#a stage that has moving parts so you better know where the fuck you're supposed to be standing

[ranger-kellyn]

saw some dipshit on twitter saying they could dance around for 4 hours if they had choreo as easy as taylor did, and i'm just like……..literally get the fuck over yourself no you couldn't lmfao

[theycallme-thejackal]

Hello dear jackal! I’ve got a prompt. Could you write one where Midge bumps into Declan Howell and she uses him to make Lenny jealous?

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated T Warnings: 5x01 Spoilers

Midge isn't one to intentionally toy with someone else's emotions, but there's a certain poetic justice to both Declan Howell and Lenny Bruce being in this particular bar on the same night.

She honestly can't deny there is a certain...attraction to the tortured artist sitting on the stool in front of her. She knows that if she asked him to take her to bed, he would. Immediately. And it would probably be great.

But the problem is that she's so fucking in love with Lenny that she can't imagine leaving this bar with anyone else.

Declan watches her as her eyes fall on the comic across the room, and then he turns to look. A dark chuckle passes his lips. "Lenny Bruce, eh?"

Midge nods, playing dumb. "Yes, that's Lenny Bruce," she replies, taking a sip of her martini and returning her gaze to the man before her. "You know him?"

He shrugs. "We run in...adjacent circles. Sometimes they meet."

"Ah," she breathes. "So you know him, but you don't know him."

"Precisely," Declan replies as he studies her. Part of her wonders if he's about to take out a pencil and start sketching on a napkin. Or maybe he has some paints and will begin using her face as a canvas.

Instead he chuckles softly. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

She denies it, but she took half a beat too long to do so. Declan dips his head disbelievingly. "So I suppose I will once again fail in attempting to convince you to come to bed with me."

Her gaze unintentionally flicks toward Lenny, just barely catching his eyes before he looks away, and Declan gives her a sad little smile. "In another life, perhaps," he comments as he stands. He kisses her cheek softly before stumbling further down the bar to get another drink.

She watches him go and then looks back at Lenny, nursing his bourbon and avoiding looking at her. She steels herself and makes her way to his table, leaning on the empty chair beside him. "Got tired of avoiding me?" She asks, cocking her head.

He looks up at her. "Who says I was avoiding you?"

Midge lifts her brows and shrugs as she pulls out the chair to sit. "The distinct lack of sneak attacks in recent months was a hint," she answers as she crosses her legs.

"Where'd Howell go?" He asks, not bothering to look away from her.

"Somewhere down the bar," she answers with a wave of her hand.

"You'll catch up with him later then?"

Midge rolls her eyes. "Maybe my parents were right," she says.

That confuses him, and his brows furrow intensely. "What?"

"Maybe you are an idiot off stage."

He gives her a little chuckle. "I can confirm that is absolutely true."

"I'm not with Declan Howell," she explains. "Just...an acquaintance."

"You looked awfully cozy up there."

She rolls her eyes again. "For fuck's sake, Lenny, you're the one who left town. And tried not to say goodbye, I might add."

"So?" He mutters petulantly.

"So you don't get to be jealous when I talk to other men," she snaps, moving back to her feet.

"I didn't - " He huffs a sigh as she pauses halfway out of her chair, and she sits back down. He takes a long drag from his cigarette. "I didn't leave to get away from you," he murmurs. "I just...needed to get away from New York. Go be with my kid. Get away from the cops."

"No cops in Los Angeles?"

"There are, but they like me better."

"Lenny..."

He cocks his head at her. "Midge..."

"I'm going to ask you something, and I need you to answer honestly. No jokes, no deflecting, just...honesty." He nods slowly. "Are we ever going to get our shit together, or is this just...passing?"

There's only about an inch of space between their hands, and his fingertips brush against hers almost absently. "I...it's too late for me, Midge," he mutters. "I'm not...I'm not the man you're looking for."

"Bullshit."

"I'm not good enough for you, Midge!"

She looks at him for a long moment before sighing, "And you said I put you on a pedestal." He taps the ash from the end of his cigarette without saying anything. "So your answer is no, then. We're never going to get our shit together. It's going to be just one fucking incredible night - when you told me you loved me, by the way - and then...nothing."

His face flushes a little at that, and he ducks his head, muttering, "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"Well, I did. You want to take it back?" She asks primly.

His lips quirk in a similar way that they did that night at Dublin House - so similarly, in fact, that she half expects him to say you are lovely. "I don't want to take it back," he admits quietly.

"Good. Because I love you, too, you putz."

A soft breath of a chuckle passes his lips, and he shakes his head. "Midge, you're killing me," he groans, half joking.

"Would you rather I try a different tack? I can go find Declan." She jerks her thumb over her shoulder.

She has now intention of going home with Declan Howell. Even if Lenny pushes her away again, she's just...not interested in being with someone else. But her joke has him glowering, his eyes practically flashing green with jealousy, and she drops her hand again, letting it rest on top of his this time. "Let's try," she pleads. "Because I think...I think this could be it, Lenny."

His eyes grow teary in a similar way they did in that airport walkway six months ago. "Midge - "

Before he has the opportunity to protest further, she presses her lips desperately to his. Please, please stay with me.

He kisses her back almost immediately. Dropping the cigarette in favor of cupping her neck, he pulls her closer to him with such surprising strength that she tumbles from her own chair and into his lap.

The change in position in this rather busy bar has them both laughing quietly until it makes kissing near impossible. He buries his face in the crook of her neck and holds her body tightly against his as she tenderly strokes his hair. "I love you, Lenny," she whispers again. "I should have said it at the airport before you left. Or in your hotel room that night."

He doesn't let go or lift his head. He just inhales deeply against her skin. "I love you, Midge." She smiles and dips her head to kiss his temple.

[ticketstomydaydreams]

HOME

(All We Have: Part One)

Part Two

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson are close friends and he invites you to move in to his house while you work on his record together

Word count: 1,580

Feels: Friendship Fluff for now

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of feeling depressed

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - Home

Sia - Dressed in Black 

The Beatles - With a Little Help from My Friends

A/N: Throughout the series there will be changes to the timing of real life events like the pandemic, the release of certain songs etc. There's certain things I want to incorporate into the series, like particular events in MGKs life and lyrics from songs, so some stuff will get moved around to fit in to the story ✌️

______

It had been a long evening working in Colson’s home studio, The Boulevard, with him and the gang on the upcoming Tickets to my Downfall album. To say your schedule was busy was an understatement, but Colson had insisted you get involved with the new material after the success of your work together on Hotel Diablo.

Composing music was your main gig, you had an ear for melody and your passion for writing meant you always had lyrics swirling around your head. You had a penchant for dark and melancholy lyrics, finding music to be a source of therapy for you. It was something you and Colson had instantly bonded over. He'd bugged you to list some of the stuff you'd written that he'd know and you had gained his professional respect immediately.

He always kept a close eye on your work, ever the supportive friend and had laid claim to your piece ‘Glass House’ as soon as he'd heard it.

______

2019

You were sitting crossed legged on the sofa in your lounge, gently strumming your guitar and gazing off into space and mumbling to yourself, as you worked out some lyrics in your head. Colson was lying on the floor by your feet, scrolling through his phone with earphones in, a blunt in his hand that he occasionally passed up to you. This was a common set up, you found it easier to write in the peace and quiet and Colson has gradually started hanging out at your place more when he needed to focus on his own writing.

"All alone in the glass house, lie awake til the sun's out, pink sky when you come down…"

"Throw me in the damn flames, Bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames…"

You'd started singing out loud, occasionally stopping to scribble down lyrics and make adjustments, not noticing that Colson had removed his earbuds to listen to you

" Dude, that's hard, like, beautiful… " His comment made you jump slightly, you hadn't seen him propping himself up on his elbows, watching you intently "Sing that last bit again"

You blushed slightly, his opinion was always important to you, and started singing. He muttered to himself as you did, then pointed at you "Again!"

Letting out a little laugh and rolling your eyes, you sang again

"Throw me in the damn flames, bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames"

Colson's voice met yours at the end of the line, rapping softly "I'm waiting on the rain to come and wash it all away"

You locked eyes, smiling and he sat upright. "Dude, Im'a need that hook! That spoke to me right there, I've think got something for it that I've been stuck on"

He looked so excited, your heart did a little flip. You'd seen that writing this album had taken it out of him, he'd been digging deep and really going through it emotionally. You could tell it was going to be raw and special from what you'd heard already.

He sat forward and moved the guitar from your lap so he could lean his arms on your knees and looked up at you shooting you puppy dog eyes with those baby blues "Pretty please Y/N"

You laughed and ruffled his hair, "Anything for you Col" Honestly, it'd be an honour to be part of such a personal project, you thought

He wrapped his arms round you and squeezed,

"You're a legend, kid. Get a sample recorded and send it to me!" He grabbed your guitar off the sofa and whipped back around, strumming a few chords as he carried on talking with his back to you, leaning against the sofa "This is gonna be fire, you always just hit the nail on the head, I swear it's like you're in my head sometimes"

You smiled, seeing the wave of motivation that had struck your friend. You felt so lucky to have a friend who was not only so inspiring, but one who 'got it', who understood that music was a form of release. Someone who recognised that it was important to feel these things, rather than encourage you to push dark thoughts away with toxic positivity.

He’d pushed to use your original samples on his record, but as much as you loved writing and singing, you were a behind the scenes kind of gal which had always suited you just fine. Naomi, a mutual friend of you both, came onboard to record them with him. A decision that turned out to be golden… 'Death in my Pocket' would be born not long after, with Naomi doing your lyrics such beautiful justice yet again, perfectly pairing with Colson's emotional rapping.

______

From then on Colson had kept you close to his recording. You'd been helping here and there with composition and notation, but your production skills were what was taking centre stage during the most recent sessions. You had a long list of projects you were working through, leaving you chained to your equipment most days and nights anyway so throwing more music into your workload didn't seem like much of a big deal. In all honesty, the chaos of Colson’s studio and the revolving door of personalities that were in and out constantly, made it one of the most fun places to be. You loved what you did for a living and it never really felt like work Even though the guys were a real handful at times, you kind of enjoyed being the studio 'Mami' as they often affectionately referred to you

Everything had wrapped up for the evening and the guys had migrated back into the house. You could hear from the raucous that the drinks must have started flowing freely. You were saving your work and packing up your stuff when Colson bursts back into the studio and throws himself in a chair, spinning it around with his arms in the air.

"You staying for drinks Y/N?" he grins at you, clearly hyper and in party mode

You let out a big sigh "Urgh, I'd love to but I have an early start tomorrow. I finally managed to get an apartment viewing. I swear I've looked at a hundred places now, they get snapped up so quickly.. I've only got a few weeks left on my lease as well"

“Ah, that sucks kid” Colson empathises, spinning his chair again before an idea strikes him “Wait! Why don’t you move in here for a bit until you find a place? The guest room is pretty much your room anyway, the amount you crash here”

You laugh “This is true, that mattress is so much better than mine! Aw Col, that would honestly be so helpful, the stress of finding a place when I’m this busy is killing me. I don't know… You sure the guys won’t mind?”

Colson scoffs “Why would they mind? You practically live here anyway” he teases “I’m sure they’ll be just as stoked as I am at the thought of you joining the madhouse for a while”

Before you have a chance to respond, he stands up and throws his arms around you, squashing you into him tightly “That’s it decided Roomie. Another song in the bag and a new housemate, plenty to celebrate tonight!”

Wriggling out of his tight grasp, you laugh and in a deep voice shout “let’s goooooo” mocking his signature catchphrase. He flips you his middle finger and says “Kitchen, now”

Once you’re in the kitchen, Colson heads to get you a drink and grabs one himself. Appearing back at your side, he passes you your beer and then shouts out to the rest of the group,

“YO, meet our latest housemate, Y/N is moving in. LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO”

Everyone in the kitchen lets out a big cheer, clearly pleased as he said they would be. Colson bends down and picks you up, swinging you around in a circle, spilling your drinks all over the both of you as you shout his name in mock annoyance, between giggles.

“I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for” Rook laughs, clinking his drink against your now empty beer bottle once your feet are back on the floor

“It’ll be good to have another pair of hands around here, looking after you lot” Ashleigh chimes in, laughing and slapping Slim away as he pulls her hood up over her head, covering her eyes

It had been 5 years since you'd made the decision to move to LA, barely knowing a soul. You'd worked several jobs, jumped from place to place, worked your ass off to catch your break in the music business, sometimes feeling like the grind would never get you anywhere.

There had been times where you felt like you couldn't carry on, aching from trying to keep pace. The dream had felt like it was turning into a nightmare, as you tried to make ends meet, feeling so lonely in this enormous city.. but eventually you'd made these amazing friends who made you feel so safe and loved.

Now, there were times you had to pinch yourself just to make sure it was all real.

As you shake off some of the beer that's dripping from your hands, you look around the kitchen. Taking in the crazy, loveable bunch before you, your new housemates, you are filled with gratitude. You finally felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be…

Home.

______

❌❌ Lace up!

[existslikepristin]

What A... Bummer

Desc: The fic that (sort of) started it all. Sorry for the funky formatting, as this was mostly just copy/pasted from Discord, where I ran the polls. You may also find it here if you prefer AFF: https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1462191/what-a-bummer-aka-i-m-so-sorry

Tags: TheLounge, Gfriend, Eunha, Yerin, maleOC"you", mostly butt things, angry bunny, vote story, backlog story

~~~~~

You knock on the dressing room door. Just inside is your Gfriend... as in "good friend" Eunha. Today is a very exciting day, and it's been a long time coming. She released her first solo album at midnight and she was at the first show where she would perform it live in front of a camera.

The two of you have been close... "good friends," as they say, for a while now. And you managed to convince security to let you in so you could give her a gift before she goes on stage. After all, you're proud of her accomplishment!

You hear shuffling inside the room and know she's on her way over. You really hope she likes the present!

What was the present again?

Options: 1. Champagne, baby! You got the expensive stuff! 2. A basket of healthy fruits! You're wholesome as fuck! 3. Your buddy Yerin! Can't celebrate without a good laugh! 4. (Picked:) A buttplug?! Who the fuck do you think you are?

~~~~~

You hold the box behind yourself as the door opens. Just inside is your buddy Eunha, all by herself. Not a surprise since you saw her manager downstairs earlier.

And she looks awesome. Her hair is cut short again, just to her jawline, but instead of curling in like her normal bob, it flares out at the bottom. She's got on a white shirt, cut low enough to just tease at her cleavage (even though you happen to know she's hardly got any cleavage without the pushup). Below she's wearing a super short black skirt, with a slit on one side that nearly reaches her hip bone, but her safety shorts hide the real goods. You know she has some tall black heels for this outfit since you were there when her stylist picked them out, but she's barefoot for now, nails on her fingers and toes painted all black.

She shouts happily and jumps up to wrap her arms around you as soon as she sees you. You barely manage to keep her from dragging you down to the floor, putting your arms around her too. "You came!"

"Of course I did!" you shout, "Congratulations!"

The top of her head barely reaches your chin while she's on her toes. She nuzzles her head into your neck. Her hair dresser would flip her shit, but it's okay if it's just for a second, right?

She suddenly grabs the box from your hand. The sly little idol.

"Yerin told me you were bringing me a present. I thought she might be lying, but..."

Eunha tears the wrapping off the box. You'd be a little offended, but you did the same thing to the last birthday gift she got you.

"Now... what am I supposed to do with this thing?"

Eunha holds up the butt plug. You grin, recognizing the excellence of the thing. Stainless steel, polished like a mirror, a bright red gemstone embedded into it (and yeah, you got a real gem for it), and big. Real big.

Options: 1. (Picked:) "You keep it inside you, once I help put it there." 2. "WOAH. That's not what I thought it was, I swear! Yerin tricked me!" 3. "How the fuck should I know?"

~~~~~

"What are you supposed to do with it?" you ask as you take a couple steps forward.

"You keep it inside you, once I help put it there."

Eunha puts the butt plug up to her mouth. "Like this?" She licks it and puts it in her mouth, as far as she can at least. She looks up into your eyes, looking as innocent as she can. You would almost buy the stupid act too, but you know she's got somewhere to be.

You grab her by the shoulders and spin her around. Then you drop to your knees so your face is directly next to her ass. It takes up your whole field of vision. But still, there's no time to waste. You grab the sides of her safety shorts and yank down. As expected, there's nothing underneath and you can instantly spread her glorious cheeks to be greeted by...

Oh damn, she's already got a plug in.

Eunha giggles above you. "Don't worry. I like yours better. Help me swap them and you can keep that one."

Not a bad solution.

The plug takes a little work to get out. Eunha half-moans, half-laughs as you wiggle it back and forth to get it moving. She reaches back to spread her ass cheeks to give you better access and a fantastic view.

And eventually, with a little pop, the plug comes out. It's much smaller than the one you brought, made of silicon, and much more boring.

You stand and hold it in front of Eunha. She instantly sticks her tongue out to lick off the lube.

"It's almost like you've done this before, isn't it?" you ask with a smirk.

"It's almost like you know that personally," she says over her shoulder.

You take the brand new butt plug out of her hand and get back on your knees. Eunha instinctively spreads her ass again. You can still see some of the glistening of the lube that was there for the last plug, so it's probably at least safe to put the new one in without anything extra. Then again, the new butt plug is pretty big...

1. (Picked:) Stick it in rough. This might mess up her performance, getting you a punishment later. 2. Give her a good lube up with your tongue first. You know from experience that she loves this, and you'll be well rewarded later.

~~~~~

You know, you and Eunha have been good friends for quite a while now. How bad would it really be if you messed up her performance just this once... And besides, her cute, tiny little asshole just needs a real good stretch sometimes right?

Right.

Eunha waves her ass from side to side, bent over a bit, mostly for the presentation. "I'm ready for it. What are you waiting for?"

Well, she said it! You line up the top of the plug at her lube-short hole, earning you a sultry giggle from the idol. You give it a slow twist to one side, the other side, brace your elbow, and shove like you've never shoved before.

You're not quite sure whether or not you were successful. It seems like time slowed down... You felt the tension of her ass resisting the plug up to the widest part, followed by it giving way as it tapered back down. But that only took a second or so, and Eunha didn't react. The dressing room is dead silent.

Then, Eunha falls to the floor. To her knees, then onto her hands. You're more than a little worried, so you move to her side to see her face. Her mouth is open like she's screaming, but there's still no sound, until she whispers, "What... the f-f-fuck... is wrong with you?"

Her eyes slowly turn in your direction so you give her your biggest, winning smile. But there's fire in her eyes. You're suddenly feeling like you may have made a bad choice.

There's a knock on the door and a voice comes through, "Eunha? We'll be starting your stage in five minut--"

"I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!" Eunha screams. You hear the PA muttering as they walk away.

You open your mouth to say something, but you forget what it was when you get smacked in the jaw. Eunha is still holding herself with one hand, but the other is floating menacingly next to your face, nails looking beautiful but also ready to tear you apart.

Clearly trying to compose herself, Eunha lowers her head and whispers again, "Go find Yerin... and wait for the stage... now."

It's probably best not to argue. You get up and and make your way to the door. You turn back to look at her though. She hasn't really moved, and you get a great look at her thicc ass sticking into the air with your plug poking out from between her cheeks.

You know for sure you're going to get punished later, but you think maybe you should say something?

Options: 1. Apologize. You can admit, you fucked up. You'll still get punished, but maybe she'll go easy on you? 2. (Picked:) Never mind, say nothing. You'll obviously just make it worse. 3. Just laugh. Eunha doesn't have connections to any hitmen, does she?

~~~~~

For the sake of your personal safety, you think it's probably best to just go. You slip through the door quickly so nobody can see through the door and make your way to the stage.

Yerin is pretty easy to pick out of the crowd for you, as she's wearing her usual thick sweatshirt, plain jeans, tennis shoes, hat, facemask, and glasses that make it impossible for her to be recognized in public. She's in the back of the crowd, holding a gigantic sign that says "I LOVE YOU EUNHA I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES" as a joke. You remember the first time she said that was when Eunha was fucking her with a strap on. It looks like everyone in the crowd is too busy practicing their fanchant to really notice the overtly sexual (and nonsense) sign.

"Yo slut," you casually say as you walk up next to her.

"About time you got here whore," she says back, clearly grinning mischievously behind the mask. You smirk back.

"So, did she like her gift?"

Your smirk fades, "Uuuh. You know, she will probably have to tell you that herself."

"Mmm, I will. And then I'll take it out of her, put it back in and lick all around it... ugh, I'm so wound up. Hey. If I masturbated while we watch the stage, would you keep an eye out so I don't get caught?"

Options: 1. "Of course! I've always got your back my dude." 2. (Picked:) "You want to do it yourself? But I'm right here." 3. "Woah, Yerin. Don't be so weird. Just enjoy the show like a normal person. Sheesh."

