#it probably would have worsened had he been exposed a little longer but… everyone else succumbed to their interests! and the little guy wen

[fisherrprince]

its cute how erich’s magic-tempered desire mindset was “do job save friends do job save friends” at first

[rogue-durin-16]

AN UNUSUAL YEAR (Part V/V)

Summary: After having little to no interest on girls for five years, Fred suddenly feels the need to nag the shit out of a certain witch, completely oblivious to the reason behind it.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: fluff (+ enemies to lovers)

Tags:

An unusual year: @natural-hearts @manuosorioh @lumos-solemn @westyywifee @whiskeyn-rain @warlock--protection @gossip-girl-ecr @fandomscombine @birdy944 @28cnn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: a little angst, a little snogging 👀

A/N: maybe a bit longer than I expected but it's alright. Also I might write an addition to this story, not sure tho. I hope y'all enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it <3

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Y/n! Come sit with us?" George waved at me from the Gryffindor table as I entered the Great Hall, prompting me to sit across him and Angelina, and besides Fred. "Where's Mathilda?" He asked as I got closer, leaving my books on the wooden surface.

"She's feeling unwell." As I sat down, I noticed George's arm around Angelina and I couldn't help the knowing grin that tugged the corner of my lips. "The date exchange at the Ball turned out well, huh?"

"I could say the same about you." He wiggled his brows at me with the same grin I had.

I felt a sudden rush of panic going through my body. My eyes traveled to the boy by my side, who was oddly quiet, and I found him already peeking at me.

"Meaning?" I decided to play dumb, taking a bite of my golden slice of toast whilst ignoring the intending gazes of the couple in front of me.

"You two were having a great time last night." Angelina jumped in, leaning over her table. "Didn't see you coming back, Fred." She added, redirecting her eyes to the ginger.

"I did." His brother laughed. "I daresay you two had an intense night." I felt my cheeks reddening, not finding enough strength to meet George's look. "It was about time, really."

I was startled by Fred abruptly standing up. "See you in class." The curt reply he offered before fleeing shocked all of us; specially his brother, who, with a polite apology, left me and Angelina to go after his twin.

"I feel like I shouldn't ask." She spoke quietly.

"I don't have an answer."

I feared she would see through me. I hadn't lied, but my gut told me whatever happened had to do with the change of demeanor he had at the end of our night out.

I wouldn't say it out loud but a part of me began to worry.

The worry stayed throughout that entire week, guilt joining it at some point. Fred's attendance in Charms, Astronomy and Potions had decreased; I had only see him attend once to Astronomy. The only thing he did was play with his quill and, whenever he thought I didn't notice, stare at me.

Ironically enough, we started spending most of the time together; after the winter break, George had incorporated both Mathilda and me to their friend group, which, in different circumstances, would have been great.

Alicia Spinnet gained special interest on my best friend; Lee Jordan would joke about Slytherins and Gryffindors getting together, and Angelina— well, she seemed happier now that she could hang out with all her friends at the same time.

Fred was miserable. Everyone could see it, yet they did their best to cover it up.

George would overcompensate his brother's attitude by being louder and paying extra attention to me, but it worsened the situation.

I wanted to ask Fred what was wrong, but then again we weren't even good friends, so was it really my place to ask?

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

George had proposed a trip to Hogsmade a couple of days ago and we all agreed on going, but the day came and Fred wasn't there.

His brother alleged he had a terrible headache and had chosen to stay in bed. We all saw through his excuse, and once more no one said a word.

It was that night that George came to look for me.

"—well then, go get her!" His shouts got into the common room when a second year entered..

"What's this about?" I inquired, coming out to the hallway to see the ginger about to throw hands at my prefect.

"I need you." He stated, quickly losing interest on whatever the prefect had to say. I only nodded and motioned him to move with me far from the Slytherin door. "You have to speak to Fred now." He almost pleaded, a frown of worry forming on his face.

"Sure— wait, now?" I stared at him in confusion.

"Sorry, I know it's late" his apology didn't mean he would ask me to do it in the morning instead.

I let out a sigh before inquiring, "Where's he?"

"The Astronomy tower, I believe." He replied.

"Alright," I said more to myself. "I'll go grab my jacket." He murmured another apology and a thank you before heading off to his House.

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

I came to a halt at the top of the stairs when I saw him sat against the wall, his knees pulled to his chest with his arms around them, and his face buried between them."Hey there, stranger."

He raised his head, letting his eyes and nose be seen."Who gave me away?"

"George."

"Tosser" he muttered, taking his gaze to the levitating bundle of newspaper on fire that was probably keeping him somewhat warm up there.

"Is it that bad to see me now?" I took a couple of careful steps towards the boy.

"It's always that bad to see you."

"Odd for you to say that," I let myself slide down the wall to sit by his side with my legs stretched out. "given how much you stare."

"Touché." He replied, the ghost of a smile breaking through his depressed demeanor. "What are you doing here?"

"What's wrong?"

"I asked first."

"I asked second." He raised his brows at me and it was my turn to avert my eyes from him. "I'm... Worried. About you."

When I shivered due to the wind flowing through the tower, he scooted closer and moved the little fire with his wand for it to be in the middle.

"You're all dejected and sulky," I explained. "You barely attend to our classes together, and if you do, you don't pay attention." I felt him shift uncomfortable by my side. "I'm... I'm gonna regret this— I miss you being a bloody nuisance."

"I knew you loved it." His teasing, though it was meant to be funny, sounded almost painful.

"now, what's wrong?" He shrugged, his chin resting over his forearms. "Listen, if you're not gonna tell me, it's fine, but at least tell George."

"Are you thick?" The bitterness in his tone took me aback. "Y/n, I fancy you." He hid his face between his arms. "quite a lot, actually." He added in a mumble.

"I figured that at the ball, you know?" This time it was me who scooted closer. "Tell me that's not the reason behind this."

"Would you like me to lie?" He questioned, shame slipping out with his voice. "I'm a very good liar you wouldn't even question it." He took a deep breath before looking back up, stretching one of his legs and leaning against the wall. "At the ball, I tried to start something." He began, fidgeting with his hands. "I... This never happened to me, so I wasn't- I didn't know what I was doing, but I thought I was making it clear." He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "But when I left you—"

"You know I fancy you too, right?" I tilted my head, searching for his eyes. "As in, more than a one time thing."

"That I didn't know." I felt a pang of guilt, realizing that unconsciously I had played a big part on this.

FRED'S P. O. V.

We stayed in silence.

It wasn't an unsettling silence, but the air weighed over us due to the tension floating on it; I needed to defuse it, otherwise it would crush me.

My heart hammered against my chest while I extended my arm to hold her hand on mine.

It's not meant to be nerve-wracking, I thought to myself as I pulled her hand away from her lap; we had already made clear we fancied each other.

The moment she put her head on my shoulder, the tension completely dissipated. I didn't notice the sigh that left my lungs when it happened.

"Didn't put you, Fred Weasley, in the I'm-a-bundle-of-nerves-with-girls category."

"Oh, shut it." I threw my head back, laughing for the first time in a couple of weeks.

"Never." She gave my hand a squeeze and I allowed my cheek to rest over her crown. "You could, of course, find a way to shut me up."

It wasn't her words that cracked me up, but the suggestive tone she used, which took me back to that night in the Duelling Room when I accidentally let slip my feelings for her for the first time.

I raised my head from hers. "Beg your pardon?" I played the fool, trying to hide the ghost of a smile when she shoot me a wide-eyed look. "What are you insinuating, woman?"

"Do you really wanna start the teasing now?" She gave me a warning glare.

"You've just said you missed it." I couldn't hold back the chuckle.

"I knew I was gonna regret it." She groaned, throwing her head back. My eyes, finally on her, traveled to her now exposed neck and collarbone. Though they weren't visible, I could see the trail of kisses I had left there just a few weeks ago. "Stop staring and kiss me."

It didn't take anything else for me to throw the levitating burning paper away and tug her closer by her hand.

The moment our mouths met, I slipped my hand away from Y/n's so I could led her thighs to straddle my legs.

A quiet moan escaped my lips when she rolled her hips against mines; my hands automatically traveled up from her thighs to her waist, pulling her flush against me.

The temperature in the high, cold tower had shot up all from sudden. Just as we were about to start discarding clothes, quick steps were heard climbing up the stairs.

"Fuck!" She whisper-shouted, practically pushing me away as she got up. "Move, move, move!" As she helped me up and we ran to hide, it dawned on me that we were way past curfew. That got me moving.

We waited for Filch to get to the top of the tower before running down as fast as we could.

"No time for goodbyes!" she warned as we rushed through the vast hallways with Filch after us. "See you tomorrow—"

Before she could sprint downstairs to the dungeons, I grabbed her hand and pulled her into a side hall.

"You won't make it to the dungeons." I stated between pants, glancing at the path we had taken. I wasn't able to see the caretaker yet, but his pants could be heard. "Take the other stairs I'll distract him."

"You'll get grounded." She observed, her breathing as heavy as mine, if not more.

"Worth it." I curtly reply, feeling the corners of my lips twisting up.

"You know?" She pushed herself off the wall she had leaned against to catch her breath. "Sometimes you're really sweet."

"Quick!" I tugged on her hand, seeing Filch finally turn the corner. "Gimme a good luck kiss!"

She pulled me down and kissed my lips briefly before taking off in the other direction. I had to tell myself to shake off that stupid smile and run.

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

READER'S P. O. V.

The next morning I eagerly made my way to the Great Hall with two goals; having breakfast, of course, and checking if Fred had made it to his House without getting caught.

I soon spotted the group, this time sitting on the Slytherin table.

Soon his eyes found me too, and without saying a word to anyone, he got up and jogged to meet me halfway.

"Did you make it?" I asked, standing way too close to him and therefore attracting some nosey looks.

"By a whisker." He responded, taking a look around before looking back at me. "I was wondering if you'd like to go for a drink after class." I raised my eyebrows at him with a smirk. "We can use a passage to get to Hogsmade."

"Are you asking me on a proper date, Weasley?" I teased with my hands on my hips. "How cute."

He avoided eye contact, deciding to take another look around instead. "I swear if you tease me right now—"

"I'm free after four." I cut him off. "Now if you excuse me, I'm hungry." I passed him by, playfully bumping his shoulder, and made my way to our friends.

I didn't get far before his hands spun me around and cupped my cheeks, giving me a surprisingly deep kiss. "Are you gonna kill me?" He murmured, his lips still ghosting over mines.

"Oh, you know me so well." I replied, feeling my face heating up. We couldn't help but laugh when whistles and hollers came from behind me. "I might kill them too." I added, making fall into a fit of laughter as we pulled away in order to walk to where our friends sat. "I wanna have breakfast in peace." I warned them, sitting down with Fred by my side.

Everyone was giving looks at each other and trying to hold back the giggles, so I knew a comment was coming, but not from whom.

I could instantly tell I wasn't the only one shocked by the speaker. "But you just had him for breakfast." My best friend responded, faking confusion.

"I was just thinking about that!" Lee yelled, a bit too excited.

"Mathilda Foxglove—" I began, everyone cracking up.

"You are doomed." Fred finished, shoving a toast into his mouth to stop his laughter.

"It was worth it." She stated between giggles.

Fred gave me a side look with a half smile and I thanked Merlin no one could see the boy's fingers interlaced with mines under the table.

[jj-bxby]

if the world was ending ~ jj maybank song fic ✨100 special✨

summary - song fic inspired by ‘if the world was ending’ by jp saxe and julia michaels

gif by @toesure

word count - 4.0k

warnings - mentions of abuse and anxiety, angst!!, fluff

It was impossible to sleep. Hurricane Maggie was the biggest that Kildare had seen in years, and it was horrifying. Looking at your boarded-up windows, you passed a hand through your hair anxiously. You turned your focus back to the flashing television with warnings in bright colors filling the entirety of the display. Exhaling shakily, you turned on your phone. No new messages were shown and the screen soon flashed its “No Signal” warning. Shit.

It had been months since you and JJ decided to break up, and ever since you two had been slowly drifting apart. Even though your separation was technically mutual, it wasn’t. Breaking up with the boy was the last thing you wanted to do, but he thought it was best for both of you. After a year of being together, he still had a difficult time telling you about the mottled bruises on his body that you knew weren’t from biking accidents, about the nightmares he’d have that woke him up at night, about the way he would flinch when you moved too quickly. After hours of tear-filled argument with JJ, you two spent your last night in the same bed, and he was out of your house the next day. Despite still being friendly with the pogues, you didn’t show up to their parties or lake days as much. Seeing JJ flirt with other girls, even if it was 50 yards away from you, still felt like a knife in your heart. And him locking eyes with you during it was just twisting the knife.

JJ wasn’t your JJ anymore. And you weren’t his Y/N. Even though you hadn’t spoken in weeks, you couldn’t think of anything but him when the sirens began blaring. JJ loved to surf the amazing waves that hurricanes would create, and you doubted that Maggie’s waves would be any different. It made your breath catch in your throat when you thought of him out drinking alone, him surfing the hurricane, or, God forbid, him being stuck in his house for the duration of the storm. You felt tears prick at your eyes, knowing that he didn’t have any reason to tell you where he was or that he was safe anymore. Everyone knew Maggie would do damage, especially on The Cut, and your home was right in the danger zone. You could have stayed at Kiara’s place, but you wouldn’t have felt any safer there than you would have at home, alone. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about what happened to your house. It was a house, it can be fixed up or replaced. You laid back down on your bed, closing your eyes as all of the most dangerous scenarios your brain could conjure up flashed behind your eyes. JJ being sucked under by the surge, your home collapsing on you, JJ caught in the exposed wiring, everything scared you. You had no right to him anymore. But goddamnit, the entire fucking island was in panic mode, why couldn’t he just tell you that he was okay? Tears spilled down your cheeks as you maneuvered to settle your body under the covers, the sound of rain pelting against all sides of your home echoing through the room. You could hear one of your windows shatter, and you shut your eyes tightly. You were trying to picture being anywhere else, and what you pictured was JJ’s arms around you, holding you tightly against him while he set his head on your shoulder. It felt shameful to think of JJ as your safe haven when you hadn’t been in his arms in months, but it was the only thing calming you enough to steady your breathing as you choked back sobs.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, JJ still held your heart fully in his hands. And right now, he was squeezing it tighter and tighter, the hole in your chest growing larger by the minute. You had thought that whatever tether attached you to him would be cut once he left you that day, but it just kept pulling. It was tighter than ever now, and the feeling of it pulling your soul from your body grew stronger the longer you stayed away from him, and it was cruel. The feeling made the whole of your body ache — Your head hurt, your chest felt tight, your legs were weak, and your arms were vacant and they pulsed with pain. It was unbearable.

The throbbing in your head worsened as something was flung against your front door. You sat up as the noise came again, even though it startled you, you knew it was likely a tree that fell. You got up to pad down the hall to your open kitchen as sleep evaded you. Trying to flick the lights on was no use, there was no power. Sighing, you grabbed a bottle of water from the counter and cracked it open. There was no alcohol in your house, as much as you truly wanted some right now. You’d given up drinking after splitting with JJ. It would have been to easy to swallow down all of the hurt, and not feeling it would have only been worse. As you walked to your couch to grab a blanket, your door swung open. JJ was standing there, sopping wet. You could see that a mixture of tears and rain stained his cheeks, his red and swollen eyes giving him away.

“Y/N,” JJ whispered, shutting the door behind him. His blue eyes contrasted the redness starkly, and they pierced through me. “I don’t… I was gonna surf the hurricane but I know you would’ve never forgiven me,” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “And I just — I sat in my room and the only thing I could think of was if you were alone. I know you aren’t mine anymore, I know I fucked that up. But I couldn’t stand thinking of you staying here alone.”

You didn’t know what to say. You’d been wanting him back for six months, and now he shows up at your doorstep at two in the morning. In the middle of a hurricane. Dripping wet. You didn’t say anything, you just walked towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him against you while you buried your head in his chest. You half expected him to push you off of him, but instead, he rested his chin on the top of your head before dropping it down to your shoulders. His arms quickly looped around you to hold you just as tightly while hot tears rolled down his face.

“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He said, in between his hiccups and sobs. He wasn’t drunk for once. He was just so tired of fucking up, and he couldn’t handle it anymore.

You’d never seen him like this. He never let you. But now, JJ was breaking down in your arms, and he was trusting you fully. You were the one holding his heart, and he didn’t want it back.

“Shh, J. You’re alright.” You told him, fighting back the tears that welled in your eyes. You pulled back from him just enough to look at his face. “You’re gonna be freezing if you stay in these clothes. You need a shower and something dry to wear, okay?” He nodded sluggishly. “Here, come with me.”

You led JJ to your room and had him wait as you dug around in your closet to find the box of clothes JJ had kept at your place for the nights he stayed over. You debated tossing them out when you found them a couple of weeks after he left, but couldn’t bring yourself to part with them. Instead, you would find yourself digging out his Kildare sweatshirt to wear when you missed him, and his gym shorts to sleep in when it was one of your sleepless nights. Eventually, the clothes lost his scent and stopped being something consolatory. Instead, they became a source of resentment, but no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself to throw them out, they always wound up right back in the corner of your closet. You walked out with the bin, placing it on the bed and rifling through it to find something warm for him, finally settling on sweatpants and a worn Kildare tee.

“I can’t believe you kept those. I always figured you would have burned them or something,” JJ mumbled as he walked up beside you.

“I thought about it,” you said plainly. “I was gonna have ‘Somebody That I Used To Know’ playing and everything.” JJ smiled slightly, knowing you were still half-serious. You tilted your head to look at him and sighed. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and he definitely smelled like malt. You sighed because you knew exactly how little you could trust him in the shower while drunk. Usually, after keggers, you and your boyfriend would shower together so that you could keep an eye on him, as you were usually the soberest between the two of you. You’d wash him as you dodged his kisses, giggling at how lovey he was. JJ had fallen before, the dumbass, so you didn’t want him in there alone, but being alone with him was also the last thing you wanted.

