when it was said that promises to spirit can never be changed. This is something that applies directly to responsibilities when folks serve lwa achte, or bought spirits (sometimes called djab or pwen achte, among other things). Sosyete Nago has always represented itself as fran Ginen, meaning only lwa Ginen are served and not lwa achte. As I was taught and Manbo Maude had taught publicly over and over, lwa Ginen can always be negotiated with. You can always go back and say 'hey, it's not going to work out as I had planned, here's what I can do now until I can do what I promised'. That can be done for whatever significant reason; maybe you didn't get a chance to assemble all the money you needed or you had a big emergency you needed to take care of...or someone died.

Further, if we are to believe that spirits like Danbala, the spirit most associated with purity who cannot be served in the presence of death, and Ogou, the father of all the children of Sosyete Nago, and Ezili Danto, the fierce mother who loves her children, cannot be negotiated with after the tragic death of a newly born child, then these spirits are cruel and are not worthy of our service and attention. What parent would be angry that a celebration was suspended to mourn the death of their child? 

My concerns continued to multiply: 

Brand new initiates not yet finished with their eprev/period of restriction were helping with the work of death, which is strictly forbidden and can have long-lasting consequences, up to and including untimely death. I pushed back on this and asked why the principles all of us were governed with were somehow suspended in the aftermath of this tragedy and why these new initiates were not being sufficiently protected. Restrictions are put in place for a reason; while death is a natural part of life, it is a massive spiritual contamination for us, especially directly after kanzo. The response from a house member was that these new initiates had already struggled, so what did it matter? What?

Statements were made in house meetings that were extremely troubling, such as the assembled group of people on a call being the ones who were really invested in the sosyete, and, after a period of telling people what was happening next, a statement to the affect of 'if this doesn't resonate with you, let us know and we can part amicably'. Regardless of intent, this felt pretty targeted towards those of us who had spoken up and called for responsibility and adherence to the principles we had been taught. Additionally, with the traditional lakou structure of an initiatory parent and a family of children/initiates, how does this speak to the responsibility of a parent to a child? Much has been said about the contract and waiver that house members sign, but what has been unsaid is that responsibilities and expectations in relationships and contracts are not only on one side.

Instead of moving to immediately deal with allegations reported to the community, other activities were undertaken, like seating the board of a nonprofit. I found it upsetting that this was the response, instead of caring for community members. My understanding as of this writing is that none of the allegations have been addressed and no reparative action undertaken.

I sat with all of this, and it felt pretty awful. I didn't like what it said about the community I was a part of, and I didn't like how I felt as a part of it. I felt specifically that the statements being made about commitment and exiting if you don't like what is happening were incredibly divisive and, to me, dangerous. I was reminded of my history as a young person who was a part of a dangerous, cult-like religious group where statements like that and expectations around caring for the leader led to some places that were pretty dark. I didn't and don't know if that is what was happening there, but it felt like it and I spent a lot time on my own and with folks who care about me specifically trying to unpack that and look at what that meant for me and meant for the community.

I spent a lot of time metaphorically holding my head, because I felt like I had previously been blind to things that should have concerned me and because I felt like I was losing my mind. None of what was happening made sense and I couldn't find the community that I had previously committed to in the community that I was now a part of. I felt like a lot of this was a passive invitation to leave; why else would statements like this be made if it wasn't a line in the sand?

In the middle of all of that, grief. I did not know Dana well, but the grief for this situation was overwhelming. I was in tears more than I wanted to be over a life shortened and the feeling that this death did not have meaning because it had just been passed over by the community that Dana had given herself to. I questioned how this was just, and I wondered, to myself and to others, what would happen when I died. Would anyone stop to do for me what was necessary, or was it going to be business as usual?

Part of our humanity rests in how we care for our dead, because they are OURS. We are responsible for them in the moment of their death and in perpetuity. What we do and how we treat them and their death is a reflection of what we think of them and what we think of ourselves, and our treatment of them reflects deep truths about us as individuals and as community. As much as Dana belonged to her natural family, she belonged to us, too, and we failed her. Those who made the decision to continue on and embody a reality where her death made nothing pause--not even for a moment--needed to reckon with what that meant for Dana, for the community, and for themselves, and Sosyete Nago needed to reckon with what it meant to be part of a community that overlooked the death of one of its members. 

Before my resignation, I saw none of that.

In the midst of this, I also was having a private, unrelated spiritual crisis. Just before Dana's passing, I had the opportunity to speak with a variety of the lwa. They were excited to see the baby, and they all told me something I wasn't expecting: they told me I had not been given the light necessary to do all my work as an asogweman. I wasn't entirely sure what that was, and said so. I was told to ask my mother, and to ask my mother why I had not been given that.

I am a curious person and investigated on my own. Manbo Maude was about to go to Haiti and there was already other discomfort for me, so I asked a few other asogwe I knew what that meant. 

My siblings didn't know, but some other folks did and described a process and set of information communicated to each manbo or houngan asogwe as part of their formation that is foundational to the work of an asogwe. It was something that I had struggled with for years and years, and that I had been told nothing could be done about. I am being intentionally vague, but IYKYK. So, I resolved to do as I was told and ask my mother when there was an available time.

As the dust was forced into settling this fall, the children of Sosyete Nago were individually polled and each of us asked if we wanted to remain part of Sosyete Nago and work towards communal healing. I didn't really vibe with being asked if I wanted to stay, because, as I wrote earlier, my commitments were made long ago. When asked, I said that I made my commitments before but there were things that needed to be discussed. A time to talk was suggested, and I agreed.

Before this conversation with my mother, I spent a lot of time praying and sitting with my lwa. I felt unmoored, undermined, and pretty lost, and I didn't like where I thought the road was leading. I spent a lot of time praying for a positive outcome and for a glimpse of anything that would tell me that I was in the wrong or had outmaneuvered myself.

I also spent a fair amount of time expressing my displeasure to my lwa, with varying amounts of grace ranging from absolutely none at all to essentially weepily clinging to their legs. They were much more graceful in their responses than I was able to muster.

What turned out to be my last conversation with my mother did not go well, from my side. I spent a fair amount of time being shocked into silence and being both deeply worried and deeply sad in the same space.

The takeaways from our conversation were this:

It seems that initiates who would not otherwise know about specific information are supposed to ask to learn it. When I inquired about why I was not given the light and deliverance my title/rank indicated, the response I received was 'well, did you ask?'. Beyond the leap of logic it would take to reason out how someone is supposed to know what to ask without having been instructed in what the basic tools of their rank is, I had asked. I had asked multiple times in multiples settings over multiple years, on my own and in the presence of others, and the response I had consistently gotten was that I just needed to relax and let go, and that there was nothing that could be taught to me and no help I could receive.