~~~~~

You give Yerin a smirk and move behind her. She points at her eyes and swings her hand in a circle, her nerdy way of telling you to keep watch. You get the feeling she'll enjoy what you have in mind.

After a couple of minutes go by, the fans scream as the stage hands walk off and the lights go dim. You and Yerin join them in the cheer, welcoming your hot little buddy into the spotlight. Yerin holds her sign high and shouts her support.

As the lights come back up, you see Eunha, cool and calm like the professional she is, with her backup dancers. You're a little surprised (and slightly disappointed) at her exceptional composure.

The first note of the song hits and the crowd instantly shuts up, ready to fanchant like hell. That's when you seize the chance to shove your hand down the back of Yerin's jeans and pop the still-lubed butt plug (the one you took out of Eunha earlier and never did get rid of) into Yerin's ass. It slides in like butt...er.

Eunha jumps into her dance and Yerin jumps up and down with the music with no regard for your hand down her pants. You feel like you might get a rash. But either way, you soldier on and reach in further, until you can touch her clit.

There's one move in Eunha's dance that draws a big gasp from the crowd, where she bends over and presents her ass. Her safety shorts hide the butt plug... for anyone who isn't paying close attention. They aren't especially good at hiding how deep the crack of her ass is, and there's just one very slightly bulged out part.

Yerin moans back at you, "Holy shit, she is so fucking hot up there," as she grinds herself down against your hand, drowning your fingers in her juices. "I just want to sit on her face, pull her legs back and pump a dildo into her helpless butt."

You smile at the thought. Maybe Yerin will be on your side if Eunha is still angry when you meet back up, considering that she also wants to destroy Eunha's asshole.

Yerin doesn't quite cum before the song is over. You take your hand out of her pants just in time not to be seen by all of the fans turning around to leave. She groans in frustration.

"Let's run to the dressing room and see if she can finish me off. I was so close!"

Options: 1. "Hey wait. She might be a little mad. I may have done something a little mean..." 2. (Picked:) "Yeah, definitely! Let's go get those shorts off her!"

~~~~~

You confidently walk through the halls next to Yerin. The whole time, Yerin bounces up and down, distracting you with the constant thought of ass. A couple times she even turns her head, sees you staring, winks, and spanks herself. You forget entirely about the confession you considered making.

Once at the dressing room, you see that the door is already open. Weird?

Yerin jumps through the door and shouts "YEAH EUNHA!"

The display of enthusiasm is met with silence. Yerin scratches her head and walks further into the room. "Maybe her mic got stuck in her hair?" she ponders.

You walk in too. You're about to comment, but there's a sudden sharp pain in the back of your neck. You attempt to put your hand up to slap at whatever bug got in here, but your hand just falls limp. So do your legs. And your vision goes dark as you vaguely feel yourself falling to the floor.

* * *

"He's waking up," you hear a garbled voice say. All you can see are blurry shapes as you open your eyes, but they come into focus very slowly.

"Don't stop!" another garbled voice shouts, making you suddenly feel a pounding in your head. Did you go too hard on some vodka?

The voices (or just one voice really) start clearing up. You hear Yerin moaning, turning slowly into a scream. And eventually your eyes confirm it.

About ten feet in front of you, Yerin's face and torso are pressed against a bed, with her butt held up against Eunha's face. Her legs are trembling wildly. Eunha's hands are gripping Yerin's hips tight, her eyes are closed, and her legs are folded underneath her. They're both entirely naked, and you have a side view of it all.

It would be a little more exciting if you weren't chained by the legs and wrists to a wooden chair.

And you look down to see that you're naked too, other than some kind of device locked very uncomfortably around your dick.

There's a thud as Eunha drops Yerin onto the bed. Yerin is apparently exhausted by the orgasm she just had, because she's not moving.

Eunha shakes her head to refluff her hair that was being pressed against her cheeks and looks at you.

"Good morning," she says blandly.

You try to respond but your tongue feels weird and doesn't move properly so you kind of just blubber.

Eunha slides off the bed and takes a few steps to stand right in front of you. A tiny drop of her cum falls from her pussy onto your knee. Damn, they must have been at this for a while.

Her entire body is bare in front of you, practically on top of you, and it's so incredibly sexy. Under normal circumstances, this is when she would sit down and ride you for hours. But she isn't sitting down, and your dick is being painfully stopped from getting hard by the contraption it's in.

"So... do you have anything to say now?"

Options: 1. Yup. Apologize. 2. (Picked:) Yeah, you enjoyed her solo debut! 3. Nope. Nothing to say. 4. Yes.. BeGONE, THOT

~~~~~

You smirk, ever so slightly unsure of yourself, or if what you're saying is a good idea. The corner of your mouth trembles as you say, "Yeah, I really liked your solo debut. You did great up there."

Eunha leans over, putting her hands on the back of the chair you're tied to. It would be a great chance to stare at her perky little titties up close if her threatening gaze wasn't holding your eyes. Her face comes in closer. You can feel her fuming hot nose breaths on your forehead. Your own breath is caught in your throat, and your lungs start to burn with how long she stares you down.

"Be glad I'm a professional. And thanks," she says, very flatly.

As she stands back up and turns away from you, and you release a huge sigh of relief.

"Yerin, over here please. I'm going to need your tongue in my ass."

With a groan, Yerin rolls off the bed and crawls to Eunha, kneeling between her and you. Eunha leans forward, putting her hands on the bed for support. If there was any question about what your punishment was before now, it was pretty clear now.

Eunha spreads her ass, her perfectly painted black nails creating a frame for the asshole you love so much. It's only a few feet away from you. You can feel your dick trying to harden but the cage just makes it... well it doesn't hurt, but it's extremely uncomfortable.

And then Yerin's head appears between you and that beautiful butt. Her hands grip onto the backs of Eunha's thighs, squeezing the flawless flesh as if she were trying to hold herself up on the edge of a cliff. You know the exact moment when Yerin's tongue meets Eunha's ass. The shorty has a very characteristic half-squeal-half-moan that comes out of her every time something wet touches it. You might have thought you could look away to stop the discomfort in your cock, but that sound brings back too many memories of your entire face being buried in those cheeks.

"Oh... Oh yes. Good girl."

You watch as Eunha slowly pushes back against Yerin's face, over and over. It lasts for hours? Days? You could never tell. Her squeals and encouragement get louder, more urgent. You can't help but let out a quiet groan of your own.

But like the rabbit she is, Eunha heard. She twists her upper body to look at you without disturbing Yerin. "What was that? Do you want to fuck this ass? Do you-- fuck..."

Her eyes screw shut as a brief shiver of pleasure runs through her body. You can see her legs quaking for a moment. She's close.

"Do you want Yerin's pretty little mouth to dip up and down on your cock to lube you up for-- fffuck!"

Again, a shiver. It's longer this time, and Eunha almost falls, her feet sliding a few inches farther apart before she catches herself. There's a loud slurping noise as Yerin moves to accomodate the change and gets a much needed breath of air.

One of Eunha's hands shoots to her inner thigh and you can barely see past Yerin's shoulder that she's squeezing herself tight. She would often remind you about how she would do that to make her orgasms more intense, so now you know exactly what (or rather, who) is coming.

Even so, she manages to gasp out nearly a full sentence, "You want my ass clenching around your cock when--" The last word melts into one long squeal and trails off from there into a silent scream. Her whole body shakes violently except where Yerin is holding her down tight.

You could swear it lasts for a whole minute. Agonizing for you and Eunha in different ways. But when she collapses face first onto the bed, her knees hitting the floor softly as Yerin guides her down, it's over. Except for the few extra twitches when Yerin gives her ass a couple of licks. You release a long breath that you didn't even realize you were holding.

Yerin climbs up to cuddle Eunha from behind, kissing her neck, shoulders, and back. The two of them giggle lightly at the gentle touches, making no move to point their beautiful, still-wet asses away from you.

"Time for your fanmeet?" Yerin asks softly after a minute or two.

Eunha sighs and pulls herself away from Yerin. "Yes, I guess we should get going."

As you expected, you're not getting any. At least not soon. You casually watch the members making their way around the room, collecting their clothes and getting dressed back up.

And notably, not untying you.

"That sure was amazing," you say, suddenly nervous, "Maybe I should help set up the chairs for the fanmeet?"

Yerin chuckles, "They're already set up, man."

"But... the audio right? You know? Do some mic checks?"

Eunha stands in front of a mirror, brushing her hair to get it back to looking presentable. "Oh that's fine. Manager's taken care of it."

You struggle to think of something else to say, or to think of what's about to happen.

"But don't worry," Eunha struts over to you and pats your knee, "SinB will be coming in after the fanmeet to let you go."

You groan. SinB rejects you any time she thinks it would be funny, which is literally every time. She probably won't even unlock the cage on your dick.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Eunha smooches your forehead like you're a pet she's leaving home for the day, and then drops a key down her shirt and into her bra. It's not hard to guess what the key is for. "And when I do, I'll have cheered up, and I'll bounce on your cock harder than you can imagine."

Yerin draws in a sharp breath somewhere behind you. She's probably planning on being around whenever that happens. You can't help but look forward to it, though it sounds like twenty-four hours of torture for you until then.

The lovely ladies zip out of the room before you can get in another word, leaving you to the inevitable humiliation SinB will have for you... in an hour or two.

THE END

[ryuzakemo128]

The Angel Of Death

Chapter Twenty Four: Third Stage Of Grief: Bargaining

<- Previous Chapter / Next Chapter ->

Chapter Summary: Red has been going through the five stages of grief.

Trigger Warning: Mention of violence and death.

A/N: The song I had in mind while writing this was "Holding Out For A Hero" by Nothing But Thieves (The one from Vikings series 2 trailer)

Alfie continued to speak to Red even long after the incident that occurred in the warehouse in Camden Town. She didn't speak about the funeral or the fact that her secretary locked her out of her own armoury. As she didn't want to argue why she didn't fire her and the argument to fire her sounds stupid no which way she looked at it.

"You are god awful mess" Alfie says to causing Red to roll her eyes. "Tell me something I don't know Alfie," Red paced around her office, looking at the windows.

"I have been busy processing her death and it's why she locked that part of this house up. It prevented me from killing myself numerous times so far." "That part of that deal, it's not something you should have included," Alfie says to her, making her confused hearing it.

"Also that gun stole from that lady is really pretty," Red says showing off the gun, "Don't worry it's not loaded, my assistant would kill me if it was at the moment."

"Galina's office is still empty," Alfie pointed out frowning, "Why haven't you decided to replace her or hire someone else to help you?"

"I haven't decided what to do with that office. It belonged to someone I knew for a incredibly long time. So I won't be able to replace that part of the business for a long time." Red explained, "Unless I hire a teacher to make sure my guys and gals can read, write and be able to fend for themselves."

"The fuck did you just say?" Alfie responded cutting her off mid explanation.

"We taught them how to read, write and fight. If they wanted to leave afterwards, we'd find them employment if they needed it. We never forced them to work for us." Red continued to explain how their business worked, "It's how it worked for us and why it had always worked that way. It's the bread and butter of the entire operation we have going."

"Galina's death really impacted you." Alfie says sighing.

"It's called grief and it's decided to move in for a while."

"You educated people as part of a business model?"

"Yeah, to a degree where they wanted to stop I suppose, If they wanted to continue their studies. They were more than a little supported on that side of things."

"Why are you in this type of business instead of being a teacher or something?"

"It's just something I want to do, I don't do it myself and it's mainly to make sure they don't fuck up"

"So this office will be empty for quite a while then?" Alfie asked curiously, despite the fact that Red didn't like the look on his face as he asked her that question.

"Yeah, It will be until I have processed everything that has happened recently. It will remain empty."

The following weeks it remained difficult to a certain degree to keep her intrusive thoughts from peering into her mind. Thoughts like "They're still out there, the ones responsible for killing her and you're sitting here doing absolutely nothing about it"

Thomas spoke to her about grief and how he thought he wasn't truly over the death of his wife. Not that it bothered Red to hear such things, but it bothered that he didn't bother to try to seek out help for himself. As much as she would have needed it too. She would rather see him better, no matter what happened to her. In weird, dark twisted manner.

So she tried bargaining, bargaining with any god that would listen to her or even try to help her. Yet none spoke to her, uttered a whisper or called out her name in response. So she hunted the few that scattered towards her location, each kill brought them into more of a panic. She never told anyone around her how she found them after each kill.

She never intended to get further than the second as she planned that they would have went back into hiding again.

[limenysnocket]

Japanese Denim

Summary: You're free to travel with Taika again. Where to go? Think about it. For the past year, Taika has been bingeing anime non-stop, and his closet is full of the Japanese culture. What better place... Japan.

Pairing: Taika Waititi x Reader

Warnings: Baecation- fluff, swearing.

Words: 2.1k

A/N: This is for @fineanddandy 's lovely little challenge, and I've always wanted to go to Okinawa so this is an opportunity to do some research for fun and for my amusement.

@olyvoyl @honorarytenenbaum @dandywaititi @mrtommyshelby @whatwememeintheshadows​

•○●•○●•○●•

"Thank you! And enjoy your stay at the Henn na Hotel!"

"How many times a day do you get served by a fucking dinosaur? Are you kidding me?" Taika was bouncing all the way to your room. His hand gestures only got wider by the second. "And this place is desolate. I'm starting to think the robots killed everyone for fuel."

"This isn't a Y2K situation, dumbass. It's like... the aftermath of that. And if robots actually needed to travel places," you shrugged, rolling your suitcase away from divots in the carpet.

This is where you chose to stay in Nagasaki. They called it the Henn na Hotel, where everything (absolutely everything) was ran by robots. No living staff, except for the maintenance crew. Nothing. They even gave you a little robot companion in your room that was like a moving Alexa with glowing eyes and an eerie, childish voice. It would even sing nursery rhymes if you asked it politely. But as Taika had exclaimed about when he was first booking his stay at the hotel, you had the choice to check in with a robotic raptor at the front desk. Of course, there were perfectly normal human robots, but those didn’t excite him as much.

And what could make this better? It was in the middle of a makeshift Dutch theme park called Huis Ten Bosch with nightly live performances and a walk of lights that would make you think you're on some sort of drug trip.

A lot of this was weird to you. Immediately, as soon as you got off the plane, both you and Taika had to take a safety course with a few other men and women. From earthquakes, to fires, to emergency evacuations. You were thinking your jet lag was going to be the worst part of your trip. You didn't get to go to sleep until you reached your hotel room. Which was hours later.

You woke back up at seven o'clock at night with Taika passed out right beside you. Dusk was just beginning to creep along the horizon. You walked to your window and pulled open the curtains. The sight amazed you. You gathered yourself up, throwing on some clothes, then tossing a pair at your sleeping boyfriend.

Taika woke up, completely disgruntled and still very sleepy. "Babe, what the fuck," he murmured, rubbing his eyes with a palm and clearly not ready to get up yet.

“Just shut up and get your clothes on. We’re going to have fun,” you whispered through the thin air of your hotel room. Begrudgingly, he got up and started to get dressed. Just a pair of shorts, his chucks, and a plain t-shirt. Nothing too eccentric since you did not want to draw in attention. Once he was ready, you were dragging him downstairs. Outside of your building, there was a slew of people walking around. Not too much to suffocate, but enough to know that humanity was thriving outside of your little robot-ran hotel room.

Passed all the people, Taika saw what excited you. It was dark now, and the throngs of lights coating each building you saw, were now on. The virtual reality merry-go-round was up and running, and live performances went on the little stage. People were gathered around every attraction, but Taika went to the performance first.

It was all bright dancing and wild colors. People were in front of the stage, doing the dances too with some kind of glee on their faces. It really was bizarre, since you and Taika seemed to be the only ones without eye masks on.

Taika tried his best to join in with the dancing, but really couldn’t catch on. Unless it was Michael Jackson’s, “Thriller,” or something he made up on the spot, the man cannot dance in sync. But, it was still fun to watch him try, so, you kept encouraging him, even though he was a mess. It was payback for all the times he messed with you. Like stealing your favorite hoodie.

He was ready for more of the tour when he was finished, and what you figured might be your night of taking him around, turned into his. You didn’t mind. He was taking you to the places you wanted to go anyway. Through the forest of lights, down the glowing river, and you enjoyed the night water shows that were also lit up with bright techno colors. As a treat... you even let him have a look at the One Piece ship they have floating in the harbor.

Finishing up your night, you decided to take a stroll on Umbrella street. They were lit up in a lovely blue and pink color. All the stores that lounged on the sides were closing up, and there weren’t many people left lingering around the lights. Eventually, you and Taika were the only ones left. Your arm was wrapped around Taika’s, and all you could stare at was the lights. He had one hand in his pocket, and he let you lean most of your weight on him. It had only been a couple of hours since you started to take a look around, but you were tired again. The jet lag still hadn’t completely wore off, you supposed, and it showed.

“Come on,” Taika murmured into your ear, “Let’s get back to our room.”

It was another fifteen minutes before the park was totally shut down and was no longer accepting guests. You both drowsily made your way up to your hotel room, where your tiny robot friend was waiting for you, asking what time you were going to wake up. It was annoying, but the exhaustion made it easy to ignore. You got back into your pajamas, crawled into bed with Taika, and went to sleep.

The next morning, you were up bright ad early. The little robot friend on your desk still asked what time you were going to wake up. It would take care of itself, hopefully. The park was getting ready to open, by the time you left with Taika on your arm. From Nagasaki’s airport, you took a small plane over to Naha, Okinawa, where you would spend the rest of your day, walking about in your swimsuit, until the sun set.

White sand, beautiful beaches, exquisite sushi, and odd looking statues that you had to ask the locals about. From shrines, to snakes, to boardwalks, it was all here, and you were going to take in all of it. 

Instead of staying in a lavish resort for the day, you and Taika just walked, took the monorail, or took a bike cab everywhere. Most of the time you were there, however, you spent on the beach. The crystalline waters called to you from a distance, and it just looked so blue! You couldn’t help yourself.

Taika went searching for shellfish, but he liked to spend time with you in the water. It was about twenty or so minutes in when he splashed a large amount of water at you. You spluttered, since most of it landed in your face. You wiped your eyes and caught him, holding his hands behind his back and carelessly looking around as if he had done nothing wrong. You didn’t buy his act, obviously, and you splashed back at him. To him, you had just declared war, and things were going to get serious.

Waves and waves of water were sent flying through the air, and both of you were drenched in battle. With how much you were moving, you were sure you scared all the fish away from the water.

At the very end, neither of you were sure who won, but you were both happy and tired. You took the opportunity to rest on the beach, laying on your stomach on a towel and enjoying the warm sunlight while it lasted. Taika sat beside you once he was satisfied with his search for shells. You took your time to go through some of his little collection and ended up being thoroughly impressed with his find. You found a few conch shells, but your favorite by far had to be the spider conch that he found. It was small, and could fit in the palm of your hand, but you still enjoyed the shape and color. He let you keep it.

After a long day, you decided to stop in a restaurant to grab something to eat. It was a lovely mom and pop shop that was based on soba noodles and sea food. There was floor seating, or there were tables and chairs. Taika picked fast and it was right to the floor seating. Tatami matts and plush cushions provided a much cozier atmosphere than first suggested. When the time to order food came around, you both had a lot to cover. Playing at the beach worked up an appetite. The people working were more than happy to oblige to your needs and would feed you the best food anyone could make.