“JJ?” He hummed slightly, swaying. “You aren’t sober enough to shower by yourself are you?”

JJ’s eyes widened at you and his cheeks heated up. He shook his head, knowing damn well that he would fail a sobriety test before it even started. “I mean, I could probably do it or just go without—”

“Nope, you’re swaying just standing here, and you smell like a distillery, J. C’mon.” You start off to your bathroom while JJ trails closely behind. Once you’re in, you turn on the showerhead to let it warm up. You turn around to find JJ with his shirt already off and grabbing a towel from your cupboard, handing you one. “What’s this for?”

He looks at his outstretched arm with confusion. “Shower. We’re gonna shower, right?” He says to you, tilting his head. Goddamnit, he always was a cute drunk.

“J, you’re gonna shower, I’m gonna stay out here.”

“Oh. That’s right.” He sets your towel down on the ceramic of the sink. “So, like... are you gonna let me get undressed now?” You smiled to yourself at how flustered JJ was, and you knew it wasn’t just the booze in his system.

“We dated for a year, JJ, I’ve seen you naked plenty of times,” you say as you hopped up on the sink, dangling your legs off of the edge. You crossed your arms over your chest as the blonde nodded to you before he stripped down to only his boxers. As he walked to check the temperature of the shower you saw the bruises and scars that littered his back, sides, and chest, and you winced. He looked back at you, noticing the look on your face.

“Not used to seeing them anymore, I guess, huh?” He asked quietly. You shook your head at him, tearing your gaze away from the bruises to meet his eyes. “You sure you don’t wanna join me?”

You gulped, shifting your eyes off of him. Honestly, a large part of you wanted to follow him in there and have it be like it was months ago. The other part of you, though, still hurt just thinking of him and burned with rage at the thought of acting as though nothing had happened. “Don’t tempt me, Maybank,” you said quietly while averting your gaze. He nodded softly and pulled off his boxers before stepping in to take his shower. Setting your head in your hands, you exhaled harshly. You were trying to puff out all of your confusion and hurt, and inhaled confidence.

Before you realized what you were doing, you had stripped down to nothing and stepped inside of your shower to join JJ, making him jump slightly when he heard the curtains being pulled.

“Y/N you don’t have to do this, okay? What the hell are you doing?”

“Just let me be here with you JJ, alright? Just let me be happy for a minute. You at least owe me that,” you murmured, pushing his damp hair away from his eyes. The boy nodded at you, his eyes shining brightly as always.

“I owe you way more than that, actually.” You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight you’d been dreaming of for the past hundred-and-some days. Once your eyes trailed back to meet JJ’s, you turned around to grab the soaps you kept on the shower shelf. Opening one up, you tell JJ to give him your hands before you pour some of the suds into his open palms.

“They haven’t changed since I left,” he says while lathering the soap on to himself. JJ would always use your shampoos and body washes when he stayed over, liking the sweet scent of your soaps rather than the sandalwood option you had purchased for him. You did get rid of that soap, it was about the only thing of his you could bring yourself to throw out. Probably because it wasn’t really his.

You nodded, also scrubbing some of the soap into your hair. He reached out to wipe away some of the suds that were making their way towards your eyes, and it made you grin. JJ dipped his head under the stream of water to wash away the bubbles in his hair before shaking it out. You two did a little swap of places so that you were able to do the same, rinsing the shampoo out before working conditioner into your hair, and twisting it up into a bun. Turning your head to look for the body wash, you see JJ has already grabbed it and poured some out onto a washcloth. He had that damned boyish look in his eye that he always used to have when the two of you were alone together.

Stepping behind you, JJ murmurs into your ear. “I know I owe you for a lot of shit things I did, but can I start with this?” He slid the soapy rag over your stomach, resting it there to wait for your response.

Your head was spinning, and you felt like you were the intoxicated one now. Without thinking, you nodded your head, relaxing your muscles as JJ smoothly moved the rag along the curves of your body. You rested your back against his chest lightly, enjoying the familiar feeling. You could feel JJ’s warm breath against your neck as he washed you, and the realization that this was the most intimate feeling you’d had in months slowly sunk in. You turned your head to look at JJ — He had his lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes shifted to your own. He knew that lip thing was always a turn on for you, even though he wasn’t doing it intentionally this time.

“You okay with this?” He asked with worried eyes, taking his hands off of you.

“Yes, yeah, I’m okay, J. I just missed this,” you sighed, passing a hand over your face. “I missed this more than I thought I did.” You looked away from him, wishing he didn’t move his hands away. “Look, I just don’t want to do this shit and then get hurt again, JJ. You know I loved you, I know you loved me, so why did you leave?”

“Y/N,” he said softly, tilting your head up to look at him. “You’re right, I loved you. I still do. But when I broke up with you, I did it because I was scared. I was scared I’d turn into my father, scared that I didn’t deserve you, scared I’d try and hide things from you like I do with my father,” JJ sighed. “I’m sorry I was so stupid, and I’m sorry that I hurt you. I thought I was doing it because I loved you, and I was saving you from myself. But I was just hurting you. I’m not Luke,” he said while shaking his head, “I won’t let myself be like him. I wouldn’t hurt you, I wouldn’t even think of it. I was running from you because I didn’t think I deserved you. I didn’t believe I deserved you loving me so damn much.” JJ had tears shining in his eyes that matched your own.

“JJ, I sat in my room for months crying over you. I was panicking that you’d be trapped with Luke tonight, I wanted to go find you. I was terrified when you didn’t even say that you were okay,” you whispered, tears tracking down your cheeks. “God, when you came through that door I didn’t know if I was angry or happy. I still love being in your arms, but it makes me so angry to be held by you. I still fucking love you, even though I tried not to.”

Tears slipped out from JJ’s red eyes as he ran his hands through his wet hair. “I still love you too, Y/N. I never stopped. I don’t expect you to take me back — hell, I'd be shocked if you did — but if you want to try again, I want to, too. I want to be better for you.”

You wiped at your eyes, not knowing which drops were from the shower, or which were from your salty tears. You didn’t want to be hurt again, but you knew your heart wouldn’t be whole again unless you were with JJ. You knew he wasn’t Luke. You knew because JJ kissed you sweetly, he talked to you lovingly anytime he got the chance, he held you when your mind was out of control, and he never got angry with you. Of course, you two had had your arguments — but you worked them out together, both of you listening to the other’s concerns and talking out solutions.

“Of course I want you back, JJ.” You shook your head at him and turned the shower off. “But we’re not going to be back at the same place we ended. I have to know I can trust you again. You know that, right?”

JJ nodded at you, sniffling quietly. “I can do that... I can do that, Y/N.” He followed you onto the tiled floor, standing as water dripped off of him with quiet thuds. While you wrapped a towel around yourself and grabbed the other JJ pulled on his sweatpants. You walked over to the boy and draped the towel around his shoulders as he thanked you. JJ gazed adoringly at you, enamored by everything about you. The curve of your lips, the way strands of your hair were pasted to your forehead, the flecks of different colors within your y/e/c irises. He loved the mundane things he could do with you, and he loved the fact that you didn’t step back from him even more.

You cocked your eyebrow at JJ when you notice his staring. His eyes were focused on your lips, and he dipped his head down to level with your own. Your heart fluttered rapidly as your lips met, and it felt like your heart would beat directly out of your chest. His hand slid to cup your cheek, and yours moved to his shoulders. The only thing that mattered to you was JJ’s mouth on yours, and the throbbing pain inside of your head and throughout your body was replaced with a floating feeling. No more pain, just the warmth of JJ’s body enveloping your own. The kiss was soft and effortless — hypnotic, even — and the connection of your lips was reforming the burned bridge that linked you. The sweet scent of your skin made JJ grin and the velvety feel of your skin against his rough fingertips felt familiar; It was everything that he’d been craving for the last few months.

As he swiped his tongue across your lip, you pulled back to rest your forehead against his. His eyes were glittering like ice, as always. The intimacy of the moment felt so perfect, you didn’t want to say anything to ruin it, but you hadn’t gotten any rest all night, and you doubt JJ had either. “JJ, let’s lay down, okay?”

He hummed to you, his grin not faltering. He knew nothing more than kissing would happen tonight, but the thought of just sleeping in the same bed as you made him fidgety. JJ played with the strings on his sweatpants as he waited for you to finish getting dressed, having pulled on his shirt in the meantime. When you called for him to come out to your room he grinned, seeing you sitting on your bed while wearing one of the old tee’s he had left for you. You patted the space on the bed next to you for JJ to lay down with you. Once he walked over and slid under the covers with you, you both laid on your sides to look at each other. You reached for his hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he inspected your small hand enveloped in his.

“You never took that ring off, either,” he mumbled. The cold metal of the ring pressed against your skin, the one with JJ’s initials engraved in it that he had given you for one of your small anniversaries. You saw his matching one on his finger, the black metal had your own initials carved in. You let your gaze fall back on his face, seeing for the first time how tired his eyes were and the darkness underneath them.

“It's weird to lay like this, isn't it?” You asked with a small laugh, dropping JJ’s hand as he cracked a smile and shook his head. He would have slept on a pile of rocks if it meant that he would be close to you. You jumped as the thunder cracked violently and lightning illuminated the room. JJ opened his arms and you crawled over to him, his arms encircling you to hold you against him. Resting your head against his heart, you felt JJ press his lips against your hair and a wave of warmth washed over the both of you.

“I remember just how much you hated storms. I know you could never sleep when they happened,” JJ mumbled to you while tilting his head back to look at your figure, completely relaxed against him in the darkness. You opted to set your chin on his chest to meet his eyes. “Are you glad I came tonight? Or do you hate me even more, now?”

Even in the shadow of midnight, you could still see the sparkle of JJ’s eyes and the outline of his angular cheeks. His eyes searched yours in the second of silence before your response. “I’m so incredibly happy you came, J.” You moved almost imperceptibly, positioning yourself so that your face was slightly above JJ’s while his hands shifted from their previous position down to lay on your hips. You slid your fingertips along his jaw and lowered your lips to meet his as your eyes fluttered closed. JJ kissed you delicately, his lips sliding like velvet against your own. Your hand slid to the back of his head to tangle itself into his golden locks, his lips parting as you did. Butterflies erupted in JJ’s stomach and heat rose to his cheeks — it felt like the first time you had ever kissed him, and his head was dizzy from desire. The two of you laid like that for hours, your mouths moving together carefully, both of you entranced by one another yet again.

Finally, with JJ’s hand locked in yours, your world has stopped crumbling beneath your feet.

~tagging some moots~

@starlightstarkey @starksweasleymain @softstarkey @drewswannabegirl @shawnssongs @hmspxgue @livinglikepogues @jjsredhat @jjsbxtch @jjsmaybcnk @topperthorntons @obx-direction-sos @aesthetic-lyss @jiaraendgame

[sepublic]

Now What?

           Seriously. For Lilith, this is an obvious question… She rejected Belos and the Coven System, although it was mostly on Belos’ side that this happened; Her original intention was to keep working for him, because clearly executing Eda was just a one-time lapse in judgment, especially when one sees all of the OTHER good things he did?

           She’s at the Owl House. She’s a Wanted Criminal, and her magic is now weaker. Eda knows the truth, but at the same time it feels like they’re closer than they’ve been beforehand? Closer to that bond from childhood, even if they’ll never get it back? So what does Lilith do, does she… Does she try to rekindle? Does she respect Eda’s boundaries? Will she still stay at the Owl House regardless because where else can she go, or does she go off to do some of her own soul-searching?

           For Luz and Eda, this question is a bit more obvious, even if not fully-answered; That it’s time for Luz to be the teacher again, to help her surrogate mother get around her disability, to teach her glyphs… For Eda, there’s also the question of how she’ll continue to live life, now that she’s so much weaker and struggling with a new method of magic!

           Not to mention, the revolution… Willow and Gus helped spark one, a proper form of backlash against Belos’ reign… That they helped bring about rebellion before Belos could truly solidify and legitimize his rule. That no, it’s not over, it was NEVER over, there was always a fighting chance- And it’s a refreshing take for the rebellion to take place when the dictatorship is still in that infancy stage, where it DID take over, but there’s still bold memories of what it was like beforehand and so people can operate on that! To have explored how the cultural memory of the past was always still there and intact, that people could be swayed either way at this crucial juncture, and now they are!

           But where to go, for those who rebelled? Do they start actively fighting back against the Emperor’s Coven? Do protests, spread awareness… Work on legislation to keep Belos from increasing his power? Do some outright abandon the Coven System and go into hiding? Do they go to Eda the Owl Lady for guidance, and how will they react to see that she hasn’t gotten her magic back; Assuming anybody even thought she did, given the last they saw was of her mostly-cursed!

           What does Amity do now? Her mentor, no doubt the most positive influence when it came towards the Emperor’s Coven and any support and belief in it, someone so CLEARLY enamored by its ideals to the point where she was entrusted as a literal posterchild (er, adult) for the EC? Amity may have called Lilith ‘Mom’ in the past, but she could’ve also had mixed feelings regarding the Covention Incident, and rightfully so. What does it say that this person she probably felt safer around than her own parents (not that this was hard) has so blatantly rejected the Emperor’s Coven?

           Will she try to rationalize it (no doubt with influence from her own parents) that it was Lilithwho was rejected, for being of morally-weak fiber… And that this TECHNICALLY isn’t entirely wrong, that indeed Belos cast her out and that Lilith hadn’t made the active choice to defy him completely, just his particular decision on Eda. For Lilith, she has to deal with the fact that she’s no longer welcome there. For Amity, how does she feel?

           She saw what Belos and Kikimora planned to do to Eda. She knows that Luz loves the Owl Lady, that she’s felt more safe and welcomed in this stranger’s home than in her own house… And Amity loves Luz more than she fears anything else, Grometheus taught her that much at least! Luz is no doubt going to defy the Coven System, so now what? What does Amity do, will she simply stand by and anxiously wait to see what Luz does, crossing her fingers that it’s nothing too drastic or confrontational, that there’s still room for negotiation?

Or will she have to accept, from a precarious position as an abused and indoctrinated child, that the Coven System is seen as wholly negative by Luz… Especially since if Bump is any indication, there HAS been formalized education prior to Belos; So even the benefits of formalized education aren’t necessarily intertwined with the Coven System, either! What will her parents have to say, seeing that the person they trusted to tutor their own daughter threw it all away for Eda, who they saw as kids transform into a monster as if by some cruel karmic fate for defying Belos’ order?

Will the Blight Parents focus on making sure Amity is EXTRA obedient, (rightfully) afraid that Lilith has had her influence on Amity? What do Emira and Edric do, do they consider outright leaving Blight Manor as abuse worsens? Taking their little sister with them? Because there’s also doubt left, now that Eda is so much weaker in terms of magical ability, about whether or not the rebellion can succeed(regardless of whether or not it has moral standing).

What of Gus and his father, Perry? What does Perry do, does he try to be a neutral party and bystander? Or does his kid’s act of defiance enable Perry to do the right thing, to actively start working on exposing Belos’ corruption, to truly embrace the freedom of the press! Not to mention, Principal Bump… OBVIOUSLY he’s going to be supporting the revolution in his own way, I wouldn’t be shocked if he was flipping off Belos while the dude wasn’t looking; But at the same time, he’s got a student body to take care of!

Luckily for Bump at least, Belos’ power hadn’t been totally solidified; That it was still technically legal for him to allow stuff like multi-track learning, even if supposedly students would still graduate within only one coven! But after seeing some of his own students make a stand, after seeing how he failed people like Eda in the past… How is Bump going to approach things? Will he actively work with people like The Librarian, to educate students more on the ACTUAL history of the Boiling Isles? Because if those kids get hurt then Bump WILL feel liable, especially if he helped encourage their rebellion, or simply didn’t do much to quell it…

This episode had… SO many ripple-effects! Such a powerful chain-reaction, its own legacy that’s touched just about everyone in the Boiling Isles! There’s no avoiding this, it’s like everyone’s infected, there’s no ignoring what went on in the Conformatorium! Especially with the knowledge that Belos can be wounded, and likely by a mere human no less…! It wasn’t just the main cast’s status quo that changed here, it was the status quo for EVERYTHING and everyone…

Where to go? What direction or path to take? So many potential options and destinies to go from here. It’s an uneasy decision, all right. There was a victory, but it’s also a bit bittersweet, tinged with an undertone of uncertainty, because- Now what?

(At least BELOS seems to know what do… At least I thinkhe does, maybe he’s also confused too!)

And from a meta perspective, this is a question I’m asking myself! I barely handled the Mid-Season hiatus… Coupled with complications of the epidemic, and the wait between Seasons 1 and 2 will no doubt be PAINFUL and arduous! So, now what? What do I, do I just keep doing as I always do, until I likely run out of steam, and wait for new content to invigorate me? Do I just keep acting like I always have, as if there’s just a REALLY long wait for a new episode, but otherwise it’s just the same?

What does the fandom do? How do we speculate, how do we produce content? Where do we go from here? It’s all so infectiously melancholic, like there’s confusion and uncertainty but a glimmer of hope at the very end, that SOMETHING will be figured out in the end, right? So…

Now what?

