#in other words i asked my parents multiple times to get rid of the mold and they hand waved it in different forms

[surfs-up-brian]

I swapped out breathing in mold for breathing in bleach today

[tobi-momo]

"The Setter's Help" Chapter 3

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Volleyball player!reader

Synopsis: With a big game coming up, the confidence in your setting has gone down significantly. Knowing the setter on the Karasuno boy's volleyball club is good at what he does, you ask him for help. Will he help you build your confidence and skills or will he just tear it down more?

Genre: Romance, fluff, some crack, angst, hurt/comfort

Chapter Warnings: nothing much, maybe some cursing?Word Count: 1.7k

Taglist: open!! send an ask :p

a/n: hi okakdhdh this is mostly a filler episode bc i wanted to update it and so more bigger chapters will come later on :)

“Did I do that right?” You ask curiously as you turn towards the net, looking at your hands and arms. Kageyama walks toward you in concentration as he lifts your arms up with his hands; they were very soft and gentle for an athlete, you noticed. He didn’t drag your limbs anywhere, just politely placing them where they were needed.

“Almost,” he mumbles, distracted by focus as he corrects your form while you huff in frustration with yourself, turning down towards the floor, your eyes tracing the colored lines on the polished wood. “Relax, it isn’t that bad. Your finger and your thumb were a little too far apart, that’s why the ball doesn’t have as much power and it keeps slipping. Try it again.”

Sighing, you get back into positing, taking in his glance of determination as he squats to toss you the ball. You breathe in and out carefully, eyeing the ball with focus as it comes flying towards your chest.

Too low.

The toss was a good one, just a little low, so you knew you had to get under it, like he said. The ball is just centimeters closer when you recall everything he’s been teaching you: getting under the ball, your form, the positions, back-row setting, racking your brain for a solution to getting under this as fast as possible. Then you remember. Just move your legs a little to the right, bend your knees and lower your stance, and you’ll be fine. No fuss needed. The ball comes crashing in once your brain comes back in motion, your right foot slamming on the ground, your body getting just a tiny bit lower to the ground as you narrow your eyes toward your objective. You watch your thumbs get closer to your index fingers as you finally make contact with the ball, letting it fall into your hands, then pushing it upwards with the flick of your wrists, sending it out towards the middle front position.

The ball smacks the floor with an echo, your eyes shining. You did that right. At least, you assume so from how cool it looked. It wasn’t much, since you set to a lower position, but the way the ball fell perfectly in your hands, like you were molding it to your will, was a feeling you didn’t want to get rid of.

“That was so cool,” you breathe out, your hands on your knees while you squint an eye at the ground, catching your breath. A smile appeared under your nose, the corners of your lips tugging upwards as you bite your lip. Maybe you had a slight chance.

“Looked good.”

“What?” You shout, throwing your hands up as you walk towards him. “You gotta give me more than that, Kageyama, tell me what you really think.” You look in his eyes, them refusing to show emotion towards you. At this point you knew that he was holding back, that he could do so much more but just doesn’t know how. You planned to help him with that.

You could see the surprise in his face as his eyes widened, immediately looking away. He clears his throat, “your form was okay and your set was accurate,” is all he says, turning completely around so his back could face you instead of his chest, his head shaking a couple times, as if to rid the mind of something, before he starts to lead himself away. You nod in understanding, thinking about the possible ways to fix that in your head next time.

“I’m heading out,” he calls, grabbing his volleyball and strapping it over his shoulder.

“Mm, okay! Thank you! I can already tell I’m getting better,” you spout to him cheerily, waving to him as he makes his way out. You were surprised by the amount of reaction on his face; you couldn’t tell if he was shocked or surprised to hear something like that.

“Bye,” he mutters. You could tell he took it as a compliment, as you meant it, and forgot how to react. All you did was smile, though. Smile at him as he leaves the gym, the door shutting loudly as he exits.

You sigh, hurrying to grab another ball before jogging to the nearest wall, playing with the ball in your hands, spinning it and bouncing it with your palms. You needed to master this. You needed to be perfect. No exceptions. Even if you had to stay all night, it needed to be done.