Instead of being able to consider another viewpoint, experience, or conflicting information, betrayal and insidious behavior is considered foundational to any relationship or encounter that does not go as desired. For example, in discussing questions and concerns I had around particular rumors around Dana's passing, it was suggested I was speaking to people who were considered spies or betrayers. Instead of being able to consider what had to happen for someone who had invested multiple years and paid thousands of dollars for an initiation to immediately cut ties with the sosyete upon return to the US, it was stated that this person was a spy for others. I can't and don't see how someone would invest at least $8,500USD in fees alone to be a spy, and the inability or unwillingness to consider other information or extend empathy or curiousness to another viewpoint or experience.

Potential safety concerns were also included under the umbrella of betrayal or insidious behavior as well. When bringing up a concern about very specific rumors about purposeful contamination of food and water supplies in the lakou, that was labeled as a way to take Americans away from the lakou instead of entertaining if it was possible, what could be done to increase security/safety, and the reality that even rumor can make other people bold enough to act.

Gossip is considered truth and is used a social mechanism to create relationships, leverage relationships, or end them. When I brought up my concerns about what was said about child, it was very clear that what actual truth was never mattered, as my mother decided to act (or not act)based on what other people had said and never consulted me about what was being said or how I, her child, felt about it. 

The place of betrayal within the community of Sosyete Nago seems to have become a central guiding principle and any relationship or situation that does not resolve in a way considered positive or that doesn't fit a predetermined idea of what it should be becomes betrayal. In our phone call, my husband become a focal figure in a narrative of betrayal that I didn't understand. When asking about why my child and my reputation as a person with principles was spoken about negatively, it was insisted (despite other persons being present relating differently) that it was my husband who stated he did not believe he was the father of our child, and I was told several times I didn't know the man I had married and similar would-be inflammatory things.

I will admit to having laughed at that, because it relied on events that were--again--based in gossip and didn't actually happen. But, further, my mother insisted that she had been forced to have my husband--a well known houngan who had worked for her and collaborated with her for at least fifteen years--in her home and her temple without her consent. 

When I asked for clarification of what she meant by that and what had happened to create such a feeling of hostility, nothing was really communicated. Old issues that had been presumably settled years ago were brought back up as if brand new, and the only new event was an insistence that he did not greet her in public when he saw her at the airport. When I offered to bring him into the call to be able to clear the air and have direct communication, that was refused.

This was very confusing to me, as my mother, Manbo Maude, regularly called my husband starting from his arrival in the US in 2023 to help her with ceremonies she was holding, she commissioned him for a significant amount of tableau for a fet she was planning in Haiti, and she invited him to accompany her to Haiti this past summer. That trip did not end up happening, but it's hard for me to see where his presence was forced in her home and her community. These are also dangerous things to say in this political environment; my husband is a recent immigrant and rumors can lead to serious action at this time.

All of these things were incredibly unsettling for me, as this did not reflect how I have understood community and community relationships nor did it reflect how I had come to know Manbo Maude over the past 10+ years.

Particularly upsetting was when Manbo Maude told me directly that she had not come to see my child after they were born because of the rumors that my husband was not the baby's father and my apparent infidelity. As these rumors did not boil over until May months after my child was born, this tells me that this was a much longer situation that was purposefully held back from me.

When the person I chose as my mother told me that, I think my heart broke in a really specific way and I felt really, really stupid. She was first person I told after my husband that I was pregnant, she was the person who had the inside scoop about how the pregnancy went, and she was the first person who saw a picture of the baby after I gave birth...yet somehow she had harbored this awful belief that I was somehow capable of what rumors were saying. 

Responsibility was spoken about in our call, and she stated she was responsible for me as my spiritual mother. Where was the responsibility when people were busy assassinating my character and speaking poison onto my child, for months on end? It would not have been hard to pick up the phone and call me and ask about what was being said and if I was okay, but that would require a belief that I am the one who tells the truth about my experience and that I am ultimately a respectable person.

Our conversation ended with Manbo Maude telling me she was willing to work on our relationship but that my husband was no longer welcome in her home or her temple, for perceived betrayal that was never fully explained to me. I was asked to make a decision on whether I was going to stay in Sosyete Nago and I requested time to think.

In truth, I already knew what my answer would be but I felt dizzy and disoriented after a conversation that had veered so wildly from what I had hoped it would be and I wanted to clear my head and think.

Manbo Maude stated a boundary that unfortunately meant there could no longer be an active relationship. I fully believe that an offer that excludes family is not an offer of connection, but an invitation to leave and I genuinely wish that could have just been said directly. Further, it had already been said to other people before it got to me; one of my husband's family members was called and told that they were welcome at an upcoming fet, but not to bring my husband. And, it had made it's way around local community; house members felt free enough to tell people nou pa bon avek yo, nou pap sevi avek yo ankò/we're not on good terms with them, we don't serve/work with them anymore. This is an example of how gossip is weaponized; that was said to people that are known to be friends and family of ours, so it was very clear we would hear.

As much as I was not going to disrespect Manbo Maude, her home, or her temple and bring people she didn't want there, I was also not going to disrespect my husband or my child and go places they were specifically not welcome or celebrated. So, I wrote my letter.

My resignation was the beginning of the work to understand and dig into why I needed to ask for particular information and what that meant for me, and so I got to work. As I have been very visible for the last decade and had the grace to marry someone people trust, I was able to connect with a lot of granmoun/elders and other community members. Some were people who have known my mother, some were people who knew her spiritual mother, and others were community members who gracefully were willing to entertain my questions and give me their time. 

This was work I went into while holding a considerable amount of anger, which was covering up how hurt and betrayed I felt. Sosyete Nago diverges from traditional initiation formats and does not initiate anyone from outside of Haiti to sou pwen, so how was I to be expected to know what information I was to ask for, even though it is considered a foundational element? Certainly each lakou has their own regleman that they adhere to, but what does it mean to diverge so far from the general agreements asson lineages hold as a community?

This is something that has negatively affected me for years. I wrote it off as my problem because I was told it was my problem and I was comfortable with that, because my relationships with my lwa have been solid from the start, but it has affected me during fets, with clients, in dreams, and just on my own. I also am now a parent of a Haitian-American child who very clearly and decisively is a child of the lwa. Her father is an accomplished houngan but, God forbid/Bondye pa vle, what happens if he were to pass before me and my child needs assistance that I was not given the information to provide? Is my child just abandoned to whatever happens with a shrug? These are real consequences.