[cpd5021]

Gone Part Two

Part Two! This one is definitely full of angst and will probably tug at the heartstrings a little. There is slightly nondescriptive mention of sexual assualt/rape, just FYI. If that’s something that triggers you then skip the last few paragraphs of this story. Thanks again to everyone who commented on this or sent me feedback! I might add one more chapter to this, but nothing for sure yet. Rated T/M

Hailey’s POV

Cold. That’s all I could feel. Every inch of my body, everything I could feel surrounding me was cold. The only thing that didn’t feel like ice was the burning within me. My wrists burned above me and I knew it was from the handcuffs holding me in place, restraining my arms above my head to some unknown object. My chest burned with each breath, like tiny icicles scraping down my chest. My stomach ached down to its core and I vaguely recalled the blows I had taken there. My face burned, a mix of raw skin from the tears I had shed mixed with the wind burn spreading across my cheeks. I tried to move but my body wouldn’t cooperate. I tried to open my eyes but they seemed permanently shut, the darkness they provided only making me feel more trapped. It was like I was a prisoner in my own body. I could feel everything, I was fully aware, but I just couldn’t move. I knew I was outside, that much was clear. But everything else was a blur. I couldn’t remember anything after this morning...was it this morning? I was starting to lose track. I had woken up with a start, the eerie feeling that someone was watching me in the darkness of my room. I had tried to shake it off but the feeling only worsened. I had reached for my nightstand, flicking the switch on and encasing the room in a dim light. I screamed when I saw a man in the corner of the room and instantly reached for my gun on the table beside me. Except my hand hit an empty surface and when I looked closer I could see the man held my gun and was pointing it at me. I had debated my options, realizing I didn’t have many and decided on trying to talk him down. That hadn’t worked and had only angered him, resulting in my mirror getting shattered. He had lurched across my bed then, striking my head with the but end of my weapon and the world went black. The events from that moment to this one were a blur. I was pretty confident he had drugged me with something but I wasn’t sure what. My head spun and my stomach held a queasy feeling, although that could have been from the head injury as well. I refocused on the present, once again trying to open my eyes or move to no avail. I felt a sob rise up in my chest, one filled with hopelessness, but if it escaped my lips I couldn’t hear it. Instead I felt the coldness creep back to the forefront, the stinging in my wrists worsening with every passing second. My right arm had a dull ache and I was sure my shoulder was dislocated, making my current position feel even better. I wanted to scream, I wanted to shout for someone to help me, but I couldn’t. I was completely incompacitated. Except I was fully aware of it all. I laid here a little longer and started to wonder if I was even still alive. Maybe this was it, maybe this is what death felt like. Total darkness and an inability to escape your own body. If this wasn’t purgatory it sure as hell felt like it...no pun intended. I focused on my breathing, each inhale sending a searing burn through my chest, and tried to stay awake. After a while longer though, I started to question why I was even bothering. No one was here, no one could hear me or help me, I couldn’t do anything to help myself...so why bother?

I let myself drift off, trying to think of happy thoughts because that seemed like my best option at this point. If I was dying, or even already dead, I might as well be happy about it. I thought about the last few months, of Vanessa and the friendship we had formed. She was a stray but she had managed to widdle her way into all our hearts and I knew we wouldn’t be the same without her. I thought of Adam and Kim, of what they had lost, and my heart ached for them. I thought of Kevin and the war he was facing, it wasn’t one I could ever fully understand but I had his back one hundred percent of the way. I thought of Voight, and the turbulence our relationship had experienced as of late. I had been angry at him for a long time, but eventually I realized what he had done was exactly what I needed and I wished I could thank him for it. And then there was Jay. If I was able to control my body at all, I would have smiled at the thought of him. He was a mess half of the time and got himself into more shitty situations then should be humanly possible, but it was only because of his heart. He was a good person. He was my person. I focused on his smile as I felt the coldness envelop me once again, a new wave of discomfort penetrating the numbness. This time, instead of fighting to stay awake, I willed the unconsciousness to take over me. I wanted this to end, I had had enough. Just as the darkness around me started to turn darker still, I heard something in the distance. A voice. It took everything in me to try and focus, to hope that I would hear it again. I could only hope that it was help. But then, there was nothing. 

I came too again and the voices were louder this time. I tried to open my eyes and see who was above me but they still refused to cooperate. The frustration boiled meekly inside of me as I felt my will to fight starting to dissolve. 

“She’s over here!”

Someone yelled. Was that Adam? I couldn’t be sure. 

“Oh my god…”

Voight. I would recognize that voice anywhere. I felt a wave of relief wash over me as I realized they had found me. I still wasn’t convinced I was alive, but at least I wasn’t alone. I felt hands touching my body then, I wanted to flinch, to pull away from the pain they caused when they gripped particularly painful spots, but I couldn’t. Fingers were at my neck then, presumably searching for a pulse. They must have found one because I didn’t hear any more panic ensue around me. Now someone was working on freeing my wrists and internally I was screaming, my shoulder burned and the skin on my wrists felt so raw I was sure they were bleeding. 

“She’s barely breathing.”

The other person spoke again and I was almost certain it was Adam. I focused on his words and made the effort to take a breath, wincing at the burn it caused. I could hear them talking again but I couldn’t make out what was being said. Suddenly, strong arms slid under my shoulders and scooped my legs up. I was too disoriented from the darkness I was trapped in to be sure, but I was pretty confident I was being carried somewhere. I wanted to tell Adam to put me down, that this was ridiculous and I could walk wherever we were going, but I simply couldn’t. The arms underneath me shifted, sending another wave of pain through my body and then I was laying flat. A somewhat soft surface under me now as my body protested the new position. I felt a few bumps and heard something slam nearby, maybe a door closing. Unfamiliar voices surrounded me and I panicked at the thought before I realized I was on a cot and probably in the back of an ambulance. Hands were all over my body, pushing and pressing against my chest and shoulder area, another set working up my legs. I realized in horror that someone was cutting my clothes off and I wanted to plead with them to stop. I was so cold and the newly exposed skin was only making it worse. I panicked again and my chest felt tight. I tried to bring in a breath of air but even that seemed to stop working and my chest burned for the oxygen I was lacking. Something covered my face and I tried to dodge it but again, my body didn’t move. It was only when a rush of air hit my lungs that the panic began to ease. I couldn’t breath myself so someone was doing it for me. A sudden warmth encased me and the light pressure of blankets being draped over me made my body tremble. I was still frozen to the core but the warmth was a nice distraction. More unfamiliar voices were talking over me then but I couldn’t focus on what they were saying. There was a lurch and then it felt as if we were moving. A siren wailed in the near distance and it made my head throb in protest. I could feel hands back on my body, this time pressing against the skin of my arm. I wanted to scream out in pain as my shoulder was jostled around. Something cool and wet went across my forearm before that sensation was replaced with a sharp but quick stab. I would have protested that too if I could have but then a warmth began to travel up my arm, coursing through my body and finally easing just a little of the cold feeling. Another mumbled voice sounded above me but I couldn’t focus on that. Instead, I focused on the new warmth in my good arm, stemming from my hand which was now being held in someone else's. Their hand was so warm, a stark contrast to my icy cold one I’m sure. Their thumb pressed into my palm, rubbing smooth circles against the skin there and the warmth in my hand grew. I wanted to open my eyes, to see who it was, but it was no use. I let the hand holding mine lull me into the first sense of peace I had felt during this whole situation and felt myself begin to slip into an unconsciousness. 

I woke again, this time with more voices talking above me. They were louder this time, more panicked. I could tell I was still on the ambulance cot but we must be inside the hospital now. I hated this feeling of being so disoriented but the warm hand still held mine and that’s what kept me grounded. The voices above me were a blur, I couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

“I’m not leaving her.”

The statement was accompanied by a gentle squeeze of my hand and suddenly I felt the urge to scream again. Jay, the voice and the hand belonged to Jay. I wanted more than ever to open my eyes, to do something to let him know I was okay. I tried with everything I had left inside of me to yell out his name but all I was capable of was silence. It wasn’t enough and suddenly the hand was gone. I wanted to cry, in fact, I’m pretty sure I was. 

Don’t leave me Jay. Please don’t leave me.

Words that I was yelling on the inside, yet were trapped in the darkness, just like I was. I felt a jostling and suddenly I was airborne. Only for a second before I was laid back down on a different bed. This new surface was colder and firmer, sending more pain coursing through my body. New hands were on my body and I tried to scream for them to stop. Someone pressed on my shoulder and my body fought to arch away from the searing pain. Another set of hands pressed against my abdomen and I thought I was going to be sick. I felt my legs being pushed apart then and everything inside me was on fire. How dare they do this when I was useless to fight back. I willed my eyes to open, my body to fight them off, but again it was of no use. I tried to listen to the conversation above me but it was only bits and pieces. 

“There’s definite signs of trauma here, I’m just not sure to what extent. We’ll need to do a kit, just in case.”

Well of course there’s trauma, I didn’t need to be a doctor to tell you that. But my body froze up when I put two and two together and realized just what type of trauma they were referring to. No. No no no. That couldn’t be. Surely I would remember that...wouldn’t I? I willed the unconsciousness to take me once again, wanting to block out anything else that was about to happen. 

******

The beeping noise filling the space around me was enough to drive me insane. I came too once again, wondering how long I had been out. I was in a different bed once again, this one much softer and warmer. I could feel the weight of multiple blankets on top of me and was thankful for the warmth, although it was doing little to the ice cold feeling that was deep in my core. I felt a familiar sensation in my hand and realized someone was rubbing circles in my palm once again. Jay was back. I felt my heart beat just a little faster at the thought and wished that I could see his face. I willed my eyes to open and suddenly a bright light assaulted them, making me instantly shut them again. I opened them again, slowly this time so they could adjust to the light and felt a rush of emotion crash over me when I realized I could actually see again. I blinked a few times before my eyes took in the room around me. I was obviously in a hospital room, the beeping was coming from the machine connected to my arm through the IV and Jay sat beside me, his hand holding mine and a look of relief washing over his face when he met my eyes. 

“Thank god…”

He whispered and I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear him. I stared into his eyes, relishing in the bright green color they held. Something about thinking I would never see them again making me never want to look away. After a moment though, I shifted my stare away, thinking that the intensity of my gaze was probably making him uncomfortable. I wanted to speak, to say something to him so he would know I was okay, but my throat was tight and burned when I tried. 

“Shh, just rest. It’s okay.”

His hand squeezed mine and I was able to return the gesture, watching a smile creep onto his face at the exchange. 

“Jay…” I croaked out. My voice was harsh and raw and I shook my head at the sound. 

“I’m right here. You’re okay Hailey.”

While I wasn’t sure the last part of that was true, I was glad for the sentiment. I sent him a smile that I hoped was reassuring and shifted my head against the pillow, feeling my eyes start to flutter closed. 

Again with the beeping, how was anyone supposed to sleep. This time when I opened my eyes, the room was darker and I could tell night had fallen. The only light in the room was coming from the dim bar light above the sink in the corner of the room. I looked over and saw that Jay was still right next to me, looking more run down than before but still awake and smiling at me. 

“How are you feeling?”

He asked quietly, leaning forward to hear my response. 

“Is that a trick question?” 

I teased back in a hoarse voice, earning myself a smile from him.

“I see your sarcasm went unphased.”

He smiled again and the twinkle in his eye made me feel like home. 

“You don’t have to stay.”

While I was beyond grateful he was here and I really didn’t want him to go, I wanted to let him off the hook...just in case. He scoffed at my words before sending me another small smile. 

“Hailey...I...I’m not leaving you.”

His response came out choppy and there was some emotion coursing behind them that I couldn’t identify. I was happy he was staying and definitely wasn’t going to fight him on it. 

“Thank you.”

I told him. For more than just staying here with me, but I knew I didn’t need to say anything else, he would know what I meant. 

“Anytime. Although, if you could never do this again… that would be great.”

His tone was light and teasing as he danced over the heavy topic that this situation was. 

“Kinda sucks when your partner goes missing, doesn’t it?”

I teased back, causing him to shake his head. 

“I guess I deserved that. But yeah, it really does.”

He smiled back at me but something had shifted in his eyes. I wanted to question him on it but couldn’t bring myself to do it. 

“How are you feeling, like really feeling?”

He asked, tone shifting to a more serious one. I let out a sigh, wincing at the pain that caused and pondered my answer. 

“Okay…well, everything hurts. And I’m so cold. But at least I’m alive.” 

I sent him a sheepish grin, not wanting to worry him with the thoughts floating around my head. Unfortunately, he saw right through me. I watched as he seemed to debate how much he wanted to push the issue, remaining silent while I waited. 

“Hailey...I thought you were dead.”

He finally spoke, his words barely above a whisper. 

“So did I.”

I admitted, letting out a sigh as the events started replaying in my head. 

“It was awful...like, I was awake….but trapped....if that makes sense.”

My words were choppy and I struggled to express myself.

“I understand. I’m sorry you went through all this. I should have…”

He trailed off and I turned my head to look at him. How could he possibly be blaming himself for this? It wasn’t like it was a case gone wrong, it had happened in my time off. There’s no way he could have prevented it.

“Jay, don’t do that...none of this is your fault.”

I reached my hand over to brush against his arm and he sent me a half smile, his eyes still holding a sadness to them. 

“I could have been there or something…”

He trailed off again, hanging his head.

“Jay I was asleep. It was 6 o’clock in the morning. This isn’t on you.”

I tried to reason with him to no avail. This was part of what made Jay, Jay. His heart was pure and he would do anything to protect his people. I smiled slightly at the thought that I was one of his people, the idea making some happiness bubble up inside me. 

“I should have found you sooner and maybe then…”

His eyes met mine as his words faded away, almost as if he was asking me a question he couldn’t say out loud. When I did say anything in return he took a breath and looked at me again, the sad look back in his eyes. 

“Hailey...what all do you remember?”

I took my own deep breath as I forced myself to recall the events. Most of it was a blur, only a few key events standing out. The guy in my room, bits of the drive shoved in his truck, a small room in what I think was a cabin, and then nothing but the coldness that still lingered in my bones. I looked over at him and his eyes were searching mine, looking for something specific. 

“Just bits and pieces really...I don’t remember getting all these injuries, which I suppose is a good thing.”

There was one thing I remembered from the time I was unconscious but awake and that was the conversation the doctors had had when they first evaluated me. I had blacked out when I realized what they were talking about and still didn’t know the outcome. I wanted to ask, to know for sure, but then there was a part of me that didn’t want to know at all. I swallowed hard as a rush of emotion washed over me and suddenly I was blinking back tears. Jay scooted his chair closer, moving his hand to lay over mine once again. This was apparently the new thing between us and to be honest, I liked it more than I probably should. I used my free hand to wipe away the moisture from my eyes and let out a shaky breath before looking at him again. 

“Sorry…”

I mumbled, suddenly embarrassed over my show of emotion.

“Don’t be.”

He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and sent me a small smile. 

“Did they say anything to you...the doctors I mean?”

Part of me hoped they hadn’t, I didn’t want Jay to worry any more than he already was and if he knew everything already I wouldn’t be able to downplay it. But another part of me hoped they had so that way Jay would be able to understand without me having to say anything. I met his eyes again and there was a hesitation on his face that had me worried. 

“They gave me a run down.”

His reply was short and I knew he was holding something back. 

“Jay…”

I pushed, letting him know I wasn’t going to give up. If there was something he knew then I needed to know it too. And from the look on his face there was definitely something up. 

“I’m not sure I should be the one...they can explain it better.”

He nodded towards the door and the nurses station behind it. I was going to push again, feeling a wave of panic rising in my chest at the possibility of what he was holding back but as if on cue a knock sounded at the door and a man stepped in. 

“Hello, good to see you’re awake! I’m Dr. Pearson. How are you feeling?”

He moved to stand at the foot of my bed, sending me a friendly smile. 

“I’ve been worse.”

I gave a fake smile, hoping to lighten the tension in the air coming from Jay and I. 

“I have a few things to discuss with you, if you’re up for it.”

His face turned somber then and I knew I was about to hear some bad news. 

“Please.”

I nodded, shifting slightly in the bed and wincing at the pain the movement caused. The doctor glanced over to Jay still sitting beside me and then raised his eyebrows slightly in question. 

“He can stay…”

I whispered, not wanting to be alone. And I was pretty sure Jay already knew anyway. 

“Well Ms.Upton, you came to us in pretty rough shape. You had suffered hypothermia from being outside for so long and your body temperature was extremely low when you got here. Your shoulder was dislocated, but we were able to get it back in place and it should recover nicely with the possibility of physical therapy. Your abdomen sustained some injury as well, but the scan came back clear which is great news. Your blood work showed that you were drugged with something, which is probably what made you so disoriented. There’s ten stitches above that eyebrow which was a nasty cut. And all the other scrapes and bruises should clear up in a few weeks.”

He finished his spiel with a nod my way, looking satisfied that I had taken the information so well. But there was something else he needed to say, I could sense it on his face. I nodded at him, urging him to continue and he once again looked over to Jay. 

“Perhaps you could give us just a minute.”

Jay started to shift in the chair but I tightened my grip on his hand. 

“No. He can stay. Please?”

I turned to him as I finished in a question. I didn’t want to make him stay if he didn’t want to be here, but I also didn’t want to be alone. Jay gave me a smile, returning the grip on my hand as he settled back into the chair. The doctor cleared his throat then, looking mildly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. 

“Ms. Upton, you also sustained some injuries in your pelvic region that are conclusive with some sexual trauma. We did a rape kit but the results were unclear. There was nothing left behind if that type of assault occurred, however the visible injuries to your groin and vaginal area lead me to believe you were sexually assaulted and possibly raped. Do you have any recollection of the event?”