~.~.~.~

You cursed under your breath, wanting to scream but holding back as the night sky showed through the window panes. You never bothered to check your phone, forgetting the time. You don’t think it matters anyways, since this was more important. You were hungry, your fingers hurt and your thighs were sore. You ignored it, continuing to hit the ball at the wall, waiting for it to bounce back up at you until you set the ball back at the wall, coming to you again to spike it. It was an endless cycle. One that you’ve broken multiple times by your inability to move. Your hand placements weren’t any better and you weren’t using your legs enough. You had hoped no one would see you mess up so many times; the embarrassment would surely kill you.

The second your phone rang you stopped the ball, curiously, sluggishly walking over to see the matter.

Oh shit.

Your parents messaged you, wondering where you’ve gone. It was past nine-thirty at night, as you would have left about four hours earlier when your lessons with Kageyama ended. You needed to leave before you never saw the light of day again.

~.~.~.~

Your muscles were tired, dead. You wanted to crawl inside a hole and never come out. But here you are, walking down the hallway to reach your class. Your body didn’t want to cooperate with you, but you could bear it, at least until after your private practice.

You saw him a couple times in the hall, not paying any attention to you, even looking the other way. You wanted to greet him, but you cut yourself the possible embarrassment when you just walk past him. Except- you weren’t walking anymore. Your body halts completely as you look at an orange-haired boy bombarding you with a shout of your name.

“Y/n! You’re Y/n, right?”

“Uh, yeah, why?” You stutter, confused.

“Hinata, dumbass! Get away from her, you're scaring her!” Kageyama’s voice chimes in, you hear. A yell you were oh, so familiar with. You awkwardly laugh as you back up, being stopped yet again as your back hits a firm chest. Your head whips around to see a much bigger figure than you, a bigger boy towering over you with a smirk, a beanie, and his short friend next to him.

What the fuck was going on?

“So, Y/n, huh?” The taller boy says, taking a step towards you.

“Uh, what? Yes- me. That’s my name.” Trying to look for a lifeline, you see Kageyama’s arms raised as to stop the boy, yet refraining himself from doing it. Why was that?

The short boy laughs, moving closer to you as well. “We heard you were friends with our Kageyama-kun. We just wanted to say hi,” he smiles, mischief painted all around it.

“What? I mean, I guess? We aren’t really friends he’s just helping me with my skills an-”

“Kageyama!”

“What!?”

“You said you were friends!”

“No I didn’t! I said we weren’t dating!”

What.

“What?” Your eyes flicker between each man, their expressions telling you that his sentence wasn’t supposed to slip.

“Kageyama, stupid! You weren’t supposed to say that!”

“I didn’t know??”

“Shhhhhhhhh let us talk to her,” the taller boy interrupts the orange-haired boy and Kageyama, bringing the short boy further into the picture. Leaving forever has never sounded as good an option as it has right now.

"How do you feel about our Kageyama-kun, Y/n-san?" The short boy speaks up. Your eyes travel to Kageyama, who seems too occupied with pushing the orange-haired boy away from him, yelling curses and insults his way, the other reciprocating.

You decide to ask the most obvious question. "Who are you guys?"

"What?!" They all yell in unison incredulously, staring at you.

"What?" You ask obliviously.

"How come you know Kageyama and not us?" The short boy shouts, stepping closer.

"Well, I went to a couple of your games and saw that Kageyama was really good so I asked around who he was, I guess I never got the rest of your names," you think, not noticing the open mouths of everyone surrounding you.

"Well then," the taller boy cleared his throat, clearing the atmosphere, "I guess we'll have to introduce ourselves."

"Yeah!"

"Um, okay?" You reply, still uncomfortable.

"I'm Tanaka-"

"I'm Nishinoya! We're your senpai's!" He exclaims excitedly, a gleam in his eyes when he says 'senpai'.

"Dude! I was gonna say that!" Tanaka whines.

"I'm sorry! Just got a little excited."