With your food came traditional Sake and two tiny teacups of herbal teas. With a table covered in food, and alcohol thrown into the mix, the night would last a very long time. Yet, you still had a plane to catch by the end of it. You stayed as long as possible, ate as much as you could stomach, and drank a lot more Sake than you would like to admit, but hey, you still had an amazing time. Not to mention how much attention Taika was getting from passers by. He could get quite loud, and those who could understand or speak English were drawn to his boisterous aura.

You left the restaurant, fat and happy, as well as Taika. After gathering up your shoes and changing out of your wet clothes, you took a plane to Osaka, then took the train the rest of the way to the small town of Karuizawa. Taika had booked a pension for the night, and it would be capping off your small vacation with him in Japan.

The pension was a small, red roofed building, just outside of the shopping district. Luckily, the lights were still on by the time you made it in. The buzz of the Sake still had quite the grip on you, so you let Taika do most of the talking. It took a minute, since the people running the place had to send out for someone who spoke English, but the waiting wasn’t all that bad. You got the chance to take a look at the beautiful stone garden outside of the window.

Again, the place you were staying wasn’t fancy or as nice as the robotic one you stayed in, but it was still comforting. They gave you a king-sized bed in a big bedroom with circular windows, a living room, large bathroom, and a mini kitchen. The remnants of the complimentary dinner they had served a few hours before you arrived still wafted through the air.

After long showers and setting out clothes for tomorrow (Taika insisted he wear his denim kimono), you both sat in the small living room for some time, trying to make sense of a random game show that played on the television. Taika had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his body still pleasantly warm from his shower and the rose petal soap he used tickled your sense of smell. His hair was still dripping with water, and little beads of it would fall onto his broad shoulders. Your hands were fiddling with the spider shell he had given you earlier, and you just looked on at the television ahead, struggling to stay awake.

“Doing okay?” Taika muttered to you, sounding quite tired himself. You gave him a low hum in response and tucked your nose into his shirt. You wrapped your arms around him, and he didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Did you have a good time?” He always liked to reassure himself with you, to make sure you were always happy and satisfied with the things he picked out. You gave him another hum, but in a more approving tone than last time. He blew a laugh through his nose and leaned his head back, resting it on the couch and staring at the ceiling for a time.

“Good...” he said again softly, “I’m glad you did...”

[hhjs]

rewind, revive. (all that we are.)

pairing. — kim sunwoo x reader.

genre. — angst.

alternatively. — wherein letting go is all but a reminder of why he seemed to hold on.

mystery trope!

word count. — 2.8 k

note. — inspired the nbhd's 'wdywfm' and 'reflections'. (impacting characters exactly in that order of the songs.) this is unedited so bear with me lmao

Regret is a funny thing.

One can feel it approaching light years before the realisation hits. Like squinting at dim headlights in the distance, before the vehicle picks up pace, before the tires skid against wet gravel, before it finally, finally occurs that it's too late, too late to go back and walk away, to stop oneself from facing the impact head on. From having the air knocked right out of one's lungs.

Sunwoo knows for a fact what he is doing fits that criteria.

Something about the prevailing silence that comes after heated arguments is utterly eerie; being an on and off couple for the longest time indicated that you recognised that much.

"I think we should take a break. Figure things out on our own."

He looks at the little scar you'd gotten from accidentally ramming your toe into the doorframe because you were too excited to see him. (It's healing.) No, that's not right. From this position, sat atop the sofa, when he's holding his head in his palms as your tone rises mid syllable, that's all he can see. No, he can't look at you. He can't look at himself in your eyes now, dropped way below all expectations you held to him once, silhouette of his peeved face in them leaves a rancid emotion inside his belly.

"Is that what you really want?" You ask, this time with a slight hint of surrender in your voice.

Sunwoo wants to say he doesn't exactly know what he wants, what he is feeling, perhaps it's the aftermath of working too hard, taking on too much stress, or so Changmin explained to him earlier that week, he doesn't quite perceive himself as someone who could lament his problems easily - however, it's very clear to him that he is pushing you away, sealing himself off suddenly, missing out on dates, calls and falling short in the department of being his usual affectionate self.

Or maybe, Sunwoo doesn't love you anymore.

What if he's never loved you at all? What if whatever you have is all a resultant of mere infatuation and he was too young to differentiate from the start?

Whatever it is, Sunwoo isn't too sure, but you... obviously notice. He's always finding excuses to distance himself and it's changing you, who you used to be when he fell in love with you. In fact, every day is a constant evidence of just how disconnected your relationship is from how it was in the beginning, in the 'honeymoon stage' or whatever. The way he tenses up when you throw an arm around him every night he plops down against your shared bed too late, only entertaining your comforting words with monosyllabic responses; he seems to test your patience, trying to find your breaking point.

And this is it, he thinks.

What you suggested as an innocent movie night with him, trying to get him to talk to you, about anything, anything at all, soon took a bad turn when you reached out to interlock your arms and he found himself brushing you off.

It was just the same little act that piled and piled atop all of his 'little acts' and this final blow sent everything tumbling down, all at once. The way you stared at your spread out, empty palm as you asked him why he was being like this is an image he finds difficult to forget.

Albeit he doesn't hesitate, asking you to stop nagging him, to stop overreacting. To just leave him alone.

Now, with the weight of his words absent inside, all he senses is blatant emptiness taking refuge in its place, an epiphany that he can't take back what he said.

You don't say a word when Sunwoo's reply comes in the form of an affirmative nod and what's worse, he thinks, is that you don't look surprised.

As if you saw it coming all along.

...

When he agrees to put up with one of the double dates Eric set, it's because his friends are convinced that the relationship has reached a dead end. Sunwoo ignores that idea and indulges in what he perceives as newfound freedom.

Even though the excitement of getting to know someone new is momentary, replaced by a strong underlying feeling that nauseates him. Whenever Sunwoo looks over the candlelight and watches his date smile back at him, it feels like he's doing something wrong. Something hypocritical.

Recently, every day feels the same. Every hour melding into the same old routine. This is boredom, Sunwoo tells himself, though he's positive it's anything but.

It's quite a surprise not having chanced upon you by accident, given years of dating has merged your social circles.

Really, when he thinks about it, Sunwoo's known you for the longest time.

Since he was sure he would fail a calculus pop quiz and he kicked your chair to gather correct answers, you were so shy, innocent and how that sparked a sense of adoration in him for the first time ever, since you ended up becoming best friends in spite of your essentially different personalities. Sunwoo tries to remember the exact feeling of snowflakes collecting on his cheeks, in your eyelashes, his cool fingers in his pockets, while a street light buzzed overhead - not every detail is clear - but the sight of your beaming face as he timidly confessed his feelings is unmistakable. As time passes, he tries thinking about it more and more, afraid someday he'll look back and miss out the most essential rudiments of the event. Or worse, forget altogether. It's such a distant, fleeting moment that elicits a bittersweet sensation in him. Sweet because some part of him will always be entwined with some part of you, bitter because you were no longer together.

Sunwoo shakes his head, as though the gesture ought to come in assistance in ridding himself of the aforementioned thoughts. He's the one who wanted this whole break thing, right?

He pushes his trolley around, leans on the handle like he used to as a kid and paces up through empty lanes after looking around to see that the seven eleven store is mostly empty. He successfully breezes through aisles and throws in packaged kimbap, frozen fried rice and crisps to his trolley; and then, suddenly, a juice extract shelf in the distance catches his eye.

Sunwoo focuses his vision and marks his next destination, all the while imitating low humming of a makeshift engine with his mouth.

But of course, much to his dismay, his trolley jams right into another that approached out of the aisle to his side that he hadn't kept an eye on in moving only forward.

He mutters a string of quiet apologies, bowing briefly and hoping to God that the person hadn't heard him swear under his breath. "It's alright."

Sunwoo looks up and blinks curiously recognition washing over him.

It's only been a few weeks but the sight of your face, the real thing, not instagram photos, not the ones in his money bag or photo frames in his drawer, hits him with the force of a bullet train.

Your face is bare, shadows splattered against your forehead and the tip of your nose because you're wearing his - and he only realises now - ridiculously big, pink bucket hat, a hand casually positioned into a jacket pocket, there's something so endearing about this.

"Hey." Sunwoo says.

"Hey."

You stare at him for a good second and then as if realising something, you blink rapidly, fishing out a pear extract juice to dump it in his trolley. "Here."

It is an unspoken gesture, to relay that you still remember what he likes and what he doesn't like, that you've unraveled the likes of Sunwoo, excavated all the little, measly, trivial quirks, secrets and lies buried deep inside the cavity of his chest.

"Thanks." Sunwoo just stares, entranced.

It is only when he's back home, nuzzled into the comfort of his favourite blanket that still smells a little like you, does he realise he misses you.

...

"I don't care."

Sunwoo thinks he means it, like this, when he has a hoodie pulled over his head and balances a controller with great expertise, looking perfectly unfazed by Chanhee's comment about whether or not he should invite you to his party, it almost sounds true. "I just wanna see them." He settles. Time apart only reminded him just how impatient he could be when he wanted something and wasn't getting it immediately. He is seeing clearly, you're the only constant in the overwhelming vicissitudes of his life, the only one who saw him at his worst as you did at his best and stayed. That comfort, that very familiarity, is far better than the infamous honeymoon stage or any stage, for that matter.

Sunwoo realises that now. Even if it's just a little late.

Rolling his eyes, Chanhee pushes a grocery bag containing the former's snack and tears open a packet of honey crisps.

Prior to this confession, no matter how much Sunwoo insisted that he was fine, that his stare didn't linger every time he mistook a stranger for you, that he definitely didn't pretend to do the dishes even though he refused to do the chore under any other circumstances just to overhear his friends talking about a new event in your life, or just... about you, Chanhee doesn't believe him.

In retrospect, no one does. But Chanhee is least discreet about it.

"I don't suppose that's a good idea..." He pauses, swallowing, "What if things go south?"

Beneath an act of trying to untie the grocery bag, Sunwoo contemplates that he doesn't know how to respond to this inquiry, he had pictured your next meeting many a times, prepped himself to do or say very particular things, the way you always made up, time and time again forgiving each other in spite of all obstacles in your way, to a point where you friends got tired of you going back and forth, convinced that you could never really break up... - no, he is sure nothing can change, that's a blatant impossibility, Sunwoo knows you and you know him. No matter how much he fucks up - you know he'll always come back to you.

That's how it has always been.

"Figures, huh?"

Sunwoo scoffs, noting the way his friend's expression morphes to a confused furrowing of brows. He holds the yellow classic salted packet up instead whilst wrinkling his nose more than necessary, knowing the remark would prompt Chanhee to get annoyed and forget all about his own remark. “You got the wrong flavour again.”

The older male crumples a crisp in his palm and flicks it at Sunwoo.

The answer is simple, he'll never know if he never tries. Love is not chance but a decision, love is a choice, isn't it?

Well, Sunwoo chose you, he chooses you. He'll choose you over and over again.

...

"Can we talk?"

You nod slowly, a sigh escaping your parted lips. An expression on your face that Sunwoo can't put a finger on. But he doesn't have to, not when you comply so easily, joining him out into the balcony divorced from the apartment rife with noise and evidence of inebriation.

You lean over the railing, your eyes travelling far off into the impossibly dark scenery, the silence is imbued with a vague sense of eerie, the kind that ensues before something terrible happens.

All Sunwoo can think about is how beautiful you are. Suddenly, he feels guilty - see, he can't remember the last time he appreciated you, showered you with accolades you most certainly deserve. He mimics your position, turning his head slightly to take in every detail. Committing it all to memory. Things are different now. You look different.

Last time he saw you, he could map out the swollen quality of your eyes, nails bitten and chipped, the little characteristics that gave away you weren't doing well. Now, there's an indescribable glow to your face, something under the perfectly dolled up look, the red beret on your head, matched with an utterly fabulous coat that guards you from cool autums.

It's a new outfit. The discomfort is newer.

"You look great." He finally speaks and it's not the best way to start a conversation that's dangling by its last finger, akin to an inexperienced acrobat - he doesn't know what is.

You chuckle. "Is that what you wanted to say?"

"N-no...I just.." he pauses, the words all bundling up on his tongue into one big mess of sentences that don't make any sense. When you finally look at him, leaning back on your elbows now, Sunwoo gulps, this isn't a figment of his imagination, no, this is real. It's now or never. "I'm sorry." He starts, the mere utterance of those words seem to spark no change in your appearance. As if you're waiting for him to continue. Right now, apologies just aren't good enough. "This whole thing was so stupid. Baby I-I know I fucked up but... I love you. Okay? I promise I'll do anything to make it up to you. Whatever you want."

You stare at him for a long second, just letting his words sink in but also just seemingly allowing yourself to think. Then you push yourself up, standing straighter. "You dont have to." You say simply, a hint of finality laced into your tone. All Sunwoo finds himself thinking is how you don't reciprocate, uttering the same I love you like you always did. Out of habit.

He curls his fingers into fists, knuckles whitening and whitening under the strain. His vision is a blurring film against which you look like a faint silhouette, secluded by rivulets of raindrops racing down windows. It's embarrassing, how he feels, all those bubbling emotions reduced to that of a child being denied his favourite candy.

"W-What is that supposed to mean?" He blinks, finding that you're staring at your spread out palms. Like they're evidence for something you've done.

"Sunwoo." You say. It sounds like a warning, like a don't get any closer. "I don't like who I become when I'm with you."

At this point, Sunwoo just listens. In his mind, he hadn't foreseen this. He knew it wouldn't be easy, he knew he had to try his best but...this...losing you... that was out of question. Right?

No, he tells himself, he'll fix it, he'll get it together.

"You know, I was really angry at you for breaking up with me...but it was probably for the best." You produce a garbled laugh, lifting your face skyward, looking up at the glossy layers of pollution, of purplish clouds and the barely there moon behind, like you're reading off sentences from them. Sunwoo stares at you, he wants to reach out and trace the curves of your face without thinking twice, without holding back. "We did need time to think... and it made me realise that I've always loved you more than you've ever loved me. Heck, even more than I loved myself...and... I can't be that version of me again." You sniffle, "That's not love... That's devotion."

"Hey, don't say that!" He drags his fingers up from the railing and reaches out to touch your elbow, "Come on...we-we can work it out. We always do." These words , they come out all choked up and hoarse.

You stiffen up at the sound, "You're not listening to me." You shrug him off, adamantly piloting your gaze to linger away from him, your back's turned away from him but then you pause, just slightly looking over your shoulder and your gaze softens at the sight of him using his sleeve to dab at his cheeks. The gesture makes him feel hopeful, just for a second. 

Then you sigh, shaking your head, "Don't you get it?" You say, "We can't fix this...we can't fix each other.

Inexplicably, he thinks of a perfect world, where he could go back just once, where it all started, everything before, holding his head in his hands and the little scar on your toe and is that what you really want?

This time, Sunwoo would mutter a quick no. He'd flick on the television and snuggle into your side, talking mindlessly about something that makes you laugh.  To forget all about the stupid argument.

But in reality, he lets your words ricochet off of the walls, listening to the transient beats of music pouring into the balcony when you slide the door open to let yourself out. 

It shuts.

Everything goes quiet.

And this soundlessness, this solitude, he knows this, he's heard this, he's seen this, he's felt this, this... this is final,

 this is goodbye.

[gingerweed-man]

Just finished Two Realms, apparently 100% it. I have many words to say. Here's a review.

First, is this game worth buying? Oh absolutely. It may be a mobile game but once the difficulty starts actually showing up, it is a lot more in common with an actual puzzle game and boi it gets real good and fun. Fucking loved the puzzles!

When thet fucking work. Because, dear god, this game couldve used a few more months. Do you want an example? Because I got plenty. As a matter a fact, here's a few!

Here, my character had theur individual body parts replaced by the tail, which was a sticker.

Here, a Dreamer, which are characters you're supposed to free from cages and lead to that lil stage area, was somehow detached completely from his cage but still trapped. In the second pic, notice the STAGE CONDITIONS CHANGED. Also, the Dreamer somehow escaped that little stage and is currently walking on bramble, which should kill him. Think this is wild?

IM PLAYING AS THE STAGE. EACH INDIVIDUAL PART OF MY BODY HAS BEEN REPLACED BY THE LEVEL SCREEN. AND YES, THEY SCROLL AND MOVE TOO.

Those glitches arent even the worst. They're hardly bothersome, honestly. Hell, one of them helped me. But there are some other more annoying bugs. Like sometimes, the game just super lags! It's very unstable, if it wasnt already clear. Also, sometimes your character spawns backwards which doesnt really change anything, but also changes the throwing physics. Which makes several levels unbeatable. Still, that's better than just... not spawning. Which is a thing that happens. Admittedly, that only ever happens very very rarely. With around 20ish hours, I only ever encountered that twice, and all it took was exiting the level and restarting.

Not really all that bad, because the levels are really quick to join in and the dialogue even changes so you get to experience a bit more unique content. Unless it happens during a story mission. If you have to restart one that had a cutscene before it, get ready to see that cutscene again if you have to exit. It just so happens that most of the levels where I got a glitch that had me have to exit the level- was the final set of 5. Meaning I not only had to restart all of those levels, I had to rewatch the cutscene. FOUR TIMES.

That said, they were actually fun af and I didnt really mind replaying them. It feels really good to replay stages and slowly master your route. And boy, there's a lot of ways to beat these levels. Most levels give you a set of Toys (enemies and obstacles) to use. These are random, making each runthrough unique and giving you tons of options for how to beat each level. Its honestly fun to replay stages you've beaten with a different set of toys to see what you get and hiw much chaos you can cause.

Unfortunately, it's not fun to play through stages for higher scores. It really isnt. For the first half of the game, you're gonna rely heavily on the missile launcher toy. It gives a max of 400-600 points every time it shoots, making it the best source of points in game, until you unlock the Wind Doot, which can easily get you the 2000-2500 points you need to get 3 stars on each stage with one blow, if you line up enough toys in it's path. The bomb baki is also busted. Having just one of these is a pretty good source of points, but if you ever have more than one and you trigger multiple simultaneously- I managed to get over 11000 points in seconds. They are ridiculous. Honestly, I wish there was a level editor I could just to see how much I can break the point system. Once you get to a point where you dont have to rely on missile boy for points, going for 3 stars on each stage can be super fun!

But even this comes with a caveat. You know how you get random set of toys per stage? Yeah, you can a set that is impossible to beat the stage with. This is pretty much exclusive to stages where you have to catch enemies by throwing them into a large wooden cage. You cant throw Wind Doots & the pufferfish, meaning you have to slap them into the cages. Some stage layouts make this impossible, forcing you to exit and restart the stage with a new set of toys. Thankfully, all story based stages do give you set toys, completely avoiding this.

The story isnt all that great, at furst. It really hits a bit iber halfway and crescendos right at the climax, working perfectly. I would describe the plot more, but the entire plot is a spoiler for the entire series, making plot detailing especially difficult. Lets just say, apart from tiny character moments (like just letting Click continue to exist in the town) which are moreso just not to my tastes (I will fistfight Click with any and no excuse). It was a bit rough at first, but thats oddly a running theme in this franchise. Once the plot swings at you, YOU FEEL IT. This is, at it's core, a game about loss, survivor's guilt, and people searching for answers for why things happen. And how guilt can corrupt and ruin lives. Its a game about learning to accept reality and seeing that, no matter what happens, no matter how you feel. Things can get better. Things will get better. Sometimea, all you need is someone to talk to, someone to help push the darkness out of your mind. How you are never alone. And about how much I want to put Click in a headlock. I honestly, really needed this. Especially now.

I highly, highly recommend playing through Drawn To Life: Two Realms. Despite it's many, many, many glitches, it's a sheer joy to play, to mess around with, and the story is absolutely wonderful to experience. The villain could be better, being very generic. I do love his design, Im just hoping to see more to fully flesh out his character. Do I recommend completing this game? Dear god, fuck no. I do not at all recommend completing this game, I actively recommend the opposite. Theres 54 side stages. Thats plenty of content. There's definitely enough game if you want to, but the plot is the real star and provides you some of the best stages in the game. Id say, play through some of the story stages then decide if you want to play through as many side stages as you can.