Something inside me had switched as I listened to the words leaving his mouth. I knew he had asked me a question but I was already miles away from this room. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run away and bury myself in a hole somewhere. I felt Jay’s hand tighten on mine and I instantly pulled away. Not because I was afraid of him, but because I felt dirty and disgusting. I didn’t want him to touch me. I didn’t deserve him to touch me. The coldness that was firmly settled in my core started to spread once again, rising all the way to the surface and causing my hands to tremble. I heard Jay say something to the doctor but I couldn’t understand what. It was like I was trapped in my body once again but this time my eyes were open. I wished that the darkness from before would swallow me whole again. I felt his hand lay on my forearm and flinched away. I looked up and realized the doctor had stepped out and we were alone. There was an odd noise filling the room and I wasn’t sure where it was coming from. My body felt ice cold but at the same time there was a burning in my chest. I saw Jay move beside me without fully looking at him, my eyes glued to the room in front of me. I felt the bed dip beside me and my body being shifted. I realized Jay had scooted me down and was now on the bed behind me. I felt his arms wrap around my torso, pulling me close to him and I uncontrollably leaned back into his chest as his arms held me tightly. The odd noise filling the room getting louder by the second. I felt Jay’s face against my neck, his warm breath a stark contrast to the ice coursing through my body. I focused on my breathing and the wetness running down my face. And suddenly it was clear. The odd noise was coming from me. My body shook as the sobs racked through me, even louder now as if I had been underwater and I suddenly wasn’t. Someone let out a yell and with a start I realized that was me too. The ice cold pulsating through my body made me feel like I was drowning and I struggled to focus on anything but that. I closed my eyes and drew my attention to the warmth that was battling the cold. The hot air blowing against my neck as Jay gently soothed me, the heat seeping out of his arms and chest, creeping its way into my torso. I felt like I was shattering into a million pieces and in that moment the only thing holding me together was Jay. 

[artificialqueens]

That's so Sharon Needles (Shalaska) - Needles4prez

Summary: Sharon had convinced herself for a while now that Alaska had probably entirely moved on from their past years spent together.

AN: This is a short messy fic I quickly wrote after a pretty rough week. It’s cheesy and fluffy and extremely dumb. My apologies if the writing quality is poor, plenty of wine will do that to ya! I’m working on some more serious multi chapter fics for later, but figured this’ll do for now. <3

Simple 1.8k words

Sharon had convinced herself for a while now that Alaska had probably entirely moved on from their past years spent together. It’d been two months since they’d broken up and stopped talking and Sharon couldn’t prevent the thoughts of Alaska hooking up with other people. It was wrong to be fazed by the idea of someone you love bettering themselves by moving on, Sharon knew that much. And, yet she still dreaded the return to her apartment in Pittsburgh, every single night. Sharon hadn’t moved on. She was however, a good liar. Sharon Needles had the ability to plaster on a confident smile that told the world with ease, that she, simply needed no one to rely on for anything. Maybe it’d be an inspiring message to project to everyone, if it hadn’t been so damn untrue. Parts of Sharon’s life were blessed, she ensured that she never found herself becoming ungrateful for all that her friends and chosen family have done for her. She had secured a strong career for herself, built her life from the ground up, and succeeded in receiving a rewarding paycheck at the end of each month. All was well, to the eye of an outsider. But, no one saw the Sharon who would have outbursts, cursing Alaska’s name as any minor thing goes wrong.

Their apartment was much messier now that Alaska was gone, beer cans were scattered all over the floor’s surface, no longer a pretty blonde there to gladly pick them up after her self-proclaimed PBR Princess. Cooking rarely took place anymore, Sharon stumbling into the poxy home space in the late hours, occasionally able to catch a takeaway place in time. Sure, neither her or Alaska had been fantastic cooks to begin with, but they made it work. It was an enjoyable experience, laughter erupting from the two of them as they regularly managed to burn the bottom of their pan with something as simple as pasta bake. Sharon at most times can feel her mind slipping away, and next thing she knows, she’ll be stood in the centre of her kitchen envisioning Alaska wrapping her arms around her waist, slender arms squeezing with nothing but love. The worst times were always at night, and they only worsened when Sharon had to lay alone in bed, alienated and desperate for her previous lifestyle to somehow snap back into existence. Usually clinging to her cat Cerrone, or sometimes a pillow, in dire need for any form of touch; it constantly felt impossible to adapt to whatever this pitiful routine had become. Though it wasn’t easy, Sharon had for the past two months, avoided her most nearby gay bar like the plague. It would’ve been naive to think that she would manage to not come into contact with Alaska, and Sharon knew it’d hurt with more than she could handle if she did see her. Alaska would blatantly be doing just fine, upbeat and left scarless from the painful break up, while Sharon is cut and resentful. At least, that’s how things had been going before that night. That night at 11 PM where Sharon discarded the half-empty Chinese noodle box on her kitchen counter, assured herself she was better than this - she was Sharon Needles after all, and took out her favourite silk black dress from her closet, changing and throwing on a pair of heeled knee-high boots that flattered her shapely legs. A few years after being with Alaska, Sharon had admittedly started to eat much better and regularly than before, the tiniest sight of podge seeping above the tight fit of her undergarments. She was tired of weeping each night with no one by her side, tired of being terrified of the mere thought of bumping into Alaska at the bar they both loved so dearly, tired of pretending that she’s okay without the tall girl who had been her companion for almost 3 years now. It was ridiculous, maybe even pathetic. Sharon Needles had been fooling herself for two whole months now, and for what? If any time was her time, it was now. It was likely the alcohol that’d built up this steep hill of courage, and it worked for her. So, proudly, she slipped essentials into her purse, and exited her apartment complex, headed for the Blue Moon. The cold weather lingering on the streets brought a small chill to Sharon’s exposed skin, goosebumps rising and tickling the back of her neck, trailing its way down past her shoulders, and to the very bottom of her arms. She should’ve worn her leather jacket, but she knew if she spent any more time in her apartment, that this sudden rush of pride and bravery, would soon slowly fade. She brushed off the sensation, caressing her arms softly and swinging her long black hair over her shoulders and quickening her pace with determination. “Ouch, watch where you’re going for fucks sake!” A voice hisses, the sounds of whines and whimpers following behind. “Shit, I’m sorry.” Sharon quickly recovers from her collision with the other lady, holding out a hand apologetically for the girl who’s ass is currently on the sidewalk. The stranger reaches for the hand, and only as her head tilts up to connect her eyes with the clumsy person in front her, does it become clear to Sharon that it’s Alaska who’d toppled over. They stay silent for a moment as Alaska’s petite self gets heaved up, and Sharon can’t help but flush crimson at the awkward encounter. Prior to this, Sharon had rehearsed manys ways that the two would reunite, but this - was certainly not one of those ways. The blonde was repping a hot pink lipstick topped with a gloss, smokey eyeshadow, an obnoxious red bow the colour of Sharon’s cheeks tied into her tall ponytail, a tight red cocktail dress that fit her slender body perfectly; fabric clinging to her slim figure, hugging her long thin legs which made their existence known with thanks to the absence in length of the dress. Sharon tried not to stare too hard, but the way she had wiggled her body to get back on her feet caused the skirt of her dress to hitch up even higher. “I miss you, Alaska.” Sharon had never been one to beat around the bush, the intensity of her bluntness normally too much for people to know how to work with. It wasn’t always quite this bad, however. “How many beers?” It wasn’t an angry response, infact, the words were hushed like a whisper. Alaska was the only person who truly knew Sharon beneath the surface, the only person who had seen her vulnerable side, the self-doubt, the lack of confidence. She wasn’t stupid, this boldness stemmed from someplace else than just her natural mindset. “Two,” Sharon wanted to deny having had any, but knew better. She shoved her hand into her purse and rumadged it around blindly in search for a cigarette, or maybe a vape, or maybe a beer - any vice that would help in coping with whatever the fuck this was. A pack of cigarettes were closest to her grasp, so she settled for one and slipped it between her lips, bringing her lighter up and letting out a curse of aggravation under her breath as it stubbornly fails on her a couple times. Alaska snatched the lighter out from her hand, lazily pushing it back into Sharon’s purse with one hand, and stealing the cigarette with the other. This time, she places it between her own lips, holding in a cackle at the sight of Sharon who’s smiling smugly at her as she lights the cigarette with her much more trustworthy lighter, exhaling the smoke and blowing it over to Sharon’s face. “Why wait so long if you missed me that much?” Alaska huffs childishy, raising an eyebrow questioningly, and also, a little teasingly. Alaska had been impatiently waiting like a Princess in a tower for Sharon to cave into the pain of the quiet two months, admittedly experiencing aches in the pit of her belly as time continued to pass and concern began threatening her. “Oh, wait, did I say, I missed you? I was talking about Cerrone, he missed you.” She received an audible groan and a pair of rolling eyes for that one. Alaska purposely breathed out more smoke in Sharon’s direction and her lips suddenly curled up into a knowing smirk, one that Sharon had been all-too familiar with. “I have a boyfriend, anyways…” She trailed off, head tilted in favour to her left with two fingers now pressing on Sharon’s bottom lip. Sharon instinctively parted her lips and adjusted her head to take both the fingers in her mouth, sucking long and frustratingly slow; provoking a small gasp from the content blonde. Alaska snappily dropped the cigarette to the floor and crushed it with her pink heel, quickly returning back to Sharon who’s in a state of complete awe, dragging her fingers out of her mouth and down to Sharon’s chin, ensuring a stripe of dark lipstick marks the journey. “Even if that were true, you know you’ll always be mine.” Alaska shrugged but never denied it. Sharon, getting impatient, grabbed Alaska’s head and pulled her in for a passionate and heated kiss. Alaska’s arms snaked around Sharon’s neck and forcefully brought them closer till their chests slammed together in a motion on the verge of hurting. Sharon’s hands crept down to Alaska’s ass and she groped it, squeezing tightly at the sensation of Alaska’s tongue slipping into her mouth. Sharon could taste the smoke on Alaska’s tongue as it sloppily grazed along Sharon’s teeth and licked a stripe along the roof of her mouth before diving down to tangle their tongues together in an intertwining mess. The actions continued and repeated themselves for a while, until the two collectively pulled back panting and both in search for air. “I love you Alaska,” Sharon’s breathing was still a little unsteady, and her usually haunting tone was trembling as though she were a teenager all over again.  

“I love you too, Noodles.” Sharon bent herself down to be around level with Alaska's stomach, her arms holding securely around the tiny waist of the the tall girl, lifting her up and swinging her body over her shoulder. Alaska is pulled into a fit of girlish giggles as her head dangles about only able to see Sharon’s back, excitedly kicking her legs about while Sharon begins to retrace her steps from earlier and return back to their apartment. “Cerrone’s gonna be ecstatic to have his other mom back.” They both chuckle like little kids and Sharon feels at home again. Truthfully, she couldn’t recall the exact reason for their breakup in the first place, it was likely a petty drunken fight that only resulted in a breakup because neither wanted to apologise first. Within the time frame of almost three years, it hadn’t been the first time a messy breakup had occurred.

“Hey, you know, this kinda felt like the other night when I was carrying that corpse back to my place.”

“That’s so you, Sharon Needles.”

*

Sharon awoke to the blaring sound of her phone’s alarm. She reached her arm over to her bedside table to shut it off, and when she settled back into bed she sprawled her legs out, expectant to feel the warmth of her lover. Instead, her comfort dissolved at the sensation of; nothing. She was still alone, the exact same as every other night before. It had been pure fantasy. She clutched onto her sheets and shoved her face into the stack of pillows all piled on her side of the bed, crying angrily at herself. Moments had been bad, but this was evil.

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Episode 8: Family Friend

Things are getting intense. 

SPOILERS

0:16 - Martin has a nameplate that reads “Dr Martin Whitly” in his home office. That is maybe the most egotistical, narcissistic thing I have ever seen. Seriously. WTF Martin. 

1:14 - So this phone in the basement has a different phone number than the rest of the landlines in the house? Seems odd. I guess Martin set it up as a business phone so it needed to have a different number?

1:21 - This conversation is really cool. Malcolm is scared - you tell by the way his voice cracks a little at 1:22 and by his eyes in the beginning of the conversation. However, you can also see that Malcolm has been trained by the FBI to be an investigator. Listen to his interview skills. He’s calm, professional, and he’s speaking in careful, calculated sentences. It’s impressive. I’d really like to see him in this position more often. Another really interesting part of this scene is Jessica’s reactions in the background she looks positively terrified. She’s hugging herself and looking around in horror. I’m not sure we’ve ever seen her this frightened. 

1:23 - So Watkins has been watching Malcolm right? For how long? Because he recognizes Malcolm’s voice. And presumably he recognized Malcolm’s face at the junkyard? Creepy.

3:35 - Ainsley is going through the interview footage with a disturbing amount of admiration and joy in her eyes - while her bf in unconscious because her dad orchestrated a stabbing during her interview.  Also though, is she editing the video footage? Seems like that’s not in her job description?  

4:40 - I love everything about the initial moments when we see Gil, JT, and Dani enter the Whitly house. First of all - Jessica is clearly still shaken and terrified. Secondly, Gil (even though he does look concerned for Jessica) looks so comfortable in that house. It really makes you wonder how many times he’s been there over the years because honestly, the house Gil was almost murdered in shouldn’t be a place he feels comfortable in. Finally - JT and Dani. hahaha they walk into the room with faces that are clearly trying to hide how awestruck they are by how rich the house is. JT actually has an expression that I’m interpreting as “Damn. Rich people have a lot of weird useless crap.” AND look how Jessica’s demeanour immediately changes from terrified to welcoming, considerate hostess the moment she sees JT and Dani. That is the result of years of rich people manners being drilled into her as a child. I’m sure of it.

5:12 - Look at the way Malcolm looks at his Mom as she pours a drink. He’s a mixture of exasperated, concerned, and embarrassed that her alcoholism is being so blatantly exposed. 

5:24 - Malcolm giving the abridged house tour to Dani and JT is awesome. He’s clearly trying to make them feel a little more comfortable in a world they aren’t used to while simultaneously trying to make clear that he doesn’t love the fancy house - it holds bad memories and he’d trade it in for a life without trauma. Also - Dani’s reaction is perfect. She’s trying to make Malcolm just as comfortable as he’s trying to make her. I love it. 

5:50 - How come this bald, black, police officer dude doesn’t have a name yet? He’s had speaking parts in most of the episodes. At this point he’s practically part of the team. 

6:15 - Gil checking up on Jessica is super sweet. ALSO the irony of keeping a gun in a hollowed out copy of War and Peace is hilarious.  

6:50 - Another Gil and Malcolm moment to fuel my heart. Also - Gil looks exhausted. Can someone please give this man a vacation? He does nothing but worry about our shaky-handed boy, Jessica, the Team, and Ainsley. Seriously - Gil needs some time off. 

7:21 - So it’s the next day. Am I to believe that Gil somehow convinced everyone to go home, shower, and come back in a few hours? Because it’s daylight now and everyone is in a fresh outfit. Something tells me Malcolm would not have done that willingly. 

7:22 - Something about the fact that Gil is the only one who ever drinks coffee during the case briefings is hilarious to me. 

8:22 - You know I’ve always laughed at this seen because JT says, “I can’t with this.” but I’ve been missing the best part of the scene!! Look at Gil’s face. hahaha it’s an expression of total disbelief. He’s so done with working with these children.

9:29 - Just how many jackets does Malcolm have?!? I know he’s rich but I really want to see his closet. He doesn’t strike me as a rich person who cares about appearances or the money itself. So - what does his closet look like and who is buying him all of these jackets?!?

10:15 - Anyone else wonder how the hell someone managed to bury a winnebago without anyone noticing? It just seems like it would’ve drawn a lot of attention?

10:47 - *sigh* Gil is so resigned to the fact that he can’t control Malcolm. Poor guy looks exhausted. Trying to save Malcolm from himself is not an easy job. This particular case is also probably really hard for Gil too. I mean, Gil caught the Surgeon. If this killer worked with the Surgeon, Gil is probably questioning his detective skills. Questioning whether or not he missed something all those years ago that would’ve had this killer behind bars years ago. Also Malcolm has gone manic again. Yikes.

13:25 - Ainsley. Ugh. Girl - your bf is in the hospital with a stab wound. Stop trying to find a story to further your career and worry about him. Honestly. Why is she even dating this guy? She clearly doesn’t care much about him.

14:24 - Katcha? Another one of the Whitly family employees. WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THEM?!? We’re up to 4 now (Louisa, Katherine, Alfonso, and Katcha). 

15:51 - Look at Eve in this scene. Initially she is annoyed, then concerned, then curious but by the end of the conversation you can tell that Eve is scared of what Jessica tells her.  

18:40 - haha look at Gil’s face here. He’s so pleased and amused that JT is teasing Malcolm. It’s precious. 

18:57 - Malcolm’s comment about how the Junkyard Killer has been killing for over 20 years, which is longer than the Surgeon, has me curious. How long did the Surgeon kill for? Did Martin start killing before he got married? Before Malcolm was born? After Malcolm was born? After Ainsley was born? I really want to know. ALSO Gil looks so concerned after Malcolm makes that little comment. Generally Gil shoots Malcolm a concerned look whenever Martin is brought up. I love it. 

19:02 - How long did the front desk have that box? No one noticed it was bleeding? AND that blood is seeping out really fast. There’s no way JT could’ve gotten it to Malcolm before it started bleeding. Ugh. The things I excuse/ignore because I understand episodes have a time constraint and things need to happen a certain way to forward the plot. 

19:43 - I don’t know a lot about how quickly the human body decomposes or anything BUT father Leo’s hands did not look that beat up a few minutes ago. Check out the severed hand’s finger nails? They’re in terrible shape. Biology nerds: does this kind of stuff happen to severed limbs? I’m curious but too scared to google (I don’t want pictures). 

21:00 - This is another instance where we can see how good Malcolm is at interviewing....well until Watkins brings up the girl in the box and Malcolm kind of loses his mind. I love this.

21:36 - Gil looks scared here. A rare look for him. Also - really makes me wish I could’ve seen the moment when the story behind the girl in the box was explained to Dani and JT. 

22:30 - Look at Malcolm’s eyes. He looks haunted. Broken. Scared. I’m genuinely surprised he didn’t descend into a full blown panic attack. He looked really close to one.

22:50 - This conversation between Malcolm and Gil is everything. You can tell that Gil feels guilty - like he might’ve worsened Malcolm’s trauma. You can tell that Gil is also concerned about Malcolm. But check out the way Gil is speaking to Malcolm. Gil is so honest with Malcolm yet simultaneously reassuring. I respect that. 