"Hey! I'm Hinata Shoyo," the orange-haired boy tells you politely and cheekily. You smile at him, grateful that he wasn't in your face for too long. Looking to the side, you catch Kageyama staring at you, concentrated and lost in his head as his eyes stick to your figure.

You didn't need to check the time to know you were going to be late if you didn't head to class, so you greeted the boys back.

"Nice to meet all of you, see you guys later! Bye, Kageyama-kun!" You say before walking off. He caught the way your smile seemed a little more genuine that time. It might just be him but it seems as if you were glowing more.

You might have been, maybe just a little bit, been shining a bit more today. You couldn't see it yourself, and surely nobody else noticed from the way their backs were turned away and their mouths were constantly making noise while engaging in conversations, so why was it noticeable to Kageyama? Why was he the only one to see the fact that even though you had dark circles and the smallest of limps, you were more obvious to him than anyone else?

He was curious, but kept his mouth shut. He didn't need to be embarrassed again.

a/n: ok i know the ending sucks i just really needed to end it, i kept getting stuck on this chapter im so sorry kajdhf also dw- everything will come into play- dw :)

taglist: @luvrboykento @elektrosonix @haikyuutothetop @combat-wombatus @jungkxxkk @hp-hogwartsexpress

Masterlist

[alohcmcrax]

→  diagon  alley  is  home  to  many  ,  a  direct  connection  to  the  wizarding  world  ,  right  in  the  centre  of  london  ,  many  people  like  LUCIUS MALFOY  ,  spend  majority  of  his  time  in  the  busy  alley  ,  people  know  him  as  the  twenty three year  old  who  is  a  past  slytherin  graduate,  now studying to  be  the Hogwarts’ Governor  ,  i  think  the  role  suits  them  perfectly  as  i  think  they  are  INTELLIGENT but  also  they  can  be  MANIPULATIVE  ,  but  that's  just  my  opinion  .  

Lucius was conceived purely for the sake of carrying on the family line, born to parents that would have preferred having no children at all. And while this was a fact, the couple decided to have two. The perfect boy and the perfect girl. With incredibly distant parents, Lucius did what he could to survive. His mother only used him as a means to keep his father and his father put his focus on making him the perfect heir. Lucius’ mother rarely interacted with him unless it was to introduce him to other socialites or to scold him to look after his younger sister. Lucius remembers however that as soon as events were done, she was quick to get rid of him. 

He has very few memories of attempts to try to get some affection from his mother and rarely reviving any. His father had always sworn to never lay a hand on Lucius or point his wand and was almost successful. However, his words were much worse than any physical punishment could have ever been mixed in with an occasional threat that despite were never followed through made Lucius afraid of making any wrong moves. All his father had to do was give Lucius a look for him to comply. However, Lucius began to notice that there were flickers of moments where he’d get acknowledged if he did as told. So he began to mold himself to become the heir they were hoping for. 

For his mother, he learned different languages ( spanish, latin, french ) and how to play multiple instruments ( saxophone, clarinet, guitar ). This would make it easier for him to show off these skills whenever she saw fit. However, it couldn’t be so easy. She always had a complaint on how he mispronounced something or missed a note. For his father, he made sure to excel in all his studies and even attended some of the dull meetings that he’d drag him to. He learned how to sit and not fidget. How to present himself as someone worth knowing and even learned how to manage their money at a young age. 

Lucius knew better than to run around and make himself look a fool as a kid. He was one of the most well behaved in his circle of peers. The only time he ever received any form of praise from his parents was when they showed off just how perfect their son was. 

At Hogwarts, Lucius made sure that he was sorted into Slytherin despite the possibility of also being placed into Ravenclaw. However, Lucius knew better. While at school, the expectations were clear. Top marks, no detentions, and no misbehaving. 

He made it for his first two years and accidentally made it late to class one day which earned him a howler shouting at him in French. It never happened again. 

Lucius earned a prefect position and went on to become head boy. He kept top marks through all seven years at Hogwarts and stayed out of any trouble. However, he was smart enough to make scathing remarks or throw the occasional hex here and there when there were no professors around and a point needed to be made. 