I spoke with a lot of people and was given a lot of grace. When you are an outsider and you start asking very particular and pointed questions about topics that can't be discussed without an assurance you have the right to even ask the question, people look at you. They test you, and they see if you are what you say you are and if the sondaj rings true. I have always been who I say I am and I know what I know, so it did.

Questions give way to answers, and answers are pieced together to a broader quilt of an answer. My siblings in the US didn't know what I was asking about, but the ones in Haiti did, and they described something not done for folks who come for kanzo from outside of Haiti. Community members described various scenarios as to how these particular things could come to pass; they described how it happens in their lakou and how they have witnessed it happen in others. I was invited to Haiti multiple times to witness how community members do these things under their own regleman.

A particular piece of knowledge that hit me kind of between the eyes came to me multiple times, from community elders and from a spirit who came down to speak. How it came from spirit was that, in the midst of our discussion on this topic, they snatched an asson out of the hands of someone nearby and kind of shook it in my face. They said (paraphrasing in English) that this (the asson) is a kalbas/gourd, a kloch/bell, and a kolye/strung beads and that you can go out and buy all of that at the market for cheap, but that the real asson is the konesans/knowledge you carry inside you, and then the spirit poked me in the side of my head to illustrate. I heard that multiple times over these conversations and it is the thing that has stuck with me: if you don't know it, do you really have it? 

This did nothing to really quash my anger and I let my lwa have it. I told them that I have always trusted them (even when I have dragged my feet), that this is where that particular trust had led me, and that they now were going to do the work to fix it, since I had done nothing to get myself into my current predicament.

So they did.

I also got really seeking to understand what happens when we die, and I received similar grace from many community elders and members. I heard so many personal stories of loss that unfolded how we care for our dead.

There was the manbo who died an unnatural death just after the monte bila for a bat gè ceremony, and that caused the entire kanzo preparations and ceremonies to stop immediately. The bila was covered, the desounen completed, and nine days of bohoum/funeral rites were begun for a beloved child and community member.

There was the fet where the honored lwa just wouldn't come down, despite multiple and repeated salutes by children of the lakou and guests. Finally, after a lot of effort, the lwa came in exactly one head and sat down in the middle of the temple. They said they had come not to eat and celebrate, but to give the lakou the news that had not yet come by mouth: a lakou member had died, and the ceremony was to halt so that the funeral process could begin. Not long after that, a cousin arrived bearing news of a sudden sickness and passing of a hounsi.

There was the time when someone arrived with news of a death just as the first fet in a series of fet kay was starting, and the fet stopped and lakou members changed clothes and got in a vehicle to go retrieve the body of their sibling so that ceremonies could be done for them. The many animals purchased for the lwa were slaughtered in the names of both the lwa and the deceased, and charity was done to feed all the surrounding community, without any ceremony.

I heard about different rites, such as draping the door of the djevo in black and white so the lwa know one of their children has died, or placing a wooden cross at the gate of the lakou so the community is aware that there has been a loss. I learned about the importance of the desounen, which is the rite done immediately after passing to remove the soul of the initiate so that it can be protected and returned to the djevo it was born from or a similar safe place. I learned why we may break the krish or the kwi behind the process and how we may prepare the bohoum to honor the commitment and sacrifice of our initiation. I was gifted an immense amount of video documentation, because our grief rites are both communal and our pride; see how much we loved our child/sibling that passed? See how we made the ceremony beautiful for them? See how we all come together to do it? I even had the opportunity to talk to a spirit about this work, and they gave me the step by step of how I am to do some of these particular things, when it is time for me to do them.

The sharing of these various stories and rites (and others not shared here) bring one thing into focus: death stops for no one, but we stop for death. It is inconvenient and it can cost us money and time and days and effort, but how we greet death when it takes one of our loved ones is the final dignity we give them and it renews how we relate to each other. Sometimes that is hard. Sometimes it means we take a loss or our plans are upended, but ultimately we are held in community by our common agreements to each other and death is the one that none of us can escape so we, as houngans and manbos, must greet it well.

The importance of these things in the many forms they take in individual lakou was underlined by an elder I had the opportunity to speak with who lives locally to my former lakou and whom I have known a bit. They described how a death of a manbo or houngan will bring the local community to the lakou to visit during periods of mourning. I asked why they did not visit my mother's lakou when Dana passed and they stared at me through the video call and said that had a death happened they would have visited, but as dances had begun the same day as the supposed (to them) death, there couldn't have been anyone that had died. This certainly gave me pause to understand the depth and breadth of what had been said in the aftermath of Dana's transition.

This work to understand both of these areas underlined how interconnected Vodou is and should be beyond a lakou. Not once did anyone ask me for money or tell me I needed to have something done, as had been intimated for years would happen had I, an outsider, gone to places outside of my immediate community and spoken to other manbos and houngans. My curiosity (after assuring I had the right to be curious) was welcomed with pleasure and, when I can get back to Haiti, I have a lot of beer to drink and legume and lanbi to enjoy.

The hardest part of this work was looking at this connectedness and willingness to engage and knowing that this was something my heart was missing. After all, I am human and all I have really wanted in the very bottom of my soul is what everyone wants: a place to belong where we are loved, valued, respected, and cared for, and that left me, if it ever truly existed how I wanted and needed it to be.

But, in loss there is always gain and growth. The lwa do not leave their children in suffering and they fulfill their promises and answer prayers. This summer, my husband went to Haiti (after everything had already unfolded) and a significant part of the reason he was there was to secure our lakou. We had been gifted land in a demambwe after the birth of our child, and he went to visit it, feed it, and begin the process of standing up our lakou. I had assumed I would be limited there, but family and spirits said 'are you crazy? you belong here, too', and so I have a place to be again. We had been talking about our own lakou and sosyete for years, and the lwa fulfilled it and then some, with the addition of an inherited temple in a different area and a plan to also build another in an area we like. Every day has been a blessing, even on the worst days.

I know this writing won't be well received by everyone (or maybe anyone at all...who knows), but, transparency aside, I didn't write it for anyone but me. I know I too will be labeled a betrayer after this is published, but I have told no secrets and broken no oaths. It will likely be said that I am controlled by my husband or that he is telling me what to say, but I accept no backhanded insults about my ability to discern, reflect, evaluate, inquire, and act on my own. I also don't believe that what I will say will necessarily change anything, but I wish my departure had been an ending for gossip and challenging communication. Even now, we hear regularly from friends, clients, and family members how Sosyete Nago represents that my husband and I are working against Manbo Maude and Sosyete Nago and have brought powder into the temple, and I watch how gossip sows division and creates separation instead of increasing our connectedness and interdependence.