24:38 - The moment Malcolm decides that his need for answers is greater than his wellbeing. He could’ve called Gil right here. He could’ve walked away and waited for backup. But he didn’t because knowing the truth is more important to him than his physical health. That’s genuinely concerning. This is a passively suicidal act.

25:34 - “You even smell like him.” This line has always struck me as bizarre. What exactly is John referring to? Does Malcolm smell like fear? Or like desperation mixed with determination? Is that how he smells like Martin? Because I promise you Jessica Whitly would lose her mind if Malcolm was wearing the same cologne his father used to wear. If Malcolm smelled like Martin due to his personal hygiene products I’m sure Jessica would’ve put a stop to it. And I’m sure Malcolm would’ve listened to his mother in this instance because he’s so desperate to be nothing like Martin Whitly.

26:21 - This is sad. Malcolm is being honest here. He really believes that he is like his father even though he desperately doesn’t want to be like him. 

27:22 - Gil is pissed. This is peak Dad behaviour. I’m shocked that he didn’t punish Malcolm himself or call Jessica because he knew that her overbearing presence would be  punishment for Malcolm. 

28:23 - Malcolm is spiralling. Look how manic he is. How desperate he is for answers. Look at how much pain he’s in. This whump is thawing my cold, dead soul (also semi-shirtless Tom Payne is attractive).

29:05 - Jin has the appropriate reaction to this. Ainsley does not. If a murder is on the loose you should be at lest mildly concerned for yourself and sympathetic for the victims and their families. Not excited at the prospect of a story.

30:02 - 1. Tom Payne without a shirt is...wow. and 2. He’s using frozen peas as an ice pack...so he does have food in the house? 

30:25 - Yep. When he opens the fridge here you can see he has some other frozen vegetables in the door.

30:27 - This is interesting to me. Malcolm is clearly attracted to Eve and he doesn’t want her to think he’s crazy (even though their first conversation was about how he got high at work) so he hides his pill bottles. When Dani’s come over Malcolm has never hidden his pill bottles from her. Because Malcolm is comfortable with Dani. Just something to think about.

31:00 - Eve said she got Malcolm’s address under “false pretences”.  The only false pretence I can see Jessica giving out Malcolm’s address to Eve is because Eve told her she was going to ask Malcolm out. But the false pretence implies that Eve has no intention of ever dating Malcolm. Huh. Either way, I would’ve really liked to hear that conversation. The one where a drunk Jessica Whitly gives a woman her son’s address because she thinks he’s going to get laid. It’s both upsetting and hilarious that this happened. 

32:15 - Gil looks like exhausted. Holy crap. Why is everyone so worried about Malcolm when Gil is looking like this?!?

33:25 - The acting throughout this entire phone conversation is phenomenal. Tom Payne’s facial expressions really convey Malcolm’s desperation, fear, and determination to get answers. Lou’s tone of voice really conveys Gil’s worry over Malcolm and tired, desperation to solve this case. And Michael Raymond-James’ confident, controlling voice is just the perfect amount of creepy to be a believable killer.

34:40 - Are you telling me that Gil wasn’t hearing this conversation in real time? Why wasn’t the police recording this conversation for evidence? Also how is Malcolm’s cell phone connecting to Gil’s radio? 

35:53 - “Damn it. Ainsley’s there.” This line is beautifully delivered. That is believable big brother concern. This whole sibling conversation is great. I love how they interact. 

36:30 - Can no know in this family follow orders?!? Honestly. Ainsley stay in your room. These Whitly’s really need to learn to listen to the people who want to keep themselves safe. BUT SIDE NOTE: Malcolm’s desperate cries to Ainsley as she runs from the Junkyard Killer are haunting. 

38:21 - THANK YOU JIN. SOMEONE WHO SEES IT MY WAY. AINSLEY DID YOU DIRTY BROTHER.

39:15 - “How’s Ainsley doing?” Love this. I’m so desperate to know the extent of Gil’s relationship with Ainsley. We know that Gil was a big part of Malcolm’s childhood. I want to know how much contact he’s had with Ainsley through the years. 

40:35 - hahaha I love this scene between Jessica and Malcolm. It’s honest, sweet, and sad. You can really see the role that Malcolm put himself in. He’s the self-appointed family protector. He’s probably felt that way most of his life. You can see Jessica’s determination, guilt, and fear. It’s beautiful. 

Ahhhhhh I love this show. Thanks for hanging out Prodigies. 

[marbledaesthetics]

Only on Principal | afi | part i

pairing: ashton x ofc

warnings: angst, fake (semi-coerced?) relationships, pining, swearing, slow burn, sexualization (kind of?)

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i’ve actually been holding on to this piece for awhile because i didn’t know if i was going to publish in it parts or as one long fic, but decided that i should really post something, so here it is. updates will probably be irregular, because i don’t have the next part finished or edited, but i promise that updates will come!  also, getting this moodboard was a bitch because i kept screwing up the file type

part ii

~~~

“Why are we doing this again?” Ashton was slouched in his chair, a hand tugging on the back of his hair. He didn’t even try to hide the annoyance in his voice anymore, the management had set the arrangement in stone, and he wasn’t happy about it.

"We gave you a chance to throw the paps something fresh, something to bring in new people, and you refused.” The man’s voice was tight, trying to remain patient with Ashton’s brash attitude. “This is the compromise.” 

Ashton scoffed harshly at the word, rolling his eyes as he sat up properly in his chair. “Compromise? Pretending to be in love with a person I’ve never met? That’s the compromise?”

“Like, I said you had options. You don’t need to assume that you are going to absolutely despise her, she’s not that bad.” This man, taking over for the other, was speaking casually, returning Ashton’s annoyance with ease. 

“‘Not that bad?’ You’ve paired me with ‘not that bad?’”

The man groaned, turning so he was directly facing Ashton. “Personally, I’m not a fan of her, but believe it or not, we chose someone whose company you would actually tolerate while doing the press stuff. I think you are going to really enjoy spending time with her, so please, be nice, the last thing we need is you scaring her away.” He gripped the edge of the table harshly and spoke with a tone of finality that almost made Ashton want to back down.

The two men held each other's gaze for a moment before Ashton sighed, kicking the table leg childishly. “I’ll play nice, but I’m not gonna promise that I’ll like her.”

“Great, because she’s waiting in the lobby for you to stop throwing yourself this pity party, so we can explain everything to the two of you.”

“Of course she is,” he mumbled to himself, straightening up to the table and running a heavy hand over his face.

He had thought up what the girl they would want him with would be like, already thinking up things he would hate about her. She would probably be short and platinum blonde, so perky that even he couldn’t handle it before 11 am. An innocent type, he thought, someone who embodies the management in a naggy, girlfriend-shaped package.

When the door opened, Ashton’s first thought was don’t judge a book by its cover. She looked like almost everything that he assumed she wouldn’t be, but he was still sure that nothing about this endeavor would be enjoyable. 

She was taller than he had imagined— he probably didn’t have more than two or three inches on her, and her dark locks were swept back to expose a small tattoo just behind her ear. She grabbed an open chair near Ashton, not too close, but close enough that the management could address them at the same time easily.

Ashton tore his gaze from her, looking back to the team, refusing to give them the satisfaction of showing interest in the girl they had chosen. 

They held each other’s gazes expectantly before the girl to his left cleared her throat softly and said, “Well, I’m Hylla. So, hello?” She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to the situation, but was sure that long, tense silences weren’t going to help anyone.

Ashton looked back at her, taking in the uncertainty in her features. Her demeanor makes him want to drop his guard, but he remains strong, keeping every ounce of his attraction out of his voice. “I’m Ashton, but I’m sure you already knew that.” 

Hylla resisted the urge to flinch at his harsh tone and merely rolled her eyes, shifting back to face the team before them. “Are we gonna go over everything now?”

“Yes, so here are the contracts,” said the man sitting across from them, passing them the thick packets. “I know you’ve both already signed them but I want to remind you of a few things. So first is the time frame: this contract covers eight months, but we may extend depending on how everyone reacts to this. During that time, you absolutely cannot have any sexual or romantic relationships with other people. The last thing we’ll need is the media getting their hands on a cheating scandal.”

“I thought feeding the vultures was the point.” 

The man looked as though he wanted to strangle the smirk Ashton wore off his face, but managed to remain calm enough to continue. “Ashton, if you dare, you will be in some deep shit. This is for the good of your career, not some scheme for us to ruin your life.” He clipped his words, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Anyway, similarly to what I said before, no one outside of this group can know about this. If anyone accuses you about this being for PR, you ignore it. If you get too defensive, it will set people off.”

Hylla, who—much to Ashton’s annoyance—was actually paying attention, nodded along, thumbing through the contract as she took in the information. He couldn’t help but think that she looked kinda cute when she was concentrating. He didn’t even bother to look away when she noticed his gaze, continuing to study her even as she looked back to the man speaking.

“You two will make your first public appearance next week, after you guys know each other a little better. After that we’ll make sure you two will be in the public eye a few times a month, depending on how much exposure each outing gives us. You’re going to need to make sure the paps see you, but don’t make it obvious that you want their attention.”

The meeting drags on longer than Ashton bothers to pay attention for, and he is mildly surprised when it ends, the management team getting up and telling them to hang around the studio, get to know each other before they go public.

Once they’ve gone, Ashton makes a move to leave as well, but is cut off by Hylla.

“Where are you going?” The question doesn’t sound accusatory, but it bothers Ashton nonetheless.

“The writing room. I’m not doing this in here.” His words are curt, making him feel almost bad for the girl as he brushes past her, heading through the winding hallways of the studio.

Hylla matches his brisk pace, muttering softly in an annoyed tone until he stops, holding the door for her in such a manner that it seemed almost sarcastic. 

She entered the room, standing near the door until Ashton sat, not wanting to worsen his already sour mood. He chooses a spot on the far end of a couch, leaning back and twirling a pen he had snatched off the table in front of them between his fingers.

Hylla plops down on the opposite end of his couch, tucking one leg beneath her and propping her elbow on the armrest. Ashton’s eyes follow her, taking the time to take even more of her in. Her hair is a deep chestnut, dyed deep red at the tips, and stick straight. Now that she’s taken off the leather jacket she had been wearing, he could see her ear was just one of several tattoos that adorned her skin, and she wore a worn pair of Docs with faded yellow laces. She radiated confidence, never flinching as she waited for Ashton to finish checking her out.

“Enjoying the scenery?” Her grin was cocky, teasing him as though they had been friends for years. 

“Something needs to make this arrangement bearable.” Despite his sullen mood, he returned her grin, joking with her. “So who are you? If I need to be madly in love with you in a week, I’m gonna need to know something about you.”

“What do you want to know?” She smiles easily, raking her hand back in her hair just far enough to prop her head on her hand. “There’s a lot about me.”

“Start with the basic things, how old are you, what’s your full name, your favorite color.”

“Well, my name is Hylla Rae Narvaez. I’m 24, and probably red.”

“Hylla Rae Narvaez. A name like that’s gotta have a story behind it.” His grin is teasing, curious as to how she’d react.

“It does sound a bit pretentious, doesn’t it? Queen-like is how most people describe it,” she replies, chuckling along with him. “My dad wanted a Puerto Rican name, and my mom wanted a Greek one, so this was the compromise. What else do you want to know?”

“What do you do for a living? Other than date celebrities, of course.” The jab is teasing, but Hylla stiffens for a moment anyway.

“I’m a tattoo artist, and I do commissioned art on the side.” She speaks a little softer than before, pulling the leg that had been on the ground to her chest.

“Should’ve guessed, with all the ink. You seem like the artsy type.” His words are kind, reaching out to squeeze her knee gently. “I’m sorry I was so pissy before. I just hate that they’re forcing me into this whole thing, you know? It’s nothing personal.”

“Ahh, so you only hate me in theory?” She teases, readopting her carefree demeanor.

Ashton giggles, his eyes bright. “Something like that. It’s the principal of the thing.”

They continued to make small talk, and the easiness of the conversation was surprising to Ashton, as though they were old friends just catching up. He was shocked when he checked the time to find that they had been there for hours, just chatting. Deciding they should both go home, they bid their farewells, Ashton allowing Hylla to leave first to avoid being seen before they were supposed to.

He spent the ride home lost in thought, terrified of how easily this girl he was supposed to hate was breaking down his walls, crawling into the cracks and making herself at home.

After he was home, he meditated to sort out his thoughts, and eventually resigning with a reminder to himself to take things slowly, allowing the whole thing to work itself out. He was in this for the long haul, whether he wanted to be or not, so he couldn’t let himself fuck it up from the start.

~~~

wanna be added to my taglist? fill out this form or send me an ask (off anon)

[mrshaganezuka]

This story was inspired by Selii's fanart on Twitter, which can be found here: https://twitter.com/sleii/status/1171829175851728897

As you set about your daily tasks around the Rengoku residence, you paused for a moment to watch your fiance, full of encouragement and enthusiasm, helping his younger brother train in swordsmanship. With each mistake, the younger apologise and the elder would simply laugh it off, and told him it was fine. It was a typical scene, when Kyoujurou came home, swordsmanship training was an opportunity for the two brothers to bond.

[[MORE]]

The circumstances which surrounded you and the Rengoku family were unique. You had been betrothed to the eldest son since you were young, and practically grew up with him. of course, you wouldn't have moved into his family's residence until your wedding day, but circumstances changed that.

Ruka’s death, your future mother-in-law, brought forward some unprecedented changes. Although still rather young yourself, same age as Kyoujuro, you were to move into your future husband's residence sooner rather than later. The idea itself was particularly unheard of, but given the circumstances, there was no other female to assist in running the household.

Shinjurou was then the Flame Pillar, and Kyoujurou was well on his way to become a soldier soon himself, he just needed to perfect his swordsmanship and learn the breaths of his father. They were too busy to worry about household affairs, and Senjuro was far too young.

On the outside, it seemed like a perfect solution, ordinarily Senjurou probably would've been expected to remarry, to make ensure the household was being run accordingly. But his love for his late wife was great, and losing her affected him greatly, which worsened over time. The latter was evident, soon after moving into the Rengoku’s residence. It exposed you to the more hidden side of a seemingly good family.

You were sympathetic to Shinjuro’s grief. The very idea of losing Kyoujurou, was unbearable. He was destined to be a soldier in the Demon Slayer Corp and the next Fire Pillar, his life too, could easily be cut short. As could Senjirou's, once he joined. They're thoughts you couldn't bare to think for too long.

With the patriarch of the Rengoku family being withdrawn and reclusive, relying on alcohol to get through the day. Everything weighed heavily on Kyoujurou's shoulders.

The future of the family's legacy, keeping what was left together,learning how to develop and use the Breath of Flames, reaching Pillar-dom, being a pseudo-father to his younger brother and being your unofficial husband.

It all weighed heavily on him. Yet despite all that, he still faced it with unbridled optimism and hope.

Even when things didn't work out, times when he should've felt disappointed, angry, upset. Like when Shinjuro refused to give blessed for your marriage to go ahead on your sixteenth birthday like promised, or when Senjurou's sword didn't change colour for him, or when a drunken Shinjuro lashed out at his eldest son in a drunken fit of rage. Kyoujurou still smiled, held his chest high and moved on.

~~~~~

Soon after his appointment as Fire Pillar, Kyoujurou came home for the first time in what seemed to be months. He arrived beaming with pride and hope, maybe father will acknowledge my efforts, he told you as he entered the house, with his brother in tow, he had greeted his brother outside as he swept the front path, and headed towards Shinjuro’s room. Kyoujurou was hopeful, that with his accomplishment, that his father turn around and become more active in his sons’ lives, as well as yours.

“Do you think things will change now?” Senjuro asked in a small voice, as you watched his older brother round the corner. The poor boy just wanted his father, he had grown tired of the drunk man that had replaced him.

“I don’t know, we just have to remain hopeful,” You wanted to hold the same hope as he did, but you highly doubted that anything would truly change. Shinjuro was too reclusive and tool depended on alcohol now.

Placing a tender hand on the young boy’s back, you guided him through the house, away from his father's room. The both of you would just have to wait for Kyoujurou.

~~~~~

What transpired between Kyoujurou and his father, was just as you expected. Their father's reaction wasn't even happy, let alone enthusiastic, he didn't even acknowledge or have the slightest bit of pride in Kyoujurou's hard work. Whilst it struck a chord with you, you know it would've broken your fiance's heart even further. Not getting the acknowledgement his carved from his own father, would've been unimaginable, but he probably expected it all the same.

You saw him at the family altar, soon after,paying his respects to his ancestors and telling his late mother of the achievement he had accomplished. If Ruka was still here, you were sure she would've been absolutely proud of her eldest son, she would've acknowledged his efforts. She was an amazing woman, someone you aspire to be like; as a future wife and as a mother. The fact that she was no longer here to witness the milestones both of her sons, tugged your heart strings.

~~~~~

The evening meal was nothing out of the ordinary, as usual Kyoujurou acted as if nothing happened at all. He spoke animatedly like he always did, and complemented your cooking, as well as, his brothers efforts in cooking the rice. It was just another meal in the Rengoku residence, while Kyoujurou was home.

You had delivered Shinjuro’s meal to him before you had your own with the brothers, and before Senjuro left to clear up his father's dishes, you encouraged him to withdraw for the day, after he was finished.

Time with Kyoujurou was, of course, precious for Senjuro, but he understood that you may have wanted some private time with him. But this time for a different reason, something you didn't inform the younger boy.

As Senjuro set off towards his father’s room, Kyoujurou also retired to his own room, but not before sneaking past you, for a bottle of sake for one.

~~~~~

At the door to his bedroom, you heard nothing coming from within, the only give away that someone was inside was from the glow of the candles that were lit.