Upon graduating, his father had a set expectation about his son becoming more directly involved in Hogwarts and what was being taught as well as finding a suitable wife. There was no time to waste and so Lucius did not and quickly started to work through what his father asked. 

Lucius does not see himself as a good person, he can be arrogant and downright cruel sometimes if provoked. He knows there’s a war brewing and he doesn’t really think he has a choice on which end to be. He understands where his parents are coming from and why they support the side they do and he understands why it’s important to keep wix blood pure. To Lucius, family is the most important thing and so he follows their requests regardless of the consequences and what they may mean for him. Maybe one day, he’ll make them proud. 

[lady-olive-oil]

Distraction Ch.1

Chapter 1

A/N: AYE!!!!!! Here we go ya’ll, here we go! its a longer than i anticipated for the first chapter but it’s something. The title has been changed, mainly because i love Kehlani but still has the vibes of the last title I had. Each chapter will have a different picture, either both of them together or one of each for the characters in their point of view. I have a tag list squad, so if you’d like to be in it, let me know. Alright here we go!

Word count: 1,631

Words in Swahili: Kubeba [bear], Ni habari gani [whats the news?]

Song: Legend Has It by Run The Jewels

{Back to Winston Duke/M’Baku List}

Tag Squad: @itsmegarabitch || @curbedcharybdis [if i forgot your name let me know!!!

enjoy!

-Amina’s POV-

Another day, another dollar. No time for slacking, no time for errors. You can take the girl out of the fashion world, but you can’t take the fashion out of the girl. Being a fashion designer, there was never a dull moment. Just like being the owner of your own boutique. You heard that right, I own The Jungle Boutique, Manhattan. Not too far from where I live, which is Brooklyn. With fashion week being over, I managed to get some random sketches done for fun, whenever I have free time. I do have a little following going on, which isn’t too bad if I do say so myself. WiI had my black Beats headphones in my ears, shielding the world around me, as I sketched a few designs in my book. Bobbing my head to the music, getting a feel of the rhythm of the graphite strokes on the paper. The prismacolors molded against the intricate lines, shaping the garments effortlessly as i went on.

“Amina.” the faint noise of something or someone wasn’t very far.

“Hear what I say, we are the business today, Fuck shit is finished today RT & J, we the new PB & J We dropped a classic today. We did a tablet of acid today, Did joints with the masses and ashes away SKRRRT! We dash away, Donner and Dixon, the pistol is blastin’ away”

“Amina.” there voice spoke again, in the distance that spoke calmly and easily.

“Doctors of death, Curing our patients of breath. We oughta pay you the trust, Crooked at work Cookin’ up curses and slurs Smokin’ my brain into mush. I became famous for blamin’ you fucks Maimin’ my way through the brush. There is no training or taming of me and my bruh, Look like a man, but I’m animal raw”

“Amina!” The voice yelled this time as i kept on sketching, nodding my head to Legend Has It by Run The Jewels. That was until my right earbud was yanked out my ear, forcing me to draw my elbow back, and send an angry glare at the culprit at hand. Yet i was caught, looking up at a very amused Winston.

“Winston! You know damn well you can’t just yank someone’s headphones out!” My thick and heavy accent had shone through, like many times before when I was either tired or distraught. His laughter was something else. Laughing at my pain in the process, one of his hands rested on my shoulder while holding his stomach with the other.

“Oh come on Mimi. It was just a friendly little getsure, don’t take it to heart. Plus, your receptionist Janice, let me up before she left to switch with some guy named Jonah.” There goes that nickname. It never left the 4th grade. He tried to calm his laughter but it was to no avail, sadly enough. Janice and Jonah, my receptionists and old college friends, never ceased to amaze me. Lord knows i’ll have a fille day with them two asking me questions tomorrow.

With a roll of my sweet chocolate brown eyes, closing my book in the process and leaning back in my chair, I gave him a look. Why was he here exactly? Not that I didn’t mind at all, it was nice to see an old friend, especially him. He was the best friend anyone could possibly ask for in any crises. That’s why I called him bear, when we were kids. Now he’s this big star doing extraordinary things with his career, that makes me proud to be from Brooklyn. Making it seems like anything was possible, and that it can be done.