During the long process of discerning and writing about all of this, those were things that made me fearful, and that fear came from a place of being scared of being talked about or labeled a particular way, and that itself is my own trauma response that I have had to look at critically.

I don't need to be scared, because the truth is not scary. It can be painful and embarrassing and shocking, but not scary. I am not afraid of betrayal, because I reject that as a way of framing relationships. Instead, I choose an open heart and seek connectedness and reconciliation, across the board. I hope one day for reconciliation with Sosyete Nago and Manbo Maude, but reconciliation requires responsibility, reparative action, and change. I hope for healing for myself, for Manbo Maude and Sosyete Nago, for Dana, and for community-at-large, and I pray for peace for all who have found themselves touched by these situations. 

May the lwa love us, guide us, and hold us to the high standard of our best selves, that we all may become who we are meant to be. May we choose connection over isolation, grace over fear, and choose to assume the best over assuming the worst. May the lwa bless each of you ten times as much as they have blessed me.

Alex Batagi, March 2025

[keyboardsmashess]

The Siren, or The Heart of the Matter

Chapter Twenty Six: The File, or Secrets, Sparring, and Escapes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: language, eventual smut, fluff, angst, canon-typical violence, implied abuse MINORS DNI. A/N: Hello, lovelies! CW for heavily implied abuse in this chapter, so please read with care. I'm never going to explicitly state what Cleo went through in her childhood, and that's for a reason that's very important to me. I'm not here to write trauma porn (for lack of a better phrase) - I'm here to write a story about two people figuring out how to live with the things they've been through. We don't need to know exactly what happened to Cleo to be able to understand that story, we just need to know she's been through something major. I don't want the details to become the focus, so you can fill in the blanks in whatever way makes most sense to you. As always, thanks for reading, commenting, liking, following, reblogging, etc. - I love you all <3

Summary: Cleo's secrets are finally revealed, leaving her and Bucky to deal with the fallout.

Chapter Directory

I’m packing for the overnight trip to Culver (since we leave in a few days) when there’s a knock on my door. I’d told Bucky to come keep me company while I packed - he’s been finishing the Harry Potter books and sometimes, when I’m convincing enough, he’ll read them aloud to me - so I head to my door with a grin thinking it’s him.

When I open it, he’s standing there. Next to Nat. I smile, trying not to look surprised or disappointed. “Hey, guys, what’s up?”

Nat’s mouth is a harsh line. “Can we come in?”

“Absolutely.” As they enter, I can’t help myself. “Who died?”

She chuckles, but it’s a humorless sound. “Nobody, yet. I’ve got the info you asked for on your stepdad.”

I nod, blood running cold. “Oh, okay, then.” My voice comes out quiet, small. I sit at the kitchen table and gesture for them to join me. Nat sits directly across from me, laying out a few file folders, and Bucky takes the seat directly to my right. 

“Cleo,” she starts, and from the way she says my name alone - nothing but pity and discomfort - I know that she knows.

“Is he The Philosopher?” I interrupt, forcing my face into a mask of indifference.

“No,” Bucky replies. “He’s not.”

“You’re sure?”

“We’re positive,” Nat says, and I nod firmly.

“Alright then, thanks for doing all that research even though it was a waste of time.” I stand, folding my arms, and pace by the table. “Go team. Should we get some dinner? I’ve been craving bao buns and Tony says -”

Nat moves to stand, to come toward me, but Bucky shakes his head softly, keeping her in her seat. “Cleo,” he says, and hearing that same pity and discomfort from him - in James’ voice - pushes me over the edge. 

I turn my back to the table so they can’t see the tears rolling down my cheeks. “I could go for tacos if you’re not in the mood for bao,” I say, cursing the warble in my voice.

“It’s the middle of the afternoon, Cleo,” Natasha says softly.

I laugh, a tinge of hysteria to it, and wipe my tears before turning to face them. “It’s always taco time somewhere, Nat.”

I studiously avoid Bucky’s gaze, knowing it will set me off again, looking instead at Nat. At the woman who has, quite quickly, become one of my closest friends. Her face is hard, almost as if she’s holding back her own well of emotions, and it helps me keep mine from bubbling up.

She flicks her gaze between Bucky and I, hearing the unspoken as per usual, and stands. “I gotta run, but I’m going to leave these here,” she says, patting the files, “just in case you need them. Cleo, if you need… Well, you know where to find me if you want to.” She moves past me for the door, but pauses just as she reaches it, turning and giving me a hug so quick I’d believe she has superspeed. Before I can even hug her back, Nat is gone.

I sigh and sit, avoiding Bucky’s eyes. “We really don’t have to talk about this,” I say, picking at a fingernail.

He scoots his chair back so he can face me and reaches across the table for the files Nat left behind. “That’s completely up to you, just as soon as I say what I need to say about these files.” His voice is soft and kind and wonderful, and I don’t know if I love it or despise it.

I nod, still looking at my fingers.

“We may not have found anything that ties him to HYDRA, but we found enough to… Well, we know what kind of man he is, now, and these files contain enough evidence to send him to prison. Nat and I talked about it, and -”

I cut him off with a dark, humorless laugh. “Oh great, you guys talked about it. I love that you two are just casually chatting about the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Bucky’s voice doesn’t lose an ounce of softness. “Cleo, you know that’s not what I meant.”

I slam my hands on the table hard enough to sting my palms and stand, turning my back to Bucky once more. “I don’t know that, actually. What I do know is that I explicitly asked you both to only focus on Robert’s life before my mom and I, to avoid anything to do with me, and you both agreed. Now you’ve got files and evidence and you’re saying my name with all this fucking pity, so obviously you went behind my back and did it anyway.”

He stands and puts an arm on my shoulder. “Cleo, I get that you don’t want to go there, and that’s fine. Just let me tell you about the files and I’ll -”

I whip my shoulder from his grasp and turn to face him, eyes blazing and brimming with unshed tears. “You’ll what - you’ll just know this massive thing about my life, now? You’ll never be able to look me in the eye again? I didn’t want you to find any of this because I knew it would change everything. It always does.”

Bucky’s face is pleading. “Cleo, this changes nothing, except now I know you’re even tougher than I thought before.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I’m a brave little soldier. So inspiring how I just took off after everything - just ran away. I don’t need your sympathy and I don’t need unearned admiration.”

His mouth becomes a firm line. “Alright then, come with me.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to go anywhere right now - not with you or anyone else.”

He takes my hand - gentle but firm - and pulls me toward the door. “You said you didn’t want sympathy? That’s fine. I’ll give you something else.”

I frown deeply. Maybe I’m simply too tired to fight, because I allow him to lead me out of my apartment and through the hallways and stairwells to the gym. He holds the door open for me and gestures for me to enter. “What are we doing here, James?”