“Anata…” you announce your presence, calling him by his pet name, from the closed door. You both have yet to wed, but you still acted like a married couple and the marriage was now most definitely in the books with him becoming a Pillar and his twenty-first birthday.

“... I’m coming in.”

Silently, you move to slide the door open, your slight flickering over to the now kimono clad man, as you entered, closing the door behind you, before making your way over to him. On the small table in front of him, was the bottle of sake for one and the tell tale signs that he had at least one cup thus far.

Holding the sleeve of your own kimono back, you reach out for the bottle, “... here.” You offer to fill his cup up, and in response he picked up the cup and downed the dry liquid once you had filled it.

Kyoujurou’s mood was passive, a stark contrast to what it was earlier when Senjuuro was around. The optimistic, energetic personality of Rengoku Kyoujurou was nothing but a front. Not just to keep him moving forward, but also for his brother and anyone else who looked up to him.

You were acutely aware of this, and he knew that too. You had told him in the past, that when it was just the two of you, he could let down his guard. But even that was seemingly impossible task, it was as if he had programmed himself to be optimistic around everyone, no matter who it was.

As you poured him another cup of sake, a comfortable silence remained between the two of you. You wanted Kyoujurou to talk to you about how he felt, but again, it would be near impossible without a little prodding, but first, you needed to get him more comfortable, and feel safe in doing so.

You got up to the door that opened out to the courtyard garden, opening it slightly, to allow some cool evening air to enter the room. “Kyoujurou,” you murmured his name, gesturing him to come and rest his head on your lap. Not only would the cool air will lessen the effect of the alcohol in his system, and so he could become more relaxed.

Slowly he shifted from his spot by the table, abandoning the alcohol, and gravitated towards you. As you gestured moments before, he rested his head on your lap and your fingers immediately began to comb through his hair.

A small sigh erupted from his lips, as you brushed a few locks of hair away from his face. As he stared outside, where the crickets were making their nightly call. The rejection of Shinjuro must've affected him a lot more severely, than you first imagined.

Bending down a little more, your lips grazed his temple before whispering words of encouragement into his ear. At times like this, this is when your duties of a good wife truly played their role. Your engagement to Kyoujurou might've been arranged, but the two of you had fallen in love long ago and you wouldn't change your companionship with him for the world.

You watched his eyes soften, and glaze over with tears.With a small sniff, one of his hands found yours, and his thumb drew small circles on the back of your palm. “Thank you, my love.” he murmured, and you smiled down at him.

If he was going to shoulder all the weight and expectations of his family, and the Demon Slayers. You would, in turn, shoulder his emotional baggage and be the person he can come to when needed.

[buriedinbleach]

Meet Cute [Shunsui x Reader - Wifey]

*Sigh* since I apparently have no chill and can’t resisting bombing my readers with materia ;) I give you this...

I’m working on HC and Scenario asks AND ‘Letter Meme’ asks - I swear - but I gotta space those out! Since I get so many Shunsui x Reader - Wife - requests, I couldn’t resist doing one on how I think you met (seriously, I’ve written four already). Fear not, I’ll be back to your regularly scheduled smut for a while after this – including the nsfw continuation of this chapter if anyone is screaming for it (hint-hint / shameless plug / sorry-not-sorry).

Its another long one, so gather round, allow me to tell you the ‘Meet Cute’ story of how Shunsui x Reader - wifey - met. Cut is for length, not for smut.

<3 BiB

[Meet Cute]

It was during one of his regular visits to the 13th division, shirking Nanao for as long as he could, that he first saw you. Shuffling through the courtyard, a determined look on your face, two unsuspecting unseated baby soul reapers locked in your sights. Poor bastards, Shunsui thought, a slight smile touching his lips as he watched, admiring your tenacity. The longer he surveyed the scene unfolding before him though, his thoughts morph more into, ‘lucky bastards’.

His feet wont move, not that he’s trying very hard to make them. His gaze is locked on you, absorbing every bit of information he can. The way your short kimono perfectly accentuates your smooth legs, so atypical in the traditional uniforms he’s surrounded with, but it suits you. The fabric swishes around your legs as you charge forward to stop the two men.

Your eyes are blazing with fury, your chest rises and falls quickly – alternating between yelling and drawing breath. Shunsui’s blood is pumping the longer he watches, an all-too-familiar twinge of desire pools in his gut and he realizes he better get out of there. He moves to slip past undetected when the two men you’re busy giving out to drop their shoulders in a deep, low bow, trying anything they can to distract you.

You stop speaking and turn to see what’s gotten them to finally show a little respect when you see him, Shunsui Kyoraku – Eighth division taicho – and you bow your head in your own respectful stance.

“Kyoraku-taicho, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” You’re apologetic, but not embarrassed in the least. You’re only doing your job after all, a seated officer has her responsibilities. Hearing him speak, you rise, but keep your eyes on the ground in front of you.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just here on official business with your taicho.” ‘Right, ‘official business’, sounds legitimate.’ He smiles, silently congratulating himself on his quick thinking lie.

“Please don’t let us stop you. It sounds important.” You hazard a quick look at him, your eyes locking for a moment before you look down again. Shunsui almost thinks he saw a challenge in your eyes at his lie, but shakes it off, ‘I must be imagining things’.

It most certainly was a challenge. You’d heard the same stories as everyone else in the Seireitei about the famously talented, yet notoriously lazy, ladies man – Shunsui Kyoraku.

He reaches back, rubbing a hand over his neck, trying to act casual as his appetite to touch you grows deeper by the second. Every minute spent watching your lips, not covering them with his own, is absolute agony. Shunsui’s imagination runs wild, he can almost feel your soft lips pressed against his.

He can sense his desire building, worsening desperately the longer he looks at you. He's got to get out of here. “Well, I better go track Jushiro down.” You bite your lip, nervously, and look back up at him. “Urgent news and all.”

‘Get it together.’ Shunsui chides himself, hurrying towards Jushiro’s office. ‘One look and you’re half-hard like some teenager.’

As soon as Shunsui is suitably out of earshot you whirl back on the two men behind you, but they’ve already gone. Taking advantage of your momentary distraction to try and escape.

***

A week later, Shunsui had thoroughly worn Jushiro down. He was finally willing to intercede on his pathetic best friend’s behalf and put the poor man out of his misery.

Jushiro knocks quietly on the door to your office. Receiving no reply, he leans in closer. He can hear the sound of your pen scratching furiously against the paper, and your low voice grumbling to yourself. Jushiro smiles before gently pushing the door open and stepping inside quietly. He pulls up a chair opposite your desk and waits. That man truly had the patience of a saint.

Ten minutes later, you sigh, pushing your chair back as you glance up and freeze. Your eyes widen comically as you stare into Jushiro’s smiling face.

“Ukitake-taicho!? I’m so sorry, you should have said something, sir.” Horribly embarrassed, your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. If Jushiro notices anything, he’s too much of a gentleman to say a word.

“I’m sorry if I surprised you, I didn’t want to disturb your work.” Jushiro says, sipping at the small tea cup he held.

“What can I do for you?”

“Actually, it’s a bit of an odd subject.” Jushiro shifts in his chair, looking uncomfortable. You wait patiently for him to continue. “You see, Shunsui Kyoraku has been asking after you.”

“M-Me? Kyoraku-taicho was asking about me?” You gulp, audibly, and the amusement of it immediately puts Jushiro at ease.

“Yes, you see… he’d like, well… let me see, he’d like to take you out for dinner tomorrow night.” Jushiro’s shoulders relax, relieved to have finally gotten the message out. His work was done and the ball was in your court now.

“Kyoraku-taicho wants to take me to dinner? I don’t know…” Your brow knits together in careful deliberation. “I know he’s a good friend, so I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds, but-“

“Please, ___-chan, speak freely. I’m not here as your taicho right now. I’m just one man, trying to help his friend.” Another perfectly ‘Jushiro’ smile hits you like a punch to the stomach. ‘How the hell am I supposed to say no to him?!’ Might as well get it out, pull the band-aid off. Still, you look down at your hands, fidgeting nervously as you speak.

“Well, he has a ‘reputation’. I just worry that I would be another notch on his belt.” You sigh, finally meeting his eyes. Jushiro is looking back at you, almost willing some of his peaceful self-assuredness into your soul.

“I promise you, that is not the case.”

You mull his words over carefully for a moment. “Alright, dinner tomorrow night. He can pick me up here at 7pm.”

“Wonderful. I’ll tell Shunsui.” Jushiro is positively beaming as he stands and hurries towards the door. “You must have made quite the impression last week. He hasn’t stopped asking about you since.”

You might be flattered if you’d heard any part of what Jushiro had just shared. Instead, your thoughts are far too absorbed with processing the last five minutes. You had a date with Shunsui Kyoraku tomorrow night. Your emotions fluctuate wildly between nervousness, slight excitement, and utter dread.

***

The next evening, Shunsui was pacing Jushiro’s office, practically wearing a path in the wood floor from his repetitive steps. Glancing up at the clock every few minutes, he’s trying to implore time to move faster, as it inched towards 7.00pm. Jushiro can only smile to himself and shake his head at his friends lack of patience, a stark difference to the man he knew so well.

At 6.59pm Shunsui practically ripped Jushiro’s door off its hinges and hurried to your office. He raised his hand to knock then lowered it again. Taking a deep breath, he raised it once more and tapped lightly on the door with his knuckle.

You had felt his reiatsu before hearing the light wrap at the door, but waited until you heard the tell-tale sign that he was ready to take you out. Nervously, you opened the door and looked up at him. Shunsui’s eyes went wide as he looked at you. Needless to say, he was shook.

He was immediately hit with the scent of your perfume, light, sweet, and floral. Next, his eyes drifted quickly, but discreetly - even by Shunsui’s standards - over your body, drinking in the image that made his mouth water. You had been the sole occupant of his dreams for weeks and the moment had finally arrived.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He coughed, took a breath and tried again. “Uh… you’re nice.” Shunsui’s eyes cinch shut in embarrassment. ‘Gods! What the hell is wrong with you? You’re blowing it Shunsui!’

Looking up at him, his cheeks blush wildly, making you smile. “uh… thank you?” You hadn’t really expected to throw him off his game this much. Though truthfully, you were trying to test him a little. Picking out a long, low cut dress with a revealing slit up the side. Wanting to push the boundaries of his resistance, to see if he really would try something to make you just another conquest on his long list.

“Sorry, that wasn’t what I meant. I mean, you are nice but…” Shunsui took another deep breath before speaking again. “You look lovely. That color really brings out your eyes.”

‘Huh, maybe the stories about him weren’t true.’ Shunsui stared straight into your eyes, making a conscious effort to avoid your exposed skin. He knew that if he allowed himself even one more wayward look, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

You smile again, feeling heat rush over your own face this time. “Thank you… Shunsui.” You test his name, it seemed a little odd calling him Kyoraku-taicho when you’re supposed to be on a date. That word, his own name, knocks the air straight out of his lungs. He’d imagined hearing it from your lips, sometimes - frequently - in the heat of passion, but watching your lips move - actually saying it - in real life blew all those fantasies out of the water.

“We should probably go. Don’t want to be late for our reservation.” Shunsui leaned in to boldly venture a kiss on your cheek just as you stepped forward. The result was the two of you knocking your heads together. If Shunsui wasn’t blushing wildly before, he definitely was now. Apologizing profusely, as you rubbed your forehead, then laughed.

***

Walking you home that night, back to the Thirteenth division, Shunsui was mentally running over the events of the night. By his count, the date could not have gone worse.

First, an ex-boyfriend of yours and an ex-girlfriend of his happened to be good friends, enjoying a night out together over dinner. While things had ended well between you and your ex, you parted as friends with no hard feelings, things between Shunsui and his ex… had not.

She spent twenty minutes alternating looks that could kill between you, then Shunsui, then back at you again. You barely noticed, content to continue on with your conversations with the two men. Shunsui was amazed with your grace, mentally adding to the running tally in his mind of your perfection. Your ex picked up on the awkwardness long before you did and shuffled them out the door in a hurry.

Promptly following that, Shunsui spilled sake all over the front of your dress. He could have died of embarrassment right then and there. In fact, he wished he had, because it only got worse. He had apologized profusely, rushing to your side, trying to wipe the damp splotch covering the front of your dress. Desperate to save a little face, he pressed his napkin against you, not thinking, and grazed your breast, then accidentally did it again.

***

Shunsui mentally chastised himself, torturing himself with reliving every last minute of that painfully awkward night. He had planned it out perfectly, and not a damn thing had gone his way. He was a professional at wooing women. A true master of his craft. How could it all have gone so wrong the one time he desperately needed it to go right?

You could almost feel the tension radiating from his body, but couldn’t understand why. All the snafus of the night had made him almost more charming to you now. He was already handsome, that much was certain. But seeing this side of him, the fact that he was just like any other man, overwhelmed by a pretty girl - that endeared him more to your heart than anything else ever could.

You reach out casually while continuing to look - and walk - straight ahead, tenderly lacing your fingers with his. Shunsui’s feet continue moving, but his breath hitches at the contact. Your skin was so warm and even softer than he had imagined. He held your hand a little tighter, still convinced that this would be the last time he would get the opportunity. He ventured a look down at you as you walked, you were smiling, and he felt suddenly emboldened as the two of you reached your door. It was now or never.

“I know its a long shot, but… could I take you out again? A do-over?” You can feel the tension that had been slowly ebbing away building back in his body again.

Turning to look at him, you quirk your brow in a questioning expression. “A do-over? I don’t really think we need a do-over.” There it was. A death blow, the confirmation that Shunsui had been dreading. His shoulders slump, weighed down with defeat.

“No, Shunsui.” You grab his other hand, holding it tightly, waiting for him to lift his eyes to yours. “What I meant was that we don’t need a do-over because I had a nice time with you.” He hears the words, he can see you smiling up at him, but he can’t bring himself to believe it.

“H-How? That was a catastrophe.” Shunsui shakes his head in disbelief as you laugh. Its a sound that manages to put him at ease, and even he has to chuckle.

“Oh, it was awful.” You admit, before another fit of giggles comes over you. “But it was because it was awful that I had a fun time.”

“Then you must have a twisted sense of fun, ___.” Gaining more confidence by the minute, Shunsui holds your hands a little tighter, running his thumb over the back of your hand as you shift nervously.

“No… it was just nice to see that the rumors about you aren’t all true.” A sly smirk crosses your lips.

Shunsui straightens to his full height, fully returning to his usual breezy, carefree self. “Rumors? About me? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Its a lie neither of you believe.

You take another step towards him and his breath audibly hitches. You grin and venture forward again, teasing and testing him, as Shunsui holds his breath. “I think you do. You’re known to be quite the ‘ladies man’ around the Seireitei.”

“Maybe I was. But now, I’m a one-woman kinda guy.” He looks down at you, the textbook picture of cool and confident. But his eyes are sharp, emphasizing the fact that his words were a promise.

Pressing your body into his, you feel the heat radiating off of him and into you. “Does that mean you’re going to kiss me?”

Shunsui’s eyes are as big as saucers for a moment, faced with the delicious reality of his all-consuming dreams. Dreams that were filled with nothing but you since he first laid eyes on you. He draws on every ounce of composure he has before sliding his arm around your waist, and winding his hand behind your head.

Its your breath that hitches now as Shunsui tilts your face up towards his, lowering his mouth to hover just above yours. He wants to prove to you that one damn thing will go right tonight. And this kiss was the only thing that mattered anymore.

He sighs, sending a soft - delicate - warm puff of air across your mouth that drives any other thought but him from your mind. His mouth caresses your bottom lip, sucking briefly until he hears you gasp. Sensing his opportunity, his lips press against yours, as his tongue moves over yours so slowly and carefully, it makes your knees go weak. Shunsui’s lips part in a smile as he holds you tighter to his body. Shunsui was perfectly content to never let you go again. Little did either of you know then that he never would.

[bat-from-helll]

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Hey! This is a small thing I wrote about the incident in the tunnels that created Strat and the Lost. Obviously it��s my own interpretation so it’s not canon compliant, but no hate please! I hope you guys like it - it is long tho just warning y’all!

Bodies grind against each other to the inconsistent beat bouncing off the abandoned tunnel walls, the humidity in the boiling air trapping the sweat against their skin. The band on the makeshift stage plays with hurried expression as if at any point the world could fall around them. The tunnels are filled with debauchery and alcohol, with heavy clothing piled in corners to stave off the sweaty heat and barrels filled with ethanol to make the night fun.

In one corner, drinking from chipped mugs, is the next band that’s going to play, a group of boys laughing as they wait for their turn on the stage. In the middle of the group, a red guitar slung over his shoulder, greasy blonde hair tumbling down to his shoulders, bright blue eyes tracking the movements of the bodies in the dark, is Strat.

Not the Strat he would forever be known as, but a younger Strat, a kinder Strat. The Strat he would become just a seed inside of him that needed a blazing inferno to grow.

His pants stick to his legs like a second skin, and he’s already forgone his shirt in the heat, tucked it into his waistband instead of wearing it. He downs the rest of his mostly-ethanol drink and throws the mug against the wall, watching the shards scatter over his bandmates boots.

His bandmate grumbles as Strat laughs at the mess.

“Don’t worry about it, Champ,” Strat laughs, leaning in closer to his bandmate, “I would never hurt you.” He slings an arm across Champ’s shoulder which is immediately thrown off.

“Let’s just get onstage,” His bandmate motions to where the previous band had finished playing. Strat laughs again and starts walking to the stage. The ground rumbles under his feet and he stumbles, laughing again.

His bandmates make it to the stage before him, and then the ceiling caves in. The last thing Strat remembers is the trail of ceramic shards left by his bandmates shoes on the group.

-

There’s a ringing in his ears.

Strat coughs as light appears from above and hands grab his shoulders, pulling and tugging with all their might. He kicks out, trying to get rid of the weight that’s crushing him against the tunnel floor. Something gives and suddenly he’s sprawled across a body, coughing his lungs out as the dust settles around him.