“OK, i have to ask. Why are you here kubeba? Shouldn’t you be at auditions?” I asked him curiously as i watched him pace around the room with excitement, something must be good.

“Well bunny, kind of. You ready for it?”

What was this boy up to? Whatever it was, it must’ve been a good thing to  make him so giddy.

“As I’ll ever be, oh great one. Release your good news upon the village people.” The look on his face was priceless when it was my turn to laugh. It was do deadpanned that even roadkill was jealous, yet he joined in. Doubling over this time, I clutched my stomach and caught my breath.

He was always a tough one to crack, when it came to jokes. I got him to laugh every time, regardless if it was bad or not. I’d like to see one of his little girlfriends do that, without being all up on him like a starfish. You could say I’m a little protective over the women he chooses to date. OK maybe not a little but you get my drift. None of them liked me anyway, because he’d always ask me to check them out for him, or help to get rid of them like that one movie What’s Your Number. Yeah it never ended well for him or I to be honest. They’d all think i was his girl in the end, and that was not the case by any means. Many a times I have thought about being with him, but then I’d think about our friendship in the end. In school I’d be the one getting picked on because of how darkly pigmented my skin was, different from my brothers. Being Afro-Latina in my way, was a gift as my mother would say. Yes i’ve grown into my head and my body curved itself out but what can you do? Plus, i grew my hair out more and it’s literally larger than life. Snapping back into reality, I grabbed his hand that was waving in my face.

“Earth to madame Jakande. You ok?” His concerned voice was soft and gentle, yet worried.

“Yeah. yeah I’m fine. Just uh, daydreaming again. So uh what’s this grandiose news you have for me, ye old one?” I had to get my mind back in the right state of mind, so i gathered my belongings and headed for the elevator for the day.

“I am older than you, yes, so respect your elders.” He poked my side and caused me to yelp, as he followed in tow.

“You’re only older than me by 10 days, ya goofball. Anyway, ni habari gani?” the anticipation was killing me as to what he had in store, as we both descended down the elevator down to the main floor. Manhattan was always busy, no matter what time of day it was. It was however, currently noon on a brisk Sunday afternoon.

“Well since you spoke in Swahili, it is one of the many languages my character in The Black Panther knows. In fact, I’m also the leader of a tribe.” He smiled brightly at me with soft chuckle. At that moment i stopped us both in front of my boutique store front window, giving him a shocked look with a huge grin.

I gave him a once over one good time before saying anything. He had told me that he had gotten a huge role in a movie that would break possible barriers but never told me what it was. I even looked all over the internet and found nothing despite my search. I grew up reading comic books at a young age, because of my parents and older brother, so i knew a little bit. Once he said Black Panther, I had to think for a bit and then I got it.

“Wait, wait. You’re a huge guy so I can only think of one character for you to be. The great M’Baku, leader of the Jabari tribe!” i squealed way too loud as I gave him a congratulatory hug on his huge accomplishment. His strong arms enveloped me in return, laughing himself.

“Someone knows their stuff! Look at you nzuri! Listen as great gesture for being my right hand girl, how about we do lunch? I pay, you pick the place” Releasing himself from our heart warming embrace, he looked at me with hopeful eyes. Damn him for being 6’4.

“Ugh, deal. You drive a hard bargain, oh great leader. I wonder how your girl, Ashanti is gonna take this.” with a sweet wink and a chuckle, we walked side by side towards Del Posto, to discuss his future.

“About her, we broke up actually. Because she got tired of me working more hours.” The look of defeat fell upon his chiseled features as he explained it, but a smile bounced back.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Winston. Listen, you need to stop serial dating and look for a woman to settle down with, you know? You’re in your early 30’s, I think it’s time.” He rolled his eyes at me this time and smiled graciously, as I let out a sweet laugh. If only he knew.

“Yeah, yeah. When the time is right, I will. Now let’s eat and discuss my wardrobe for this premier. You are styling me right?” He offered me his hand to do the Wakandan salute that I know from the trailers, and we both did it.