He walks over to the mats and grabs hand wraps from a basket, throwing a set toward me. Wordlessly, but never taking his eyes off mine, Bucky wraps his hands. I sigh, but follow suit and wrap my own. 

When I’ve finished, he takes a sparring stance. “Come on.”

I fold my arms. “What, you want me to hit you? You think this will fix everything?”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, but I do think it’ll show you that I’m tellin’ the truth when I say things aren’t any different between us.” His Brooklyn accent seems stronger, sharper in the heat of his emotion.

I shrug, mirroring him, and we circle each other for a few moments. “Have it your way, I guess.” The look on his face is so sincere that I almost feel guilty for sweeping my leg toward his feet, aiming to knock him to the ground. He may be distracted, but his instincts are next-level and he simply jumps to avoid the kick.

I give a frustrated huff, and we continue circling. “It wasn’t your place to go digging into my life.”

He’s clearly not going to make any moves here, so I get more aggressive, aiming an uppercut at his jaw. He dodges it effortlessly.

“Maybe not, but Cleo - what he did wasn’t right. Someone should’ve known a long time ago. And I’m not gonna apologize for caring about you - about what happened to you.”

I freeze, shocked at his words, and he takes advantage of my surprise to bring his arm around, gently tapping the side of my head with his fist. “Hit,” he says.

I roll my eyes. “That’s exactly what I mean - now that you know, you only see what happened to me. You only care about what happened to me.”

I feint with an arm to one side and land a kick to his solar plexus with my opposite leg, significantly less gentle than his tap. It doesn’t phase him at all, but my foot kind of smarts.

He shakes his head. “Stop puttin’ words in my mouth - that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

He repeats the leg-sweeping maneuver I tried earlier, but he’s so fast it’s successful. He reaches down a hand to help me, but I slap his hand away and get up on my own. I glare at him, shoving his chest. He backs up a few paces, eyes wide. “I’m pulling from experience, so don’t act like I should believe you won’t be different now, because I can’t know that. I can’t trust that. You have no idea what it’s like to -”

Bucky cuts me off, eyes narrowing. I can see a flush rising in his cheeks. “To what, Cleo? To walk around with this mountain of shame on my shoulders - shame that ain’t even mine to feel in the first place? To be stared at like I’m a goddamn charity case, some broken fuckin’ toy?” He throws his arms wide, hands spread. “To have someone take control of my body and my mind and force me to do things that’ll haunt me for the rest of my life?”

Bucky’s chest heaves as he breathes hard, and I pale instantly. “Shit, James, I’m sorry. I -” I reach a hand in his direction, but can’t let myself touch him. Not yet.

He shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck. “No, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have gone off like that.” He sighs. “I’m just tryin’ to say that even though we lived through different shit, I can understand at least part of what you’re going through. And you can trust that I won’t look at you any different, because to me you’re always gonna just be Cleo, the woman I -” He cuts himself off, running a hand roughly down his face. “My friend.”

I nod, swallowing thickly. “Okay.” I meet his eyes for the first time since he entered my apartment, and what I find there feels like home.

He nods back. “Okay.”

“Okay.” My voice is no louder than a whisper as I step closer to him, narrowing the space between us to just a few inches, sparring long since forgotten. “What did you and Nat talk about?”

Bucky sighs deeply. It sounds like relief. It sounds like refuge. “We figure there are three options, and it’s up to you to pick one.” I nod, and he continues. “Option one, we burn those files and never talk about any of this ever again.”

“Option one sounds good.” He cuts me a look, but there’s no heat in it. I smile softly, biting my lip. “Sorry, go on.”

“Option two, the cops in your hometown come into work one day to find they’ve been given an anonymous tip, they arrest Robert, and he goes to prison - ideally forever.” I hum in thought, and he continues. “And option three, we burn the files and… we take matters into our own hands.”

My eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What does that mean?”

He gives me a duh, Cleo look. “Nat and I both know how to make people disappear without a trace. So we do that, and maybe it hurts real bad in the process.”

I sigh deeply, rubbing at my face. “I used to dream about option three. Literally - I would have dreams about it.” Bucky looks like he understands me completely. “But I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore. To be honest, I don’t know what I want.”

He reaches out and takes my hand in his, my skin tingling at the contact. “We both figured you’d want some time to think about it - take as much as you want. And for what it’s worth, Nat’s not gonna treat you any different, either.”

I give him a sad smile. “I hope you’re right.” I exhale a shaky breath, wiping at the corner of my eye. “Is it crazy that - that I’m disappointed Robert isn’t The Philosopher?”

Bucky smiles crookedly, obviously trying to brighten my mood. “Cleo, we established a long time ago that you’re plenty crazy. But no, I don’t think that particular thought is.”

I can’t help but smile back, but it’s watery and temporary. “I just think it… it would’ve been easier, if he was part of some giant evil organization. Maybe everything he did would make more sense, then.”

Bucky studies me, really processing what I’ve said before responding. “I definitely get what you mean, but I also don’t think somethin’ like that ever makes sense.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I think I wanted him to be this supremely evil villain, and instead he’s just some guy who did some really shitty things. It’s harder to put just some guy in a box, y’know?”

Bucky smiles sadly. “I’ve run into a lot of supremely evil villains in my extended life. Hell, I was one for a while - albeit against my will. And the thing about ‘em is that underneath it all, under the masks and the secret organizations and the big plans, every one of ‘em is just some guy.”

I nod thoughtfully, and he continues, moving his hand from my arm to my shoulder and squeezing gently, comfortingly. “Doesn’t make what they did any less evil, of course. But I think if we try to put ‘em all in a box like that, we run the risk of forgetting that they’re just people, and that people do pretty evil stuff sometimes. I think forgetting that dulls the impact a bit, and that’s not fair to the people they hurt.”

I stare at him, at his clear blue eyes and strong jaw and kind, kind face. “You’re pretty smart, you know that, Barnes?”

He chuckles. “Smart, old, potato, tomato.”

I laugh and grasp the forearm of the hand he has resting on my shoulder, gripping it firmly. “No, really. You’re very smart, and very kind, and I… I’m just really glad I met you.” I smile softly.

He gazes into my eyes searchingly, and I can barely hear him when he finally speaks. “I’m just really glad I met you, too.”

Whatever passes for my heart skips a beat as I realize how close the two of us are standing, how easy it would be for me to close my eyes and the space between us in one simple movement. Bucky’s pupils dilate and his eyebrows raise just a fraction, and I wonder for a moment if he’s had the same realization.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a millisecond and take a step back out from under his hand, coughing uncomfortably. I think I see Bucky’s face fall, but he’s back to his usual casual mask so quickly I think I might have imagined it.