Do I want to give this game a number rating? Yes. Do I think I can? No. There's way too many unavoidable bugs to give it an 7 or above, the actual fun I had doesnt deserve anything below an 8. I can say, I do nit think it's the best game in the franchise, but it's nit the worst and it is a VERY good game. Buy it, play it, and beat it.

[littlemspeachy]

This Conversation is Getting Older and Older

Part Two of You Keep Me Waiting 

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Murder, A character is racist 

Word Count: 3.8K (Yup y’all are getting more to read)

Draco stares at where Hermione was once stood and sighed before muttering a repairing spell that fixes the broken picture frame, then came organizing his notes for Yazmeen while he was out.

"Hey, Draco, it's Yazmeen. I came for your notes on the death eater case," Yazmeen announced, peeking into his office.

Draco shot the younger girl a smile. "Yeah, I was getting them cleaned up for you. I know how much you hate having to work with illegible writing."

She laughs and shakes her head. "It's fine, you're fine. It's other people on this floor I have to worry about. But um.."

Draco looks up at her, an eyebrow raised.

"Nevermind, I'll talk to you when you get back."

Draco nods and hands over his revised notes. "Take good care of them. They're the only kind."

"I'm pretty sure that I can read your actual notes. But thank you anyway."

Draco smiles at her and watches her leave before grabbing his things and following after her.

"You know, for such a smart wizard, I came in here easily." She says coldly.

Draco pauses in his living room, unsure how to start the conversation.

"Daphne, I made it sure you could come in."

"You need to sign them," Daphne says, pulling a pen from her purse and setting it down on the divorce papers laid out before her.

"Not before my father dies," He responded, voice tight.

"I don't really care about your feelings about your father, and he's practically a shell of a human anyway. Why do you think he's back at the manor?" She shot back, staring pointedly at Draco.

Draco stays quiet because she's right: His father doesn't do anything but look outside to the garden, and he isn't improving his mother's health either in fact, she's gotten worse because of his father being back/ He was thinking of killing him, but after working in law enforcement he wasn't sure how that was going to work.

"Just sign the papers. This isn't for you; it's for me, so get over yourself." Her voice annoyed at how long this situation was taking her.

He sighs because she was right: He was being selfish. Making them stay married even though they haven't been in the same room for longer than 10 minutes in the past 8 years unless it was an event that was centered around his mother. So he walks over to sign the papers.

"Your mother misses you, you know, and she wants an explanation."

Draco pauses the signing of his last mane to look at the woman in front of him before he goes back to signing his last name.

"I don't know why you continue to visit her."

"Because at least one of us to maintain the image of a proper person. We all can't go running around like children on the playground."

Draco rolls his eyes equally as annoyed at his now ex-wife. "Listen, here're the documents, just send me an owl with a court date, and I'll make sure to be there."

Daphne just sighed and slipped the papers into her purse, and leaves through the front door. "You need to talk to her. Also, I poured out the tea. It was getting old.

Draco simply stares at her leaving, leaving his house and his life.

Maybe it was better this way.

He steps out of Hermione's fireplace and into a living room. A room that he knew way too well for simply being fuckbuddies with her roommate.

"I thought you had better wards up 'mione." A familiar voice commented from the other room.

"I did. It was Yazmeen who let him in." Hermione said, watching Draco step out of her fireplace. Fred followed her gaze and watched as Draco got reacquainted with the apartment. Draco noticing their gaze on him.

"Are you two just going to stare at me? If so, I could've met you at the train station," Draco commented, annoyed.

Fred laughs. "Some people never change. I'll see you when you get back," Fred said, smiling at the brown-skinned woman. He pauses at the door. "Keep her safe, Malfoy."

That, for some reason, catches him off guard, but he manages to get out a quick, yeah.

Hermione watched Fred leave before turning back to the blond-haired man who has moved out of her living room.

"You ready to go? I need to call a cab." Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I'm good. Don't know about you, though... Seemed a bit preoccupied." He shrugs, back turned away, looking at some artwork on the wall.

Hermione doesn't validate the statement and instead goes to call a cab. "One is in the area, and it'll be here in about 3 minutes."

Draco doesn't respond, so they exist in silence before Hermione asks, "You've been here plenty of times.. You don't stay over like you used to?"

Draco turns quickly to face the curly-haired woman. "Yeah, unlike like some of us, we have work to do."

"Now, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's obvious half your stuff isn't here, and with Fred being over, I'm going to assume it's at his place?"

All Hermione does is glare before going to look outside to her window. She notices the yellow cab outside, and instead of telling him of the new development, she simply grabs her bag and leaves but unfortunately for her, Draco is a smart man, and he quickly follows after her.

The ride to the train station is filled with tension and silence. Draco likes to think that he wondered if he overstepped a boundary, but then he remembered that he could care less about how he picked at her sex life. If she wanted to do that to him, he could do the same to her. But due to that pettiness, nobody spoke until they were on the train and even then, there wasn't much talking done.

"How are you?"

Hermione glares at him from her seat before rolling her eyes, annoyed at the question "You left me Draco,"

"You left me too; this wasn't a one-person thing,"

"So when were you going to tell me you were married?"

"I wasn't then, and I'm not now."

"Tell that to the gossip magazines."

"Tell that to the gossip magazines that wrote back to back articles about you and Krum? Since when did you listen to them? Also, when did you start caring for me outside of the bedroom?"

"I don't know but stop asking like you weren't the one knocking on my door at first."

The silence informs them both that neither of them have been good. Not that they were ever good, especially not back in college. Running to each other to find something familiar only to go back to hating each other the next day. That's what made the sex good, they both think. Too much passion made anything feel good during the moment, but it's in the morning that you have to wonder whether it was really worth it.

"So are you with him now? You hop from one ginger dick to another?

"Oh, I didn't know you were ginger, and it seems like we're both following patterns."

That one shuts him up because he realizes that he hasn't changed and only moved on to her intern, whose skin looks like the woman's sitting in front of them when the sun hits it just right.

"Also, I don't mind you having sex with Yazmeen, but having sex with every black woman in our office is.... A bit suspicious."

Draco doesn't know how to respond to the claim, so he simply changes the topic "Are you going to Harry's wedding?"

Hermione's eyes snap from the blond man to the window across from him. "Of course, I'm the maid of honor."

Draco isn't really surprised by the admission, "What an Honor. But you know it's surprising that she gave birth before being married."

"Not really.. Might have been going at it for a while, but unlike you, he can stay committed."

"What are you so mad at me for?"

"I don't know?  How about we start with the fact that you left Daphne right after getting married, only to start sleeping with me 3 months later. And then lying to her about it. She thought you loved her; I mean, sure, we all knew it wasn't going to last. But she wanted to at least make it work. But there we were fucking in the backseat while she was in the store."

"Listen, it takes two, don't pretend like you're innocent." He shot back-way too quickly for a man who wanted to seem unaffected from the claims.

"That would be a good claim, but there you were in my bed way past time for you to go, talking to me about the future and how uncertain you were and all that other bullcrap only for you to be in a dedicated marriage. It'd be a bit different if you both didn't give a damn."

Draco sat in silence because she was right. Always right.. Never wrong. Never wrong in the classes they were and certainly never wrong about the life they lived

"Well, we're getting a Divorce... to legalize the situation."

Hermione glares at him. "So that's what makes this better? A divorce after what? 5 years?"

Draco wants to say yes, but after knowing the woman sitting next to him for the past 18 years, he knows a warning sign he sees one, so he drops the subject.

They both know that they'll need to talk about this again, and they didn't need to read tea leaves for that. But just like tea, it can only steep for so long before becoming bitter, or maybe they were past that stage, and it just needed to be poured out.

The train comes to their stop, and they go to a cab that was already waiting for them; they both think that even though Sanchez is annoying and strict, he still knows how to be hospitable if hospitable meant a very homely looking hotel.

"Is this it? The place we're supposed to be staying?" Draco asked, voice full of disgust.

"Yea, this was the address given to me by Sanchez."

Hermione and Draco stared at the small white and brown homely inn that looked like its been around since the dark ages.

"Let's go. It's only a night." Hermione whispered, giving a nudge to Draco.

They climb out of the car and were preparing to go in before the driver rolled down the window. "I'm going to be here by 6 tomorrow evening to take you back to the train station and if need to floor just tell the lady at the desk and she'll help you. Good Luck."

They nod before walking in and realizing that the inside looks exactly like the outside. Homely and cold-one of the great perks of being in a city next to the water.

"Check-in for Sanchez," Hermione said, smiling at the hostess.

Draco stayed in the back and looked around, hoping to see something that would indicate the age of this inn, but unfortunately, nothing stood out but a pattern in one of the supporting beams.

"Hey, got the key," Hermione says, jingling the key in his face before walking down the hallway where the supposed hotel room was.

"15, 25, 35, and 45 is the lucky number."

"Why are the doors numbered like that?"

"I don't know you're the pureblood you tell me,"

Draco rolls her eyes at her response. "Why the hell would I know that?"

"The wizarding world is a weird place, and rich kids are supposed to be cultured," Hermione joked before seeing their bedding situation. "Of fucking course, how brilliant."

Draco was confused by her sudden change of tone until he saw what she was talking about: One bed.

One medium-sized bed in a room that was freezing cold.

As Draco starts to say something, Hermione cuts him off. "Listen, we can talk about this later," Hermione sighs before setting down her bag. "I'll go down and call us a cab to the station."

Draco watches her walk away with only her purse, confused as to why she never lets him talk. But he dismissed the thought when he casted a quick charm to keep their bags safe.

They get to the station and head over to sign in at the front desk "Officer Granger and Officer Malfoy is here to talk to... Your head officer, officer Pearce I believe, is the name, about the recent killings." Hermione says confidently while leaning slightly on the wooden desk.

"Why does he look so confused?" an officer asks while coming up behind the secretary that was checking her computer for confirmation.

"Listen, he doesn't do fieldwork; he does office stuff. This is his first time. Give him a break," Hermione confides, laughing slightly at the Blond man's facial expression.

The officer laughs and checks the computer that shows the confirmation. "Alright, let me check your IDs, and I'll get you guys back there." Draco and Hermione gave their IDs to the officer, and he nods that suggests they follow him to the back.

"Have you seen any pictures of the body? or any of the bodies?" Draco asks. He hasn't seen a dead body since the war, and even though it's been 10 years, the sight of them still can keep him up for days. He wonders how Harry moved on. He thinks he should ask him.

"No, we were only asked to get the statement from the old lady, and even then, it's a bit spotty."

"Well, can you fax a copy to our office so that we have a hard version in London? We're not going to take long." Hermione says, her voice more determined than usual.

"Yeah, I can do that for you. Alright, here's his office, by the way, he doesn't like this kind of stuff, so... You gotta be smart." The officer they were following says before knocking on a door that had the name of Anthony Pearce.

"Come in." A baritone voice commands from behind the door.

"Alright, good luck."

Hermione and Draco give the optimistic officer a nod before heading into the office.

"Hello Officer Pearce, we are investigators sent from London to talk to you about the report that was given to you after a recent murder against a young woman," Draco says, looking around the office before landing on the officer's face.

Hermione thinks that the officer looks like one of the men from Mama Mia.

"So when did they start sending in young ones with fancy outfits to deal with murder cases?" He inquired before lighting a cigarette.

"We aren't dealing with the murder it's self we're just trying to find out about the... uh.. designs being left on the bodies of the victims. I'm officer Malfoy, and this is my partner Granger." Draco shoots back at the man. He knew they were young for their field; there was no denying that, but they were good at their jobs, and there will be no one that questions that, muggle or not.

Officer Pearce raises a brow before tapping his cigarette into the ashtray. "Is that so? If you're only dealing with the designs, why do you want the lady's statements?"

"We want her statements because she was the last one to talk to the lady that was most recently killed, and she could possibly tell us some information that could help us understand what's going on," Draco responds with a slight huff.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Dracos body language 'how immature. You don't hold any power out here, pretty boy.'

"If that's the case, I could've just sent the report to your office. Why come all the way here for something we could've faxed you?" The older man responds, a demeaning edge to his voice.

"Because we're going to interview the woman tomorrow, and since we were in the city, we decided to question you directly. But if you don't want to comply, I can and will have you arrested for obstruction of justice." Hermione responds, a clear tone of annoyance in her voice.

Pearce stares at Hermione and then looks at Draco. "You should keep her around; she gets stuff done. And I'll get you the interview report, and I can't tell you anything because I didn't conduct it and what was said was nothing out of the usual... But I have received some pictures of the, uh, drawings." He says before going through a drawer and bringing out a manila folder.

"Can we look at them?" Hermione asked softly.

"I can make you a copy," He says, putting out his cigarette before heading over to the printer. "Now, why'd you come here? These murders have been happening for a while."

"It's because our office thought these were stand-alone cases. It's London.. And unfortunately, people get killed all the time." Hermione says slowly, making her seem sadder than she actually was.

"Understandable, but Liverpool does have its crime.. Luckily we're not in the city, so it's a bit easier for us." Pearce says before handing Draco the first page.

"If you don't mind me asking... Why were you so resistant to us knowing the information?" Draco asked, passing the page to Hermione.

"Because whoever is doing this is getting off scot-free. And they're sick cunts too. Imagine, instead of just killing the bloke, you carve patterns into their skin. I tell ya it's some of them, refugees."  Pearce says, handing them the next two copied pages.

Hermione looks up from the pictures. "Sir, this is obviously not Arabic. And it's interesting that a cop that is supposed to serve his community has those kinds of feelings for the people he's supposed to be protecting."

"Nah, none of them live around here, and a good thing too. Don't want them to be committing crimes and stuff." Pearce says, walking back to his desk and lighting another cigarette.

Draco noticed the fist tightly wrapped around the paper before speaking up. "Thank you for your time here, sir... If we hear anything thing new, we'll make sure to let you know."

Pearce simply nods before going off into his own world as they left.

"What a fucking bigot." Hermione angrily whispered. Draco stayed silent shocked at the bluntness of the officers' rudeness, but then he realized that his father was the same towards muggles.

They walked to the front and thanked the secretary, and then went to an empty-looking coffee shop across the street.

"My father was like that, wasn't he?" Draco asks while they were sitting down in their chosen seats.

Hermione looks up from the small menu provided at their table. "You think?"

Draco drops the subject before reaching over and grabbing the files.

"How may I help yous?" A bubbly waitress asked Hermione, almost completely ignoring Draco.

"I would like a cup of coffee, straight please." Hermione says with a smile that makes the younger girl blush.

"And I would like a cup of earl grey and some of the strongest stuff you have." Draco says dryly.

The waitress doesn't respond but jots the items down. "That'll be right out."

Draco watches the waitress retreat to behind the bar. "What the hell was that about?"

"Aww, are you mad that you didn't get attention?" Hermione teasingly giggled while picking up her well used legal pad.

Draco didn't respond.

"Hey, Malfoy, do you work with still work with ruins, or are your college years being wasted on artifacts?" Hermione asks, laying out the pictures in front of her.

"Mainly artifacts and studying the charms people put on them," He responds before the waitress came over.

"Here is your drink and alcohol, and your drink, ma'am, is still being made." The waitress says in a light, bubbly tone.

Hermione nods in recognition, but her brows stay furrowed in concentration.

The waitress leaves before Draco speaks up again, clear liquid in hand.

"Don't drink that right now," Hermione says, quickly looking up and snatching the glass of clear liquid. She sniffs if before confirming. "It's moonshine.. That's some powerful stuff, and if you want to coherent while researching, then I suggest you leave that for later." Hermione informs before pulling out an empty flask.

Draco looks at her curiously before pouring the clear liquid into the flask.

"Look, they didn't die graphically. There's no blood if that what you're worried about." Hermione says, looking up at the blond across from her.

"No..That's- I just.. If something big happens when we're on this case, we're going to become much more than researchers, and I just- I left the field for a reason, and I really don't care to be put back in. I was perfectly fine at my desk and perfectly capable of what I was doing."

Hermione looks at him deeply at him before looking back down at the ruins. "That's wonderful to know, and I understand I really do, but we've been working under Sanchez since our internships. And I know that he's smart enough not to let his head researchers go into the field blindly just to get killed. He knows we can handle ourselves out here. Meaning you gotta start trusting yourself. Plus, after this, we'll probably get a nice vacation offering once we're done, so suck it up and let's figure this out before more people die."

Draco sips on his tea, considering the words of the intelligent woman in front of him.

"Here's your coffee, ma'am... Buy the way it's on the house." The waitress interrupts, setting down the requested coffee.

Draco rolls his eyes at the "sincere" action before grabbing his wallet and handing the young woman 100 pounds. "Keep the change."

Hermione gawks at the exchange but doesn't voice her comment until the woman goes away.

"Do you know how much money that is?"

Draco sends her a confused look before replacing his wallet with his glasses. "All right, what are we looking at."

"Well, firstly, you're starting to look like Harry for one. I get you both are basically office mates but geez. And secondly, I think it's Egyptian. Like something found in tombs, but then there's more stuff that I can't really think of... Maybe Mayans?"

Draco grabs a pictured and stares before shaking his head. "Possibly, but there seems to be a mix of several curses among the charms. Those are most certainly from Egypt, and that's probably how the doctors died," He says before grabbing another picture. "Yeah, because they look like hieroglyphics, and so they decoded them and then cursed themselves. But how he got them on the body is what's' really confusing."

Hermione nods before asking, "Don't you have tea with you?"

"Yeah, but I know it's cold, and so I got a new cup."

A new cup indeed.

[hanniiesuckle17]

Bend Over Backwards

A/n: not requested but I recently was watching old cirque videos and thought of a cute idea so here ya go my lovelies.

Member: Seo Changbin ft. StrayKids

WARNINGS: Partial nudity, swearing, uwuing Binnie

Summary: You started dating Changbin six months ago and he recently started staying over at your place. You haven't been exactly open about your job with him as it can be a little intimidating. All he knows is that you are a performer as well and are always home later than him........which says a whole fucking lot and that you come home with glitter in your hair sometimes. What happens when he starts to ask questions?

GENRE: Acrobat! au Reader, Cirque de Soleil!reader

I could tell I made Changbin nervous. But nervous in a good way. (OMG SHE IS SO PRECIOUS AND HOT AND UWU LITERALLY ALL THE FREAKING TIME MATROSHYKA WHAT?)

But, lately he was anxious for another reason. It was the eighth night in a row you saw his shoes by your front door. At this point he was probably only dating me because my apartment was closer to the studio than the dorms. My watch read 3 AM. All the lights were off so I knew he was in bed already. I knew he would abuse it if I gave him a key. (Though I didn't think it would be this way.)

I took off my shoes and changed into one of Bin's big fluffy shirts. I climbed into bed with him and started to fall asleep until he instinctively pulled me into his chest. "Five." He mumbled. I hummed back in question.

"This is the fifth time you've come home late and with glitter in your hair and on your face." He stroked a piece off my cheek sleepily and held it up for me. "Is there something I need to know, Y/n?"

When I stayed quiet he sat up in bed and turned on the light on the bedside table. "I'm not dating a stripper right....I mean not that I would mind- I mean I would mind-but that's not the point." I sat up tiredly holding his face in my hands. "No. I'm not a stripper." Laying back down, I tried to go back to sleep.

"So, what do you do?" I gave Changbin a look and he just shrugged his shoulders cutely. "Bin we talked about this! I'm a performer that's all you need to know." He didn't look satisfied.

"What I WANT to know more? Why don't you want to tell me?" Frustrated, I sat up looking tiredly into his eyes. "It's intimidating, okay! The work hours are long and rigorous and my shows are a little intimidating to someone seeing it the first time."

He started playing with my fingers, which he knew calmed me down a little, before looking back up at me.

"Yeah, but what do you do?"

"You are impossible."

"Thanks."

"Not a compliment, Bin."

"Y/n! Just tell me what you do already!"

"Fine! You can come to my show this weekend. I have a couple extra tickets. Now can we please go to sleep?" I pleaded pulling on his sleeve. With a big smile he nodded pulled me back down into his chest. There was a moment of silence as he stroked my hair lulling me back to sleep.