“Oh hell yeah. You know i am. What kind of friend would i be if i didn’t use skills for good instead of evil?” walking inside the restaurant, we were greeted by an aroma of multiple things and sat at our usual table by the window.

“To us. Two best friends, living their dreams in the city and conquering everything. But, not losing sight of themselves.” he made a little speech before we clinked our wine glasses together.

Oh yeah, this was going to be an interesting year for him, and also me as well.

[residentevilprompts]

Lucas Baker x Reader- Same Old

I suggest listening to this as you read: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUZeSYsU0Uk

You couldn't exactly pinpoint when it started.

You could only remember when it suddenly became too much.

.

.

.

You had always known that the Bakers were a welcoming family. They cared for each other and there was always food on the table by the end of the day. Jack Baker, the father of the Bakers, was a loving man who took pride in his charity work and lived to make his family smile. Marguerite Baker, the mother of the Bakers, was a chatty woman who always smelt of baked sugar- which wasn't coincidental. She basically lived in the kitchen. Zoe Baker, the only daughter, was a little rebellious but always protected her family and their livelihood. And Lucas Baker, the supposed 'bad seed' of the Baker family, was a lanky man who found great delight in machinery and helping his Dad in their workshop.

Living amongst the tightly-knit family was wonderful and they seemed to enjoy your company too. Marguerite had even suggested that you call her 'Mom' in good humour, which had made you feel even more like part of the family. But you were only supposed to stay there for the summer. It was just a break from work and your own family. And as much as you adored your parents, it was nice to have semi-normal people around you for once.

You had been so grateful when Lucas had offered you a room.

The so-called 'bad seed' of the Bakers was honestly, albeit a little quirky, a good man. Many of the locals had a twisted version of Lucas in their mindsets, which you just couldn't understand. Yes, he was a little crude, but most young adults weren't the politest beings on earth. And maybe he did have an odd hobby, but being able to create trip-wire bombs and completing 300-piece-puzzles in under five minutes was pretty cool in your book. The locals just expected too much of him. Lucas was supposed to be his own person, not a mini-replica of his dad.

He had seemed relieved when you had voiced this opinion. The poor guy. He had so much ridicule riding on his shoulders.

Yet the summer continued on without a care.

In the early mornings, you would help Zoe and Marguerite around the house or with cooking as Jack and Lucas tested out new tools or started a new project. Around midday, both men would retreat back to the house for lunch and you would stick with Lucas until dinner. The two of you would experiment with new metals and wires in this downtime, and sometimes you would watch as he designed a new ‘trap room’. You wouldn’t have been surprised if Lucas’ aspiration in life was to become a designer for escape games.

At six, all the family would return to the dining room for dinner and you would happily converse with the Bakers until dinner was finished. Afterwards, you and Lucas would crash on the living room sofas with a bowl of popcorn or some ice cream. The two of you would watch a movie and it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to be found curled up in uncomfortable-looking positions in the early hours of the morning. The crick in your neck was always worth it in the end.

The majority of the summer went by in this pattern until one morning. 

Lucas had gone out on the swamp due to a lack of supplies and had returned with a child and their mother. There had been an explosion onboard a ship passing through, the mother and child being the only survivors that Lucas had discovered.

The mother and little girl were accepted with open arms. Mia, as the mother had referred to herself as, seemed very distant from Eveline, her daughter. It was a large contrast from how Eveline clung and trailed behind her 24/7.

Then came the black mold and the tar substance on the walls.

Jack had assured everyone that it was probably his fault for not cleaning out the cabinets since Zoe's birth as he was always trying to keep her out of trouble. That had made everyone laugh. Mia and Eveline didn’t seem to find the joke funny. Mia just looked plain uncomfortable.

Then came the sudden changes of moods. 

Jack was suddenly more violent. He found joy in crushing previous projects he had made with Lucas. It wasn’t until he became too enthusiastic and sliced his hand open with his chainsaw, did everyone realise something wasn’t right.

Zoe grew distant and tried to space herself from everyone else. She ended up moving out of the house and into a trailer of her own, though it was only a few metres away from the door.