He clears his throat, unwinding his hand wraps. I start to do the same. “Are we good?” he asks, avoiding my eyes.

I try to force my face into a normal smile, but based on Bucky’s expression I suspect it comes out at least mildly worrisome. “Yeah, Buck, we’re good. Totally fine. Perfectly normal. Well, as normal as a very old supersoldier and cosmic energy host can be.” I take the wraps from him and toss both sets back in the basket.

He chuckles, finally meeting my eyes, and I find understanding there. “Hey, what was that show you mentioned the other day - the one you said would eventually emotionally devastate me?”

I freeze for a moment - at war with myself. On the one hand, I want nothing more than to take this white flag he’s offering me, go back to his room, and enjoy another night in front of the TV with one of my favorite people. On the other hand, after everything we’ve just talked about… Well, I don’t want his pity. I don’t need his pity. 

I smile at him, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “Don’t you think we’ve had enough emotional devastation for one day, Buck?” I say, passing him on my way to the door of the gym. I don’t turn to look - not wanting to see his reaction - as I pause at the door. “Try to get some sleep tonight, yeah?”

******

Bucky makes his way toward his room in silence, head pounding with the weight of the last few hours. Cleo’s rejection stings, but really he can’t blame her. He just dropped a bomb on her life - on whatever tentative thing they’ve been building - so of course she doesn’t want to just go back to his room and watch a stupid television show. Of course he’d be the last goddamn person she’d want to spend time with.

He finds himself at Steve’s door instead of his own, as he does on many lonely nights - well, did, before he and Cleo started their little insomniac club. Bucky shakes his head to erase the thought and knocks on his friend’s door.

Steve answers immediately. “Buck? What’s wrong?”

He enters wordlessly, waiting until he’s taken his usual spot on one of Steve’s overstuffed, floral armchairs to speak. “I fucked everything up.”

Steve sits opposite him with a kind, open expression. That’s the kind of guy Cleo’s going to end up with, Bucky thinks to himself. Someone cheerful, and open, and easy, and kind. Not someone damaged - not someone like me. 

Steve waves his hand in front of his friend’s face. “Earth to Buck - whatever awful things you’re thinking about yourself, knock it off and talk to me.”

Bucky sighs. He really doesn’t deserve Steve, if he thinks about it. But he knows he’s a selfish bastard, so he’s going to bother the guy anyway. “I fucked things up with Cleo.”

Steve’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “I didn’t know there were things to… to mess up.”

Bucky chuckles. Steve is nothing if not consistent. “There weren’t - aren’t. Not really. We’ve just been watching movies together for a while, since neither of us are very good at sleeping. We’re friends, I guess.”

“But,” Steve says, eyes full of knowing. “You want it to be something more than that.”

“I dunno,” Bucky says, waffling to obscure the truth of his feelings. But it’s Steve, and Steve always knows, somehow, so… “Yeah, I guess. Maybe.”

“So what happened?”

“I…” Bucky trails off, wanting to keep as much of Cleo’s privacy intact as possible. “I found some things out about her past. And before you ask -” he holds up a hand to stop Steve’s incoming questions. “It’s her story to tell you if she decides to - I’m not going to fuck things up any more than I already have.”

“Alright, I can respect that.”

“So I found these things out,” Bucky continues. “Things she didn’t want anyone to know. And now she says the way I look at her has changed, and I thought I’d fixed it - I thought I’d convinced her that nothing’s changed at all. But when I asked if she wanted to watch something with me tonight, y’know - like we’ve been doing lately, she just told me to get some sleep.”

Steve hums in thought. “Maybe she needed some space.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Bucky scratches the back of his neck. “But it felt like she just didn’t want to be around me.”

Steve nods. “Okay, so maybe she didn’t. Maybe you finding out… whatever it is you found out, maybe it has changed things between you. And maybe that’s hard for her.”

Bucky shakes his head vehemently. “It hasn’t, though - it hasn’t changed anything.”

Steve levels a flat look at his best friend. “Buck, sometimes things change, whether we want them to or not. You can’t take back knowing whatever it is you know, but you can at least be honest with her and try to figure out where you go from here.”

Bucky sits back in his seat, reeling. Sometimes things change, whether we want them to or not. He shoots up, standing abruptly. “Steve, you’re the smartest punk I know.”

Steve smiles up at him. “And you’re the dumbest jerk I know. You gonna go make things right?”

Bucky nods, striding for the door. “I’m going to try.”

[that1notetaker]

Okay so I was trying hard to do that exactly, so I'm so glad you pointed it out,,,,!!!

I think it might be because everything Blaise says, even if he IS pushing it, it's also supposed to be a subtle way of involving Theo and making him connect the dots.

He goes for the throat, immediately followed by something tame and a fun vibe that's not supposed to FEEL like an actual threat, more like Blaise playing around, to balance things, as well as balance Theo's rapidly growing bad mood. At least that was the point?? Like everything blaise says is meant to: a) annoy Theo by being purposely dismissive of Harry to make Theo jump. And b) saying something that, in any other situation might make Theo jealous.

But because this is HARRY we're talking about, who, at this point, Theo knows a little personally better, well. It doesn't hit the mark.

And right after Blaise realises he's gone too far, he immediately retreats to Safe Boundary Zone where he stops playing about.

THE 'NAH YOU CAN RISK DEATH THIS TIME' KILLED ME. OH MY GOD. HE WOULD HAHA??

Man, I feel like Theo would have THE Death stare. I love how Hermione's and Ron's impression of Theo is that he's one creepy, intimidating, stringy guy. I love that's the vision they have, because a) He is. And B) every time harry sees Theo, either he thinks it's mad cool, or he sees THEO rather than the paint cover.

YESSS. THEO CHANGING THE RULES! Okay so PERSONALLY, I like a good balance: i like that Harry can change the rules for himself, or at least with the intention to. But I love that Theo would have his back, either because he's in the shadows supporting Harry, or because he's upfront about it.

I feel like Theo tends to be there for Harry in a subtle way, a drawn-in way that lets Theo protect himself also, UNLESS circumstances hit the fan and he has to be more direct. Which fits Harry perfectly, because Harry doesn't like making a big deal out of the stuff that happen to him. He rolls with the punches and doesn't like to shine light on it for too long; the issue is that Harry's issues aren't really ADDRESSED. And THATS what people who care about Harry are concerned about.