"You being a stripper would make sex make so much more sense." There was silence after I slapped his shoulder, quite hard I might add.

I didn't hear a word about my job from Changbin for the rest of the week. Which was surprising. He didn't even say anything when I climbed into bed at 4 AM. He just kissed my forehead and went back to sleep.

Saturday had finally rolled around and Changbin and the rest of the boys had taken the day off. He insisted I get more tickets for them the day before. What he didn't realize is that we technically sold out tickets three weeks ago. I managed to scramble together seven other tickets and gave them to him before I left that morning.

Placing a soft kiss on my lips he ushered me out the door. "Go! Go! I want you to do you best today!" Changbin said essentially shoving me down the hall to the elevator. Laughing, I waved goodbye to him and then headed off to the stadium my show was performing in. Cast members greeted me with smiles and kisses on the cheek and I dropped my stuff on backstage before going out and stretching thoroughly.

Lifts and rigging were being hauled up into the ceiling for safety check and in a couple hours our large cast would go into costume and makeup.

House lights had been down for at least an hour and the show was about half way done. I stood backstage in the wings prepping for my act which came on shortly. I stood in my flesh colored bodysuit which sparkled at certain angles in the light. The harsh lines of the makeup accentuated my facial structure in the show's desired aesthetic. I climbed the stairs quietly up to the cat walk where my friend held my silks for me. Briefly stretching my head, ankles, and neck before he helped me into the starting position wrapped in the bright red fabrics.

He counted me down before moving the silks away from the catwalk so that I was hanging above the stage itself almost completely upside down. This was my favorite part. No one in the audience could see me yet, but I could see everything from up here. I loved the feeling of my muscles working to hold my body up with the help of the soft fabric.

Soon my cue came on and I was slowly lowered on stage. I was ready to perform.

START CLIP AT 3:52

The feeling of only my body being in control was thrilling and the fact that millions of eye were watching only added to the rush. This was what I lived for. To perform. Slowly my feet lowered to the ground and my heartbeat began to climb down from its high. The applause was deafening as I left the stage.

Once in the wings, I was handed water and rushed to change into my next costume for the aerial bar act. The shoe proceeded as normal and soon it was finished. The cast came out and did curtain call and then I could go and remove all of the harsh makeup. Looking down at my phone I saw multiple notifications. One from Dispatch news with a picture of the boys walking into the show. The others were texts from the boys who were completely shocked. It brought a smile to my face and I quickly removed the rest of the stage makeup.

Waving goodbye to my friends as they left I raced back out onstage. I searched for the boys who said they would wait for me and so that they wouldn't get more pictures. The stadium was empty though as I stood center stage. The feeling was weird since I was always up in the air.

Suddenly, I heard applause coming from the aisles. I squinted to see the familiar form of my boyfriend walking towards me. Laughing, I climbed off the stage and ran to him. His embrace felt better than any rush from the stage ever could. Changbin spun me around telling me how proud he was.

"You aren't intimidated?" He shook his head with a laugh, pulling away from me. "What? No! This is so cool!" He swung out hands back and forth a huge smile on his cute face. "Your everyday office is fifty feet in the air! That's so cool!" "Sixty actually but whose counting." He wrapped me in another hug planting kisses all around my face.

"So.....you want to try it?" I said motioning my head to the stage. Before crew left they had set up for the first act which was multi trapeze. "Is it safe? I thought everybody left?" I nodded pulling him to the stage. "It's safe as long as you're with me, babe."

He looked up warily at the high bars. "First, while you look very handsome in your blazer, that has to come off. Loose fabric could get caught in the rigging." I started playfully unbuttoning his shirt. "Y/n, if you wanted me to strip just ask." He retorted with a smirk.

"Come on then. Hurry up." I called over my shoulder as I climbed the ladder up to the highest platform. Soon, I heard him coming up behind me. I turned to see him clutching the small railing we had on the pole. "You afraid of heights, Bin?" I stroked his cheek which calmed him down a little bit. "Not usually." He looked down and his eyes went wide.

"Isn't there supposed to be a net!" I laughed seeing him panic. "This is Cirque. We live without nets to catch us." I jumped off the platform grabbing a farther out bar at the last moment before swinging to the other platform and landing gracefully. "Y/N I'M GOING TO DIE!"

Changbin now clung to the pole like a koala bear. "It's fine! You see down there? Those are trampolines embedded in the floor! It's how we do most of our stunts! If you fall they'll catch you!"

Pointing the the lighter black strips on the floor that were strategically placed on the stage. "MY GIRLFRIEND IS TRYING TO KILL ME!" Bursting out laughing I tried to catch my breath. I swung back out and positioned myself so I was hanging from the bar by my legs.

"Just grip the bar and don't let go. Push off from the platform!" Motioning with my hands, I tried to slowly usher Bin to the trapeze. Hesistantly he gripped the bar until his knuckles went white. "One." I counted. "Two." He said with an inhale. "Three!"

Screaming he pushed off from the platform and swung through the air. "Look at you! You're doing it.....sort of!" His legs were flailing in the air like a cartoon character. "You wanna try something else?" Hesistantly he nodded. Moving my torso I made it so out swings matched up. "On the count of three I want you to let go okay!"

"Y/N YOU ARE THE MOST INSANE BITCH EVER!" I laughed and kept the motion going. "You love me though."

"Yes."

"You trust me?"

"NOT AT THE MOMENT!"

"Trust me, Binnie. I won't let you fall."

He nodded and took a deep breath. On the count of three he let go and shut his eyes screaming in the process. He stopped when he felt my hands latch onto his wrists holding him up. He looked up at me and smiled. I talked him through how to reach the bar and I pushed myself up to balance on the small thing. Changbin sat on the trapeze gripping the rope for dear life while I stood next to him.

Moving to sit one leg on either side of the trapeze I looked over at him. "Thank you for coming." The motion of the bar blew his hair out of his face slightly. He seemed less scared and had a smile on his face now. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world." He gave me the largest smile I had ever seen. True happiness and love could be seen in his eyes. My hand came to his cheek and brought him into a kiss.

To be honest, kissing Changbin had always been my favorite thing. But, I would always remember this one, when he shared something I loved with me. I couldn't have been happier. We both smiled into the kiss and it felt even more that we were the only ones in the entire space.

He pulled away with a smile and the looked around the stadium. "I love you." He turned his head at my voice. We had said it jokingly before, but something about this time made it different. "I love you. More than anything in this world. More than anyone had ever loved before." He always had a way with words, but Changbin never failed to make me feel this way. We sat together for a moment, enjoying the sway of the bar and each others company.

"So.....how do we get down?" "We jump."

"Y/N!!! ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?"

[artificialqueens]

A dream you're having (Thorcid) - Saiphl

This is a repost of a work I’ve shared a long time ago, unfortunately and for unknown reasons it disappeared and now I’m reposting.

So, for those who are new here and haven’t read it, this texts is highly triggering and here are the warnings: gun shots, homophobia, violence and references to many deaths.

For those who already knew this text, thanks for giving it another shot and I hope you enjoy the now betaed version.

My most sincere thank you to Alexandriabelle for helping me to tame it.

=================== A dream you’re having

“How do you know this isn’t a dream you’re having, and if this is a dream, does that make it any less real?”

He woke up with the first traces of sunlight that hit his eyelids. His whole body was aching like hell.  He exhaled while moving his torso, lying on his belly as he was, it took a monstrous effort to turn to his back. It was worse when he tried to cover his eyes with his left arm, the sun outside casting a very bright light.

-What the fuck?- He mumbled, the smell of fabric softener making things confusing for him. It didn’t even smell like the one he used on his own bed clothes… He didn’t remember how the hell he got to bed, a fuzzy image of him still in drag before everything faded black. His pounding head was a reminder to never, ever drink black pearls again.  Taking a deep breath, Jamin finally managed to sit on the bed, allowing his eyes to adjust to the morning light.

A funny clock with music keys working as the actual numbers greeted him, letting know that those lights weren’t the first lights of the morning. It was actually noon and he was still confused and trying to figure out where he was. Everything was messy around him, instrument cases on the shadiest corner, clothes, shoes, wigs and pumps here and there, a comforter full of makeup and a huge mirror holding colorful pictures.  

Jamin got off the bed, feeling dizzy and realizing he was butt naked, his drag neatly folded over the only chair on the messy bedroom of what he realized was Shane’s place in Brooklyn. He catches a glimpse of his face on the mirror: smeared yellow and dark orange makeup, his lids still sticky with mascara and eyeliner, the fading shade of his overdrawn lips of the night before, and a non subtle path of hickies going down through his chest, belly and abs.

Ok, he had better mornings, but still he couldn’t help the smile spreading on his face; engaging with Thorgy after a gig would always be a blast, especially if you wake up gloriously naked on her bed and still wearing what’s left of your makeup of the night before.  Still smiling to himself on the mirror, he started cleansing his face.

- And that’s what I call a well-rested-arrogant-self-satisfied-and-totally-spent-bitch face-, Shane said, lying on the frame of the door with his arms crossed, the dreadlocks going everywhere down his shoulders, back and chest, making Jamin’s smile grow wider, just to turn and face him

-Guess I’m a self satisfied bitch right now, the Hansel and Gretel-ish path to my dick says that we had a great time -, Shane couldn’t help but smile at Jamin, with the same self satisfied expression.

-Well, if you are into fucking the dead, it was a great night- Shane answered, with that little spark of the teaser. Not noticing at all, they took a couple of steps to each other, and there was it, that magnetic force that pulled Thorgy to Betty’s bed the first time working its magic again, this time, dragging Jamin to Shane’s bed… for the we-lost-our-count-a-long-while-ago time. A tangle of limbs going here and there, soft whispers and parted lips.

==

Jamin is awake again, feeling disoriented and with a headache threatening to make him blind, he’s not sure where he is, the only thing he knows, is everything hurts… from the blinking of his eyes, to the attempts of deep breathing; but most of all, there’s something that hurts most than his body, a deep pain on his chest making him sure that anything is alright and will never be again.  He had never been a fatalist, but everything in that moment felt as wrong as a saint shooting two guns at the same time to the crowd.

His mouth was dry and his throat felt like he haven’t used it for ages, an attempt of sound formed on the back, making him sound like a wounded beast, exhaling the last of its life, a muffled voice coming from beside him, something like “he’s awake… he’s awake!”, immediately followed by what it seemed an acute beep that hurt his ears badly, making his headache even more intense.  Soon the place was full of voices and silhouettes that Jamin couldn’t see at all, he already tried to produce a word, but his voice wasn’t helping at all.

-Where am I?- he finally produced, when a soothing wave of painkillers flood through his veins, making him able to focus on see what was in front of him, the worried face of Christopher was there, who produced a little smile when he heard him talk.  

-It’s a long story pal… thank god you’re back- he said to Jamin, quickly looking to the other side in a futile attempt to hide the tears that were falling down his eyes.

After a couple of minutes, what seemed to him, like an army of nurses and doctors left them alone, and Bob took again the place beside Jamin’s bed.  -Jesus Betty, you know how to keep a bitch awake- he joked, with a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Jamin sighed, being blasted by the sting of pain on his ribcage.

-Where am I, Chris?- he asked again, making Bob exhale so slow that if it weren’t for the heavy weight Jamin felt over his arms, could’ve slapped him to bring him back.

-We are at Brooklyn hospital, J- was the cryptic answer from Christopher, that made Jamin get the chill, he didn’t remember why he could end at Brooklyn Hospital, but something in Chris’ face, told him that something was really wrong and it had something to do with the big hole he felt all over his chest.

===

Shane was pacing around like a defenseless caged animal, his face tense as the strings of his violin, it has been more than three hours since Jamin’s last call, he were supposed to reach him at the club, they had a gig together, and as far as he found himself busy doing his face and bringing Thorgy back to life, he didn’t noticed how much time passed since the tone of her cell announced that call, that made him smile.

He was about giving the thousand u turn on the dressroom when the door got opened, Jamin’s tired face finally showing through it, Thorgy ran straight to him, rushing some kisses over his face and lips -I was so worried, it’s been three hours since we spoke and…-  

Jamin took Shane’s hands on his -and I’m here… I’m sorry I’m so late, my luggage took ages at the conveyor belt and things got nasty when I came from the airport… but I’m here babe, I’m here-.

Thorgy gave one more peck to Jamin’s lips and look straight to his blue eyes, -Let’s get you ready, do your face, I’ll get your clothes hun- .

Shane’s head was running wild, but he managed to be outcoming and cheerful as he has always been on the stage, few hours later, they were heading to Kim’s place in Chicago, the car windows were darkened, so they could easily go through the streets without being noticed.  They hadn’t call a cab for some years now, it wasn’t safe anymore, but at the end of the night, they always had each other to soothe the awfulness of the world around them.

Kim greeted them with a meaningful smile as soon as he opened the door, and that was everything to them, there were still few safe places, there were so little chances to get together and feel that everything didn’t change.  That night, when they crashed on the guest room of Kim’s house, Shane kept a strong grip on Jamin’s t-shirt while he slid in a less than peaceful sleep and Jamin caressed his hair until he felt calmed enough to fall asleep too.

They have been together for some years and Jamin was worried, most of all, that the violent times they were living could reach them; by that time, he was sure enough that waking up to an empty spot where Shane’s smiling face should be, was the last thing that could happen and he was not taking that risk. He should take Shane and himself away from the US as soon as he could.

===

Jamin woke up again to see Christopher’s face again, looking even more tired and showing dark circles under the eyes -what time is it now?- he asked, still with raspy voice -it’s noon, you’ve been sleeping for a while, lazy bitch- both of them smiled to each other, too exhausted to actually laugh.  -So… what’s the story, Bob? why am I at the Brooklyn hospital with your ugly face beside my bed?- the smile on Chris’ face faded again, He stood as tall as he was, making Jamin feel small and defenseless, the hole in his chest more evident with every second passing.

-Well… guess you were fucked up enough to not remember but…- Bob covered his face with his hands, to finally look at Jamin again. -You and Shane were at this drink and draw thing you were invited to, downtown New York, many of our friends were there too- he said, starting to pace on the little hospital room -one of those radical groups found out and there was a shooting- Bob’s voice cracked, his eyes full with tears -we… we’ve lost many of them, Michael, Greg, Jaremy, Dan, his husband… they all are gone-.

Jamin started feeling numb, Michael and Greg were close friends to him, they have always supported his approach of drag, and were more than loud on encouraging him to keep faithful to his style and aesthetics. Knowing those great human beings were lost, felt like someone kicked his nuts so hard that he couldn’t feel anything else, but most of all, he caught Chris’ avoidance to mention the one he cared the most - how long I’ve been here? where’s Shane?- he asked, feeling the bile rising up his throat.

-It’s been a week, the doctors were not so optimistic on you coming back with us, J- Christopher said, in a darkened voice - about Shane… I need you to keep calm, you shouldn’t do anything stupid- he continued, noticing how his voice became lower-.  Jamin looked straight at him.

-Where’s Shane?- he asked, his voice raised in a high pitch -is he…?- He couldn’t even think on a world where Shane wasn’t spreading his light and optimism. A world where Shane will not be apprehensively gripping his t-shirt to sleep, or to kiss him good morning.

Bob took a deep breathe, unconsciously taking his fingers to press the bridge of his nose -he’s here too… - he said, after long seconds, trying to find his own words and not to hurt even more his dear friend -he’s got a couple of shots… certainly less than you got, but he lost lots of blood, and he barely made it through the hospital… he hasn’t come back yet, but with each day the hopes are less… and less- Christopher finished that last sentence sobbing.

He wished to have better news to Jamin, he wished to tell him Shane was ok, that he was going to make it, but not even him could dare to make such a stupid promise.

Jamin felt like he was going down an everlasting spiral, his head spinning madly and the hole in his chest even heavier than before, he wanted… no, he needed to see him, he needed to be with him, to hold his hand, to talk to him even if it was for a last time.  He tried to move, but his body didn’t respond, all those painkillers and what he realized at that moment that was a cast holding the whole of his left leg and the surgical pins on his right arm didn’t allow him to move at all. Silent tears flood from his eyes, making him feel useless and alone.

Christopher held his hand while the both of them cried and finally, Jamin fell asleep again so conscious of the illness of his body and how broken his heart was, the only thing he wanted was to see him, his Shane, even if it was to say goodbye.

===

Shane has never been an early bird, but that morning he felt full of energy… more than usual, he carefully left the bed, went for a walk and stopped at the grocery store to get some fresh fruits, went back home, sang a couple of songs and cooked a perfectly-done tower of pancakes, brewed some fresh coffee and went as silent as he could back to the bedroom, where Jamin was still asleep, gloriously calm and all tangled with the sheets of the bed.

That sight took Shane’s breath away, it wasn’t by far, the first time he saw the new morning feeling Jamin by his side, but this morning was very special… ‘cause that was the first morning he was able to see his brand new husband, sleeping in the place they will share for, what he expected, was going to be a long, long, long, long time.

By that time, everyone knew they were officially together, but they decided to keep it just for the two of them becoming a married couple. They exchanged a couple of silver rings in front of a peace judge, with the promise of a forever that started with them spending their first hours together walking through a winter night in DC.

Back to Brooklyn, they moved together to Jamin’s place, something that was natural after the time they had been a couple, and even when the department was a mess, Shane finally felt at home when he saw the resting face of Jamin, who started moving in the bed, looking for him on the empty spot of the bed, and finally opened his eyes, barely seeing the blurry shape of Shane on the door.

-Morning sleepy head- Shane greeted him with a full mouthed smile while taking some steps to the bed, and once on his reach, Jamin managed to pull him back to his side.

-Why are you up this early? you know, I didn’t get married to find an empty bed when I wake up- was the sleepy response he gave to him, who was already kissing his forehead and nose.

-It’s not my fault that you’re a lazy bitch, it’s close to noon and you’re still sleeping- Shane said him playfully just to tickle his ribs.

==

A sting of pain on his ribcage made him open the eyes, by that time he was already sick of being in bed, but his arm and leg will not let him go far from that place, and feeling that new burning pain wasn’t helping him at all, being alone on that room took him by surprise, by that time, Davis, Derrick, Sang and even Zavion had taken turns with Christopher to take care of them both.  The everlasting optimism of Derrick helped Jamin to make progress on getting sit most of the day, and the kindness of Sang kept his morale up high, but all of them refused to talk about Shane.

Jamin was getting impatient with that silent policy, and while he managed to beep calling a nurse, he was expecting for Zavion to go and bring him some news… whatever it was, he wanted to know about the outer world and most of all, he wanted to know something, anything that he could tell him about Shane.  Zavion crossed the door still smiling reassuringly to Jamin, but his face grew stressed as soon as he saw him

-Good Lord, Betty you’re bleedin’, lemme get a nurse for ya-, the dark skinned man ran to the hallway and was back in a second and behind the glass, while three nurses managed to strip him from the hospital robe and started working, followed a few seconds later by a doctor who decided Jamin was going back to surgery.

Zavion walked beside Jamin, talking to him and telling him everything was going to be alright. Then the elevator door closed leaving Jamin alone with the personal, feeling in pain and even more weak, the last thing he saw, the lights of the operating room fading through the plastic of the anesthetist mask.

—

Derrick and Mackenzie were  on each side of Shane’s bed, laying on that place, pale and thin, he didn’t resemble the unstoppable energy that always surrounded Thorgy wherever she went.  

Mac was fixing Shane’s nails, while Derrick spoke to him about how things outside seemed to get better, also about Sutan and Karl pretended romance and how people were rooting for it in an attempt to keep up their hopes, when his phone vibrated, making him leave the ICU room. Just a second later, Derrick went back with a worried expression and told Mac he was joining Zavion in the surgery floor… something was wrong with Jamin.

Mac sighed loudly, and kept working on Shane’s nails, thinking of something else to say, something to get him distracted from the idea of Jamin going again to surgery, of how much will it hurt losing two of their closest friends, especially after they’ve lost Nick in the same shooting.  Mac gave one longing sight to the door where Derrick walked away and went back to Shane.