Marguerite slowly fell into bad habits concerning bugs and poor cooking skills. Some of the concoctions she created just made you feel ill by looking at them. When you refused to eat her food, claiming you had eaten too much for lunch, she had grown enraged and yelled until you had run out of the room and into the safety of Lucas’ room.

Something was wrong.

The man you had become best friends with was also changing. He wasn’t as mellow and eager anymore. He was more malicious and taunting towards you. He seemed more irritated too, yet you could tell that he still cared for you. His hugs lingered longer and as the house deteriorated, he began moving your belongings into his room.

You slowly came to realise the changes in yourself too. You no longer got up early, night terrors keeping you awake for hours, and multiple words- voices- whirling around your mind at all times. The words were never kind. You would never repeat them to anyone.

Mia and Eveline, they seemed to change too.

Mia was always so scared. She tried to avoid Eveline as much as possible and Jack once caught her trying to leave the swamp by boat. In a blind rage, he had swung an axe at her and nailed her in the forehead.

She was awake and walking five minutes later.

Then there was Eveline.

Eveline had taken the role of a little sister to Zoe, Lucas and you. She still referred to Mia as her mother but looked up to Marguerite and Jack as godparents of sorts. Neither seemed to take it positively, both having started asking everyone to call them ‘Daddy’ and ‘Momma’.

It was all too much.

Too much...

.

.

.

The sound of whirring cogs drew you back to the present, your back pressing deeper into the crescent which the two walls created. The corner was your safe place, the only place where the voices wouldn’t speak, the only place you could sleep without the fear of night terrors.

The corner kept you safe.

“____, dinner.”

You lifted your eyes to the plate held in the intruder’s hand. Despite having accepted Eveline’s gift, you still had a small sense of morality buried in your twisted mind and the sight of human meat caused bile to rise.

“You need to eat, or else you’ll become a pile of bones, just like the new guy,” he cackled.

You buried yourself deeper into the corner and wrapped your arms tighter around your calves. The voices were whispering again. They were saying bad things. They knew you couldn’t die. They knew the Bakers couldn’t die. Mortals were fun to mess with. Mortals could be killed.

The corner keeps you safe.

The corner keeps you safe.

The corner keeps you saf-

The plate made a low grating noise as it was pushed onto a solid surface and Lucas’ footsteps drew closer. The large man crouched in front of you, the voices retreating at the sight of his face. 

Lucas smiled, his eyes hollow and reflecting your mentally-damaged appearance. A rustling coming from his right hand drew your attention elsewhere. 

“I’m sorry.”

The chocolate bar lay limply from Lucas’ fingertips as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his actions slow and calculated. He drew back and laid the chocolate bar in your hand, his forehead leaning against your own.

“I’ll be back, but someone has to get rid of that prick,” Lucas mumbled. “I’ll see if my Clown Trap works on him like it did on Clancy,” he grinned and you couldn’t help but smile. He’s still the same old Lucas.

Lucas keeps you safe.

Lucas keeps you sane.

[empty-church]

Sharing Your Faith at Work - Special Guest: David Lermy

Special Guest Blogger: David Lermy

About the Author | David Lermy Twitter David is an ordained minister, public relations specialist, and freelancer writer. As an avid reader, he is rarely without a book close by and loves sharing about what he’s reading. You can learn more about David and check out some of his other posts and book reviews at http://www.leadinghappy.com.

Typically, sharing faith at work has been seen in two diametric opposites. Either it’s the incredibly passionate religious zealot others run and hide from or the lazy, religious hipster who finds anything other than prayer and contemplation beneath him.

I am pretty sure through my journey as a Christian I have been in both groups. Obviously, this is a gross exaggeration because there are so many nuances in-between. But you get the point.

For us, we want to look at productive and healthy ways to share faith at work – that place we spend 40 plus hours a week or more. Many separate out their life as work, family, and recreation. Yet, when added up, we spend a huge amount of time at work around the same people for months and years on end.

When I realized this, I found that my work relationships and contacts were much deeper than I first realized. There was time created influence there that I had not tapped into for the kingdom of God.