But even then, the people who are concerned about Harry, his closest friends (The weasleys, Hermione, Black, lupin, tonks, etc...)...they are all INVOLVED people. They are characters that don't have a proper Outside POV, a genuine, outsider pov that lets them act or think without the Veil of 'theres important stuff going on that I also need to put my attention on. That, and I'm in the thick of it.'

Ron and Hermione are used to dealing with the same issues as harry, right beside him. Because they face things together (most of the time anyway) and have each others support, it's harder to go 'ah. Yes. That is completely fucking nuts for something to happen to minors isn't it'.

But the cool thing about Theo is that he brings perspective. Then again, anyone could bring perspective, right? Sure. Only, Theo, in our version of him, he falls back JUST enough to What The Fuck, but close enough to call out the circumstances for what they are: them being Fucked Up.

He leans towards himself with a cool, collected manner drilled into his head, BUT he also has that fire that spurs him to take arms if necessary.

"I care but not really but YES really'

Anyway. YOU POSTED S POST WITH SONGS AND I HAVENT HEARD THEM YET BECAUSE IT WAS LATE BUT IM GOING TO!! Thank you for the brain worms, this will be PERFECT to write/draw/make brain AMV's.

{{{This us

SINCE DAY ONE. @jundsthoughts @wixenforever

Another comic inspired by the awesome NottPott fic, The Burning of The Library by wixen here. In which Blaise is a suave motherfucker who wants Theo to get a hint, and ends up realising that the whole thing is deeper than both Draco and he thought. Theo remains oblivious for the most part, hidden under layers of intensity he doesnt have a name to yet.

Blaise, draco, who are used to this level of caring for one another from their parents. Also, common sense and Theo being an open hearted mf: 😳😳😳

Harry, somewhere: Ive never been more confused in my entire life.

[gingermintpepper]

As usual I read your tags always and so you said Apollo did not ask for resurrection of Asclepius and Hyacinthus so i just wanted to share this. About Asclepius death I read it on theoi.com, that earlier authors don't make him resurrect as a god but that's a later development mentioned only by Roman authors like Cicero, Hyginus and Ovid. But still Apollo has a role in Ovid's version

Ovid, Fasti 6. 735 ff (trans.Boyle) (Roman poetry C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) : Clymenus [Haides] and Clotho resent the threads of life respun and death's royal rights diminished. Jove [Zeus] feared the precedent and aimed his thunderbolt at the man who employed excessive art. Phoebus [Apollon], you whined. He is a god; smile at your father, who, for your sake, undoes his prohibitions [i.e. when he obtains immortality for Asklepios].

So here it is actually because of Apollo the decision was taken to resurrect him as god. And with Hyacinthus, I don't think I've read about Artemis playing the primary role. I know in Sparta there was a picture of Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite carrying Hyacinthus and his sister to heaven.

This is not on theoi.com but I saw on Tumblr it's from Dionysiaca by Nonnus

Second, my lord Oiagros wove a winding lay, as the father of Orpheus who has the Muse his boon companion. Only a couple of verses he sang, a ditty of Phoibos, clearspoken in few words after some Amyclaian style: Apollo brought to life again his longhaired Hyacinthos: Staphylos will be made to live for aye by Dionysos.

So since he is singing inspired by amyclean stories it probably means in that place it was believed Apollo was the one to bring back his lover to life.

Apollo as god of order was very important so i think it shows how special these people (and admetus too) were to him that he decided to go against the order for them 🥺

ANON!! Shakes you like a bottle of ramune!! BELOVED ANON!!!!! I'm littering your face with kisses, I'm anointing you with olive oil and honey - you absolutely made my night with this because, not only did I get the pure serotonin shot of having someone interact with my tags (yippee, wahoo!!) I also got to have that wonderful feeling of "oh wow, have I misunderstood something that was integral to my understanding of this myth/figure this whole time or is this a case of interpretational differences?" which is imo vital for my aims and interests as someone who enjoys mythological content and literature.

I'll preface my response with this: Hyacinthus is by far the hardest of these to get accounts for because his revival itself, as you very astutely point out, is generally accounted for in painting/ritual format which muddies the waters on who interceded for what. I wasn't actually familiar with that passage from the Argonautica - and certainly didn't remember it so thank you very much for bringing it to my attention!

That said, what I've come to understand, both about Hyacinthus and about Asclepius is that in the accounts of their deaths, Apollo's position is startlingly clear.

For Hyacinthus, it is established time and again that Apollo would have sacrificed everything for him - his status, his power, his very own immortality and divinity. Ovid writes that Apollo would have installed him as a god if only he had the time:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses. Book X. trans. Johnston)

Many other writers too speak of how Apollo abandoned his lyre and his seat at Delphi to spend his days with Hyacinthus, but they also all agree that when it came to his death - he was powerless. Ovid gives that graphic account of Apollo's desperation as he tries all his healing arts to save him to no avail:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book X. Apollo me boy, methinks him dead. trans Johnston)

Bion, in one of his fragments, writes that Apollo was "dumb" upon seeing Hyacinthus' agony:

(Bion, The Bucolic Poets. Fragment XI. trans Edmonds)

Even Nonnus in the Dionysiaca speaks constantly of Apollo's helplessness in the face of Hyacinthus' fate where he writes that the god still shivers if a westward wind blows upon an iris:

and when Zephyros breathed through the flowery garden, Apollo turned a quick eye upon his young darling, his yearning never satisfied; if he saw the plant beaten by the breezes, he remembered the quoit, and trembled for fear the wind, so jealous once about the boy, might hate him even in a leaf...

(Nonnus, Dionysiaca, Book 3. trans Rouse)

And the point here is just that - Apollo, at least as far as I've read, cannot avert someone's death. He simply can't. Once they're already dead - once Fate has cut their string - all Apollo's power is gone and he can do nothing no matter how much he wants to. And this is, as far as I know, supported with the accounts of Asclepius as well!

Since you specifically brought up Ovid's account, I'll also stick only to Ovid's account but in Metamorphoses when we get Ovid's version of Coronis' demise, he writes that Apollo intensely and immediately regrets slaughtering Coronis. He regrets it so intensely that he, like he does with Hyacinthus, does his best to resuscitate her:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo's regret)

And like Hyacinthus, when it becomes clear that what has happened cannot be undone, Apollo wails:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo wept.)

Unlike his mother, Asclepius in her womb had not yet died and so, with the last of Apollo's strength, he does manage, at least, to save him.

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo puts the 'tearing out' in Asclepius.)

But it goes further than even that because Ocyrhoe, Chiron's daughter, a prophetess who unduly gained the ability to directly proclaim the secrets of the Fates, upon seeing the baby Asclepius, immediately prophesies his glory, his inevitable death and then his fated ascension:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses, Book Two. Ocyrhoe's prophecy. trans Johnston)

Before she too succumbs to her hubris and is transformed by the Fates into a horse so she can no longer speak secrets that aren't hers to share.