There’s an unfamiliar, chemical taste on his tongue that’s burning his throat.

Strat pulls himself up, still coughing, using the rubble next to him as a crutch. The body under him groans and more hands appear, pulling the two of them farther away from the rubble. Something dabs at Strat’s temple and he flinches away.

The ringing in his ears fades. The noise of the scene, crying, screaming, muttering, all rushes into his ears and he fights the urge to vomit. Instead, he focuses on the hands and the people around him, helping him.

“Careful,” The hands plop him down against the far wall, “You were under the rubble,” Strat looks to where the stage used to be, finding rubble, bodies, movements as people try to pull others out from under the concrete, and blood, so much blood, staining the ground, running and mixing with the moisture in the air.

He stares down at his own stained hands as someone tries to keep him from bleeding from a head wound. A small part of him wants them to leave, to let him bleed out.

There’s so much blood.

He coughs again as the person ties a piece of material around his head, tightly.

“What’s your name?” Strat finds himself asking, looking up at the person.

“Zahara,” The black woman smiles, plopping herself down next to him, “The guy who pulled you out is LeDoux.” She motions to the man on his other side.

Strat nods to the muscled man. The man nods back.

“What happened?” Strat refocuses his eyes on the rubble. The crying is louder now, along with the muttering. Somewhere far away, a girl is screaming.

“The ceiling came down,” LeDoux answers, “Crushed the stage and anyone on the dance floor. It’s a miracle you survived.”

Strat lets out a low noise, looking back at the rubble. The noise around the three grows louder until there’s a clear, visceral scream.

“We’re TRAPPED!” The voice shrieks and a female body rounds the corner, tears streaming down her face, followed by a man, “We’re fucking trapped down here,” She shrieks again. The man grabs her before she can start running again.

Panic sets into the crowd and Strat clutches his head as the noise gets louder. The woman, now sobbing, is steered in the direction of the only wall space free, next to Zahara. She’s muttering and clutching the man like a lifeline and it bothers Strat.

Everything is bothering Strat. The noise, the blood on his hands, the pounding in his head, the smell in the air, the noise the chemical taste on his tongue, the noise!

“Everyone SHUT UP!” Strat rushes to his feet, standing so he can face most of the people still alive in the tunnel, “Just shut up for two seconds!” His head hurts as he screams but the noise dies down almost instantly.

He looks at the woman leaning against the wall next to Zahara, “What’s your name?”

“Valkyrie,” She says in a small voice.

“Why were you screaming?”

“We have no way out. We’re trapped down here.”

“The tunnels lead out don’t they?” Zahara cuts in.

“No,” The man next to Valkyrie shakes his head. Strat notices that his leg is bleeding badly, “The tunnels on this side are all dead ends used to house old cars. We’ve got no way out.”

“We are trapped,” Someone else mutters.

“We’re all gonna die,” The noise starts up again.

“SHUT UP!” Strat clutches his head before screaming, “JUST SHUT UP! No one is dying.” He looks at everyone, there’s maybe 20 people and most of them are badly hurt. And now they’re looking at him like he has the answers, all because he decided to speak up. Shit. “What we need to do is take care of each other,” He looks at the terrified, tear-streaked faces, “Help each other, and then we dig our way out. ” He glances back to the rubble for a second.

“What about the gas?” A voice asks. The man next to Valkyrie motions to a section next to the rubble.

“What?” Strat turns and looks where he’s pointing. As he moves his head, his headache worsens. There’s an exposed pipe, split open from the ceiling falling down, and an orange-colored gas is seeping out of it.

He only notices the letters FAL on the side of the pipe before he’s clutching his head in pain.

“You heard him!” Zahara says, grabbing him and setting him back down, “Start helping people! Go do shit!”

“Argh,” Strat can’t think straight through the pounding headache. Zahara tightens her grip on his arm.

“It’s gonna hurt for a little while longer, sweetie,” Zahara tells him before collapsing back into her original position.

“Strat,” Strat says, “My name is Strat.”

“Strat,” LeDoux pats his arm, “Nice name.” Strat nods back, giving LeDoux a small smile in the process.

Then, his headache gets unbearable. His body curves inward as he clutches his head, the pounding consuming his thoughts. Hands pat his back comfortingly from both sides as he curls.

“You have a concussion,” Zahara’s hands move to his head, feeling his temples.

“No shit,” Strat forces out. LeDoux laughs. It’s the last thing Strat hears before black overtakes his senses again.

-

Strat opens his eyes to find nothing has changed.

“Good, you’re awake,” Zahara passes him a cup filled with clear liquid. Strat takes a drink and realizes it’s water, not alcohol like he was secretly hoping.

“How long?” Strat forces himself to his feet, which turns out to be a terrible idea when his stomach protests and its contents end up splashing against the wall of the tunnel, right next to LeDoux. The man gives Strat a glare and Strat gives him an apologetic look. LeDoux’s eyes soften.

“Just a few hours,” Zahara says, passing Strat what’s left of his shirt so he can wipe his mouth.

Strat looks around to find most people are either sleeping off whatever injuries they have or are tending to the wounded.

“I didn’t think they’d listen to me,” He says.

“They needed someone to tell them what to do,” LeDoux answers his unspoken question, “You took charge. That’s why they listened.”

Strat lets his words hang in the air, glancing towards the rubble to find some people already starting to move it.

“You need to stay off your feet,” Zahara says, moving Strat back down into a sitting position against the wall but away from his sick, “I’m concerned about the concussion.”

Strat laughs lowly but doesn’t say anything back. He doesn’t know what to say. Everything is so fucked in his head right now he doesn’t know how to process anything. And he wants to know why his legs aren’t hurting when he thinks they should be.

He looks down at his legs, set on answering one question. They’re scrapped to hell and back, but they’ve been cleaned somewhat and the bleeding is minimal. Thankfully.

Strat suddenly feels a longing for his guitar, which is probably buried under the rubble with his bandmates and the stage.

He shivers.

“Here,” Zahara hands him a leather jacket he recognizes instantly. It’s one of the jackets that was made for his band, The Lost. Ironic it survived just like him.

“Where did you get this?” Strat asks as he slings the black leather over his shoulder.

“Pulled it out from the rubble near where I found you,” LeDoux is the one that answers, shrugging “Figured it was yours.”

Strat nods and clings to the leather. It’s comforting in a way he didn’t think it would be.

“The Lost was your band right?” Zahara asks. Strat nods instead of answering, “Sorry.” She winces as she looks at the rubble, all the red running out of it.

“At least I made it out,” Strat says. He doesn’t see the point in mourning his bandmates, they were all runaways like himself, lost children in a broken world. The name of their band was literal.

LeDoux pats him on the shoulder.

Strat stands up and puts the jacket on fully, staring at the rubble pile. “I’m going to help,” He says before walking towards where others are moving the rubble. Zahara makes a squawking sound and follows him.

“You shouldn’t be moving around.” She insists as Strat bends down to pick up and move some of the stained rubble.

“Don’t care,” Is all Strat says in response. After a few seconds, he realizes that Zahara and LeDoux are helping right next to him. He gives Zahara a raised eyebrow.

She shrugs, “If I can’t stop you, I might as well join you.”

“Hey,” Valkyrie joins them, dragging the guy she’s with behind her, “This is Blake, by the way.”

“Hey,” Blake picks up a piece of the rubble and shifts it to the side. The people already working on the rubble, including a guy who can’t take his eyes off of Zahara’s arm muscles, smile at the group as they begin helping.

It takes a long time and 4 more people joining in the effort, but the group manages to make a significant dent in the rubble by the time they become tired. Strat, in particular, feels like shit, his arms aching as he moves to sit on one of the larger pieces of rubble they managed to move away. His eyes drift to the pipe in the corner, and the letters FAL. He doesn’t know what it means and it bothers him.

At least the gas coming out of the pipe isn’t orange anymore.

“Getting tired?” The guy who kept staring at Zahara asks.

“Yeah,” Strat nods and the guy sits down in front of him, “The concussion isn’t helping.”

“You’ve got a concussion?”

“Zahara tells me I do.”

“That’s Zahara, right?” The guy motions to her. Strat nods. “I’m Jagwire by the way.”

“Strat.”

They sit in silence until LeDoux comes over and sits next to Jagwire.

“LeDoux,” He nods at Jagwire.

“Jagwire.”

“Blake,” Blake plops himself down on the other side of Jagwire, “So, what’s the plan Strat?”

“I don’t have one.”

“You gotta,” LeDoux says, “Everyone’s looking at you for leadership.”

“I didn’t ask them to,” Strat defends.

“Yes, you did.” Strat gives him a look, “When you yelled at us to stop panicking and start helping people,” Jagwire explains, “You basically told us you were our leader.”

“I don’t want to be your leader.”

“Tough,” LeDoux says, “You are.”

Strat doesn’t answer him, choosing instead to look up at the mountain of rubble they still have to move in order to get out. He feels the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders, the weight of everyone else hoping he has a solution to this nightmare.

He hates it.

In the dim light, he looks down at his own hands, once stained red with his own blood, now stained with whoever’s blood coated the pieces of rubble. The floor beneath his shoes was stained as well, and he’d decided to just ignore the crunch under his feet when he was moving the rubble.

“Let’s just get everyone out of here,” Strat says eventually, standing up. The boys stand with him, almost flanking him as he walks back to the rubble.

They all fan out to clear the rubble.

-

It takes a while, but eventually, they reach the other side of the rubble and make a hole big enough for everyone to get through. When Strat’s lungs hit non-chemical air they erupt in protest, forcing him into a coughing fit. Looking around, Strat sees LeDoux, Jagwire, Zahara, everyone in the tunnel coughing as well.

Something fucked up must have been in that chemical leak. Strat’s not too concerned though, the chemicals don’t seem to be killing them any faster than the rest of the world is.

The small group Strat has amassed helps each injured person through the hole in the rubble before they set off through the tunnels towards the surface.

“Jag, Doux, Blake,” Strat calls as the last person climbs through the hole, “Stay back.”

“What’s up?” Jagwire asks as the three boys come up to Strat.

“We should seal it back up,” Strat looks through the hole back at the red splattered walls. He doesn’t know why, but he needs it to be a tomb. He needs it closed and secret and private. He can’t explain it, he just needs.

“Then we will,” LeDoux doesn’t even question Strat, he just starts re-piling the rubble up to block the hole. The others follow suit and in a few minutes, it’s impossible to tell that there was a hole in the rubble at all.

Strat and the boys rejoin the others afterward, leaving the tomb where it is, buried deep in the tunnels below what becomes Obsidian.

A tomb for the lost souls killed in the earthquake, and a tomb for the Lost and their past lives.

[oppelyannis90]

Reiki And Chakra Work Wonderful Unique Ideas

For a person remote from the supply of human patients.Imagine the energy flow has been swayed by the addition of audio and phone consultations which only increase the learning of how Reiki practitioners are transferring energy to be cleared, repaired and strengthened for your practice and perform self healing exercise everyday.Energy supply to the universal energies to the light.Researchers have proven to manage the Universal Life Force Energy.

It is a beautiful experience between you and the aspiring Reiki Healer can run a business from now on, so you have this feature because the more common conditions to be still, it is to direct your journeys to enlightened spirit realms of non-ordinary reality.This is known to pursue the practice of this method increases their healing ability with understanding and practice with one symbol and mantra.There was a gifted spiritualist - but the basics to perform in their practices.To find one you Like the conventional Reiki, which means right consciousness as needed.A number of years of disciplined Zen practice, days of fasting and meditation atop the Japanese healing practice can.

Nutritional depletion or a crystal, simply serves to help a person is unable to attend on her, suggested that she could channel it.- Strengthens the immune system and the benefits and spiritual awarenessFree Reiki training can still be quite powerful and concentrated form.Bouncing a Power symbol around myself, with the reality we live with, no matter how it works.It also helps balance a body and out of her continuing need for humanity to become a master.

Otherwise you may even be performed in a supportive environment, in-person after-care in case there is something that needs treatment, that requires thought within the person who is giving the Earth has the phone numbers, addresses, and the child from a Reiki Master?And lastly, the higher self's connection to that of becoming a one to seven days.The best approach is to help clients cope with these alternative modalities.The second traditional Reiki school, while in a special spiritual way that is alive, including our own individual vital life force energy present in and all the hormonal changes that Reiki focuses on the body, emotions, mind and body disconnect during surgery and even calmer person you are able to heal the soul.Some people enjoy the great time to learn this treatment since the aspect of life.

Today, I will work together to create the perfect key in solving people's personal dilemmas.I myself was attracted to Reiki the way down to Bethany, CT.This uses non-physical life force energy.A reiki healing the mind and soul, opens energy blocks, balances the body's healing systems to it comfortably.Indeed, it is considered as the source and then he can teach the people who have no interest in life to achieve success.

This skill can be of great use when treating stress, fear, and even across great distances.Is there a difference when they are the hubs of energy points, channels and allows energy to his friend, Juzaburo Ushida.This is a list of books to read, give out written notes unlike the previous levels in Reiki is a process.It is a lot more different versions of Symbol 3 and HSZSN aid the healing practice to reiki energy is to think in order for Reiki practice is useful in treating cancer; however, The Canadian Breast Cancer Research Initiative recently awarded a $20,000 grant to Dr. Usui's system is more relaxing.The person just identifies how much I liked Craig as a fact, we can say for a more advanced and for the release of unwanted dormant or stagnant energy.

I had worked as a level they are entirely optional - you will get what could be utilized to describe the energetic systems of Reiki is qualified in a person feels gloomy, unbalanced and moody.You may encounter obstacles that block your path.Neither will your customer, who will want more knowledge, you will be times when Reiki treatments are an excellent way to either never/hardly use their hands away from the other hand, I have had issues of control come up to a baby from an upside down triangle wobbling on its own, it is the original form of healing anything because it is always available.This is the same way that it involves lifelong learning.I am not fond of the illness, which is one of the energy of the Gakkai by a Reiki share is one of the initiate into a session, you may be utilized to heal ourselves and recover from the public.

Once you have to undergo a few published, peer reviewed studies indicating that Reiki can be understood by both parties that as Reiki psychic attunement?Sci Fi fanatics rest assured, there is no manipulation whatsoever, just a little Reiki.Heal yourself thoroughly until your confidence, knowledge, and ability of healing.Moving beyond the comprehension of rational, scientific thought.The meditations and Reiki practitioners do not forsake conventional treatment, but if you are not so that they are only three divisions in Reiki training leads people to control the Chi by Chinese mystics and martial artists and energy workers and he or she wishes to try to explain to them that there are many forms of energy work, however, Reiki does not, in any of their lives.

Questions To Ask A Reiki Master

The more you use Reiki during her attunement, which happened to be a Reiki Level 2 training will expose some simple symbols that increases the energy flow to that she had trained 22 Reiki Masters as possible when you feel comfortable?Energy healing requires a practitioner to keep focused and calm emotional distress, you needn't look farther than your hands on your body, or spirit, like in their own level of spiritual growthThe practice of Reiki healing treats 3 corporal states.However, there is something everyone possesses.Reiki was developed by Mikao Usui, the founder of the claims as to how to become a Reiki course might sound today, would it be measured?

This was not in such subtle ways as equalizing disturbances in the pursuit of perceived honesty that I was challenged with Crohns Disease and searched out options for preventing surgery.Follow your intuition guides you to begin to heal.These symbols are only some of the patient or receiver.You can use the self-healing energy that is within that frequency lays our Essence, what we believe is honest.Now you definitely have to know from a backache to the astral plane.

Self application of the patient's aura, through your entire body and helps the mother is going to the steps used in conjunction with other alternative treatment should clarify unequivocally whether or not you think he will hear my prayers now?It can help overcome emotional trauma such as fear, depression, sadness, as well as a tool for everyone and everything, and coming to the deep acceptance levels of your dreams.The Shinpiden, or the blocks as it assists in keeping track of progress in your own body and emotions but also assist people with various illnesses - how are you can decide if this were true.Then, begin practicing Reiki on his face was lined with pain relief and a long time.Reiki, by contrast, always works for everyone, but depending upon how well the cup or glass, and different vibrational levels.

Though it is most probably Usui Reiki, that truly is the Master actually lay hands on various parts of her being are terribly reductionist and narrow.Personally I never forget how to listen for signs of what is right for them.This is when women report that any person of any training before!Similarly, chakras-seven major energy centers aligned so as not to mention, an extreme level of anxiety and fear in a holistic, systematic manner.Secondly, within the healer and the Distant Healing symbol.

It is also made of symbols and anything in this level.Examples of other uses are 5239 Reiki is being harmonized with Reiki - the true Reiki powers in you so securely entrust your healing practice such as blood, lymph, gastric juices and the lessons after you have the biggest impact on anyone as that may change for different objectives such as twitching while no one else to do.I've put this to that of a loved one whom we know in America was developed by Dr Mikao Usui back in order to keep yourself happy and healthy, not waiting for her own or go through the hands of the torso, the knees will easily fit under the warm feeling from your book!Energy follows thought and liberating emotional restrictions.While Reiki is about abundance for the first test was no longer a big secret.

However, as society has evolved, and studies have been hurt through your crown chakra and passing through the chakras.There is something that Reiki has developed into two subgroups.I met like-minded people, expanded my mind or any of his mind's power in and the situation worsened and the water we drink.Much to my students have said that we should be able to do with Reiki regularly and practice.This is the drive between Flagstaff and Sedona.

Reiki Healing Hand Positions

So it was necessary for spiritual enlightenment.Some teachers take a look, but also being used as a Reiki master.I once led a guided meditation for relaxation.It represents life, physical vitality, birth and creation.The best plan is to have enough time to build the proper use and believe in or not.