-So… Zavion and Sang had a blast of a gig last night, at least, they had a very good crowd watching them and… -  Mac was unable to continue, Shane’s hand was holding his, still with closed eyes, and the slow breathing, becoming heavy.  

Mac’s eyes were wide open, and started calling for help. Mac stood outside of the window of the room, watching the doctor and nurses work their magic, while Shane’s confused eyes were looking with a note of desperation to find out what was happening.

In the surgery floor, Derrick and Zavion were pacing with a pregnant silence heavily surrounding them until a very tired looking doctor went to them. -How is he?- was the barely audible words that left Derrick’s mouth.

-It was a tough surgery, Mr. Ruhren lost a lot of blood again, we repaired his lung but we will have to wait until he wakes up to know if there’s any collateral damage, he’s weak and will be sent to ICU to get him under close surveillance- after those words, the doctor left and Derrick finally collapsed.

Zavion barely caught him, leading him to sit on a chair. -We need to stay strong D, there’s nothing left for us to do,- the southern man told his friend, still holding him by the arms -we cannot let them see us fall apart- he continued as Derrick started sobbing loudly.

-I can’t… no more, it’s like having Nick dying again, what if one of them doesn’t make it? how can we tell them the other half of his life is lost forever?- Derrick asked Zavion, on the verge of hysteria, they hugged in silence, lack of response, and losing what was left of their hope when Derrick’s phone buzzed making both of them jump…

“Thorgy’s back I need at least one of you here please”, Mac’s message caught them off of guard, but almost immediately, both of them ran to the elevator to join Mac on ICU, where they found Mac holding Shane’s hand, and whispering something very fast.

==

Jamin plugged in the lights and the Christmas tree came to life, showing sparkling colors here and there, caressing his face with the neon colors they both liked so much, it was their first Christmas married and it had to be perfect, even when he was a Jew, he wanted everything to look as bright as Shane’s pre-christmas good mood.

-Oh my God! oh my God!- was the first that came to Jamin’s ears after the door of their home was open -this is so beautiful babe, thank you- Shane told him, going to hug him from behind, pulling him close to his chest.

-Well, everything for my Thorgles-, Jamin answered, caressing the hands of his husband on his belly, they stood there, watching the lights shine for a moment.

-You know, this is incomplete, I always imagined sharing this with some loving husband while we danced slowly to the view of Brooklyn at night- Jamin said, teasing Shane, who immediately laughed and allowed Jamin to be free of his embrace.

-Dear husband, you actually have a loving husband and a Brooklyn night outside the window, so allow me to give you the whole fantasy.- Shane kissed Jamin’s jaw line and then went to the stereo, turning it on and picking an old CD from the rack they recently installed to put his collection in.  Some seconds later, Shane offered his hand in the most elaborated floriture to take Jamin’s and pulling him to slow dance to an Elvis Presley song.

They kissed in front of the window, caressed by the christmas tree lights and, still dancing, even after the music ended, even when the lights of their neighborhood started to be turned off.  

-Guess I could have this forever- Shane said, still lost in the warmth of his husband’s body,

-Now I can tell this is like the pre-christmas I’ve ever wanted- Jamin replied, caressing Shane’s dreadlocks.

Shane kissed Jamin’s lips once more and then looked into his eyes -I think… I think I’m ready.- Jamin seemed a bit confused and Shane smiled to him -we should tell our friends that we are officially married-.

Jamin smiled to him -I don’t know… I’m not ready to share you with the world, you know, I like you being just my husband… being just mine.-

Shane pulled him closer, to rest his chin on the other man’s shoulder. -Silly, I will always be your husband… I’ll will always be just yours,- with these words he closed his eyes, to let Jamin’s body fill him

-I can handle that, I guess… but only if you promise to keep being just my Shane.- As a response, Shane started kissing his collarbone.

===

Shane’s eyes flood with tears, as Mac’s whispers kept going, a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes greeted Derrick and Zavion as he saw them coming, Derrick went in without thinking and Mac kissed Shane’s cheek goodbye.

Derrick took Mac’s place and Shane spoke with raspy voice -how’s my babe? Mac told me… how is he?-, Derrick took a deep breath and spoke -he’s not so well, his lung bled again and the doctor repaired it, but they don’t know what will happen- was the honest answer he gave to his friend, who closed his eyes and sighed.

-We… we wanted to talk to you all, but seems like fucking fate is refusing to let us do what we decided to do- Shane said to Derrick, who stared at him puzzled

-What are you talking about?- he asked, falling for the curiosity.  

-The one who’s lung has been repaired is not just my partner, best friend and lover… he’s also and most importantly, my husband- Shane said, half laughing, half crying again. -Could you please ask them to put my husband close to me, as far as I can’t take care of him, I want to be by his side if one… or both of us are close to death?- Shane asked, his voice cracking.

Derrick went to the medical central to check if getting them together could be an option, as far as their condition was so delicate, and the most he could get, was getting Jamin across the hallway, to get both of them as close as was medically possible.

Even when Shane’s condition was improving, they were not so optimistic on leaving or even moving him to a regular room, his organs were still regenerating and getting him in too much movement would imply a higher risk.

On the other side, a week later, Jamin was still asleep, breathing steadier, but asleep and Shane was put on a recovery room a couple of days back, falling to his own anxiety, as far as he didn’t allow none of his friends to keep the truth away from him.

When Sang went to see him, Shane just held his hand, waiting for any news, whatever it came, but he just sighed -why do you keep doing this Thorg? things are exactly like yesterday and the last twelve hours, you should stop torturing yourself-, Sang told him, being as honest and caring as he had always been with his unstoppable friend.

Shane silently cried again, he knew Sang was right, and as much as he wished to see Jamin’s blue eyes staring at him, asking every now and then how was everything going in the ICU room, was not going to improve anything -it… it’s just I miss him so much, I’d rather sit beside his bed than staying here, being useless- Shane answered in a whisper, clearly frustrated and in pain.  

-You almost bled to death from a hole in your stomach and your right kidney is still failing, baby, you’re not so much better than him, you need to take care of yourself before trying to take care of him… you’re actually helping him by getting better- the Korean man said matter of factly, with the same ease as if he were talking to a stubborn toddler, and Shane just sighed as an answer, letting the silence rise up around them.

===

Jamin had been travelling in South America, and as much as he loved performing, he missed being at home with Shane, who had travelled to Canada few days before Jamin had to go to Brazil, they had very busy schedules, and the Christmas Tree was silently waiting for them at the same place where it lit them up to dance for that magical night.

It was December the 15th, and he had been invited to a drink and draw event, he was meant to be there by himself, but he couldn’t stand to be apart of Shane for another day, so when he picked up his luggage from the conveyor belt, he made his best to ignore the unease spreading on his belly.  As soon as he got home, Jamin joined an unconscious Shane that fell asleep on the couch zapping the TV, on the screen some random cooking show making a comfortable background noise.  

-Babe… come on honey wake up, I’m home- Jamin whispered on Shane’s ear and giving a kiss on his jawline, making him jump a little and half open his eyes to hum some unintelligible response. -Come on sleeping beauty, time to kiss your prince- Jamin said, and Shane slid his arms around his waist

-No… if I’m sleeping, the prince has to come and kiss my…- not allowing him to finish the sentence, Jamin kissed him hungrily, almost with desperation and getting a loud whine from Shane when he broke the kiss -and now you’ve got my attention, are you ok Elizabeth?-  

Jamin made himself comfortable on Shane’s arms and Shane stared straight to his blue eyes -nothing… I guess, I have this drink and draw invite, and I’m not feeling like going.-

Shane pouted his lips -but you actually changed bookings to be here for that, you should go- he said, adjusting his body on Jamin’s embrace

-I know, but I missed you much more than I wanted to go to that event- a soft smile painted Shane’s lips, and an echoing one on Jamin’s face  

-Ya’know wha? we both are going, but not before I get you-, Shane said, sliding his hand down Jamin’s pants, making him moan at the contact.

===

Christopher went down the emergency stairs taking two steps at a time, even when it took less than 5 minutes, he felt like it took hours and when he finally reached Shane’s room, bent at the waist and gasping to catch his breath, he looked at both the man, that were looking at him, with puzzled looks.  -Guys, Betty’s back! babbling incoherences about some nordic god- the tall men told them, unable to keep the grin out of his face.

Sang jumped off the chair and clapped his hands, making Shane quiver on the bed. -How is he?- Shane asked with cracking voice.

-The doctors are still checking up on him, but everything seems to be fine, his lung is working better than they expected, and that bitch was just taking a beauty sleep.- Bob half laughed, and coughed again, just to walk towards Thorgy and reassuringly take his hand. -If everything’s alright with him, they’ll take the pins off in a week, looks like the both of you made it through the worst part Thorg-.  

It felt weird to be called that way, all of them had been calling his birth name since he woke up, and thinking about Thorgy, Betty and their colorful existence seemed like a long lost dream.

-I want to see him- Shane said, matter of factly -I need to see that bitch and tell him how much I’ve missed him.-

Sang held his wrist intending to keep the man on the bed -you’re not going anywhere without a doctor supervising it, remember getting better helps him to get better-.  

Shane stared at Sang in clear surrender, making Christopher’s mouth fall open -don’t be that surprised… I can be reasonable sometimes- Shane said, getting a cautious glare from Christopher.

-I know you better than that Shane Thor Galligan-Ruhren, so I guess I should go to get some medical approval to get your ass to your man- Shane giggled as a response and then asked Sang to give him a mirror to fix his dreadlocks.

A couple of hours and a long last discussion across the hallway later, Sang was pushing Shane on a wheelchair, and he was twisting his hands in a weird way, keeping his shoulders as straight as he had a metal line guiding his back. The somber expression in his eyes fading slowly as they reached to Jamin’s room, whose voice can be heard from the hallway.

-C’mon Chi Chi, you can convince the doctor to take me there… do it for this old bitch.- Zavion’s laughter filled the place for a second.

-Not the first time you request that bro, and the answer is the same. No! You can’t get out of here. You almost died, we are not taking those risks-, Jamin grunt as an answer and then started laughing to finish in a light coughing… Shane’s heart skipped a beat when he heard him laugh… he was alive.

===

Shane jumped in Jamin’s arms, making his husband slowly awake -Thorg? what happened baby?-, a bit disoriented. Shane looked for Jamin’s lips with his own, there was something bitter and desperate on that kiss. Something that made feel Jamin like Shane was trying to make sure the moment was real, that they were together on that old couch that Shane refused to give away when they moved to their apartment.  Jamin caressed his back trying to soothe him.

Once he made sure he was on their living room, still naked and with the Christmas tree still shining, Shane sighed in relief.

Keeping a firm grip on Jamin’s biceps, still feeling too overwhelmed to speak, but doing it anyways -what time is it?- he asked, and Jamin glanced to the music keys clock on the wall.

-It’s late for the drink and draw, but a perfect time to cuddle with my husband-, Shane cuddled against Jamin’s chest, while Jamin reached with his free hand for the remote.

-I guess we both missed each other a lot more than we thought, as far as I’m unable to get away from you-, Shane said and Jamin laughed, drawing patterns on Shane’s back distractedly.

-Why did you jump like that? were you having bad dreams?- Jamin teased Shane, who got pale, almost greenish, and Jamin looked at him feeling his stiffness. -What happened baby?- he asked, starting to soothe him again by caressing his back. -You know you can tell me anything-.  

Shane buried his nose on the hem of his neck and took some minutes to make his head clear -I… had this dream, where we both were about to die, away from each other and nothing knowing that we are married, and no one allowing us to say a proper goodbye and…- Jamin reached for Shane’s chin and kissed him tenderly.

-We are ok, babe… we are more than ok, we are healthy, and together, and butt naked and… at least in my case, really horny.- Shane giggled at that statement, he was getting horny too.

-We may throw a Christmas Eve Dinner and share the news with our people- said Jamin, before kissing Shane again, who was by then pumping his shaft with a hand and making him moan.

The remote that Jamin had been holding fell to the floor, and they got lost on each other, while in the night news they were broadcasting live from the drink and draw event.

The event had been attacked by a group of extremists, the police still assessing the damages and the injured and dead people.

[betweenthesespaces]

have I mentioned how much I hate June?

all this time, and I still can't fucking sleep.

too much time to think.

I enjoy imagery. Words forming art in a way that my doubting, perfectionist hands never really could accomplish; listening to words and creating my own lines can be... toxically cyclic, though. Ruminations that won't stop. They become mantras, carved from poison.

...

They become me. At least, a ghost of a sort that doesn't really even exist. Vapors, maybe, that only I inhale. Sometimes I end up exhaling them without intending to and it spreads. I hurt others. That is my greatest guilt. To err is to be square, or some shit.

It's almost killed me, many times.

In a way...well, I guess it has. Not in the "good" way.

So yeah. Learning how to truly, really, reprogram yourself- your mind, the fucking roiling/splitting/sparking nest of wires that will not let you pass beyond the brief flash after the bootup screen without shorting out (did you give it a little smack? did you unplug it and start over again?), it isn't what I thought it would be. I don't know. I got so focused on the *ESCAPE* part of it all that I didn't think to prepare for the actual after. Things have a way of slinking back when you dare to take a breath; it leaves a trail of dark oil behind it, ready for you to slip up in it when you aren't looking because you're focused on the "how" of...not even moving forward. Of...I think just learning to exist with yourself, outside of the pressing fear. The fear will always be there, but I would rather it be a companion I idly observe and acknowledge rather than the raging, drunk, all-encompassing version of it.

So. It's hard. Doing the dailies. I am so scared of people and it took this shituation to realize how terrified I constantly am. That's not living. That's barely existing.

That's the stage I'm at in the reprogramming: lvl .05

God, people fucking suck. I shouldn't be like this. It's gotten to where I can't answer the passing, "Hey there, girl! Doing good?" and other such suches. I just can't. Sure I'm not doing well, but I mean...to put a finer point on the issue... I don't even know what I am.

To find the 'what''s, you have to kill yourself. It's a process. (Please don't literally pick up a self-murder tool and go to town. Come on. This is figurative...well, NOW it is. But still! Get with it.). Maybe it's ego death? I'm not sure and I'm too tired to wiki. But I know it involves killing yourself- bit by bit, sliver by sliver, slice by slice. Pieces that have made up this 'Whole' for your whole life. It is...it's just...damnit! you know, I had the words to describe this, but I think I've lost them for now.

That happens a lot lately. It scares me. It's a bit like being blind, I imagine.

This was supposed to be something better but I'm sick of tearing out pages. This is real. I could go on and on and on and on and slitmyfuckingwrist I'm sick of it but it's my existence. I say "I'm sorry" like passive-aggressive middle-aged overdone farmhouse chic women say "bless your heart". Fuck your LIVE LAUGH LOVE agenda, Lynda; I just want to know how to actually exist without lying to myself, you pathetic piece of not so hypothetical "tImE tO dRiNk MaH bOx Of WiNe TiMe!!!?!" sack of desperately in-denial bitch. Your Chanel doesn't cover the smell.

This is going off the rails. Choo choo, said Charlie the Train. Choo fucking choo, time to fill out the ol "Who are you?" blank.

I hope I'm funny at least.

Fuck. This sucks.

[tiedtogetherwithadagger]

Hi! What are your fave hurt/comfort fics? (With a focus on hurt!Derek and bonus points for cuddles/bed-sharing!) Thanks, you're awesome :)

Oh that’s so kind of you, thank you! First, I’m gonna point you to this list I made a while back, it’s focused on touch-starved Derek but some of the fics deal with hurt Derek and cuddles, too. This list…kind of got away from me lmao, but all of these are really good. Just depends if you want a long or a short fic.

From Ashes by Jerakeen (T 2k)

Magic hates Stiles. He doesn’t know why Deaton insists he can use it.

When Nothing Else Works by hannah_baker (T 6k)

Sheriff Stilinski is slowly and begrudgingly accepting the fact that werewolves exist, regular bad things still do happen sometimes, and his son may or may not be dating Derek Hale behind his back.

Or, the one where having Derek Hale in his bed is the only way Stiles can get to sleep. Much to his father’s annoyance.

Nitesky by thepsychicclam (T 7k)

A figure crests the edge of the house. Stiles squints in the sparse light of the half-moon, and is shocked when he sees that it’s Derek.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asks quietly.

Derek finishes climbing up onto the roof in one graceful swoop, and then he crosses the slanted surface quickly.

“This is dangerous,” Derek greets as he takes the spot beside Stiles. “You could fall and break your neck.”

Stiles has trouble dealing with the after effects of the nogitsune, and Derek finds him sitting on his roof.

Like a Melody (it won’t leave my head) by Jerakeen (T 8k)

Stiles doesn’t notice the constant buzzing in his head until it’s gone.

The Witching Hour by MellytheHun (T 8k)

The radio host AU no one ever asked for but I have written anyway because sometimes when DJ’s play several sad songs in a row, I worry about their mental health and then this AU was born

Satisfactory Compromises by TroubleIWant (M 17k)

Stiles is basically doing fine. He’s surviving, anyways. So what if it’s a struggle to get out of bed most days? Back in high school, everything about the supernatural had seemed edgy and romantic and exhilarating, but after seeing everything he has, wanting to go back to ignorance is only natural. Only then Derek comes back to Beacon Hills and says he’s in love with him, and everything changes.

For the worse.

The Boy Next Door by Benaya, PencilTrash (T 21k, 8/9 chapters)

“Who?”

Deaton looked at Stiles, forehead wrinkling as he suffered the boy’s never ending curiosity. “My boss,” he answered. “The owner has decided to move in finally.”

“Wha-” Stiles choked on his next bite. “The… the Hales?” He coughed, eyes widening. “But I don’t remember them dropping in here ever, since I was - like, spoiling my diapers.”

Deaton sighed, moving behind the sofa, still cleaning. Stiles strained his neck to follow his path.

“It’s just Derek now.” Something flashed across Deaton’s usually stoic face as he mumbled out the words; sadness, Stiles thought, pity.

Inertia by apocryphal (M 21k)

The last thing Derek and Cora are expecting to find outside their motel room is a gaunt Stiles Stilinski, lacrosse bag on one shoulder and the weight of the world on the other.

Hitchhiker by exclamation (T 33k)

Derek returns to Beacon Hills to find Stiles possessed by a spirit that can take over his body at will. Anything Derek does to hurt the spirit will only hurt Stiles, so Derek offers himself in exchange. When the spirit realises how much Derek cares, it uses this to manipulate Derek into helping, with the promise of Stiles’ freedom as leverage.

The two end up travelling across country in Stiles’ jeep. The journey stirs up issues for both Stiles and Derek, and brings previously hidden emotions to the light.

Pulling the Pieces Together by fireflystiles (cuddlehazz) (T 34k)

“You never have hurt anyone. Not then and not now. You just made Coach piss his pants and that’s funny shit there.” Jackson told Stiles. They all underestimated how responsible Stiles felt for the Nogitsune and what happened. No wonder he was afraid to go near the pack, not to mention the whole no control over magic thing. He felt Stiles huff out a breath at the part about Coach which was a good start.

Or after the Nogitsune, Stiles keeps secrets, there are new people in Beacon Hills, and the Pack has fallen apart. Stiles starts to figure out his role in the pack, piecing it back together, and trying to keep everyone safe.

After The Storm by matildajones (M 41k)

Derek’s mind flits to Stiles’ face. It’s a hard face to forget and for some reason Stiles is one of the only things Derek can think about without feeling like he’s lost something.

Erica grins. “When are you going to see him next?”

“He’s a cop,” Derek says gruffly.

“So?”

Derek remembers being at the station, he remembers all those fucking people who thought he had killed his own sister. Laura. He hates all of them, and says as much aloud.

Erica hums. “Sounded like you didn’t hate him.”

–

Dealing with the death of his sister, Derek spends most of his time helping out his family. He meets Stiles and as soon as Derek’s willing to admit his attraction towards him, he discovers that Stiles is dealing with his own problems at work. He needs help - help that Derek’s all too willing to give. There’s something about Derek with his strange, glowing eyes and quick ability to heal that makes Stiles trust him when maybe he shouldn’t.