These things ultimately are important because it establishes two very important things: 1) Apollo can't do anything in the face of the ultimate Fate of mortals, which is, of course, death and 2) even when Apollo is Actively Devastated, regretful, yearning, mournful, guilty or some unholy combination of all of the above, when someone is dead, he accepts that they are gone. Even if he is devastated by it, even if he'll cry all the rest of his days about it - if they're dead? Apollo lets them go. In Fasti, when Zeus brings Asclepius back, he does not say Apollo asked him to - Zeus, or well, in this case Jove, brings Asclepius back because he wants Apollo to stop being mad at him.

(Ovid, Fasti VI. Apollo please come home your father misses you. trans. A.S Kline)

Even Boyle's translation which you used above in your findings hints that Zeus made Asclepius a god because he wanted Apollo to stop grieving. (i.e 'smile at your father', 'for your sake [he] undoes his prohibitions')

And like, Apollo was deeply upset by Asclepius' death - apart from killing the Cyclops in anger, in book 4 of the Argonautica, Apollonius writes that the Celts believe the stream of Eridanus to be the tears Apollo shed over the death of Asclepius when he left for Hyperborea after being chastised by Zeus for killing his Cyclops:

But the Celts have attached this story to them, that these are the tears of Leto's son, Apollo, that are borne along by the eddies, the countless tears that he shed aforetime when he came to the sacred race of the Hyperboreans and left shining heaven at the chiding of his father, being in wrath concerning his son whom divine Coronis bare in bright Lacereia at the mouth of Amyrus.

It all paints a very clear picture to me. Apollo did not ask for either of them to be brought back. Though bringing them back certainly pleased and delighted him, they are actions of other gods who are moved by Apollo's grief and mourning and seek to mollify him. Him not asking doesn't mean he didn't want them back which I think is a very important distinction by the by, but it simply means that Apollo knows the natural order of things and, even if it hurts, he isn't going to press his luck about it.

Which, of course, brings us to Admetus. And I'm really not going to overcomplicate this, Admetus is different because, very vitally, Admetus is not dead. Apollo can't do a thing once Fate has been carried out and Death has claimed a mortal but you know what he absolutely can do? Bargain like hell with the Fates before that point of inevitability. And that's what he does, ultimately for Admetus and Alcestis. He sought to prolong Admetus' life, not revive him from death or absolve him from death altogether and even after getting the Fates drunk, he's still only able to organise a sacrifice - a life for a life - something completely contingent on whether some other mortal would be willing to die in Admetus' place and not at all controllable by Apollo's own power.

All of these things, I think come back to that point you made - that Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore these people are very special to him if it means he's willing to go against that order but, I also wish to challenge that opinion if you'd let me. Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore, I would argue, that it is even more important that it is shown that he does not break the divine order, especially for the people that mean the most to him. The original context of my comments which started this conversation were on this lovely, lovely post by @hyacinthusmemorial which contemplated upon Asclepius from the perspective of an Emergency Medical personnel and included, in their tags, the very poignant lines "there's something about Apollo letting go when Asclepius couldn't that eats my heart away" and "you do what you can, you do your best, but you don't ever reach too far" and I think that's perfectly embodied with the Apollo-Asclepius dichotomy. Apollo grieves. He wails, he cries, he does his best each and every time to save that which is precious to him but he does not curse their nature, he does not resent that they are human and ultimately, he accepts that that which is mortal must inevitably die. There is nothing that so saliently proves that those who uphold rules are also their most staunch followers - if Apollo wants to delight in his place as Fate's mouthpiece, he cannot undo Fate. And, if even the god of healing and order himself cannot undo death, what right does Asclepius, mortal as he is, talented as he is, have to disrespect it?

The beauty of these stories isn't that Apollo loved them enough to bring them back. The beauty is that Apollo loved them enough to let them go.

[feroluce]

For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

[meownotgood]

I'm going back to bed the moment I post this but I've been having a super rough and stressful night... so for whatever reason I went back to read some of the kind asks I've received since I saved a lot... some since the first time I started writing... and I got so emotional and just began sobbing haha.... I can't believe how lucky I am...... I love writing so much.........

[marimbles]

i miss carpisuns sometimes </3

[doctorwhoisadhd]

hmm thinking about the idea of love songs. i think the idea of what a love song is that we have in our culture is inherently a little bit flawed because we have the idea that any song written about romantic feelings is a love song and im thinking thats not exactly true because there is a difference between "romance" and "love". what i'm saying is not that love is a broader category and applies to things that are not romantic in nature. this is in fact true, but it's not what makes the important distinction here. the true distinction between "romance" and "love" is that romance is a societally defined type of interest in another person, whereas love is, essentially, a promise that you make when you build a relationship.

as such, what i call "love" here might be better defined as "care", as that implies more time and effort, but that's a different suitcase to unpack and largely unimportant to my point here, which is more about the societal conventions of what we call love songs. the point is, relationships can be built with other people, yes, but also animals, places, organizations, ideas, so on and so on, whereas romance requires another person, hence the difference between the ideas of "romance" and "love".

with that in mind, there are two types of songs we in western, english speaking, society call "love songs":

1) songs that are about a person's romantic interest in someone that is either definitively known to be unrequited (existing monogamous relationship, sexuality that doesn't align, etc) or simply not requited (aka romantic interest being unknown); and

2) songs about an existing relationship (keeping in mind my points about relationships not just being with people, but also places, things, etcetera) as is.

(some examples of the latter category: mountaintop by relient k, which defines the relationship in question as non-romantic; or i miss my mum by cavetown, which is - as the title implies - a song about the singer missing their mother.)

now, the thing that makes distinguishing these two difficult is the fact that songs about an existing relationship CAN be about wanting certain aspects of that relationship to change. in these cases, determining that a song is one or the other will hinge either on a) authorial intent or b) whether the song is more about what the singer wants (thereby implying #1) or the lack thereof in that relationship (which would imply #2).

to get back to the subject at hand: the term "love song", as we think of it, is an umbrella term that include both of these two categories, and i think that perhaps it is reductive to do so. with that in mind, i think perhaps it would be more appropriate for "love song" to mean only the latter, whereas the former is a category of its own. WHICH is not to say that the two can't overlap — just that if a song is about a person with whom the singer has no relationship, it cannot be considered a love song due to the fact that it is a song about infatuation, not love.

(another interesting wrinkle this provides is the fact that a song might start out in the first category and, as the writer develops a relationship with a person, might move into the second category as they write more.)