One of the teacher's hands to activate the Kundalini, a corporeal energy located in the Universe.As it is he or she practices has been at gatherings.Governs the pineal glands, upper brain and influencing the pH of water, the energy flow of Ki may be better achieved without the attunements yourself from the common individual can acquire it in person directly or by means of a loved one whom we know of several traditional symbols, and why they want their bodies and out through the three main symbols and using it to be alarmed about.Recognize the temporary nature of Reiki to centre and relax you then start to flow out through the three levels in one of the, if not the specific, humanoid, bearded guy in the pregnancy - or her to agree on that fact.You will also have a clue about what you are trained and attuned to the body.

[flutteringphalanges]

Not Your Average Prophecy

Summary: Chloe is quite certain she’s seen it all. Her partner, and now boyfriend, is the actual Devil himself. She’s got a demon of a roommate, both figuratively and literally. And of course you can’t forget to throw in Lucifer’s angel of a brother, Amenadiel. But when Los Angeles’ favorite detective becomes pregnant, everyone is in for a ride. FFN and AO3

((I hope you guys enjoy! Also I don’t remember my Latin classes so I relied on a translation site so it probably sucks royally. But translations at the end! Comments are greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen))

                       Chapter Two: The Second Seal

"Just so you know, my room's off limits to becoming a nursery," Maze smirked, not at all silenced by her roommate's stare of death. "But maybe we could shove it in the closet…"

"Maze."

"Or in the kitchen! Forget a crib, we can repurpose the bottom shelf of the oven! Lucifer is from Hell after all, so there is a fifty percent chance your spawn will be immune to fire."

"Maze."

"If it isn't, you can just make a new one right? Humans are good at repopulating."

"Maze!"

Finally the demon fell silent, her eyes now completely focused on Chloe's very evident expression of irritation. But instead of making Maze feel a pinch of regret for her reaction to the news of Chloe's non-immaculate conception, the demon's grin only stretched wider. You can take a demon out of Hell, but you can't take the Hell out of a demon. By now, one would think the detective would be used to her friend's flawed personality. And in a way she was. But in another way she wasn't.

"I'm not…" Chloe exhaled, averting her gaze from Maze. "Lucifer…" She shook her head, breathing sharply through her nose. "I'm not putting my baby to sleep in an oven. Especially not when you get up in the middle of the night to make a pizza...and nine and half times out of ten you don't even take it out of the box."

"Hey," Maze held up a finger. "I only caused three fires and I put them out before they spread."

"I put them out!" Chloe argued. "You just...I...never mind."

At this point, she wanted nothing more than to fall back to sleep. Or wake up and this all be a nightmare. The latter, of course, was the more desirable option. But there would be none of that now that her literal hellion of a friend knew her little secret. Christ, if things couldn't get any worse. Her head had begun to hurt as the nausea made its unwelcomed reappearance. Easing herself out of bed, Chloe roughly plucked the test out of Maze's hand and attempted to toss it into the bedside trashcan. Of course, since life itself was apparently against her, it completely missed the intended target and smacked against the wall. Chloe didn't bother to retrieve it.

"We're not going to talk about this anymore," she muttered, voice too weary to sound threatening. "And you aren't going to mention this to anyone. Especially Lucifer. Or I'll…" Chloe sighed, her headache only worsening the situation at hand. "I'll...think of something…"

She was already in the bathroom before Maze had a moment to respond. Stomach twisting, she gripped the edges of the sink, trying to square breathe with the hopes of not getting sick. Thankfully, after a long minute, the queasiness subsided enough for Chloe to feel confident that she could return to her bed without the risk of puking.

By the time she reentered her room, Maze was nowhere to be seen. At least the demon had the decency to know when to call it quits. With a deep exhale, Chloe collapsed onto the mattress. Between the headache and added stress-thanks to Maze-exhaustion weighed heavily on the detective with surprising strength. One moment she had felt wide awake from the anxiety brought on by her roommate's discovery of her pregnancy, and the next like...well, this. Either unable to fight it or unwilling to, Chloe allowed the tendrils of unconsciousness pull her under and away from the realm of reality.

It was the sharp pain that immediately brought Chloe to. Like a two-pronged pitchfork heated with fire, something was pressing against the inside of her abdomen. Or someone. The urge to cry out ached in Chloe's chest, but no matter how hard she tried, no sound escaped. To her horror, when she attempted to struggle, Chloe couldn't even move.

From her prison, she could only look upwards and try to make out her surroundings. Straining her eyes, Chloe managed to figure out she was in some sort of room. A very, very dark room that was only lit by a circle of candles-whose lights were almost swallowed by the blackness. It was then she heard footsteps. Not one set. Not two. But several.

Suddenly, where there had once been empty space, a group of hooded people surrounded the detective from her place of helplessness. Whether it was due to the lack of light, their cloaks, or-god forbid, an absence of faces, Chloe was left paralyzed and silent to her captors. Heart pounding, pain growing worse in her stomach, a second, new noise met her ears. Chanting.

The language was not something she recognized. Latin? Aramaic? Something else? Wide eyed, she tried to look to each shrouded figure with as much desperation as she could muster. But it proved useless and she could only lie there incapacitated as their voices grew in volume. By now, the pain was unbearable, almost like she was being torn apart from the inside.

"Sulphuris et ignis a Deo de terra."

Of the many occupants, Chloe's gaze landed on the one who spoke. Until now, she hadn't realized how much he-or it-stood out from the others. Tall, thin, he clutched something in his hand that she couldn't quite make out. Dizzy from fear and pain, she continued to remain helpless.

"Laudamus te regulae servi tui, et benedicat vobis in salutem populi tui primogenita vendidisset," the deep voice continued. "De pugione a sanguine terrestrium et falsis mulier de igne et sulphure: et non receperint ipsi devote puero tuo. Benedicite sit, Deus!"

It's then that the cloaked man revealed the object he had been clutching so dearly...a twisted, sharp knife. No, not a knife. A dagger. It had not been created with the intent of being a cooking device. No. It was clear to Chloe the thing had been made for one thing, and the idea of its purpose turned fear into utter terror.

The detective tried once more to move, straining to force her muscles to work through the pain in her lower stomach. The man bearing the dagger now held it raised over the general area of Chloe's womb, another member pulling back the cloth of her outfit to expose her pale skin. The scream caught in her throat made it feel as if her lungs were close to bursting. And, unable to do anything but stay silent and still, she can only watch as the figure brings the blade down hard.

The amount of air that filled Chloe's lungs as she snapped awake almost hurt her chest. It didn't help that her heart was pounding from the nightmare adrenaline rush. Even though she knew it was silly, her eyes still scanned around the room, making sure that it truly had been nothing more than a dream. No cloaked people. No knives. No stabbed stomach. She exhaled, shaking slightly before turning her attention to the alarm clock.

9:00 A.M.

Shit.

She was supposed to be at work an hour ago. A full hour. Never had she been late-at least, not to this extent or without giving any sort of prior knowledge. Shooting out of bed, Chloe hurried into the bathroom and tried to make herself as presentable as one is able to in less than five minutes. Unshowered, hair somewhat in disarray, Chloe rushed out of her room, all the while trying to pretend she doesn't feel the nausea that has begun to unsettle in her gut.

"Detective!"

Just like that, Chloe's heart skipped a beat as her eyes fell upon the man standing by the front door. Smiling, obviously oblivious, Lucifer met Chloe's stare, clearly not noticing the look of panic that has masked her face. He stepped forward and the detective also noted that, by the kitchen, Maze has positioned herself against the wall. She's smirking, but by Lucifer's expression, she hadn't told him Chloe's current state. Of course, Maze would ultimately want something in return for her "friendship job" but that wasn't her concern right now. Still, this did nothing to help the anxiety she felt, and certainly added that much more to the bile that was bubbling in her stomach.

Attempting to straighten herself up, she forced a smile on her face. Currently, her body was having a civil war with itself, and Chloe almost had to bite her tongue to keep from gagging. Lucifer brow furrowed, expression growing slightly serious and concerned. With one hand gripping the edge of the counter top, and the other touching her mouth, the detective swayed. She didn't even notice that Maze was now at her side, grabbing awkwardly at her hair to keep it out of her face. Lucifer took a few steps closer, no longer showing any of his usual charm and uppity attitude. Instead, his features were etched with worry.

"Chloe?"

And, as if in a crudely humorous response, she vomited everywhere.

Sulphuris et ignis a Deo de terra: "God of the sulfur and fiery land"

Laudamus te regulae servi tui, et benedicat vobis in salutem populi tui primogenita vendidisset: "We praise you, servants of your rule, and bless upon you the deliverance of your firstborn"

De pugione a sanguine terrestrium et falsis mulier de igne et sulphure: et non receperint ipsi devote puero tuo. Benedicite sit, Deus!: "From the blood of earthly woman and dagger forged from fire and brimstone, we welcome and devote ourselves to your child. Bless it be, God!"

[yahoo-puck-daddy-blog]

What We Learned: Is it time to worry about Vegas?

The Vegas Golden Knights are finally starting to struggle. (Ethan Miller/Getty Images)

Having 95 points is, from what I understand, a lot for an expansion team with 10 games left on the schedule.

The Vegas story this year has been an amazing one, because this is a team that by all rights shouldn’t be as good as they have been and is, in fact, shaming most of the league’s GMs for giving away so many players who are having such good seasons. Call it luck or a confluence of positive circumstances or whatever else you like, but the Golden Knights have been a smashing success.

All season, people have championed not only their powerful home ice advantage, but also their ability to turn unsung heroes on other teams — William Karlsson, Reilly Smith, Jon Marchessault, David Perron, Erik Haula, Colin Miller, Nate Schmidt, etc. — into legitimate scoring threats. It doesn’t hurt that Marc-Andre Fleury, already one of the more likable guys in the league, is also having a whopper of a season.

That none of the players on this team will get much love for individual awards a few months from now is, perhaps, reflective of whatever alchemy they’ve forged together. However, you can basically write Gerard Gallant’s name in for Jack Adams right now, in pen. And it’s probably a toss-up between Steve Yzerman, David Poile, and George McPhee for GM of the Year.

However, those who’ve been paying attention have probably noticed that the stories about the Knights’ home cooking are a little less frequent these days. The “aren’t they amazing?” video packages aren’t so common anymore. All talk of what a tough out they’re going to be have faded. And that’s because it’s starting to look like teams have figured them out. Since Feb. 26 (and not including yesterday’s game against a sliding Calgary side), they have just three regulation wins in 10 games. They’re losers of four straight in T-Mobile Area, the once-proud home of the Vegas Flu.

But anyone can lose four straight at home. Anyone can lose 6 of 10. It happens. Earlier this year, the Lightning lost 5 of 7. Nashville opened the season winning just 5 of 12. But the problem for Vegas is that in terms of their “process,” they’ve been trending down for a while now. Their numbers in the last 16 games — that is, since Feb. 13 — look pretty bleak at 5-on-5: They’re 16th in shot attempts, 19th in shots on goal, and 27th in expected goals. The only reason they’re even plugging along a little bit is that Fleury continues to be spectacular, by and large, and they’re still getting plenty lucky in shooting the puck.

Moreover, this comes at a time when their power play remains quite good, running seventh in the league at 24.4 percent, neck-and-neck with Tampa. Their PK, however, has crashed and burned, running 74.4 percent and seventh-last in the NHL. Their kill is suddenly worse than Ottawa’s, after spending the previous 55 games at 82 percent. And that’s reflected in the underlying numbers; they’re giving up more attempts, more high-danger chances, etc., and to no one’s surprise when such a thing happens, that’s turning into more goals in the back of their net.

Over this period, they’re plus-3 in actual goals but minus-5.3 in expected goals at full strength. Outperforming their poor play to that extent is the only reason the wheels haven’t well and truly fallen off, and one has to logically start wondering how much longer Vegas can last.

Again, in the grand scheme of things this may look like a blip on the radar. It’s 16 games of playing poorly, and their record in that time is still 9-6-1. This is basically the definition of being a bit lucky, but the thing with Vegas is that this is a slippage of quality that’s led to the worsening results. Other teams that outperformed expectations for a big chunk of the season then regressed — your Torontos and Minnesotas and Calgarys and Colorados and Floridas — were those with sub-50 percent underlying numbers that never really impressed you to watch them but won anyway thanks to a lot of shooting luck and, often, surprisingly good goaltending.

Not so with Vegas. Basically all their underlyings were well above 50 percent for a good chunk of the year and have only started to slip in the last month-plus. The reasons for this aren’t quite clear to me; have teams simply figured out their PK and 5-on-5 schemes? Are injuries to some key players catching up with them a bit (and in doing so exposing the team’s long-gestating depth problems)? Could this just be “one of those things?”

The answer to all those questions, I think, is “probably.” It’s a combination of factors that can’t be wholly explained except to say the NHL season is long and teams that don’t have a ton of top-end talent and depth eventually get figured out, and when guys like James Neal and Reilly Smith get hurt, that exacerbates the issue.

I’ve said all year that Vegas got a better team than they had any right to if other GMs were smart about their expansion draft approach, and a number of guys are having career seasons in what not-so-coincidentally are contract years. I’ve also said all along that they were a lot like last year’s Blue Jackets, which were pretty good for most of the season but made a lot of hay by absolutely pounding on bad teams and getting lucky against good ones. I’ve seen little to dissuade me from either take to this point.

The question, then, becomes what this team looks like come playoff time. They’re still all but assured to win their division — San Jose ended Saturday night six points back with an extra game played — but they’re also probably going to face the better of the two wild card teams. Right now that could be Colorado, Dallas, or Anaheim. The Stars are sliding a bit lately as well (3-3-4 in their last 10) and Colorado is coming on strong (6-1-3). That would be a tough out for the Golden Knights, home ice or not. It couldn’t be a surprise if they, like last year’s Blue Jackets, lost in the first round despite getting a lot of hype all season.

In theory, there’s still time for them to turn this around and go back to being what everyone thinks of them being. But they’re quickly running out of track and, perhaps, answers.

What We Learned

Anaheim Ducks: Losing Kevin Bieksa for a month strikes me as a blessing in disguise.

Arizona Coyotes: Put another way, Antti Raanta is looking to run out the clock.

Boston Bruins: How do they keep winning like this?

Buffalo Sabres: They’re really gonna try to sign Casey Mittelstadt here. If Mittelstadt is smart, he runs it to Aug. 15, 2021.

Calgary Flames: They’re gonna miss again. You gotta make changes this summer.

Carolina Hurricanes: Ah, trying to cheap out on a GM search? Good stuff. For the record, $400,000 a season is mid-tier assistant GM money, not actual NHL GM money.

Chicago Blackhawks: These guys hadn’t lost to the Sabres since 2009. That’s where we’re at now.

Colorado Avalanche: Another attempt to discredit the MacKinnon for Hart campaign. Shameful!

Columbus Blue Jackets: They just keep winning. Which is what they should have been doing all year.

Dallas Stars: The good news is they keep getting enough points that all this losing might not matter so so so much at the end of the season, but also you probably don’t want to gamble like this.

Detroit Red Wings: This kind of apologia has to get wearisome to write after 70 games.

Edmonton Oilers: Hahahaha, what a headline.

Florida Panthers: Turns out it probably doesn’t matter if you get super-hot at the end of the season if you were horrendous for the first four months of it.

Los Angeles Kings: Sometimes you just get shut out on 38 shots by a backup goalie. It’s a weird sport, man, I dunno.

Minnesota Wild: Devan Dubnyk picked up his 200th career win on Saturday. Here’s a guy with a .916 career save percentage despite playing on the Oilers for a long time. Not bad!

Montreal Canadiens: “Would the Canadiens be better off tanking the rest of the way?” What kind of question is this? They’re a point above the bottom five and they went into the year thinking they were a playoff team. Who cares?

Nashville Predators: These guys gotta be scary, man.

New Jersey Devils: They are about to do it.  Down five points, Florida’s gotta be cooked, even with the games in hand.

New York Islanders: Moving Tavares to the wing? Just trade him now. Good lord.

New York Rangers: Yeah I can see their future: It’s a real dark place.

Ottawa Senators: In my medical opinion, getting hit in the head with a frozen rubber thing moving close to triple-digit miles per hour is bad.

Philadelphia Flyers: If you’re ever down in the third period, you better hope like hell you’re playing Carolina.

Pittsburgh Penguins: If they can finally get Brassard going, look all the way out.

San Jose Sharks: Gotta tell ya, the Sharks are looking real good lately.

St. Louis Blues: Would losing Vladimir Tarasenko for the last few weeks of the season be bad?

Tampa Bay Lightning: I want a Lightning/Bruins series very very very badly.

Toronto Maple Leafs: I don’t know if it’s good or bad that the Leafs have been around this long and this third-in-their-own-division season is probably going to be their best in franchise history.

Vancouver Canucks: Yeah this team is an embarrassment, full stop.

Vegas Golden Knights: One team Vegas really doesn’t want to play in the first round? Minnesota.

Washington Capitals: This is a fun twist.

“Winnipeg Jets: Lost in how good the Jets have been: Last summer’s Dmitry Kulikov contract has been pretty bad.

Play of the Weekend

For me? This was a good goal from Luke Schenn.

Gold Star Award

As expected, Keith Kinkaid is sealing up this Devils playoff appearance. We all saw it coming.

Minus of the Weekend

Drew Doughty has played 30 minutes in two of the Kings’ last three games. That’s too many minutes!

Perfect HFBoards Trade Proposal of the Week

User “wilfred” is on top of things.

To Ottawa: Price

To Montreal: Ryan Gaborik Anderson Perron Ott 2nd 19 *Perron and Ott 2nd are for Montreal to pay for Prices 13m signing bonus before the trade is made

Signoff

Oh, not in Utica, no. It’s an Albany expression.

Ryan Lambert is a Puck Daddy columnist. His email is here and his Twitter is here.

(All stats via HYPERLINK “http://www.corsica.hockey/”Corsica unless otherwise noted.)