Okay Will Get Us Through by clotpolesonly (M 42k)

It was supposed to be a peaceful fucking protest. Stiles heard the first shot loud and clear, though, and was too boxed in to duck, even as his stomach felt like it fell out of his body entirely. For a second all he could think was “Scott is gonna be so mad, I said it would be fine, I promised,” and then he was falling. 

If You’re Going Through Hell (Keep Going) by orphan_account (T 48k)

Stiles thought everything leading up to Allison’s death was hell, but he was wrong. Spending senior year dealing with the pack’s dismissal of him while secretly training to be Deaton’s replacement was hell. Feeling guilty and hating himself for what the Nogitsune did was hell. Being in love with someone who would never love him back was hell. Well, if you’re going through hell, keep going.

*It’s been a while since I’ve read this one so I don’t remember much. It’s not very Scott friendly, just to warn you.

Wood and Nails by rabbitxheart (M 50k)

”The five stages of grief,” Stiles nods and sighs. They’ve both seen it, been through it. Heard them repeated by therapist after therapist. Stiles doesn’t say anything, but they both know which one Derek’s slipped into by now.

***

When things calm down in Beacon Hills, all the things Derek hasn’t dealt with come back with a vengeance. Stiles does his best to help him.

Sanctuary by darkmagess (M 63k)

Starts where 3B stops, with Kate attacking Derek in the loft. She kidnaps him to Mexico, and Stiles, Scott, and Lydia rush to find him before Kate can inflict too much damage. She inflicts enough, and Derek retreats into his mind to escape the horrors of his situation. The Derek they find is not the one that left Beacon Hills. 

The Moon’s Gonna Follow Me Home by turningterrific (E 82k)

Derek doesn’t want to call the window repair guy. He doesn’t want to sweep up the glass. He’ll inevitably miss a few shards and pull them out of the bottom of his bare feet for weeks.

He doesn’t want to try to make this place feel like home when it isn’t.

Derek stayed in Beacon Hills and tried to make it work because he wanted pack, wanted purpose. He gave his best effort and found himself back where he started: alone, with a few begrudging allies. He’s tired, and even though his werewolf body heals quickly, he feels the weary ache down to his center.

He packs his car with the few things he cares about enough to drag them from place to place. He locks the loft and calls a realtor about listing the building he’d bought in a misguided attempt to secure a future.

And then he leaves.

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam (E 105k)

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void.

It’s Stiles’ senior year, and he’s trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he’s being haunted by a hag. Great.

My fanfic rec requests are always open.

[ruffoverthinksthings]

I'm dying to know about the interactions between Claudine and Phoebus. Knowing them, I feel that it would be a mixture of hilarious hashing about life and routine vs. a hit-and-miss about the best courses of action regarding the VKs. After what Claudine's gone through, how would Phoebus' humor be effective? Especially with Claudine. Btw, you're awesome, keep on turning out the headcanons. You're doing better than the actual canon material.

God Help The Outcasts (Part 3): The Traitor

Warning: Referencesto Past Sexual Abuse.

Claudine’s bigpublic outburst obviously had massive consequences, reaching far pasther getting dragged off-stage, the sanctions on her permanent recordand her probation in Auradon, and extra Remedial Goodness classeswith Quasimodo.

On a larger scale,it opens up a massive rift in the public, split between those thatsay she was completely out of line for exploding like that and usingso much profanity and rudeness (in front of children, no less), andthose that believe she was completely justified, as they had beenusing the “proper channels” to communicate with the governmentand had either gotten apologies before being ignored, or wereoutright oppressed as with the case of the Magic Ban.

In the words of oneof Claudine’s sympathizers, “She was just making sure youcould hear her now!”

Either way, she’scharged with disruption of the peace, obscenity, and corruption ofminors.

Because of thespecial and highly politically charged nature of a VK being taken infor a crime/s,* she gets sent to a very high ranking member of theRoyal Guard who has experience handling “crossing a minefield,whilst blindfolded, dizzy, and drunk” cases:

Captain Phoebus ofFrance.

For logistical andconvenience reasons, he flies in all the way to Auradon Prep, wherethey meet at the interrogation room of a local garrison. The air ismusty, the furniture old and long unused, and the whole place wasobviously just cleaned since its last use a couple of months to ayear back.

Claudine is escortedin without handcuffs, and at Phoebus request, her guards aredismissed, leaving the two of them alone but for the camera, and thestenographer and emergency guards watching behind a one-way glass.

“Do you know whyyou’re here?” Phoebus asks, his expression and tone completelyserious.

“Because I calledout your whole society on their bullshit?” Claudine replies.

“No, you’re herebecause of your fashion choices: it’s illegal to show thatmuch skin. Do you realize how many pedestrian and vehicularaccidents you could have caused just by walking by?”

Claudine blinks.“What.”

Phoebus smiles.“That was a joke. In all seriousness, though, you are in bigtrouble for that tirade you had yesterday—excellent choice ofwords, by the way, never heard those specific combinations of cursesand insults before, they made quite the impact.”

“You learn a loton the Isle,” Claudine replies flatly. “And I’m not apologizingfor it, if that’s what you’re getting at! Throw me back on theIsle for all I care, I’d rather be back there eating garbage, thanbe a bunch of fucking Pharisees like majority of the ‘Good’people running around here!”

“I expected asmuch, which is why I’m here to offer you a deal.”

Claudine sighs, andstarts unbuttoning her shirt even more than it already is. “So longas I don’t have to swallow, pretend you’re amazing, or fake anorgasm…”

Phoebus looks awayand shields his eyes. “Not that kind of deal! Please, buttonyour shirt back up.”

Claudine laughs.“Why? Afraid your wife will find out her tits have gotten too oldfor you?”

“No, because one,I respect you too much to let you degrade yourself like this, two, Ilike being the guy that puts people into jail, not being the guybehind bars, and three, my wife’s breasts are perfect, andI’ll never want for anything more than what she has, thank you verymuch!

“Now would youplease make yourself decent again…?”

Claudine sighsheavily. “Alright…”

A few moments ofsilence and shuffling.

“You’re stilltopless, aren’t you?”

Claudine smirks.“How’d you know?”

“I’ve got asixth sense for whether or not a woman is in a state of undress;blame a wife who likes to lounge around the house completely naked.”

“You luckybastard, you,” Claudine says flatly.

Phoebus smiles. “Iknow, I still can’t believe it myself! Anyway, about that deal Imentioned, one that does not in fact involve you getting naked nor usdoing the do-diddly-dangeroo…”

Claudine sniggered.“That is the dumbest fucking innuendo for ‘fucking’ I have everheard.”

“Ah, but it madeyou laugh, didn’t it?” Phoebus says, pointing a finger at her.

“Only because itwas so offensive I have to laugh to keep myself from dyinginside.”

“Touché, but Istill count that as a win. Now, do I throw out some more jokes andtry to make you laugh, or do you want to get serious and hear out myoffer?”

“I can’t takeyou seriously if you can’t even look me in the eyes, ‘Captain,’”Claudine says playfully.

“I will onceyou’ve put your clothes back on.”

Claudine sighs.“Fine.” A brief moment of silence and more shuffling. “I’mcovered up now! Seriously this time.”

Phoebus carefullyopens his eyes, and is pleased to find she’s about as decent as shecan get with her get up. “Happy to see you didn’t pull a ‘madeyou look!’ on me.”

“Trust me, it’sonly because I want to know what it is you actually want fromme…”

The plan is rathersimple: an hour’s detention after-school Monday-Friday, wherePhoebus is supposed to teach her how to interact with people in apolite way, keep her cool, and not have another outburst or rant likethat, either in social media, in public, and especially anothertelevised event.

“I understandwhere you’re coming from,” Phoebus says on their first meeting.“Everyone talks to everyone, and the internet makes that easierthan ever. But that doesn’t mean you should just say whatever is onyour mind, and more importantly, that you don’t reply to everyonethat talks to you, those who insult you especially.

“And moreimportantly, you have a secret weapon on your side: Part One of ourBig Master Plan.”

Claudine raises hereyebrows. Images of IP traces, royal guards bursting down doors, andinternet trolls pissing their underwear come to her mind. “I’mlistening…”

“This secretweapon, the most powerful move you have against your Pharisees, oneyou can rely on to be 100% effective when used properly, is this:

“Ignore them.”

Claudine stares athim. Then, she scowls. “Are you shitting me right now? Sowhat, I just let their shit-talking stink up my air, never give themcrap back for their bull?”

“No, and beforeyou continue, let me explain: a lot of people don’t realize this,but insults only have the power to hurt you if you let them. YourPharisees are like vampires, sucking out your self-worth, confidence,and good feelings, but also like vampires, they can only hurt you ifyou invite them into your house.

“Your reaction iswhat the Pharisees want—they want to know that they hurt you, thatthey riled you up so bad you find you have no choice but to payattention to them.

“If you deny thempermission to ever enter your front door, they’ll just glare at youthrough the windows, yell at you to let them in, before they leaveand find someone else to feed on. In my experience, they’re reallynot that picky.”

“But even if Idon’t let them in through the door to bite my neck, I can stillhear them through the walls; it may all be bullshit, but it stillfucking hurts, you know…?” Claudine says with much lessbite.

Phoebus eyes soften.“I know. Trust me, I’ve been where you are. But that’s a storyfor another time, as we’re going to move to step two of our BigMaster Plan:

“Be a betterperson, with better problems.

“Find people whoseopinion you should listen to, who you need to listen to, and willwant to listen to. Think of reading troll comments on YouTube, vsreading a really good, well-reasoned blog-post as the differencebetween gorging on potato chips, vs a nice, baked potato with chivesand gravy.

“One, you canreally savour and enjoy, the other, you just shove into your mouthwithout a second thought—baked potato’s healthier for you, too.”

The two take a quicktrip to a vending machine, before resuming.

“So what’s step3 of the Big Master Plan?” Claudine asks as she settles in with apack of Oreos.

“You removeyourself from your Pharisees,” Phoebus replies as he opens up a bagof nuts. “Get out of their circles and comment threads. Keep yourdistance, and just observe. Watch how they talk, act, and/or screaminsults into the void, hoping someone will take offense and engagethem.

“Then, askyourself: ‘Why?’

“Why do they dothis? Why you specifically? Why do they spend so much of theirprecious time and limited days on this world to bother you?”

Claudine nods. “Andis step four confronting them, now that I know my enemy?”

Phoebus shakes hishead. After swallowing his mouthful of nuts, he says, “No, that’sstep five; four is to go out and compliment people, engage in realconversation, and civil, reasonable, fruitful debate. Acquaintyourself with how people really talk when they want to make aconnection with someone and exchange ideas. See what it’s like whenyou don’t reduce yourself to sound-bites, mean flits, and memes.

“Maybe even havethem face-to-face.

“And this is wherewe get to step five: return to your Pharisees. Ask them, why do theydo what they do? Why the hate? Don’t they have anything betterto do with their lives?

“This iscompletely optional, by the way, but whether or not you do it, everytime you find yourself tempted to reply to a stupid insult onStorybook, just repeat step one.”

To help with this,he teacher her all about humour, “the art of making something funout of terrible, awful things.”

He relates to herhow incredibly tense things were immediately after the Great Uniting.Before, when it was just communications through rifts in reality andthe occasional ambassador, it was all good will, excitement, andbeing on their best behaviours, “like all the different realms weredating each other.”

“The Great Unitingwas all of them getting married and moving in together, and formajority of the people, this is when the reality finally hit themthat they’d have to live with each other, every single day ofthe year, for the rest of our lives.

“Metaphoricallyspeaking, we had to share our bathrooms, see each other when we wokeup in the morning before a shower, pants, and a nice strong pot ofcoffee, and be keenly aware of all our bad habits, our flaws,and whenever we indulged in our, ahem, baser pleasures.

“It was a roughtime, even with the translators to help smooth the transition intoEnglish.

“Sometimes, it’d actually make things worse when atranslator decided to soften, change, or completely cut out the badparts of whatever a Grecian said to the woman from Corona, and theyhappen to have a bilingual friend who could tell them what theyreally meant.

“The honeymoon wasover, and lots of people were having regrets. They were feelinghomesick, and even if they had literally brought home with them,Auradon definitely wasn’t the Kansas. Things were lookinglike we were headed to a divorce, and an ugly one at that.”

“Did things everget to the shouting and breaking dishes level?”

“For some, yes.But that was inevitable and expected when you pulled off something asbig, complicated, and messy as this. The rest, however, we had todefuse before things really got ugly, with the one universallanguage all of us could understand:

“Humour.

“I’ve yet tomeet a culture that doesn’t like to laugh—and if they don’t,Beast and the others passed them over for the final list.

“Using comedy wasthe perfect tool. It defused tensions, it broke the ice, it letpeople find something they had in common so we could start buildingbridges there. And as a wise man once said, ‘If your enemy isdoubled over in laughter, he can’t club you to death.’”

Claudine smirks. “Ibeg to differ, but I get the point…”

Phoebus becomes aguide, a protector (for both external aggressors and Claudine’sworse impulses), and a third regulating force in her life, a properfather figure for her whom she frequently hangs out with every otherSunday to go out and bond, be her chaperon for when she starts datingagain (and seriously, this time), and being one of the people she canalways call when things go wrong.

She also calls him for advice, and often times, when he catches wind of her getting into trouble, offers helpful advice, like this one tacked onto the end of many lengthier pieces: “… But most importantly: don’t punch anyone in the dick, or where they would have one if they’re female.”

The humour helps her get over her natural distrust of authority, seeing as that’s what caused and enforced the Isle, and Maleficent’s guards aren’t saints themselves, or follow much of a “code of honour.” Claudine often timescalls him when she can to ask him to tell a joke. One of them isthis:

“One day, a nunliving in a convent in a forest comes across a hunter trying to bagsome deer. As she gathers herbs and berries, she watches as thehunter nocks his bow, takes aim, and misses.

“’Goddammit, Imissed!’ the hunter cries as his prey gets away.

“’Oh mygoodness, what foul language!’ the nun says to herself. ‘God,please give this man the strength, so he may never take Your name invain ever again.’

“Later, the nun isgetting some water from the river, and she sees the hunter trying tobag some deer again. Again, he nocks his bow, takes aim, and misses.

“’Goddammit, Imissed!’ he cries as his prey gets away yet again.

“’Oh mygoodness, what a horrible man!’ the nun says to herself. ‘God,please show this man why you do not take Your name in vain!’

Suddenly, the skydarkens, clouds roll in, and a bolt of lightning comes shooting downfrom above, striking the ground just beside the hunter!

Then, they hear adeep, rumbling voice echoing all throughout the forest:

“Me-dammit, Imissed!’”

* The Rotten Four’s“forgiveness” at the end of the first movie was not nearly asclean and quick as was portrayed in canon.

[artificialqueens]

A Dream you're having (Acid Betty/Thorgy Thor) - Saiph

AN: This was originally posted on AO3, but I’d like to give it a chance here in AQ, as my first shared story, and if you like what you’re reading, let me know, that will count as an inspo booster for a new job.

I must warn you, this turned to be more angsty than I thought when I started its writing, we’ll deal with some serious names counting as casualties, eitherway, we’ll have some hot moments within Thorgles and Elizabeth, so take this to consideration.

And now, have a happy reading.

A DREAM YOU’RE HAVING

“How do you know this isn’t a dream you’re having, and if this is a dream, does that make it any less real?” -RuPaul Charles-

He woke up with the first traces of sunlight that beated his eyelids, his whole body ached like hell, just as he has been carrying extremely heavy weight upon his shoulders.  He exhaled while moving his torso, lying on his belly as he was, it took a monstrous effort to turn to his back, even worse when he took the left arm to cover his eyes from the extremely brilliant light from the outside.

- What the fuck?- he mumbled, feeling alienated by the smell of fabric softener on the sheets resting on his oversensitive skin, it didn’t seem like the one he used on his own bed clothes, actually he didn’t remember how the hell he got to bed, as far as he remembered being still in drag when he lost the count of how many drinks he had, reminding himself to never, ever drink black pearls again.  Taking a deep breath, Jamin finally managed to sit on the bed, allowing his eyes to adjust to the morning light.

A funny clock with music keys working as the actual numbers greeted him, letting know that those lights weren’t the first lights of the morning, it was actually noon and he was still confused and trying to figure out where he was, everything was messy around him, instrument cases on the shadiest corner, clothes, shoes, wigs and pumps here and there, a comforter full of makeup and a huge mirror holding colorful pictures.  

Jamin got off the bed, feeling dizzy and realizing he was butt naked, his drag neatly folded over the only chair on the messy bedroom of what he realized was Shane’s place in Brooklyn. He catches a glimpse of his face on the mirror: smeared yellow and dark orange makeup, his lids still sticky with mascara and eyeliner, the fading shade of his overdrawn lips of the night before, and a non subtle path of hickies going down through his chest, belly and abs.

Ok, he had better mornings, but still he couldn’t help the smile spreading on his face; engaging with Thorgy after a gig would always be a blast, especially if you wake up gloriously naked on her bed and still wearing what’s left of your makeup of the night before.  Still smiling to himself on the mirror, he started cleansing his face.

- And that’s what I call a well-rest-arrogant-self-satisfied-and-totally-spent-bitch face-, Shane said, lying on the frame of the door with his arms crossed, the dreadlocks going everywhere down his shoulders, back and chest, making Jamin’s smile grow wider, just to turn and face him - guess I’m a self satisfied bitch right now, the Hansel and Gretel-ish path to my dick says that we had a great time -, Shane couldn’t help to smile at Jamin, with the same self satisfied expression.

-Well, if you are into fucking the dead, it was a great night- Shane answered, with that little spark of the teaser. Not noticing at all, they took a couple of steps to each other, and there was it, that magnetic force that pulled Thorgy to Betty’s bed the first time. working its magic again, this time, dragging Jamin to Shane’s bed… for the we-lost-our-count-a-long-while-ago time. A tangle of limbs going here and there, soft whispers and parted lips.

==

Jamin is awake again, feeling disoriented and with a headache threatening to make him blind, he’s not sure where he is, the only thing he knows, is everything hurts… from the blinking of his eyes, to the attempts of deep breathing; but most of all, there’s something that hurts most than his body, a deep pain on his chest making him sure that anything is alright and will never be again.  He had never been a fatalist, but everything in that moment felt as wrong as a saint shooting two guns at the same time to the crowd.

His mouth was dry and his throat felt like he haven’t used it for ages, an attempt of sound formed on the back, making him sound like a wounded beast, exhaling the last of its life, a muffled voice coming from beside him, something like “he’s awake… he’s awake!”, immediately followed by what it seemed an acute beep that hurt his ears badly, making his headache even more intense.  Soon the place was full of voices and silhouettes that Jamin couldn’t see at all, he already tried to produce a word, but his voice wasn’t helping at all.  

-Where am I?- he finally produced, when a soothing wave of painkillers flood through his veins, making him able to focus on see what was in front of him, the worried face of Christopher was there, who produced a little smile when he heard him talk.  -It’s a long story pal… thank god you’re back- he said to Jamin, quickly looking to the other side in a futile attempt to hide the tears that were falling down his eyes.  

After a couple of minutes, what seemed to him, like an army of nurses and doctors left them alone, and Bob took again the place beside Jamin’s bed.  -Jesus Betty, you know how to keep a bitch awake- he joked, with a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes.  Jamin sighed, being blasted by the sting of pain on his ribcage, -where am I, Chris?- he asked again, making Bob exhale so slow that if it weren’t for the heavy weight Jamin felt over his arms, could’ve slapped him to bring him back.

-We are at Brooklyn hospital, J- was the cryptic answer from Christopher, that made Jamin get the chill, he didn’t remember why he could end at Brooklyn Hospital, but something in Chris’ face, told him that something was real wrong and it had something to do with the big hole he felt all over his chest.

===

Shane was pacing around like a defenseless caged animal, his face tense as the strings of his violin, it has been more than three hours since Jamin’s last call, he were supposed to reach him at the club, they had a gig together, and as far as he found himself busy doing his face and bringing Thorgy back to life, he didn’t noticed how much time passed since the tone of her cell announced that call, that made him smile.