So I came up with the acronym W.O.R.K. to help me and later others become more gospel-oriented at work.

W – Work Diligently  

I recall my first job as a young teen. I was 13 years old and volunteering for a local hospital. I remember sitting back and reading or goofing off with other volunteers while the “paid guys” did the work. I will never forget what my direct report said to me.

“David, I know your parents, and I know you are a Christian. You setting around being lazy makes you look bad. It makes us Christians look bad. We should be the hardest workers. We serve longer and with more care than others should!”

Rudy, the chief of security at the hospital, knew my parents well as he and my dad worked around each other for over 20 years. His words affected me. That summer ended up being awarded the hardest worker merit for us “candy striper volunteers.” When I gave the thank you speech, I was able to thank Rudy, and I was also able to speak about my faith in Christ to the hospital employees present.

The writer of Proverbs provides us some insight into the value of hard work:

"A hard worker has plenty of food, but a person who chases fantasies has no sense"  -- Proverbs 12:11 "Work hard and become a leader; be lazy and become a slave."  -- Proverbs 12:24

In other words, hard work is what leads to promotion, to more freedom in your work-life balance. Working hard allows you to move up the ladder and the further up you go the more platform and influence you hold.  Work hard, gain respect, and become the leader God desires you to become.

O – Opportunity Wise

As I moved up the leadership ladder, I found I had more time and space to influence people. So I began to pray that God would open my eyes to opportunities to share my faith.

"Devote yourselves to prayer with an alert mind and a thankful heart"  -- Colossians 4:2

I wanted my mind to alert to when those I worked for, alongside of, and especially above to know I was here for them. Not just as a colleague but as a caring friend. I prayed I would not be opportunity blind, an idea I first heard of from pastor and author, Mark Batterson. I was willing and I was ready!

"Instead, you must worship Christ as Lord of your life. And if someone asks about your hope as a believer, always be ready to explain it."  -- 1 Peter 3:15

Be ready to answer those who need hope. I knew I needed to focus on making Jesus real to people with real work, family, and life issues. I was learning to be a pastor in a company, which can be trickier than in a church. New mission; new methods!

R – Reinforce Values

Every work culture has values. Most of the time, they are plastered all over walls, business cards, and their webpage. Nevertheless, having values printed doesn’t mean the values are imbedded and lived out.

One thing I have done for years is to learn the values of the company or church I was working with and then to fold those values into how I worked and lived. This has never let me down.

Plus, values are something that Christians are taught to take to heart, think on, and live out. Values shape and mold us. As above, Rudy instilled in me the Christian value of hard work and servanthood. Further, Paul teaches that they are worthy of praise!

"And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise."  -- Philippians 4:8

For example, the current company I am with values health, wellness, and vitality. Many of the employees can be seen multiple times a day walking around the property. They walk for health benefits, but walking with others builds comradery. I’ve been able to share my faith at various times walking around with co-workers. Embracing the values of the company may allow you unique ways to share with others.

K – Kindness Matters

Finally, kindness matter isn’t simply a nicety, but the way we should approach anything we value. When you value someone you care for them. You are willing to put up with some junk to stay in relationship with them. You correct them when they are off the path.

The author of Ephesians explains, 

"Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and slander, as well as all types of evil behavior. Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you."  -- Ephesians 4:31-32

The same is true for us. We must first show we care for others before we can hope to share Christ with them. Think of it like this. If I am a jerk for a boss or a really incompetent leader, and then I go to others and share my faith, how much credit would I hold? Sure, the gospel has intrinsic value and worth in and of itself, but in today’s culture, the messenger matters. If you desire to carry the message of Jesus in the workplace, kindness must come naturally.

So to conclude, sharing the gospel at W.O.R.K. can be a stressful endeavor only because we try to do so in ways that don’t feel natural. Applying what we have discussed here can help you find a more natural fit to sharing with those you work with and lead.

Go ahead. Try it. You won’t regret it!

Workplace Wisdom Your Christian faith is becoming NSFW. How can you talk faith when HR tells you to keep quiet?

→ Catch up on all things Workplace Wisdom here.

*All verses are from the New Living Translation.