He was about giving the thousand U turn on the dressroom when the door got opened, Jamin’s tired face finally showing through it, Thorgy ran straight to him, rushing some kisses over his face and lips -I was so worried, it’s been three hours since we spoke and…-  Jamin took Shane’s hands on his -and I’m here… I’m sorry I’m so late, my luggage took ages at the conveyor belt and things got nasty when I came from the airport… but I’m here babe, I’m here-. Thorgy gave one more peck to Jamin’s lips and look straight to his blue eyes, -Let’s get you ready, do your face, I’ll get your clothes hun- .

Shane’s head was running wild, but he managed to be outcoming and cheerful as he has always been on the stage, few hours later, they were heading to Kim’s place in Chicago, the car windows were darkened, so they could easily go through the streets without being noticed.  They hadn’t call a cab for some years now, it wasn’t safe anymore, but at the end of the night, they always had each other to soothe the awfulness of the world around them.

Kim greeted them with a meaningful smile as soon as he opened the door, and that was everything to them, there were still few safe places, there were so little chances to get together and feel that everything didn’t change.  That night, when they crashed on the guest room of Kim’s house, Shane kept a strong grip on Jamin’s t-shirt while he slid in a less than peaceful sleep and Jamin caressed his hair until he felt calmed enough to fall asleep too.

They have been together for some years and Jamin was worried, most of all, that the violent times they were living could reach them; by that time, he was sure enough that waking up to an empty spot, where Shane’s smiling face should be, was the last thing that could happen and he was not taking that risk, he should take Shane and himself away from US as soon as he could.

===

Jamin woke up again, to see Christopher’s face again, looking even more tired and showing dark circles under the eyes -what time is it now?- he asked, still with raspy voice -it’s noon, you’ve been sleeping for a while, lazy bitch- both of them smiled to each other, too exhausted to actually laugh.  -So… what’s the story, Bob? why am I at the Brooklyn hospital with your ugly face beside my bed?- the smile on Chris’ face faded again, He stood as tall as he was, making Jamin feel small and defenseless, the hole in his chest more evident with every second passing.

-Well… guess you were fucked up enough to not remember but…- Bob covered his face with his hands, to finally look at Jamin again -Shane and you were at this drink and draw thing you were invited to, downtown New York, many of our friends were there too- he said, starting to pace on the little hospital room -one of those radical groups found out and there was a shooting- Bob’s voice cracked, his eyes full with tears -we… we’ve lost many of them, Michael, Greg, Jaremy, Dan, his husband… they all are gone-.

Jamin started feeling numb, Michael and Greg were close friends to him, they have always supported his approach of drag, and were more than loud on encouraging him to keep faithful to his style and aesthetics, knowing those great human beings lost, felt like someone kicked his nuts so hard that he couldn’t feel anything else, but most of all, he caught Chris’ avoidance to mention the one he cared the most - how long I’ve been here? where’s Shane?- he asked, feeling the bile rising up his throat.

-It’s been a week, the doctors were not so optimistic on you coming back with us, J- Christopher said, in a darkened voice -about Shane… I need you to keep calm, you shouldn’t do anything stupid- he continued, noticing how his voice became lower-.  Jamin looked straight at him, -where’s Shane?- he asked, his voice raised in a high pitch -is he…?- he couldn’t even think on a world where Shane wasn’t spreading his light and optimism. A world where Shane will not be apprehensively gripping his t-shirt to sleep, or to kiss him good morning.

Bob took a deep breathe, unconsciously taking his fingers to press the bridge of his nose -he’s here too… - he said, after long seconds, trying to find his own words and not to hurt even more his dear friend -he’s got a couple of shots… certainly less than you got, but he lost lots of blood, and he barely made it through the hospital… he hasn’t come back yet, but with each day the hopes are less… and less- Christopher finished that last sentence sobbing,  He wished to have better news to Jamin, he wished to tell him Shane was ok, that he was going to make it, but not even him could dare to make such a stupid promise.

Jamin felt like he was going down an everlasting spiral, his head spinning madly and the hole in his chest even heavier than before, he wanted… no, he needed to see him, he needed to be with him, to hold his hand, to talk to him even if it was for a last time.  He tried to move, but his body didn’t respond, all those painkillers and what he realized at that moment that was a cass holding the whole of his left leg and the surgical pins on his right arm didn’t allow him to move at all.  Silent tears flood from his eyes, making him feel useless and alone.

Christopher held his hand while the both of them cried and finally, Jamin fell asleep again, so conscious of the illness of his body and how broken his heart was, the only thing he wanted, was to see him, his Shane, even if it was to say goodbye.

==

Shane has never been an early bird, but that morning he felt full of energy… more than usual, he carefully left the bed, went for a walk and stopped at the grocery to get some fresh fruits, went back home, sang a couple of songs and cooked a perfectly done tower of pancakes, brewed some fresh coffee and went as silent as he could back to the bedroom, where Jamin was still asleep, gloriously calm and all tangled with the sheets of the bed.

That sight took Shane’s breath away, it wasn’t -by far-, the first time he saw the new morning feeling Jamin by his side, but this morning was very special… ‘cause that was the first morning he was able to see his brand new husband, sleeping in the place they will share for, what he expected, was going to be a long, long, long, long time.

By that time, everyone knew they were officially together, but they decided to keep it just for the two of them becoming a married couple. They exchanged a couple of silver rings in front a peace judge, with the promise of a forever that started with them spending their first hours together walking through a winter night in DC.

Back to Brooklyn, they moved together to Jamin’s place, thing that was natural after the time they have been a couple, and even when the department was a mess, Shane felt finally at home when he saw the resting face of Jamin, who started moving in the bed, looking for him on the empty spot of the bed, and finally opened his eyes, barely seeing the blurry shape of Shane on the door.

-Morning sleepy head- Shane greeted him with a full mouthed smile while taking some steps to the bed, and once on his reach, Jamin managed to pull him back to his side -why are you up this early? you know, I didn’t got married to find an empty bed when I wake up- was the sleepy response he gave to him, who was already kissing his forehead and nose. -It’s not my fault that you’re a lazy bitch, it’s close to noon and you’re still sleeping- Shane said him playfully just to tickle his ribs.

==

A sting of pain on his ribcage made him open the eyes, by that time he was already sick of being in bed, but his arm and leg will not let him go far from that place, and feeling that new burning pain wasn’t helping him at all, being alone on that room took him by surprise, by that time, Davis, Derrick, Sang and even Zavion had taken turns with Christopher to take care of them both.  The everlasting optimism of Derrick helped Jamin to make a progress on getting sit most of the day, and the kindness of Sang kept his morale up high, but all of them refused to talk about Shane.

Jamin was getting impatient with that silent policy, and while he managed to beep calling a nurse, he was expecting for Zavion to go an bring him some news… whatever it was, he wanted to know about the outer world and most of all, he wanted to know something, anything that he could tell him about Shane.  Zavion crossed the door still smiling reassuringly to Jamin, but his face grew stressed as soon as he saw him -Good Lord, Betty you’re bleedin’, lemme get a nurse for ya-, the dark skinned man ran to the hallway and was back in a second and behind the glass, while three nurses managed to strip him from the hospital robe and started working, followed few seconds later by a doctor who decided Jamin was going back to surgery.

Zavion walked besides Jamin, talking to him and telling everything was going to be alright, then the elevator door closed leaving Jamin alone with the personal, feeling in pain and even more strengthless, the last thing he saw, the lights of the operating room fading through the plastic of the anesthetist mask.

—

Derrick and Mackenzie were both on each side of Shane’s bed, laying on that place, pale and thin, he didn’t resemble the unstoppable energy that always surrounded Thorgy wherever she went.  Mac was fixing Shane’s nails, while Derrick spoke to him about how things outside seemed to get better, also about Sutan and Karl pretended romance and how people was rooting for it in an attempt to keep up their hopes, when his telephone vibrated, making him leave the ICU room, just a second later, Derrick went back with a worried expression and told Mac he was joining Zavion in the surgery floor… something was wrong with Jamin.

Mac sighed loudly, and kept working on Shane’s nails, thinking of something else to say, something to get him distracted from the idea of Jamin going again to surgery, of how much will it hurt losing two of their closest friends, especially after they’ve lost Nick on the same shooting.  Mac gave one longing sight to the door where Derrick walked away and went back to Shane.

-So… Zavion and Sang had a blast of a gig last night, at least, they had a very good crowd watching them and… -  Mac was unable to continue, Shane’s hand was holding his, still with closed eyes, and the slow breathing, becoming heavy.  Mac’s eyes were wide open, and started calling for help.  Mac stood outside of the window of the room, watching the doctor and nurses work their magic, while Shane’s confused eyes were looking with a note of desperation to find out what was happening.

In the surgery floor, Derrick and Zavion were pacing with a pregnant silence heavily surrounding them, until a very tired looking doctor went to them. -How’s he?- was the barely audible words that left Derrick’s mouth, -it was a tough surgery, Mr. Ruhren lost a lot of blood again, we repaired his lung but we will have to wait until he wakes up to know if there’s any collateral damage, he’s weak and will be sent to ICU to get him under close surveillance- after those words, the doctor left and Derrick finally collapsed, barely caught by Zavion, who put him on a chair -we need to stay strong D, there’s nothing left for us to do- the southern man told to his friend, still holding him by the arms -we cannot let them see us fall apart- he continued, as Derrick started sobbing loudly.

-I can’t… no more, it’s like having Nick dying again, what if one of them doesn’t make it? how can we tell them the other half of his life is lost forever?- Derrick asked Zavion, on the verge of hysteria, they hugged in silence, lacking of response, and losing what was left of their hope when Derrick’s phone buzzed making both of them jump…

“Thorgy’s back I need at least one of you here please”, Mac’s message caught them off of guard, but almost immediately, both of them ran to the elevator to join Mac on ICU, where they found Mac holding Shane’s hand, and whispering something very fast.

==

Jamin plugged the lights and the Christmas tree came to life, showing sparkling colors here and there, caressing his face with the neon colors they both liked so much, it was their first Christmas married and it had to be perfect, even when he was a Jew, he wanted everything to look as bright as Shane’s pre-christmas good mood.

-Oh my God! oh my God!- was the first that came to Jamin’s ears after the door of their home was open -this is so beautiful babe, thank you- Shane told him, going to hug him from behind, getting him close to his chest -well, everything for my Thorgles-, Jamin answered, caressing the hands of his husband on his belly, they stood there, watching the lights shine for a moment.

-You know, this is incomplete, I always imagined sharing this with some loving husband while we danced slowly to the view of Brooklyn at night- Jamin said, teasing Shane, who immediately laughed and allowed Jamin to be free of his embrace -well husband, you actually have a loving husband and a Brooklyn night outside the window, so allow me to give you the whole fantasy- Shane kissed Jamin’s jawline and then went to the stereo, turning it on and picking an old CD from the rack they recently installed to put his collection in.  Some seconds later, Shane offered his hand in the most elaborated floriture to take Jamin’s and pulling him to slow dance to an Elvis Presley song.

They kissed in front of the window, caressed by the christmas tree lights and, still dancing, even after the music ended, even when the lights of their neighborhood started to be turned off.  -Guess I could have this forever- Shane said, still lost in the warmth of his husband’s body, -now I can tell this is like the pre-christmas I’ve ever wanted- Jamin replied, caressing Shane’s dreadlocks; Shane kissed Jamin’s lips once more and then looked into his eyes -I think… I think I’m ready- Jamin seemed a bit confused and Shane smiled to him -we should tell them, our friends that we are officially married-.

Jamin smiled to him -I don’t know… I’m not ready to share you with the world, you know, I like you being just my husband… being just mine-, Shane pulled him closer, and rested his chin on the other man’s shoulder -silly, I will always be your husband… I’ll will always be just yours- , with this words he closed his eyes, to let Jamin’s body fill him -so I can handle that, I guess… but only if you promise to keep being just my Shane- and for all response, Shane started kissing his collarbone.

==

Shane’s eyes flood with tears, as Mac’s whispers kept going, a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes greeted Derrick and Zavion as he saw them coming, Derrick went in without thinking and Mac kissed Shane’s cheek goodbye.  Derrick took Mac’s place and Shane spoke with raspy voice -how’s my babe? Mac told me… how is he?-, Derrick took a deep breath and spoke -he’s not so well, his lung bled again and the doctor repaired it, but they don’t know what will happen- was the honest answer he gave to his friend, who closed his eyes and sighed.

-We… we wanted to talk to you all, but seems like fucking fate is refusing to let us do what we decided to do- Shane said to Derrick, who stared at him puzzled -what are you talking about?- he asked, falling for the curiosity.  -The one who’s lung has been repaired is not just my partner, best friend and lover… he’s also and most importantly, my husband-  Shane said, half laughing, half crying again -could you please ask them to put my husband close to me, as far as I can’t take care of him, I want to be by his side if one… or both of us are close to die?- Shane asked, his voice cracking.

Derrick went to the medical central to check if getting them together could be an option, as far as their condition was so delicate, and the most he could get, was getting Jamin to the across the hallway, to get both of them as close as was medically possible. Even when Shane’s condition was improving, they were not so optimistic on leaving or even moving him to a regular room, his organs were still regenerating and getting him in too much movement would imply a higher risk.

On the other side, a week later, Jamin was still asleep, breathing steadier, but asleep and Shane was put on a recovery room a couple of days back, falling to his own anxiety, as far as he didn’t allow none of his friends to keep the truth away from him.  When Sang went to see him, Shane just held his hand, waiting for any news, whatever it came, but he just sighed -why do you keep doing this Thorg? things are exactly like yesterday and the last twelve hours, you should stop torturing yourself-, Sang told him, being as honest and caring as he had always been with his unstoppable friend.

Shane silently cried again, he knew Sang was right, and as much as he wished to see Jamin’s blue eyes staring at him, asking every now and then how was everything going in the ICU room, was not going to improve anything -it… it’s just I miss him so much, I’d rather sit besides his bed than staying here, being useless- Shane answered in a whisper, clearly frustrated and in pain.  -You almost bled to death from a hole in your stomach and your right kidney is still failing, baby, you’re not so much better than him, you need to take care of yourself before trying to take care of him… you’re actually helping him by getting better- the Korean man said matter of factly, with the same ease as if he were talking to a stubborn toddler, and Shane just sighed as an answer, letting the silence rise up around them.

===

Jamin had been travelling in South America, and as much as he loved performing, he missed being at home with Shane, who had travelled to Canada few days before Jamin had to go to Brazil, they had very busy schedules, and the Christmas Tree was silently waiting for them at the same place where it lit them up to dance for that magical night.

It was December the 15th, and he had been invited to a drink and draw event, he was meant to be there by himself, but he couldn’t stand to be apart of Shane for another day, so when he picked up his luggage from the conveyor belt, he made his best to ignore the unease spreading on his belly.  As soon as he got home, Jamin joined an unconscious Shane that fell asleep on the couch zapping the TV, on the screen some random cooking show making a comfortable background noise -babe… come on honey wake up, I’m home-  Jamin whispered on Shane’s ear and giving a kiss on his jawline, making him jump a little and half open his eyes to hum some unintelligible response.

-Come on sleeping beauty, time to kiss your prince- Jamin said, and Shane slid his arms around his waist -no… if I’m sleeping, the prince has to come and kiss my…- not allowing him to finish the sentence, Jamin kissed him hungrily, almost with desperation and getting a loud whine from Shane when he broke the kiss -and now you’ve got my attention, are you ok Elizabeth?-  Jamin made himself comfortable on Shane’s arms and Shane stared straight to his blue eyes -nothing… I guess, I have this drink and draw invite, and I’m not feeling like going- Shane pouted his lips -but you actually changed bookings to be here for that, you should go- he said, adjusting his body on Jamin’s embrace -I know, but I missed you much more than I wanted to go to that event- a soft smile painted Shane’s lips, and an echoing one on Jamin’s face  -ya’know wha? we both are going, but not before I get you-, Shane said, sliding his hand down Jamin’s pants, making him moan at the contact.

===

Christopher went down the emergency stairs taking two steps at a time, even when it took less than 5 minutes, he felt like it took hours and when he finally reached Shane’s room, bent at the waist and gasping to catch his breath, he looked at both the man, that were looking at him, with puzzled looks.  -Guys, Betty’s back! babbling incoherences about some nordic god- the tall men told them, unable to keep the grin out of his face.

Sang jumped off the chair and clapped his hands, making Shane quiver on the bed. -How is he?- Shane asked with cracking voice, -the doctor’s are still checking up on him, but everything seems to be fine, his lung is working better than they expected, and that bitch was just taking a beauty sleep,if everything’s alright with him, they’ll take the pins off in a week, looks like the both of you made it through the worst part Thorg-.  It felt weird to be called that way, all of them had been calling his birthname since he woke up, and thinking about  Thorgy, Betty and their colorful existence seemed like a long lost dream.

-I want to see him- Shane said, matter of factly -I need to see that bitch and tell him how much I’ve missed him-, Sang held his wrist intending to keep the man on the bed -you’re not going anywhere without a doctor supervising it, remember getting better helps him to get better-.  Shane stared at Sang in clear surrender, making Christopher’s mouth fall open -don’t be that surprised… I can be reasonable sometimes- Shane said, getting a cautious glare from Christopher. -I know you better than that Shane Thor Galligan-Ruhren, so I guess I should go to get some medical approval to get your ass to your man- Shane giggled as a response and then asked Sang to give him a mirror to fix his dreadlocks.

A couple of hours and a long last discussion across the hallway after, Sang was pushing Shane on a wheelchair, and he was twisting his hands in a weird way, keeping his shoulders as straight as he had a metal line guiding his back, the somber expression in his eyes fading slowly as they reached to Jamin’s room, whose voice can be heard from the hallway. -c’mon Chi Chi, you can convince the doctor to take me there… do it for this old bitch- Zavion’s laughter filled the place for a second -not the first time you request that bro, and the answe is the same NO, you can’t get out of here, you almost died we are not taking those risks-, Jamin grunt as an answer and then started laughing to finish in a light coughing… Shane’s heart skipped a beat when he heard him laugh… he was alive.

===

Shane jumped in Jamin’s arms, making his husband slowly awake -Thorg? what happened baby?-, a bit disoriented, Shane looked for Jamin’s lips with his own, there was something bitter and desperate on that kiss, something that made feel Jamin like Shane was trying to make sure the moment was real, that they were together on that old couch that Shane refused to give away when they moved to their apartment.  Jamin caressed his back  trying to soothe him.

Once he made sure he was on their living room, still naked and with the Christmas tree still shining, Shane sighed in relief and keeping a firm hold on Jamin’s biceps, still feeling too overwhelmed to speak, but doing it anyways -what time is it?- he asked, and Jamin glanced to the music keys clock on the wall -it’s late for the drink and draw, but a perfect time to cuddle with my husband-, Shane cuddled against Jamin’s chest, while Jamin reached with his free hand for the remote, -well, I guess we both missed each other, a lot more than we thought, as far as I’m unable to get away from you-, Jamin laughed, drawing patterns on Shane’s back distractedly.

-Why did you jump like that? were you having bad dreams?- Jamin teased Shane, who got pale, almost greenish, and Jamin looked at him feeling his stiffness, -what happened baby?- he asked, starting to soothe him again by caressing his back -you know you can tell me anything-.  Shane buried his nose on the hem of his neck and took some minutes to make his head clear -I… had this dream, where we both were about to die, away from each other and nothing knowing that we are married, and no one allowing us to say a proper goodbye and…- Jamin reached for Shane’s chin and kissed him tenderly.

-We are ok, babe… we are more than ok, we are healthy, and together, and butt naked and… at least in my case, really horny- Shane giggled at that statement, he was getting horny too -we should offer a Christmas Eve Dinner and share the news with your people- said Jamin, before kissing Shane again, who was by then pumping his shaft with a hand and making him moan.

The remote that Jamin had been holding fell to the floor, and they got lost on each other, while in the night news they were broadcasting live from the drink and draw event that had been attacked by a group of extremists, the police still assessing the damages and the injured and dead people.